by T. I. Lowe
Mr. Wayne lives a street over from the little lady and is an avid gardener as well. He pretends to be a grouch, but I know better. He smiles a lot when he thinks no one’s watching. But I’m always watching. Always looking for a story or glimpse of something to inspire my words. I like to create different worlds for people other than the ones they live. Mr. Wayne has starred as a ruthless secret agent, unearthing a hidden supply of nuclear weapons buried in the bottom of the lake. He has also starred as a fun-loving drug smuggler, stockpiling his stash throughout his garden and only cultivates in the middle of the night. Don’t ask me where this junk comes from. I guess it’s my way of taking a break from reality. I could take you around the entire trailer park and tell a tale I’ve created for each resident. Okay, guess I got off the subject a bit…
Mr. Wayne privately competes with Ms. Raveena to see who can grow the best flowers. I secretly like the little lady’s the best. She has lots of vibrant colors throughout her yard. The feeling you get from walking around the small, lush space is fun and whimsy. Mr. Wayne leans towards a more subdued color palette. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a really slamming yard too. It’s more tranquil. So anyway, the boys promised to Kool Seal Mr. Wayne’s roof in exchange for some of his top-secret fertilizer.
The rest of us strolled up to the rear of the sheds to see Kyle and Max’s progress the day they received their allotment of fertilizer. They were scooping handfuls of the black mixture into the beds and mixing it throughout the soil as Mr. Wayne had instructed. Just let me tell you, the stench coming off those two boys and the garden beds was the funkiest stink I have ever smelled. It was so bad that we quickly retreated because we couldn’t stop gagging. Later they had joined us by the lakeshore, but they reeked from the fertilizer so bad, I demanded they take a dip in the lake. They reemerged still stinking to high heavens, so we took them over to the maintenance shed and doused them down with diluted bleach before hosing them down. Needless to say, their clothes had to be tossed. Come to find out the top-secret fertilizer was a combination of cow manure and fish guts that had been decomposing for a while. I nearly gag just thinking about it. That was one heck of a stink.
The boys became the butt of many a joke that summer. Kyle earned the nickname fish-face, and Max was called heifer after that incident.
After Mother Nature carried off the stench from the makeshift garden beds, the boys were antsy to plant. The problem was they had nothing to plant, so we struck out on our bikes and pedaled over to the Shimmer Lakes Farm and begged the owner for some spare seeds. He told us we were welcome to walk the freshly planted rows and take any stray seed on top of the ground. He had looked at Max and Mave sternly and said if he saw dirt caked up to their knuckles from digging, we would have to return all the seeds we found. Their shoulders drooped a bit from the warning, but they reluctantly agreed. It was the only shot we had to get seeds, so everyone kept reminding the twins of that as we hunted. We looked at it as another treasure hunt and searched the rows all afternoon until we had a prize of various seeds. We sorted the seeds, planting the ones that looked similar together and impatiently waited to see what the mystery garden would produce.
Six weeks later we were blessed with a bounty of vegetables – cucumbers, squash, green beans, okra, and plenty more. The tomatoes were so juicy and plump, we would eat them like apples right off the vines. Kyle was over the moon when the first signs of watermelons began to form off one plant. That was his favorite. It was more vegetables than we knew what to do with, so the boys left small bags of produce on everyone’s porches throughout that summer. I guess that top-secret fertilizer was worth its weight in stench. It was the only year we had a garden. The following summer everyone thought they were too old and too cool for such. It’s still one of my favorite treasure hunt memories, though.
I’m rummaging through a bin filled with an assortment of trinkets when Dillon eases behind me and wraps his arms around me. “Find any treasure yet?” I ask as I lean into him and snuggle into his warm embrace.
He places a kiss on top of my head. “Yep.” He hugs me a bit tighter. “She’s right here in my arms.”
