18 Things

by Jamie Ayres

  I’d learned control from almost eighteen years of living with my mother, so I forced my voice to remain dry and calm now. “I’ll be fine. My house isn’t far. I can send you a text when I get there if that makes you feel better.”

  Nate curled his fingers into his hair and said, “Olga, I’m so sorry if this date was too much for you, if you weren’t ready. I didn’t mean to … .”

  A silence more awkward than anything I’d ever felt hung between us as he finally called this night what it really was. A date. Immediately my mind flashed back to the day Conner died. I knew however much I cared for Nate, I had to give him the cold shoulder now. “No, it’s fine. It’s not that I can’t handle being here. I just don’t feel good. I’ll see ya later.”

  I quickly descended his porch steps, not giving him another chance to debate. The stinging tears I’d fought back finally flowed freely. I knew I was a coward for running away like that, but fleeing the scene was what I did best.

  “Yesterday is a memory,

  tomorrow is a mystery

  and today is a gift which

  is why it is called the present.”

  —Unknown

  “Happy Halloween,” Nicole said when I opened the front door. She handed me two presents. “And happy birthday.”

  I’d always thought it ironic Mom birthed me on the only day of the year she viewed as pure pagan evil.

  “Thanks.” I automatically knew the one wrapped in the fancy orange paper and lavish bow was from her, and I didn’t need to read the card on the other one either, wrapped in green, to know who it was from.

  “That one is from Nate.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” I said, my voice irritated.

  Nic cleared her throat. “So, let me get this straight; you bail on your first date, even steal his poetry, avoid him for two weeks, but he still buys you a present, and you’re the one annoyed?”

  I shuffled to the couch, in my comfy slipper socks; Mom’s only present to me. “I just wish he’d get a clue.”

  She plopped down next to me and grinned. “I don’t think someone who dreamed asking for your hand is giving up easily.”

  I’d shown his poem to Nicole. She took that line to mean marriage and figured it had to be about me because who else could he like? Her assessment totally freaked me out. I reminded myself daily about the vow I made to myself after Conner’s death: never fall in love again.

  My life list definitely didn’t include that one, no matter what Nic and Tammy thought was best for me. Better safe than sorry. That didn’t mean I stopped thinking about Nate though. I wished there was a switch to turn off those butterfly-inducing feelings. Oh wait, there was, it’s called guilt. So any time he tried to call my house and I saw his number pop up on the I.D. display, I let the phone ring and told my parents not to answer, that the caller was unknown or just spam. When I spotted him in the halls at school, I walked the other way and on occasion, engaged a random stranger in a convo so he wouldn’t be tempted to invade my space and start talking to me.

  “Does he ever say anything about me?” I asked Nic, peeling away her bow, carefully unwrapping the paper so I could reuse it.

  “Not to me,” she said, gathering her long black hair in her hands and laying it across one shoulder. “And if he does to Sean, he’s not spilling the beans.”

  I nodded and studied the contents in my lap. Inside Nicole’s box were chic black leather shorts, a shimmering gold sweater, and a large pair of feathery earrings.

  “Those earrings look like the ones girls wear at strip clubs,” Mom said, on the way to the kitchen for a coffee refill.

  I rolled my eyes. “How would you know, Mom?”

  Nicole tried not to laugh as Mom shot us a don’t-mess-with-me look.

  “Oh, come on. It’s my birthday. You have to be nice to me.”

  Ha! That shut her up. She pursed her lips, then turned her back on me and left the room.

  I hugged Nicole. “Thanks for the outfit. It’s perfect, just like my best friend.”

  She shoved Nate’s present in my lap. “Don’t forget this one.”

  Inside Nate’s box awaited a Magic 8-Ball wrapped in tissue paper and a voucher for a free firewalk in Cedar Springs, a town about an hour from Grand Haven, and a note. “Happy birthday to a real groovy chick. I’m glad I got to know you this year. Good luck with crossing all the stuff off your list before your next birthday. Thought I’d help you out with these two things. Ask the 8-Ball if you should come firewalking with me tonight to commemorate becoming an official adult. Call me if the outlook is good.”

