by Chris Keane
Angie called down to him from a plateau, “Come on! Do something!”
Dante looked up. With the sun blasting his eyes, it was tough to see her. He peered down, noticing an array of sharp slate rocks pointing back at him.
“Can’t!” He finally replied.
“Guess you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
Dante laughed. It was a dumb joke, but at least it relaxed him a bit. He inched his way upward. His hands were shaking and his stomach felt like lead, but he tried to focus on anything else. He pictured Angie greeting him at the top with a wet kiss, just like in his dream. Then, all of a sudden, he was sliding down the slate, totally out of control.
His body scraped and grinded downward no matter how much he clawed at the rock to break his momentum. In fact, he kept picking up speed. He kicked and clawed like a madman until, finally, he hit the ground.
Dante lay there moaning, blood dripping down his face. His hands were skinned. The only lucky thing was that his head had landed on a bush instead of splitting open on one of the jagged rocks. But his ankle was throbbing with excruciating pain. And the rest of his body felt as if a swarm of yellow jackets had stung him simultaneously.
He looked up and Angie was standing in front of him. She put her hand on his forehead and said, “You’re going to be okay. Just relax.” With a soft cloth, she cleaned the blood on his face. “I’m so sorry,”
She helped him lie down on a flat part of the ground and tended to his various scrapes and cuts. He couldn’t help screaming as she applied pressure and coated him with various ointments. Once she was fully satisfied, she gingerly wrapped his ankle with a white linen cloth and placed her hands on his temples, gently massaging them with her fingertips. A soothing calm came over him, and his breathing slowed.
At some point, he had fallen asleep. Based on the brighter sunlight, Dante figured he had been out at least an hour. He looked up to find Angie watching him, her eyes full of warmth. Not wanting the moment to end, Dante lay there a moment longer before sitting up and saying, “I’m okay. We can head back now.” Angie took his hand and slowly guided him out of the woods.
6
call me
Dante cut across an abandoned Texaco parking lot and ducked into a phone booth. Behind the silver, accordion-like door, it was beyond claustrophobic. Dante wondered if the human race had mutated into a taller, wider size since the Seventies from all the nuclear testing that had occurred during the Cold War. Or maybe, he had just seen too many sci-fi films.
He handled the heavy black receiver, half expecting some cranky old operator to pick up. Instead, he heard the most beautiful sound ever: a dial tone. The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity until the raspy, hung-over voice of his brother crackled through the wire, “Hello?”
“You asshole!” Dante screamed.
“Still pissed, huh?” Kurt asked, chuckling. “What number are you calling from?”
“I’m at a fucking pay phone!”
“Oh, Dainty. It’s worse than I thought…you’re totally melting down.”
“You have no clue what’s going on up here! Gram fell and she can’t remember shit half the time. Then she passed out, and I had to drive her old shit-box to the doctor’s. She probably would have croaked, dude!”
“Yeah, that’s a tough draw.”
“Have you heard from them?”
“Not a thing.”
“Shit. Who knows how long they’ll be gone, or if they’ll even come back?”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
“This is so typical. You fucking things up, and me paying for it.”
“Dainty, can you hear that?”
“No. What?”
“It’s the sound of the world’s smallest violin playing just for you.”
“Very funny. I can’t believe I was dumb enough to call you for help.”
“Listen, I can see why you’re so pissed off. But it’s mom and dad, not me. They’re the assholes.”
“Trust me I have plenty of choice words for them too.”
Dante heard some voices in the background, and then a couple of minutes later, Kurt started speaking again. “Hey, I gotta jet. You need cash?”
“Nah. There’s really no place to spend it up here.”
“Okay. Let me know if things get worse with Gram. I’m checking out this room I saw for rent. Then I got a date with Lesley. OUT!”
“Hold up, hold up a minute.”
“What?” Kurt replied gruffly.
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Yeah?”
“There’s this girl up here.”
“You scallywag!” Kurt bellowed.
“Yeah, she’s amazing…totally hot, and totally cool.”
“What’s she doing with your lame ass? Other than her major population problem.”
“We hung out once, went on a hike.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing…yet.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Thanks, but I think she’s the one.”
Kurt sighed. “Sure. She might flash you some pity titty, but that’s about it.”
Dante slammed down the phone, feeling worse than before. Shit. Shit. Shit. He had been suffering from a bad-date hangover ever since the infamous hike, and he desperately needed a confidence boost. That was not coming from Kurt in this lifetime.
During the entire walk home, Dante replayed the date in his mind looking for some sign that she was interested. But Angie had practically carried him home with blood and puss oozing from his body. His body shuddered, thinking about how Date Two could turn out — if there was a Date Two. No doubt the only highlight had been the cold spring they had jumped in. He figured he would go for something along those lines next time. Besides, the water was a lot softer than those jagged slate rocks that had nearly impaled him on their hike. Maybe he could arrange a visit to the lake where he had spotted her in the first place. Things had to be perfect.
