“Are there fish in this lake?” Tru asks.
“Hmm. Not really sure. I think so.”
Tru points over at the fall of rods and reels. “Have you ever used those?”
Chase grimaces. “I don’t think anyone has ever used those. But you can.”
Tru looks at me. “Want to go fishing tomorrow?”
My heart leaps. “Of course,” I say.
“The boat’s been — what do you call it? Winterized, though,” says Chase. “I don’t think you can get it down.”
“We can take the canoe,” says Tru.
“You know how to operate one of those?” Chase asks.
Tru looks over at me and smiles. “We both drive forty-five-foot shrimp boats. I think we can handle it.”
When we come back up to the house, Chase’s dad, Eric, is in the kitchen cooking, a glass of red wine on the counter. Chase’s cousin Sophie and her friend Claire arrive a little while later. They’re kind of the anti-Mandy, wearing mismatched clothes that look stylish together, no makeup, messy hair. We sit down at a feast of a dinner, with the fire blazing in the other room, jazz on the incredible sound system. I’ve never been in a scene remotely like this before. I’m terrified that someone is going to realize I’m too poor to be here. I think Tru might be feeling the same way. Derek, on the other hand, seems right at home. “I could really get used to this,” he says after he polishes off a huge slab of cake.
We head down to the dock house once the dishes are done. The girls are there already, and I can smell that they’ve been smoking pot. They’re sitting in the dark with their feet up on the tables.
“Hey!” says Sophie. “Want some?” She offers it to Tru and me.
“No, thanks,” says Tru. “I’m high on life.”
I shake my head.
Sophie moves on to Derek. He gives her a shocked expression. “Are you kidding?” he says. “My lungs are like a finely tuned engine. A Ferrari. I can’t damage that priceless machine with smoke.”
“OK, Mr. Ferrari Lungs.” Sophie laughs. “I know you’ll have some, cuz.”
“Yeah,” says Chase. “Because you’re the one who corrupted me in the first place.”
Tru brought his guitar down. Everyone starts making requests and he honors them to the best of his ability. After a while, bleary-eyed Chase notices that his parents have lit a fire in the outdoor fire pit. “Oh, look,” he says. “A fire. That means s’mores.” He gets up and heads out with Sophie and Claire, who has been flirting with Derek. Derek follows along. But Tru lingers. I feel this joy spreading over me. He lingers because of me, I think.
“How ’bout this?” he says. “This place.” He shakes his head. “I never thought I’d be in a place like this.”
“Me neither,” I say. And I tell him what I was thinking at the dinner table.
“I was thinking that, too!” he exclaims. “You don’t think Chase is just hanging out with us for the novelty of having poor friends, do you?”
“I think Chase is just excited to have friends,” I say. “I mean, he’s great. But he’s kind of an acquired taste.”
He strums his guitar and starts singing a Howling Wolf song that was on one of the CDs he made me; it’s about a poor boy, with no happy home to go back to.
We laugh a little and then we’re silent. “That’s for sure,” he says.
“You mean you don’t have a home to go to, or the one you do have isn’t happy?”
“Things are not so great with my dad’s cousins. It’s their house and they’re giving my dad work, but you know. He wants to be his own boss again.”
“It’s the same with my dad,” I say. “I mean, he doesn’t like to accept charity. He wants to be back out on the water again, but we have to wait for a trailer and the insurance payment for the boat. My mom just wants to stay here.”
“What do you want to do?” he asks.
I was afraid he’d ask. Because if I tell him, I’m saying I want to be where he is not. “I just always thought we would go home,” I say. “I mean, obviously I don’t belong here.”
He nods. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
My stomach is in knots. “What about you?” I manage to croak, not really wanting to know the answer.
“I don’t know.” I can tell he feels some of what I’m feeling. “I don’t really have a choice in the matter. We’re here now. And there are some good things about it.” He gives me a look as if he is about to say more, but the screen door swings open and Chase walks in.
“Come on,” he says, sounding loopy with a mouth full of marshmallows. “You’re missing the s’mores.”
