From that point on, Rachelle began to distance herself from me. I think I freaked her out with my admission of visions. She didn’t appreciate or even acknowledge that I’d risked my life for her.
About a year ago, I had a vision of Bobby Krager, a kid who skated occasionally at the skatepark. I had seen very clearly how Bobby would dive headfirst off a bridge into one of the Columbia Basin Irrigation District canals surrounding Moses Lake. His dive was perfect, right into the center of the canal. But then he had a wicked cramp. In the midst of fighting off the muscle spasm in his leg, he was sucked into the powerful current of the canal flowing down through a large corrugated drain tube out onto a spillway. The opening was covered with a series of cross bars we called dragon teeth. I saw Bobby hit the bars headfirst, knocked unconscious and drowned, held in place underwater by the massive current flowing past the teeth. His body hung suspended…his lifeless appendages waved in a ghostly fashion as his body pressed tightly against the bars. Dead eyes stared at me, and blood washed away in a dark cloud from the peeled back flesh on his forehead.
I went straight to Bobby, confided in him about the gruesome details of my vision, and told him stay the hell out of the canals. Bobby ignored me, shunned me, laughed at me, and even talked shit to a few skaters at the park.
Three days later it happened, precisely as I saw it, right down to the last detail. It took forty hours for the Grant County Fire Department divers to find his corpse, which had to be pried off the dragon teeth. No one was laughing about Bobby’s death. His buddies conveniently forgot all about their jokes from a few days earlier.
Everyone pretended I had never said a word. Selective memory loss. I caught some strange looks from the guys who knew, and once in a while someone would remark on how weird it was, but only if they thought I wasn’t listening.
I had learned my lesson twice over. There was little to be gained by telling anyone about my visions.
It’s up to me to do anything about it, if anything can be done. Talk is cheap. Bobby didn’t listen, Rachelle didn’t listen. I doubt anybody at RSC would listen, why bother talking to them about some vague threat of a tractor accident? Who would take these things seriously?
Anita elbowed me in the ribs, waking me from my daydreams. She sat on the bleachers leaned against my shoulder while I was absorbed in thought. She’d been jabbering about who was pairing up for homecoming.
“Did you hear me?”
“Hunh?”
“I said I think Jennifer Marsh is goin’ with T-bone. See how he’s all over her.” Anita pointed to an obnoxious brunette holding hands with a lanky black kid. “I heard him bragging about her – Yo dog, I be havin’ white chicks and stuff.”
“You know what they say, once you go black you never go back.”
Anita raised her eyebrows as though considering the merits of going black. “I wonder if the rumors are true?” She stuck out her tongue and licked her lips as if the idea sounded yummy.
I had a hard time picturing Anita dating a black guy. Didn’t seem to be her type. I followed this line of thought wondering who would be a good matchup for her. She never seemed interested in guys. Apart from some grungy dudes at the skatepark, and me, she didn’t have any other guy friends. Well there was Justin, but that bridge had been burned to ashes.
Anita bumped my shoulder. “So, who are you gonna ask to homecoming?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I probably won’t even go. I’m not much for dancing. I don’t think I can afford a tux anyways.” I shrugged.
I remembered Rachelle in the blue dress. “I guess if I was gonna ask anyone it would probably be Rachelle, but I think you made that pointless.”
“She’s going with Tommy you idiot!” Anita knocked on my skull with two thumps of her knuckles. “Blondes must really scramble your brains hunh?” She teased, but with an undertone of snipish attitude.
“No. Not all blondes.” I looked at her in annoyance, which was when I noticed how truly angry she was.
“What’s your problem? I’m not going, alright. Not with Rachelle. Probably not at all.”
Anita looked away, avoiding my searching gaze.
“Who are you going with?” I snapped.
“No one! Nobody wants to date a blimp. OKAY!”
She was damn near crying. What had gotten into her? Anita the hardcore tomboy? She was never girly about things like dances.
I could tell she was really upset. I put my arm around her, speaking low in her ear.
“You’re not a blimp. You’re not really fat … just … curvy.” I didn’t know what to say. We’d never had a conversation like this before. “Lots of guys like curvy girls.”
I decided to take a risk and just say it. I’d always been able to speak my mind to Anita, “What are you, a 36 double D?”
