by R. J. Rogue
"So, are you saying you would like to go?"
"So, are you saying you would like to show me?" she smiles.
I smirk at her sense of humor.
"If it's not conflicting with any plans you have, I would love to show you."
"I don't have anything planned at all."
"Well okay...um...let's go," I shrug with a smile.
"You won't kidnap me right?" she laughs.
Crap. She's onto me. As much as I would love to, I wouldn't.
"No, of course not," I laugh. "I wouldn't do anything that would put you in any harm or make you feel uncomfortable."
"That's quite a promise there, Evan."
I look over at her and she smiles.
"I like it."
"You can count on it too."
She turns her face away as she smiles pressing her lips tightly together. What? Did I just make Essence blush? No. No way. That's impossible.
"You know what would make me even more comfortable?" she asks.
"What's that? I'll do anything?"
I hope I don't sound so easily submissive.
"If you met my father. At least so he doesn't question me about who I associate with."
I nod my head in agreement.
"Not a problem at all. Completely understandable."
"Okay," she smiles then grips the forearm of my jacket. My heart skips then leaps into my throat. I grip both on my hands on the steering wheel to keep us from crashing like my train of thought.
We soon pull into her driveway and head up the steps to her white house. She knocks on the door. I shiver.
"Cold?" She asks.
"More like nervous," I say fidgeting in place.
A few moments later, the door opens. A tall man with freckles, glasses, short red hair, and a fairly young face, smiles.
"Hello, dear," he says to Essence then hugging her.
"Hi, dad," she responds hugging him back. When they let go, he looks at me a bit confused.
"And who might you be?" he asks with a welcoming smile.
"Hi, umm," I respond. I pull my hand from my pocket to shake his hand. He accepts and squeezes a bit. I continue to shake his hand unable to let go. He chuckles a bit and nods waiting for me to speak.
"Dad, this is Evan. Evan Macrae."
Good save, Essence, I think to myself.
"He's a great friend of mine. Gave me a ride home from school."
I smile.
"Pleased to meet you, sir."
"You too, and please, call me Tom," he says. "Sir, or Mr. LaRoux makes me feel older."
"Sorry," I say. "Pleased to meet you, Tom."
"Much better," he laughs.
"Evan saved me from the rain," Essence adds smiling.
"Is that so?!" He exclaims, but then his face turns into disappointment. "Aw shucks, dear, I'm sorry I had completely lost track of time. I was working on a few things and --"
"It's okay dad," she says. "I know how focused you are when you're writing. Evan is a writer too."
I look over at Essence shocked. She turns to me with a huge smile and winks. I sink into my chest.
"Really?" He says. "What do you like to write?"
"Um," I say.
"I know, I know. I get this question a lot too which is always difficult to answer without cringing."
I chuckle and try to think.
"I guess anything that comes to mind."
"Best answer ever," he says with a point. "OH! Would you kids like to come inside instead of us being out here in the rain?" He steps to the side.
"Oh, no dad. Actually, I was wondering if I can take a ride with him to his house. He was going to show me around the forest."
"In the rain? You could sick."
"We'll take that chance."
"You never fail to surprise me," he smiles. "That will be just fine. Be home for dinner. And keep her safe," he says turning to me.
"I will sir-- I mean, Tom."
He nods and smiles. We shake hands again.
"See you soon," he kisses Essence's cheek. "Be safe."
"I will," she says as we head back down the steps. "Bye dad," she calls. "Thank you!"
He leans in the doorway holding a big white smile. I see where Essence gets hers. I open the door for her to get in.
"It'll be hard getting used to such chivalry," she smiles as she gets inside.
"You have no other choice," I say. She wipes her face before smiling back into mine. I return the gesture, close her door, and hop back in the driver's seat. I start the car and begin to pull out from their driveway. Tom stands in the doorway and waves us goodbye before going back inside. I then get us on the road to head for the Mohawk River Valley.
"Well, that wasn't so bad now was it?" she asks.
"Not at all," I say looking over. "He was very welcoming."
"He's always to himself, just like me," she says.
"We all have that in common."
There goes that silence again -- and my thoughts. Mike bounces off every wall inside my brain. What does Bianca know? I marked it down as my next mission: Find Bianca's house. Would that make me a stalker? Someone crazy? Or does the safety of my best friend prove how sane I really am? You protect the people you care about no matter the cost. I'll find Mike even if it leads me to my grave.
"It's so sad about what's going on with Mike. I'm sure his family is very concerned," Essence says breaking the silence.
My hands clench around the steering wheel and I flinch.
"Yes. It is very sad. His family is worried sick."
"I know he's your best friend, Evan," she places a hand onto my knee. "I'm sorry."
Her touch doesn't allow me to move. It was comforting, so I do not want to. Even though Bianca had told me Mike is fine, I can't fathom what else is going on with him.
"Thank you, Essence. Just wish I could do something about it. Mike’s not just my best friend. He's my only friend."
"I'm your friend too now, Evan. Making you possibly my only friend as well. I'll help you find him. We'll get Mike back."
