by A. E. Davis
“Not quite.” He shook his head.
“How many have you read?”
“I’m not sure, maybe half.”
“And here I thought I was a crazy book reader. You put me to shame.”
“Not really. I just have a lot to choose from and it rains a lot, so I stay inside.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s true enough.” I looked up at the mural. “Who painted this?” I looked back at him.
He quirked his brow at me.
“Shut up!” I pushed him. “You didn’t do this...did you?” Even though it seemed impossible, I suddenly wasn’t so sure.
His lips lifted. “Nah. I can’t take the credit. Besides I’m not the painter, Vincent is.”
“Vincent paints?”
“Yeah, that’s his guilty pleasure.”
“What’s yours?”
“You haven’t guessed.” He swept his hand out to indicate the room full of books.
“Mine too.” I smiled up at him feeling a shared kinship to him. “So who did paint this?”
“Not sure. It was brought over on ships from my homeland.”
I did a double take. “You’re not from here originally?”
“I am but my ancestors weren’t. When they fled they took a lot of the stuff with them that you have seen in my house today, this included.”
“Why were they fleeing?”
He shrugged. “Religious persecution, maybe…I never really asked.”
“How did they get this here? It’s so big.”
“From what I’ve been told, they moved it in pieces.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Tell me about it.” He lifted his hand and pointed upward. “Each piece weighs about five hundred pounds.”
“Holy Cow!”
“I know. Pretty amazing, huh?”
“I’ll say.” I stared up at the mural. There were cherubs and women scantily clad with beasts surrounding the hems of their gowns, with hoofed feet and horns. “What are those?”
He was quiet for so long, I wasn’t sure he heard me. I looked over at him and expected him to be looking up at the mural too, but he was instead looking at me, with the strangest expression on his face—one that I didn’t understand.
“It’s getting late.” He turned and walked briskly out of the room leaving me gawking after him.
thirty three
As he drove me back to my car we listened to music and chattered away about his family and mine—his was a lot more interesting. He never did ask me why I was in the water earlier and I didn’t ask him what he was doing there either. We already turned that page so to speak, which I was glad for. Besides, I didn’t want to talk about any of that stuff now. Not when I was having so much fun.
Pulling his hoodie around me tighter, I snuggled deeper into it, loving that it smelled just like Viktor. “Thanks for the sweatshirt.”
“Not a problem.”
“I’ll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow at school.”
“Don’t worry about it tonight. It’s late. I can always get it another time.”
I wasn’t going to argue because I kind-of didn’t want to give it back—at least not anytime soon. “I had a really good time,” I said with meaning.
“Me too.” He glanced over at me.
“Thanks again for sharing your history with me, and your amazing house.”
His lips pulled up at the corners. “Anytime.”
“Really?” I blurted and then felt like a pushy idiot.
He laughed. “Sure. I still have to teach you how to play guitar.”
“I already told you,” I sighed. “I’m not musically inclined.”
“You know,” he said. “I read a book once that said how to be great at anything and it had one word in it.”
“Yeah, I remember,” I laughed. “Practice.” I smiled at him warmly.
“That’s all you need to do.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“We’ll see.”
He pulled past the “No Vampires Allowed” sign entering La Push and punched the gas. We sped down the bumpy road towards the beach so fast the scenery blurred before my eyes. I grabbed hold of the “Oh Crap” handle to stop from smacking my head on the ceiling. “Why are you driving so fast?”
“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.” He continued driving like a crazy racecar driver and within moments he swung into the parking lot. Stomping on the brakes, the truck skidded to an abrupt halt beside my car.
I released the handle. “Thanks, again,” I said. Taking my time getting out, I gathered my wet clothes together. I didn’t want to leave yet. I was having such a good time.
He revved his engine, glancing out his side mirror.
“You better hurry,” he said. “You’ll be late.” He tapped on his steering wheel impatiently.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to stall. “A minute or an hour late won’t make any difference to my mom. To her, I will still be late, regardless.”
“See you.” He put his truck in gear, acting like he didn’t even hear me.
“Oh, okay.” My stomach dropped. “See you.” I opened the door and climbed out with my bundled clothes in my hands. Standing at the door, I glanced back inside the truck. He was still staring out his side view mirror, his jaw working like he was mad or something. I didn’t get it. “Bye.”
“Yeah, bye.” He didn’t even look at me.
I slammed his truck door a little harder than I probably should have but I didn’t get what happened. One moment we were laughing and talking and then….
I climbed in my car and barely got the door shut before he took off. His tires spun, kicking gravel in the air as he sped out of the lot. “Where’s the freaking fire?”
“Amber,” Mom screeched as soon as I walked in the door.
