Authors: Lindsay Payton
“Oh thanks,” he said as I put the shaker of food back.
“They looked like they were really hungry,” I commented.
He smiled as he approached, still in a plain t-shirt and baggy flannel pants. My shyness came back for a second, and I looked back at the fish tank when he stood in front of me.
“Shower early?” he asked, reaching up to touch my hair. It was still wet.
“Yeah, I had to get up to do some things,” I replied. He buried his hands in it, tilting my head up. This first kiss of the day was a relief, and he still tasted minty.
“I’m glad you came by early,” he said, pulling away. “You’re lucky I’m awake, I’m usually still out.”
I took note of that, checking the time as he pulled me into the kitchen. He asked me to sit down while he looked through his fridge, offering me breakfast. I let him know I’d already eaten, but to go ahead and find something for himself.
“So you made it inside last night?” he asked, putting a glass pitcher of juice on the counter.
“Yeah, no one tried to check in on me or anything,” I replied.
“Nice. Sounds like sneaking out’s an option for the future,” he said, opening the cabinets above his head for a bowl. He went on about how I should create some kind of makeshift lock when his arm knocked against the pitcher. I hoped it would just teeter, but it went straight for the floor. Without even thinking, my hand shot out to stop the pitcher. It was pure habit to use my will on it, and it stopped a few inches from the floor, just hanging there.
My hand still outstretched, I glanced up at Linden to see his reaction. He was just staring at the pitcher in surprise, and then he looked at me.
“Wow um—that’s some skill you’ve got,” he said, suddenly seeming uncomfortable. He took the pitcher from the air as I tucked my hands into my lap. I had to learn how to control myself in these kinds of situations; not everything could be fixed with my will power. Rene had taught us all that though we were different from most people, there was no reason why we should live any simpler than them. I had done this countless times at work, and someday, it was going to get me in trouble.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, “it’s just habit. If something like that happens I can’t let it go.”
“It’s okay,” he said evenly, concentrating on the things on the counter in front of him. “I used to be the same way when I got the hang of things. It’s no big deal.”
Judging by the way he seemed to shut down a little, it was something of a big deal. I wasn’t exactly sure what the problem was, but I did notice the little bit of tension in the room.
I was silent while he finished, and I looked out the window over the yard and at the house in the distance. The sky was uncharacteristically clear, and the sun was spreading its dim morning rays over everything. Even through the window I could tell it was still sort of cold, and it wouldn’t get warmer until around ten or eleven.
“So—what’ve we got planned for the day?” Linden asked as he approached the table. He seemed better now, not so off-put, I thought. He was drinking juice with his cereal and he met my eyes easily.
“I don’t know, I didn’t really think of anything ahead of time,” I admitted. Instantly, I felt stupid for not coming up with some idea earlier. What did I expect to do anyway? My mind didn’t seem to be able to think ahead of getting to his house. I would have to work on that.
“Good, because I thought of something,” Linden replied.
I was surprised. “You did?”
He nodded, finishing chewing before he spoke. “Yeah. We’re going swimming.”
“Swimming?” I hoped he wasn’t talking about the swamps. As much as I loved the atmosphere, I couldn’t deny that the water was a little less than clean.
He grinned. “Don’t tell me you haven’t explored your swamps completely.”
“If you’ve found some kind of swimming hole, not enough, I guess.”
“Not exactly a hole. I just found a place where the water seems to be a little clearer.”
“Ah.” Good news for him, but I wasn’t exactly enthralled. “Well I don’t have a bathing suit, and I can’t go back to the house for—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly. “I have some stuff you can wear.”
He finished his cereal by now, and he rose to put the empty bowl and glass in the sink. Motioning me after him, I wondered how he managed to keep us warm when we actually go outside; the water would be freezing.
In his room, Linden was pushing aside clothes in his dresser. He pulled out a black shirt and handed it to me, mumbling that he had a pair of boxers I could use.
“Aha, here.” The boxers he handed me were plain red. “They’re clean, I swear.”
I smiled and thanked him, asking if there was a bathroom on this floor. He pointed down the hall while he looked for his own clothes to wear.
I changed slowly, wondering if I should leave on my bra or not. I wanted to, but logic told me it might be worse walking around with a wet bra for the rest of the day. Still, I decided I would have to bear with it and kept it on under the shirt. The shirt proved to be baggy on me, but it would do the trick. On the other hand, the boxers were a little big and I would have to worry about keeping them on when I was in the water. Once dressed, I just stood there for a few seconds, horridly nervous to go back into the hall.
Quit being so childish,
I thought sternly.
This isn’t a big deal. It’s just swimming.
Just swimming. I kept reminding myself as I stepped into the hall, my clothes in hand. Linden had gone into one of the empty rooms and returned holding two towels.
“Everything fit okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I replied, tugging at the bottom of the shirt. I felt hopelessly exposed in the outfit, but I would have to bear with it. Linden had put on nothing different but dark swimming trunks. I waited for him in the hall after he took my clothes, tossing them on his bed before asking if I was ready to go. I wasn’t, but I replied yes.
As I predicted, it was still freezing outside when we stepped onto the porch. Linden handed me a towel and I clasped it to my chest, trying to keep from shivering. He seemed fine as he walked ahead, whereas goosebumps were rising on my arms and legs.
“It’s not that far,” he commented as we walked. He didn’t seem to notice my cold through his anxiety, and I just hurried on after him. We walked through the trees and the soft ground that grew increasingly soggier the closer we got to the water. We had just passed the hammock he had tied between two trees when he stopped.
