"It was nothing, Shad!" Maggie laughed weakly, and it sounded wrong even to her own ears. Her ability to lie to strangers obviously didn't translate to lying to people she cared about. "Everything is okay. You don't have to worry." At least that much was the truth, and the ring of sincerity must have satisfied Shad, because he sighed and proceeded to open his door.
Suddenly, the lights of another vehicle swung around the corner, and a run-down pick-up truck jerked to a halt alongside Irene's classic Caddie. Shad froze in his seat, his hand gripping the open door.
"Shaddy! Is that you, baby? Shadrach! Come help me with my bags." A thin, black woman with matted corn-rows hanging half way down her back tumbled out of the driver's seat and was pulling odds and ends out of the back of the poorly parked truck. Apparently, Malia Jasper had decided to come home. Maggie looked at her young friend and wondered what was worse, losing your mother to death, like she had, or losing her year after year, over and over again, every time she decided to split.
The door to the little house opened, and Gus's thin frame filled the doorway, backlit by the blue glow of the television. He flipped on the porch light, and even from the harsh shadow, Maggie could see the strain on his face.
"See you tomorrow, Mags," Shad sighed like he carried the weight of the world, or at least Honeyville, on his shoulders. He stepped out of the car and shut the heavy door behind him.
"Shad!" Maggie called after him, wondering if she should hang around for moral support. Shad leaned down, sticking his head through the partially opened window. “Please go, okay, Mags? Just .....just go, okay?" He pleaded sweetly, and Maggie nodded her consent.
He withdrew his head, and Maggie backed out, wishing she could help, but knowing that there wasn't a damn thing she could do. Yep, life sucked sometimes.
***
Maggie wasn’t sure what had awakened her – but the moonlight shone brightly through her open curtains, and the room was lit up in white moon glow. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up, disoriented and grumpy. She cried out in terror as a big man suddenly loomed at the end of her bed. He didn’t lunge for her or seek to silence her scream, but instead lumbered over to the cushioned window seat that jutted out below her big window that looked out over Irene’s flower garden. She knew him…he’d been in her room before.
With some difficulty, Roger Carlton knelt beside the window seat and pulled the cushion off. Inserting a key into a little lock that had been covered by the pillow, he lifted the seat, exposing a hollowed out area that looked empty except for the large book of some sort that he pulled from inside. Grunting heavily, he heaved himself up, shut the lid, and then sank back down on it. When he opened the heavy tome, Maggie could see what looked like newsprint and black and white photos.
The ghost of Roger Carlton perused the pages slowly, one by one. Maggie couldn’t see what he was looking at, but he seemed absorbed by what he studied, his face twisted in concentration. She knew he wasn’t really in her room. This was simply something he’d done many times when he was alive, and she was getting a repeat performance…again. The book he read may very well be sitting inside the window bench at this very moment, or it could have been moved before he died. Still, her heart pounded and her limbs shook as she watched him finger the words and pictures intently, turning a page only after staring at the previous one for what seemed an eternity.
Suddenly, his image winked out, and Maggie was left staring at the empty bench, its cushion restored, completely alone in her room. On shaking legs, she crept from her bed and pulled the thin cushion from the bench. She tried to lift the lid as she had seen Roger do, but it was locked tight. Maggie stood, looking out the window into the backyard at the light and shadows that colored the empty flower beds, leafless trees, and bristly shrubs in varying shades of grey. She would really have to see about getting a new room. This was the second time she’d had to wake up to Roger Carlton. She didn’t think she could stomach sharing her room with his old secrets.
8
“LITTLE THINGS MEAN A LOT”
Kitty Kallen - 1954
Maggie didn't see Johnny on Monday before school, though she came early and waited, trying to dance and failing miserably. She had even called out to him and tried not to be hurt when he didn't come. What had happened? Had the revelation of the year been too much for him? She had thought of a million things she wanted to ask him, and a million things she could have told him. She should tell him how his mother had married, he would like that wouldn't he? She could tell him what Gus had told her, that his mother had never really stopped looking for him, and how she had never believed he had left his brother willingly. But those things were so personal. How could she possibly talk to him about anything like that? The whole thing was a minefield that Maggie was afraid she would have to cross at some point. If she ever got to see him again, that is.
