I wondered if it was the alcohol from the late night at the park, but sometimes the dreams would come when I hadn’t been drinking with the boys. I didn’t know what to do, but I went to bed those nights with great anticipation. There was always the fear, though, that the dreams would stop one day.
By the time the new school year started, I had gently tucked away this little fantasy of mine into a box with a pretty bow in the back closet of my mind. The last Friday night up on the hill, I was tempted to unwrap the box. I chose not to.
The first day of my senior year, I woke up and got ready like I always did. But that day was different than all the rest, in more ways than one. I had been relieved of music duties, which alleviated the burden of carrying anything more than my notebook. I took a glance at the large radio with its well-worn cassette buttons sitting on a chair in the far corner of my room. It had served my rise to credibility well.
While I got dressed in blue jeans and a boring shirt, I wondered what everyone else would be wearing. Janie and her group would be pure punk. A guessing game ensued revolving around whether her hair would be colored or not, and, if so, what shade.
It was also the day my parents left the blue NASA jacket for me to find. After putting it on, I ran through the park with reckless abandon.
Summer was enjoying its last glory, and there was a hint of an autumn wind. Thomas had already left, as I was late. The ground was moist from a late-night shower. I was in full gallop as I saw the pack assembled near the sandbox by the kiddie section of the park.
“Kiran, what the heck, man? What took you so long?” said Dale, wearing a vintage Zappa T-shirt. “No radio?”
“Not my turn this year.”
Thomas quickly interjected. “This one is on Marius. Where is he?”
I could hear the footsteps coming up behind. I recognized the shrill wail that was Janie’s voice.
“Cool jacket. Almost punk. Not quite. Almost.”
“Thanks.” Her hair color was a dark brown now, with some green and blue streaks. It was slightly longer than last year, yet still no river of wheat from her youth. “Don’t want to get in trouble first day, right,” I said laughingly.
“Yep. Tomorrow, it’s all blue.”
“I know you don’t smoke so I won’t bother you.” She was on a mission. She and her posse moved on ahead, as usual, trying to shakedown anyone who smoked. “Remind me to get that album Evol from you. You have it?” I knew, like the changing of the seasons, she would eventually ask to borrow something.
“Yeah. I do. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
“Well, the bell rings in like ten minutes. We can’t wait for Marius all day.”
“Maybe he was expelled.”
“Naw, he would still show. Shit. He would be early, I’m guessing.”
Suddenly, we could hear it. Long before we could see Marius and his ghetto blaster coming down the hill from the other side of the park, the trademark sound of The Who punched holes in the air as he approached.
Before we could sing the next line, Marius came thundering down the hill, backpack, construction boots, and all, singing the climatic verse from “Bargain”, before contorting his body into a semi-drum roll and guitar windmill.
“Wow. Wellsie. You finally decided to dress up for school. That is a great-looking jacket. What the hell are you guys doing? We’ll be late.” He pumped up the volume even higher and led the charge.
I trailed behind, waiting for Moony to catch up. He lived off of the far side of the park. Coming from the opposite end, he would pass through the woods to meet us here. I wondered if they cut off the passageway through the woods. They had some little kids getting lost in there this past summer.
I finally saw Moony appear out of the forest. He made it a point to tell me that what he was wearing was the same cloak. We noticed how sparingly he wore it under the summer’s sun. It was smaller on him now, as even he had grown. No longer did it reach down to touch the ground as he walked. The brown leather straps that hung down from the satchel he wore to carry his books were worn and weather-beaten, giving it a certain charm.
“Looks good, Moony,” I said, waving my hand at his cloak. “You’ve grown into it. Looks much better on you. Hopefully, you won’t trip on it all year.”
He laughed as he usually did, hysterically with his head careening up and down.
We made our way into the school when the opening bell sounded, a feeling of total exhilaration swept across me. This was it. My last year in high school, and I felt like I owned the universe. I gave a small fist pump to myself and then entered what I thought was my kingdom for one last glorious year.
I made my way to the locker bay and passed by Marius’s locker in the row just behind mine. We shared the same classes and in between took stock of how the day was progressing, laughing at the teachers and classmates we had and how easy this year would be.
Marius pointed his finger at me. “Do well, buddy. You have to get into the same college as me.”
It was all a total ruse and Marius’s way of reminding me of my mission. I knew I would have to work hard to help Marius get through, and the average he needed would not be a sure thing. I was confident, though, since I helped him get by last winter, and he was in most of my classes this year. Moony got nineties, or so we imagined. He told us he was going to college wherever we were. Over the summer, we never spoke about any other school other than the nearby college. In our circle, no one thought they had the financial means to entertain any other options.
“Well, one more class to go, English literature,” I declared.
“Cool. Do I have time to smoke?”
“No, you can wait ’til after school. Let’s not be late for anything the first day.”
“I was going to tell you about the girls. There’s talk, you know. A couple girls think you look good in your new jacket.”