Dante sat on the edge of the bed, scouring the massive music collection on his laptop. He rocked back and forth tapping away at the keyboard as he crafted a masterpiece, the soundtrack to his second date. Cold Play? They always give off a hip, optimistic vibe. Rihanna! Her music was wild, out of control, sexy. At last, he scanned the playlist for Adele’s 21, which he had been listening to way too much. They all made the cut.
Dante was slightly concerned that some of the tracks on the mix seemed a little heavy for a second date. But other than that he was feeling pretty confident his song selection. He fished out the portable speakers from his duffle bag and headed to the kitchen to see what food he could scrounge up.
Gram was in the kitchen, hunched over the counter chopping some vegetables. She looked like a pale shell of the image he had been carrying around in his head for the last few years. The more he saw her, the more he realized that the years were finally catching up with her.
“You okay, Gram?”
“Good God! What happened to you?”
“Just some cuts and scrapes from the woods.”
“You look just awful. Let me make you some lunch.”
“Um, can you make that to go? I’m heading over to the lake.”
Gram’s expression dimmed. “Sure thing, dear.”
“And do can you tell me where the spare batteries are at?”
“Check the linen closet,” she replied.
“Ok. Gotta go,” Dante replied, curtly.
The pile of gear on the foot of Gram’s driveway reminded Dante of the hordes of beachgoers who invaded the Jersey Shore each summer. Without fail, they hogged up the sand with their massive collection of beach paraphernalia — coolers, chairs, sports gear. For three lousy months, they paraded around wearing wide-brimmed hats and mirror-tinted shades with globs of lotion pasted on their noses. Dante had always despised the sight of them, but now he realized they just wanted to be prepared for anything.
He carefully walked up to Angie’s f
ront door, set his stuff down on the stairs, and knocked. The office was technically closed on Sundays, but she answered the front door promptly.
“Oh, hey.”
“Hey. You off today?”
“Yeah, sort of, but I’ve got a shit-ton of insurance papers to file for my dad.”
“Well, I’m heading to the lake.”
“I can see that,” she said, raising her eyebrows at the massive pile of equipment he had in tow.
“Thought you may want to come along,” he said shakily.
“Yeah, I would, but there’s just too much to do. Sorry.”
Dante’s lowered his head and retreated off the deck, leaving behind his things.
“Wait,” she called, “Don’t you need your gear?”
“Yeah, of course,” Dante replied bashfully. As he grabbed his things to go, he took one last look at Angie’s angelic face glistening in the noon sun. “Hold on a second,” he mumbled.
“Yeah?” She asked, flatly.
“I’ve got something for you. It was for the picnic — I mean the lake — but maybe you could listen to it while you work.”
He pulled out a CD case labeled “Lakeside Tunes” from his bag.
“You made me a mix tape?”
“Um...yeah, I guess.”
“That’s so FREAKING ADORABLE! Tell you what? If I get done early, I’ll swing by.”
Dante lay out by the lake on a blanket in almost the exact spot he had first seen Angie. Things had come full circle. There was no doubt that he had come a long way since he had first arrived at Gram’s last week. A dream had become a possibility, and now it was moving closer to a reality. But he wagered he needed to make a move fast or risk being banished into the friendship bucket for all eternity. Of course she had to actually show up first.
For a long while, Dante stared at the pebble-covered path leading to the lake waiting for Angie to saunter up in a skimpy bikini, until his eyes growing heavy. But the string of restless nights and the adrenaline-fueled pursuit of his dream girl had made him weary. He rolled off the blanket and onto the cool damp soil, slowly drifting to sleep.
The next thing he knew, Angie was hovering over him like a vision in a white tank top and a turquoise sarong. Her wavy red hair fell perfectly onto her shoulders. She was wearing dangly indigo earrings, and her lips were red and glossy. This was definitely the most glammed up Dante had ever seen her, which buoyed his hopes for taking things to the next level. She looked hot.
“Hey there!” she said brightly.
“Oh, hey!”
“Am I too late?”
“No, not at all!”
“So, was that a mix tape or a marriage proposal?”
“Ah, sorry if I went a little overboard…”
“Don’t sweat it,” she said, brushing against him with her leg as she settled onto the blanket.
“Did you get everything done?”
“Mostly. It’s a total shit-show these days. Doctors can barely make a living anymore with all the HMOs. So...what’s your deal?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re taking care of grandma…I get that much. But you must have a life you wanna get back to?”
“Not really. I still haven’t heard from my parents. Not that I enjoy talking to them. All they do is criticize me anyway. Then there’s my brother. He dumped me here so he didn’t have deal with anything.”
“Why are your parents so pissed at you?”
“Well, I fucked up my SATs and I missed the deadline for state. That was two years ago. Guess they’re just tired of me living home.”
“What were you going to study?”
“Business.”
“Really? You don’t seem like the type.”
