by S. B. Niccum
“He wants to fly around the world,” I mumbled under my breath, but somehow, I was heard and all eyes turned on me, Alex’s included. But his look was not what I expected; he looked shocked and guarded. I shrugged and made a hopeless grimace, then left, my face burning with shame, and a chorus of laughter from Eugenia and her cronies.
“Sailing, flying, and deep sea diving with Alex—dream. School—real life,” I repeated to myself with reproach. “Please keep those two straight, or you’ll look insane!” I thought, while in the distance I could still hear Genie’s forced laughter over my unsolicited, ridiculous comment.
Chapter 4
As I stood in the pouring rain and stared into the empty parking lot I could think of nothing but my own idiocy. How could I have forgotten that Wes could not give me a ride tonight? How could it have slipped my mind all together until this very moment … when it was infinitely too late? After a meet, I usually get a ride home with Wes, but earlier in the week he had told me that he wouldn’t be able to this time.
The whole place had cleared out faster than I could have imagined; and I was left standing alone in the shadows of the parking lot as the last of the staff closed up the building. I felt dumb asking them for a ride, so I ventured out and started walking, not too sure where I was headed. As my luck would have it, it started to rain; not just a little—a lot—in sheets and sheets like a waterfall. I was soaked in minutes and felt as awful as I looked. I walked in the direction where the most streetlights were and regretted not asking someone for a ride. What was wrong with me? Why did I just let a building full of people leave me stranded here?
I had no idea how to get home. Calling Charlotte at this point would be suicidal, but so would be to venture these unknown streets on my own. I had no idea where I was, and being as terrible as I am with directions, I had no idea how to tell her to get here. She would have to look up on the website to see where tonight’s meet was and she would not be happy about having to go this extra mile for me.
Under the merciless rain, I got to the intersection and looked both ways. This part of town looked like an industrial area with large parking lots and no people. In the distance I could see the lights of a gas station so I took off running toward it. Once inside, I asked for the phone. The attendant looked at me shrewdly and was sizing me up in an unsettling manner. I dialed, the phone rang and Agatha answered. I told her to put Charlotte on the phone but she said that Charlotte was out and then hung up.
“Can I make another call?” I asked the attendant, who was blatantly staring and swishing a bulk of tobacco from one side of his bottom lip to the other. The glint in his eyes made me feel uneasy, so I did my best to not look so pathetic and tried to appear to be in control.
“This ain’t prison,” he responded as he spit some tobacco in a cup and wiped a trickle of dark spit from his chin, with the back of his hand.
I stared at him uncomprehending.
“You get more than one call. … Provided they be local,” he added and grinned, exposing his slimy yellow teeth with bits of chew stuck to them.
I called again, but this time the phone rang and rang with no answer so I knew that Agatha must have disconnected the jack. I stopped trying that venue, and tried Joe’s cell phone instead, but it went to voicemail. At night he worked as a janitor for some office buildings downtown, and would, most likely not hear me over the noise of his vacuum.
As I started out of the gas station, the guy working there asked me if I needed anything else. I told him I didn’t, and walked away. A shiver went through me as I stepped back out into the rain. I debated going back in, but I could feel the attendant’s eyes still trained on me, making me uncomfortable. However, the lonely street and the zooming cars didn’t seem to offer any more comfort. This was indeed a pickle if I'd ever been in one. No. A pickle would have been earlier, at the aquatic center, while there were normal people around. This was no longer a pickle, or a jam, or even a quandary, this was a full life and death situation that I couldn’t fix on my own.
As I let this last thought sink in, a tear slid down my wet cheek and I started to get cold and felt attacked by all kinds of fears and what if’s. Would I become another picture on a mailer of missing and abducted children? Who would turn Heaven and Hell to find me? Who would hang pictures of me in the streets and who would insist on talking to the media, offering a reward for me? No one. Right then an unspeakable feeling of worthlessness invaded me, followed by the miserable thought that always lingered in the back of my mind—that I was all alone and no one cared for me. Anguish ripped through my frame and I started to shake uncontrollably, but I walked on. In the distance I saw a bus bench and as I walked toward it, I once again entered one of those weird reveries of mine.