I nod and can’t help but believe her.
"Now, there's a smile."
"You make it easy to," I say looking at her.
She caresses the side of my face. I love how she expresses herself not only with words, but with touch.
"No more sad faces," she says smiling back at me. I nod.
"I like the sound of that."
Silence falls upon us once again, but not an awkward silence. A warm one. I continue down the road. We should be close to my house soon enough.
"Do you like being to yourself all the time?" I ask. "I mean, it's surprising you don't have many friends. I took you for someone who would have plenty."
She turns to the window and exhales.
"I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"
She shakes her head and looks down at a black rose bracelet around her wrist. She looks back out the window and draws circles over the black rose with her thumb.
"No. You're okay, Evan," she responds. She falls silent for a few moments.
“I use to have a friend—a best friend.”
"What happened? Did you two get into a fight?"
She shakes her head.
"She—um," she clears her throat before answering. "She passed away. Cancer."
I gasp and look over at her regretting that I asked.
"I'm so sorry, Essence I--"
"Didn't know," she nods. "It's okay, Evan." She looks back at me and tries to smile.
"Her name was Claire. Claire Bonnet. At the time, my father and I lived in Geneseo. Claire was – beautiful. She had long blonde hair, always wore bright colored clothes, and loved flowers. Roses. Black ones."
She looks down at her bracelet and my eyes follow.
"She fought for years. Before then, she seemed so happy, you just couldn't tell that something was wrong. I didn't find out until I overheard my dad speaking to her father over the phone. I was devastated. She had been hiding it from me."
/>
"She didn't want you to worry."
She nods.
"Yeah. I tell myself that too. I just – I just thought she could tell me anything." She clears her throat.
"So one day, when my dad and I was visiting her in the hospital, she told me to remove the bracelet from her wrist. And so I did. Then she said, 'put it around your wrist.' And I looked at her and shook my head and asked her, ' why do you want me to put on your bracelet?' And she said, 'because I want you to remember me when I go. I want you to have it.'"
Essence gulps and her eyes begin to gloss. I slow down the car and begin to pull over. I stop the car and put it in park keeping the car running. The rain continues to pour.
"I told her, 'No. You're going to get through this. You're strong. You're beautiful. You're going to fall in love and have a big family with a handsome husband.' She just looked at me and started shaking her head and I can see—I can see tears rolling down the sides of her face."
"Essence if you don't want to--"
"She said, 'no. I'm tired. I'm so tired. Keep the bracelet and promise me, promise me you will never forget about me.' I looked at her and said, 'Claire, you have to keep fighting' and she said, 'promise me, Essence.' And so I did and put her bracelet around my wrist."
Tears begin to flow from her eyes. I reach across and bring her to my chest and hold her.
"I found out later that day she had passed on," she sniffles. "Since then, my father and I have moved from place to place. Buffalo. Syracuse. Just us. My mother passed having me. The only kinds of memories I can create come from photo albums. It's always been just me and my dad."
"I had no idea, I mean I have always noticed you were to yourself and looked happy that way too. Never would have thought all of this happened."
"Yeah. Guess I'm just so used to losing people in my life it makes it difficult to make friends. No one could ever replace Claire. To this day, I have not taken off my bracelet.
We stare into each other eyes and warmth fills her face. I brush some of her red hair from her face and wander into her pupils. She breathes slowly and closes her eyes as I caress her face. She opens her eyes and looks at my lips. I look at hers and for a moment, I feel my heartbeat. I gulp and look at her pink lips then back into her eyes. I begin to slowly lean closer. She exhales and lowers her head.
"I'm sorry," she says. "It's not that I don't like you, it's just--"
"Too soon," I say nodding. "I understand."
She nods.
"Yeah."
"Hey," I lift her face by her chin. She looks into my eyes.
"No sad faces remember?" I say shaking my head with a smile.
She nods and exhales deeply.
"Right," she says in a whisper. "No sad faces."
Chapter Twelve: Sharing
We pull into my driveway and I park the car. I hop out and open Essence's door. I could never get use to the smile she gives. Never in a million years or any of my dreams would I have thought she'd look my way. Never would I have thought being around her would feel so natural, so beautiful, so – mind-numbing. Who would have thought someone so perfect could have gone through what she has? She's lost her mother, her best friend, and only has her father to care for her. I now understand why she she's been to herself: She's afraid of losing people... And I'm afraid of losing her – if I have her.
We walk along the side of my house, heading to the back where the trees of the Mohawk River Valley stand. The wood and grass is damp, the clouds are gray, and the smell of rain fills the air. The leaves from the trees above sway in the gentle breeze and green furs of moss cover the rocks around us. I look over at Essence and see her smile, her face gazing up. For that, I am proud of myself. Making her smile again.
"This is home?" she says as we walk along a trail.
"Yes. Just my mother and I."
"Must be nice. To live so close to nature."
"I couldn't be more thankful," I say. "When I wake up, it's one of the first things I see. This rainforest."
I step over a small creek and hold out my hand. She smiles and takes it.
