Skipping Stones

by J. B. McGee

  I halt myself in my tracks, glancing over my shoulder at her. “Yes, Ma’am?”

  “You’re wearing that out?”

  I glance down. It’s summer. I have on cut off blue jeans and a white ribbed tank top. “Um. I had planned on it.”

  “Those shorts are so short. You need to go change. It’s one thing to wear those around the house, but not out,” she mutters disapprovingly.

  I sigh and look over to Papa. He gives me a hopeless shrug. “What’s the difference between me wearing these and a bathing suit?” I don’t want to be mean, but I’m frustrated. She’s holding me up, and causing me to waste time that I could be with the one person on this earth who doesn’t make me want to go jump off of a bridge. “In fact, I think they probably cover more than my bikini.”

  “When you wear stuff like that, you’re just askin’ for trouble.”

  “No, I’m asking to stay cool in this hot, humid weather,” I huff. “Besides, it’s not like I bought them myself. Mom bought them for me.”

  Papa speaks up, “Alex, don’t talk back to Memaw like that.”

  I hate being scolded, especially by him. It happens very rarely. “Yes, sir.”

  “Now go change those shorts into something a little less...revealing,” he demands.

  I hang my head. I don’t have the energy to fight with them. The truth is I don’t have a lot that is any better. It’s almost impossible to find shorts that are long enough for my tall, lean body. I pick out a pair of white dress shorts. They are still short but they at least look nicer.

  When I walk back through the living room, Memaw starts again, “Those are still short, but I guess they’re better.”

  I glance to Papa, almost begging him with my eyes to help me. We have a way of speaking without saying a word. “Awe, Elizabeth. Give her a break.”

  She glares at him, and he winks at me. I know that’s my chance to make my break. I’ve never really heard them fight before. Like ever. I suspect that when I’m out of their presence, they might have words, but maybe not. I scurry down the street hoping they won’t change their mind on letting me leave.

  I’m disappointed when I see the creek, and he’s not there. My chest goes from feeling like the bricks are stacked against it to empty, lost. I’m not sure what I should do. I glance at the big rocks we had sat on yesterday. The stirring at my core is intense. I don’t know how I’ve become so dependent on someone I barely know.

  I slow my pace now that there’s no incentive to get there any faster. Visions of my father and Papa swinging me down the street to the creek flash before my eyes. I visualize me unsuccessfully trying to skip stones with them. The lump in my throat is growing. I hear Dad’s laughter. There’s a sparkle in his eyes from the water as he watches me try with all my might to do what they do with those rocks. Pure amusement.

  He never complained about having a girl, and not a boy. He was completely content with just me. He was determined to teach me everything he would have taught a boy. He had always said he wanted me as independent as possible. Never depending on a boy. Ironic, since right now all I can think about is how I want to throw myself into that creek and sink to the bottom, letting the water replace the air in my lungs, and the two main people saving me are Papa and Drew – Drew – nearly a complete stranger. Both men. Completely dependent.

  Stranger, or not, he is hope. He’s hope for me that I may be able to find some resemblance of happiness in the future. He’s a ray of sunshine seeping in an empty otherwise black hole that sucks me in with each tear shed and every memory remembered.

  When I get to the rock, I ease onto it. I rest my head in my hands, releasing the stampede of despair as I’m overcome with emotion. I don’t even attempt to hold back the wails that are escaping me. I pull my knees to my chest, hugging them as I rock back and forth.

  I wonder what I can do to get this crying to go away. To make this pain stop. Is the answer to completely close my heart off, and allow no one in so that when they leave, I no longer ache? Is the solution to find something that hurts worse to help ease this hurt? Is there relief in pouring everything in me into something positive? What do I have that’s positive?

  I have nothing. I am nothing. I mean, I have my family, but my life as I otherwise knew is gone. Friends, home, plans for the future. I don’t know who I am anymore. These thoughts do nothing but make me mourn the losses I’ve experienced in an even more dramatic effect.

