Ashes Remain

by Alethea Stauron

  Drake answers, “Thank you. I got her that rose just a while ago.”

  But it’s all distant background noise to Josephine. Her focus is on every street they pass by. Picking out tall tourists with thick pecan hair that might walk with shoulders back and wear a strange uniform with three rings on the collar. A uniform that emphasizes broad shoulders and a chiseled physique. In fact, every confident stride turns out to be a soldier or cowboy wearing some pattern, as Lucius would say, or color other than charcoal and black. Every thick-haired man is a Hispanic gentleman or San Antonio native with dark eyes. None of them have shaggy hair with a point in the front. “There’s so many of them today,” she whispered. Several soldiers in uniform visit with family, but none of them catch her eye. He doesn’t wear camo. He doesn’t have family. She rubs her collarbone as if scratching guilt out of her body. “I think I missed him.”

  Drake trains himself, taking mental notes on what has occupied her attention. Josephine continues profiling every head of hair until her study breaks away from the crowd and lands on her favorite restaurant for a few moments. Her lips turn inward, swallowing what her lips pretend to be eating. She quickly forgets hunger and resumes investigation of every tall gentleman walking or sitting. She stares everywhere except at the pleasant river. She’s shadowed by a bridge when Drake moves tighter, as if making room for another passenger. His denim nearly sits on her legs. He speaks over her ear with his nose touching the baby hairs on her temple. “I know it’s hard talk’n during cruises and all, but you’re completely speechless. I know I ain’t caused this quiet behavior. Have I done some’n?”

  “I’m just looking.” She never moves her eyes. The shadow passes over as she focuses on the streets once again. “You’re fine.”

  “Thanks for the compliment.” He flirts as obvious as he can. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Her head pivots toward him. “That was cheesy,” she giggles.

  “There you are.” He rubs her bare shoulder under the guise of re-situating his elbow on the railing. “Hey, Jojo, whatcha thinking ‘bout? You worried ‘bout some’n?”

  “I thought I saw somebody I knew.” She shrugs back at him and bumps his hand off her shoulder without realizing. “That’s all. Someone who means a lot to me.” She then swivels her attention over upper streets.

  “Who?” He glances off with her. “An old friend perhaps?” Then he looks down where skirt droops between legs. “Another friend maybe?”

  Josephine spins to face him. He quickly makes eye contact as she smiles. “Yes. He’s an old friend. I guess you could say that.”

  “He?” Drake’s mouth doesn’t close like its gained five pounds in the last twelve milliseconds. “Um…” sitting up this time to look around with her, “Is he gonna kill me for being next to his sister, daughter, or… girlfriend maybe?”

  She laughs.

  The tour guide stops any rehearsed conversation from the voyage. “Sir, all passengers must remain seated.” When Drake regains his chair the tour guide continues, “It’s hard keeping these paying customers in stitches with my comments on this river when they’re all watching you two instead. I appreciate the help, but I’m teaching here. Unless, you would like to give the wonderful history of this spring that we’re about to cross over.” He directs everyone’s eyes toward the area. “Ladies and gentlemen, behold the famous bottomless lake. Every year this river is drained but we, indeed, can never empty this bottomless feature of our amazing San Antonio River. It is an endless spring of fresh water. A mystical wonder for generations.”

  Josephine and Drake stretch necks over railing. Drake huffs, “Bottomless…” sneering, “I wonder if there are people’s remains down there?”

  The tour guide comments in a scary yet amusing voice. “If there are…” wiggling fingers, “no one would know. Dead men tell no tales in the mysterious underworld.”

  The crowd chuckles.

  Drake smiles. “I just made that joke funny for you.” He whispers toward Josephine, “guessing I’m a crowd-pleaser now.”

  “No. I think he’s good at his job,” she said.

  Drake snaps his fingers. “Yep…” grinning, “but… I got you smiling. Didn’t I?”

  She nods, “You did.”