We sit around the fire, under the blankets that Carol and Eric brought out. Claire and Sophie have gotten over their case of the giggles and are looking a little glassy eyed. There’s jazz coming from the speakers mounted on the trees, and the sky is so clear. You can see tons of stars. It’s like a dream. But in my heart, in my head, there’s a voice. Not even a little one. A strong and sure one, that says, You don’t belong here. And I know it’s right. This place is amazing. But it’s not my place. It’s not my home.
It’s still dark out the next morning when there is a knock on my door. I’m not sure where I am at first, but I fumble around, find the handle. Tru is outside, and for a split second, I think he wants to come into my bedroom, and I have a moment of panic. But he puts his fingers to his lips to say shhh and mimics casting a line, and I realize he has woken me up to go fishing. I nod, give him the “just a second” sign and go get dressed. When I come out, he has assembled some sandwiches for lunch. He holds up some chicken. “This is all we’ve got for bait.”
I scrawl a note and leave it on the counter: Gone fishin’.
It’s cold and black out when we head to the dock and collect the rods and reels. There’s a thick mist coming off the water. “Do you know where we’re going?” I ask as we start to paddle out.
“No idea,” he says.
“I’m starting to see a pattern here. Out on the water with no sense of direction and no navigational equipment,” I say.
“Ouch,” he says. “Well played.”
“Just kidding. How big can this lake be?”
We paddle out as the dark begins to soften. That peace comes over me. A flock of geese fly in formation above us, their barely audible honks echoing across the lake. They’ll be arriving in Louisiana soon, I think, remembering this time of year at home. It would just about be orange-harvest season, too, just a few weeks before the festival. But almost all the oranges are dead this year.
“You’re quiet back there,” says Tru from the front of the canoe. “What are you thinking about?”
I tell him. “I was thinking about home, too,” he says. He tells me that he used to come to the Orange Festival every year. His little sister wanted to be on the court one day.
“I think my sister is more upset about not being on Orange Court than she is about losing our house,” I say. “My mom was on the court when she was in high school.”
“So not only are you Fleet Queen, but you’re orange royalty, too? Man, who cares if Chase is rich? You’re royal.”
“Yep. My blood runs orange.”
“You know, I asked my cousin Hip about you,” he says. “After we met that day.”
“You did?” I’m terrified at what Hip might have said. Probably “Who?” and then “Oh, Mandy Riley’s little sister?”
“He said you were cool,” he says.
“He did not say that.”
“Well, he said that he knew you were the one who always won the fishing rodeos. So I’m a little intimidated going fishing with you.”
“Yeah, you should be. Totally.”
We decide to try the banks, since we know nothing about this lake. But everything seems to be private property. We finally find this little island and haul out just as my arms are starting to get tired of paddling.
At first, there’s this nervous energy. I feel like I have to show off and catch something right away.
>
“Ah, I see you have a slight flick,” he says. “Is it trademarked?”
“Don’t even attempt it. You may injure yourself.”
We fish. The conversation ebbs and flows like tides. It starts to develop a rhythm, like a waltz, sometimes quick and witty, sometimes slower, deeper, more reflective.
“When you’re fishing like this,” he says, “do you ever imagine that you’re on a fishing show, like Bassmasters? And narrate what you’re doing?”
“You do that, too?”
“Yeah, you can be a guest star on my show today.” He puts on a redneck announcer voice. “Today, we’re here with Evangeline Riley, five-time Bayou Perdu Fishing Rodeo champion, who’s going to show us how to bank fish in North Georgia —”
“Hey, what’s your show called? Tru Bayou?”
“Good one.” He puts his announcer voice back on. “We’d like to welcome Evangeline Riley to Tru Bayou today.Evangeline, tell me how you do it.”
“Well, Tru, you have to think like a fish. . . .”
