Totem (27 page)

              I look at Michelle. Her smile radiates. Her intentions are so pure and all she wants to do is help me. She is a true friend and that is all the convincing I need.

              “Ok.” I say resolutely.

              I open up my closet for the first time in the year 2005 and pull out the special dress I have been saving. It is still in the clear plastic bag I brought it home in. The dress was left over from French Connection’s summer collection. As I bought it in the fall, it is almost half off. The earth tone mixtures of emerald green and tan, although very summery, seem to also belong to the winter season. Gently I pull the dress off the hanger and hold it up to my body in the mirror. Michelle is right.

              “Your tan shoes will pretty much match the tan in the dress. It’s a perfect pairing!” Michelle who is happy with herself exclaims.

              “Yea but it’s cold outside.” I said thinking of the thin chiffon material.

              “So put a jacket on. That is the dress you are wearing.”

              “All I have that is semi dressy is the black blazer and it doesn’t really match.” I reply.

              “I think it’ll be fine. The blazer is high wasted which will complement the waist on you dress. It’s perfect!”

              I shrug my shoulders and begin to dress. I zip up the back, grab the tan shoes out of my closet and walk to my chair at my desk. My heart begins to race again as I look at the clock. The time is 5:50. There is no way I will make it on time.

              High heel pumps on, I walk to my closet, grab my jacket and throw it on. I give myself one more look in the mirror.

              “I kind of wish my hair was up.” I say out loud.

              “There is no time. Besides, you look gorgeous! Your legs look awesome in that dress with those shoes and the jacket actually works.”

              I look at myself one last time. Michelle is right. The dress shows off my toned runner legs and the jacket hits just below my ribs making my waist look small right before the dress flares out in a brilliant skirt. It is the best I can look in twenty minutes. I smile as I walk over and grab my purse.

              “Thank you.” I say to Michelle as I head for the door.

              “I’ll walk downstairs with you.” replies Michelle as she hops out of her bed keys in hand.

              One thing about dorm life is that the whole building becomes your home. It doesn’t just stop at your room. Michelle quickly slips on flip flops and follows me out of the room. I am getting nervous as we walk to my car. Michelle soothes me as she jabbers on the whole way.

              A quick hug and a well calculated dress placement to hop in the car without flashing and I am on my way. I opt to take Lakeshore Drive. It is longer with more curves, but it has less stop lights. This makes it a little quicker. I look to the right into the dark of Lake Pontchartrain. My mind quickly shoots back to the last time I saw Ty on the beach.  How fitting that this night back together should begin with me driving past the same lake where we last met. I touch my lips remembering the sweet kisses that lingered there that day. Butterflies begin to rise up in my stomach. How I yearn to feel his lips against mine once again. Whatever happens tonight, I will resolve to make the most of it. Tonight I will live each precious moment with Ty as if it were our last. Whatever tomorrow may bring, I will go into tonight knowing that Ty cares for me and I for him and that is all I need.

             
I pull up to the
gate
of Ty’s boat house. The French style fence opens as if on command. There standing in the middle of his front door is Ty. The gas lamps flicker sending shadows dancing across his face. My heart leaps with joy as I see the welcoming smile I have been dreaming of for weeks. I pull in and taking the free parking spot. Ty walks toward me. I take a deep breath.

              Calm down, Kimber, I tell myself. Just play it cool. Just play it cool.

              I take another deep breath. I am so nervous. Just the site of Ty sends butterflies through my stomach, but all of this added attention has sent me over the edge. It’s a tidal wave of emotions that never ends and I never want it to. I look into my rear view mirror and see Ty. I hear the handle of my door click and the cool air hits my face. The salty brackish mixture of Lake Pontchartrain lifts my spirits to an even new high. No matter how many places I have lived, New Orleans will always be my home and that distinguishable scent will always remind me of that. I breathe it in, holding it in my lungs as I hear the sweetest voice that I have ever known speak my name.

              “Hi Kimber.” Ty greets with a husky voice.

              I look up and smile. He offers me a hand to help me out of my car. I adjust my legs and dress before I get out. Ty’s hand is strong and steadies me as I step out of the driver’s seat. My knees are weak after seeing him.  I step away from my car and Ty slowly closes the door with his other hand. Still holding my hand in his, he grabs my waste with the other. Ty brings his lips close to mine sending my heart flying. I feel my composure begin to loosen. Just when I think he is about to kiss me, he speaks.

              “You’re late.” He whispers.

              This brings my composure back to me and immediately I think of a witty answer.

              “Only fashionably,” I whisper back then walk toward the door.

