Not knowing where to go from here we stand
Idle like the record players we once thought were so
Cool until everyone else had one.
Each person passes by like a skeleton
Treading the pavement as we flesh out the details
Of our separate dystopian worlds. Sharing what we
Mostly read in literature. We both think we know
Everything about these creatures we
Examine by watching how they move.
They’re a world away from us, I say.
You say you don’t think so.
Or maybe I hear you wrong.
Under these lights everything is fucked. Who needs fiction?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Anti-Heroes
We could have had everything.
Under the lights in that moment
The world was ours.
All it needs is a hero and
We both think we have what it takes.
But proving it would be too predictable
And so we sit because that is what
Our favorite main characters would do.
We prefer to watch as the secondary figures
Walk by on their way to the rest of their lives
As we smoke each others’ cigarettes and
Wonder what the best way would be
To make sure that this whole scene
Falls apart according to plan.
Of course, we do not think we are
Bad people because of this.
Just because something isn’t the truth
Doesn’t mean it’s a lie.
And we know of no reason
Having what it takes
Means we should try.
Under the lights in that moment
The world was ours.
All it needs is a hero and
We both think we have what it takes.
But proving it would be too predictable
And so we sit because that is what
Our favorite main characters would do.
We prefer to watch as the secondary figures
Walk by on their way to the rest of their lives
As we smoke each others’ cigarettes and
Wonder what the best way would be
To make sure that this whole scene
Falls apart according to plan.
Of course, we do not think we are
Bad people because of this.
Just because something isn’t the truth
Doesn’t mean it’s a lie.
And we know of no reason
Having what it takes
Means we should try.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
The Bus to School
I stood at the bus stop four houses down the road from my own house. It was snowing this morning, slow-moving flurries that had covered the ground in the night. It was kind of pretty actually. Everything was always real quiet when it snowed. I guess a lot of people don’t go out unless they have school or work, but still. And it was morning, there was that.
“Hey, Sellors!” Jamal Allan called out to me. Tall, basketball star, probably a gang member—Jamal Allan doesn’t talk to me.
“It’s Sennors, actually,” I said.
“Oh my B, my B,” he said, coming over to me. “Hey, you do the History homework?”
“No dude, sorry,” I told him.
“Ah it’s cool. Thanks anyway, man.” Oh good, because I was really worried about not having my work for you to copy, I thought as he walked back to his two friends.
Behind Jamal there was a dark figure walking down the road towards us. I watched as it got closer, then realized it was a girl. A girl dressed entirely in black; black jeans, black winter boots, black leather jacket, black ushanka—you know, those Russian hats? Or at least, the ones people wear in movies when they want you to think they’re Russian? The girl had a lit cigarette in one hand and a Slurpee from 7-11 in the other. She could, of course, only be one person: my sister, Clair Sennors- 22 years old, college drop-out, living in my parents’ basement, working as an auto mechanic, and perfectly happy.
“What up baby bro?” she said, coming to stand next to me. Her tongue and lips were bright red from the Slurpee. The snow crunched beneath her feet.
“You know,” I told her, “most people drink coffee in the morning.”
“I’m not most people,” she said.
“Clearly, I mean, most people take the school bus to go to school.” I raised my eyebrows at her. She smiled.
“Yeah baby bro, I think you’re right. Most people.” It was still weird, being taller than her. For most of my life the seven year age difference meant she towered above me.
“Car wouldn’t start again?” I asked, looking for the bus, but only seeing a snow plow pass on a cross street two blocks down.
“Eh, didn’t even try,” she said. “You know Old Ed doesn’t do well with snow.” She took the cap off her Slurpee and caught some snowflakes in her cup, then stirred it up real fast and snapped the lid back in place. Old Ed was her car, and old it was. Really, really, old. And not in a cool way. More so in the way that made you fear for your life every time you got in it.
The bus came, bright and yellow, rumbling down the street at 7:05 sharp. It stopped and Jamal and his friends, Dom and Jordan got on, followed by Nina, a quiet freshman that I hadn’t heard speak not even once. Clair dropped her cigarette and stomped it out with the toe of her boot then climbed on board. I followed with a sigh.
“Hey Gene,” Clair said to the bus driver.