“This is it,” he said, pointing in front of him.
I wasn’t sure if he was joking. The water in front of me was just as murky as the rest; there was nothing clear about it. “Um . . . Linden.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said as he took my towel from me. “But just hang on a second.”
I stood there holding my arms as I waited, staring at the swamp water that didn’t seem to have a bottom. When Linden stood next to me, I quickly looked off in another direction. He’d taken his shirt off, which wasn’t anything provocative, but I couldn’t help it. He kicked off his shoes and stepped into the water. It went up to his sternum, and he kept his hands above the surface.
“Just wait,” he said, smirking at me. So I waited, getting a little impatient now. I watched as he lowered his hands into the water, looking down at the surface as the water suddenly began to clear. My mouth went slack as I watched the algae, mud and other floating things sweep away from his body in a wide arch, leaving behind clear, clean water. Even the bottom of the swamp could be seen.
“Look okay?” he asked.
“Uh—” I couldn’t really speak for a second. “Yeah—yeah that’s really clear.”
“Come on then, it’s safe.”
Safe, right. I hoped it was. I felt myself hesitate as I went to the edge of the water, hesitantly sitting down before testing the temperature with my hand. I snatched it out a second later.
“Linden, it’s freezing!” I looked at him with wide eyes, but he only laughed at me.
“Just give it a second,” he said, holding up one finger. He waited and finally nodded. “Okay, it’s fine.”
I wasn’t sure what he had done, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Riley it’s okay, come on.”
Saying my name assured me further, so I slipped off my shoes and slid in to find that the water was considerably warmer. It was like bath water, and I looked at him in shock.
“You—you did this, too?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling almost sheepishly. “Pretty handy, yeah?”
I agreed while he pulled me further from the edge where the water was deeper. When I stood I was submerged up to my collarbone.
“Is it warm enough for you?” Linden asked, taking my hand beneath the surface. His palm was warm, almost hot; was it because he had heated the water himself?
“This is good,” I said, smiling and laughing slightly. I was a little more at ease now, and I let my feet tread the water as my hair got wet all over again. My mood seemed to put Linden at ease, and he ducked underwater for a second, coming up a few seconds later, blinking the water out of his eyes.
“This is definitely one of the perks of living in mild seclusion,” he said. “I wouldn’t exactly be able to do this if the neighbors were any closer.”
“True,” I replied. “They might think all this clear, warm water is a little strange.”
He shrugged nonchalantly and swam closer, tugging at my loose clothing to get me nearer. I held onto my boxers with one hand since they threatened to float everywhere, and Linden’s hands kept my shirt down. His lips were wet and they glided over mine easily, though my mind was preoccupied.
“Is it hard for you to do this? Keep it warm and keep all the debris away?” I asked while he still tried to kiss me.
He groaned. “Do you always ask questions?”
“Only the important ones.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, I don’t notice anymore. I guess that means it’s easy.
“Hm. Maybe things will get that easy for me after this ceremony,” I said, almost talking to myself.
“It takes time and practice. At least it did for me. But I’m not sure how different it is for you.”
“I bet it’s the same. I’m just impatient.”
“I can tell.” He was joking, but he tried to seem serious about it. I shoved his head a little and looked beneath the surface at his tattoos. Covering both arms, they stopped just over his shoulders, leaving his chest bare.
“And these? Are you going to keep going?” I asked, touching the point where the art stopped at his shoulder.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I might, but somewhere else maybe.”
“How long did it take you to get it all done?”
“A long time,” he replied. His voice took on that vague air that I recognized when he had talked about his mother. I glanced up at him, seeing that vagueness on his face as well.
“How old are you?” I asked firmly.
“You know already,” he replied.
“No,
really,
how old?”
He seemed a little taken aback by my tone, but he kept up his barrier. “Can’t we just keep it as it is? I’m a little older than you and—”
“Five years if you keep up with your story about being 23.”
“My ‘story’? How much more truth can I tell you? I’m 23, the end.”
“Okay, 23 in what years?”
He stared at me blankly for a second. “What?”
I sighed and gestured wildly in my impatience. “23 according to who? Humans or Elementals?”
“What the hell does age have to do with anything? Weren’t we just talking about tattoos?”
Aha. He was getting angry, which I translated meant he had something he didn’t want to admit. I tried to reign back for a second. “I was just curious, that’s it. I’m not going to walk away if you say you’re really 2,000 years old. But if you’re saying you’re 23, then you’re 23.”
He gave me a long calculating look as I waited, wondering where this spark of confidence in me came from. I guess impatience brought it out, but I had to get over that. I couldn’t be quiet and nervous all the time.
“Okay. I’m 23—in ‘human’ years,” he said slowly. “But that’s all I’m saying. I can keep some things to myself, can’t I?”
“Sure, like your real age and all about your mother,” I replied.
His face darkened immediately. “I really do wonder if you’ll always keep asking me things. I’m suspicious; somehow I still think you might just be doing this for the knowledge of it.”
I was a little hurt by his accusation, but I guess it was probable. If he were always drilling me, I would probably think the same. Still, I couldn’t help feeling the blow.
“I’m sorry . . . I’m just curious. I just can’t believe what you are sometimes,” I replied, then quickly added, “But I’m trying to forget it.”
He looked very reserved now, and was the slight movement in the water around us just my imagination? Either way, I stepped closer to him and kissed him lightly, afraid he would remain still. But he kissed me in response, a firmer, more assuring kiss than I expected. My back was pressed against the edge of the ground, and I kept my arms around his neck so I wouldn’t sink.