Here’s where I’m going with this. So I had this girl. I liked this girl. And I think she liked me. But I had no idea what to do about it. Should I call her? If so, what do I say? Should I ask her out? If so, where should we go? What would we do? Even if everything goes well and she agrees to hang out with me…then what? Should I try to kiss her? I’ve never kissed anyone before. Well, except for my mother, but that’s certainly not going to help me. I have no idea what I’m doing. Imagine being kissed by an inexperienced fat kid. Well that’s what I’m thinking anyway. Tons of insecurities start punching me in the face, taunting me, convincing me that there is no way this girl would really like me, let alone want to kiss me. So what do I do? Absolutely nothing. Eventually it becomes habit. I inherently knew this, but breaking down the prison I had built for myself was not easy.
Ely Carter
——————————
“Dude, stop being a pussy and just call her,” Jeff said rubbing his short hair in frustration.
Ely shook his head. “I don’t know. Easy for you to say ‘Justin Bieber’, but come on, look at me. You saw Amanda. There is no way she would want to go out with me.”
“Bieber? Come on, man, I would think Brad Pitt would be more fitting.”
“Whatever.”
Jeff and Ely were sitting in front of the television playing an Xbox game. Well, Jeff was playing. Ely was just watching and stewing over Amanda. It was Saturday night and it had been three days since Amanda had talked with Ely at his locker and suggested that they do something. Even though he knew, deep down inside, that it was Amanda that actually suggested it, that still didn’t make it any easier to pick up the phone and call her. He had handled himself well enough when he had spoken to her previously, but talking on the phone was different. It was so alien to him that just the thought of it caused his stomach to twist and turn, as if a baker were kneading dough in his abdomen. On top of that his heart was pounding like the sub-woofers at a rock concert.
Jeff paused the game and turned to face Ely. “Listen, I understand you being nervous, but you just have to do it. You can’t, and won’t go your entire life without calling a girl. At some point it will happen. You might as well do it now. Besides, it sounds like she likes you, so now seems as good a time as any to take the plunge. Jump in the pool and learn to swim.”
“Nice analogy.”
“Thanks, man. We learned about those in class last week.”
Ely took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know you’re right, but I can’t convince my body to get up and pick up the phone.” He looked over at the phone by the television as if it were the embodiment of evil.
“I have a plan,” Jeff said as an idea suddenly struck him. He got up and ran into the kitchen, returning briefly with the whiteboard they kept on the wall.
“I’ll call her and put it on speaker phone. As you talk to her I’ll write stuff on the board to say if you get stuck. It’s brilliant,” Jeff grinned and jumped over to the phone.
“I don’t know…”
“You’re doing it. What’s the number?”
Perspiration began to break out on Ely’s forehead, but he knew Jeff was right. Besides, it was a good plan and Ely was pretty confident that Jeff could get him out of any hole he dug for himself. Ely wiped his clammy hands along his pants, stood up, and walked over to the phone. “Okay, let’s do it.”
“Great! What’s the number?”
“554-6745.”
“Here we go,” Jeff said as he dialed the phone and made sure the speaker was on.
As the phone rang, Ely could feel an apple begin to grow in his throat. And the baker had now become a witch with claw tipped fingers scraping the inside of his stomach. He took a couple quick breaths as the phone rang two, and then three times. On the fourth ring Amanda answered.
“Hello.”
Ely looked at Jeff, frozen in fear. Jeff urged him on and wrote ‘hello’ on the board.
“Hello,” Amanda said again.
Ely’s eyes were wide and the apple in his throat blocked any attempt to say something.
Finally Jeff took the situation into his own hands. “Ummm, hello,” he said as he coughed, trying to disguise his voice.
“Who is this?” Amanda asked.
Luckily for Ely, Jeff’s attempt to salvage the situation broke him from his paralysis and he was finally able to croak something out past the lump in his throat. “Hey, it’s Ely.”
