by SJ Cavaletti
“Maeve!”
Up on the bow was Drake, shouting my name and waving at me with Jasmine right next to him, doing the same.
I walked now, wanting to look just a tad bit cooler, and when I got to the edge Drake threw down a rope ladder. Sadly, nobody but a Navy Seal looks sexy climbing a rope ladder. But I made it up, eventually. And all the exercise had warmed me up, something for which I could be grateful.
Getting to the top of the hull, Drake offered me an arm and hoisted me up.
“Wow,” I said, “Can’t believe you saw me.”
He chuckled. “I saw you stumble down the spider web.”
Embarrassing.
“Oh. Yeah. Remind me not to take on El Capitan.”
He looked at me blankly.
“It’s, you know, the big rock wall in Yosemite. I think…”
“Ah…”
I smiled, suddenly feeling awkward, but then Jasmine hugged me from behind and lifted me off the ground. She was drunk.
“Aloha, Maeve!” She shouted. “Waddup sista!”
She picked me up in her arms, and Drake laughed as he watched Jasmine toss me around like a rag doll. She put me down. Wasn’t expecting that, but these guys were surely several drinks, and whatever else, ahead of me.
She put her arm around me again, affectionately, “You come to dance with us, girl?”
“Yeah, well… I didn’t come here to sleep, right?”
Suddenly, some new song came on the speakers of the ship.
Bass.
Booming electronic music surged through Jasmine. It rose from her toes to the ends of her hair and she jumped in the air.
“Oh!!!” She shouted, loudly, slurring slightly, “That’s Pika’s song. Where’s my boy?”
She wandered off to find him without saying goodbye.
I turned to Drake. “She’s cute. And very strong.”
“Yeah. She does that. Pick people up. Sorry about that…”
“No problem. Haven’t been picked up like that, well, ever. An Uyu welcome.”
“She’s a crusher sometimes. Just full of love, I guess. And shots.”
“Ha,” I pushed some hair behind my ear and smoothed my bangs, “Yeah.”
Suddenly I wondered if maybe he was with her. She was super pretty. He obviously cared for her.
“It’ll be a brave man to take her on,” he tossed his head back, flipping some of his black curls off his forehead, “Anyway, I’m glad you came.”
And that man wasn’t him.
“You are, are you?” I tilted my head to the side, looking up out of the corner of my eye, demurely.
Was I flirting? Shit. I was flirting. I never flirt.
“Yeah. I wanted you to come. And everyone else, too,” Drake paused and looked at me confidently enough to make me look away. He was good.
He took my arm by the bicep, like a gentleman. “Let’s go up on the bow. Best seat in the house and we’ll probably be taking off soon. The captain doesn’t rest for long. A few people wanted to climb the web, so he dropped them off. Lucky chance seeing you there.”
His hand was huge and wrapped almost entirely around my arm. Lingering around the five-foot mark, five one on a good day, I had no idea why I only dated men over six foot. But big hands, like Drake’s, turned me on.
I bet they looked hot strumming his guitar.
Even though I hated musicians.
I swear.
We arrived at the bow.
“There’s a bench,” he pointed, “You can see everything, come.”
By now, he had let go of my arm, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to do it again. His touch, warm against the night. Anybody would want it.
We sat down in the ship's bow and I looked over the Uyu skyline. We were about twenty feet above the ground, overlooking a completely flat salt plain.
The many dim but glowing spotlights were like nothing I could describe. Maybe this was what it was like on a planet with more than one moon.
“I love just looking out, all the space,” Drake said, staring out, me admiring his perfect nose. "It reminds me of the moment, when you’re watching a sunset and it’s almost too dark to see anything, but the light stretches out one last time from the horizon. For one last goodbye. Like a goodnight kiss.”
Who was this guy? And how many times would I ask myself that question? The way he described the Plain, maybe Koa was right. Beneath the leather was a poet.
Drake looked out, and I let myself admire his face for a moment longer. A manly nose, a muscular jaw, lips every woman would die to kiss.
