Marc and Angie

by Angela White

  I couldn’t help feeling sorry him, but I also couldn’t help the contempt that came with it. We finished the ride in silence that was no longer sweetly pleasing. I wasn’t going to settle for the future my mother wanted to force on me. I would die first and it pained me that Larry couldn’t have the same strength. He claimed youth was blinding, but I thought his bitterness had crippled him even more than the unhappy life he was leading. He had given up. I would never do that. Angie and I would have a great life together. I would be a Marine who could protect her and provide for her.

  “I asked your momma to let you come along for the big tour. She said yes.”

  I would finally get to tour those big cities and I thanked him. It would mean another year before I could see Angie again and I told myself it would be a good for us in the end. It would be hard to be apart, but mother wouldn’t discover my plans this way. I was taking the smart line and doing it all right. I would try to be satisfied with that.

  1993

  Marc: age 15

  Angie: age 12

  Chapter Ten

  January to September

  Angie

  I got my period in the spring of 1993 and I went to Patty for help. As if she’d been expecting it, she handed me a book from the shelf. It made my life easier with advice about pain medications and what pads to wear. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something I could hide from my parents and Georgie’s reaction was frightening. He bought me a new wardrobe that consisted of short skirts and very low-cut tops. It was the talk of the family this year, how well I was growing up, and I hated every second of it. If it wasn’t for the clothes Patty gave me that covered more of my skin, I might have spent the entire year in my room. Being a girl was hard.

  In July, I planted a flag in the corn while I cried for Marc, and then I went fishing. I also cried during that, but I did manage to catch enough of the right fish for the market man at IGA to give me cash each week. It was a good deal until the river flooded and the creek rose too high to get out onto the log that Marc had shown me. I tried to keep up with the weekly order from the shallower areas, but when I fell behind, the man wouldn’t deal with me anymore. It was another hard lesson learned. When I made a deal from now on, I would have to account for things that could go wrong. I would plan further ahead and hope there was less tears in the future. I couldn’t even handle the good things now. Like with the hand code I’d discovered in the rear of the diary Marc gave me. I cried like a baby over that. Puberty brought too many tears. I didn’t understand why I was crying a lot of the time, but I always credited it to missing Marc.

  The little diary was quickly filled in the front, but I didn’t write on those precious rear pages. When I mastered the codes Marc had put in the diary, I began to add my own. I hoped to give him the new pages next time I saw him and I carried the diary on me, in my bra. It was safe there from everyone except Georgie, but he stayed away from me after buying the clothes. I was grateful, but I was also suspicious. He hadn’t left me alone in years. Why now? Maybe his wardrobe present had been noticed by mother Brady and she’d told him it was bad. That’s what the other people at my party had been thinking. All I’d cared about was that Marc hadn’t been there to witness my embarrassment. I’d heard he hated New York City and loved the hunting cabins in Maine. I wondered if he’d had company during all those long nights, but I would never have asked.

  Thanks to the curiosities of puberty, I knew more about the sex thing now. I even knew what I’d stepped in all those years ago, but the final part of the act was still a mystery. I’d been reading snatches from my mom’s books when I could steal one from her, but words like manhood and iron flesh didn’t mean much and there was no official definition in the reference books. I assumed I was still too young to understand and waited for that time to come with impatience.

  I got my first trip to the Drive-In in the fall of 1993. Georgie splurged after a busy month and took my mom and me to see a double feature. I loved listening from the window speaker while I watched the huge screen, but I hated the dark and Georgie wouldn’t leave the car light on. I had to settle for the tiny flashlight Patty had pressed into my hand last Christmas.

  I did fine with Son In Law, and even found it funny the same way the adults did. The idea of getting away from my hometown made it a good movie for me, but then the second show came on and I spent the next two hours huddled in the meager light of the backseat, waiting for it to be over. The Good Son was a bad movie and that ending! Who wrote that stuff? I could do better. I was even thinking of trying. Most of the films and books that I’d gone through so far were disappointing. I was considering being a writer when I grew up. I could make nice stories that people still liked, and I could escape inside them. However, because of the things that I could do, I often thought I should pick a career that helped the world somehow. It also made me want a job as an adult where I could keep hiding.

