Taken by Storm (17 page)
Authors: Angela Morrison
Tags: #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Christian, #Friendship, #Juvenile Fiction, #Sports & Recreation, #General, #Religious, #Water Sports, #Death & Dying
He doesn’t share your standards—
He’s cool with it.
Watch it, Miss Aleesa.
mom’s eyes drill right through me.
Guys that age run hot all the time.
mom’s eyes drill right through me.
Guys that age run hot all the time.
I can’t look at her and admit neither of us
is cool. I don’t ask her advice because
I know too much of the answer
and don’t want to hear it.
We’ve got bigger things to worry about:
grief, death, fear, pain.
a monster that tried to steal him
and haunts him still.
Cold, deep water
is cool. I don’t ask her advice because
I know too much of the answer
and don’t want to hear it.
We’ve got bigger things to worry about:
grief, death, fear, pain.
a monster that tried to steal him
and haunts him still.
Cold, deep water
that calls his name.
We’re dealing here—
you should just shut up and trust me.
I’m keeping the rules—
the big ones.
I don’t need to repent—
that much.
the spirit is not gone—
We’re dealing here—
you should just shut up and trust me.
I’m keeping the rules—
the big ones.
I don’t need to repent—
that much.
the spirit is not gone—
completely.
I still have glimmers,
not the blazing clarity of before,
when it was the only voice in my heart,
but if I focus, if I try, if I need Him—
that still, small voice will whisper
again.
It has to.
not the blazing clarity of before,
when it was the only voice in my heart,
but if I focus, if I try, if I need Him—
that still, small voice will whisper
again.
It has to.
I inspect the broken threads
in the quilt grandma made me
when I turned twelve, fiddle
with a loose one, trying to tie
it off so the rip doesn’t get worse
until,
in the quilt grandma made me
when I turned twelve, fiddle
with a loose one, trying to tie
it off so the rip doesn’t get worse
until,
He needs me,
trembles from my lips,
a pleading prayer, and now
my mother’s forehead lines
deepen.
a pleading prayer, and now
my mother’s forehead lines
deepen.
she shakes her head, sighs.
Amazing, isn’t it?
the corners of her mouth ease upward.
she recalls my dad’s green suit, brown tie,
his Idaho farm boy fresh fascination.
Intoxicating.
she winks.
Still is.
Amazing, isn’t it?
the corners of her mouth ease upward.
she recalls my dad’s green suit, brown tie,
his Idaho farm boy fresh fascination.
Intoxicating.
she winks.
Still is.
I pretend to gag, but in my heart I agree.
Intoxicating, captivating, exhilarating,
mesmerizing, enticing, enthralling,
alluring, absorbing—so utterly amazing.
How could I ever go back to living without
him?
Intoxicating, captivating, exhilarating,
mesmerizing, enticing, enthralling,
alluring, absorbing—so utterly amazing.
How could I ever go back to living without
him?
mom lets go her knee, leans forward, ties
the broken threads with practiced ease.
Do you love him?
she’s concerned, scared
as I am.
the broken threads with practiced ease.
Do you love him?
she’s concerned, scared
as I am.
Don’t be sappy, we don’t think happily ever after,
get a grip
—
the protests rise too quickly to my lips,
and I’m lying to myself now,
denying my dreams of him and me in white
standing in the spokane temple,
photo hanging over my bed.
get a grip
—
the protests rise too quickly to my lips,
and I’m lying to myself now,
denying my dreams of him and me in white
standing in the spokane temple,
photo hanging over my bed.
Even though I know god is, at best,
his enemy, at worst,
my myth.
his enemy, at worst,
my myth.
mom stands up, and I pray she’s leaving
convinced, calmed, pacified—
but the worry lines are back:
convinced, calmed, pacified—
but the worry lines are back:
I was just nineteen when I met your dad—
Try not to get too attached.
Try not to get too attached.
I laugh and nod, let her think she’s
handled this one. she leaves,
but now my eyes fill at the barest
thought of unattached, any hint
that he no longer needs me,
that he doesn’t love me as much
as I sappy, happy ever after, please
hold me longer, kiss me again,
let me fill the hollows in your soul
love him.
handled this one. she leaves,
but now my eyes fill at the barest
thought of unattached, any hint
that he no longer needs me,
that he doesn’t love me as much
as I sappy, happy ever after, please
hold me longer, kiss me again,
let me fill the hollows in your soul
love him.