I turn to face him and can’t help but smile. What girl wouldn’t want to be called someone’s treasure, right? His dimples are on full display, and I lightly touch my fingertips to them. “I think I’ve found my treasure too,” I whisper before leaning forward and placing delicate kisses over each dimple. “My Dimples.”
“And always my Jewel,” he murmurs before kissing me sweetly.
Dillon still serenades the trailer park each night, but it’s later now. He always crawls through my window, and we sit on the floor by the bed and whisper about what future we want together. I know we are too young to have such conversations. But when you live the way we live, your future dreams are all you have. Getting wrapped up in the planning of the future has become our nightly routine.
Dillon says his quest is to become a rock star, and I know deep down he will be. My wish is to someday write a book. Sadly, I know deep down my wish won’t be coming true. My ties are too tethered to this place. And Kyle is my responsibility more than anything. I feel somewhat the same for him as Cora does for Dillon. I want Kyle to have a chance at a better life, so my life may have to be placed on the backburner to make sure he gets a shot at it.
Dillon and I spend every waking moment together during this momentous fall. That’s nothing new. We’ve done that for years. But now it’s more of just him and me without the rest of the crowd. We find excuses to be alone, and no one seems to be paying us any attention. So we’re either hiding out under our willow tree with him composing endless amounts of music or plundering around the sheds. It’s like our eyes have just opened to one another for the first time in such a way that we can’t get enough of each other. We gravitate towards each other more than ever before.
We’ve always had a way of silently communicating with one another. But now our wordless conversations carry a different and more intimate message than before. I can be watching the band practice, and all Dillon has to do is give me a certain look and I know what he’s thinking about. His silent messages whisper about love, hope, and excitement. It’s a promise of great things to come. I’m beginning to hope that dreams are attainable.
Chapter Six
I should have known better.
I should have known that no matter how hard I fell in love with him, Dillon Bleu was an exciting and awesome human who was unattainable. Sure we pulled it off for a while, but…
“Five. Four. Three. Two. One…”
“Happy New Years!” The crowd cheers, but I don’t join in. I have a huge lump that is lodged in my throat, and no matter how hard I swallow, it won’t go away.
I watch Dillon and the rest of Bleu Streak light up the stage for another round of songs as couples finish up their celebratory kisses. I’m in a corner of the Lakeside Music Hall, alone, as he begins to serenade this rich crowd with a song I wrote for him. It speaks of first loves and attainable hopes and dreams. Unexpected tears are sliding down my face, and all I want to do is go home, but I promised to stay.
My time with Dillon Bleu has run out. The clock had been ticking down rapidly and I had chosen to ignore it. I knew it was coming. I just had no idea how fast it would happen. I know he and the band feel like they’ve been waiting a lifetime for this opportunity to present itself. But I had been holding my breath in the hopes it wouldn’t happen so soon.
Dillon is making his dreams into plans, plans that take flight after this very gig. He’s leaving me as I knew he would, but naively hoped it wouldn’t be so quickly. Trace got up with some guy out in California and got Bleu Streak in on an opening act contest. The winner will get to tour with some pretty cool rock bands for the next year. I know deep down whom that band will be, and I also know that once they pull out in a little while, they won’t be coming back. Who could blame them, really?
I swipe away the tears, but more trickle out to replace them. Dillon has just begun playing the
melody of his promise of a song. He’s looking directly at me as he smoothly croons the lyrics into the microphone. It’s the first time I’ve heard them and now I’m crying so hard I can barely see him.
My Jewel, my life
You’re my night and you’re my day
You’ll always be with me
Even though that’s still too far away
You don’t see you the way I do
Such a treasure
Such a jewel
I want you now and I want you always
Just a little while, my love
Just a little while
Give me just a little while…
He continues to sing some more, but I make for the door. This hurts too much. He’s just a boy, making promises to me in those lyrics. And there’s no way he can keep them. I make it to my car and slump over the steering wheel.
Moments later, Kyle is yanking the passenger car door open and slumping in the seat beside me. He slams the door shut and faces me with confused anger. He stares me down, waiting for something, but I don’t say anything.