“Hiya Clair, darling! How ya doin’?” he said brightly.
“Great thanks,” I heard her say. You could just tell she was throwing him one of her warmest smiles. She looked completely out of place as she walked down the aisle and sat down in an empty seat. I sat down next to her.
Gene was decrepit. He probably would have driven our parents to school if they had lived on this road twenty years ago. Of course, he loved Clair, remembered her from when she was in school. One day she got on with me and he just beamed like he’d won the lottery, seeing her again. That’s how this whole mess with taking the bus with me got started.
Once we started moving Clair was talking again. “So guess what?” she asked.
“What?”
“I totally banged this guy that looked like Pete Townshend last night. You know, the guitarist for The Who?” I didn’t know. “But like, old school Pete Townshend, not sixty year old Pete Townshend. That would be weird.”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear this.” I told her. See, my sister had this thing for sleeping with people who looked like celebrities. I guess regular people didn’t do it for her anymore. Her number one life goal right now was to get all The Beatles. Including Ringo.
“Oh come on! If I can’t tell you who am I supposed to tell? Dad?”
“How about Sexaholics Anonymous?”
“Screw that. That’s for people who have too much sex. Me, I just have…interesting sex. And believe me, they don’t want the details.”
“Well neither do I!”
“No, really you do.” Really, I didn’t. “I met him at a bar, and Chris I swear to you, this guy even acted like Pete Townshend. He must have been his grandson or something because when he—” I put my hands over my ears. When I saw her stop talking I took my hands down slowly. “You’re no fun,” she said.
The bus rounded a corner and fish-tailed to the far side of the street. A few people gasped but no one really spoke on the bus in the morning and didn’t start now. It was so quiet. I wondered how many people were listening in on me and my sister’s conversation.
“Who’d you go to the bar with on a Tuesday night anyway?” I asked, lowering my voice and slowly changing the topic. She smiled mischievously.
“Grandpa,” she said.
“You’re kidding.” She shook her head no.
“Well,” she said, “it wasn’t previously planned or anything.”
“What does that mean?” She sucked on her straw for a while drinking the last of her Slurpee, indicated by the loud slurping sound it was now making.
“The bartender at Gunther’s called down to the house,” she explained, “said he thought the old man might need a ride home. Mom and Dad were in bed already and I thought, hell, I can get him. So I get to the bar and I figure I’ll just have a drink with Grandpa and he insisted on another and...well the night got away from me. And then, you know, there was Pete.”
“I don’t believe you. Forget Sexaholics, you need AA. Bring the old man with you while you’re at it.”
“Hey, Grandpa’s still got it. He was fine when I got there. Best wing man I ever had.”
“You know what’s bad? I can totally picture this,” I said to her, shaking my head.
“Yeah, yeah.” Clair turned to look out the window. We were nearing the village, where she would get off and go to work in the one and only auto body shop in town.
Really, it didn’t make much sense to me. The girl graduated sixth in her class, went away to school, and came back three months later telling everyone that, as it turns out, college wasn’t for her. So she gets a job as a receptionist at this mechanic’s place, and decides she doesn’t want to do that either. She wanted to work in the shop, on the cars. So Clair being Clair, the owner of the place finds himself completely wrapped around her finger and starts teaching her everything he knows. Now, apparently, she’s a pro. Hell, even Dad lets her work on his car.
“Hey Chris, you got two dollars for the bus?” Clair asked, turning back to me.
“No way. You have your own money.” Clair took out her wallet, opened it up, and stared into the fold. She showed it to me. Empty. “If you didn’t have any money then why did you buy the Slurpee?”
“Didn’t realize how much I spent at the bar until I went to pay for it. Guy behind me gave me a dollar. Kinda looked like Buddy Holly. Without the glasses.”
“All I have is my lunch money.” I reached into my pocket and gave her two crumpled up dollars.
“Nah, keep it. I’ll catch a ride home.”
“You sure? I think the school bus stops running after three…” She laughed.
“You’re funny,” she said. We neared Main Street and Clair stood up. “I’ll catch you later bro. Have fun in school, study hard, make good choices. Yada yada yada.” I stood up and let her out.