“Really,” I said, half mocking as I mimicked Marius’s inflection. “They just like the jacket.”
“Hell no. C’mon dude. It’s the man in the jacket.” He poked me on the shoulder and started shaking his head. “I do not know what it is with you and girls. Seriously. You are so difficult when it comes to chicks. There are girls out there who like you, you know.”
“Aw man. Let me just enjoy my year.” I could tell he was annoyed because he rolled his eyes clockwise and counter-clockwise for emphasis. He knew that despite my bravado with the guys, I was scared shitless.
“Why are you taking your jacket to English class?”
“I figured since it was last period we can take off right after school without coming back to our lockers.”
He quickly reached into his locker to pull out his red-and-black-squared lumberjack coat and put it under his arms. “Good idea. Now don’t you even want to know about Janie’s friend who . . . ?”
“Leave it alone, Marius. Leave it alone.”
“Damn. They have to bite him on the fricken rear end to wake him up.” He pretended to mumble.
“I heard that.”
“Sorry.”
I laughed and stopped abruptly. The pretty bow on the box deep in the closet seemed to undo slowly. I strained my thoughts through a silk filter hoping to recall the melody of that voice about to escape. Panic swept over me. I could not recall that voice anymore. I just knew that there was a dream. The voice was gone.
I trembled ever so slightly as one would at the onset of a fever. It was gone. It was like some cruel joke. I could no longer recall the dream or that voice of calm or comfort. Why I suddenly wanted to hear that voice, those soft flowing waves, I didn’t know. Maybe it was the thought of a girl being interested in me. I longed for the voice, that one voice to be conjured up. Like the eighteenth-century pirates burying their treasures on a distant shore only to return to find the box empty, I felt the pulp sucked out from my gut.
I noticed Marius looking bac
k, obviously wondering why I slowed down, so I stepped up my pace. In doing so, my mind moved back to the here and now. I had hidden away the box for too long, and now everything in it vanished. I was briefly yet quite profoundly sad for a reason I didn’t understand.
Before I knew it, we had reached our English lit class, with Marius scampering on ahead so he could get the last seat at the back of the class. I could see him throw his backpack on the desk directly in front. I knew immediately what that meant. It was my preordained seat.
Suddenly leaping out in front of me was Moony.
“Something wrong, bad day?”
“No. No. Um . . . I just left something at home, is all. Forgot where I put it. You know how it is.”
He smiled back. “Today is a good day. The first day.”
“Of course, the first day of school. Great day so far.”
Moony grinned and retreated to the first available seat at the front of the class. I bumped into the first desk and dropped my backpack and jacket. I knelt down to pick up the pens and pencils that spewed out and reassembled the books I dropped.
While I was kneeling down, I could hear the banter of the students proceeding in. Some were introducing themselves to the teacher. Then, as if the earth had suddenly stopped spinning, a gentle, soft feminine voice rose and found its way through the din of the shrill and deep voices occupying the classroom space to my welcoming ear.
“Mrs. Woodsmith. I noticed we’ll be doing poetry. Will we be studying the works of T. S. Eliot?”
“Yes. Indeed.”
“‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’?” The voice was hesitant, each word becoming more of a whisper than the previous.
“Yes, why do ask? You seem concerned.”
“Well, I was wondering, if you know, I mean, if all the works we would be studying would be, you know . . . bleak,” she said plaintively.
I could hear Mrs. Woodsmith get up from the desk and move closer to her.
“Ah. It’s all how you interpret them,” she said laughingly. “For sure, we will study others that are very romantic and much more upbeat.”
“I do enjoy Eliot, too.” I could hear the footsteps move away to the far corner of the room.
The voice was unmistakable. It was the voice, tone for tone, vibration for vibration, the voice of my dreams. It was beyond a doubt. With each word she uttered, I studied every syllable in my mind and replayed it a million times in the seconds she spoke.
My hands were trembling uncontrollably, and a shiver went from my toes to my spine. I was scared to lift my head. It was a voice I recognized and didn’t recognize at the same time. It hadn’t lived in my world until now, only in my dreams. The voice now drifted in waves across the very air I breathed. The deeply buried box had opened and the gift given for my private world to enjoy. No wonder it had been emptied minutes earlier.
My eyes betrayed me; I looked. I mean, I had to. Across the room, I could see the long, flowing black hair all the way below her shoulders and midway down her back. She arrived at the last available seat at the opposite end of the classroom. It was at the rear of the class directly opposite Marius. When she turned to sit, she looked up at the board. She had the prettiest dark eyes I had ever seen. Her face was small and angular and perfectly formed. I stared at her lips, hoping they would open so I could hear the voice again. She wore small black-framed glasses that reflected like a diamond as the sunlight hit them.
Suddenly, Mrs. Woodsmith addressed me. “Have your seat, Mr. Wells,” she cooed. “I believe your friend has saved you one.”
