Taken by Storm
Page 9
“i wish you’d let me be the judge of that.”
“Behave or I’m starting the car back up.”
“Only if you take your jacket back off.”
She shakes her head, but the jacket slides off. Arms, shoulders, bare neck and chest. Even a strip of stomach.
“Is all the skin you’re showing safe?”
She nods slowly. “I guess so. What do you want to do with it?”
i start with her fingertips, run my lips up her arm, rest them awhile on her shoulder. She tastes amazing. Oceanic. Then i explore her clavicle. i rest my face on her chest, just north of the forbidden zone. Her heart beats hard and fast against my cheek. i leave a mark where no one will see it but her.
“Michael.” She takes my face in her hands, tips my head back.
“i’m here, babe.” i smother her mouth like she wants. She shivers, but i know she’s not cold. i pick up her jacket and drape it over us. My hands explore her back, coast around, find the bare strip of smooth flat stomach.
She stops me there. “We better go.” She kisses me one last time.
i let go of her. Recess again.
She squirms into her jacket and starts the car.
“You really want to go to that dance?” i pick up her sweater lying on the seat.
“Please take me.” She pulls a three-pointer and heads toward Teacup. “My birthday’s a few days later. Let’s celebrate.”
After what just happened, i’m not sure what she means by “celebrate.” Her rules keep shifting on me. i know what i want for her eighteenth birthday. One night with her beside me. Would i still be happy to just hold her? i don’t know. i’m definitely not broken anymore. And her Ice Queen crown steamed right off her head. “Give it to me straight, Leese. What are you saying?”
“That I want to dance with you.”
“And?”
“Just dance.”
“How do Mormons dance?”
“You’ll see.”
chapter 22
SERIOUS
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM# 33, SOME GOOD ADVICE
she knows I’m lying,
my mother balancing on the edge of my bed,
her hands clasped around her knee, worrying
about me, dating a nonmember, like he’s
a diseased criminal rapist.
I just kissed him good night—
with stephie spying and my nosy mother
watching the clock.
this is what I get for bringing him home
after Halloween at gram’s
and letting mom pump his hand and say
how sorry she is until he
turned green.
Five minutes—must have been some kiss.
Five minutes is nothing, mom.
she knows that, too.
You’re spending way too much time with him—
We just study.
and make out. and make out some more—
with my feet forever planted on the floor.
I can’t say good night to his lips,
close the door on his shattered eyes, and leave
his hands empty.
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.
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
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—
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.
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,
He needs me,
trembles from my lips,
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.
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?
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.
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.
Even though I know god is, at best,
his enemy, at worst,
my myth.
mom stands up, and I pray she’s leaving
convinced, calmed, pacified—
but the worry lines are back:
I was just nineteen when I met your dad—
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.
Do I have to choose? Why can’t
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.
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. O2 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. Mak
ing 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.
the clock ticks.
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?
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?”
“The ones flying south.”
We linger at the edge of the pond waiting for ducks. i stand behind her with my arms around her middle, my face in her hair. “Speaking of diving—”
“We weren’t—”
“i called the dive shop in Spokane. They run trips over to the wrecks near Vancouver. Advanced heart-pumping stuff.” i hug her.“How far is Vancouver?”
She tenses up. “How can you want to dive a wreck?”
“Probably too rough this time of year. Summertime, though. We should check it out.”
“You’ve totally lost me. What am I supposed to do? Paddle around in my canoe?”
“Learn to dive. Scuba is so easy, babe.” i nuzzle her neck to get her to relax. “Your fear of the water will disappear after the first day.” She’s still uptight. i try rubbing her shoulders, but she shrugs away. “i know there’s still a fish swimming around inside you.”
“Did the doctor change his mind?” Why does she go there?
“i need to dive.” That comes out too harsh. “i never realized how hard it would be.” i try to keep my voice in coax mode. “If you go with me, it makes it all easy.”
“But I can’t keep you safe.”
i’m hanging on to playing nice by a strand of her gorgeous hair. “i’ll keep you safe.”
She shakes her head. “The doctor said—”
“Come on, babe.” i lean over and kiss her temple. “Dive with me,” i breathe into her ear. “i need something from you.”
She twists in my arms so she can scold me eye to eye. Her face drifts deep into frown territory. “I’m doing my best.”
“Shopping trips and dances? i’m not a chick.” i capture her lower lip and suck on it. “Learn to dive.” i kiss her again and whisper, “Be my buddy.”
She settles her face on my neck. “You’ve got yourself convinced diving will make your parents’ deaths go away.”
Now i tense up.
She strokes my face. “It won’t. Nothing will. You need to open up. Talk to me. Cry.”
i push back from her. “Like i really need a snivel fest. i’m trying to be strong.” i pull her close against me, kiss her hard and urgent. “i need to dive.”
She hides her face in my chest, breathless, clinging to me. “It’s not safe.”
“How about this”—i tangle both hands in her hair—“you do one pool dive, just easy resort course stuff to try it out, and i’ll cry on your shoulder the whole next day.”
She tilts her head back and glares. “That’s so sincere.”
“It’s just a pool.” i glare right back. “We’ll have a dive instructor with us. What more could you ask for?”
Her eyebrows draw together. “What does Gram say?”
i stroke Leesie’s cheek. “She doesn’t need to know.”
She pulls back. “I draw the line there.”
“Crap, Leese.” i lean over her. “Why do you have this compulsion to make everything difficult?”
“I’m just trying to do what’s right.”
She squirms, but i don’t let her loose. “One day you’re going to wake up and realize it’s all wrong.”
She stops twisting. “Where will you be on that day?” Her voice is so sad it makes me hurt. “Cheering as I crash and burn?”
i rest my forehead against hers. “How can you say that, babe?” i swallow hard. “i’ll be waiting to catch you.” i try to convince her with my lips, but she breaks it off.
She leads me to the barn and opens the door. i balk at the smell.
“Don’t be a wimp.” She pushes me inside the hot barn.
The place reeks like a giant outhouse. A pig snorts.
Leesie gives me a smile to brave me up. “Heat lamps and mama pigs.”
My eyes water. “This better be good.”
“Relax.” Her voice has that authoritative tone she uses when she’s on a rant at school. “You won’t smell it after a minute.” She drags me down the aisle to where a big, fat mama pig, basking in the glow of a heat lamp, stretches on her side and feeds a bunch of squirming, pink, rat-like babies.
Leesie grins and leans over the pen. “There’s eight. Good litter. Shoot, Dad’s cut their tails already.”
A bucket at my feet holds a razor knife and a pile of tiny tails.
My stomach foams into the back of my throat. “This is making me sick.”
“I thought you’d like to see them. The piglets. I didn’t know about the tails.”
i rush outside. Inhale. Blow it out. Inhale again.
Leesie follows
. “You’re just a squeamish city boy, aren’t you?” She fakes a laugh. “Guess I better not tell you what else Dad cuts.”
“Should i be afraid?”
Her grin evaporates.
“Is this some kind of a twisted warning?” i kick a mound of clean pine shavings.