  Nicole let loose a snort of laughter, and I chuckled to myself.

  “He sure does have a way with words. Go ahead and ask the Ball,” she said.

  After shaking the plastic ball up for a good ten seconds, I peeked at the transparent window on the bottom of the Ball for my answer. “As I see it, yes.”

  “Yesss!” She pumped her hand in the air. “Call Nate and tell him.”

  “No way. I’m not going on another date with him.”

  “We’ll all go. It’ll be fun.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears.”

  “You know, you’re starting to sound like your mother now that you’re an adult.”

  I wanted to punch her in the face. Instead, I hugged her goodbye, then completed my chores so Mom would let me go out later. Do I really want to go? The wondering made me restless enough to take a walk, but I got distracted by Dad walking across the parking lot, tinkering in our one-car garage.

  “Whatcha doing, old man?”

  Dad looked at me, his face rosy and shiny. “Just cleaning out some old junk.”

  I smiled. “Don’t you know how to kick back on the weekends?”

  He threw his head back in laughter. “Now you know your mother would never let me get away with that. Heard you got some big birthday plans with your friends tonight, eh?”

  Shrugging, I perused the shelves hanging on the wall of the garage. I hardly ever came in here. Even when I went somewhere with my parents, Dad pulled the car out first so Mom and I could get in without banging the doors against the sides. But it was no surprise the garage appeared very neat and organized, just as my parents liked every aspect of their lives.

  “So, you traded all the cardboard boxes for rubber bin storage? Nice … .”

  I spied the retro mahogany trunk that used to be in my room. Back when I was a child, the trunk was filled with stuffed animals, but we donated those long ago. I pulled it off the shelf and gawked. The trunk must’ve weighed at least thirty pounds. After popping open the lock, I discovered a much different kind of child’s treasure inside, although there was a Winnie-the-Pooh bear that Aunt Tara brought to the hospital the day I was born. I quickly picked through the award certificates, spelling bee medals, school folders with pictures of Tiny Toon characters containing samples of my work, and classic fairy tale books.

  I didn’t know what I searched for until I found it, which happened often in my life. But what I really wanted was nothing new. It came in the form of an envelope stuffed with my letters to the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus. The one dated from the year 2001 mentioned him.

  Dear Santa Claus,

  I have not been good or bad but okay. I’ve had a few fights with Conner. This year I want world peace, a new name, a basset hound, a DVD of the Lizzie McGuire show, and the joy of Christmas. Oh, and for Conner to get everything on his list too.

  Love,

  Olga

  A stabbing hurt rose from my heart, came out as a strangled cry, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

  “Hey, hun, you okay?” Dad leaned over my shoulder. “Oh, maybe we should put this away.”

  Dad’s voice sounded worried, and I couldn’t blame him after I swallowed that whole bottle of pills after Conner’s death. Still, I was irritated and just wanted to be left alone. And since it was my birthday, I should’ve been able to demand that one thing.

  “I’m fine, Dad. Can you give
me a minute out here by myself?”

  “Well, I was finished in here anyway, so I guess it’s okay, if you’re sure you’re alright.”

  I nodded and glanced toward the parking lot, watching him go while some kids zoomed by on their bikes. I couldn’t help but think that just like them, life goes by so fast. It’s like I blinked, and everything I thought was there disappeared. I’d give anything to be a kid again without a care in the world.

  In another envelope, I found some goofy pictures my friends and I took in middle school. One of me and Nic showed her talking on a cell phone and me holding my Pooh bear. Obviously the photo shoot was one of those deals where we could bring our own props from home. To make it even cheesier, we wore matching outfits: denim miniskirts with red turtlenecks and black penny loafer shoes without socks—so we could show off our friendship ankle bracelets. My hair was in the standard pigtail braids, a frizzy mess, and her black hair was neatly woven into a half-ponytail.

  In Conner’s picture, Sean leaned down on a huge white Bengal tiger that stood to his waist, and Conner wrote a caption from the tiger’s mouth: “This kid on me is weird.”