  ◆◆◆

  They step over fiberglass steps and onto stone walkway once again. Drake flashes a ten-dollar tip in front of her and makes his way toward a large tip jar. As soon as she turns, Drake twitches the bill back into his palm and slips it into his pocket instead. “Thanks for the ride guy.” The tour guide feeds him an obvious smirk and Drake shrugs off the look like a distant memory. He turns away and makes a few steps toward the area Josephine was standing in moments earlier, but…

  Josephine is already yards off.

  “Hold up.” Drake weaves through tourists occupying space between him and her and catches her arm. “Whoa.” He makes himself into a boundary in front of her. “Wait up, pretty lady.”

  Her weighted shoulders drop as she has no idea about what she’s doing wrong. Why is her morning walk turning into an afternoon quest to fulfill some unmapped chore she never wanted in the first place? “Thanks for the adventure. I had a lot of… interesting fun. I really think I should be getting home.”

  “Really,” Drake asked with his bottom lip appearing to swell up.

  “Been years since I’ve done that, but I have things to do.”

  “Leaving already? I was gonna ask ya if ya wanna get some’n to eat. I’m in the mood for Texas grill.” He tries on a serious face with a not so serious finger-pointing at her. “I ain’t taking no for an answer.”

  “I don’t —

  “Ya gotta eat, Jojo. What else do you do on the river? I know you haven’t eaten yet and it’s lunch time.”

  “You’re right.” Her stomach grumbles and she can’t think of a good excuse. She does have a slight hunger gnawing at her and was thinking about eating during the tour. With some allowance of a small smile, she announces, “Okay. But I can get my own. It’s one of my favorite places to eat anyway on the river.”

  “However, you like it, madame. Far be it from me to disturb how you flow.”

  “This is interesting so far, I must say. More interesting than emojis.” She makes a trail to her favorite restaurant on the river.

  Drake stays close behind while admiring her walk. Every now and then, his eyes squint as he licks air and gawks at how her hips sway inches in front of him. “I’m definitely hungry.”

  “My stomach…” Lucius swallows down heartburn, “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.”

  Agreeter wearing a neatly pressed uniform and headset escorts the two of them. She holds a chart, resting over her forearm, and casually marks used tables with black wax. Menus are laid down over weathered table settings on a patio balcony. She uses a suave rehearsed voice to make a quick remark about the secluded location with a captivating view that is away from the foot traffic of the river. Josephine fights the urge to roll her eyes back in her head.

  She doesn’t need to sell the spot to me. I prefer it up here. It’s quieter. Random people walking by my food… yuck.

  Josephine peers down at tourists and visitors as the restaurant seater says, “The chef says ribeye is choice today. Soup of the day is menudo. Your server will be out soon. Enjoy.”

  Josephine situates a draped napkin and un-crinkles starchy folds over her lap as Drake eyeballs the menu. Her emerald eyes, shaded by a cypress tree, jumps back and forth between the heavy mixture of Texan and Mexican flags donning the wrought iron barrier of the patio. Drake doesn’t need to look up to know he’s being watched across laminated pictures of food. “Ribeye, huh? Sounds good. I don’t mind getting yours for you. This place was my idea.” But in the midst of his smooth talking and gestures about picking up the tab…

  “Drake.” Josephine nibbles her bottom lip. “So, where’re you from? Do you usually take women hostage for a day?” A huffing giggle slides with her breath to cover any em
barrassing remarks in the hope that her conversation starter is considered more like a joke. Partially a joke anyway.

  Drake raises his expression. A quirky chuckle intermingles with hers. “What a strange thing to ask a normal guy like me…” appearing mildly hurt, “Never.” His shoulders drop, attempting to keep any more negativity from blooming. He brushes insulted fingertips across his chest and places down his laminated pictures. “Actually, I’m as astonished by this as you are. I didn’t know you’d be this friendly. You looked lost. It’s rare for me to meet new people. Like we said earlier… it’s easier to friend somebody on social media. I’ve become an introvert because of it. I felt bad for you.”

  “I looked lost?”

  “Yes… and alone. You reminded me of yours truly, and how I’ve been feeling. I was merely trying to be a helpful guide before I found out you actually lived here. I guess I felt like I needed… a purpose.”

  “A purpose,” she asked. The rhythm of his words sounded vaguely familiar.