  When I finally lift my head and open my eyes, big brown ones captivate me. I don’t know how long he’s been sitting there. He doesn’t say a word; he just turns his head slightly to the side. He brushes away my tears before handing me a stone.

  My eyes never leave his as I drop it the rock between us. I realize in this moment, that the pain eases when he’s near me. So I decide to pour everything I have in me into him. I lean forward, biting my lip, hoping he’ll know that I am begging him to kiss me. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He leans back on his palms, distancing us.

  I sigh.

  As I’m about to look away, disappointed, he lunges forward and takes my head into his hands. Our lips crush together, and as his kiss consumes me, he breathes oxygen into my lungs. My heart starts to race. I feel alive. This is living.

  I inhale through my nose, breathing in this moment, fresh air. I don’t want it to end. The taste of mint, his soft smooth tongue, and the ability to completely submit to him brings a peace to me that I haven’t felt in days. In this moment, it is clear that he’s quickly becoming my medicine.

  I take his head in my hands, hoping to deepen our kiss. With each twirl of our tongues, it’s like we’re connecting in a deeper way. With each flick, a brick shatters on my chest. With each second that passes, I realize that as long as I’m in his arms, I might be able to survive this anguish.

  He slowly pulls back, rubbing my nose with his. “Don’t stop,” I beg, needing him, needing more.

  He reaches down and picks up the stone I dropped, and he hands it back to me. “How about we play a game?”

  “I’m not up for games.” I lean in closer. “I am up for more kissing.”

  He chuckles and tosses the stone in the air, only to catch it. “What if I told you there was more of that, too?”

  My eyes follow the stone up and then back again. The last time when he catches it, he brings it to the side of his face. I follow until I’m back to his amused, chocolate gaze. Everything about him is hypnotizing. I swallow. “I’d say that you’ve clearly got my attention.”

  He nods and gives me a playful wink. “Smart girl,” he says as he gets up from his rock and takes a couple steps closer to the creek.

  I shrug my shoulders, rolling my eyes, as I mimic his movements. I mutter, “I don’t think this has a thing to do with my brain.”

  He turns back, flashing a perfect smile. It’s one that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. The way the sunlight is bouncing off the water creates a glow around him. He’s my angel. I smile only able to think about the kiss. I need more of that. I need more of him and that kiss so I can forget that I’m an orphan. I need more of him so I don’t feel guilty for existing.

  “The game,” he whispers.

  I nod. Focus on him, Alex. Focus on the moment. “The game...”

  “I’m going to teach you to skip stones.”

  “That’s not a game,” I counter. “That’s a lesson –” He causes me to stutter as he moves in closer. “That’s...that’s...”

  He puts his finger over my lips. “A kiss for each time you do something right.” He tilts his head. “It’s your reward, your prize.” He moves his finger and takes my lips gently into his as he whispers, “It’s incentive.”

  My heart is pounding in my chest. I glance down and see the movement of my shirt. There is no better sign of living than the movement of a chest, the evidence of blood being pumped through the body. I’m alive when I’m with him, and I don’t feel like I’m dying.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” He grins. H
e drops the stone into the pocket of his swim trunks. Then he puts his hands on my hips like he did the last time and turns me. I hear the rustling of the fabric of his trunks. He picks up my arm, prying open my clenched fist, and positions it just right.

  I feel his head in the crook of my neck. “You want your pointer finger on the edge of the rock. Your thumb on the flat part on one side. The rest of your fingers like this.”

  I take a deep breath trying to focus, trying to commit this to memory. I want another kiss. I need to do this right. “Okay.”

  “You want to throw it so the flat side is parallel to the water at about a twenty degree angle.”

  I’m amazed. “There’s a science to this? Down to the angle, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Guess it’s a good thing I was excellent at Geometry, huh?” I turn and meet his eyes.

  “From what I’ve seen I hope your grades were better than your stone throwing.”