“Yeah, I’ll try.” She passed me and started walking towards the front. “Hey Clair?” She turned around. “You too. I mean, have a good day.” She pointed a finger at me and winked, then continued up the aisle.
When the bus stopped she stepped off with a quick “Thanks again Gene, you’re the best!” to which he replied, “No problem Clair, anytime!” and she was gone. I sat back down. The kids at the Main Street bus stop climbed on, not looking at all surprised. I stared out the window and watched my sister walk up the street. She pulled her hat down low on her head and stuck her hands in her pockets, immediately taking one out to wave to someone across the street. I was still watching her as the bus pulled away, taking me to school.
“Hey, Sellors!” Jamal Allan called out to me. Tall, basketball star, probably a gang member—Jamal Allan doesn’t talk to me.
“It’s Sennors, actually,” I said.
“Oh my B, my B,” he said, coming over to me. “Hey, you do the History homework?”
“No dude, sorry,” I told him.
“Ah it’s cool. Thanks anyway, man.” Oh good, because I was really worried about not having my work for you to copy, I thought as he walked back to his two friends.
Behind Jamal there was a dark figure walking down the road towards us. I watched as it got closer, then realized it was a girl. A girl dressed entirely in black; black jeans, black winter boots, black leather jacket, black ushanka—you know, those Russian hats? Or at least, the ones people wear in movies when they want you to think they’re Russian? The girl had a lit cigarette in one hand and a Slurpee from 7-11 in the other. She could, of course, only be one person: my sister, Clair Sennors- 22 years old, college drop-out, living in my parents’ basement, working as an auto mechanic, and perfectly happy.
“What up baby bro?” she said, coming to stand next to me. Her tongue and lips were bright red from the Slurpee. The snow crunched beneath her feet.
“You know,” I told her, “most people drink coffee in the morning.”
“I’m not most people,” she said.
“Clearly, I mean, most people take the school bus to go to school.” I raised my eyebrows at her. She smiled.
“Yeah baby bro, I think you’re right. Most people.” It was still weird, being taller than her. For most of my life the seven year age difference meant she towered above me.
“Car wouldn’t start again?” I asked, looking for the bus, but only seeing a snow plow pass on a cross street two blocks down.
“Eh, didn’t even try,” she said. “You know Old Ed doesn’t do well with snow.” She took the cap off her Slurpee and caught some snowflakes in her cup, then stirred it up real fast and snapped the lid back in place. Old Ed was her car, and old it was. Really, really, old. And not in a cool way. More so in the way that made you fear for your life every time you got in it.
The bus came, bright and yellow, rumbling down the street at 7:05 sharp. It stopped and Jamal and his friends, Dom and Jordan got on, followed by Nina, a quiet freshman that I hadn’t heard speak not even once. Clair dropped her cigarette and stomped it out with the toe of her boot then climbed on board. I followed with a sigh.
“Hey Gene,” Clair said to the bus driver.
“Hiya Clair, darling! How ya doin’?” he said brightly.
“Great thanks,” I heard her say. You could just tell she was throwing him one of her warmest smiles. She looked completely out of place as she walked down the aisle and sat down in an empty seat. I sat down next to her.
Gene was decrepit. He probably would have driven our parents to school if they had lived on this road twenty years ago. Of course, he loved Clair, remembered her from when she was in school. One day she got on with me and he just beamed like he’d won the lottery, seeing her again. That’s how this whole mess with taking the bus with me got started.
Once we started moving Clair was talking again. “So guess what?” she asked.
“What?”
“I totally banged this guy that looked like Pete Townshend last night. You know, the guitarist for The Who?” I didn’t know. “But like, old school Pete Townshend, not sixty year old Pete Townshend. That would be weird.”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear this.” I told her. See, my sister had this thing for sleeping with people who looked like celebrities. I guess regular people didn’t do it for her anymore. Her number one life goal right now was to get all The Beatles. Including Ringo.
“Oh come on! If I can’t tell you who am I supposed to tell? Dad?”
“How about Sexaholics Anonymous?”
“Screw that. That’s for people who have too much sex. Me, I just have…interesting sex. And believe me, they don’t want the details.”
“Well neither do I!”