“I’m not, really. Figure I’ll make nice bank though.”
“That’s no reason.”
“No?”
“For something you’re going to spend your whole life doing?” Angie stood up and stripped off her sarong. Her purple bikini was even skimpier than the one he had seen her in before, if that was even possible. Dante hoped the career talk was over because he was having a hard time concentrating with her curvy flesh flashing everywhere!
“Come on, it’s getting hot.”
Dante waded cautiously into the shallow part of the cool mountain water while Angie floated a few feet in.
“So, how old are you anyway?” Angie asked.
“Nineteen.”
“You seem younger.”
“I’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks.”
“Wow!”
“You?”
“I’m approaching a quarter-century! How crazy is that?”
Dante quickly inflated a circular tube and floated out to Angie. She looked at him, puzzled. “Are you serious with that thing?”
“No good?”
“You look like Charlie Brown at summer camp!” she snickered.
“The water’s like three feet deep. You know, my ex was a lifeguard.”
“Yeah?”
“Up in Lake Placid...” she said, crossing her arms.
“What happened to him? You take him out on one of your hikes?”
“No. He’s still alive. Just not to me.”
“Bad break-up, huh?”
“I’d rather not get into it,” she snapped, walking deeper into the lake.
“Sorry,” Dante mumbled under his breath.
“Angie, I think we should talk.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“You see, I had this dream, and you were in it…”
“Um, I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Look. It’s a gorgeous day, can’t we just hang out?”
“Sure.”
Angie started doing the backstroke in his direction, while Dante admired her nautical activity-and her body.
“This water feels amazing! In my new suit, it’s just like skinny-dipping,” she cooed.
“Shit!” Dante muttered under his breath.
With that one tiny salacious detail, Dante went from being totally relaxed to dangerously excited. He wouldn’t be ready to remove the tube wrapped around his waist for some time now or he would risk an unwanted costume reveal. So much for the theory of cold water and shrinkage. There wasn’t enough water in the world to put out the fire she lit in his pants.
He stared at the clear calm water, hoping to dial things back a few notches.
“Hey-,” Dante started to say something but just trailed off, realizing mid-sentence that it wasn’t very funny.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Yup.”
“You can stand in this water, you know.”
“Yup. Got it,” he stammered, feeling both exposed and immobile.
“Can you take that tube off? You look slightly ridiculous.”
Angie swam over, splashing Dante, and then started tugging at the tube as he retreated toward the shore. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him off the tube and into the water, laughing. They stood up together facing each other until she made a shocked face, and yelled “Oh my God! I can feel you on my leg!”
Dante dove backwards.
“Stop! I told you to stop!” He just stood there paralyzed, with his hands covering his crotch. He retreated to the shoreline.
For the next thirty minutes or so, Dante just sat there quietly, embarrassed and ashamed. He couldn’t help thinking he had blown it with Angie. Since emerging from the water, she had grown reserved and withdrawn, staring out into the water. The more time went by without conversation, the more anxious Dante felt. He wanted to quit while he was behind, to go before another disaster ruined the moment. He started to gather his things.
She looked over at him, “You outta here?”
“Yeah, I should really get home.”
“I’m avoiding that ‘cause then the Sunday night blues will really kick in.”
“I had fun.”
“Me too,” she said with p
uppy-dog eyes, her mouth puckered down.
“Well, good night…”
“Night,” she replied softly.
Dante looked at Angie. For the first time she looked vulnerable and slightly sad. He took a deep breath, leaned in, and gave her a peck on the cheek. She smiled and pulled his face toward hers, planting a kiss on his lips. Dante felt a rush of excitement covering him. He was in a state of absolute euphoria as he stood up and began to walk away.
He looked back and saw Angie smiling at him with her bare feet digging into the tiny brown pebbles.
“Hey Dante?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you sure you can walk home or will it be too ‘hard’?”
A large red ball of sun seemed to hover just above the tree tops, as Dante left Angie doubled-over in laughter.
7
LA LA LAND
Music filled Dante’s ears. Not metaphorical music. Not faint music. Full-on Dolby Surround Sound. He moved through the woods screaming Adele lyrics at the top of his lungs. “Hello from the other side! Must have called a thousand times!” Dante couldn’t believe how sweet life could be. One moment he was barricaded in a boxy bedroom back in Jersey. The next he was skipping around at the top of the mountain like Julie frigging Andrews in The Sound of Music. Literally! Dante was now fully convinced that Angie was the missing piece to the puzzle of his existence, and he was going to dedicate his life to her from now on. He wanted to share his big news with whoever would listen.
Back at Gram’s, the door was wide open, and there were random objects littered across the living room floor. Concerned, he headed for the kitchen where the stove had been left on and the refrigerator door wasn’t completely closed.
“Gram!” Dante called, but nothing broke the awkward silence. He blew through the basement to make sure she hadn’t fallen down the stairs onto the unforgiving concrete floor. She was simply nowhere to be found.