  He slaps a napkin over his lap and tics his wrist. Speaking with a dominant conversing hand, “I never just run up to strangers, Jojo. Who does that? It’s brave of me with my recent anxiety.” He shrugs. “I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to serve you. Somebody. Anybody. I guess… deep down inside I have a heart for people. You know? I guess I can’t change that about myself, no matter how much I deny my own needs.”

  “That’s nice of you.” She studies his creamy brown eyes. He sounds different, so much more different from when she first assessed him. She thinks,

  Maybe, he’s not that bad. He’s going through something difficult?

  Lucius grumbles in the distance. “No… your first thought was right about him. Run baby, run as fast as you can. I’ve read his mind. He’s a —

  “You didn’t answer my question…” Josephine separates her utensils over an unused plate for appetizers “… I wanted to know —

  “Here you go.” A slightly elevated voice comes out from the figure watching in the distance. “Sorry for the wait.” Cold glasses of water slide in front of each of them. The server introduces herself and takes lunch orders.

  The interruption disturbs Josephine’s conversation for several minutes. A conversation she nearly forgot she was investigating with. As the server walks off, Josephine remembers, “Anyway, as I was saying…” opening her palm as an invitation for Drake to intersect at any time, “if you know the area enough to be a tour guide, where do you live?”

  “In the country somewhere. No big thang.” He shrugs. “Ain’t important where I live. What’s important is we both live close together, instead of being a tourist or some shit like that.”

  A quick wobble of hazel eyes and Josephine asks, “Did you just cuss at me?”

  “What… me?” He smoothly erases his last statement. “No ma’am. I don’t cuss. Gentlemen don’t do that.”

  “I thought I just heard you say… the ‘S’ word.”

  Lucius springs in place. “He did. He did,” pointing, “I heard him. Definitely the ‘S’ word. Baby, let him have it!”

  Drake presses an innocent thumb into his Adam’s apple. “Who me? That sounds terrible.”

  Yeah, you. Lucius is red-faced. You playing deaf now?

  Drake continues, “I said some’n ‘bout the tourist ship like that.” He points toward a ferry passing by with a tour guide speaking into a microphone. “Like the one we were just on. I ain’t said no cuss’n words. No, ma’am. No gentleman says that in front of a lady, especially, a local lady. My momma’d wash out my mouth wit soap talk’n like that.” He clears his throat. “I was asking if you’re from here and not a tourist only staying long enough to ride a ship.” He squints and begins to play off his mistake by blaming loud foot traffic, ferryboat announcements, and children playing with new trinkets along the walkway adjacent to the open-air restaurant. He signals toward his ear. “I guess it’s hard to hear sometimes. Anyway, glad you live nearby… is what I was trying to say. I’ll try and say ferry from now on, instead of ship.”

  Josephine’s lips stretch. “I guess it’s great that I live close. Makes my drive home shorter.” She raises a drying rose and wraps it with a wetted tissue from under her glass. “Maybe this won’t completely die.” Josephine taps her nose sheepishly in the air. “Sorry ‘bout that… again.”

  “No problem. Where’re ya located ‘round here?”

  “Well… San Antonio has always been my home really. I’ve lived in other areas or visited…” She removes paper from the straw and half of it floats down and lands on the patio beside her, “but this is where I was raised. Excuse me,” leaning over, “Dropped my trash,” reaching before it blows away.

  Drake winks and adjusts his hat toward the new skirt counting empty tables. As soon as Josephine boosts back up, he focuses on her. A sly lean into his chair makes room to proceed wooing the woman he now sits with. “Of course, it’s great. How else are we supposed to have a good relationship if you live in Austin or some’n?”

  Josephine immediately chokes on her drink, and Drake carries over a napkin midway across the table. An artificial smile blocks any hidden misery of his failed delivery. “I mean —

  “Relationship,” clearing her throat. “Did you say… relationship?”

  “Well, yeah…” He shrugs pouty eyes that slowly crawl up toward hers. “I need a good friend,” he elaborates as he puckers every ounce of sadness at her. “I just got out of a bad relationship. I couldn’t bear to love anyone right now. I’ve lost faith in humanity. I guess I need a purpose in life… or a real friend. A friendly relationship.”