  A snort of laughter escaped me as I studied Conner’s trademark cocky grin, Sean’s closemouthed smile—an effort to hide the braces he wore back then—and Kyle smiling wide, his blue eyes twinkling of mischief. I turned the photo over, and sure enough, there was Conner’s handwriting. “Eighth grade has been fun. Now you have this awesome picture to remember us! Have a great summer. I’ll probably see ya around, like tomorrow! Hahaha. Yeah, baby, we’re gonna be high schoolers next year!”

  A silent sob rose in my throat. My elementary and middle school yearbooks lined the bottom of the trunk, but I ignored them, piling everything back in and shutting it fiercely before placing it back on the shelf. I felt terrified all of a sudden, like nothing was familiar, not even my past. I pushed the button to close the garage and climbed into Dad’s Ford. He always left the keys in the truck, trusting in the safety of our small town. But this place hadn’t felt safe for me since Conner died. Sure, Nate’s presence had been helping, but I’d screwed that up. Maybe I should’ve just reopened the garage and drove right out of town, not stopping until I reached the California coast. Better yet, leave the garage closed, turned on the car, and let carbon monoxide poisoning take me away to that place somewhere over the rainbow like Dorothy sang about in The Wizard of Oz, some place where Conner still lived.

  A lump formed in my throat as I turned the key in the ignition. The automatic light from the garage door opener shut off just as Dad’s headlights flashed on.

  Perfect timing, something that never happened in my life.

  I sighed and turned the dial on the radio, searching and praying for a song that would speak to me.

  Norah Jones’ version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, singing about troubles melting like lemon drops, stilled me. Weird. I’d just been thinking of this tune moments ago, and now here it was. I couldn’t believe this was a mere coincidence.

  Slumping over the wheel, I sung along to the lyrics, but my shoulders quaked and my voice broke. I leaned to the side and opened the glove compartment, in search of the napkins Dad always stockpiled in there. Sure enough, some spilled onto the floor.

  Reaching down to pick them up, I discovered a white envelope with “Olga” written in black ink. I wondered if Dad bought the card for my birthday and then forgot about it. Since the rectangular paper had my name on it, I tore it open. The front had a picture of a lake and birds hovering near a rainbow in the sky. The eerie thing wasn’t just that the photo matched the song, but I thought I remembered him getting me this card before.

  In red letters it said, “Daughter, This Birthday I Want You to Know What a Special Person You Are.” I stared down at the card, déjà vu making it hard to comprehend the words. But I opened it up and read the inside anyway. “You are strong with the strength to carry your dream to completion. You are determined with the desire to meet the world on your own terms, and I never doubt that you will. You are your own person, and you always will be. You are the promise of the future, so precious and rare, and even though you lose faith sometimes, I always believe in you. I love you so much … Happy Birthday, sweetheart. XXOO—Dad.”

  My heart froze, then pounded, and my face flushed. I turned off the truck and blew my nose into a spare napkin from Jumpin’ Java. I knew he got me that same exact card for my fourteenth birthday. I never thought a card could stay in circulation that long, but I remembered it well because the words touched me back then as much as they did now. I wondered if Dad recalled buying me the same card and made the purchase on purpose, or if the song and card was just another happy coincidence. Whatever the case, both were just what I needed.

  “Olga! Are you out here?”

  Disoriented, I glanced at my watch. My friends were picking me up for tonight’s celebration, and nobody had a clue as to where I was. I snuck out the side door of the garage and made a loop around the back before coming to the front.

  “There you are!” Nic exclaimed.

  “Your dad said he left you in the garage, but the door was shut so we were worried. You really should keep your cell with you at all times.” Tammy eyeballed me suspiciously as she tossed me my phone.

  I guessed they tried to call when I was AWOL and heard it ringing in my room.

  “Where were you?”

  I wrapped both of my friends in an uncharacteristic hug. “Nowhere. Just went for a walk.” I looked at Nate, his head down, standing by the SUV with Kyle and Sean. Pawing a hand through my hair, I tried to think of a way to make up for ignoring Nate for so long. “And now I’m ready to firewalk!”

