The Year of the Beasts (5 page)

No matter where you lived, everyone in town had a boat docked somewhere on the river.

Celina’s backyard sloped gently toward a stretch of the river shaded by trees. When they were little, Tessa and Lulu believed fairies lived in all the woods around the county where they lived. Local legend told of a man who got lost in the woods, took a nap, and wandered out one hundred years later. Tessa and Lulu would take naps by the trees hoping that they would wake up older and in the future. They never did.

School had been out for a week, and the carnival been gone for two, leaving a muddy mess of papers, garbage, and sawdust in its wake.

Few would look at the field where it had stood and believe that any kind of magic occurred there. But that field had been full of kisses. And rides. And blushes. There had been hearts that caught in throats, eyes that glanced discreetly, and hands that reached for parts forbidden.

Tessa hadn’t experienced any of those things, and so when she passed the field on the way to Celina’s house on her bicycle, she only saw the garbage that was left behind. The empty filthy field matched exactly the wreckage of her feelings for Charlie. Charlie who had taken Lulu out exactly three times so far. Lulu came back from each of those dates blooming.

It was the first barbecue of the summer; the one that celebrated Independence Day. At Celina’s insistence, Tessa had reluctantly started to bring Lulu around more, and the girls, now a firm threesome, had conspired together to invite the boys to the Fourth of July celebration. There was going to be a big fireworks display set off by the firemen from a barge on the river. The whole valley would be able to watch from anywhere in the three towns. Celina’s parents had even invited the mayor to watch from their lawn.

The party started early, and while Celina’s parents made mixed drinks and had adult conversations on the patio, the girls were nervous because Charlie, Lionel, Tony, and Dylan were late.

“Do you think they’ll come?” Celina asked. “Did Charlie say they would?”

Lulu nodded. She was now the one among them who had the inside information. She showed her authority by texting Charlie and then showing his response, which he’d signed with
x
’s and
o
’s.

Celina clapped in approval.

“Lulu, go help Celina’s mom,” Tessa said.

“She already said she didn’t need any help,” Lulu said.

No matter how hard Tessa tried to shoo Lulu elsewhere and get Celina alone, Lulu remained. She was always there, never getting the hint, acting like a shiny new thing.

Eventually, the boys showed up with brushed hair, dress shirts, and bags of candy.

The adults remembered what it was like to be young, and so they watched the teens closely for the first hour, making sure that no beer was stolen and that all the boys and girls hands were in proper places at all times. But as the day dragged on, and the liquor poured more freely, the adults became more concerned with their own drama and loud laughter. By the time the sun set, they had full confidence that no girls would get knocked up and no lines would get crossed.

Tessa, Celina, Lulu, and the boys disappeared through the trees to spread blankets on the patch of grass near the dock to get a better view of the sky. As the sun sank behind the hills, making the river go from silvery to muted brown, they chattered nervously. Charlie sat next to Lulu, holding her hand and whispering quietly. It must have been something funny because Lulu laughed quietly, and no matter how far Tessa stretched she couldn’t catch what he was saying. Lionel, Tony, and Dylan flanked Celina, telling gross stories about zits and poop and other bodily things. Celina pretended to be disgusted but actually was loving every minute of it. Tessa busied herself putting the plates out. Tony broke off from the others and awkwardly tried to help her dole out the food they’d brought down from the patio. The light faded, the shadows lengthened, the sun disappeared, and when it was dark enough, the first evening stars came out.

They all listened to the sound of rushing water and shouts on the barges as the firemen prepared to start the show. They lay down on the blankets and Tessa watched as Charlie turned toward Lulu and kissed her. Celina turned to Dylan, who was the boy that she had chosen for the night, most likely because he was the closest.

“You’re cute,” Tessa heard her say, and she watched as Celina pulled him to her and began to kiss him.

Their lips smacked together so loudly that Tessa, not even a foot away, thought that it sounded like a cow chewing. Lionel cursed, having lost out on his chance with Celina. He threw a clump of dirt at the boat that bobbed on the water in front of them.

Tony screwed up his courage and dove in for Tessa’s lips. But he missed as Tessa moved away.

No,
thought Tessa as she dodged him.
This is not the kiss I want.

