by Amy Saia
“What are you saying? I love you. Grandmother Carrie loves you.”
“I’m not really talking about love. I’m talking about belonging.”
“Those men—they don’t know you, Mom. They’re selfish; they’re not a real church. I’m right here, and I can help you. I know you have a drinking problem. We haven’t really talked about it, but it’s not like I haven’t noticed you acting different. We can go back to Colorado Springs and join an Alcoholics Anonymous group. I’ll get a better job to help pay for the move. Give me a few days to get some things worked out and we can go. Just please, I’m begging you, Mom, please don’t go to that church!”
My lip began to tremble. When I reached out to touch her hand, she yanked it away.
“I don’t need help,” she said with an angry whisper, eyes flaring to life suddenly. “You do. Both you and Grandmother Carrie.”
“I don’t understand.” Our eyes met, and I could barely stand to look into the hard, black pupils that seemed like pinpoints. “Are you talking about our psychic ability?”
“It’s evil. They can teach you how to stop.”
A million thoughts ran through my head with one common theme. She was the missing factor. “You weren’t born with it,” I mumbled, more to myself. “The gift—it skipped you. Is that why you’ve been so angry?”
She backed away, eyes turning lifeless again.
I ran around to stop her from heading down the stairs. “It isn’t evil. I always thought it was a curse, but it’s not. Please, let’s just talk about this. I’m begging you not to go there. . . .” I stopped short when her hand met my face with a hard slap.
“Tomorrow,” she said, with a voice barren of emotion. “It will all be worked out when you come with me tomorrow.”
I sat in the hall and listened to the sound of her leaving the house. I was still there when the phone rang again a few minutes later.
I walked downstairs, picked the receiver up off its ringing base, and spoke. “Meet me outside. Five minutes.”
“You’re crying. You’re still mad at me,” Jesse said.
“Yes and yes.”
Jesse was good as gold, swinging around the corner like the hand of a clock popping onto the hour. I ran down the front steps and got in the passenger seat before he could cut the engine.
“Drive,” I told him.
He backed out and headed east.
“Sorry about last night, Emma. I’m just a sore loser, that’s all. When I heard you talking about him, I lost it.” His voice cracked. “We were going to leave town—it was all planned. You were the last person I had, you know?”
I wiped at my tears. “Don’t make me feel sorry for you, Jesse. Just be funny or something.”
“Okay. Funny.” He clicked his tongue a few times. “Tomorrow a whole bunch of Connie Francis records are set to come in, only, I might have ordered Alice Cooper instead.”
I snorted. “Oh my God, why does Phil keep you?”
“Don’t know. He’s a pretty cool guy considering.”
“Considering what?”
“He’s like everyone else in town, belongs to that church.”
“The Soul Seekers?” I couldn’t help the distaste in my voice.
“Yeah. They’re pretty strict about what they allow him to sell and play. Hell, he can’t say a word without some sort of reprimand from those bastards.”
I turned to him. “Have you ever gone?”
He was slow to speak, bending to push in a new station on his dashboard stereo. “Yeah. Plenty of times.”
“What’s it like? What do they do in there?”
“They act all concerned for your moral welfare, then the brainwashing starts. You’re nothing without them, and if you leave, the whole town turns against you. They’re having a potluck tonight—new members will be born.” He drummed his fingers at that.
“Can you take me?”
“You want to go in there?”
“I want to see what it looks like.”
“All right, whatever.”
He was quiet as he headed the car through town, driving past Main and slowing down after we’d passed the railroad tracks. A huge spire reached above a granite building, cutting into a darkened blue sky. Candles flickered in each gothic window as we pulled up, menacingly lighting the crowd of innocent faces inside.
He let the car idle by the side of the church, then asked quietly, “What do you really want to see this for? You’re not thinking of joining are you?”
“No. I just—I don’t know. I guess I want to understand.”
He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “What you see is what you get. Springvale’s like one big spider web and they’re the black widow. Wanna be a little moth sucked dry?”
He swept his hand across the scene. “There’s your chance. You’re too good for it, Emma. That’s why I’ve been trying to get you out of here—that’s why I was mad last night.”
A chill went down my back, and I crossed my arms to stay warm. “I can’t leave now. There’s something I have to do.”
“What, Emma? Tell me so I can talk you out of it.”
“You wouldn’t understand. Just drive, okay?”
He pushed on the gas just as Marcus stepped out from the arched entry. His tall figure stood perched in a black suit, peering at us over the long steps like a school principal.
Jesse commented, speeding up, “Man, that place gives me the royal creeps.”
I laughed in a shaky way. “You know what, Jesse? Me too. Yikes.”
He laughed and placed his arm over the top of the headrest, his hand dangling over my shoulder.
“Wanna get something to eat . . . in Brentwood?” he asked.
“What the heck, but just for a second. I really have to get back. Do you know I got in trouble for staying out all night?”