"It speaks to me," I say as she steps over to join me.
"Howso?"
"Well, it's hard to explain."
"I'm listening," she says as we continue.
"When I see the rainforest from my window, or even walk along these trails, I feel so free. Free from anxieties, stress—spilling paint," She laughs.
"But it just, makes me feel like I need to be here. When I'm not happy, I come here and almost immediately, I'm happy again."
I stop walking.
"Makes me feel like I actually belong somewhere. I never feel alone out here."
She stops and stares at me. I look into the trees above and inhale the air.
"Out here, this is really home."
She smiles and joins my side and looks up as well. Around us, small drops of rain smack onto the leaves.
"Ready?" I say.
"Where are we going?"
"Up."
I approach my tree, then hold out my hand.
"You make it difficult to say no."
My heart stops, and probably literally.
"I do?"
She giggles, doesn't accept my hand, but instead, hugs me. I smile and wrap my arms around her. When she lets go, I cry inside, but knowing we will be spending time together, is enough to make me smile again.
"Okay, you'll have to tell me what I'm doing or I might fall."
"Don't worry. I said I'd protect you and get you home safe."
"You promised actually," she laughs.
"Right, I promised," I smile.
I help her up, each prong that's embedded into the tree, pointing as I guide her. When we get to the vast trunk, I grab hold of her hand.
"Careful," I say. "It might be a little damp from the rain."
"Well aren't you quite a risk taker."
I smile.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"I would actually."
I rub my palms against the sides of my pants, and take a deep breath as I try to hold back my smile.
We get to the tree's torso where my umbrella is propped open above my duffle bag, which sits on a blanket.
"I'm letting go," I say, as much as I don't want to. "Will you be okay for second?"
She smiles.
"I'll be okay," she says. "I'm not going anywhere, Evan."
I nod and smile. I sure hope not.
I fix the umbrella and tap my hands along the blanket to feel for any wet spots. None.
"Sit with me?" I ask, as I take a seat against the tree.
Essence sits across from me, under the umbrella. She takes a deep breath, as she looks around the forest.
"Wow, I wish I had this in my backyard. Would never get old to me."
"I love it here," I say. "This is where I do all of my thinking, writing, contemplating."
Dreaming about you.
"I'm jealous."
"I have my good days and bad days up here."
"How could you possibly have a bad day after coming up here with all of this," she says, outstretching her hands and looking amongst the trees.
I shrug.
"Well, I haven't been feeling quite myself lately."
She crosses her legs.
"What do you mean?"
I think for a while, something I spend much of my time doing up here.
"I just—feel as though something's missing or, wrong."
A wrinkle forms between her eyebrows as she tilts her head.
"Why?"
"I don't know. It's like I live here, but I feel like I belong somewhere else."
"Like would you feel better in a different city?" she asks.
"Not exactly. I love Utica. These trees, the weather, the people. That pine and mint smell."
"I thought I was the only one," she says.
"It's great here. It's more so, as though I'm still figuring myself out. Like who I am and what makes me, ME. You know?"
&n
bsp; "I understand," she responds. "Aren't we all asking ourselves the same questions? Who we are and where we belong? I think one of the biggest mysteries in life lies within ourselves. What makes us, us? Our family? Friends? Experiences?"
"Exactly," I agree. "But-- there's something else too. About me. Something's different."
"In a bad way?"
I think for a moment and nod.
"Yeah. In a bad way."
"Should I worry?"
I shake my head.
"Does your mom know you've been feeling this way?" she asks.
"I haven't said anything about it. She tends to worry a lot."
"And your dad?"
"I don't know him nor remember much about him. Left when I was a child. Wish I could say I knew what he looked like, but we don't have any photos of him at all."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Evan."
I shake my head.
"Don't be."
I wouldn't be who I am today, but who am I? My father's son? A little fish in the big sea?
"If you are unsure of who you are," she says. "Think about the things you enjoy doing. What makes you happy? Why do they make you happy? And why do you continue to do them?"
"I like to write," I say.
Essence nods and smiles.
"Keep going. I'm listening."
"I like riding my bike to school. I like to read. Draw. Paint."
"And have yet to fail at that."
I scrunch my face, trying to keep myself from blushing. Fail. She giggles. I didn't think I was that well of an artist, but if it makes a difference in someone's life, that's an achievement. I always believed there was nothing about me that would interest anyone, especially a girl like Essence.
"Thank you," I say. "I didn't think you--"
"Noticed?"
There I go blushing again. She chuckles. I'm starting to think she gets a bit of a kick out of that.
"Nope. Not the slightest."
"I've paid attention more than you'd believe, Evan."
I turn my face away. Why is she doing this me.
"Your dreams," she says. I almost forgot she read them.
"Some of your dreams are beautiful and others, sad."
I flinch and play with my thumbs in my lap.
"Yeah. I have nightmares a lot. I don't understand most of them."
"The one about the little girl, Beebee, you dream about her often."
"Lately I've dreamed about her a lot."
"And what about the boy?"