Stop, Maeve. Stop perving.
“I brought you something,” I said, fishing around in my satchel, I found the small bottle of Jaeger. “Thank you for sharing yours. And,” I tucked some hair behind my ear, “For not taking no for an answer. It’s nice to have the invitation. To hang out with you and your friends. Because…yo“ I took a deep breath, “You guessed correctly. I am here alone. I mean, I’m with Sedna but… essentially alone.”
He took the bottle
“Ah, thanks.” He rubbed a thumb across the bottle and attacked me with his gorgeous bedroom eyes, not hiding that he was happy to hear I was alone.
“Why are you here alone? Nobody wanted to come with you?”
“It’s a long story.”
“All stories are.”
He said no more. Waiting for me to tell it. Giving me space to speak. Rare. This was rare. Most people thought about the next thing they wanted to say, even if they asked another question.
Drake actually waited for the answer.
“It’s not really a fun story,” I said.
He nodded his head up and down. “Do a shot with me?”
He lifted the bottle of Jaeger toward me and twisted the screw top. “You’re like a pro. Never seen a lady down Jaeger without blinking the way you do.”
His smile. Those teeth again. And dimples.
“Let’s just say I needed it.”
He handed me the bottle for the first swig.
“No, really, you take the first.”
He put the neck in his mouth. When he pulled it back, his pouty lips curved into a half smile. “I’m trying really hard to be as cool as you were.”
One of his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t know how you do it without flinching. Shit’s hot.”
“I’m just good with spice.”
His eyes flashed wickedly. “You like things spicy?”
I lifted an eyebrow. He was spicy.
He took another small swig. “So. Back to the question. Because Maeve, I find that people usually want to answer questions. But if you don’t ask them twice, they don’t think I really want to hear the answer. Know what I mean? So why are you here alone?”
Why did he want to know? His flirty looks and that one liner at Magpie told me one thing. He might want to know if I had a boyfriend. Or maybe he just wanted to know if I had any friends.
I grabbed the bottle from Drake and took another sip. I needed the liquid courage. I had to talk about my Dad one day. I needed practice. Which would be easier to do with a stranger. When you tell a stranger someone you love died, they just feel awkward and sympathetic, but you don’t have to worry about their feelings. If you share the grief with your confidente, it’s like fighting fire with fire. Neither one feeling any better.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “People aren’t very good listeners, are they?”
“When I saw you at Magpie,” Drake said, “You and your death stare… I knew you had a story, Maeve.”
I laughed lightly. And hoped he’d change the subject, but he didn’t. He waited for me to speak. After a few beats, wishing one of his friends might come and interrupt, I formulated the words.
I was good with words. I always had been. I wanted to be a lawyer because putting together logical strings of letters and punctuation was my strong suit. But it was like speaking a foreign language this time.
Eventually, I blurted it out.
“My Dad die
d. Normally he comes with me.”
Drake had the bottle at his lips and brought it down without taking his drink. His velvety eyebrows furrowed and his eyes melted. But he said nothing, just passed the bottle. And I took it, gladly.
He shuffled his body closer to mine and wrapped his long arms around my body in a hug. My body resisted at first, rigid, but for only a moment until I leaned into him, letting the comfort he offered soothe me. My head rested on his shirt, comfortable on a very voluptuous pec. His cologne smelled like cedarwood and ginger. I pulled back.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Yeah. Course.”
Again, he said nothing more. I wasn’t used to being given a turn. In L.A. every man I had ever been with loved the sound of his voice more than mine. Drake was patient.
Should I really tell this stranger the entire story? Part of me didn’t want to, but mostly, I did. My heart pinched with the burden of having this responsibility, of hurting my Mom to love my Dad. A problem shared is a problem halved, they say. It wasn’t natural for me to talk about my issues, but I was safe here. Drake could never let anyone in my life who mattered know about this moment of weakness.