“You want to tell me what in the heck that’s all about?” He waves back towards the building.
Okay, so heads up, me and Dillon have kept our new relationship just between us. I didn’t want Kyle upset over it, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag now. Dillon singing that song was sort of an announcement too. I’m guessing he thought he was safe on stage, away from my brother.
“I’m going to kill him!” Kyle slams his fist on the dashboard.
“Just calm down. What’s your problem?” I rub my temples and try to ease the headache that is pounding there from crying.
“He’s like a brother to us, Jillian.” Kyle’s staring out the window. He takes several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is low and I have to strain to hear him. “You knew he would be leaving.”
This declaration causes the tears to pick back up again. I cry as Kyle reaches over the console and wraps his arm around me.
“This is why I want to kill him,” he says, but there’s no fire to the words this time. Just pity.
It’s two in the morning when I see Dillon finally gliding through the Music Hall doors. Kyle hasn’t left me since I fell apart. Kyle sees him too, and before I know to react, my brother is out of the car and tackling Dillon in the parking lot. I jump out screaming at him to stop, but it doesn’t help. Trace and Mave are there in a flash, pulling Kyle off of Dillon.
“Stop it now, Kyle! You’re gonna get your butt arrested!” I’m about to push between them, but Logan pulls me back.
“Watch yourself, little lady. Let the guys handle this,” Logan says coolly, ticking me off. Logan Carter looks like a hot younger version of Lenny Kravitz and speaks just as smoothly as him too. He emits a cool vibe. Bet you wouldn’t guess he’s from the other side of the lake. Yep. Rich boy, but never does he let on about it. He drapes his arm around my shoulder as he casually watches these two guys go at each other as though it’s the most ordinary thing. Nothing seems to bother this dude. Boy, has it been one of those nights. We stand there and watch as they all wrestle around some more. Kyle grunts out all kinds of not-nice words as he lets out his frustration.
It takes a several long minutes before Trace and Mave can manage to break it up. Both boys have been pulled to their feet, with Trace standing in front of Dillon and Mave holding Kyle back. Both are rumpled and breathing heavy. Dillon has a small split on his bottom lip that is trickling blood, but I see no other damage. Kyle has no visible signs of the fight, and I’m pretty sure Dillon didn’t even swing at him. He just went on the defense.
“How could you, man?” Kyle asks. “You’re like my brother, dude!”
Dillon pushes Mave out the way and grabs Kyle up in a fierce hug, shocking the whole lot of us. I wait for Kyle to fight him off, but my brother actually starts crying and hugs him back. I realize in this moment that maybe this is more about Kyle’s disappointment in Dillon leaving him than what’s going on between Dillon and me. Those two have been attached at the hip since preschool, right along with the twins. He is losing the whole bunch in one quick swoop, just as I am. This thought makes me cry some more. We’ve practically lived together all of our lives. The rest of the band seems to understand the privacy of the moment, so they head over to Trace’s van and begin loading up the equipment.
“I love her, Kyle,” Dillon whispers as he still embraces him. “I love you too. You are my family.”
“Then why do this?” My poor brother sounds so broken.
“I’ve got to, man.” Dillon steps back and beckons me to him. “I’ve got to give this a fair shot. Music is all I know. I just feel like it’s now or never. I have to go.” He wraps his arm around me. “I’ll be back. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises, dude.” Kyle pulls away and walks over to open the passenger door and climbs in the back of the car. We follow suit, and I drive us home in silence. Really, what else is there to say? Dillon deserves this shot. Being from our trailer-park background, there’s not many of those that come along. I want him to follow his dreams. I don’t want to hold him back, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt. It feels like someone has ripped my heart out. My stomach aches and my throat stings with the pain of knowing he is leaving me.
I park and we all head in. Kyle goes straight to his room and Dillon follows me to mine. We only have about an hour before the band plans on pulling out, and all I want to do in that time is have him hold me.
