Nothing But Blue (6 page)

There's free filtered water on the counter with the milks and sugars. I pour myself a cup. I drink it in one gulp, drink a second, and take a third, along with a handful of sugar packets, and go sit in one of the armchairs in the back. The chair wraps around me.

I sit back and watch, quiet and invisible as a mouse. A pregnant mother and her toddler boy are to my right. The boy smears his face with cream cheese and laughs. The mother tries to wipe it off, and he just laughs harder, then hiccups. This sends him into a giggle fit, and he starts snorting. The mother starts laughing, too, and holds her big belly. They are so happy they make me smile.

The toddler suddenly jumps up and runs past me. His mother follows in hot pursuit and catches him before he gets out the door. She gathers their things and they go out together.

I notice that they left almost an entire half of the bagel on the table. I glide over to their table and pretend it's my seat. I make sure no one sees me and bite into the leftover bagel. Delicious.

As I'm finishing, two soccer moms with fancy coffees and biscotti sit at the table next to me. They start a very loud conversation.

Mom 1: You're so thin these days. How do you do it?

Mom 2: I joined the Loser Club and lost thirteen pounds. It might be time to buy a new bathing suit, even though swimming season is over.

Mom 1: I can't even try on suits. Not until I reach my goal. I lose and gain like a yo-yo. Do they make you exercise a lot?

Mom 2: Mainly walking. They say walking twenty minutes a day is enough to keep the average person healthy.

Mom 1: I probably get that just from going up and down the stairs checking on that idiot contractor.

Mom 2: How's the remodeling going?

Mom 1: It's a headache. Dan wants us to switch over to natural gas instead of oil.

Mom 2: Didn't you hear about that house?

Mom 1: What house?

Mom 2: There was a house in some new development that blew up. Everybody died.

These words catch me off-guard. The bagel and cream cheese sting the back of my throat. I stand up too fast and get a head rush and have to sit back down.
Everybody died.

The women stop talking and notice me. “Are you all right, dear?” one of them asks.

I need air. I have to get out. I stand again, slowly this time. The two women are staring at me. I nod blankly, and they seem to accept that and go back to their conversation like nothing happened. “Really, you should try the Loser Club. It could change your life.”

I manage to get out before I double over from the pain in my stomach.
All dead, all dead
is loud and strong. Panicked voices are screaming inside my head. Everything is hazy. I crouch on the sidewalk and hold my hands over my ears.

Through all the noise I hear a small voice laughing. It's a real voice. The pregnant woman and her toddler are walking down the sidewalk toward me. The toddler points. “Doggie, doggie!” Shadow is right next to me. I hadn't even noticed. I put my hand on his back and breathe.

“Yes, look at the nice doggie,” the mother says.

The toddler reaches his fingers toward Shadow. Shadow wiggles over and gives them a lick.

“Nice doggie,” the mother says again. She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asks.

I muster all of my energy to stand. “I'm okay,” I whisper. I start to walk down the street, one foot in front of the other. Like nothing happened.

I know the woman is watching me and I hear the boy's sweet giggle, but I don't look back.

I ran all the way to Jake's house for our very first date. I was puffed out by the time I got to his door. I rearranged my stretchy black dress and rang the bell.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I said, catching my breath and wiping some sweat from my forehead. Great. He was going to think I was always sweaty.

But he didn't mention it. Instead he said, “You look nice.”

The way he was looking at my chest I could tell the cleavage worked, though it suddenly made me a little uncomfortable.

I smiled. “You, too.” He was wearing black jeans and a spanking white T-shirt. He smelled of after-shave.

We got into his car. It was some kind of fancy sports car, bright red and super shiny.

“I just got a new sound system,” he said. He leaned across to turn up the volume, and as he did his arm brushed against mine. Did he touch me on purpose?

“Listen to these babies.” He closed his eyes and bobbed his head to the beat.

We drove for ten minutes without saying anything. He couldn't have heard me over the music anyway, but I was grateful, since I wasn't sure what to say. I'd never been alone in a car with a boy before.