“No, really you do.” Really, I didn’t. “I met him at a bar, and Chris I swear to you, this guy even acted like Pete Townshend. He must have been his grandson or something because when he—” I put my hands over my ears. When I saw her stop talking I took my hands down slowly. “You’re no fun,” she said.
The bus rounded a corner and fish-tailed to the far side of the street. A few people gasped but no one really spoke on the bus in the morning and didn’t start now. It was so quiet. I wondered how many people were listening in on me and my sister’s conversation.
“Who’d you go to the bar with on a Tuesday night anyway?” I asked, lowering my voice and slowly changing the topic. She smiled mischievously.
“Grandpa,” she said.
“You’re kidding.” She shook her head no.
“Well,” she said, “it wasn’t previously planned or anything.”
“What does that mean?” She sucked on her straw for a while drinking the last of her Slurpee, indicated by the loud slurping sound it was now making.
“The bartender at Gunther’s called down to the house,” she explained, “said he thought the old man might need a ride home. Mom and Dad were in bed already and I thought, hell, I can get him. So I get to the bar and I figure I’ll just have a drink with Grandpa and he insisted on another and...well the night got away from me. And then, you know, there was Pete.”
“I don’t believe you. Forget Sexaholics, you need AA. Bring the old man with you while you’re at it.”
“Hey, Grandpa’s still got it. He was fine when I got there. Best wing man I ever had.”
“You know what’s bad? I can totally picture this,” I said to her, shaking my head.
“Yeah, yeah.” Clair turned to look out the window. We were nearing the village, where she would get off and go to work in the one and only auto body shop in town.
Really, it didn’t make much sense to me. The girl graduated sixth in her class, went away to school, and came back three months later telling everyone that, as it turns out, college wasn’t for her. So she gets a job as a receptionist at this mechanic’s place, and decides she doesn’t want to do that either. She wanted to work in the shop, on the cars. So Clair being Clair, the owner of the place finds himself completely wrapped around her finger and starts teaching her everything he knows. Now, apparently, she’s a pro. Hell, even Dad lets her work on his car.
“Hey Chris, you got two dollars for the bus?” Clair asked, turning back to me.
“No way. You have your own money.” Clair took out her wallet, opened it up, and stared into the fold. She showed it to me. Empty. “If you didn’t have any money then why did you buy the Slurpee?”
“Didn’t realize how much I spent at the bar until I went to pay for it. Guy behind me gave me a dollar. Kinda looked like Buddy Holly. Without the glasses.”
“All I have is my lunch money.” I reached into my pocket and gave her two crumpled up dollars.
“Nah, keep it. I’ll catch a ride home.”
“You sure? I think the school bus stops running after three…” She laughed.
“You’re funny,” she said. We neared Main Street and Clair stood up. “I’ll catch you later bro. Have fun in school, study hard, make good choices. Yada yada yada.” I stood up and let her out.
“Yeah, I’ll try.” She passed me and started walking towards the front. “Hey Clair?” She turned around. “You too. I mean, have a good day.” She pointed a finger at me and winked, then continued up the aisle.
When the bus stopped she stepped off with a quick “Thanks again Gene, you’re the best!” to which he replied, “No problem Clair, anytime!” and she was gone. I sat back down. The kids at the Main Street bus stop climbed on, not looking at all surprised. I stared out the window and watched my sister walk up the street. She pulled her hat down low on her head and stuck her hands in her pockets, immediately taking one out to wave to someone across the street. I was still watching her as the bus pulled away, taking me to school.
Homecoming
The science building was Jenna’s favorite place to stand and look idle. In reality, she was stalking everyone walking through the quad below through the wall-sized window next to the greenhouses.
“How about that one?” she said, “He’s pretty cute.”
Katherine nodded and murmured her agreement.
“Seriously, Katherine?! I was kidding. Cargo shorts and tube socks in the middle of February? Honestly…” She shook her head in typical Jenna fashion, the same way she did when she found out Katherine washed her whites and colors together. “There! That’s the one!” she cried, pointing to a tall, gangly boy with dark hair and a guitar slung across his back.
“Yeah, he’ll do,” Katherine said, trying to play along.
