[Whispering Woods 01.0] The Waiting Booth

by Brinda Berry

  Em walked to the door with Biscuit wagging his tail as he followed. “Austin, I have to go home. Come on.” She smiled, but the emotion didn’t reach her eyes. “Mia, I’ll text you later. I’ve been doing more research on the business card that Pete left you, and we can talk when you’re alone.” She looked at Austin. “Now. Gotta go.”

  Austin wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  Arizona watched Em leaving and looked regretful. “’Bye, Emily. I will behave myself next time.”

  She laughed at that. “No, you won’t. But that’s what makes you so much fun.”

  He did a little bow to her, and she winked at him before she turned and went out the door. I questioned if I hadn’t just witnessed some bizarre flirting ritual.

  “Be careful that Biscuit doesn’t get out.” I yelled down the stairs after them. He barked when he heard his name. I looked back at Regulus and Arizona. I thought the room would seem less crowded with Austin and Emily gone, but that wasn’t the case.

  My bed looked like a small tornado had landed where Arizona and Austin had knocked it around while fighting. I straightened the comforter and pillows.

  “His hate for me is evident.” Regulus sure didn’t believe in beating around the bush.

  “He doesn’t hate you. He got into the fight with Arizona, not you.”

  “In Austin’s mind, Arizona and I are the same. He wished he was hitting me.” Regulus rubbed the back of his neck. “And Arizona should not have let his emotions rule him.”

  “Arizona did shove him,” I said. “Austin talks trash, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s a good person.”

  “And he is in love with my girlfriend.”

  * * *

  Feelings

  “Popcorn is my favorite.” Arizona popped each kernel into his mouth like it was a delicacy, grinning as he licked buttery fingertips. His blond hair hung forward and hid his eyes. His hair was much prettier than any girl’s I knew. Long and silky, it framed his tan face like a curtain when he bent his head. Then he lifted his head, and any feminine qualities ended there.

  “We have more of that,” my dad said. From his recliner across the room, he watched as Arizona dug around the kernels in the bottom of the jumbo-sized plastic bowl.

  I imagined that Dad missed Pete, and that was the reason why he kept hanging around. Regulus and Arizona weren’t the most normal guys to hang out with. I had grown up playing video games with my brother and his friends. Regulus and Arizona didn’t get into gaming. Not really. They continually argued about the reality of a game scene or relayed the time that they had actually performed the feat in real life.

  So, we watched movies, and I taught them poker. Tonight, Dad had rented an action flick, and he’d brought a chick flick for me. When he’d asked the guys if they wanted to watch the movies, they’d immediately said yes. The action movie was great, and they both enjoyed it. The chick flick was in the player for ten minutes when Dad got up.

  “That’s it for me. I’m done for the night.” He rose from his chair to head upstairs. “Make sure you lock up and turn the alarm on.” He turned out the kitchen light before pausing at the stairs. “Good night everybody. You guys drive safely when you head back to the dorm.”

  “Yes, sir. We will do that,” Regulus answered from his spot a foot away from me on the sofa.

  “Thanks for the snacks,” Arizona added.

  I turned to see Dad’s feet disappear up the stairs. The movie was not one that I would have picked. Cute guy meets perfect girl. They fall in love within minutes and then the roadblocks pop up. Regulus appeared to be mesmerized.

  “We don’t have to watch this.” I scooted closer to him on the sofa. He leaned his head back, looking tired. He put his hand out, palm up, inviting me to place mine in his.

  “I’m going to go on back. I’m getting sleepy.” Arizona yawned with his arms stretched above his head. He smiled then, and I knew that he was performing.

  “See ya later, Arizona.” I grinned back at him, knowing that he was trying to give us time alone.

  He let himself out, and I heard the motorcycle start and then pull away from the house. Leaning my head on Regulus’s shoulder, I exhaled deeply, contented.

  Regulus rubbed his thumb across my knuckles before holding it to his lips.