There it was again, her blush, a very slight change in color. And she could hardly look me in the eyes. “No! Only 34 D.”
I whispered in her ear. “I’ll bet half the guys in this gym would love to get their hands up your shirt. I admit it’s crossed my mind.”
She seemed to have calmed down, she was docile and quiet in my embrace. I began to suspect I had stepped over an invisible line, a barrier I didn’t know existed. Just then the assembly started. I focused my attention on the Vice Principal at the podium. Every time I looked to Anita she was staring at me. And holding my hand.
My mouth went dry, and it was suddenly hot, uncomfortable.
Something had just happened. Yep, I had crossed the line.
Could I ever find my way back across that line to my best friend?
* * * *
My hands and forearms ached with a dull throb as I left the Kittelson farm that evening. Only 8:30 p.m., and physical exhaustion made it difficult to grip the steering wheel. The half mile drive to Stratford Highway seemed twenty miles.
I hadn’t seen Nadia for three days, and I never found out if she had a cell phone. I didn’t have a clue how to get ahold of her or where to find her. She had me worried.
Paused at the highway, waiting for the oncoming traffic to clear, I almost took off when suddenly she was there again, right in front of my car. Exactly like the first time we met. The girl seemed to appear out of nowhere. And just like that first night, I had to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting her.
“Dammit! Are you trying to get killed?” I yelled as she flowed around to the passenger side and climbed in like it was totally normal to hop out of the darkness into the path of my car. Her only answer was a huge entrancing smile. She was happy to see me, and I couldn’t stay angry when she smiled like that.
“Did you miss me?” Nadia beamed.
“Un hunh. You are one strange girl, you know that?” She nodded with a smirk.
It went without saying that she was coming home with me. Again.
I felt I deserved a little more information this time. I snapped, “So, where the hell have you been for three days?”
“Staying away. But don’t worry. I didn’t go too far.”
“Do you ever make any sense?” She never gave me an inch. It was maddening.
“How was work?” She artfully changed the subject.
“You’re not getting off that easy, I wanna know where you go when you’re not … sleeping … in my bed.”
“You really did miss me, didn’t you? That’s so sweet. I didn’t know you cared.” She stared at me with a look of sublime happiness.
I lost patience with the game, “You can’t just disappear on me like that!” She reached out to soothe me, calming with her touch. “I don’t know how to find you,” I admitted.
“You’re gonna have to trust me. I’m not ready to talk about it right now, but someday I’ll explain.” She was so serious all of a sudden, staring at me with those wonderfully entrancing eyes. No way could I stay angry with her, impossible.
“Enough about me. What about you? How was work? Are you okay? You look tired.”
There was simply no denying her. She wanted to listen, and
she was so good at listening to me. So easy to talk to. With a sigh, I pulled onto Stratford to make my way home.
“Everything’s fine, same old same old. Kittelson had me running a weed whacker along the sides of the driveway. I guess there’s some county law about how high your weeds can grow. Where do they come up with that crap? They got a bunch of people sitting around bored, making up stupid laws to justify their paychecks as county officials?”
It was mostly a rhetorical question – just another rant – but she answered me, “Yep, that’s how it works. Isn’t that the American way?”
“Yeah, I guess. So, what, you’re not American?” I watched her as we pulled into the trailer park, hoping to learn something.
“Not exactly, but I’ve been here long enough that it doesn’t really matter. I’m Americanized.” As usual her words didn’t provide any real answers. A bullshit line if I ever heard one.
My Dad’s truck was in the driveway. “Are you up for the window routine again?”
“Okay.” She tried to pretend it didn’t matter as she nodded. But I could see that it bugged her.
“Look, I’m sorry. But I don’t know how to explain this to my Dad. I don’t know how to get you in there without questions.” Questions I didn’t have a clue how to answer.
“I know. It’s okay. Really, I don’t mind.” She was more convincing this time.
I did the window thing with Nadia, and then headed back to the kitchen and cooked up grill cheese sandwiches. With Nadia’s money my diet had begun to improve. I made enough for me and Richard, and one extra for Nadia.
While I cooked, my father gave me his usual update. “RSC already hired someone. I was too late with my application.”
“Oh shit.” I had sort of forgotten that mess. Or tried to.
Instant relief put a smile on my face. I didn’t want Dad anywhere near RSC. “Well, I’m sure something else will come up.” I wasn’t sure at all. He’d been fumbling around about a job for months.