“Oh, hey, how are you? I was wondering when you were going to work up the courage to call.”
Ely was relieved to hear the humor in her voice. He nervously cleared his throat and found his voice at last. “Well, as we speak there is a lump the size of a watermelon in my throat and the Olympic hockey team is having shooting practice inside my stomach, but other than that I’m fine.”
Amanda laughed and Jeff grinned at Ely, giving him a thumbs up and mouthing the words ‘nice job’. Then he quickly wrote something on the board and held it up to Ely.
“I love that wit of yours,” Amanda said.
“And I thought it was my washboard abs,” Ely replied as he looked at what Jeff had written. On the board were the words ‘So how are you? I’ve been thinking about you.’
Amanda laughed. “I’m not into the jock types.”
Ely, without really thinking, read the phrase out loud. “So how are you? I’ve been thinking about you.”
“You have? How so?” she asked, clearly enjoying the dialogue.
Now Ely was stuck. “Well, ummm,” he stumbled, looking for something to say as Jeff frantically wrote on the board. “I like…ummm…” and before Ely could say anything Jeff held up the board and Ely read it quickly. “Hold on a second.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Oh…okay.”
Ely put his hand over the speaker on the phone. “What are you doing?” he whispered frantically.
“Shhhh,” Jeff admonished. “I’m stalling for time,” he whispered quickly as he erased the phrase and wrote something else. Ely looked at it and smiled.
“Sorry, I moved into the bedroom for more privacy. I was saying that I miss talking with you. I’ve been thinking a lot about how much I’ve enjoyed our conversations.”
“Like this one?” she asked.
“Well this one started off a bit awkward, but it’s getting better now.”
“Yes...it definitely is.”
Jeff smiled and wrote something on the board.
“So what are you doing?” Ely asked.
“Nothing much. I’m actually painting my room. Nothing terribly exciting.”
Ely read the note on the board and shook his head at Jeff, silently mouthing ‘no’.
Jeff got serious and pointed his finger at him, then at the board, emphasizing that he wanted Ely to read what he wrote.
There was a long pause as Jeff and Ely had a silent standoff. “Hello?” Amanda asked.
Finally Ely broke down and read the board, mainly because he hadn’t thought of anything else to say. “So, how about that date?”
“Date? I said coffee…now aren’t you getting a little presumptuous,” Amanda teased.
‘I told you’, Ely silently mouthed the words as he glared at Jeff. “Ummm, that’s what I meant, sorry…I…”
“Ely, I’m just kidding. I would love to go on a date with you. When?”
Jeff quickly wrote something in bold letters and held it before Ely.
“Now,” Ely said.
“Now?”
“Well, I was going to suggest tomorrow, but then I realized you were painting your room. And I’m guessing that you’d rather be somewhere else, even if it’s with me, than stuck in your room painting.”
Jeff nodded his head approvingly. “Nice work, buddy,” he whispered softly.
“Well, that’s true. But Ely, stop sounding like a pessimist. It doesn’t suit you. I actually want to hang out with you. So stop having a pity party and come pick me up.”
Ely grinned, but his smile q
uickly disappeared as he fully realized what she had said. Then, before he could get a word out, Jeff had reached into his pocket, pulled out his car keys, and was dangling them in front of his face. Ely smiled gratefully at his friend, whose own smile was as wide as the Cheshire Cat.
“Okay, that would be great. Where do you live?” He paused for a moment as she asked him if he had a pen and paper to write down the directions. “No, I will remember it.” She gave him the directions and then said goodbye. “See ya soon,” Ely responded before hanging up.
Ely was still smiling from ear to ear. “I did it. She wants me to pick her up in an hour.”
“See, I told you so. You did great. And like she said, stop being so negative about yourself. I’ve told you this before and she just reinforced it. Girls like confidence, so stop acting like an insecure pussy.”