“Sorry Mom.” I tried to head her off at the pass. She took one look at me and crossed her arms, tapping her foot. “Where have you been?”
I was going to lie to her but I suddenly didn’t have the energy to make up a story. “I was with Viktor.”
Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. “The Viktor?”
“Yep.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well,” she exhaled and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me.
Stupid tears stung my eyes.
She pulled back and looked at me. “Oh, honey. Is it that bad?”
I shook my head no.
“Well, I guess I can wait to yell at you, but right now…” She grabbed my hand and led me over to the sofa. “Sit down and tell me everything.” She patted the cushion.
I ended up telling her just about everything, even the part where I skipped out on school. However, I didn’t tell her about being chased and jumping into the ocean or that Viktor saved me. I figured that was one of those ‘need to know’ things, and as far as I was concerned she didn’t need to know, that.
“Did he kiss you again?”
“No. It wasn’t like that. We just talked about stuff. It was really great actually. That’s why I’m so late.” I gave her a sheepish look, feeling bad for making her worry. “Am I in trouble?”
“I should ground you but…” She sighed. “I won’t, this time.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She took my hands in hers. “If it happens again, not that it should,” she amended, “but if it does, just call me and let me know, okay?”
“I did call...earlier.”
“Yes, but you said you would be right home.”
“Yes, I know. But what if…” She was giving me her staple hairy eyeball look. “I promise I will call,” I said.
She squeezed my hands. “Does he really have a library with that many books or were you just saying that?”
“Oh, he does,” I gushed, getting excited thinking about it again. “It’s magnificent. You should see the mural Mom. It’s like something out of a period movie.”
“Did you meet his parents?”
“Ah�
�no.”
“They were there, though, right?”
“Oh, sure,” I lied. “I think they were in the other wing.”
Her eyes widened. “How big is the house?”
“Pretty dang big. I’m not kidding when I say it could be in one of those old timey movie’s you like to watch. It’s very daunting but really cool too. I wish you could see it. You would freak.”
“Well, maybe…”
“No way, Mom.”
“Oh, fine,” she said and smiled.
“Where’s Ken? I thought he was cooking dinner tonight?”
She made a face. “He had to work.”
“Everything is still good with you two, right?”
“Yes. He’s coming over later, after he finishes up with some paperwork.”
“Oh, good,” I said, relieved.
Right then the house phone rang.
“Who could that be at this hour?” Mom looked worriedly towards the phone in the kitchen.
“Do you think it’s Ken?”
“No. He always calls me on my cell.”
The phone continued to ring. I jumped from the sofa and ran to answer it. I got there on the fifth ring. “Hello?” I said breathlessly.
“Amber?”
“Yeah. Who’s this?” I thought it was one of those telemarketers.
“Thank God you’re all right. I’ve been looking for you and …”
Right then it dawned on me who was on the other end of the phone. I squeezed the receiver tighter and turned so Mom couldn’t see my face. “Lucky?” I whispered.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“How did you get my number?”
“It wasn’t easy. I had to call your credit card company and …”
“You what?”
“What else was I to do? You just left and …”
“Hey, you left me first.” I didn’t know why I was saying that.
“Not because I wanted to.”
“Then why did you?”
“I …”
“I looked for you in the woods,” I cut in before he could answer.
“I told you not to,” his voice rose.
“I was worried about you.”
“Join the club,” his voice lowered considerably.
I felt like an insensitive “b.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I had to go.”
“Where did you go? Your car was still here.”
“I was with a friend.”
“What friend might that be?” his voice took on a hard edge.
“Listen, it’s late and I can’t talk now.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both, neither,” I flustered, not sure what to say.
“Oh, I get it.”
Mom walked in the kitchen. “Who is it?”
“Hold on.” I lowered the phone and pressed it against my chest. “It’s Glinda,” I whispered.
“Boy trouble?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to bed.” She leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Don’t stay up too late. You have school tomorrow.”
“I won’t.”
“Night.”
“Night, Mom.” Once she was safely out of earshot, I put the phone back to my ear. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” he sighed.
“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Yeah, so you said.” He sounded pissed. Guilt gnawed deep in my belly.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” I asked trying to pacify my own guilt.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to…” I took a breath, “not to be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“Well, I’m not mad at you either,” I said.
“Why would you be mad at me?”
“Because you left me,” my voice rose, “and because when I went to look for you something came after me and ….” My voice broke as everything came rushing back.
“Amber…”
“What?” I sniffed, wiping the rush of tears that wet my eyes with my sleeve.
“What did you see?” his voice was low…insistent.
“Nothing. I was too busy running for my life.”
The phone crackled. “Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic?” His tone completely changed.