              He continues to hold my hand as we walk closer to the familiar house. I go up the wooden steps to the front door and feel Ty tug at my hand. I turn to look at him. For the first time, I see what he is wearing. Apparently my choice of dress was a good one. Ty is dressed up but in a comfortable way that looks effortless. I take a quick second to look him up and down. His sweater is a cream color. Soft ribbed lines knit into the material of the high necked collar as the emblem of a polo player stands out on his chest. The front zipper is partially open revealing a white undershirt. I assume it is one of his many Banana Republic v necks I have grown so accustomed to.

              His dark grey dress pants creased in the front fit him perfectly in all the right areas and to finish his style is a pair of dress shoes. The whole look is dressy casual and somehow compliments my outfit. I look into his eyes. They stare back at me with such tenderness that reflects through his smile.

              “So I have a surprise for you.” Ty states.

              I smile. This is way too many surprises.

              “I am going to go inside. I want you to stand out here and count to ten then come in.”

              He kisses my forehead.

              “That’s it?” I ask.

              “Yes. I have a feeling you will know what to do when you open the door.”

              Ty opens the door ever so slightly for him to fit in but not for me to see anything.

              “You look beautiful by the way.” Ty compliments as he closes the door.

              My heart rises in my chest as the anticipation builds. I have never had a guy surprise me like this. My mind swirls around all possibilities that are in front of me as I take a second to make a mental snap shot of this moment solidifying this feeling forever in my memory. There are so many things in life that are so precious. Each moment we have here on Earth is a gift. Time spent with Ty is a gift. Slowly I begin to count in my head. One, Two, Three… I take a deep breath. Four, Five, Six … fix your hair a little... seven, eight, nine…just breathe…ten. I turn the door knob slowly waiting with hitched breath for a click signaling the door’s willingness to open. As the door slowly pushes open under my touch, flowery smells mixed with vanilla waft out caressing my nose and causing my other senses to heighten. In front of me is a lit pathway composed of white candles casting soft light everywhere.

              The vibrant light dances across the floor but it is the rose petals that catch my eye forming a path that starts where I stand and leads up the stairs to a surprise I am meant to find. I take the first step forward more purposefully than the last solidifying in my mind the answer to the questions left so open ended last semester. I know Ty likes me. You do not set this up for someone you don’t like. You do not set this up for someone just to break up with them. I know this means something.

              The soft sound of jazz music dances from the room in front of me. The candles frame the pathway of flowers as I draw closer.  Up the stairs, through the living room, past the kitchen and into the study, I turn the corner and see my destination. On the balcony of the study overlooking parked boats in the water is a table set for two.  The rose petal path continues all the way out scattering around the deck and on to the white table cloth with candles elegantly placed in the center. It is the most romantic thing I have ever seen in my life and there, holding out a chair for me is the man who made it all come true. He is the man who I am falling in love with.

              I know my smile is ridiculously big but I cannot help it. Warmth fills my heart as I take that last step onto the balcony. The air is cool but not intolerable. The wind blows sending a nip of cold through my body, but it is not enough to detour me from the night. I sit down in the chair Ty holds out for me. He leans in and kisses me on my cheek.

              “Welcome back to New Orleans.” He whispers in my ear, his face lingering there ever so slightly longer than anticipated. He then shoots in to mimicking a waiter as he grabs the bottle of wine and pours.  Its label purposefully faces me so that I can read it. “For your first dinner back, I have made a pot of gumbo. It is a savory mix of taste and creole style with just a hint of spiciness over a bed of organic rice. I will bring that out shortly, but first…”

              Ty disappears returning with a covered tray. He places it on the table along with two appetizer plates. Dramatically and with much flourish, he flings off the lid.

              I laugh and then jokingly clap my hands to show my approval. Out of all the appetizers I have tried in New Orleans, the one I strangely like the most is fried pickles. There in front of me, for an appetizer, are fried pickles.

              “I added a little bit of Louisiana spice to bring out the… pickliness of the… pickles… and I made special dipping sauce to go along with it.”

              Ty is running out of words to describe things but his playful attempt at being pseudo waiter makes me laugh as it is intended to do.

              “This is amazing.” I gush as Ty takes the seat across from me. “This is just incredible.”

              I take a sip of the wine. It is sweet. Then I take a pickle and dip it in his home made sauce. It is sour. It is incredible. All I can do is smile as I enjoy one of the sweetest moments in my life. I sit there soaking it in.

              “So how was your Christmas?” Ty asks.

              “It was good.” I reply. “It was cold and not quite the white Christmas I wanted, but it was good. I got your flowers… all of them.”

              Ty smiles a crooked smile that makes my heart melt.