Jake's dad's gallery was in town, but we headed in the opposite direction, toward the bay. Jake drove up the big hill and then finally stopped at the park overlooking the water and the islands. He stopped the car but kept the music on.

“What about the opening?” I shouted.

Jake turned the volume down. “Let's bag it. No one will notice if we're not there.” He wrapped his hand around my arm. “We can find better things to do,” he said.

He reached into the glove compartment and took out a joint and a lighter. “You smoke?” he asked as he lit the joint and offered it to me.

“No,” I said. I knew pot wasn't as terrible as parents and teachers made out. I knew people who had tried it before, but still, I didn't want to risk losing control in the midst of my first date. Who knew what a fool I could make of myself?

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. I mean, no thanks.”

“I was sure you'd be into weed. But that's okay. I like a girl who's a bit of a straight priss. Kind of sexy. You don't mind if I have some, do you?”

I shook my head. Did he just call me a priss and say I was sexy at the same time? I wasn't sure if I should be offended or flattered. I decided to be flattered. No one had ever called me sexy.

He took a drag, coughed, took another, then put it out and placed it in the cup holder. I wanted that moment from the day before to come back—when we convened with nature together, when there was electricity.

I slowly reached my arm out and touched his cheek. He leaned over, bringing his face close to mine. “Where have you been hiding all this time?” he whispered. “I mean, I know you've lived nearby and all, but how come I never really noticed you before?”

I was going to say that he had noticed me once, even gave me flowers and asked me to marry him, but if he didn't remember that incident, I didn't exactly want to remind him.

He grabbed my shoulders and turned me so we were facing. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but I could tell we were going to kiss. His mouth swallowed me whole and I no longer felt anything else. It was a kiss full of tenderness, like he knew what he was doing. A guy like Jake had probably kissed a lot of girls. I ran my hands through his hair like I'd seen in movies, and he moved his down to my thighs. Was this real?

I'd never thought in a million years that this would happen to me, that someone could like me enough to touch me this way, that it could be someone like Jake, and that it could happen so suddenly with no warning. Why was Jake suddenly into me? Then I felt his tongue and I didn't care if it was real or why it was happening. I just let my body respond, and the electricity came back.

Just as I was thinking I could kiss like this forever, a car drove up. Its headlights beamed straight through the window, and we broke apart instantly. A door opened and a voice bellowed, “Police! Come out with your hands up!”

Jake swore and shoved the remaining joint back into the glove compartment.

What on earth would my parents do if they found out I'd been alone in a car with a boy
and
smoking pot? Even if I hadn't smoked any, they would assume I had. “Can we go to jail?” I asked.

Jake looked like he was about to laugh, then stopped himself.

A head peered in the window. “Any left for me?” It was not a cop, but a guy named Bradley. I recognized him from school. He had been one of Jake's friends who laughed at me during the swim-noodle incident. He was still in Jake's popular group. At least he had been when Jake left. Jake had changed since then. Bradley had not.

“Idiot,” Jake said. “You about scared us half to death.”

Bradley poked his head in farther. He did a double take when he saw me, probably wondering what I was doing there with Jake. He nodded and said, “Hey,” then punched Jake in the shoulder. “Dude, you're really going for it, aren't you?”

“Shut up,” Jake said. They whispered something so low I couldn't hear.

Bradley stood back. “I was just leaving anyway. Obviously three's a crowd. Adrianna is looking for you. Said she had something important to tell you.”

“What could she possibly have left to say? I told her it was over.” Jake turned to me. “Don't listen to this dumb-wad.”

“Whatever,” Bradley said. “I'm outta here.” He got back into his car, beeped twice, then drove away. Jake moved toward me again, but it didn't feel right anymore. It was all too fast.

“I should get home,” I said. The magic was over.