“A little enthusiasm would be nice, you know,” Jenna snapped. She turned to look at her friend and her face relaxed. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m just not really feeling this right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “We still have a few days before Operation Valentine goes into effect.” She looked down at the crowd, a small crease between her eyebrows and a frown on her face.
“Come on, we’ll be late for Lit,” Katherine told her, slinging her arm around Jenna’s shoulders, leading her away from the window.
They managed the stairs awkwardly around the surge of people heading the opposite direction. At the bottom of the stairwell was a short hallway that led to the door outside. Katherine pulled her jacket closed tighter against the winter chill. It was overcast and snowing—just enough to make you wonder if it was really just the wind playing with what was already on the ground. Leaning against the railed fence across the sidewalk was a man in a leather jacket, a sly smile on his face. A man Katherine knew. A man she hadn’t seen in eighteen months.
“Daniel,” she breathed and flew straight into his arms. Daniel, alive. Daniel, all in one piece. Daniel. Safe. With me, she thought.
“Hiya, sweetheart,” he said. His breath in her ear made her heart race wildly. Katherine was so happy she began to cry.
Dan lowered his head towards hers and her lips rushed up to meet his. They kissed passionately for several minutes, their lips never parting, fingertips pressed into each other’s backs. Katherine didn’t care who saw them or what they thought. Until she remembered Jenna.
“No freaking way,” her friend exclaimed. “Who the hell is this?”
Dan repositioned Katherine slightly, gently tugging at her waist so that she was standing beside him. “You must be Jenna,” he said to her. It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact, but she answered anyway.
“Yeah…” she said.
“I’m Daniel Birch.” And with that he reached his hand out to shake hers. Jenna looked like she might as well be meeting the president. She stared at him, but offered her hand after a few seconds.
“Dan is my husband,” Katherine said as soon as their hands were back at their sides. Jenna’s eyebrows flew up.
“Shut up,” she said, “No way. How?”
Katherine looked back at Dan. She still couldn’t believe he was actually here. She wanted to be alone with him so she could memorize every inch of his face once again, without an audience.
“Jen, I’ll explain everything later okay? I promise.”
Jenna shook her head slowly, still in disbelief. There was something else there on her face as well. Katherine tried to pin-point the last time she had seen that face. Then she had it: Halloween last year, Billy Whatshisface making out with someone else. Jenna was hurt.
“Really,” she said to her, “I would have told you, I just…” Just what? Wasn’t sure if my secret agent husband was ever going to come back and didn’t want to worry you? Yeah right, she thought.
“It’s okay,” Jenna said with a shrug. “This is good news. At least now I know you’re not asexual. It makes a lot of sense actually.” God love her, Katherine thought.
She smiled and turned to Daniel. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.
He began tugging her along the walkway to the parking lot. She thought briefly about telling him that the house he knew wasn’t theirs anymore. She had sold it a month after he had left, after he had told her that this time might be longer. It had been lonely in the big house without him, so she moved onto campus into a room with a loveable, obnoxious girl she now calls her best friend. They’d hit it off from the start, and when he still hadn’t returned at the end of junior year, Katherine got an apartment with her. She thought about telling Dan all of this, but chances were he already knew. If he knew who Jenna was, he probably knew about a lot of things.
They walked up to a black motorcycle. Daniel handed Katherine her helmet as a group of boys ogled them with wide eyes and open mouths. Katherine guessed that had something to do with this particular motorcycle. The bike was shinier, newer than his last one. It did not have a logo on the side like his Ninja and she assumed that meant it was better. They hopped on and she wrapped her arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. He started the bike and flew out of the parking lot. The campus buildings passed by in a blur. Burying her head into his back, Katherine closed her eyes and took in the familiar scent of his worn jacket. She still could not believe he was back. It had been so long.
Dan slowed down when they reached town. Katherine couldn’t see his face but she imagined he was happy to be back on a bike again, driving fast just because he could. Daniel treated every vehicle as if it were an extension of his own body. He maneuvered side streets and highways with ease, moving fluidly between other cars in traffic. When they traveled, he spoke the native languages fluently—she’s yet to find one he doesn’t know. There wasn’t much he couldn’t do effortlessly. But his true talent was people. Daniel understood people in a way that most people couldn’t even understand themselves. He knew what made them tick, what made them feel good, what made them hurt others, what they would kill for, what they would die for. It was what made him really, really good at his job.