She had kissed Tony before and had felt his papery lips and probing tongue. But there was no spark. And she could see the sparks flying all around her. They flew around Lulu and Charlie like a swarm, and even Celina and Dylan had some. If Tessa was going to kiss, she wanted some sparks.

The leaves on the trees rustled, their long branches sleepily waving her toward them as though they were promising something different than what was being offered on the checkered blankets.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Tessa said.

“But the show is about to start,” Tony said, his voice low, as though that would somehow change her mind and tempt her to his lips.

A flare shot into the night. The air filled with a dramatic string overture, the music skipping across the valley as the first starburst hit the air.

“I’ll go in the woods,” Tessa said. “I’ll be right back.”

She left him looking satisfied that she’d come back with an empty bladder and a soul full of passion for him. He lay back on his arms, smug with that thought.

Tessa stumbled toward the trees. She tried not to look at the tangled legs and arms of the others as the colors in the sky lit them up softly. Fireworks sprayed the sky and exploded in time to the music. Tessa could relate to the display—very dramatic, and the music—all brass. The light fell from the sky toward the river. Tessa felt as though she were bursting inside in a hot and violent way. She felt like a bomb and not a pretty blast of light.

As she entered the woods, she tripped on a root and found herself on the ground with the leaves and the dirt. Her eyes stung with earth and she heard a twig crack.

She was not alone.

“Who’s there?” she asked the trees.

She wanted this night to be over. She imagined falling asleep. She wondered if she did if time would pass, like the man in the legend, and she’d wake up and run out of the woods one hundred years later. She would like that. The darkness was peppered every few seconds or so by reds, whites, and blues, and so she knew that she was still awake.

She saw a body emerge from behind a tree. Was it a deer? A bear? A bird? No. It was a boy. He slid quietly toward her, his step sure, as though he belonged in those woods and knew them well even in the dark.

“It’s me,” a voice said.

Jasper.

The dark was lightened suddenly by a series of white bursts that lit up the sky like it was high noon. She could see him perfectly. Every line of him. Every thread. Every bone.

“You have dirt on your face,” he said.

He came over to her and sat down. He took the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it up to her eyes and began wiping her cheeks clean.

“Were you spying on us?” Tessa asked.

“No,” he said. “I live next door.”

Tessa had never known where Jasper lived. She knew nothing at all about him, except that he was strange. That he wore t-shirts with images and phrases that she didn’t understand. And that all those things combined made him seem so sure of himself in a way that no one else she knew was.

“This is the best spot to watch from. And I heard voices. I wanted to see who was here,” he said. “It was all of you.”

Tessa closed her eyes but could still see the lights from behind her lids. She felt the explosions in her chest. She sympathized with the sudden blast of trumpets.

She wondered why he didn’t just join them when he saw them all sitting on the blankets. He would have been welcome to the fried chicken and to the hot dogs. He could have enjoyed the potato salad. He could have shared the last piece of chocolate cake.

“We have some blankets,” she said. “We have food and a good view.”

“I hate Lionel,” he said.

“He’s not so bad,” Tessa said.

“Lionel made me eat paste,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like Lionel,” Tessa said.

“Well, people aren’t always what they seem,” he said.

“I ate paste once, just to try it,” Tessa said.

“I didn’t want to try it,” Jasper said.

“That was a long time ago though, right?” Tessa asked.

“I guess,” Jasper said. “Everybody dared him to do it. And he did. I don’t understand why people do what other people tell them to do.”

Tessa knew that truthfully, Jasper would not have been welcomed on the blankets the way that he had welcomed her into the woods. They would make fun of his hair. Or his sweater. Or his sunken chest. They would all laugh under their breath and Jasper wouldn’t get that he was the joke.

She heard a sound. Her name. They were probably calling her. Wondering where she was. But none of them would likely leave the blankets and come fetch her from the woods.

She felt Jasper take her hand, and she did not let it go. His hand felt moist, but curiously familiar, as though it were a part of her. As though it were her very own hand. She leaned her head against the bark of the tree and the roughness of it made her open her eyes. Jasper was looking at her, and bursts of falling lights dazzled, making his hair glow like fire.

There were things deep inside her bubbling up that she could not explain. There was his hand holding hers tightly. There was sweat on the soft fuzz of his boyish mustache.

She moved toward him and put her lips on his.

These were actions that she knew once done, could not be taken back.

chapter

six