Incense and Peppermints

by Constantine, Cathrina

  Whether it was my response, the dreamlike atmosphere, too many beers, or my husky voice, I wasn’t sure, but Jimmy seemed to presume it was an invitation to jump my bones. He corralled me into the corner of the vestibule.

  “No, not here.” I elbowed him in the ribs and scampered into the cold night.

  Immediately, I opened my mouth, sucking in rejuvenating oxygen to clear my muddied brain. I’d been lingering in the moonless shadows of the building and heard feet crunching over the stones. Muscular arms ensnared my shoulders, and a head nestled into my hair, kissing my neck. I twisted to face Jimmy. He took it as an optimistic sign and breezed his hands inside my coat before I had a chance to protest.

  “Back off.” I clubbed him in the head with the heel of my palm.

  “When you said not here, I thought you meant out here.” He appeared piqued, massaging his head.

  “No. It meant no.”

  “C’mon,” he said in a resigned sigh. “My car is over there.” He kicked at the stones as he traipsed to his car.

  I stood motionless, wanting him ahead of me. What did I get myself into? Gauging his car, it looked like a trap. My stomach roiled like an unholy cocktail. What if Jimmy is the guy? I inhaled in bumpy spurts and a whimper percolated from the bottom of my esophagus. Regulating my harried gasps, I had to pull myself together. Jimmy was Lancaster’s sought after quarterback, not the guy who attacked me, right?

  He slid into the car, started the motor, and beckoned for me to get in. Sudden images of Michael opening his truck door like a gentleman bred spongy thoughts. Deal with it. Jimmy isn’t Michael.

  As I forged ahead, I spotted a scowl warping Jimmy’s face. Then I heard weighty footfalls approaching from behind. I twirled to see Michael. Moonlight shimmered on feathering hair. He looked menacing in a snug black leather jacket, and a grave brow shadowing his eyes.

  “Mary, I’m taking you home.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Covington?” Jimmy had gotten out of the car, and his arm rested on the doorframe. “I thought you’d be sucking face with those girls by now.”

  The crackling of stones under heavy footfalls issued from both directions. Michael closed the distance and Jimmy tromped forward. I felt safe with Michael, but the quarterback had just asked me out. Torn, I felt as if I was being juggled like a pickle in the middle.

  Who can I trust?

  “She wants me to take her home,” Jimmy said and seized my hand.

  Michael wove his fingers into my other hand, and I became the rope in a tug-of-war.

  “Back down, Pender,” Michael warned.

  Turning my head from Michael to Jimmy, and then from Jimmy to Michael, I read their dauntless expressions. Neither boy had intentions of yielding. Ripping my hands from their fingers, I said, “Who needs either of you. I can take care of myself.” Wired and utterly loosey-goosey, I took off at a brisk pace.

  Due to my shoes scrabbling on the stones, I wasn’t positive if I’d heard the words correctly, but Jimmy said something that sounded like, “ She must’ve been a sweet lay for you to—”

  The noise of knuckles on flesh made me jerk to a standstill. I veered around to see Jimmy holding his chin. He lunged with a shoulder tackle into Michael’s sternum. A resilient Michael planted his feet, and clutching Jimmy by the waist, winched him aside. They were equal in height, and likely in strength, and I had a chance of stopping them as much as I had a chance of stopping a locomotive. The fight between them was not exclusively about me. Ever since Michael had come to Lancaster, the two of them had been in some sort of competition, and there had been an underlying itch that needed to be scratched.

  As was my impetuous nature, I bolted in front of Michael, trying to end it. His hands cupped my shoulders, driving me out of the way before Jimmy came down on him, hard. Alarmed, I watched two, hormonal, reckless bodies hurling to the stones, grappling and grunting.

  “This isn’t solving anything.”

  Why’d I even bother speaking? They were not listening to me. I should have kept walking and left them to battle out their aggressions. But I was an impulsive budinski. Foreseeing an auspicious opening, I hopped on Jimmy’s back and looped my arms around his neck.

  “You’re both idiots,” I shouted. A thwack to my ribcage propelled me sideways, and my wheezing for an ounce of oxygen terminated the conflict.