“Right,” I said, wondering if the whole world had seen my staring and if my secret had been betrayed. I realized what for me was forever had happened quickly. While I made my way to my seat, I carefully avoided gazing at the other side of the class. I took one last look as I spun in my seat. She was certainly real. She was definitely there, and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.
I took a bottomless and steady breath.
I had never felt this way before. My heart raced as if trying to leave my body. My thoughts danced around the image I could now frame in my mind. I could think of nothing else at that moment and all moments going forward. The whole world seemed suddenly different and new, as if a treasure had suddenly been revealed only to me.
I felt alive. At the same time, in the depths of my heart now, I felt the distance in the physical world between us. I was still on one side of the classroom, and this stunning girl who rose to life from my dreams was only twenty feet or so away from me. It might as well have been light years. The frustrating search for the theory of everything within a teenage soul is how the scientist would document my frustration.
I had to trade places. I had to be able to look at her. I couldn’t right now. I had to have Marius’s seat, though I could never tell him exactly why. He would ruin it for me or think I was infantile. Very quietly and calmly, I whispered to Marius, “Want to change seats? I can see fine from the back.”
“You must be joking. I like to sit here. I can see your answers from here.” He put his big construction boots up on the radiator at the back of the class. “See, I need a good warm footrest.” I was about to push the subject and stopped short. He would find it strange. Besides, Mrs. Woodsmith was starting to go through the attendance and I had to find out who the girl was.
Name after name went and nothing.
Kiran Wells.
“Present.”
Laura Winters.
“Present.”
There was the voice. Laura Winters. The name rolled on top of the voice in my mind. I searched the depths of my memory and could not come up with the name. She had never been in any of my classes in high school until now. Was she new? That would explain a lot.
The bell rang. The class, seemingly, had only lasted mere seconds. I planned to wait and let Laura leave first so I could watch discreetly at the safest of distances. Unfortunately, Marius was poking at me.
“Hurry up, slowpoke. Let’s get out of here. Remember, you wanted to get out fast.”
“Yup, correct,” I said, and before I knew it, I was shoved out the door and out of the school.
Desperately, I tried to look back to find her in the parade of people leaving the school. We went to the park and shot the shit for hours. Or, at least, the guys did. Conversations bounced around me and off of me, but I was in my own world.
After everyone else went home, I lingered for a while by myself. I slowly made my way up to the top of the hill that overlooked the river nearby. I could hear the water running and wave after wave flowing by me. On the horizon, the sun shone bright orange and in the backdrop, I could see the moon emerging slowly from the clouds. I thought of the girl with the voice, the eyes, the hair, and the name, Laura Winters, and somehow while on that hill, it all seemed so simple and peaceful.
I thanked my mom and dad for the jacket again that night and ran to my room. The next day could not come fast enough. I prepared my bed and fluffed my pillows, hoping to welcome any dream seeking shelter in my subconscious.
CHAPTER 17
Invigorated from a blissful sleep, for the first time in my life, I looked forward to being at school as opposed to enjoying the journey there. I pleaded to the heavens the preceding night that this was not some cruel nightmare and that Laura Winters existed.
Marius walked with me to school that morning, cautiously interrogating me. “You’re acting differently. Why are you in such a rush?”
I knew I had to scale it back. I couldn’t tell Marius much. He wouldn’t understand. He’d been on my case since I met him. How could I explain that I read poetry at home and enjoyed T. S. Eliot? How could I explain that I could never tell anyone that or why I felt scared? Then suddenly comes this girl who gets poetry, has been in my dreams, and is now in my class. This year of all years. I was dying to ask about her. I needed to know everything a
bout her, and if anyone knew her. I couldn’t afford to have anyone becoming suspicious of me.
“It’s the weather. It is such a gorgeous day out, and I had a good night’s sleep. That’s all. Look, there’s Moony. I need to ask him something.” I ran over to Moony near the entrance of the school. Even if he got suspicious, he wouldn’t say anything. He had his litany of things to talk about first. No one would be able to decipher the riddle when he spoke, thankfully.
“Hey, Moony, did you notice how many new kids there are in school this year? A few transferred in, eh?” I rattled off a list of two to three newcomers before I strategically added, “And some girl named Laura, maybe Winters?”
“Hmm. Yeah, there are some new ones this year. Hey, remember when I was the new kid? Wow. Seems like yesterday.” You could see his mind drift off into another orbit. I reached out to his thought bubble, trying to pull it back toward me.
“Yeah. Do you know anything about them?”
He went through the names I mentioned and went on and on about what he knew.
“And what about Laura Winters? You didn’t mention her.”
“No, she’s not new. She was in a couple of my classes last year. I think she always went to this school.”
I was dumbfounded while my heart slightly sank. She had been in this school all this time! “I’ve never seen her, so I thought she was new. I wonder where she lives, because I haven’t seen her around.”
“She’s a busser. Lives over on the other side of town.”
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