Sure enough, Dan pulled the motorcycle into the driveway of Katherine’s apartment. They jumped off and removed their helmets. His awaiting smile made Katherine’s whole body tingle. Her heart raced, skipping beats here and there from excitement and the shock of his presence. Nothing compared to the throbbing bliss coursing through her body as Daniel took her face in his hands and planted another slow kiss on her lips. He picked her up easily, cradling her body in his arms. They kissed all the way to the front door. Without hesitating, he entered the house.
“I know I locked that,” she said as he closed the front door.
“I know you did too,” he said, shooting her the devilish grin he reserved for occasions such as this when she called him out on doing something most normal people shouldn’t know how to do.
He went right to her room and placed her in the center of the bed. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. “I love you,” he said, “more than my own life.” He moved his kisses from her lips to her cheek, to her throat, to her collarbone. He removed her jacket. She helped him out of his own jacket and the simple gray t-shirt he had underneath. Katherine was as breathless as ever at his perfect body. They embraced with a passion they had not known for a year and half. Something awoke in Katherine that had otherwise been dead, and she knew why she did it—why he was worth the torment of waiting, not knowing if he would come back to her or what state he would be in if he did.
“Daniel, stop,” she said. He picked his head up from her neck and looked her in the eye. His deep brown eyes were like liquid, pouring right down into her heart. Fresh tears streamed down her face. “I really thought—” she stammered. A sob escaped her chest and she couldn’t continue. Dan sat up and pulled her onto his lap. Katherine leaned her head against his chest and cried. “I thought you died,” she managed.
“I told you I’d never leave you,” he said. His low voice reached deep down in his chest and was loud against her ear. His words made her angry.
“Well, it wouldn’t be something you could help now would it?” Katherine exclaimed. She cried some more and Dan was quiet. His slow, even breaths lay in complete opposition to her ragged ones. She gained control once again and continued. “Your presents stopped coming.” She lifted her head to look at his face. “The increases in my bank account, winning contests for things like free cars that I never entered, the random roses delivered to my doorstep… You never said it was you, but I knew. And when they stopped coming I thought you were gone.”
Dan took a slow breath and held it for a second before letting it out in a quick huff. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have sent those things. I should have known I’d reach a point where it would be too dangerous and I’d have to stop. I didn’t think about what that would mean for you.”
“It’s just that you were gone for so long. How was I supposed to know? I mean, would I ever know for sure if you…” She couldn’t finish. The idea hurt too much. The whole time he was gone her family assumed, as always, that he was away on an archaeological expedition. Jenna hadn’t even known he existed, let alone that he was Katherine’s husband of three years. Their situation was a unique one. She had no idea what to do if he never came back. Who could she have talked to? Katherine knew that answer. It was no one. She could talk to no one.
She watched the sun peek through the clouds and dance against her curtains, throwing glimmering beams of light across the room. They sat in silence. Dan needn’t answer her questions; they’d been through this before. All he needed to know was that she still thought he was worth all of it. And there she was keeping him in suspense; no kinder was his wait than hers.
“I love you,” she said finally, “with all my heart and all my years.”
“It’s hard for you,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how I expect to leave you time after time and come home to find you waiting. It’s asking too much.” He scooted her gently off his lap and turned around to sit on the edge of the bed. She watched as he sat, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands folded. She took a half-hearted inventory of his body, satisfied with the results. Sometimes he came home with gashes, cuts on his hands, bruises on his ribs, a plaster cast on his arm. Not today. He really was okay. His back was mostly to her and she couldn’t think of anything except how wrong it felt. She rested her forehead between his shoulder blades and put her arms around his chest.
“Do you think my world is any more real without you in it?” Katherine asked. He turned to look over his shoulder. Her lips met his. He stared at her with a hunger in his eyes that she couldn’t resist.
“How about that one?” she said, “He’s pretty cute.”
Katherine nodded and murmured her agreement.
“Seriously, Katherine?! I was kidding. Cargo shorts and tube socks in the middle of February? Honestly…” She shook her head in typical Jenna fashion, the same way she did when she found out Katherine washed her whites and colors together. “There! That’s the one!” she cried, pointing to a tall, gangly boy with dark hair and a guitar slung across his back.