  “Calm down, Mary,” Michael said, squatting over me. “Breathe slow. Inhale. Exhale.”

  A splattering of starbursts ignited before my eyes then everything faded to black.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Take a slow deep breath,” said Jimmy.

  It felt like a two-by-four had slammed into my ribs. Someone’s hands had moored under my armpits, getting me to my feet.

  “Can you breathe now?” Michael held my arms over my head.

  Feeling like a child, I forced my arms down and hugged my ribcage. “Michael, take me home.”

  I peeked at Jimmy from under my brooding brow. His lips squeezed tightly together. Shaking his head he pressed a hand to his jaw and then plodded to his Mustang.

  Michael held my hand and escorted me in the opposite direction. He opened the passenger door and steered me onto the seat. When the engine rumbled to life, music blared from the speakers, triggering a tenacious throb in my temples.

  Craptastic, a hangover already? I was grateful when he turned the volume down. Thoughts of venting took a back seat after one look at his mulish face chiseled in stone. I figured it was to my advantage to button my lips.

  He knew better than to turn into my driveway with the headlights on—announcing my late arrival. Instead, he parked along the curb across the street, and I moved to open the door.

  “Mary.”

  I turned to see his drowsy weighted eyelids. He sluggishly blinked as if he were struggling in a haze. I’d seen that expression before on Stevie. Is he on something?

  “I’m sorry.” His southern twang was unmistakable, and it got thicker when he drank. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I didn’t expect that.”

  “He was just taking me home.” Did he see Jimmy pawing me in the parking lot? And why does it matter to him? He abandoned me. “You guys really hate each other.”

  “You’re too gullible. Pender has a rep for...” Lifting a jittery hand, he caressed my cheek with his callused fingertips. “You wear your innocence like a glove.”

  “How would you know anything about my innocence, Michael Covington?”

  “I know.”

  “Not everyone seems to see me that way.” Lowering my eyes I picked at some imaginary lint on my coat. “They think…you…and I.”

  “That’s the attraction,” he said, voice scratchy. “Allegedly, you have experience. Yet, you still have that pure...untried veneer.”

  “Jimmy asked me out.” I threw in his face to prove I wasn’t a total misfit. Unfortunately, I sounded like an immature juvenile.

  “Really?” His lashes flickered, exposing a gash of blue.

  Either he was astounded that someone had taken an interest in me, or he was shocked it had been Pender.

  “Discounting the pervert at Putnam’s,” he said, “have you ever been kissed?”

  I wanted to lie. To say I’d kissed lots of boys. Did he see the crawling blush suffusing my cheeks, giving him my answer?

  He seemed to be tallying the freckles on my nose as he tilted near. I held my breath. Ever so gradually, his hands reached for me. Fingertips skimmed beneath my chin and breezed into my hair, drawing me in. I was losing myself in his glimmering pools of blue.

  Exquisite sensations rippled through my body. I shivered. Petrified and exhilarated, I closed my eyes. Light and supple, his lips brushed mine—so sweet and soft.

  I tensed.

  He moved back, stopping a breath away. Opening my eyes, I wondered if I had done it badly. His scrutiny was u
nreadable until he sealed the gap, kissing me firmer and awakening newfound sensations. His mouth parted and tenderly caressed me again. The warmth of his tongue stroked my lips, and under his tutorage, I parted my mouth. His pressure increased, and my body prickled with shocking tidal waves of longing. Lean hands held my chin to meet his demand.

  All of a sudden, he pulled far away, focused, restrained, and frowning.

  “You’d better go.” he said, his voice thick and cruel. As if I was revolting, he turned and his fingers clenched the steering wheel.

  Awkward. What did I do wrong? Twisting to the door, I fumbled with the handle and darted from the truck.

  Quiet as a mouse, I padded through the kitchen, wiping sappy tears. Slinking into bed would’ve been the logical choice, clothes and all, but I needed to use the bathroom.

  I didn’t switch on the lights until I was enclosed in the dark room so as not to rouse my parents. Squinting at the reflection of an inexperienced sixteen-year-old striving to make up for lost time, I grimaced. I sketched my lips with my finger—the feel of Michael’s kiss still prevalent.