I took a deep breath, “So, he died a little over a week ago and you know that round, globe-y thing in my tent?”
He shook his head.
“That’s his urn.”
Mouth wide open, I could see the man’s tonsils.
“Yeah, I know. Weird, huh?” I smoothed my bangs. He must think I’m a freak. I had a dead person in my tent. Even for Gypsie that was over the top.
“Whoa. Yeah, never heard one here before. Sorry to be shocked but… damn.”
“I know. Don’t think it’s settled in for me, either. It’s kind of intense.”
“So why do you have his ashes here? And you’re alone…?”
“He and I came here twice before he got sick and he loved it. I mean, that’s an understatement. Anyway, he asked me to, you know… spread his ashes here. It wasn’t my idea or anything. Not that I think it’s a bad one per se.”
What would Drake think of this? Who knew? But it felt pretty good to get it off my chest.
Drake blinked. His nose twitched. He bit his upper lip, thinking. Finally, he said, “But, why are you alone?”
This was the part that made me sound bad.
“Good question. Basically, my Mom didn’t want me to do it. It’s a shit situation. On the one hand, my Dad asked me to do this. He even knew and said that my Mom would forbid it but told me to do it, anyway. And of course, my Mom wants to keep his ashes at home forever. What’s an empty urn worth, right?”
He shook his head. “This is a big deal. No wonder you were an asshole to me at Magpie. You have bigger fish to fry.”
I slapped his arm gently, grateful he lightened the mood. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t feel uncomfortable talking about the gritty side of life. Who didn’t want to rush me into feeling better or resolving things for the sake of their own good time.
I looked out over the horizon. He was right, nothing could be bigger, to me anyway, than what I was about to do. For all I knew, my Mom would disown me after this.
I felt Drake’s hand on my shoulder. “You must feel pretty lonely right now.”
Turning away from the Plain, my eyes met his. They were full of something. Not sympathy. No. It was something else.
Solace.
“You’re deep for a musician,” I tried to lift the mood.
“That’s a weird thing to say. Aren’t all musicians deep? How can you write lyrics if you aren’t deep?”
“Well, maybe that’s why most lyrics suck.”
“Ha. Maybe. So when are you going to do it?”
“You mean spread his ashes?”
Drake shook his head. A curl bounced, then settled on his forehead. It cheered me up just a little. I was hot for his curls. Even while talking about all this serious stuff, I still wanted to grab his head of hair in my fist.
“He asked me to do it at the clock tower burn. Last night. You are going to think my Dad was a nutcase, and he totally wasn’t at all, but he wanted me to scatter them when the drag queens come out for their parade.”
An amused smile. Drake dragged his hands through his raven hair. “Your Dad must have been some guy.”
I couldn’t help but smile, too. It sounded ludicrous. “He was definitely special.”
A part of me wanted to justify that my Dad wasn’t some cuckoo. This request made him sound like some beach bum pot smoker. But by rewinding and explaining that he was actually a music mogul millionaire didn’t honor this very important and special part of my Dad. So, Drake could think what he liked. He was my Dad, and I was proud of every part of him.
Drake took my hand. I looked down. Mine, totally engulfed, his compassion coursed up through my arm and into my heart.
“I’d be honored to join you, Maeve,” he said, “It’s really not the kind of thing you should do alone. You can say no but, I dunno, maybe before the parade on Saturday I can write a song in his honor? It’s just… yeah, you shouldn’t be alone for this.”
His eyebrows furrowed in earnest. It didn’t feel like just another drunk flakey offer. Still…
First response? No fucking way.
But unlike other people, I was trying to undo my instinct rather than follow it. “Thanks, Drake. Yeah. Ok. Guess I’ll see you there.”
8
Oh shit. What did I just offer?
I had to. Maeve couldn’t be alone for something this huge. It was once in a lifetime shit. And if I thought I was under pressure to get this song right, how was she going to feel? In all my times coming to Uyu I had never heard anything like it.