  With puberty, my gifts also became harder to control. I had to practice shutting them down once they got rolling and I couldn’t stand to be around a crying child. Trips to the doctor were awful. I knew what was wrong with the baby in the next room, but no one would believe me if I told them. Sometimes I left notes on the desk for the nurse, but most of the time, I had to ignore it and that hurt me. Surely a power like mine should be used to help people, not hidden away until I forgot how to use it?

  I always had questions and even Patty didn’t have enough answers. Her knowledge was also limited to what she’d gleaned from books and old papers. She’d been orphaned at a young age and sponsored as a house-girl for Mary Brady’s mother. I assumed that meant she knew a lot of our history and secrets, but I didn’t ask her about them. I already knew some bones just weren’t worth digging up.

  Just like the years before it, 1993 was long and hard but it was also boring. The most exciting town moments were the shops that closed, rumors of a wolf eating the cats and small dogs that people were reporting missing, and the two small tornadoes in neighboring communities that caused slight panic until the locations were confirmed. There were fights and fires, and rumors of an investigation into the feed plant, but that was about it. The only other memorable thing that happened was that I found a bike. It was in the cornfield not far from our clubhouse area. It didn’t occur to me until later that the spring floods had probably washed it down here. Once I got the hang of badly bent bicycle, I flew through the corn like a wild thing, screaming as if I’d found buried treasure. In a way, I had.

  The bike remained at the clubhouse pile for a month and then it disappeared. I didn’t find any evidence of someone being there, but the bike was gone and so was the rest of my happiness until Marc came home.

  Marc

  I didn’t like it when Jeanie visited me on the farm. Everyone spied on us, all ready to give a full report to my mother whenever she requested one. I hadn’t been back from my city tour a full week before my mother was sending Jeanie out to visit. After the six-month trip that I’d had, I wanted to be left alone to enjoy some peace and quiet on the farm. The tour I’d been so looking forward to had been a disappointment in almost every way. Douglas, our driver, had been my escort and we’d gone with the uncles to each seedy bar and barely legal deli that my family owned a share of. At each stop, I was plied with women and liquor to curry favor with my mother. It didn’t succeed.

  I reported every infraction she’d told me to search for, because they hated me. I knew lies when I was face to face with them. I didn’t sleep well in the hotels, always worried someone might retaliate for my reports, but I was still stalked by uncles and distant cousins who thought I could be bought. As for our ‘other’ product, I was told my mother wanted to wait another year or two to be positive that I was mature enough. At first, I hoped my reporting would convince her, but I quickly realized that was why she’d agreed to let me go in the first place. It had been a test.

  I’d passed it as far as I was concerned. Where my mother was concerned, might be another thing all together, but I hadn’t
been back long enough to ask her if she was pleased with how I’d handled things. Now that she was sending Jeanie already, and that meant the testing of my loyalty wasn’t finished and it made me angry.

  When Jeanie came, I always had to play the perfect gentleman and be her escort. Yesterday, I had taken her to my favorite places on the farm and she’d disliked all of them, except for the field where Daniel and his friends liked to ride and do their tricks. After watching them, she’d asked me to walk her back through the woods and then she’d insisted that we kiss. I’d told her not to wear lipstick and I would do it next time.

  I sighed as the shiny Ford turned onto the farm driveway. Today was already the next time.

  The rest of the family was baling hay in the adjoining field, but I’d been left here to greet Jeanie and her parents. I respectfully shook her father’s hand through the window and said hello to her mom, who also had that same shade of hair. It made them look like brother and sister instead of husband and wife.

