Chapter 12
Fifty-four more minutes later, not that I’m counting or anything, he pushes his plate away. Hallelujah and amen.
I watch him with my chin on my fist, fascinated at how long he can go without breathing. His record over the past hour is fifteen Mississippi’s. Super impressive. I wonder if the lack of oxygen causes brain damage, which in turn compromises his social inhibition thereby both perpetuating and increasing the nonstop talking behavior.
“So, at Comm. HQ in the city, I’m the youngest one there by three months and twelve days. Nobody else usually gets apprenticeships at HQ. You usually have to work at a local outlet for at least two years. My instructors wrote me some great recommendations, though, and made some special calls for me.
“And plus I was the valedictorian of my class. You were too, right? Why you chose this measly outpost I do not know, but I guess you wanted to be with your family, huh? You’re so sweet. You should have come to the city, though.
“Anyways, at HQ I work with the two five-o’clock news anchors. That’s the feed your island gets, right? Since your mother. I think it’s better this place just covers weather and almanac. It makes more sense, being what it is. But being a news anchor, that’s what I want to do. Not just anybody can do it. You have to be a real leader, which I am. I did my sophomore thesis on the quantifiable qualities of great leaders throughout history, and then I compared myself to them. You read it, right? I have a lot of the most influential traits that they had. I actually scored higher than them on some measures. Of course, some were easy to beat. Like height. Most voted-in leaders are tall, but with the nutrition program I’m easily taller than 98% of the men I studied. The nutrition program is perfect for everybody. You, too. Who was your chaperone? She did an amazing job finishing you. I saw that picture on the stairs from before. Of course, anything is an improvement over those jumpsuits. But now you’re just as attractive as your cousin there, you know, the angry one. I don’t know why people say any different.”
I really hope Eleni’s not still in the bushes. Probably not, because she’s not stupid.
“And intellectually and discipline-wise you’re much more preferable over her. You’re pretty enough where anything extra like those two things can cancel out a multitude of sins of beauty. Some men just look at the beauty, but not me. I look at other stuff too. And you’ve got plenty of other stuff, even without considering the influence of the academy. In fact, you know you’re not really like most people from the academies. I was expecting something really different. But it’s ok. I actually like this better. It’s like you were only half there, kind of. You’re sort of soft.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like it. But don’t worry. Now that you’re marrying me, once you finish your service you can stop with all that. You’ll like that, won’t you? I thought you would. See? I already get you. This is going to work out great.”
I’ve tried yawning three times. The last time I didn’t even cover my mouth.
“And tomorrow, I’m going out to interview some lobstermen for a special segment for when I get back to the city. My producers were so excited that I was coming here. They can’t wait until they have one of their own anchored in the Islands again.”
I look out on the silky black water. Ask it to calm me and grant me some more patience. Because the stuff I prayed for this morning is all run out. I squint at it. I don’t think it hears me. It just lounges out there, gorgeous as always.
I sigh. Again.
There are faint shouts coming from the beach. Absolutely sure that Andrew won’t notice, I look over my shoulder to see what’s going on.
Someone’s redirected the electric lights with some old bits of sail and duct tape, and shined them over onto some wonky figures. Seems like they’re having a really nice time. I wish I was a drunken fisherman.
I hear what we’d call in human acoustics class a rising juncture from Andrew’s drone so I give a noncommittal “Hm.” He goes on some more so I guess that answered that.
I hear a solid cheer from the beach, so I have to look again. They’ve made a pen with fuzzy outsides and a sharp inside that’s holding in three of them. I bite the side of my tongue. I just thought of something.
I think about it, I really do, but I can’t stop. My hand darts across the table and I catch Andrew’s arm.
“Oh, Andrew! It’s a party, come on, let’s go. We’re missing it.”
I hope he takes my solid grip for enthusiasm, and I yank. The table jostles, but he’s moving so I don’t stop.
On the way over, I thank the forefathers that this boy they’ve given me doesn’t seem capable of walking and talking at the same time.
I’ll have to remember that.
I hurry him through the opening in the seawall and we slush our way across the beach, washed up rocks chiming at our approach. I could swear I hear the seashells giggling as we pass.
I think it must be the tail end of one of my Uncle Groton’s meetings. I’m not really invited to these meetings, they’re just to talk about business and to rehash any interesting news anyone’s collected from crossing paths with fishermen from other islands. Then he makes sure they all know what their jobs are for the week.
