The Girl and the Grove

by Eric Smith

  “Ugh, that’s just a tourist trap,” Jon mumbled.

  “And,” Leila interjected, “we’re getting a tour of the park from some of the rangers there, and doing some community service around the gardens and pond. You can’t really just do that any time you like.” Leila stopped. “Okay, well maybe you can just do that at any time, but come on. Sarika is going, and the rest of the B.E.A.C. crew. You guys told me to make friends. I’m not about to let some stupid bike accident halt my life.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know, I’m inclined to agree with your fa—Jon,” Lisabeth said with a wince, quickly correcting herself. She took a long sip of her coffee, the silence awkward, the slip of Lisabeth’s word hanging in the air.

  “So, how bad is it?” Jon asked, interrupting the quiet.

  Leila shrugged.

  “It hurts, and I can’t like, yell or move too quick, but this afternoon is literally a walk in the park. And my bike is still getting repaired. I can just like, walk there with Sarika. Or take the bus. Or you guys can drive me. There are so many options that don’t end in me staying home with Netflix.”

  “There aren’t any, like, obstacle courses or anything?” Jon asked. Leila laughed as Lisabeth gave Jon a look. “What? It’s a field trip to a park. It’s a valid question. There might be monkey bars or those awkward summer camp ice breakers.”

  “This isn’t one of those bonding retreats or something, Jon,” Lisabeth said, shaking her head. “No trust falls or anything. Right, darling?”

  “Right,” Leila said, a swell of hope in her chest. “Just walking around, taking pictures, learning about trees and koi and what-not.”

  “Hah! Learning about trees,” Lisabeth jeered. “Like they can teach you anything you don’t already know. Okay, you can go—”

  “Hey!” Jon protested.

  “But make sure you check in with us every hour or so,” Lisabeth said. “Just a text or something, alright? Keep us from worrying?”

  “I think I can manage that,” Leila smiled.

  “Fine, fine.” Jon grumbled. “But no more falls like that, please.”

  “Deal.”

  “And you have to tell us how that date went!” Lisabeth exclaimed, clasping her hands together, her eyes brightening. “Oh, you should have heard that boy in the waiting room in the hospital. He sat with us the whole time and asked a ton of questions, didn’t he, Jon?”

  “He did, he did,” Jon said, nodding. “Seemed decent enough.”

  “Yeah, well,” Leila started, feeling a bit surprised. She had no idea he’d come to the hospital and waited around for her. Where was he when she got out? “Don’t be tricked into thinking he was some hero or something, you guys. He hasn’t texted or anything since I got home. And I was riding my bike away from him when the whole thing happened. It’s not technically his fault, but, well, you know. I was trying to get away.”

  “Get away?” Lisabeth asked with a glance towards Jon, her eyes awash in concern. “Why? What was he doing? What did he do?”

  Jon stood up.

  “Is it shotgun time?” he asked.

  “No, he—” Leila started

  “I have been waiting for this moment all my life.”

  “Oh my God, Liz, please get him to stop.”

  “Jon, please,” Lisabeth said. “So what happened, exactly?”

  “He just . . .” Leila paused. “He’s a bit tactless, is all. Asked some too-personal questions too soon, brought up,” she gestured awkwardly at everyone at the table, “you know, this stuff. And he asked if I’d ever thought about using makeup to cover up.”

  Jon stood back up.

  “So. It is time,” he said resolutely.

  “Jon, I swear—”

  “Sit down,” Lisabeth said sternly. Jon dropped back into his seat like a scolded kid as Lisabeth turned and looked at Leila, her eyes intense. “You told that boy to go fuck himself, yes?”

  “Liz!” Leila exclaimed with a laugh, and then winced, placing a hand on her head. Jon chuckled.

  “Oh, darling.” Lisabeth reached out and ran her hand gently over Leila’s forehead, then palmed her cheek. “How bad is it really?”

  “I’ll be fine, it’ll be fine,” Leila said, pulling away from Liz’s touch. “Really, don’t worry about me. We’ll just be walking, and I promise, if I start to feel sick or woozy, I’ll come right home.”