I walked and shivered, as if I were in a dream. Part of me felt detached, and part of me was still very aware of my perilous situation, but I felt destined for this. Was this to be a turning point in my life?
My tears were now mingled with the rain. I was soaked, cold, and shaking so much that my muscles ached. The rain was loud, but I could swear I heard whispers. I turned and saw nothing. I reached the bus bench, sat down listlessly, pulled my legs up to my chest and wept bitterly. Cars drove by and I felt like they were slowing down to look at me. I didn’t want to think of what could happen to me if someone… instead I cried even harder, giving full sway to my wretchedness and the flood of emotions I held inside. It was now my turn to have a meltdown; unfortunately Dorian was not here to help me out.
I was glad that the pelting of the rain was loud and covered up my wailing; yet now and then I could swear that I heard zooming sounds … or voices—not loud—more like hisses and murmurs. I turned around and found no one there. “No … ” I groaned, “not those voices! I can’t hear those voices!” I was either crazy or highly imaginative, but every now and then, I’d swear I heard voices. Not in my head, but real audible murmurs that whizzed past me like a gust of wind.
In my anguish and fear, my thoughts oddly turned to Alex. I’m not sure why or what exactly I thought about; I just thought of him and a pleading escaped my lips. “Help me, please!”
A low cloud clung to the ground, and stayed there disturbed only by the sporadic passing cars. “Tessss … sss … Tesss … “ I turned again, recognizing the fact that this time I heard my name, and still nothing—or rather, no one was there. My skin bristled and an awful empty feeling gripped my stomach. I couldn’t stop the shaking, and my teeth clattered in spite of my efforts to stop them. Help of the helpless, Lord, abide with me … The words from the hymn that was sung at Charlotte’s church came to mind. I repeated that verse over and over in my head like a prayer—hoping to get rid of that awful taunting feeling—but instead it laughed. I rocked back and forth in the fetal position like Dorian and the hiss mocked me, and reaffirmed my misgivings about my situation.
Behind my closed eyelids I could see the glare of a car’s high beams. Several cars had driven by, but this one stopped. My heart started pounding even faster; I shook from head to foot and I could feel a fruitless scream building up inside of me, one that I would let out, but would go unheard. I didn’t want to see who it was; I wanted to pretend that this was not happening that it was all a nightmare. I tried not to think of what would happen to me now; I tried to ignore the voices, but they got louder and louder. Soon I’d be forgotten and become a sad statistic. How long will the nightmare take? I would have to run for it. “That’s my last recourse,” I thought.
“Tess?”
I heard his voice but I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, so I didn’t answer. Instead I kept rocking back and forth, like Dorian does. “Runnn …” the vicious hiss sounded in my ear. I thought perhaps I should do just that, but I couldn’t get my legs to move. Then I heard a car door slam and the roar of an idle engine, then footsteps coming closer. I instinctively jerked back when I felt a human presence near me.
“Tess … it’s me, Alex.”
“Run, Tesss … run!” the
taunting voice dared me. But instead of listening to it, I raised my head up above my knees just enough to see who was in front of me, and I saw him. It was really him in the flesh, standing there with an outstretched hand! Without thinking twice I threw myself into his chest, and wrapped my arms around his neck. He held me tight and tried to soothe me. After a few minutes, he gently pulled my hair back and pressed his cheek against mine. “You’re Okay, Tess … you are safe now,” he whispered in my ear and stroked my hair.
Slowly I stopped shaking and I willed my jaw to relax. He scooped me up like a baby and carried me to his car. I didn’t want to release him, but I had to in order to get into his Jeep. I was still shivering and tears still streamed down my face. I didn’t want to look into his eyes for fear of crying some more, but I knew that he was inspecting me, looking for outward signs of abuse.