When he was little, my brother used to try to crash the meetings with Gino’s older brother, and they’d either show up back at the meetinghouse with pouty scowls and an intense desire to run full speed through the kitchen, or they’d stride in, very businesslike, discussing little plans that they would never tell me no matter how much I whined. Or kicked.
I never saw the grown men again, though, until the next morning. I finally figured out a few years ago, one night in between semesters when I’d come down to the docks to read something under the lights, that the only reason anyone who isn’t an overexcited little boy sits through those meetings is because afterwards my Uncle Groton always does a tasting.
He has to make sure his product is good enough to sell with his name, I heard him say. Anywho, there’s lots of alcohol and the men all stand around it, joking and saying and doing things that would get on my aunts’ nerves, if they were there.
Andrew and I come to the unoccupied curve of the beach and start along the low walkway that slips out alongside the boat launch. Great grandmothers, even here the breeze is rancid with fumes. I decide this is close enough. I’d rather not throw up on Andrew and my first date.
We sit down. I take my shoes off and drop my legs in. They’re submerged all the way up my calves, but it feels good. The water is barely lukewarm.
Andrew crosses his legs and sits beside me. Then he has to uncross them. His limbs are thick and solid, but they seem to have a hard time folding. He finally gets into a position and stays there. He looks down at my hand longingly. I giggle and his eyes slip up, catching me for a moment.
“What are they doing?” he says.
I shrug, “Who knows.”
Some of the men’s heads turn towards us, enough that I think they must be talking about us. I tense up, ready to dismiss myself with Andrew. Being shooed away isn’t a good first date activity, I don’t think. Too awkward.
I wait for them to call out to us, but instead a few wave in what I’m pretty sure are hellos. My Uncle Groton gestures at us over his shoulder. It’s then that I realize who he’s talking to.
The brothers Lium and Hale stand before him, nodding and nodding. Lium keeps glancing over my uncle’s head. I wave but he doesn’t wave back. Dumb boy. They then disappear into the cluster.
My zizi would certainly have an opinion on this, but she’ll only want the business report from tonight, roll her eyes at the rest. This is good because I don’t think she’d be impressed by my dating skills at the moment. Using my uncles as a sideshow so I don’t have to talk to Andrew for a few minutes. It’s terrible of me. But I can’t help that I kind of like it. Actually, I really like sitting next to Andrew like this. I think there’s something quietly romantic about it, just the voices carrying across the water
, the slinking ripples on the pillars, the creaking as Andrew shifts his weight.
“Whoa-ho-ho!” he says.
“What?”
“Look, they’re fighting.”
I try to see through the men’s wavering backs.
“Where?”
“Ah, man! Right there. Oof.”
“I can’t see,” I pout.
“Ugh,” he chuckles, “Looks like some kind of boxing match. Hey, you want to go back? This really isn’t a lady’s sport.”
“Nah, that’s alright, like I said, I can’t see it anyways.”
He shrugs, “Ok. We had something like this on the base in the city, you know. People would get dressed up and go out to watch. But I have to say, I never understood why the women would go. I myself find something about it distasteful, if you must know.”
“Probably just for entertainment,” I say, still grumpy.
He shifts around again, grunting. “So. Crusa.”
“Andrew.” Oh, but he’s very serious. I pull my legs above the surface and fold them. I turn to him.
The boy takes my hand with the bracelets and holds it gently. “Crusa. I want to talk to you. About what we’re doing.”
Oh, sweet forefathers. I feel a deep pang of dread. I was hoping we could just skip this sort of talk, since we don’t have much time anyways.
“Ok,” I say, very controlled.
“So. We’re getting married.”
“Yes.”
He sighs.
I fidget. I should be nicer.
“I want you to know, I take marriage very seriously. I want to be devoted to you and our family for as long as I live. I’ll provide for you, I’ll be faithful to you. I swear all this.”
I’m stunned, I think. I definitely don’t breathe, I know that. The squirming that Andrew is doing now seems alien, even though I was just doing the same. It should be impossible now.
“I like you, Crusa.” He pauses, then, “Can you see yourself married to me?”
My voice comes out stringy and high, but I somehow manage to say, “Yes.” It doesn’t feel like enough, though, so I pump my head up and down so forcefully that the boy laughs and holds my cheeks. I’m dizzy and I blush.
Then I scream and cringe into a little ball.