  “Hmph.” I pout. “Top of my class, I’ll have you know.”

  “Of course you are.” He smiles. “Plant your feet this time. Don’t let me move your body like last time.” He laughs. “You almost knocked me out.”

  I can’t help but let out a small giggle. I nod. “Uh huh. See, last time I turned three hundred sixty degrees. This time, turn zero degrees?” I shake my head. “See if we make this into math...schoolwork...I’ll ace it.”

  He is definitely amused. “We’re about to find out.”

  “Yeah...how many kisses you have.”

  “Ha. The rest is in the flick of your wrist. Almost like throwing a frisbee. Can you do that?”

  I roll my eyes and cock my head to the side. “You’re serious?”

  “Sure.”

  I push my behind back to nudge him. “Of course I can throw a freakin’ frisbee.”

  He grunts. “Don’t be doin’ all that.” Then he clears his throat. “I’ll just have to reposition you.”

  “Right.” Yeah right. Reposition me. “That would be a travesty.”

  “You ready?”

  “When you are.”

  He makes sure my arm, wrist, and fingers are all in the right places. Then he whispers, “Trust me. I have a mutual interest in seeing you succeed the first try.”

  When he does, that he makes my legs wobbly. He makes me forget what I’m doing. He makes me forget everything. “You keep doing that and I’m never going to be able to do it.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Whispering stuff like that to me.”

  “Well, then by all means.” He puts his hands up and backs away. “Give it your best shot. Forget I’m here.”

  I nod, close my eyes, and say a silent prayer begging God to help me ace this test. I need the distraction. When I let this stone fly out of my fingers, I need to be able to release some of this aching. I need this: him and skipping stones, to be my therapy. When I open them, I study the water for a moment. It’s calm, peaceful, and serene. I start to move my arm, feet planted firmly into the ground. I watch as my rock skims across the water, leaving three splashes in its wake.

  I let the momentum of my arm twirl my body back around. My feet leave the ground as I start to jump up and down. Except he catches me mid air.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, “I think you owe me.”

  “I wonder if it was just a fluke?”

  I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. You owe me.”

  He starts to walk me down the shore a little bit. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To a special place.”

  “What if –”

  “What if what?”

  “What if someone tries to find me?”

  “That’s the point, Alex. I don’t want us to get busted again in a compromising position.” He puts me down and takes my hand into his. Then he points. “Watch out for that poison oak right there.” I jump, which causes him to laugh. “You do stuff like that and you’re sure to land in it.”

  A few seconds later we’re in a small open field. I turn myself around, taking in the beauty of this place. “All these years, and I never knew this existed.”

  He wraps his arms around my waist. “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “Maybe it was meant to be our special place.”

  I smile. “Maybe.” I wonder if my dad knew about this place, if he brought my mom here. As the feeling of bricks resumes its familiar place, I beg, “Kiss me. Take me away. Take me somewhere else –”

  He pulls me closer to his body, squeezing me so tight that I can’t breathe. I close my eyes, partially waiting, and partially forbidding the tears to escape. He lifts my chin, bringing my lips to his.

  I’m not sure how much time has passed. We’ve been talking, skipping stones, and kissing. Blissful kissing. I’m not sure he had any idea of what he’d gotten himself into when he came up with his cute little game. Or maybe he did?

  At any rate, I’ve found myself wishing the time wouldn’t come to an end. It’s that feeling the last night of a vacation. The bittersweet realization that time is almost up, but despite that, doing everything to fully enjoy the time left without spoiling it because of said realization.

  There’s one last stone in our pile. I glance down at it. “Want it?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  I glance into his brown eyes. “Ya want me to do this one?”

  “Yup.”

  “What if I mess this one up?” I reach down and pick it up. “Like the whole bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, full count, two outs...”

  Drew smiles. “I guess we’re about to find out how you do under pressure.”

  I don’t care about the stone. I don’t care if I can skip it, or not. I just want to kiss him again. “You made the game up...”