  My ragged breath caught in my lungs, and a superb tremor affected my core. His kiss was what dreams were made of. Unlike the gagging I’d stomached at Putnam’s. However, I couldn’t shirk the gnawing thoughts.

  What if? What if he pushed me away because he was thinking about what he did that night? Am I falling for a boy who tried to rape me?

  Not Michael. Hadn’t I determined it wasn’t him? Reaffirming my verdict, he’d proven to be gentle and kind. I trust him.

  As far as girls were concerned, Michael had gone beyond experienced. He knew how to play the dating game. And I’m gullible. Isn’t that what he implied? Tomorrow, he’ll be dancing with Dee. Holding Dee. Kissing Dee. My chest heaved as bitter pangs took up residence in my heart.

  And, on Monday, I’ll have to stomach a step-by-step rerun from Dee. She’ll go to great pains and pleasure in rubbing my face into her night to remember.

  Switching off the light, I stepped into the hallway, and a scream strangled my throat as I came face to face with Mom.

  “Do you know what time it is?” Her hushed whisper was gravelly.

  “Not really.” Confessing would be suicidal.

  “It’s after one in the morning,” she informed. “Where were you, and where’s Stevie?”

  “Is it really that late?” I lied through my teeth. Michael would’ve revoked his “You wear your innocence like a glove” statement if he heard me now. “We were having fun playing games at Candy’s. Stevie left hours ago. He told me to tell you he’d be staying at a friend’s tonight.” In the subtle dimness, it was difficult to read her eyes, though I heard her disparaging, breezy sigh.

  “Thank God your father’s asleep.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Stevie dangled the keys in front of my face, tempting me with a driving lesson if I washed his car. Of course, I begged like a dog being offered a bone. Dad was always breaking his promises of taking me driving, and I needed more road time. My road test couldn’t come soon enough as far as I was concerned. It was a decent morning and a minor threat of precipitation hadn’t deterred Stevie from scraping the sludge from the wheel-wells of his car.

  I heard the stripping of gears moments before the red Volkswagen van chugged into the driveway. The song, “Sunshine of Your Love” by Cream overrode the blast of a backfire and tailing smoke.

  The rusty contraption came to a shuddering stop. Raven waved with both hands from behind the steering wheel, and a toothless Monty grinned from the passenger seat. The van doors wailed open with a burst of rust particles. Out stumbled Phoenix, Monty and Raven.

  “Hey, Mary,” Phoenix said, her ashy-blonde hair swept into a braid that trickled along her back.

  “Hey,” Stevie returned. “What’s happening?”

  “Nothing much.” Monty’s hair hung loose, and he flung it over his shoulder. “Wondering what’s your crawl today?”

  Phoenix seemed to float, her skirt billowing in her wake. In a fluid motion, her arm hooked Stevie’s neck, and her mouth touch downed on his. “Missed you, Steve.”

  Gag me.

  Stevie bent over and picked up the jacket he’d thrown to the ground earlier. “Bitch of a chill today.”

  “Why you washing the heap when it’s so cold?” Monty asked.

  “Had to get the summer grunge off before winter.” My brother’s face brightened with a lopsided grin.

  Raven sauntered around the car and gave the tire a sound thumping with her combat boots as if she was sizing it up. “Good looking piece of machinery, Steve.”

  “It’s a piece of junk,” I stated.

  Everybody’s heads swerved to me as if I’d said the unthinkable.

  “It’s our little sister, the pool shark,” Monty said as if I had been invisible and he was seeing me for the first time. “How you doing, kid?”

  “Good.”

  “Is Mikey taking you to the Homecoming dance?” asked Phoenix.

  Is she speaking to me? “I…um…I’m not going to the dance.” My brain pinged, pondering when and how she’d come up with that idea.

  “What made you ask that?” Stevie’s eyebrows went awry as he gazed at Phoenix.

  “I kind of have a sixth sense. Mikey likes Mary. Sounds cute, doesn’t it?” There was a charged pause. “Why else would Mikey bug me about dropping him back at the bar for his truck if not to get Mary?”