  That statement couldn’t have been further from the truth, but hopefully it helped to lighten the mood.

  We loaded into Tammy’s Lexus and headed for Cedar Springs. As I turned my eyes toward the window, I really did feel like the dark clouds were behind me, that maybe turning eighteen was a new beginning for me.

  I sat up front with Tammy; Kyle, Sean, and Nicole were in the back seat, and Nate was shoved in the cargo space. Dressed in the new outfit Nicole gave me, I held the Magic 8-Ball in my lap.

  “Remember how you said no to getting tattooed?” Tammy asked.

  My body tensed. “Yeah.”

  “Ask the thingy about it.”

  I sighed. “Should I get a tattoo?” The liquid sloshed around as I shook. “Ha! My sources say no.”

  She stuck out her tongue at me. “Ask it if you should go on a date with Nate.”

  According to the rules of my list, I had to ask, so I did. The radio was cranked loud enough where I didn’t think Nate heard our convo anyway. “Ask again later.”

  “Darn. That thing is on your side.”

  “Not really. I’m here, aren’t I?” I teased, kind of.

  Tammy shot me a disappointed look. “I think we should’ve forced you to 8-ball it all year.”

  I wrapped my arms around the ball protectively. “Why?”

  She shook her head. “Because the whole point of it is to do things you’re unprepared for, and a good guy is one of those things. That’s what makes them so wonderful. You should give Nate a chance.”

  Slouching in my seat, I didn’t say another word the whole way there. I may have been ready to tackle some new things, but not love.

  Before firewalking, we sat around a path of coals, on log benches, listening to a motivational speech from the guy who owned the place.

  “Firewalking is a rite of passage. So it’s only fitting we have someone here tonight for her eighteenth birthday.”

  The small crowd cheered as my friends shouted, “Olga Gay Worontzoff,” embarrassing me.

  “Tonight is a test of your strength, courage, and faith as you try to focus mind over matter. In my life, I’ve learned to be content, whatever the circumstances, knowing everything happens for a reason. Our destinies aren’t thwarted by our failures. We’re not bound to our pain. Nobody’s perfect, so you just have to trust
your gut and follow your heart to live a full life, and that’s what this experience is about. Free your mind. Napoleon Hill once said, ‘What the mind can conceive, it can achieve.’ Let’s meditate for a while.”

  The air was thick with the smell of burning coals as our meditation guy began what he called a five-minute body check-in to create a sense of unity with body, mind, and spirit. Strangely, this technique did force my body to relax.

  When we were done, Sean turned to me. “May the force be with you.”

  I made the sign of the crucifix. “And also with you.”

  Nate went first since he was the expert. He walked across the hot coals as easily as I imagined Jesus walking across water. Sean ran the length of the firewalk, screaming like a girl the whole way. Nicole swore like a Jersey member of the mafia when it was her turn. Kyle asked us to do a drum roll, so we all banged our hands on our thighs as loud as we could. And of course, Tammy did a cheer:

  “The making of a champion”—clap, clap—“Stand up and cheer”—clap, clap—“It’s our destiny”—clap, clap—“This will be our year”—clap, clap—“Yay!”

  Nate touched my arm. “You’re next, birthday girl.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” I pulled at my ponytail, fighting back tears.

  He tapped the side of my head. “You can do anything you set your mind to, remember?”

  Tammy began the count down from ten, the small crowd catching on and joining her from eight. “Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, firewalk.”

  I stared at Nate, my lips and chin trembling, and he extended his hand. I took hold of it, and with the longest stride I could muster, walked across the coals, gripping his fingers harder with each movement.

  Everyone cheered as I traveled my last few steps, but I kept marching because straight ahead, people dipped their bare feet in a small pond.

  Adrenaline pumping, I didn’t even feel the heat, but that didn’t stop me from launching myself up to my thighs before registering the coolness of the water. It reminded me of the night Conner died, how I was so cold I was numb. That made me even colder, but I remained frozen to the spot in the middle of the pond.