  Jeanie climbed out after I opened the door for her and I could tell by the sparkle in her spiteful green eyes that she also remembered what today was. I swallowed nervously. My first kiss. I’d hoped for it to be with someone else, but that was unreasonable and I forced a cheerful expression onto my face. “Hiya, Jeans.”

  Jeanie scowled as her father snickered and drove away. Jeanie hated nicknames. She also hated nature, sports, cars, dirt, and many other things I loved.

  Resigned to spending the day in sweaty chairs, trying to talk, I led Jeanie that way. Judy had guided me through setting up a picnic on the small outside table and I was proud of how nice it was. I was also resentful that Jeanie would enjoy it and not Angie.

  “Let’s go to the barn first. Judy said you guys have kittens.”

  I reluctantly took Jeanie into the humid barn, aware of her using it as an excuse to get me alone for the kiss. Already tired of her reaching these milestones before of me, I slammed the doors shut and stalked toward her as if I was angry. I was.

  Jeanie didn’t flinch, but she watched me warily, unsure of my intentions.

  Glad I’d scared her a bit, I kept coming until she began to back up. When she bumped into the wooden stall wall, I reached out and jerked her against my chest. I didn’t talk, but I did spend a moment studying her features. I tried not to compare, but it was impossible. She wasn’t my Angie and that made me even more upset.

  I leaned down and kissed my first girl in anger.

  And Jeanie liked it! Her arms curled around my neck and she moaned, melting against me.

  Confused, I shoved her away. “That’s enough.”

  Jeanie didn’t know what to make of my actions, but I did. The taste of her lips was fine and I knew we were compatible because that fleshy part of me was hardening, but I didn’t want this girl. I didn’t like her.

  I left Jeanie standing in the barn and climbed the fence to the field where everyone was still staring at the door. They’d obviously watched us go inside.

  I glowered at Rodney and Scot to warn them I wasn’t in the mood for teasing, but then I noticed the sky and the strong, cool winds pushing against me.

  I turned to find the sky beyond the house was black. When had that happened? It was blue and beautiful out here a minute ago.

  The family ran for the house as the rain started to fall and I resentfully ran back to the barn for my girlfriend. I found her in the same place, crying

  “What?” I snarled, taking her arm to lead her to the house.

  “You don’t like me!” she whined, crying harder.

  Guilt came, but it was light compared to the other types I’d already been carrying. I pushed her toward the window, glad of an excuse. “There’s bad weather coming. We have to get in the house!”

  But it was too late for that as the storm barreled down on us. The winds picked up and the open barn window showed swirling mire in the sky. Rain pounded on the tin roof as I took Jeanie into a rear stall where there were no windows. We hunkered down while the walls shook and hay fell from the rafters.

  Jeanie was still crying, though I thought it might be from fear now and I put an arm around her shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay.”

  She clung to me gratefully, whispering how sorry she was that she’d pushed me to kiss her. I told her it didn’t matter, but it did. I wanted to be the lead in any relationship. I was the male. That was part of my job.

  I glanced around the musty stall as we waited for the storm to pass, spotting feathers and shredded notebook paper. I wondered who was hiding out here with the chickens and then forgot it as Jeanie’s lips found mine. I hadn’t seen her attack coming and my body betrayed me when she slid a hand between us and rubbed me. I’d never had anyone else’s hand there and I held still, letting her do what she wanted.

  The storm flew by before I knew it and my jeans stuck to my shriveled skin as I walked her out of the barn with a silly grin on my face. Happy, Jeanie curled onto my arm and chattered about how brave I’d been.

  All I could think of was how much I wanted a cigarette.

  Angie

  I’d never actually seen a tornado before. I couldn’t now either, but I felt it coming even before the witch inside shouted at me to take cover. The pressure in the air changed, making my ears pop. The pain was enough that I dropped to my knees near mother Brady’s table as wind slammed against the front windows.

  “What are you–”

  “Look out!”