I pulled the phone away from my head and looked at it half expecting it to sprout wings. My temper flared. I shoved the phone back to my ear. “No. I am not being melodramatic,” I snapped.
“If you didn’t see anything…then maybe you were imagining…”
“I didn’t need to,” I nearly yelled, cutting him off again. “I heard it.”
“What did you hear?”
“Something big, and scary,” I answered honestly.
“What happened to it?”
“I don’t know. I jumped in the ocean to get away from it and nearly drowned.”
“You what?” This time he sounded worried but it was too late, the damage had been done.
“I’m not repeating myself. I already told you.” I was getting riled again.
“Are you okay?”
“Obviously,” I snapped. “I’m talking to you aren’t I?”
“I did tell you not to go in the woods.”
“Are you kidding me?” I squeezed the phone tighter. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me why you didn’t want me to go in the woods?”
“Because…that’s where they…” The phone crackled again. I wasn’t sure if it was the connection or if he was covering it up.
“Lucky?”
“I gotta go.” The line went dead.
As I got ready for bed, I tried not to let my conversation with Lucky dampen my good mood from being with Viktor. But something niggled in the back of my mind, that I was missing something …something big, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was.
Walking over to my chair, I grabbed up Viktor’s hoodie and put it back on. It was warm and smelled just like him. Crawling into bed, I snuggled down under my comforter and within minutes, I was sound asleep.
thirty four
When I woke the following morning, I felt rested and warm for once. I could still smell Viktor on his hoodie and even though I didn’t want to take it off, I made myself. After making my bed, I gingerly folded up his jacket and set it on my bed next to ‘E’ the Teddy Bear Ken had given me and then went to get ready for school.
An hour later, I was down in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. Grabbing a breakfast bar, some pretzels, and a bottle of water, I set them on the table and made a quick cup of coffee.
Footsteps thumped down the stairs and I quickly grabbed another cup to pour one for Mom, too.
“Good morning.”
Startled by the voice, I jerked my hand and hot coffee splashed over my fingers. “Shoot!” I dropped the cup back on the counter, shaking my scalded hand.
“Here let me.” Ken rushed forward, grabbed hold of my arm, and pulled me to the sink. Turning the cold water on full blast, he shoved my hand underneath. “Do you have some Aloe Vera?”
“I think there’s some in the cupboard under the sink.”
Ken reached down, opened the door, and pulled out the Aloe Vera. There was a distinct odor clinging to him, like freshly turned dirt that reminded me of when the fields were plowed back home. I looked down, thinking it must be on his shoes, but he wasn’t wearing any.
“Here give me your hand.” He rubbed a huge glob of Aloe Vera on my hand and spread it over my fingers that were already a bright red color.
“That should pull the burn out in a minute or two.”
“Thanks, Ken.” I pulled my hand back.
“No problem.” Lifting a dishtowel, he wiped off his hand. There were bright red lines on his arm like scratches.
“What happened to your arm?”
“Oh.” He turned his hand ov
er. “I got in a fight with the copier at work.”
I laughed. “I guess the copier won.”
“No. I did.”
I looked up expecting him to be smiling but he wasn’t. Instead, he was looking out the window.
“Ken?”
“Yeah,” he said, distracted.
“Have you heard any more about the…”
He started shaking his head before I even finished. “Not yet, I’m afraid.”
“Oh.” I wiped up the coffee that had spilled off the counter and then lifted my coffee with my good hand.
“You got any plans this weekend?” It seemed his good-humor returned because he smiled at me.
“Um, Glinda said something about going to the pumpkin patch with some kids from school.” I took a sip of my coffee.
“Oh.” His smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared.
I immediately felt bad, but didn’t know what for. “Why?”
“Oh, I was just thinking it would be fun to take you and your Mom.” He lifted up his cup.
“Well, my plans weren’t definite.” Yes, they were but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I can still go with you both, if you like.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
“I was thinking we could make a day of it and take the hayride over to the field and pick out our own pumpkins. They have a maze too,” he added excitedly.
“Um…” Dangit. I was supposed to do that with Vincent. I chewed on my lip, trying to figure out how I could do both.
“It’s okay if you would rather go with your friends.”
“When did you want to go?”
“Sunday. It’s my day off,” he explained.
A wave of relief washed over me. “I can do Sunday.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.” Fine. It might not be that fun but he seemed really excited about it and I didn’t want to disappoint him since he had been so great to me about everything.
“We can even have a carving contest.”
“A carving contest?”
“Yeah,” he said smugly. “We’ll see who has the best pumpkin carving skills.” His lifted his brows, playing.
“Well, Ken, I hate to break it to you,” I said playing along. “But I have some mad carving skillz, myself.”