  A strange tingly sensation zipped through my body, and I caught my breath in anticipation. Tightly strung, I swayed closer to his shoulder and twisted to face him. He smelled of the woods. The scent of cedar and pine from his clothing filled my nose and translated to me as a warm yellow glow. He always filled me with warmth and happiness. I leaned in to nuzzle his neck.

  “Your father.”

  “Hmm. He sleeps like a log.”

  “He will not like this if he walks down here.”

  “He doesn’t sleepwalk,” I whispered with my eyes closed.

  Regulus slid his hand to the back of my hair. He drew me closer, and then we kissed. A slow easy kiss at first, and then as the pressure increased, so did my heart rate. He let go of my hand, and I clutched his shoulders.

  He pulled away. “What comes next for us, Mia?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think you know what I am asking. This kissing is nice, but it is a catalyst.”

  “A catalyst?” I sat in stunned silence. “I’ll never get used to your way of putting something that’s supposed to be romantic.” I scooted away several inches to sit with my arms folded, tracing patterns on the knee of my jeans. I could hear his breathing in the quiet room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lean his head back on the sofa to stare at the ceiling.

  “My conversation will never be romantic. You know who I am. My language skills are expert level but not native.”

  “I wasn’t really complaining about your language skills.” I glanced up at him. “You don’t ever talk about your feelings.”

  Regulus sighed.

  The sound surprised me. At least it showed a level of frustration, and that was better than nothing. I touched his arm, but he continued to stare at the ceiling.

  “I yearn for you. Does it make you happy to hear that? I think about your touch and your body when I need to focus on the duties I have been given.” His voice came across flat and uncaring, but the words gave me chills.

  “Arizona said something about being in lust. It’s more than that, right?” I wished he would look at me.

  “Arizona says too much.”

  “You’re not denying it.”

  “All people our age lust. It is a physiological reaction.”

  “What if I said I didn’t?”

  “You would be lying.” He chose that moment to look into my eyes.

  He was right.

  “I think I need to go to bed. It’s getting late.”

  “If I were Arizona, I would ask to join you. But I am not. He knows the way to flirt with a girl by saying the things that make them giggle. I say what I know is true. I’m sorry if the truth makes you upset.”

  “I want the truth. And I’m fine with the way you are honest about…everything.”

  “Then it is time for me to say good night. Your father will be awake upstairs and listening for me to leave. He will be glad when he hears my motorcycle start. I may not know everything about the dating rituals here, but I do know one thing. Your dad is very afraid that our physical relationship will progress too far.”

  “Ugh. This conversation is beginning to freak me out. I would rather not hear about my dad and sex in the same sentence.”

  “I said nothing about sex in that sentence, Mia. See…you do have it on your mind.”

  And then he laughed. Relief flooded through me that he wasn’t mad.

  * * *

  “Why does it bother you? Most guys don’t like to talk about their emotions. It’s a guy thing.” Em’s persuasive voice soothed me across the phone line. Her warm tone of voice always filled my head with a pink rush of color.

  I tucked another pillow underneath my head. “I wonder if h
e’s had lots of girlfriends in the past.” I chewed on the edge of my thumbnail and moved the cell phone to the other ear.

  “Probably,” she said. “Look at him. I mean, you know how some poor guy might have been hit with the ugly stick? He was hit with the gorgeous stick.”

  I snorted. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Uh-huh. Scale of one to ten. Come on…I think he’s a nine point nine. Right?”

  “You shouldn’t be rating my boyfriend.” I attempted to sound indignant. I failed miserably.

  “I’m just saying that he’s really fine. And he’s not an idiot. And he’s built like he plays soccer or does extreme sports—”

  “He does extreme sports. Working for the IIA isn’t for wimps.”

  “Tell me again what that stands for?”

  “Interdimensional Immigration Authorities,” I answered.

  “Do they have some kind of entrance exam that requires you look like that?”

  “Maybe,” I said, laughing. “That would explain why he and Arizona both look that way.”

  Silence filled the phone line.