  Mikey likes Mary? My heart skyrocketed and detonated as if it was the Fourth of July.

  “That’s my sister you’re talking about.” In anger, Stevie’s cheeks turned splotchy pink. Then, he pointed his finger at me. “Covington’s too old for her.” He threw a debatable eyebrow quirk at Monty. “Did you know about this?”

  After the dazzling fireworks, I plummeted rather quickly.

  “Cool it, Steve.” Monty’s bulky arm teasingly looped my neck, and he dispensed a noogy on the top of my head. “Your sister’s sweet, man. Play’s a mean game of pool.”

  Phoenix kissed my brother again, conquering his anger and erasing any and all of his misconceptions.

  “You’re not really going to Homecoming tonight, are you?” Monty intruded on their frisking tongues as he continued to drape his arm over my neck as if I was his personal coat hanger. “Let’s take the girls to Niagara Falls instead.”

  “I broke it off with Candy.” Steve’s eyes parried mine while he cracked his knuckles. “The Falls it is.”

  “Maybe Mikey will come with us.” Raven ground her hips into Monty. “We’re leaving in the morning for Rochester, and then off to D.C. for the big peace rally. And—”

  “He’s going to the dance with Dee,” I reeducated them.

  Stevie threw a dismissive hand. “He can get out of that.”

  “Think Mikey will come to D.C. with us?” said Raven. “The main reason we came to Lancaster was to get him.”

  “I was blown away when I saw him playing football.” A rueful Phoenix swapped glances with Raven. “At Woodstock he was so torn and shattered.”

  “We took turns rocking him back to life.” Raven’s reminiscent and beaming smile abruptly turned dour. “He was done with football. He only played because his dad wanted him too, and now that he’s dead, Michael said he was through.”

  Michael had shared more than drugs and their bodies while at Woodstock.

  “Steve, I bet he’ll join us.” Phoenix fastened googly eyes on my brother.

  “You’re going?” I gawked at Stevie. “To…to the peace rally?”

  “I am.” He jabbed his thumb into his chest, and said, “This dude is finally taking a stand for peace. I feel like a pigeon just waiting to be flown into Nam. Think I want to go to war, Mary, and get blown to pieces and sent home in a box?”

  “That’s why you have to stay in school.”


  “I quit school.” He scoffed. “I don’t give a damn what Mom and Dad say, and I’m not going to work in any rat infested factory. I’m going on the road. Experience life.”

  “Yeah, man,” Monty said. “I graduated last year, and it didn’t add up to a pile of beans. So what’s the deal? Let’s hit the road.”

  Phoenix’s hand buffed Stevie’s arm, up and down, up and down. “We’re going to Rochester to get supplies and meet back here by the weekend,” she pledged before weaving her fingers into Stevie’s. “We’re driving to Washington, baby.”

  “I’m going to scrape my junk together.”

  Stevie gave Phoenix a more than friendly rap on her derriere—an action I didn’t want to see.

  “I’ll meet you guys later to go to the falls.”

  Still staggering from the information, I watched as they converged into the van. Phoenix took the driver’s seat, and when she revved the motor, the van belched inky smoke. She hitched up her shoulders while throwing her hands in the air as if she was apologizing for the noise and the pollution.

  “You can’t leave.” I verbally pounced on Stevie, seeking an excuse other than the draft. “I’ll miss you. Mom will cry, and so will Lucy.”

  Snubbing me, he snagged a rag from the hood of the car, so I tried another tactic.

  “You should talk things over with Candy. She still likes you.”

  “Candy’s great.” Stevie started polishing his car. “But she wants this steady thing. You know what I mean? And that’s not what I’m about.”

  “You can get drafted.” I knitted my fingers together in prayer.

  He stalled his polishing until his gaze met mine. “That’s the best reason to live a little. Don’t you think?” He gave me a sullen frown and commenced to polish his purple car.

  His deluded mindset sent a spark of panic to the marrow of my bones.

  With my chin dragging over the pavement, I slouched into the house. Is he right? What if I was going to be drafted? Wouldn’t I want to live life to the fullest before getting my head blown off? Probably.