“Fine, I’ll try to work on it. Thanks Jeff. And thanks for letting me use your car tonight.”
“No worries. Besides, I’m into this damn game so I don’t think I’m going anywhere tonight. Now go get ready.”
Ely smiled and ran up the stairs. This was a momentous occasion. His first date.
He found her house easily enough and as soon as he pulled up she opened the front door and ran to his car. Ely had read that girls liked it when you opened the door for them, so he frantically unbuckled his seat belt and ran to the passenger door. There was no way he could make it look smooth and get there before she did, so he didn’t even try.
She laughed as he quickly opened the door for her. “Ely, it’s okay, I’m a twenty first century kind of girl.”
Ely looked dejected. “Oh…okay…I’m sorry.”
Amanda smacked him on the arm. “It’s no big deal. Lighten up. Besides, it’s the thought that matters. I don’t need my door opened for me but the fact that you thought of it is nice…and really cute. Thanks.”
Ely’s smile returned as she got in the car. Ely got back in and buckled up. “Well, what do you want to do?”
Now it was Amanda’s turn to look dejected. “You mean you don’t have a plan?”
“Ummm, I’m not sure…I don’t…”
“Ely, I’m still joking. Relax. Let’s just hang out.”
“That sounds good. Honestly, I was so excited you said yes that I only came up with one idea.”
“And…?”
“Well, it’s a nice night and the moon is out. I have some wood in the back of the car and I thought it would be fun to light a fire down by the Purdy Bridge. I have a thermos of hot chocolate and we could just hang out by the fire.” Ely looked at her questionably, hoping she wouldn’t think the idea was lame.
“You came up with that plan on your own?” Amanda asked.
“Well,” Ely hesitated. “If you must know it was Jeff’s idea.”
Amanda laughed. “Either way, I love it! Let’s go.”
It didn’t take them long to get to the spit. Puget Sound was a collection of numerous waterways. Bays, lagoons, inlets, and spits reached shimmering azure fingers into the heavily forested surroundings. It was truly beautiful and Ely had yet to explore much of it. But the Purdy Spit was a well-known thoroughfare. It was the main road connecting Gig Harbor to the Key Peninsula and stretched for a half mile or so over a manmade base of rocks and backfill flanked by Henderson Bay on one side and the Purdy Lagoon on the other. The Purdy Bridge spanned the waterway that connected the bay to the lagoon, and the beach that lined the bay side was a popular hangout during the summer and known to the locals as the Purdy Spit.
Ely parked along the side of the road just before the entrance onto the bridge. “Why don’t you grab the blankets and I’ll start hauling down the wood,” Ely suggested as he got out of the car.
“Sounds good.”
Amanda traversed the short rocky trail that went down to the concrete supports under the bridge. The tide was on its way in but there was plenty of room along the edge of the driftwood piles that lined the entire length of the spit. There was already a spot that had a fire pit dug and several big logs had been dragged up to it to form some make-shift benches. It was a perfect spot. The concrete base of the bridge blocked the breeze but you could still look out across the bay. The night was clear and calm and the ambient glow of the moon and stars was reflected off the glassy surface of the water.
Ely had to make two trips but it didn’t take him long to get the wood stacked up and a blazing fire lit while Amanda wrapped herself in a blanket that he had brought. He found a stick that he could nudge the fire with and sat down next to her on the log.
“Have you been here before?” Ely asked. Amanda lived on the harbor side so she didn’t have to cross the spit, but the high school was close so he figured she at least knew about it.
“I’ve obviously driven by it, but I’ve never been down by the water.”
“Well, the weather’s been pretty rainy and crappy since you’ve been here. During the summer this is a pretty popular hangout.”
“Oh yeah? Do you come here in the summer?”
“Nope. I try to stay away from bathing suits and crowds if I can help it. Especially if the former is accompanied by the latter.” Ely smiled as he poked a log further into the flames. “Besides, this is where the cool kids come to hang out. I wouldn’t really fit in.”