“What are you doing here, Tess?” he asked with concern. “Did—did something or someone … ”
“No,” I told him evenly, to make sure he knew I wasn’t lying. “I had a swim meet nearby and I forgot to get a ride back.”
He looked at me for another long while and then looked around to make sure there really were no bad guys to chase away. He was completely drenched by now, but didn’t seem to notice.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
I nodded.
“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked after another long pause.
I looked up at him, surprised at him for not rebuking me in any way for being such an idiot. “No.” I shook my head and noticed for the first time how empty my stomach really was.
“Good! I haven’t either and I know just where two wet and hungry people can go to dinner at this hour,” he smiled ruefully. He leaned in, strapped my seatbelt on, then shut the door. He took one last look around before he came around and got in. He was about to put the jeep in gear, when he stopped and turned toward me, placing one hand over mine. “Why didn’t you call someone?”
“I tried,” I said miserably, turning to face him. His eyes were intent on mine as he mulled something over in his mind. He seemed puzzled about something, I narrowed my eyes questioningly and something passed between us.
For a split second I felt like I had looked into his eyes, this way for eons. I felt a closeness to him that seemed to transcend time and space, if that were possible. His hand tightened around mine and I knew that he felt that timeless familiarity as well. I could see it in his eyes, but this strange exchange only seemed to add to the confusion he already felt, so he brushed off his stupor and dismissed the thought.
“You know,” he said as he released my hand and put the Jeep in gear. “I was on my way home from my dad’s office downtown.” When I didn’t respond, he shot a questioning look my way. Was this comment supposed to mean something to me? Perhaps he didn’t know how terrible I was with directions.
“Oh yeah? Well I don’t even know where I am. I’m awful with directions; I mean … I get lost inside our school.” He laughed out loud and it was music in my ears.
He proceeded to ask me all kinds of questions about how I had gotten there in the first place and why Agatha or Charlotte wouldn’t help me. He seemed to want to settle something in his head, but the crease between his eyes told me he couldn’t.
“It’s a miracle that you found me at all.”
“It is,” he said, and turned to look at me again with something like awe in his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“It’s weird you know. I never come this way—never—but I did tonight.”
An involuntary chill ran through my body, and by the looks of it, another chill went through his as well. I wanted to reach over and hug him, but I had to settle with hugging my own cold torso. He turned up the heater and patted my knee. Oh how I loved him! This was no crush…I loved him! My whole body and soul told me so, and he had a stupid girlfriend. Stealing boyfriends away from others seemed like something that I wouldn’t stoop to doing; and even if I could do it, there were no guarantees that Alex would fall for someone like me. He was gorgeous, rich, popular, and normal—I was not.
He drove us to his grandfather’s house, who lived alone in a small house. He received us warmly and quite unconcerned about the whole situation. It was as if this kind of thing happened to him all the time.
Alex called his grandfather “Admiral” because he was a retired Navy Admiral. He was a large, corpulent man who looked like he had been very strong his whole life, but now limped a little, and had lost some of his muscle weight. He was a widower; he had lost his wife to cancer five years ago.
“Tess, you say? What a fine name, were you named after someone in particular?” The Admiral asked.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, and Alex wrapped a dry blanket around my shoulders. “I don’t remember anything about my parents. I don’t even know if I’m an orphan.”
“Really?” the Admiral said with interest then he looked at Alex. “Son, you both need dry clothes. Why don’t you go get some of Katie’s clothes so Tess can change? You should go change too.” He then turned to me. “We’ll stick your clothes in the dryer and have you back to yourself in no time.”
At times like these I was glad that my hair was straight and easy to manage. I brushed it out a few time and left it down, so it could dry faster. Thanks to swimming, I had all my toiletries in my backpack, so I was able to apply some cover-up under my puffy eyes. I hardly ever wore makeup, and I thought I would overdo it if I went for it now. So after I changed into Katie’s dry clothes, I checked my overall appearance one last time in the mirror and called it sufficient.