Morning becomes noon. Noon becomes afternoon. Afternoon becomes dusk. Then comes the night. At least at night no one can see me, but the dark brings its own share of worry and fear. I don't know what may be in the shadows.

I walk by some sort of utility company with large, round containers that glow like fallen moons. It's all sectioned off with barbed wire and
DANGER NO TRESPASSING
signs. It's hard to tell if it's still in business. The fence is rusty and the grounds around it are grown up with weeds.

I say to Shadow, “I'm tired. I have to stop.”

He keeps plodding ahead, though, and I follow in spite of my complaining body. We reach an underpass of a highway bridge. At the top of the incline over some low bushes and a hill of rubble is a flickering of light and voices. I stop, fearful of the people, but Shadow keeps going, so I take that as a good sign.

It's hard to tell for sure with their baggy clothes and ragged faces, but I think there are two men and one woman. They are huddled in a circle around a metal garbage can. The light is from a fire inside the can. Embers crackle and rise into the air, making their faces glow. The sound, the smell, the image, all make me uncomfortable. I don't like fire.

The woman turns to me. “Getting chilly already, isn't it?” She beckons me closer. “Come share the warmth. It's okay. We won't bite.”

The two men smile as if to confirm.

There are empty liquor bottles and bits of trash around, as well as some sleeping bags and mats set up along the ridge under the bridge on a small stretch of dirt. A fourth person is crouched on the ground away from the others. His hands are clasped around his knees, and he's rocking back and forth, muttering one swearword after another.

The sound of a car driving over the bridge above echoes for a minute, then all is quiet again except for the occasional crackle of the fire and the crouching man's mumbling. The others don't pay him any mind.

The woman hands me a bottle of amber-colored liquid. “Here,” she says. “Have some whiskey.”

I take a swig. It's warm and soothing going down, and then slowly it starts to burn. I cough and hand it back.

The crouching man lifts his head, suddenly noticing me. He stares intensely. He has long hair and a long beard, a fiery face, and a bulbous nose. He looks like a skinny Santa, without the jolly laugh. His eyes pierce right through me, and I get a prickly feeling. Shadow starts to growl and the man scowls and moves away.

“Don't mind Jimbo,” the woman says. “He had a rough day. He needs to sleep it off. You from around here?”

I shake my head.

“Traveling, then?”

I nod.

“Well, you got to sleep. It's late and night is no good for traveling alone. Even with a dog. There's an extra mat if you like.”

One of the men, the shorter of the two, hands me a can of beans. They've been sharing it, all using the same fork. I know it'd be crazy for me to ask if they have a clean one, so I take a forkful and shove it into my mouth. The beans are dry and bland, so when the whiskey bottle comes back to me I take another swig to wash them down.

They start talking about Jimbo. “Got his ass kicked by some rich kids having their way,” the guy who gave me the beans says.

Then the second guy: “Jimbo don't like to have his ego wounded.”

First guy: “He told me he pulled his knife and cut one of them. That got them running.”

Second guy: “Serves them right. They were picking on him for no reason, other than he's old and homeless.”

“Still, violence isn't the way.” This from the woman.

“What is the way, then? Get beat to death?” the first guy says.

I tune them out. My head is spinning, maybe from the drink or maybe from exhaustion. “Can I lie down?” I ask, even though they'd already offered.

The woman points to one of the mats. She takes off her trench coat and hands it to me. “Use this for a blanket.”

It's dirty and smelly, but I don't refuse.

I look around for the creepy guy, the one they call Jimbo, but he's not there anymore. I walk a few steps to the ridge and lie down on one of the mats. I pull the coat over me. Shadow snuggles with me, and I hold on to him for protection.

 

The next thing I know Shadow is sitting up and growling low. It's still dark but a trace of dawn is in the air. The fire has gone out. At first I don't see anything, then my eyes focus on a man standing above me. He looks ghostly. The prickly feeling comes back, this time like extra-sharp pins in my neck. It's Jimbo.

“What . . .” I stumble as I stand, clutching my backpack close. “What do you want?”