  “You call us,” Lisabeth said. “We’ll come get you. And Leila, that, um, that looks good on you.”

  “Hm?” Leila looked at Jon and back to Liz. “What does?”

  “The scarf.” Liz nodded at Leila. “That’s one of mine.” She smiled, her face full of warmth. Heat rushed to Leila’s cheeks, and she moved to unwrap it. “No, no. Please keep it. Wear it. What’s mine is yours, you know.”

  “Okay,” Leila said, nodding softly, testing herself to see if she felt anything. The warmth of Liz’s hand against her cheek flitted across her memory, and Liz smiled at her from across the table.

  _____

  Leila surveyed the parking lot as Jon and Lisabeth drove away. Their electric car barely made a soft hum over the rumble of its tires over the loose rocks.

  A handful of students from B.E.A.C. milled about, a few talking excitedly while others fiddled with their smartphones, snapping photos of one another or the surrounding trees. Some just stared at the screens, fingers making quick work of whatever was glowing back at them. So Leila pulled out her own phone, checking for texts from Sarika or anything from her on social media. There was just a quick text from Sarika saying she was running late, but nothing from Shawn. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him.

  “You guys see Shawn?” Leila asked two B.E.A.C. members that had been chatting with one another: a girl with bright auburn hair and fierce green eyes, and a slightly shorter Filipino guy with really long, thick, black hair. She recognized them. They’d been in that first meeting, cheering on Shawn as he spoke. They turned to her and both shrugged.

  “Haven’t seen him yet,” the guy said. “You’re that new girl, right? Leila? Always hanging out with that cute Indian chick? What’s her deal? Also, her name?”

  “Mikey,” the girl said, nudging him. “Maybe get to know her first before trying to hit on all her friends? Sorry. He’s just all girls, all the time. I’m Britt.” She held out her hand, smiling with shockingly white teeth. Leila shook her hand and grinned. “You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting this one.” Britt nudged him again, a little too hard this time, and he stumbled a little.

  “Hey,” Mikey said, laughing. He reached out and shook Leila’s hand. “Normally I’m a hugger, but we did just run all the way here.”

  “You ran here?” Leila asked, curious and at the same time relieved he didn’t lean in for a hug, due to the fact that she didn’t know the guy and he was absolutely dripping with sweat. What was it with every new guy she met at this enrichment thing being positively drenched? “From where?”

  “Well, my family lives down in South Philly, about,” he drew out the “about” as he turned and looked towards the road leading away from the parking lot. “Oh, maybe five miles or so? Probably a little more, maybe a little less. I don’t know, I don’t really keep track of—”

  “You’re full of it,” Britt snapped. She turned to Leila. “He has an app on his phone that tracks how far he walks, never mind how far he runs.”

  “One, stop hurling me under the bus. Two, you don’t get calves like these by sitting around all day.” He struck a pose and bent down a little, flexing the muscles in his legs. “Boom!”

  “And what about you?” Leila asked Britt, laughing at Mikey’s antics.

  “Not nearly as far as this one,” she said. “My house isn’t too far from the Art Museum. You’re new to town, right? Have you been there yet? You should run up the stairs. It’s like, tradition.”

  “Ha!”
Leila shouted. “Yeah, no, I’ve done that. Bad date.”

  “Say no more,” Mikey said. “We’ve all been there.”

  “Sure you have,” Britt grinned.

  Leila smiled as the two of them bickered with one another. They reminded her of the way she and Sarika always jokingly went at it, playfully mocking each other the way only the truest of friends can. She wondered what their history was like, how long they’d been friends, what they’d seen together. She and Sarika, they’d been through more than most.

  “I wonder where Shawn is?” Britt said to no one in particular, surveying the still-milling crowd of students. “He should have been here, like, hours ago. That guy is always insanely punctual.”