              “I was actually really surprised to have heard from you…”

              I feel myself drawing dangerously close towards questions about where he was for the past six weeks. A part of me aches, longing to throw every question I have at him right now. I waited so long for the answers but I didn’t want to bring it up this early in the night. I am just so happy to see Ty. To hold him and to touch him and to perhaps… kiss him (if we ever get to that part) is all I want to do tonight. I take a deep breath and just shut up hoping Ty will skirt over the question.

              “I couldn’t contact you.” Ty begins adjusting in his seat. “Sometimes… well, clothing most of the time is optional with my circumstance. Very rarely do you see a wolf running in jeans.” He smiles. “It was one of those situations where I couldn’t have my clothes with me which means no cell phone. By the time I got back, you were already gone and I had to go out of town again. So I thought it would be best to send flowers during your finals in hopes to lift your spirits. I liked the text you sent back.”

              His smile is genuine just like all of his smiles this night. I smile back at Ty hoping to turn his smile even brighter. It is a smile that I have been missing for way to long. I am sure Ty’s behavior would normally send warning signals to some girls, but then again, most girls don’t date a guy who can change into over a dozen various animals. My situation is unique and perhaps one of a kind.

              Ty gets up from the table striding the short distance to the sliding glass door to walk inside. I hear clanking in the kitchen. My only assumption is he was getting the gumbo ready to serve. I sit there looking out across the marina. The boats are all tied down for the night. Birds nestle in the nooks and crannies under the docks. Their white feathers give up their location in the dark shadows cast by lamps above the wooden planks. I glance at one particularly large boat. Perhaps it is big enough to be called a yacht. The grandeur and intricate designs lacing the sides certainly boasts prosperity. However, the size seems a bit small. Some of the boats are in their spot all the time. Perhaps it is a toy the owners got tired of.  Others are gone all the time. Wednesdays are the big days for the sailboats. Every Wednesday night, there would be a sailing competition. Sail boats of all sizes would trawl out of the docks and line up (as much as sail boats could line up when being pushed by the wind through water) to race. It is an amazing sight to see from the shore. Perhaps one day, I will experience it from a boat.

              Ty reappears with two big white bowls. He lays one down in front of me. Steam rises off of it in the cold night air. A round serving of rice sits like an island in a sea of gumbo. The peppers, onions, okra and celery lay smooth with the surface of the rue only to be broken up by small, succulent chunks of Andouille sausage and chicken. My mouth begins to water at the sight and I am all too aware that my last meal was six hours ago. The dish is comparable to any prestigious restaurant, perhaps even better knowing it is made especially for me. The smell of Louisiana spices waft up to my nose. I pick up my spoon in anticipation for the first bite. Ty taking his seat across from me to enjoy in the spoils of his hard work was the only cue I was waiting for before digging in. Sit he does and in return I plunge the spoon into the bowl gently taking a small bit of rice before dipping in the rue.

              I bring the spoon up to my mouth treating my taste buds to some of the best gumbo I have ever had. Immediately the spices ignite all my senses. The okra melts in my mouth and the rice is just the right consistency to be tasted through the gumbo without its texture over powering it. I love it.

              “This is incredible,” I say to Ty. “How did you learn how to cook?”

              “That gumbo is about forty years in the making.” Ty states. “You should have been here in the early years. It did not taste that good. My sister would barely touch it, but then again, she was about five years old. Her taste has since changed. Lucky for her too, my gumbo has gotten tremendously better.”

              “Where is Sarah tonight?” I ask.

              “She is still at our camp.”

              “I’m sure you planned it that way.”

              “A little of both.” Ty replies slyly.

              “So how old were you when she was born?”

              “Let’s see.” Ty began to reflect like my grandfather would do. “I was twenty four when she was born.”

              “Were you… a Totem by then?”

              “Yes,” replies Ty. “I became a Totem when I was twenty-two.”

              “How does it happen? How did you discover what you were to become?”

              “It was a surprise. It wasn’t pretty. It’s actually very painful. I mean physically painful… the change.”

              He takes another bite of gumbo as he stares down getting lost in his thoughts. I wait for him to continue.

              “One day you are fine. Then the next day you are sprouting wings. Your body just isn’t used to changing so it hurts and then I could not wrap my mind around what was happening. At least in my case it was wings. It is different for each person.”

              “How so?”

              “In our culture, everyone has a different animal spirit. This animal spirit is called your totem. Depending on what your true animal totem is, that is what you become first. Mine just so happens to be a raven.”

              “I could see that.” I reply. His dark features and movement make me think of a strong dark bird for some reason.

              “My transformation was an easy one. I turned into a little bird. So when I freaked out, which all Totems tend to do when we suddenly without warning change into an animal, my mess was easier to clean. Could you imagine changing in to something like an elephant or a tiger?”