by Jolene Perry
The frustration of Amber mixes with the hurt of Mom, and it’s all pouring out from the thoughts of a little boy on the outskirts of Johannesburg.
Eleven
“Wait. We’re going where?” I ask.
“To the San Juan’s. Canada?” Dad’s eyes are wide. “It’s the trip we’ve been planning since you got here. We’ve just been waiting for good weather.”
“Oh. Guess I’ve been a little distracted.” How will things be different? Guess they really won’t be. We’ll still be on the boat, just not on the dock.
“So, they’ll ride with us?” I ask.
“Yeah, Lynn and Amber always ride along on my boat cause it’s bigger.”
“Right.” I smile. That’s a lot of time with Amber. “Two weeks?”
“More or less.” He shrugs. “Really, we live here, so for however long we want.”
“Uh…okay.” Right. The house moves. Kind of white trash in my mind, but also convenient.
- - -
Amber comes down the steps with a large backpack, her legs depressingly covered.
“Morning,” I say, a little curious as to where we stand after last night and the whole movie thing with Captain America.
She quickly takes the last two steps, her pack slung over a shoulder. “Morning.”
Her eyes don’t directly meet mine, and her mouth twitches a few times. I have no idea what she’s thinking, and it’s making me crazy. She doesn’t look happy, or sad. Just…
“How was your night?” I ask. What did you do after I left? Did he touch you? Did you want him to? Why am I such a mess over this?
“You disappeared.” Her eyes narrow. Anger? I’m still not sure.
“Yeah, it was a little too cozy in there for me.” I lean back and fold my arms. And I don’t like games.
“Crap.” She sits in a slump. “Okay. I’m about to take my mom’s advice, and this really sucks, okay?”
I chuckle at her poutiness. “Okay.”
“It’ll be easier if I don’t look at you.” She rests fingers on either temple, blocking her peripheral.
“I don’t like Kent that way. I just don’t. It was stupid and not nice for me to invite him last night. And I think I like you that way, but you scare me because I’ve never…”
The pause is excruciating, and her face doesn’t move or twitch or give any indication of what she might be feeling.
“Well, I can’t talk about that. And you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’s happy waiting around for a girl to make up her mind, and I don’t know that you’d even want me, which would make all of this moot, and I’m a little confused, and I know you’re probably going somewhere fancy for school, and there’s no point in starting anything, and I’m afraid to start anything, and I don’t know what I’m saying, and really, really wish I hadn’t taken my mom’s advice.”
She stops talking, breathing hard after her rant, and her eyes close.
She likes me. I hadn’t realized how much uncertainty I felt until she said it out loud, and now I’m feeling something like relief.
“I’m going to school at NYU.” That’s what I come up with?
Our eyes meet. “Probably me too.”
“What?” I ask. Amber in New York?
“It’s one of my final three,” she says.
“Oh.” What else did she talk about? “I think I only understood about half of what you said.”
She stands, her cheeks redder by the second. “Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything. Okay? I think that would be better.” She shifts her weight a few times and scans the carpet with her eyes.
“Alright, but I’m sort of confused by the whole thing.” At least I’m being honest.
She likes me, but isn’t sure, and also isn’t sure if she wants to start something?
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll go outside for a bit, and then I’ll come back down so we can start over.” Her shoulders are taut, her face is tight, and her hands are clenched together on the table.
I reach forward and touch my fingers to hers. Mostly because I’m an idiot, but partly because I’m really starting to like her. A lot.
Our eyes meet. “I’m nervous, and we’re going to pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“Fine.” I pull my arms away, chest back to tension. Why am I even bothering?
She jogs up the stairs and out to the back deck.
I’m left alone, in the silence of Dad’s boat. Three sets of feet are padding around up there, preparing to take off. Probably I should, too. Only now I’m more confused than ever about what’s going on with Amber.
After a few more minutes, I step outside, and the sun’s out. Wow. Even in the winter it’s beautiful here. The reflection off the small ripples in the water is unreal.
“The weather’s supposed to be crazy warm for March. Aren’t you excited?” Amber’s smile is wide.
Two seconds ago we were in awkward-ville. I guess we’re okay now. “Uh…yeah.”
She laughs. “You’ll love getting out of Kingston for a while and up into Canada. It’s the perk of living on a boat.”
“Okay.” I nod.
“Besides, your dad’s boat is really nice.” Amber finishes typing up her line and stops next to me. Dad and Lynn are looking at charts on his small screen by the steering station.
“It is?”
Her eyes widen. “Are you kidding? This is an Oyster, and a big one.”
“This is big?” I guess it’s one of the biggest on the docks, but still.
“For a sailboat, yeah. These things run over a million,” she whispers.
“What?” Where did my dad get that kind of money?
She leans in. “He does make money writing, Antony.”
Why does her warmth have to touch me when I can’t touch her? “Yeah, I just…”
“Some people make it in quantity, others, like you, will make it in quality.” Her smile makes me think that yes, she does like me. It’s different from the smile she gave me when I first arrived.
I narrow my eyes. “You’re just trying to suck up, so I’ll pass along a book.”
