The Reformation of Marli Meade

by Tracy Hewitt Meyer

  “I’m so glad to see you.” I burrowed my head into his neck.

  He didn’t answer me with words. He answered me with soft lips and an urgent kiss I all too eagerly answered.

  We stumbled out of the catch of the moon’s last rays into the periphery of the forest where we were surrounded by ancient trees, their lush canopies, and near total darkness.

  I felt like my body had absorbed the energy of the moon, and my head was no longer in charge of what my body did. There was no reasoning, no doubt, no fear. Maybe it was the soft caressing rain that lured me to do things I never imagined. Or it was something altogether different that I didn’t understand and didn’t care to understand for fear the moment would be broken.

  Whatever it was, I couldn’t get enough of him. His hands traveled farther than they ever had before—to the hem of my shirt, soft caresses over my stomach and back. I was lost in him.

  Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “I NEED TO hurry.” I pushed upright and looked around. Intertwined tree limbs loomed over our heads in a thick weave that blocked out the sky, but in the distance, the sun had already turned the thick blackness into steely gray. “Nate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  “Well…” I pulled my knees up to my chin. “You being home again makes me nervous.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Then why were you limping yesterday?”

  He threw an arm over his eyes like even the dull sky was too bright. “I’m getting out of there soon.”

  “Okay. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  He fell into silence.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But I just…worry about you.”

  “I don’t mind talking about it, I guess.”

  The hesitancy in his tone belied the statement.

  “I was looking for something in Jude’s room. He came home. Kicked me in the knee before I had a chance to explain.”

  “Why were you in his room?”

  “I thought he might have a new address for my mom. Before I was put with the Stones, in a rare moment of kindness, he told me he had it and we would reach out to her someday. I had asked him to give it to me then and he wouldn’t, so I’m not sure he was telling the truth. But if this emancipation goes through, I won’t be in that home much longer and wanted to see if I could find it.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. He came home. He was on a bad high, which was good for me because his reflexes were slow. All he got in was one little kick, but I managed a good punch to his nose and one to his gut.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  “Yeah. That’s good.”

  “Marli?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m worried about you too.”

  I didn’t need to ask why. “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”

  I checked my watch, cringing at how swiftly time passed, like it had been put on the fast-forward setting.

  Nate stood, good sense prevailing. “Come on, beautiful. You’d better get home.”

  I smiled.

  Before I could stand, he pulled out his phone and snapped my picture.

  “Hey!” I reached out.

  He held me off with his long arm. “Here. I’ll show you.” He pushed a couple of buttons and then held the screen out for me to see.

  The image made me pause. It was obviously me. Blood-red hair? Check. Dark-as-night eyes? Check. Lips that were misshapen? Check. Check. Check. But there was something different in this picture, something I’d never seen in any reflection. Maybe it was the blinding flash that illuminated my features in a way that made them look better. Or maybe it was something else—like happiness.

  He slid the phone into his pocket and darted off into the woods. I stared after him as he passed out of sight wondering how, in the midst of all that was bad, something so good had appeared in my life.

  I started toward home, the misty rain saturating my hair and face. I tilted my chin upward and closed my eyes. There was a calmness here at the top of the world that ran so contradictory to the church and Charles and Edna. They were like a black dot on an otherwise perfect canvas.

  This was a baptism—a baptism by nature, washing over my skin with a gentle caress, cleansing, renewing, invigorating.

  I started to twirl, faster and faster. Dancing was forbidden on the mountain. Taking pleasure in movement was sinful. But as I spun, something inside me changed. The little girl who had been so afraid to misstep came forward and giggled with the simplicity of rain on cool skin, and I felt a deep awakening somewhere in my soul.

  Never before had I felt pleasure with the simple existence of life.

  “HEATHER AND MARLI, you’re at table three. Miles and Savannah, table four.” The biology teacher glanced at his notebook before shouting out more lab partner pairings and designated dissecting tables.

  I glanced at Heather but she was already moving toward the table, her expression unreadable. I followed and nearly choked at the smell wafting up from the dead, splayed frog lying there.

  “Gross,” I mumbled.

  “Seriously,” she said.

  “Do you want to go first or should I?”

  Heather grimaced. “I’m not dissecting that. You do it and I’ll take notes.”

  Without bothering to reply, I laid out the tools as Heather labeled the sheet of paper.

  “I have something for you if you want it.” She leaned toward me as if revealing a long-held secret.

  “Excuse me?”

  Heather huffed. “I was just saying I have some old things—clothes and makeup—if you want them.”

  “You want to give me your old clothes? Is this a joke?” I scanned the room for Janelle or any other member of Heather’s posse, but found everyone’s heads bent over foul-smelling dead amphibians.

  “Forget it.” Heather’s cheeks colored a pretty pink. “I just thought you might want to try different clothes. I doubt your parents would allow you to, though, so forget it.”

  I mulled her words over. “I don’t want to forget it. I dream of different clothes every day of my life.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I don’t like these clothes. I never have. I would love to wear jeans and cute tops and cool shoes. I dream of going shopping and having different clothes all the time.”