  “I half expected him to be waiting in the parking lot, composting the remainder of his breakfast and making us feel guilty,” Mikey said, and then waved his hands about in an exaggerated fashion. “I’m Shawn. Oh no, you guys, don’t sneeze, you’ll murder innocent bacteria floating in the air.”

  Britt nudged Mikey again, and Leila laughed.

  “I guess we can take the tour without him, right?” Leila didn’t so much as ask as she suggested. Leaving him behind would be great. She wasn’t eager to have any conversations with him, about the date or anything else. His offensive conversation, his prying questions, the bicycle accident, his lack of follow through. Not even a text, ugh. Her head hurt just thinking about all of it, never mind the concussion.

  “I’m down,” Mikey said, almost a little too quickly. Leila gave him a look, and he shrugged. “I’d just maybe like to enjoy the outdoors, hang out with my friends, new and old.” He grinned at Leila and she rolled her eyes. “And maybe not be made to feel so terrible about being a human being.”

  Leila laughed with Mikey and Britt until Mikey’s eyes widened, and he nodded over her shoulder.

  “Incoming,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Looks like he’s back taking the chariot.”

  “The what?” Leila asked, turning around. A dark-black SUV with tinted windows and thick, oversized tires pulled up into the dirt parking lot, pushing up clouds of dust in its wake. A couple of students coughed as the truck braked near them and a plume of dirt washed over everyone. Leila rubbed her eyes and glared.

  The passenger-side door opened, and out popped Shawn, his weathered backpack slung over his shoulder, his usual sunny disposition turned way down. He walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side door, and stood up on his tip-toes as the window lowered.

  “Later, babe,” Jessica said, leaning out the window.

  “Later,” Shawn said, pushing himself up on his toes a little bit more to kiss her quickly on the mouth, a sharp peck.

  The SUV backed up, kicking up more dirt, as Shawn walked towards everyone. Leila stared at him, and when his eyes met with hers, he quickly turned away.

  “Sorry I’m late, all,” Shawn said, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder. “Dad had some things going on down at the office, and I, um,” he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m here.” He turned and watched the SUV as it sped out of the parking lot. A couple of half-hearted grumbles rose up from the students as he turned back and walked towards Leila, Mikey, and Britt.

  “Hey,” he said, as Britt and Mikey stepped away. Leila caught the two of them looking at each other with curious glances, and Leila knew she was already busted. They could clearly tell something had happened, even if nothing really had.

  “Hey,” she said back, shrugging.

  “Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I wasn’t thinking before I spoke. I do that a lot. Sometimes I really only hear myself, you know?”

  “I guess?” Leila ventured. She didn’t know. She didn’t do that. “Were you thinking before you went out with me, when all that was clearly going on?” Leila nodded at the dust cloud that still hovered around the parking lot.

  Shawn’s face turned red.

  “It’s more complicated than . . . You know what, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I’ll give you your space,” Shawn said, lifting up his hands. “But if you want to talk, maybe hang out again sometime, I’d like that. I’d, you know, like to do better, if that makes sense. Be friends?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Leila said. “I’m not promising anything. That was an unpleasant way to spend an afternoon. At least the end of it and all. Especially the whole leaving-me-alone-at-the-hospital thing.”

  “Oh God, Leila, it’s . . . I didn’t want to bail, but . . . I was there for a while. Did your mom tell you? I was—”

  “Yeah, she did. I shouldn’t have expected you to stay the whole time but—”

  “I wanted to!” Shawn said, looking frustrated. “I’ll explain one of these days. Is your head okay?” Shawn asked, looking up at her forehead. His face was awash in disappointment, his mouth a thin line, like he was holding something back.

  “It’s fine. Are you still worried about how my face looks?” she snapped back.

  Shawn completely deflated. “Okay. I’ll go get things ready, but if you start to feel like, I don’t know, dizzy or anything, let me know.”

  “Sure, Shawn,” Leila said, eager for this conversation to be over.

  Shawn sighed, and walked away towards the other B.E.A.C. students. He started to do his smile-point-click thing to a few of them as he made his way to the front of the group.