“Sorry. You should be like me and live on your own. No parents. Well, not in the immediate vicinity, that is.”
“Jesse, do you really think you have some famous dad? Because I think your mom made up the whole thing to make you feel better.”
“Whoa! Hey little girl, you don’t even know. Just cause you grew up in some nice house with the perfect little family and all.”
“Believe me, my family is far from perfect.” I looked out the window. “Was, I mean.”
“Well, anyway, he’s real, he’s John Lennon, and I’m going to meet him.”
I turned in my seat. “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.” Jesse wouldn’t look at me. “You’re really talented, you know? I didn’t get to hear much night, but it was enough for me to know you’re really good. I hope you do make it, famous dad or not.”
It took him a while to speak. “Thanks.” The Springvale limits sign flashed by. “Gotta give me a high five for that!” He reached out, and I gave an unenthusiastic slap in return.
“It’s like Brigadoon,” I whispered to myself.
“What?” Jesse looked over at me.
“You know, they leave and the town disappears—in the mists of time.”
“Sounds weird. Is that a book or something?”
“No. Just an old movie. These two guys find a town by accident that’s been around forever. One guy falls for a girl that lives there, but he finds out if he leaves, time will have passed a whole century. Of course, he’s in love and that makes everything work out perfect.”
“Just like real life,” Jesse replied with sarcasm.
I faked a laugh.
“Well, anyway, I’m not into books and all that stuff.” Jesse sounded defensive.
“Oh, I am. I love books.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. Too much.” There was only one other person I knew that loved them a
s much as me. A picture flashed in my mind of him sitting there every day within his wall; a knight in the wrong kingdom. He’d be there forever unless he made room for anyone else—no love, no hope.
“Well, reading never did anything for me. Give me a guitar and a pick, that’s all I need.”
We were in Brentwood in ten minutes. Jesse found an old-fashioned drive-in burger place and parked the car by an order stand, giving the Camaro one last rev before shutting off the engine. “Want a Coke?” he asked, pulling the keychain from the ignition and flipping it around his finger.
“Dr Pepper.”
He leaned out the window and ordered himself a full burger meal and my soda. While we waited for it to arrive, he sat a little closer. His voice was low.
“We’ll find a cool apartment in SOHO—that’s where all the cool people hang. You can come to all the gigs. Jesus, I’d love to see you there in the audience every night. I’ll record my album—a year later, number one on the charts.”
“Nice plan, only I won’t be going with you. I told you.”
“No, no, no. Don’t make any decisions yet. Give it time.”
“I mean it. I’m not leaving with you. Anyway, we’re friends, Jesse, okay? Just friends.”
We sat in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“I fucking hate that word.”
“Don’t cuss.”
“Oh lord, you have some high ideals, girl! You live under the impression that gentlemen still exist?”
“Some do.”
“Wrong.”
“I don’t believe that.”
A waitress skated up to deliver our order at the driver’s side window. Jesse gave her some cash and a small tip then handed me my Dr Pepper.
“Believe it. There is no such thing as a gentleman. It just doesn’t exist.”
I looked away, mad. Jesse was wrong. He didn’t know William. “Well,” I said, shaking my head, “maybe you should try being one sometime. No cussing, no pushing yourself on a girl. Us being friends would be the perfect exercise.”
“I’d only be friends with you thinking the whole time that I wanted to have sex eventually. Got it?”
I took a long sip of my drink. Remembering the tests with William, I closed my eyes and tried to send a message to Jesse.
You’re my only friend, and the only thing getting me through this night. Can’t you see that, Jesse Limon?
I opened my eyes to see him chomping away at his burger, completely oblivious to the test.
“I got it,” I finally answered. Loud and clear.
“I’m only trying to help you. And I’m not giving up.” Jesse took another bite of hamburger and gulped loud.
Rain started to fall outside, pattering on the windshield. “I’m in love with him, Jesse. Desperately, stupidly in love.”
He lowered the food and took a slow swipe at his face with a paper napkin. “Really.” He tossed the burger back in its wrapper on the dashboard. “You weren’t talking to him a week ago.”
“We talked today. He’s one of those guys that is too good to be true. It scares me.”
“Pfft. He wants something then.”
“No honest. He told me to leave town. He doesn’t want anything. I can’t help loving him. And I—I won’t leave unless he comes with me.”
“Another ridiculous plan by Madame Shay. Head in the clouds much?”
“I know it sounds stupid.”
Jesse grabbed his burger again. “Where was he when you needed help this week? Where was he that night when you were alone in the park bleeding your heart out?”
I turned my head to look at him, appalled. “You heard all that?”
“Yeah. It was kind of sweet, like reading someone’s diary. I was sitting behind the gazebo and heard every word. I headed out of the park before you knew any better.”
Heat spread through every pore—every cell of my body. “God, I’m stupid.”