Katie was Alex’s sister and she was a year younger than me. She was tall for her age and I was probably a little short, so we were about the same size, and her clothes fit me well.
When I came out of the bathroom, I was greeted by the best smell ever! I didn’t even know what it was, but it smelled good, and my stomach gave a lurch.
“How do you like your steak, Tess?” Alex yelled from the kitchen casually, as if he had done it a hundred times. My hungry stomach now had butterflies and my heart skipped a beat. He popped his head around the corner and looked at me expectantly. “Rare, medium, or well?”
I shrugged, “Medium, I guess.” No one had ever asked me that question before, and I had no idea what he was talking about. At Charlotte’s dinner comes out of a box or the microwave and more likely than not, I’m the one making it for Dorian and I.
He seemed to understand my puzzled look and yelled, “medium!” to his grandfather. “Charlotte doesn’t cook steak?”
I snorted and left it at that.
He took my hand, led me to the living room and sat me on the couch. He grabbed an old hand knitted blanket and wrapped me in it like a mummy. I couldn’t help but laugh at his over protective efforts; no one had ever done that much for me in my life! I felt kind of strange, but thought that I could certainly get used to this type of treatment.
“What about you? You got wet too,” I pointed out.
“Not as long as you did.” Then he looked at me intently and I turned red. He smiled, understanding my feelings and tried to change the subject. He was sitting directly in front of me on the coffee table; then he reached down and grabbed one of my bare feet. My eyes almost popped out of their sockets and I was rewarded with those dimples that formed on his face when he smiled.
“May I?” he asked politely. “Your feet are icy cold, I’ll warm them up.”
From the kitchen we could hear the Admiral whistling an old tune that sounded vaguely familiar. My interest must have shown on my face because Alex asked me what I was thinking.
“That song … it sounds familiar.”
“It does?”
He was right, my feet were cold and his warm hands brought the circulation back to my toes. But that melody … it was bothering me. I had heard it before. Then it dawned on me, Dorian and I had heard a radio concert, paying homage to an Irish singer.
“Estelle!” I said, finally remembering the
famous song and the singer’s story. She had been the nanny of two opera singers. When her employers realized that she could sing, they trained her. Her voice was not cut out for opera, but they helped her get her start as a Celtic singer.
Alex had stopped rubbing my feet and was looking at me with astonishment.
“I listen to a lot of Classical music. Dorian … my foster brother … he has to listen to this show on the radio every night,” I explained. “They feature mostly classical music composers, but every now and then they’ll feature someone else. There was a segment one night, on Celtic music, and they featured a singer named Estelle. Her voice was so captivating, so clear. I wrote her name down and then bought some of her songs. Her voice reminds me of—of—” What did her voice remind me of?
By now the Admiral had stopped his whistling and was looking at me just as astonished as Alex was.
“What? Did I say something wrong?” I asked.
“Heaven. Her voice is just like an Angel’s,” the Admiral finished.
“Yes … I guess so.” I shrugged, a little uncomfortable by the looks on their faces.
“Here, I want to show you something.” Alex extended a hand to me as he rose. I took it with delight and noticed how he didn’t let go of it once I was on my feet.
He led me to a wall in the living room that was filled with framed pictures. “This is Estelle,” he said pointing to a portrait of a beautiful redhead with milky skin and dark brown eyes.
I stared at her for a long while; she looked so beautiful, so vulnerable, and so … familiar. I couldn’t get my eyes off her, and Alex noticed this with curiosity.
“She was my great grandmother.” Alex’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Really?” I turned to face him, not realizing how close to me he was. This sent my mind into a whirl and I felt a little dizzy. His hand was still holding mine, and he tightened the hold on it. I had the most intense desire to kiss him. I don’t know if I got closer, or if he did, but we were fractions away from each other, when we heard the Admiral call us from the kitchen. We both jolted back a little and he released my hand. He then placed the palm of his hand on my back and led me to the kitchen. He pulled a chair out for me, I sat down, and he pushed me in a little—another first for me.