  The front windows shattered as something big and heavy came through and slammed into the minibar where three patrons were having a liquid lunch. People were knocked further into the restaurant, screaming.

  Mother Brady ducked as more debris flew in through the broken window, and I felt the others from the table crowd under it with me. The pain in my ears receded and I glanced around, not sure what to do.

  Get in the back! the witch ordered.

  I grabbed Mary’s arm. The others would follow her. “Come on!”

  The wind increased, bringing us the sound of a brutal engine searching for someone to hurt.

  Shocked by what was happening, Mary didn’t argue and the rest of the family and patrons followed, including Patty. She’d been here to pick up her weekly beer. She wouldn’t allow herself any more than that.

  The rear of the kitchen was made of brick and I took everyone there, but I didn’t think it would matter. When that tornado hit–

  The building shifted as the twister struck.

  Most of us were knocked to the ground and I didn’t try to get up. The witch wanted to bring up a shield and I was fighting with her, not wanting mother Brady to discover my secret even among this terror that I might die. The secret was more important than my life.

  The wind whipped through the double doors, slamming them against the walls. The banging couldn’t cover the awful screams and moans that were coming from the front of the restaurant and from the street. I winced as I thought of the people out there without any protection.

  I slid from under the body pile and scooted towards the doors. No one stopped me. Most of them had their hands over their ears or their heads between their legs like we’d been taught in school. Mother Brady was busy praying for mercy from her angry God.

  I ducked under the banging doors, fighting the wind to discover darkness. It was like the middle of the night and I struggled to see anyone in the debris.

  “Help...”

  The voice was weak and I scooted to where I thought it had come from. I found the man who had been closest to the window first. I could tell he was dead by the way he felt and the lack of sounds. My heart beat faster as I left him there. I didn’t like death. Death scared me.

  “Please...”

  I found the injured man under the rug, where it had blown over. Instead of uncovering him, I ducked under, hoping the wind was done with us now.

  I groped around and clasped the man’s bumpy hand, not sure what I should do for him. Before I could consider my gifts, the witch was already shooting a stre
am of power into him that I forced myself to allow. There was no way anyone was watching us right now, not with all the screams I could hear out on the street. It had been years since we’d had a tornado in this town. Everyone was terrified.

  I wondered if it was over when the wind dropped to nothing. Relieved, I broke the stream of power, hoping it helped. The witch had done this once before to a wounded deer that I’d found and cried over, but I didn’t know if I was strong enough to help a person. Even the deer had still been wounded, though it had survived the bullet wound. I still saw it sometimes. I recognized it by the jagged scar down the throat.

  I lifted my head, pulling the thick carpet up...

  Bam!

  Something exploded near the restaurant, sending fresh screams and panic through all of us, including the man who had apparently recovered a little because he was squeezing my hand hard enough to break it. I jerked free, sliding toward the debris pile that was blocking the main door. There was too much jagged glass on the window to go through it, but I had a sudden urge to get out that was impossible to refuse.

  “Get out of here!” I shouted to the people coming back through the double doors. “Here it comes!”

  I pointed at the darkening sky that was coming up the street like a bad driver, swarming over yards and the street. Horrow swam over my skin.

  Mother Brady grabbed Tracy and dragged her toward the rear door before I could say anything else. She didn’t help anyone, just got her family out.

  I was angry over that, but I was also relieved. This was a bad time for them to be watching my every move.

  Patty was still in the doorway, holding the doors so they couldn’t bang. She motioned to me, but I pulled the carpet up, hoping she could see the man from where she was. There wasn’t much light.

  Patty came over to help, but she tripped on the rug and landed on the man. He screamed.

  I understood we weren’t going to be able to move him and I remembered that we needed to be under something. I ran to the table and shoved it as hard as I could to push it over the rest of the way. As I dragged it toward the injured man, Patty grabbed an end. We took cover under it and then the tornado hit the restaurant and all I could do was listen to myself scream.