“Yeah, he’ll do,” Katherine said, trying to play along.
“A little enthusiasm would be nice, you know,” Jenna snapped. She turned to look at her friend and her face relaxed. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m just not really feeling this right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “We still have a few days before Operation Valentine goes into effect.” She looked down at the crowd, a small crease between her eyebrows and a frown on her face.
“Come on, we’ll be late for Lit,” Katherine told her, slinging her arm around Jenna’s shoulders, leading her away from the window.
They managed the stairs awkwardly around the surge of people heading the opposite direction. At the bottom of the stairwell was a short hallway that led to the door outside. Katherine pulled her jacket closed tighter against the winter chill. It was overcast and snowing—just enough to make you wonder if it was really just the wind playing with what was already on the ground. Leaning against the railed fence across the sidewalk was a man in a leather jacket, a sly smile on his face. A man Katherine knew. A man she hadn’t seen in eighteen months.
“Daniel,” she breathed and flew straight into his arms. Daniel, alive. Daniel, all in one piece. Daniel. Safe. With me, she thought.
“Hiya, sweetheart,” he said. His breath in her ear made her heart race wildly. Katherine was so happy she began to cry.
Dan lowered his head towards hers and her lips rushed up to meet his. They kissed passionately for several minutes, their lips never parting, fingertips pressed into each other’s backs. Katherine didn’t care who saw them or what they thought. Until she remembered Jenna.
“No freaking way,” her friend exclaimed. “Who the hell is this?”
Dan repositioned Katherine slightly, gently tugging at her waist so that she was standing beside him. “You must be Jenna,” he said to her. It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact, but she answered anyway.
“Yeah…” she said.
“I’m Daniel Birch.” And with that he reached his hand out to shake hers. Jenna looked like she might as well be meeting the president. She stared at him, but offered her hand after a few seconds.
“Dan is my husband,” Katherine said as soon as their hands were back at their sides. Jenna’s eyebrows flew up.
“Shut up,” she said, “No way. How?”
Katherine looked back at Dan. She still couldn’t believe he was actually here. She wanted to be alone with him so she could memorize every inch of his face once again, without an audience.
“Jen, I’ll explain everything later okay? I promise.”
Jenna shook her head slowly, still in disbelief. There was something else there on her face as well. Katherine tried to pin-point the last time she had seen that face. Then she had it: Halloween last year, Billy Whatshisface making out with someone else. Jenna was hurt.
“Really,” she said to her, “I would have told you, I just…” Just what? Wasn’t sure if my secret agent husband was ever going to come back and didn’t want to worry you? Yeah right, she thought.
“It’s okay,” Jenna said with a shrug. “This is good news. At least now I know you’re not asexual. It makes a lot of sense actually.” God love her, Katherine thought.
She smiled and turned to Daniel. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.
He began tugging her along the walkway to the parking lot. She thought briefly about telling him that the house he knew wasn’t theirs anymore. She had sold it a month after he had left, after he had told her that this time might be longer. It had been lonely in the big house without him, so she moved onto campus into a room with a loveable, obnoxious girl she now calls her best friend. They’d hit it off from the start, and when he still hadn’t returned at the end of junior year, Katherine got an apartment with her. She thought about telling Dan all of this, but chances were he already knew. If he knew who Jenna was, he probably knew about a lot of things.
They walked up to a black motorcycle. Daniel handed Katherine her helmet as a group of boys ogled them with wide eyes and open mouths. Katherine guessed that had something to do with this particular motorcycle. The bike was shinier, newer than his last one. It did not have a logo on the side like his Ninja and she assumed that meant it was better. They hopped on and she wrapped her arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. He started the bike and flew out of the parking lot. The campus buildings passed by in a blur. Burying her head into his back, Katherine closed her eyes and took in the familiar scent of his worn jacket. She still could not believe he was back. It had been so long.