  “Ladies! More dissecting and less gossiping.”

  We leaned our heads in, bending over the frog as much as our nostrils could handle.

  “I have a bag in my locker,” she said. “Jeans. Sweaters. Shirts. There are even a pair of shoes. They’re scuffed but cute. And some makeup.”

  “You want to give me these things?”

  Heather’s face hardened back into its solid, impenetrable wall. “Just say yes or no.” She straightened. “I’ll leave them by your locker between periods.”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling her detach further from the topic by the second. “I would love them.” I didn’t stop to think where I would hide them, or wear them even. Those were minor details. At least for now.

  Heather gave a brisk nod and bent toward her notebook. She didn’t speak the rest of the class other than to bark orders if she thought I was making a mistake. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was just teasing me but, as promised, the clothes were sitting outside of my locker at the next break, stuffed into a clean white garbage bag.

  “Hey.” Nate brushed a hand over my arm.

  On instinct, I leaned toward him. Not touching skin-to-skin, but closing as much of the gap between us as I could. The faint scent of his body wash tickled my senses and I inhaled.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “Just a few things. Nothing really.” I stuffed the bag into my backpack, suddenly embarrassed that I was taking clothes from Heather. “Are you coming to the library?”

  “I can’t today.”

  “Is everything okay?” I searched
his face for any hint he wasn’t being truthful.

  “Everything is fine.” He pulled off his hat and ran a finger over the brim. “I have a meeting with my PO.”

  “About the emancipation?”

  “And a few other things.”

  “Things like what?”

  Nate’s eyes shifted. “Some things that are up in the air.”

  “Could you be a little more closed off?” I tried to make my tone light but it fell flat like a weighted stone.

  “Sorry. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “Okay. Now I’m worrying so spill it.”

  “I’m meeting with my PO.” He glanced down the hall. “They want me to help nail Jude for dealing, help them find the place where he makes the drugs.”

  “That sounds dangerous.”

  “See. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Too late for that.”

  “It’ll be fine. I mean, I’ll be out of there soon. I’m sure I’ll win this emancipation and I don’t have to see them anymore. And my PO is looking for my mom’s address too. Not that I’ll move there but it would be nice to have.”

  “That would be great, for sure. Let me know if he finds it.”

  He nodded.

  “But back to this Jude thing. What are you supposed to do to help?”

  “I’m not sure. That’s what we’re going to meet about. I knew he was a dealer, but they think he has a major operation going on, wider than they originally thought. Finding the lab will help them nail him.”

  “You’re speaking Greek to me. There are that many people who want his drugs?”

  Nate stared at me. “Um, yeah. Huge business.”

  “Oh.”

  “Even kids are getting it. A freshman at my old school died last week from an overdose, and his friends say he’d bought the drugs from Jude. The police are worried he’s mixing the drugs with something that’s more harmful than the drugs themselves.”

  “That’s crazy! And he mixes this stuff in a lab?” I envisioned a pristine white operating room-type place with Jude wearing a mask, gloves, and a white coat while he worked over a petri dish.

  “Well, they think he has a trailer tucked away in the forest. I don’t know the location, though, which is what I’m trying to help them find—an address or directions or something. We know it’s way out in Baron, but that county is huge and covered in forest. They would never find it, even from a helicopter, which is why they need me.”

  “I can’t believe what you’re telling me—that your brother makes drugs and he’s selling to high school kids and one died? That’s crazy.”

  “I know. So I’ll do what I can to help, then I’ll win the emancipation and move on.”

  “Nothing is ever that simple. And it sounds dangerous.”

  “It’ll be simple. He spends most of his time at the lab or distributing. He’s not home that much.”

  I didn’t hear the conviction I yearned for.

  “So, let’s change the subject. What’s new with you?”

  I scanned the students. “Too much to tell right now.”

  “Has something happened?”

  “Will you meet me tomorrow morning? We can talk then. I want to hear about what happens with this meeting, and I’ll catch you up on…some things.”

  “I will if you think it’s safe.”

  Was anywhere in the forest truly safe, or had I made myself vulnerable this whole time? The church watched the congregants. Charles and Edna, and now Robert, watched me. Was there no reprieve? No safe zone where I could call time-out and regroup?

  There didn’t seem to be. The only safe zone was with Nate, and he was the one thing I was not giving up. No matter the risk.

  “HI, MISS NELSON.” I walked past the counter at the library.

  “Hello.” Miss Nelson squinted at me behind the thick glasses, but I wasn’t convinced she could see more than a moving blur.

  I laid my backpack on the table in the back room and checked to make sure the library was empty save for Miss Nelson and me. It was just an added precaution. In all my days of coming to the library I’d never seen another person inside its book-lined walls other than Nate.

  I dumped the contents from the trash bag on the table.

  With excitement pulsing through my fingers like an electric current, I sorted through the pile, giving due diligence to each piece like it was newly uncovered treasure. Even though the clothes were used, they seemed clean and passed my sniff test—smelling more like detergent than anything else.