The day is warming up. There are other boats out fishing. We move to different spots around the island. Not surprisingly, we catch nothing with chicken. We decide to have lunch. Light is coming through the trees on the little island, soft and warm. He says his brothers are studying business at LSU and the idea was that when they graduate, they were going to start Nguyen Brothers Seafood Enterprises. Not just fishing, but distribution. He was going to join them after school and pursue his music on the side. But now . . . Who knows how long it will take to save for a new boat?
It gets too warm to fish, so we head back. He’s in front of me in the boat, looking out over the water with his hair blowing in the wind, the billowy clouds in front of him. I feel this image of him imprinting on my memory, as if years from now, I’ll always remember him exactly this way.
He helps me out of the boat onto the dock. A strand of my hair falls, and he reaches over and pushes it back, his hand warm, strong, but soft. A shiver runs through me, the way an egret’s feathers ripple slightly in the wind as it’s about to take flight.
When we get back up to the back deck, Chase is still in his robe, hanging out with Sophie. “Oh, God,” he deadpans. “We thought you had capsized.”
“We didn’t really think that,” Sophie says. “We just woke up.”
“Where are all the fish you caught us for lunch?” Chase asks.
“Well, we didn’t have any actual bait,” says Tru.
“We can get some,” says Chase. “We need to go to the general store anyway. A terrible thing has happened. We’re out of coffee.”
We take the little country road to the store and pick up some bait, the coffee, and a few other things, and I’m standing at the cashier with Chase when I turn around and there’s Tate. His jaw drops. Mine probably does, too.
“Evangeline! What are you doing here?”
“Just up here for the weekend.” Why do I feel guilty? I turn to Chase. “With friends.”
Tate looks at Chase. “Hey,” he says. Even though Tate would probably never show disdain to anyone, I can tell that he knows Chase and doesn’t like him.
“Well, see you at school,” I say as we head out to the car. For some reason, I feel like I’ve been caught doing something I’m not supposed to do.
“You know Tate?” I ask Chase when we’re back in the car.
“Not really. We went to preschool together. I think we went to each other’s birthday parties until we were, like, five. How do you know him?”
“Political Science.”
“He’s harmless,” says Chase. “Just a little uptight.”
The afternoon is dreamy. We eat lunch out on the deck. It’s warm and sunny. There is a football game on in the living room that Derek, Claire, Sophie, and Eric are watching. Carol is reading a book. I get in the hammock near the lake and stare out at the water. After about ten minutes, Tru comes down. “Mind if I join you?” he asks.
For a second, I think he’s going to get in right next to me, but he goes to the other end and we swing there, the way Kendra and I used to do. I tell him about her. He tells me his older brother, Than, is his best friend and adds, “It would be cool if you could meet him sometime.” It’s the first hint that he is starting to see me in his future. That tiny little voice in the back of my head chimes in: But you don’t belong here. I brush it aside.
I tell him about Danielle. That we’re best friends, that we’ve been each other’s anchor for years. And then in one day, she was just swept away.
“I feel like this limbo we’re all in is just temporary,” he says. “It might take some time, but I know you two will find each other. This being apart doesn’t erase all the years you spent together.”
“Her life in Bayou Perdu was never great, though. Maybe they just moved on. Maybe she doesn’t want to remember.”
“I don’t believe that’s it. The friendship you just described seems stronger than that.”
In this time that we are here together, sandwiched between two trees, our bodies thrown together, I study the details of him: his hands, the line of his cheekbones, the exact color of his eyes. What would it be called? Chestnut? It’s a warm brown, not ordinary. It’s a brown that’s just his, almost a honey, golden brown. I have started zeroing in on his lips. I have to stop because the line between looking at them and wanting to lunge at him and kiss them has grown dangerously thin. All those clichés about love: it turns out they’re true.
Later, there is another incredible dinner, and afterward everyone gathers in the living room this time. Eric lights a fire and everyone gets under blankets and unzipped sleeping bags.
“I would love to hear some New Orleans music,” says Carol. “Since we’ve got two New Orleans musicians here with us.”
Derek offers to play “Basin Street Blues.” Tru begs off, so he does it with Chase. When they’re done, Carol says, “Derek! Amazing. I had no idea you were such an accomplished musician!” He shrugs a little. But not too much.