“Please?” Her hands grasp my bicep and her wide eyes look straight into mine. If girls had any idea how much power they have, guys would be sunk. “I loved the beginning of the one I read. I want more.”
A few more inches and our lips would touch. As much as I want it to happen, now’s not the right time. Before last night I would’ve thought any time would be the right time. “I’ll send it to your Kindle.” Crap. Why did I agree to this?
“Thanks.” She gives me a tight sideways hug before running up the walkway to the bow.
Now at least I know I’m not seeing things that aren’t there, but I still don’t know how to deal with a girl like Amber.
- - -
I step onto the back deck of Dad’s boat. Lynn is half on his lap in the captain’s chair, and they’re sharing a Coke. I’ve seen them around one another before, but never flirting like this.
We’re moving north, which seems asinine in the winter, but Dad keep assuring me that it’s generally a few degrees warmer where we’re headed.
“Wanna drive? I could show you the navigation?” Dad offers.
“No thanks.” My eyes take in the blue ocean, which is all I can see in every direction. Until blond hair. Amber, resting with her legs dangling over the side.
“How you feeling?” Dad asks.
“Fine, why?”
He shrugs. “Some people get motion sick.”
“Not me.” I’ve spent my life on too many planes, boats and other odd forms of travel for his boat to bother me. All with Mom, but I cram that away. This isn’t the time to allow her to come to the surface. Besides, I’m still hopeful that maybe at some time my body will absorb the hurt that seems to be this never-ending, aching companion of mine.
“How do I get out there?” I point toward Amber.
“Walk up the side, and don’t fall over the edge.” Dad chuckles as he hits another button on
the side of his navigation screen.
Right. Perfect. The walkway is wide, and I know if water weren’t rushing past me on one side, this wouldn’t be a problem. Instead I look at Amber, sitting way near the front of the bow, and think about how much I’d like to join her.
When I’m next to her, I don’t wait for an invite, just sit down, letting my legs hang over the side.
“Hey.” She smiles. “Isn’t this amazing?”
“What?”
“Are you kidding? Being pushed through the water by the wind! The warm sun in March! A million things!” She smiles and leans her arms on the railing in front of us.
I rest the way she is. Now that I’m sitting and relaxed, the water’s not really rushing. Just moving by. Sailing means you don’t get anywhere very fast. But in a way it doesn’t matter because we’re already on the boat, which means, we’re moving, but we’re also there.
The metal wires and clips occasionally rattle against the mast, and there’s a whistling sound as the wind pushes through the resistance we’ve created with the sails. “Yeah, all of it. It’s sort of amazing,” I agree. And I’m really feeling it, how cool this all is. I love the unique experiences I’ve had with Mom, but this is a pretty awesome too.
“I was thinking…” she starts.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sure if feels weird to be here, you know, after New York and everything.”
“It feels weird to be there, too. Or even when David was here. That felt off.” Everywhere feels “off” right now.
Her eyes hit me. “Sorry.”
I shrug. “It is what it is.”
She pulls in a deep breath. “So, I was thinking. We’re now on a trip, so you’re the guy on vacation with your dad and his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s daughter on his million dollar sailboat, and that’s it.”
“That’s it.” I stare.
“Yeah. There’s no trying to fit, or trying to be something you’re not, or holding up pretenses or anything. You’re Antony. Your dad’s a writer, and you’re sailing. That’s it.”
And I’m falling for you, I want to add. But don’t. “Thanks.”
She smiles and then her gaze wanders back out to the ocean.
And her words kind of make sense. I don’t have to fit. I just have to be here and enjoy. Amber looks relaxed, peaceful. I guess that answers one of my first questions when I saw her. She loves living on a boat. She doesn’t feel trapped. Maybe I shouldn’t feel trapped either.
Twelve
“You sure spend a lot of time on that thing.” Dad gestures with his head to my computer.
I shrug.
“How’s email sorting going?”
Right. The thing I’m supposed to be doing. “I haven’t…uh…”
He takes his glasses off and leans forward. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but there’s important stuff in there.”
I keep my eyes off him, my fingers, arms and shoulders tensing. Writing groove gone. “And it’ll still be there when I’m ready for it.”
“Antony.”
I jerk my face from the screen to look at him. “Can we drop it, please?”
“You boys ready for dinner?” Lynn jogs down the steep stairs like they’re regular steps.
“Anything but breakfast.” I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
She laughs. Dad’s still staring.
“I’ll help ya.” Dad stands up and runs a hand through her hair. Lynn glances back over her shoulder at him in a look that’s unmistakable.
Guess we’re off topic for now.
I try not to watch as I write, but I can’t help it. The touching as they move in the tiny kitchen is something I’ve never been around. They work together, reach around each other, and still seem to get a thrill from every look and every brush. They kiss a few times, and I don’t even mind it…much. Dad seems relaxed and happy. Lynn looks relaxed and happy. No wonder Amber’s confused about why they’re not together, together.
Suddenly it feels like I need to give them space, so I close my computer and head outside into the sun. Amber has the captain’s chair. She’s reading on her Kindle, and I watch as she glances over it, punches a few buttons on the navigation screen, and then goes back to reading.