  There were two pairs of jeans, several tops, and a pair of shoes. Lying beside the shoes was a makeup bag whose zipper was closed but about to burst open. All it took was a quick yank on the cool metal and makeup poured onto the table.

  Lip glosses. Lipsticks. Blush. Mascara. Eyeliner. Nail polish. Even a tiny bottle of perfume. Some of them looked used, but some looked brand new. The eyeliner had the plastic covering on it from the drugstore.

  There were even a few things I wasn’t sure what they were for.

  Why would Heather give me these things?

  Confused, I settled into a more thorough study, running my hand over the fabric of the clothes, holding pieces up to the window, peering into the tiny oval makeup mirror attached to a compact.

  I finally had a glimpse of what it might be like to be a normal teenager.

  Then I had an idea. I would wear one of these pairs of jeans and a blouse to meet Nate in the morning. Would he be surprised?

  I paired different jeans and shirts, seeing what each looked like with the shoes. I dabbed a little powder on my nose then swiped gloss over my lips. I wouldn’t dare use the eye makeup since I had no remover, but I did put a quick brushstroke of blush on the apples of my cheeks like I’d seen Janelle do in the bathroom.

  Homework long forgotten, I stared at my haul, relishing each item like it was a priceless heirloom meant to be appreciated and savored. To me, each item was.

  EARLY THE NEXT morning I stood in the middle of my room, staring at the clothes I’d picked out yesterday sprawled across the bed. I dared to turn on the small nightstand lamp that I used for reading, and even though it only allowed the smallest gleam, I would not risk turning on the brighter overhead light.

  I wanted no interruption the first time I tried on regular clothes.

  My stomach sprouted into elaborate somersaults. I hoped anticipation was not the better part of pleasure because I sure expected a lot of pleasure from these new clothes.

  I chewed the side of my lip as I shimmied out of my heavy nightgown, leaving it a crumpled puddle on the floor. Standing nude save for my modest underwear, I held up the jeans against my legs. They seemed far slimmer than my actual shape but they slid on easily, molding over every curve of my body like a second skin.

  I almost released a squeal of delight.

  Almost.

  The waist hit several inches below my belly button, somehow accentuating the sharp curve of my waist.

  Turning to one side, then the other, I studied how I looked the best I could. Every few breaths I stopped to listen for any sound from Charles or Edna.

  At one point, I heard what sounded like a quick shuffle of feet. I glanced at the door, my breath nearly severed with panic. Was someone moving in the kitchen just outside my door?

  I moved to put my ear against the cool wood.

  And…I heard nothing. Then the shuffling sounded again, but now it sounded like it was coming from outside my window.

  With a hand to my frantic heart, I tried to calm my nerves. It was just an animal—a deer, likely—out for an early morning graze.

  Calm down, for goodness’ sake, Marli. Don’t be such a spazz.

  Moving in jeans, the softer-than-I-expected fabric rubbing against my skin, made me feel naked, like I had nothing on and wore only my underwear still. Even in the dim light I could see the muscles of my legs—calves and thighs, even my bony knees—on full display. Not to mention the tight hug around my hips.

  I pulled
the blouse over my head…slid my feet into the shoes…and marveled at the way they felt on my body.

  I could almost hear the mountain’s dearly departed turning over in their graves.

  In the frumpy mountain clothes, no part of my body was visible save for my hands, head, and neck. No piece of my clothing ever formed to show a shape. In fact, the bulkier, more voluminous the better, leaving me swallowed in a haze of scratchy cotton.

  But now…now I felt like I looked…

  I turned to the side and scanned the right side of my body.

  Then the other side.

  Back to the front where I gazed downward.

  Now…I looked good.

  And this time I couldn’t suppress the little squeal that escaped.

  I could pass for one of the regular girls at school, fitting right in with their style. If someone didn’t know I came from the mountain, by looking at me now, they never would.

  The thought sent a thrill straight through me, like an arrow of electricity shot from Cupid’s bow.

  The makeup was lying in a row on the dresser, assembled by area of the face it was meant to paint.

  I lifted a soft pink lip gloss and slid it over my lips, stunned at the stickiness it left. I swung the perfume beneath my nostrils, inhaling the sweetness, but did not put it on.

  A quick glance at the clock, though, told me I’d better quit ogling myself and hurry or I wouldn’t have much time with Nate. With as little noise as possible, I hid the clothes and makeup in an old suitcase under the bed, masked it behind a box filled with heavy winter sweaters, then gave the room a quick once-over for any remaining evidence.

  When I saw none, I pulled my longest skirt on over the jeans and slid into a heavy sweater then clunky clogs. If someone should be awake when I returned, I would look like I did every other morning, if only a little bulkier.

  This morning I left through the back door. Maybe it was the clothes that made me feel bold and powerful, like I wore sort of a superwoman’s cape. Or maybe I was losing my mind, and just at the point of full destruction, I was throwing all caution to the wind.