Do I have to choose? Why can’t
I have two suns in my sky?
I have two suns in my sky?
chapter 23
SEASHELLS
LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 11/05 3:17 A.M.
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
Leesie signed off, but i don’t want to close the screen. i need to hang on to her until my heart rate slows. i inhale with my gut, hold it a beat, exhale. Inhale again. Study Leesie’s words.
She wrote
love
. i guess i started it, but we’re not talking about the same thing. She usually says nice, safe
care
. Love? She doesn’t even know what love is. What real love can be.
love
. i guess i started it, but we’re not talking about the same thing. She usually says nice, safe
care
. Love? She doesn’t even know what love is. What real love can be.
i blow out my air, force myself to fill my lungs again. Fill up my gut, chest—tilt my head back and pack my throat and nasal passages. O
2
flows into my brain, but everything is still murky. Especially when i think about Leesie.
2
flows into my brain, but everything is still murky. Especially when i think about Leesie.
Maybe in some innocent, pure, angelic way, Leesie loves me. Can i find that kind of love? Or do i just hang on and hope she lets me show her the truth someday?
If i could love anything these days, i’d want it to be Leesie. i can’t imagine a day without her. Not a day i want to live through. i want to be with her 24/7. Can’t breathe if i go too long without a whiff of her. Just walking behind her to class turns me on. Making out with her is like a magic elixir. And a night with her. Even just holding her like i wanted at the beginning would be better than thousands of little blue pills. But where love should be, there’s this bottomless canyon of need only she can touch. Could that be her kind of love?
It’s not the type of love i want with her. No matter what she says, what she believes, you have to give it all to get there. Intimate. Attuned. Living like you’re one person. Carolina and i got close. It could be even better with Leesie, but every time she calls recess, i have to go back to the beginning. Her rules make love impossible.
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #34, THE WHOLE TRUTH
Online application blank,
essay questions unanswered,
interviews unscheduled.
two months to the deadline,
but early acceptance is now:
I could know my future
tomorrow.
essay questions unanswered,
interviews unscheduled.
two months to the deadline,
but early acceptance is now:
I could know my future
tomorrow.
the clock ticks.
my dream slips, but
how can I push
send
with his bruised heart beating
in my hands?
my dream slips, but
how can I push
send
with his bruised heart beating
in my hands?
Please tell us what strengths you will bring to our academic community:
three hundred painful words,
each one a lie—
not to them—
to him.
Will I swim away?
Not until next august.
Isn’t that as far as
never?
three hundred painful words,
each one a lie—
not to them—
to him.
Will I swim away?
Not until next august.
Isn’t that as far as
never?
chapter 24
CERTIFIABLE
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME#8
Leesie’s dad’s pig has a bunch of new babies. Or a bunch of pigs have a new baby. Something like that. She’s psyched over piglets down at the sow barn. When i take her home, instead of making out in Gram’s car like we usually do, we leave it parked by the front steps, and she drags me down the gravel road.
Leesie slips her hand in mine. “Only two weeks to the dance.” She flashes her smile. “It’s going to be so great to go with you.”
“i don’t think i can.” We’re walking past their big barn. The pigs huddle together in a perfect circle. “That flyer you gave me says semiformal. i just have jeans.”
“Nice try.” She hangs on to my arm now, too. “In LDS-speak that means Dockers, cords, anything like that, and a dress shirt. Let’s go shopping next Saturday. You need a winter coat, too.”
“You’re getting way too bossy.”
She stops walking, steps in front of me so she can kiss me. “Please,” she whispers, “it’ll be fun.”
“Only if we can buy some slinky tops that show you off better.” i reach under her jacket and caress her back.
“Like that even exists.” We kiss until it gets too cold standing in the road. Maybe i do need a warmer coat.
Leesie pulls her leather jacket tight around her slender body. “Hey, what happened to my turtleneck?”
i put my arm around her. “i burned it.”
She scowls and leads me to the barn. It’s about half a mile from the house, a long metal building shaped like those houses you learn to draw in grade school. Low and ugly, nothing like the soaring wooden barn close to her house. It sits next to a tiny, murky pond.
Leesie sees me eyeing the pond. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Gross, Leese. i’m not a sewer rat.”
“That pond is totally clean. The ducks love it.”
The pond’s surface is barren. “What ducks?”
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