This story was like a sucker punch. Winded. Not like this was a downer to my party winded. Like it was time for me to come down to earth winded.
The ship jolted. Maeve lost her balance, and I caught her by the arm.
“Thanks,” she said as I pulled her back up to standing and she took her seat again. She seemed to sit closer to me this time, but I wasn’t sure. She tucked a tuft of hair behind her tiny ear that peeked out, cute and I couldn’t resist thinking it looked like it needed a nibble.
She straightened her bangs, which weren’t in the least bit out of order. Her hair belonged on a runway. A far cry from the disheveled dreadlocks a lot of women wore here.
Just then, Pika and Joey rolled up.
“Hey!” Pika said looking at Maeve, “Our girl! What’s up? Joined us after all?”
“Yeah, I…” she looked at me, the way she looked at me, like I made her feel safe. That look was everything. “I’ve always wanted to come on the ship. How could I pass that by?”
“Right?” Joey said, and music started blaring again in the background as the ship glided through the vast expanse that was Center Camp. The rest of my crew rolled up, including the Cougars, and the deck of the ship started filling with more people, a makeshift disco.
Flick wandered over in a two-step motion toward where Maeve and I sat. She was wasted. She stopped in front of us, rolled her shoulders seductively, her eyes at half mast. She put her arms in the air and rolled her hips. Then she looked at me, “Come dance!”
I looked at Maeve. She hadn’t noticed Flick. Her gaze transfixed on the Plain. She took it in with sleepy, drunk eyes, nodding her cute head from side to side to the music, passively. The Jaeger, the second batch, had kicked in. She looked so innocent and cute, and if I didn’t know any better, now was my chance to get her to have a dance. Even if it was to music we both hated.
I stood up, and she noticed.
“Are you going?” She asked.
“No,” I said, holding out my hand for her to take, “We’re going. Just over here. On the dance floor.”
“I don’t dance to techno…” But she stood up, anyway.
“You do tonight. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you sold out.”
She laughed, and I took her petite hands in mine. A strange feeling surged throug
h my palms, feeling her skin. It almost tickled. Tingled. Her skin so soft, I had to resist caressing them. I couldn’t let her know how crazy hot I found her. She’d think I was a sicko to hit on her after that confession.
Now that I knew about her mission, how vulnerable she was, I couldn’t possibly make a move. But I sure as hell wanted to. When I touched her, it was like being underwater. Everything slowing down. Heavy but weightless at the same time.
What was going on here?
It must be the Jaeger.
Time to dance it off.
I guided her a few feet from our bench near the crowd where my crew danced. I still had her hands and as she pretended to resist the bass line, I put her arms in the air and wiggled them, jokingly, to see her smile again. She flashed her pearly whites that lit up like the surrounding neon. Her red lips glowed and curled up in a smile.
She gave in. A burst of light in my heart. Nothing feels better than picking someone’s heart off the ground and helping them put it back in their chest.
I watched Maeve close her eyes, find the downbeat and sway her shoulders and hips back and forth, giving in to the rhythm, giving in to the energy of the crowd around her, around us.
The Jaeger made me do it. I put my arms around her lithe waist. She opened her eyes and smiled again, which made me flash one, too. Reaching up, she placed her hands on my shoulders and it felt like a robin had landed on each, her touch as delicate as a bird’s feet. Impossibly light, but so very there.
We bounced around, the EDM hardly being romantic, it was hard to keep hold of her, the music lover in me knew that this wasn’t a waltz.
I let go of Maeve so she could do her thing, and she surprised me. All hell broke loose. She put her hands in the air again, twisting, writhing, like a sexy snake.
Keep dancing, Drake. Don’t stare.
Maeve didn’t catch me gaga, but Jasmine did. She tapped me from behind and I whipped around. The music was loud, she gestured for me to bend down so she could talk in my ear.
“You need help hoisting your jaw back in place?” She asked.
“What?” I said into her ear.
“Maeve. I’ve never seen you be obvious before.”
“I never had to try before.”