“Hey.”
“Oh my gosh, Antony.” Her eyes are wide, but she looks almost like she’s going to cry.
“What?” Now I’m wary, afraid to move toward her, or away from her, and worried about saying anything.
“I’m like a third of the way through this. It’s amazing.”
“A third of the way through what?” I ask.
“Your book.”
“This is so weird.” I shake my head. It’s like she’s seeing through me, into me.
“You write such beautiful things. Do you really feel that deeply?”
I rub my face with my hands as if I need to take off a layer of skin. “This is why it’s weird when people read what I’ve written.”
“Sorry. It’s really good.” Her crystal blue eyes are soft, and there’s a faint smile that I really want to kiss into a bigger one.
“Thanks.”
She’s reading about the guy who lives in Bosnia. I met a few cool people my age there. Their parents worked at the hotel Mom and I stayed at. The kids worked, too, but on a tip-only basis. Mom tipped them well, so they were around a lot. We had a blast.
“Can we change the subject now?” I ask.
“Wanna learn to drive a sailboat?”
“Uh…” I don’t know where to even begin.
“Come here.” Her face holds challenge.
Now that it’s practically a dare, I can’t pass it up.
She runs me through how to use the navigation. It’s all pretty simple, basic. I’ve seen apps for the iPad to help navigate airplanes, boats, all sorts of stuff. This is a bit similar. The problem is that she’s close. Very close. And it’s hard to think about anything but her, breathing her in, what her skin would feel like under my hands.
She stands behind me as I sit in the captain’s chair. Her hands rest on my shoulders. “Now see the small ribbons on the sails?”
I look to where she’s pointing, and try to concentrate with her so close. “Yeah.”
“The closer they are to flapping straight back, the better we’re doing at trimming the sails.”
“Oh.” It only sort of makes sense.
“See how on the first sail, the ribbons are flapping a lot and pointing like 45 degrees down?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s tighten it up, and see if we gain any more speed.”
Again, I have no idea what to do, but for the first time I kind of want to know.
She points to the deck in front of us. “All the lines come to you, the captain.”
“Captain.” I nod. “Awesome.”
She laughs, her hands back on my shoulders. “The first sail’s lines are dark blue. See them tied off here?”
“Yeah.” I stand and her hands slide off me. Sucks.
She grabs the lines like a pro, no hesitation, and shows me how to slide the crank handle in so we can pull them more tightly.
“Hey, check it out.” I point to the ribbons that are now headed almost straight back.
“Nice. Did we gain any speed?”
“Oh, right.” I sit and pull up our chart again to read the GPS. “Half a knot?”
“Cool. One small adjustment.”
“Yeah.” One small adjustment gained us some speed. That lesson probably bleeds over into other stuff.
- - -
Amber and I sit at the table after dinner. She’s doing schoolwork. I’m trying not to look bored. It’s like getting a little close to her, makes me want to be a lot closer to her, but we’re on a boat, with both our parents. This makes my goal tricky because of the close supervision, but easier because we’re together.
“It feels weird that you’re in the tiny bunkroom,” I say. It’s where David slept—a small room with bunk beds.
>
“I’ve always slept in there. It’s a cozy room.”
“Mom would have smacked me for this kind of behavior.” I smile, even though the thought stabs at my insides.
“It’s what I’ve always done when we go out together.” She shrugs and continues with her workbook.
“Why didn’t you use my room? When I wasn’t here?” That doesn’t make any sense.
“It was an office. Your dad converted it before you got here.” She doesn’t even slow down in her writing.
“Oh.”
Dad switched it over? For me? I’m a jerk. I walked into that room and saw a prison on a dumpy boat. The thing is, this isn’t a dumpy boat. It’s just not the kind of boat I’d choose to live on. Though, since I’d never choose to live on a boat, that’s not really fair.
Amber grins as she pauses in her writing.
“What’s up?”
“Kent sent me this hysterical email.”
“Oh.” Perfect. Captain America makes an appearance even though we’re in the middle of the ocean. Brilliant.
“The group went out last night, and…” But she stops. “Sorry, you don’t really know anyone, so it wouldn’t be funny to you.”
I don’t agree or disagree. I pull up the novel I wrote that Amber doesn’t have. Why did I never let Mom read these? Why didn’t I tell her I’d finished? We were close. She should have known that I was doing more with writing than goofing around.
I pull my eyes from the screen just as Dad and Lynn kiss. Why haven’t Dad and I spent time together? Was New York that bad? Was I weird to be around? Was Mom? He wants me here. He’s said it. He converted his office for me. But how does that fit with the guy I barely knew or talked to? The guy who left when I was three?
My life has felt pretty full. Mom was always busy, but let me be busy with her. And while I grew up, it generally was a relief when Dad wouldn’t call for long periods of time.
And now that I’m watching Dad and Lynn, I wonder why Mom never tried for that.
I start to wonder what holds Amber’s mom back. Well, and while I’m at it, since Amber feels something for me, I want to know what’s holding her back, too.