  “Do you want to talk about Arizona?”

  “Not really.”

  I waited for more. When none came, I decided to force the issue. “Look. It’s obvious that Arizona flirts his head off with you, and then you flirt back. To a degree. But then other times you act…well…like he’s the plague.”

  “I do not.” Em denied the accusation, but her response was weak. She cleared her throat. “Flirt with him.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that, Em.”

  “I know that.” Her voice filled with defensive vibes. “Listen, I’ve gotta go.”

  Her quick exit line worried me. Usually we talked for at least an hour and the call ended only if I had to leave. Em liked to talk to me on the phone. It prevented her mom from nagging at her about being better at school, sports, or being the perfect daughter.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.” I reluctantly let her off the hook.

  * * *

  I woke from a dream about my mother. I never thought about her in my waking hours, but she had a habit of sneaking into my dreams.

  I was a small girl again. The funny thing was, she hadn’t been around during that time. The woman had left when I was a toddler, which was good because I didn’t really remember her. Or miss her. Not really.

  With my knees tucked under my chin, I tried to recall the events of the dream. Something nagged at the edge of my consciousness and swirled around. I closed my eyes tightly and attempted to see the dream behind the dark curtain of my lids, but there was nothing.

  Like the answer that comes from nowhere during a pop quiz, I visualized a brown cardboard box. The flaps on the sides were lifted, and the woman put items into the box. I watched a replay of the items moving from her hands to the box. Baby clothes and a photo album floated into the box. The hands shook as they moved to close the box’s flaps.

  I jumped from my bed and grabbed a fleece robe. Sticking my arms into the sleeves, I blindly inserted my feet into house slippers and held my breath as I cracked the bedroom door and peered into the hallway.

  Anticipating Biscuit’s bark, I told him, “Shh…” I could feel him at my feet since he thought he had to follow me everywhere. His usual exuberance was absent in the early morning hours, and he trotted within inches of me down the stairs. After turning off the alarm to the right of the door, I crept to the kitchen where I could exit to the garage.

  Two spotlights hanging on the roof corners lit the garage door. I didn’t open the large, vehicle-entry door but went to the side door. Reaching underneath a fake plastic stone, I found the hidden key and entered.

  Biscuit followed me inside the garage, cheerfully wagging his tail and running his nose along the edges of all the boxes. I turned on the light and looked around. What was in all these boxes? I began to tear the seal on the first unmarked cardboard box. Sitting cross-legged on the chilly concrete floor, I removed the first mystery from within while Biscuit sat and nuzzled his nose into the small of my back.

  Sliding my fingers along the edges of a silver picture frame, I gingerly separated it from the other contents of the box. The five-by-seven was new to me. I had seen only a few pictures in our house like the one I held.

  The close-up of the woman captured her from the waist up. Her arms were stretched high to hold an infant above her head. The baby wore no clothes and stared straight into the woman’s eyes. Although naked, the side view didn’t tell me if it was a boy or girl, this baby with a downy cap of blond hair and dark eyes. The expression on the woman’s face interested me most of all. Pure delight radiated from her wide smile to her shining eyes. Crinkles at the corners of her eyes hinted at laughter. I looked at her face and found my mouth filled with the sweet tastes of vanilla and sugar. The warmth of it frustrated me. I knew the truth.

  I tossed the picture onto the top of the next stack of cardboard boxes. Reaching into the box, I took out a soft, pastel-colored square—a green and yellow baby blanket. I refolded it and tucked it away. The last thing I wanted was for my dad to see that I had gone through any of the boxes.

  Below the blanket, I carefully unwrapped the first of several newspapered items. I held a pink ceramic pig and tilted it, listening to the musical clink of coins in its belly. After unwrapping another package, I marveled at the weight of the tiny silver box monogrammed with a scripted “M.” I pried the lid off, then gasped when a tiny tooth tumbled out and fell to my feet. I hurriedly retrieved it, replacing it in the box. Next, I extracted a Ziploc bag with a tiny pink brush with pliable bristles, nail clippers, and several pacifiers.