Carol is quizzing him on his musical background. “Have you ever thought of applying to a conservatory?” she asks.
“I was supposed to go to this academy in New Orleans,” he says. “Before Katrina.”
“He should audition at Manhattan, don’t you think, Chase? We know some people in admissions.”
“He can have my old spot,” says Chase, sounding a little bitter.
Tru picks up his guitar and sits on the edge of the fireplace. There’s something in his voice when he begins. It takes me a second to recognize that he’s singing Louis Armstrong’s “A Kiss to Build a Dream On.”
He is looking straight out over the room for almost the whole song, but he catches my eye for a second and smiles. I feel myself blushing.
“Absolutely stunning,” says Carol when he’s finished. “Chase, your friends here are as talented as your friends at Manhattan were.”
“What can I say? I attract talent,” he says.
Tru comes and sits next to me.
“Wow,” I squeak out. “That was amazing.”
He shrugs. “It seemed like the right time for that song.”
The song was a tough act to follow, so no one does. Sophie, Claire, and Derek start playing Trivial Pursuit. Chase wanders off to his room. I help Chase’s mom with the cleaning up. When I finish, Tru, who has been in the living room messing around on the guitar, comes in to join us.
“Do you want to go outside?” he asks. I can barely breathe. This is the tug on my line. This is it.
We walk out beyond the squares of light spilling from the house. When we pass into the darkness, Tru grabs my hand. We walk down to the dock together that way. My thinking breaks down. Stars, the chill in the air, that smell of lake water, his hand in mine. My mind has slowed to a crawl and it’s only my senses. His hand in mine. I think words are coming from my mouth, but I couldn’t tell you what I’m saying. Now we’re face-to-face. Eye to eye. I could lift off the ground, I’m so light.
And then he is
kissing me and I’m kissing back.
He breathes out and pulls me close to him. “I kissed the Fleet Queen!” he says, his face beaming. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day we met.”
“Why didn’t you?” I ask.
“I was scared, of course,” he says. “I thought you would laugh. Or leave me out there.”
“I was covered in water and smelling like fish. Why would you want to kiss me?”
“The shrimp crown really caught my eye, you know, earlier in the day.” He tilts his head back and laughs. “Seriously, though, I noticed your looks first. But then it was your superpowers. You just jumped right into alligator-infested waters and set me free and that was it. Boom. Lightning bolts.” Kiss. “Then there’s your sense of humor.” Kiss. “Confidence. The way you sing in French. Everything, basically.” Kiss. “What about you? When was the first time you knew you wanted to kiss me?”
“It was pretty much the same time.” We’re kissing again.
We go into the dock house to be alone, settle down under the unzipped sleeping bag that someone left out there last night. I can’t really say what happened next. Talking, kissing, a soft blur like that song that took me so far away to someplace I’ve never been. A place I want to visit again and again. It’s like the wings of this big white bird spread out and then settle over me. I’m so close to this beautiful, fragile thing — this feeling. I’ve been close to it before, but didn’t want to get nearer. Like I was afraid any movement would scare it away. But now I feel like I belong. Here. With him. We go back in when we see the lights start to go out inside the house. He drops me off at my door like a gentleman and says good night. I can’t sleep. I feel like I just woke up. For the first time ever.
During breakfast, Chase senses what’s going on. And since Derek and Claire have disappeared, I think he’s feeling like a third wheel. “You know, when I invited you guys up here, I had no idea this was going to turn into the love hotel.” He puts his coffee cup down on the table just a little too hard.
In the afternoon, everything is sort of fuzzy. We all play card games with Chase and Sophie for a while. Tru brushes up against me a few times and I feel electrified. I can’t seem to focus on anything but him. Later, we break up into smaller groups. We both spend time with Chase alone, out of guilt for me, at least. Then Tru and I have a few minutes alone on the back deck. I am dying to kiss him and wondering if he is thinking the same thing. But there are people just on the other side of the glass. Then it’s time to head back.
Between Two Skies Page 11