She felt rejected throughout the long morning and was late getting to her first hour class. Her psych teacher called on her three times before she heard him, drawing some laughter from her classmates, and her eyes ached from squinting at the board. By lunch, her backpack was so heavy that she headed to her locker to relieve herself of unnecessary books. Shad was laughing next to her about something he had seen on You Tube. He thought it was hilarious and kept re-enacting the skit for her. Maggie tried to keep up for his benefit but knew she wasn’t giving him the response he sought. She couldn’t help it. She felt absolutely miserable.
She shrugged her crammed book bag to the floor and spun in the combination to her locker. She only got it right half of the time, but this time it sprang open easily. She knelt and unloaded her backpack glumly and was just about to slam her locker shut, when she saw something from the corner of her eye. Maggie’s breath caught in her throat, and her hand fluttered to cover her mouth. Her glasses, perfectly restored, had been placed deliberately on the top shelf in her locker. They weren’t accompanied by a note or hundreds of rose petals, but Maggie couldn’t have been more thrilled if there were.
“Mags?...MAGS!” Shad was getting a little perturbed. “Where are you today, baby? I’m beginning to consider gettin’ myself another girlfriend - “
Maggie giggled, her depression instantly erased. Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed Shad’s cheek, shutting him up mid-rant.
“Sorry Shad. I’ll try to do better…and Shad? I’m not your baby, or your girl.” She laughed again. Grabbing her glasses and swinging her locker shut, she floated down the hall, euphoric.
“No problem, baby,” Shad called after her, clearly cheered by Maggie’s unexpected public display of affection. “It’s all good! I forgive you. You’re still my lady…”
***
On Wednesday morning, Maggie didn't go to school early. Instead, she found Malia Jasper passed out on the back porch, dressed in a flimsy red negligee and towering purple heels. Malia came to after Aunt Irene slapped her sallow cheeks a little and coaxed a cup of hot coffee down her throat. Malia then tried to wheedle a little money out of Irene, but when Irene refused she got ugly and foul mouthed and left on foot. When Maggie left for school she heard Aunt Irene on the phone with Gus, discussing his daughter in low tones.
By Wednesday afternoon, it seemed half of the town and most of the high school student body had either seen or heard about Malia Jasper’s appearance on Main that morning in all her glory. Some of the boys from the football team jeered at Shad when he and Maggie walked down the senior hallway after school. Apparently, the boys had seen Shad’s mother in her sweet nothings walking the street and had pulled over for further investigation.
"What's your momma been up to, Shadrach?" One tall kid in a lettermen jacket and acne scarred cheeks called out to Shad. His friends laughed loudly. "Trevor and I saw her this morning, struttin’ her stuff down Main, didn’t we Trevor?”
“We sure did, Derek. Not too bad for an old lady, Shadrach!” The boy named Trevor quipped.
“So Trevor and I, we pulled over for a sample." The big jerk waggled his
eyebrows and licked his lips. "Not too bad, and cheap, too. It just cost me my lunch money." At that, his friends whooped and cheered and high fives were shared all around.
Shad just walked on by like he hadn't heard, but his eyes filled with tears and his lips quivered. Maggie swallowed the ugly words that threatened to spill out, knowing that Shad wouldn't want to prolong the encounter. She reached her hand down and held his tightly as they turned the corner and left the howls behind them. Shad dropped her hand and ran for the exit as soon as they were out of sight of the group of boys, and Maggie's rage bubbled over. Pivoting, she strode back to where the boys were still huddled around their open lockers. Swinging her backpack as hard as she could, she caught the ring leader in his mid-section, and he doubled over with a startled "OOF!"