“I don’t know, Ely. You’re pretty cool,” she said as she nudged him gently. “Besides, aren’t you friends with that Jeff kid? According to everyone in the school he is definitely cool.”
“He is that. Yeah, we are friends. But we don’t really hang out much in public. He has other friends that he does that with.”
“So you guys are like closet friends?”
Now it was Ely’s turn to gently elbow her. “No, and I get your reference. I wouldn’t be here now if that was the case.”
“I see,” Amanda said, smiling subtly, locking eyes briefly before Ely returned his stare to the flickering flames of the fire.
After several moments of silence, Amanda finally spoke. “So Ely, will you tell me about your father?”
Ely’s face became serious and he took a moment to stir the fire again before looking up at her. “You sure you want to hear? It’s not a pleasant story.”
“I do. But only if you’re comfortable with it; I’d like to know more about you.”
Ely sighed. “Okay. I don’t remember much of my early youth. I’m not sure why, but I think it was a defense mechanism. My earliest memories start around fourth or fifth grade. As far back as I can remember he’s had a drinking problem. In fact, I have very few memories of him sober. He beat my mother first. I remember that part of my childhood vividly. I can still hear the slaps in my head, and the yelling, but the part that is really burned into my mind is my mother’s crying. There were so many nights that I heard her crying as I lay in bed.”
Amanda reached out and touched Ely’s arm as he continued to stir the fire. “I’m so sorry, Ely. No child should have to experience that.”
Ely continued staring into the burning embers, momentarily losing himself in the memories. “That’s when I started listening to music. I remember hearing Mozart in fourth grade, during one of our music classes. The music sort of transported me away from my own reality. It gave me a feeling that helped me forget all the stuff that was going on at home, at least for a while. I made a habit of putting on my headphones every night. Listening to classical music helped drown out the beatings.”
Ely got up and threw another log onto the fire. “You want some hot chocolate?”
“Sure,” Amanda said softly as she tried to imagine what it must have been like to witness that type of abuse, and have to hear your mom crying at night. It was almost impossible for her to imagine.
Ely picked up the thermos and poured each of them a mug of steaming chocolate, then sat back down next to Amanda. He took a sip, staring into the hypnotic flames, not sure where to continue.
Amanda looked at him closely. He was actually a pretty good looking guy, or at least he could be. If he lo
st a little weight she could see how his chin and jawline would be more defined and strong, which would in turn accentuate the fullness of his lips. She also found his eyes intriguing. Long dark lashes accentuated the deep brown color of his eyes, which managed to reflect not only a boyish innocence, but a maturity beyond his years. And she thought it was cute how he bit his lower lip when he was deep in thought, as he was now.
It was his hair, however, that she liked the most, soft waves of golden brown, with auburn highlights that most girls would pay a lot of money to have. There were just a lot of things she liked about him, things that somehow transcended his weight.
“Was that when you also started reading a lot?” she asked, hoping to restart the conversation.
Ely tore his eyes away from the fire and looked at her again. “No, I started reading when he started beating me.” He looked away from her quickly, as if he were ashamed.
“Ely, it’s not your fault you know.”
“I know. I’ve read a lot of psychology books on the subject so I’m well versed on abuse, but despite it all I feel like it was my fault.”
“But, Ely, how could your father’s abusive actions be your fault?”
“It’s not his actions that I blame myself for. I blame myself for my inaction. I did nothing over the years. I allowed him to beat my mother, and myself, and in the end it almost killed her.”
“But you were a boy when it happened. What could you have done? No child is prepared for what happened to you.”
“Maybe,” Ely mumbled, continuing to nudge the coals around in the fire. “But I got older, and bigger…I could have done something then.”
“If you had done something, then he might have shot you,” Amanda reasoned, clearly trying to help Ely understand that he was not to blame for any of the things that had happened to him.
The Life of Ely Page 17