  It’s obviously not what she was expecting. His expression is too heavy for her to walk away from. “What happened?”

  His eyes help in outlining his personal story of historical disaster. “Oh…” adding dramatic flair in the vibrations of his spill, “… she done rip my heart out, Jojo. And did a jig on it.” He drags his vision across tabletop as if scraping off dishes. “Thought ‘bout end’n my life. Today even. I figured I’d give living another chance… just one more day of blowing what little money I had on a stranger. You can’t live as a victim when people do you wrong, I told myself. There are plenty of people out there who’re kind and wanna be your friend, Drake, I said. I ain’t looking for love. I need a pal. Someone I can trust. A true companion and a real person. Then… I saw you.” His eyes meet hers. “A local country girl. You looked like you needed a friend… and just as badly as I do…” He grins, “A friend with a nice smile. You even teased me a little, kinda like a pal. And I miss that. I didn’t mind spending a few dollars, if it meant seeing a friendly smile one last time. The finale of my life, my final show of what I could’ve offered.”

  Guilty pressure rushes through Josephine’s chest. She glances off in the distance trying to figure out how to end her day without being rude, without being the cause of something she couldn’t imagine being a part of. But… after his comments,

  Is that why he’s so nice? He’s been through so much already. What if he’s serious about killing himself? What if I was the one person that could’ve stopped him? Could’ve made a difference? I was asking for purpose.

  Drake’s eyes roll for a moment as he takes a deep breath and reaches further for her sympathy. He reads her body language and continues, “I saw a kind face today. You reminded me of my dead sister.” Josephine jerks a gaze over as he signifies a crucifix over his head with large pleading eyes.

  The pressure over her chest is a crushing guilt by now, helping to glue her lips shut from any protest of ending her day on such a note. She couldn’t be the cause of someone surrendering his last breath. Her thoughts are easily visible through her expression.

  He continues, “But… I need a friend… kind. Witty. Likes to get dragged around by a pitiful man like myself. I didn’t mean to burden you.” He shrugs. “You’re so nice.” And he does it, he says the one thing that kept her tethered to the guilt complex in his words. He nudges his chin through the air and s
ignals to her that the large Texas-sized ball is in her court. “You know… it’s because of you. It’s because of you I’m still alive right now. In just these few hours… you’re saving my life.” His expression falls. “I guess I’m annoying… dragging ya around. I should just go home and take… one… last… look around.”

  “No,” reaching her arm out, “Don’t think like that. I didn’t mean —

  “Friendly until the end.” Drake pats her knuckles from across the table. “We could’ve been good friends. Just remember it’s not your fault. Just the hand I was dealt in life. Everybody dies sometime… right?” He braces himself as if getting up from the table and takes a lengthy look at all the surrounding places. “Today was a good day.”

  “Wait!” Josephine grips his hand tightly to keep him from leaving. “I know how it feels to love someone who leaves you. I know how badly it feels… where you wish you would’ve died in place of your family.”

  Drake relaxes muscles in his chair, trying to remember which story she’s reacting from. “Oh yeah, my ex.” He has already forgotten what he had just told her but suddenly remembers. “My sister, that’s right. God rest her soul.” He does the sign of the cross for a second time. “I don’t know how much more I can take. Everything’s anguish right now. Death is my only way out without a lifeline.”

  She gazes down toward a portion of skirt material peeking out beneath her napkin. It’s the same skirt she was wearing when Lucius placed her on the countertop and fed her soup to nurse her back to health. The feeling of helping somebody draws her in.

  Josephine, don’t be selfish, she tells herself, you were nursed back to health one time before.

  Drake ballets soft fingers across the back of her hand, embracing the gap between her index and thumb with a warm grip. She nods. “I know how lonely you can get. It hurts. People don’t deserve to be hurt like that.” As she drowns beneath the burden of missing Lucius, her arms squeeze her shoulders inward. The slump of her back causes a crease under her neck, creating a shady area where her top button allows a slight invite for wandering eyes.