His hand reached out to brush my hair aside. “No more than me.”
I flipped my head up. “That’s why we should just be friends.” I smiled to hear him groan and watch him moved his hand away. “We understand each other. We both want the same thing, essentially. You want other things with that thing and I only want the one. You’re like the older brother I never had.”
Jesse covered his ears. “Brother? Stop! I can’t eat now.” He looked at the unfinished meal and shoved everything into the paper sack. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Okay. I’m never going to sleep tonight anyway. Show me around this dirty little town.”
“Oh, baby, you said dirty.” He pulled out of the parking space. “I’ll be conservative—for Emma.”
We drove to a strip mall and walked around until we found an open arcade next to a pizza joint. I stood and watched Jesse play Galaxian for two hours, on only a few quarters. Now I knew what he did with his spare time. We moved on to the alley to watch a group of kids who’d snuck out of their houses to skateboard. An overhang kept the rain from drenching us.
“You stay in Springvale with this guy,” Jesse commented, sitting down on a loading dock ledge, “and what happens to you?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. And I don’t care.” I waited for him to scoot over before I sat down. “As long as I’m with him, I don’t care.” Someone skated close, spinning around inches from my dangling feet.
It took Jesse a while to respond. “He’ll keep you in that nothing town and everything great about you will die. Think about New York, Emma. Think about rebellion and music and freedom. You need someone like me to keep you from turning into all those people you hate. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“You could never love someone as much as you love yourself, Jesse.”
A bitter laugh escaped into the dark. “I’ll always be waiting, Emma.”
“And I’ll never come.”
“Liar. You will.” Our eyes met in a long challenge before he scooted back a little then stood up. “Hey! One of you brats, lend me your board.”
Someone skidded up and handed theirs over. Jesse stepped on and skated away from me, attempting to do a jump. He fell on the concrete then got back up as if nothing had happened. I let out a loud laugh. He showed a grimace and bent over to attempt another jump onto a low wall. Crash. I ran over, trying not to laugh, bursting out with uncontrollable giggles when I saw the miserable look on his face.
“I’m dying,” he groaned.
I grabbed the ejected board and hopped on. “Watch this.”
I pumped the ground with my left foot to get some speed, skated around the area a few times, and jumped a box and spun around to a skid before reaching a metal dumpster. “My dad taught me how to skateboard. I used to do it for hours while he worked away in the garage. Want me to show you some tricks?”
“No, no. I’ve had enough. I think it’s time to go home anyway.”
I sent the board rolling to its original owner and offered a hand to Jesse. “You sure are a sore loser.”
“That’s because I never lose. Ever.” He refused my hand and stood up on his own. “You’re really making my life miserable, you know that?”
“I’m doing it on purpose, too.”
“Seems like it.”
We headed through the alley to the parking lot.
“Did . . . did you ever find the coin?” His voice was quiet.
It took me a while to answer. “No.”
“Lover man has it?”
“No.”
We were at the car. Jesse slid into his seat and unlocked my door from inside. He waited for me to get in and close my door. “I can see why you wouldn’t trust me, Emma, but I only want to help you. Yeah, I want to help myself, too. If you let me sell the coin, we could share the dough.
”
I thought about it and kept quiet as he started the car and drove us to the main road.
He turned to look at me. “You have it. It’s obvious. We’ll go back to your house, you give me the coin, and I’ll sell it tomorrow on my lunch. Honest transaction. It’s a dude right here in Brentwood. No bullshit. C’mon Emma.”
It was quiet in the car as we waited for a red light to change. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting. The light turned green. “If I find it, I’ll let you know.”
He peeled out of the stop and reached to turn on the radio—loud. The Knack.
We drove into the dark mists of Springvale at about one in the morning. Jesse maneuvered us around the brick-paved path of Main, and then down Walters Street to Gran’s house. He turned off the engine, and we both sat, silent.
“So, if you find it you’ll drop by Phil’s tomorrow, say, about noon?”
I fingered the strap on my bag. “Sure.”
“Gonna let me come in to see your room?”
I laughed. “That is the lamest line, Jesse. After everything we talked about tonight, you’re really asking to come in my room?”
“Ah hell, I just want to see what Emma’s world looks like. C’mon.”
I let out a long sigh. “Fine.”
The front door knob was stubborn as usual. Grandmother Carrie’s house had a list of impairments that none of us cared to address. Three women and one screwdriver, you’d think one of us could have fixed it. I shoved the door open, and we crept in past the front hall and up the stairs. When I turned on the light Jesse pushed me forward and clicked my bedroom door shut, eyes looking crazy.
“I’ve finally got you cornered.” He laughed a fake evil laugh.
“Shh.”
He flopped on the bed, boots still on, and took a look around. “You’re such a hippie. Look at the Joni Mitchell poster—geez.”
Jesse caught sight of the drawing I’d made of William. I watched as he got up to look at it. “So here he is.”