"Don't you ever say another word to Shadrach Jasper about his mother again, do you hear me?" Maggie hissed, swinging her bag again, whacking the doubled over jock in the side of his stupid head. One of his friends intercepted the next swing, and her bag fell to the ground as the boy named Trevor bear-hugged her from behind, lifting her slim form off the ground. Maggie kicked her legs, trying to free herself from his brawny arms.
"We got a wild one here, guys!" Derek had recovered from the body blow Maggie had delivered and was trying to save face.
"Maybe she'll give me a quick kiss just like Shad’s momma." His friends responded enthusiastically, jostling each other and slapping his back.
"Come here, blue eyes, you’ll enjoy this." The arms around her tightened, and Derek grabbed at her legs so she wouldn't kick him as he leaned into her with his tongue hanging out theatrically.
Suddenly, all the lockers lining the hall flew open, and books and paper started flying about like a windstorm had erupted inside the school. Locker doors crashed shut only to reopen and slam again. The sound was deafening, and the boys cried out, shielding their heads from projectiles and covering their ears with their hands. Maggie was abruptly dropped as her captor ducked to protect himself. The sudden release sent her to her hands and knees, and in amazement, she watched the bedlam unfold around her.
From start to finish, it could only have lasted seconds, and just as suddenly as it had started, all was still. The cowering boys looked around, dazed. Their arms slowly fell to their sides as they straightened and stared, flabbergasted, at their strewn belongings. The handful of other students that had been in the hallway during the microburst seemed shell shocked as well. After several seconds of stunned silence, everyone began talking at once.
“Holy Shit!”
“What was that?”
“My locker door is dented in – “
“Was that an earthquake?”
“Ow! Something nailed me in the head!”
“Somebody call 911!”
“Oh man! Look at my math book! This thing is shredded!”
“Has anyone seen my lunch?”
“Damn it, whose peanut butter sandwich is this? It’s all over my jacket!”
“I can’t find my homework – help me dig through these papers….”
The cacophony of excited voices layered over each other as Maggie gathered her things and rose tentatively to her feet. Her glasses had fallen off when Derek’s friend grabbed her. She groaned when she saw the big crack in the left lens. She shoved them angrily into her front pocket. She wondered if the school’s disaster insurance would cover their replacement. She snorted out loud. She was pretty sure about what had just happened, and it wasn’t a natural disaster.
And then she saw him. Maggie’s heart galloped loudly in her ears; Johnny stood at the far end of the corridor. No one else seemed to notice him. His hands were clenched by his sides, his stance aggressive; he stood directly in the center of the hallway. A girl walked past him so closely that his shoulder brushed her hair. Her hair rose with static, but she didn’t even lift her head as she continued walking, texting, and popping her gum.
Maggie approached him slowly, fearful that he would vanish like a mirage before her eyes. He watched her come, and his face softened noticeably as she halted a few feet in front of him.
“Hi.”
He smiled at her simple greeting, dimples flashing and then disappearing again.
“Hi,” he replied. “Are you alright?” His countenance darkened as he shifted his gaze back to the boys who still remained in the hallway, now completely unaware of her.
Maggie nodded. “I’m okay.”
Johnny crooked his finger, indicating she follow him. Maggie supposed that was wise. Talking to an invisible guy in the school hallway was probably not in her best interest. He led her to the 2nd floor library, where the lights were dimmed and the door locked, indicating that the librarian had gone home for the day.
The locks released with a barely audible snick, and Johnny inclined his head, “Ladies first.”
Maggie pushed the door open and walked into the library, seeking privacy among the hushed stacks and tall shelves. She liked the way books smelled, and she breathed deeply, wondering if Johnny could appreciate the scents and flavors around him or if that too was lost to him.
“Are you really okay?” His voice was low and serious behind her. “I saw those guys hassling you. I didn’t like it. They shouldn’t be grabbing you like that….I didn’t like it,” he repeated.