  “I did,” he quips proudly.

  “Then you can change the rules.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “No matter what, I get another kiss. Either way it’s a prize.” I shrug.

  “Ha. A prize either way. What’s your reasoning?” He chuckles.

  “Either the prize for winning...skipping a stone, or a consolation prize for choking.”

  “Deal.” He moves back and plops into the overgrown weeds. I’d call it grass, but I’m not sure I see any blades of grass. It’s mainly clover, wild onions, and dandelions. “How about if I give you a bigger kiss if you do it? That way you still have some incentive to do your best.”

  I glance back over my shoulder. “Deal.”

  I replay the instructions he gave me earlier. I turn so that my side is facing the water. I put the stone just right in my fingers. I look back to him, holding my hand out. “Like this?”

  When I look back, I freeze because it’s not Drew sitting in the field. It’s my father. So I stand still as if freezing and not moving will make this real. It has to be a figment of my imagination. Our eyes are locked and he smiles as he gives me a thumbs up.

  I feel a tear trickle down my face. I’m paralyzed, unable to move. My body is trembling. He gets up and moves closer towards me. “Daddy?” I whisper.

  “Alex?”

  “Daddy!” I exclaim and run into his arms.

  “Alex, it’s Drew.”

  I push back. No. I saw him. He was as vivid as ever. He said my name. It was his voice. Not Drew. I look up into familiar, chocolate eyes. I see Drew. “No. I saw him.”

  “I believe you.”

  “I saw him,” I sob. “I know it was him.”

  He rubs my back. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  My wails are muffled by his chest. He pulls us down to the ground. “Let it out, Alex. Just let it out.” He positions me onto his lap, cradling me like a baby.

  I cry, and cry, and cry until there are no tears left. The cries are replaced with whimpers. My throat is dry. My face is chapped from all the rubbing over the past few days. It literally hurts to have my swollen eyes open. Yet, when I close them all I see are unpleasant, frightening
images of the nightmare that has become my reality.

  Drew never says a word. He just rocks us back and forth, caresses my hair, rubs my back the way I like. Finally, he picks one of the yellow flowers and puts it in my hair. He whispers, “I know you probably feel like there’s no color left in this world. Like there’s no light, instead all darkness. But there’s sunshine. There are colorful flowers all around us.” He swallows. Where’s he going with this? “And for me, you’re the only thing...the only one I see. The only one I’ve seen in a long time.” He touches my nose with the pad of his finger. “I know it’s hard to imagine, but one day you’ll see the colors again.”

  That has to be one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me. I think for a moment that I could love him, but my realistic side reminds me that I just saw my dead father and my heart aches. “Thank you.”

  He kisses my head.

  “I wonder if my dad ever brought my mom here?” The words are out before I have a moment to filter or hold them back. I don’t know what I expect him to say in response to this. It’s not like he knew them or would know the answer. I just realized that I need to talk about them. And for the first time since the accident, I feel like I can...with him. “I think that’s why I thought you were him.”

  “I’ve heard it’s normal for you to see people like that. You know, people you’ve lost that you love.”

  I swallow. “He used to take me to the creek with Papa. No matter how horribly I threw the stone, he’d always give me a thumbs up and a smile.”

  “I gave you a thumbs up.” He brushes the tear from my cheek. “And it’s hard for me to do anything other than smile when I’m around you.”

  This helps. The long lost smile emerges. “You’re smooth.”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “It’s just the truth. I just wish I could do something to help you.”

  “You are helping me.” I look into his eyes. “More than you could ever possibly know. Talking to you.” I take a deep breath. “Talking to you about them just now. It’s the first time I’ve been able to do that. It actually felt good.”

  He nods. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. My dad would probably have thanked you for finally teaching me how to skip stones.” Laughter has been rare for me, except when I’m with Drew. A small chuckle escapes. “I’m pretty sure he would have had his shotgun ready had he known how you did it.”