  “Wow, that is annoying,” Mikey muttered, walking back up to Leila with Britt.

  “Yeah,” Leila said. “Yeah it is.”

  “So, the two of you?” Mikey started, making some entirely inappropriate hand gestures.

  “Mikey!” Britt shouted, slapping him upside the head.

  “Ow!” he said through the laughter.

  Leila smiled, fighting the urge to scowl.

  “No. We just went on a sorta-date the other day.” Leila shrugged. “Not a good one.” She pointed at her forehead and lifted her scarf up a little, revealing the bandage. Britt gasped. “I fell off my bike. It was bad. And now here he is with that other girl.” She shrugged.

  “Death to men,” Britt said, crossing her arms. “Except you, pal.” She punched Mikey in the shoulder. “You can stay.”

  Leila smiled. She liked these two.

  “Hey everyone!” Shawn exclaimed, a bit of disappointment still lingering in his voice. “We’re going to meet our tour guide over at the Japanese tea house, and then we’ll take a stroll of the grounds, maybe explore some of the area before we get to work fixing—”

  “Are you guys my group for the day?”

  A young man sidestepped out of the woods, down one of the trails, right up behind Shawn, and patted him on the shoulder. He stood a few inches taller than him, and wore a uniform consisting of dark-green pants and a beige dress shirt, topped with a brown, thick-brimmed hat. A black belt wrapped around his waist with a number of things tucked away inside, notably a container that looked a lot like mace and a ridiculously long, black flashlight which swung about as he walked. Looking at him in profile, Leila noticed his meticulously kept beard, which was cut in strong, almost impossibly straight lines. Shawn spun around, and the man stuck out a hand.

  “Landon Johnson,” he said as he shook Shawn’s hand vigorously. He let go and slapped Shawn on the back, and Shawn took a few steps away. For a moment, Leila felt a little bad for him, losing the spotlight he seemed so fond of. She shook it off.

  Landon turned to look at everyone, and Leila gasped as he faced the group. The pounding in her head suddenly matched the thundering of her heart.

  “I’m your guide for the day,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

  On his shoulder.

  “I’m a park ranger here in Fairmount Park, or, at least a soon-to-be ranger,” he continued.

  The owl.

  “I’m still in training and all.” He shrugged.

  The owl from yesterday’s bike ride. It jostl
ed about with Landon’s casual shrug, and Landon lifted his hand up to scratch the bird under its chin. It was the same one. It had to be. The one she saw after racing away from Shawn and his idiotic, heartless comments. The one that made her crash her bicycle. It was here. Staring at her with its bright-yellow eyes.

  The bird swayed with the young park ranger as he talked to the group, cocking its head to the side as it looked at Leila. Its gaze quickly darted about from person to person, and then up to nothing in particular.

  “Is there a problem?” Landon asked, looking to Leila. He squinted at her for a moment and her heart raced. Did he recognize her from the other day? She felt a wave of awkwardness wash over her. That whole ordeal had been so embarrassing.

  “No,” Leila said, and then, as if a bolt of realization hit him, Landon laughed.

  “You must be curious about this guy.” He lifted his arm, which was wrapped up in some fraying leather, and the small owl hopped onto it, flapping one large wing. The other was just a small nub. Leila exhaled. Maybe he really didn’t realize who she was. Maybe she’d be spared the awkward conversation.

  “This here is Milford.” He gave the owl a small scratch under its chin with his free hand, and it closed its eyes, clearly enjoying it.

  “What’s, uh, what’s up with his wing there?” Mikey asked.

  “Well, Milford was found here in Fairmount Park as a fledgling, and his wing was broken and deformed.” He kept scratching the little owl, the bird’s head pushing back even farther, lost in joy, as though he might fall off Landon’s arm at any moment. “It was starting to grow at an odd angle as he grew older, and they had to remove it to save him. Because of this, he’s not releasable into the wild.”

  He stopped scratching the owl, and Milford’s head shot forward, eyes darting about as if trying to figure out why the scratching had stopped.