  The last item in the box was a scrapbook, with pink lambs on its cover. The title was Baby Memories. I sat cross-legged with it in my lap. I opened it to the first page, then read the inscription.

  Name: Mia Carina Taylor

  Parents: Steven and Nancy Taylor

  The print was simple and neat.

  My heart raced at the implications that she had actually claimed me once. I turned all the pages, resting on several to read a journal-type entry recounting a first smile, sitting up, and doctor visits.

  An indescribable anger filled me. How could she have written these things as if they’d mattered? The bitter taste of truth forced me to swallow hard. I couldn’t understand this person holding the baby in the picture. How had she changed from the smiling woman to the one I had met with a gun in her hand?

  I replaced the book in the box and closed the flaps. The box had raised more questions, not revealed answers. Biscuit followed me quietly out of the garage and away from the memories.

  * * *

  The knock at the door startled me. I ran to the window and parted the sheer curtain to see two motorcycles parked in the drive. Swinging the front door open, I eyed them both suspiciously.

  “What’s going on? I didn’t expect to see you this early.” I glanced at my watch. Eight o’clock on a Sunday morning. Most would think that company knocking at the door at this hour on a weekend was weird, but I was getting used to the weird and unexpected.

  “Come on in,” I said. I smiled to take the edge off my earlier greeting. I took Regulus’s hand and yanked him inside. I rubbed his cold hand between both of mine. Arizona followed, immediately making himself at home by removing his heavy jacket.

  “We have something important to do today and thought you might be interested in tagging along.” Regulus looked around—for my dad, I guess—and when he was satisfied we were alone, he said, “You have some training to begin.”

  “No one ever told me about any training.” I imagined running through tires and doing push-ups. I frowned.

  “We’ll take advantage of the talents that we’ve already witnessed. Marksmanship, problem solving, portal detection…nothing too outside your range of abilities. And we’ll work on the things you don’t do well, like following my orders.” Regulus paced around the room like he had unspent energy t
hat needed releasing.

  “I’d like to work on her cooking skills. I’m starved.” Arizona said it with mock seriousness.

  I playfully hit him on the arm. “You’re always hungry. I swear you’re a bottomless pit.” I waved for them to follow me into the kitchen. They both took seats at the heavy oak dining table while I began opening cabinet doors in search of something quick and easy.

  “What about the eggs and bacon your father made last weekend?” Arizona looked around at the countertops like the food would magically appear. “That was very tasty.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you thought so.” I laughed at his sad expression. “But since I’ve never done that, you might get lucky enough to get a Pop-Tart or cereal.” I grabbed some bananas and oranges from the fruit bowl on the counter and put them on the table.

  “Where’s your father?” Regulus asked. He grabbed an orange while Arizona slid the bowl across the table and examined the cereal boxes. Regulus scored the rind with a pocketknife so that he circled the circumference from top to bottom. Then he peeled off exact sections to place on a paper towel. The precise, surgical method of eating an orange was very much like him.

  “I forget,” I said. “He got up really early and said good-bye before he left. He flew out to somewhere on the East Coast.”

  “And when will he be back?” Regulus nodded, looking pleased.

  “End of the week,” I said. “Thursday or Friday. I can’t remember. I guess I don’t pay attention.”

  “You should. It is an important detail.” Regulus’s voice held a scolding tone that irritated me. I was the most responsible teenager in Whispering Woods.

  “Well, um-hum. Is something going on in my so-called training at the end of the week? If you expect me to be strategically planning my schedule, it would be nice to clue me in.”

  “It is important because he is your father. No other reason according to Arizona,” Regulus said.

  Arizona poured cereal into his bowl and helped himself to milk from the refrigerator. His chomping sounded overly loud in the next few moments. He always kept quiet when I wished he would jump in and take one side or the other. He smiled at me. “I’ve been explaining some family issues to Regulus this morning.”