Dan slowed down when they reached town. Katherine couldn’t see his face but she imagined he was happy to be back on a bike again, driving fast just because he could. Daniel treated every vehicle as if it were an extension of his own body. He maneuvered side streets and highways with ease, moving fluidly between other cars in traffic. When they traveled, he spoke the native languages fluently—she’s yet to find one he doesn’t know. There wasn’t much he couldn’t do effortlessly. But his true talent was people. Daniel understood people in a way that most people couldn’t even understand themselves. He knew what made them tick, what made them feel good, what made them hurt others, what they would kill for, what they would die for. It was what made him really, really good at his job.
Sure enough, Dan pulled the motorcycle into the driveway of Katherine’s apartment. They jumped off and removed their helmets. His awaiting smile made Katherine’s whole body tingle. Her heart raced, skipping beats here and there from excitement and the shock of his presence. Nothing compared to the throbbing bliss coursing through her body as Daniel took her face in his hands and planted another slow kiss on her lips. He picked her up easily, cradling her body in his arms. They kissed all the way to the front door. Without hesitating, he entered the house.
“I know I locked that,” she said as he closed the front door.
“I know you did too,” he said, shooting her the devilish grin he reserved for occasions such as this when she called him out on doing something most normal people shouldn’t know how to do.
He went right to her room and placed her in the center of the bed. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. “I love you,” he said, “more than my own life.” He moved his kisses from her lips to her cheek, to her throat, to her collarbone. He removed her jacket. She helped him out of his own jacket and the simple gray t-shirt he had underneath. Katherine was as breathless as ever at his perfect body. They embraced with a passion they had not known for a year and half. Something awoke in Katherine that had otherwise been dead, and she knew why she did it—why he was worth the torment of waiting, not knowing if he would come back to her or what state he would be in if he did.
“Daniel, stop,” she said. He picked his head up from her neck and looked her in the eye. His deep brown eyes were like liquid, pouring right down into her heart. Fresh tears streamed down her face. “I really thought—” she stammered. A sob escaped her chest and she couldn’t continue. Dan sat up and pulled her onto his lap. Katherine leaned her head against his chest and cried. “I thought you died,” she managed.
“I told you I’d never leave you,” he said. His low voice reached deep down in his chest and was loud against her ear. His words made her angry.
“Well, it wouldn’t be something you could help now would it?” Katherine exclaimed. She cried some more and Dan was quiet. His slow, even breaths lay in complete opposition to her ragged ones. She gained control once again and continued. “Your presents stopped coming.” She lifted her head to look at his face. “The increases in my bank account, winning contests for things like free cars that I never entered, the random roses delivered to my doorstep… You never said it was you, but I knew. And when they stopped coming I thought you were gone.”
Dan took a slow breath and held it for a second before letting it out in a quick huff. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have sent those things. I should have known I’d reach a point where it would be too dangerous and I’d have to stop. I didn’t think about what that would mean for you.”
“It’s just that you were gone for so long. How was I supposed to know? I mean, would I ever know for sure if you…” She couldn’t finish. The idea hurt too much. The whole time he was gone her family assumed, as always, that he was away on an archaeological expedition. Jenna hadn’t even known he existed, let alone that he was Katherine’s husband of three years. Their situation was a unique one. She had no idea what to do if he never came back. Who could she have talked to? Katherine knew that answer. It was no one. She could talk to no one.
She watched the sun peek through the clouds and dance against her curtains, throwing glimmering beams of light across the room. They sat in silence. Dan needn’t answer her questions; they’d been through this before. All he needed to know was that she still thought he was worth all of it. And there she was keeping him in suspense; no kinder was his wait than hers.
“I love you,” she said finally, “with all my heart and all my years.”
“It’s hard for you,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how I expect to leave you time after time and come home to find you waiting. It’s asking too much.” He scooted her gently off his lap and turned around to sit on the edge of the bed. She watched as he sat, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands folded. She took a half-hearted inventory of his body, satisfied with the results. Sometimes he came home with gashes, cuts on his hands, bruises on his ribs, a plaster cast on his arm. Not today. He really was okay. His back was mostly to her and she couldn’t think of anything except how wrong it felt. She rested her forehead between his shoulder blades and put her arms around his chest.
“Do you think my world is any more real without you in it?” Katherine asked. He turned to look over his shoulder. Her lips met his. He stared at her with a hunger in his eyes that she couldn’t resist.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