“I’m fine. I gave as good as I got.” Maggie laughed a little, shrugging her shoulders. “I didn’t like what they said to my friend. I lost my temper.”
“I missed that part. I’m around, you know, but I’m not aware of everything that’s going on. Frankly, high school isn’t all that interesting.” It was Johnny’s turn to shrug.
Maggie snickered. “You got that right.”
He smirked back at her briefly. “Sometimes the energy spikes high and that catches my attention – like just now.”
“That was your handiwork, wasn’t it? I’ve never seen anything like it. You’re going to start rumors of a poltergeist.”
“I’m not sure what a poltergeist is.” Johnny cocked his head in question.
“It’s a violent ghost,” Maggie supplied, her lips curving slightly.
“Hmmm. Well, I guess that’s not too far from the truth.” Johnny shifted and scanned the books above her head. “So what did those nosebleeds say to your friend that got you so hot?”
“They were giving him trouble about his mother. She’s a bit….loose, if you know what I mean.” Maggie sighed and didn’t miss the tightening in Johnny’s face and around his lips. He studied the shelf more intently, but Maggie was pretty sure he wasn’t interested in what he saw.
“My momma didn’t have a very good reputation. Some of it was deserved. Some of it wasn’t. Nobody ever gave me any trouble about it.” Johnny’s eyes shifted to hers, and then looked away again, “But Billy took some heat over it. I’ll keep an eye on the kid – Shadrach, right?”
“Yes. Shad. He’s a good kid...a little delusional and obnoxious, but very sweet. By the way, you said you would keep an eye on him when we talked last, but he seemed to have taken you by surprise.” Maggie was teasing, but she was curious about how Shad had crept up on them last Sunday night.
“I seem to be unusually unobservant when I am with you,” Johnny confessed with a self-deprecating grin. “I haven’t had too many conversations in the last fifty years. I guess I was completely absorbed.” Maggie could relate – at least with the part about being completely absorbed.
“Your glasses….are they broken again?” Johnny inclined his head toward her glasses, where one end protruded out of her pocket.
“Yes, and you just fixed them for me, too.” Her tone was apologetic, embarrassed even. Thank you, by the way.” She pulled her glasses out of her pocket and ran her finger along the crack. “I hate them…but I need them, too.”
“I can fix them again.”
Maggie slid them onto her nose, and crossed her eyes dizzily behind the damaged glass. “Don’t you think I can get away with wearing them like this?”
“Absolutely. Peepers suit you.”
Maggie blushed, giggling at the old-fashioned moniker, and uncrossed her eyes. Johnny was a faint blur in front of her. Maggie gasped and pulled the glasses off her nose. Johnny became crystal clear once more. She slid her glasses back into position. Johnny faded almost beyond sight. She reached out with both her hands, feeling for him as if she were blind. Her hands brushed his shoulders and chest and slid up his neck and along the firm line of his jaw. Her fingertips stroked up his sand paper cheeks and hesitantly traced the features of his face.
Johnny sucked in his breath sharply and locked his hands around Maggie’s wrists, halting her tentative explorations. Maggie was immediately jolted from her awed ministrations, and she blushed furiously as Johnny released her wrists. She yanked her glasses off, thoroughly embarrassed by what she had just done. The awkward silence in the library was deafening. The roaring in Maggie’s ears was even worse.
“What…was that all about?” Johnny tipped her chin up with the tips of his fingers, forcing her humiliated gaze from her shoes.
“I can’t see you when I’m wearing my glasses!” Maggie blurted out, worrying her bottom lip nervously. “I reached out to see if you were actually still there, even if I couldn’t see you…. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.” Johnny’s quiet response hinted at suppressed mirth. “I was just surprised. You have no idea how it feels to be….. touched….again.” He reached out hesitantly and ran one long finger along the smooth curve of her cheek bone.
Maggie’s breath hitched and stuttered, and her skin felt deliciously hot beneath his brief caress. She fought the urge to close her eyes and lean into his hand. His fingers left her face reluctantly.