Dillon lies on his side and I nestle into him and run my hands under his shirt over his upper back. My fingers glide over the subtle outlines of his tattoo as I try to memorize the feel of it. “Can I see it again?” I ask. He sits up without hesitation and tosses his shirt on the floor.
He was in my room, just like tonight, last week. On Christmas night, no less. Aunt Evie had cooked us a delicious feast, and after Cora and the twins left, Dillon stayed to hang out with me. It was a slim Christmas, with everyone declaring the meal and each other’s company to be gift enough. We put our small artificial tree up and draped it with silver tinsel and brightly-colored twinkling lights. But no gifts were placed underneath. This wasn’t the first Christmas we had with no gifts, but those ones always sting a bit. I hated not being able to give my loved ones tokens of my affection to show them how much they mean to me.
Dillon and I huddled in my room, and after snuggling together for a while, he chased the disappointment away and had replaced it with contentment. I told myself, as we lay on my small bed, that if I could keep him I didn’t need anything else. I should have known better. I should have known I couldn’t keep him, no matter how badly I wanted.
We were kissing and holding each other, when he unexpectedly pulled his shirt off. This surprised me at first, and I began muttering nervously that I wasn’t ready to move any further, but he shook his head and turned around so that he could reveal his new tattoo to me. I sat up in shock when I saw that it was elegant lettering just above his right shoulder blade. The sleek black ink declared, My Jewel, and was surrounded by subtle designs with emeralds embedded that looked so realistic. He’s always said my eyes look like emerald jewels, hence my nickname. I couldn’t believe he would actually brand my name on him permanently. That is a pretty strong commitment, and I hope he won’t live to regret that decision. It was the best gift I had ever received on Christmas. Or so it was until he spoke.
“It’s another promise, Jewels,” he had whispered as he peeped over his shoulder to gauge my reaction. “You’re mine, and I will be back.” And this was the point where he simultaneously broke the news to me and my heart of his departure, leaving me stunned. I couldn’t muster another word to him that night. I just nodded my head or shook it as he explained the once in a lifetime opportunity that just happened to be all the long way in California. The guys couldn’t possibly get any farther away. Or that’s what I naively thought, until he explained the potential of the tour going international. That
was the point where I knew, beyond knowing, that I had lost him, whether he was willing to admit it or not. Dillon had asked me to say something, but all I could do was shake my head in a daze of disbelief and disappointment.
We have just begun a new chapter in our young story together. A story I was so excited to see develop into what I had genuinely believed would be our happily-ever-after. And it was ending way before a good love story should. So yeah, I’m awfully disappointed.
I’ve had only a week to prepare for this moment and I’m still not ready. I guide my lips slowly over each letter and try to memorize the feel of his skin and the smell of him. I repeat this gesture over each letter until Dillon becomes restless. He seems to not be able to restrain himself any longer, so he turns and tugs me into his lap and kisses me, and then kisses me some more. I can taste the metallic tang of his blood from the cut on my tongue as our lips crash together, but I don’t care. It won’t stop me from having these last kisses. Who knows how long it will be before I receive anymore, if ever again. I’m not a dumb girl. I know life can push you into a lot of changing. Things change. People change. And feelings can change. Everything can be so fickle.
“I’m so proud of you.” I murmur the words across his lips, not wanting to break the connection. “You got this,” I encourage. I promise myself no more tears until he is gone. I want him to not leave here burdened by it, but free. Free to take flight and live his dreams. I hold onto his heated skin for dear life, not wanting to break this fragile bond.
He holds me until Max and Mave show up at my window and demand he comes out. “Dude, the sun will be coming up soon. We gotta bounce on outta here.” I hear the excitement in Max’s voice. Those boys get a chance at a better life, too. I’m trying really hard to be happy for them all and not be jealous. It’s not an easy feat.
“Five more minutes. Now get outta here or it’s gonna be ten,” Dillon says.