But I was sure happy he hadn’t caught that particular job.
“There ain’t no decent jobs out there, Mike! When a good one comes along it’s a free-for-all. People are scrambling. Guys with college degrees are taking jobs at McDonalds for chrissake! The economy’s a mess. Genie hasn’t rehired the layoffs!”
Richard slammed his hand down on the kitchen table. He was already buzzed, drinking from a tall can of Steel Reserve 211, ‘High Gravity’, the alcoholic’s beer of choice. Steel Reserve held double the alcohol of the average beer.
Dad wasn’t entirely honest. Genie had rehired a bunch of the layoffs from a couple years ago, but they obviously didn’t intend to call Richard Evans back. Maybe it had something to do with the beer can molded to his hand? Probably had a lot to do with that.
“I’m beat, I’m going to bed.” I had no further stomach for listening to my father.
I found Nadia twirling around in circles with my iPod in the center of my room. It was the first time I’d ever seen her behave like a little girl. She was usually freakishly mature, like someone far older and more experienced. I stood there watching her, entranced by the fairy spreading pixie dust magic all over my room. I just knew she would be a gorgeous woman in a couple years.
She spotted me and halted in mid-spin with her tongue stuck out. Removing my ear-buds, she plopped down onto my bed and patted the mattress next to her. I sat down and she laid in my lap and looked up at me with a warm smile.
“So, what’s new?”
It was so simple to tell her anything and everything, and so I did. I told her about my Dad, the unemployment checks that were about to run out any day now, the job he’d missed at RSC because someone else beat him to it. I rambled on about the foreclosure and how I hated living out in bumfuck Egypt in this white-trash trailer park. Whined about my slashed tire some more. All my problems flowed out in a stream, one complaint leading to another and another and another. After a time I realized I sounded like a whiny puke.
“Here, I made you a grilled cheese sandwich.”
She looked at the cold, greasy coagulated-cheesy thing on the plate like it was a cockroach skittering towards her. She shuddered in revulsion. “No thanks, I already ate.”
“You sure?” I pushed the plate at her and she snatched it up and turned on me.
“Positive! Here – you eat it, you’re a growing boy. You need it.”
She tore off pieces to feed me. I’d never been pampered by a girl. The effect was intoxicating. I ate it even though I wasn’t hungry.
Nadia noticed a three-by-five framed picture on my dresser of a woman in her early twenties. The woman sat on the grass, lake in the background, legs crossed, in a white tank top and red shorts. Her hands rested casually on her tanned legs. The resemblance was unmistakable, the thick, wavy dark hair, the same dark eyes. The woman had a sweet loving smile. It was a great picture. She’s beautiful, not a glamorous runway model, but a simple, girl-next-door kind of appeal, a small town girl. It was my only picture of her, my favorite picture. I’d never shown it to anyone but Rachelle, back when we were neighbors.
“She’s your mother.” Nadia had a strange look on her face, like she recognized the photo.
“Yeah, that picture was taken right after she found out she was pregnant with me.”
“She looks happy. Your father took the picture?”
“Yeah.”
I had always wondered how my mother could be so happy, knowing what she knew. Richard never talked about her, so I figured I’d probably never know the answer.
Nadia wiped my mouth with a napkin and stroked the side of my face with the palm of her hand. “Well, I’m here now. I’ll fix everything. You can trust me. Go to sleep.”
I rolled my eyes at her as she reached up to shut off the bedroom light. “Ooookay. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.” She rarely made sense, and I was too tired to care. I was so burnt, I didn’t even shower. I crashed with all my clothes on. Nadia lay down cuddled up beside me.
And same as before, I had the strange Nadia dreams. When I woke in the middle of the night, Nadia was on top of me, staring at me. She had one of those barely-there tank-tops. I could feel her slim torso against my belly, and her pointy chin rested on my chest. She had me in a bear hug, arms and legs wrapped around me. It was kinda kinky. But I couldn’t get past the feeling she was family, a kid sister. A kid sister who couldn’t keep her hands off me.
She kissed me on the chin. “Go back to sleep, Misha. I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.” I’d have to figure out who was taking care of who later. Too tired to think about it just now.
I passed out. Woke up to the same scene in the morning. Nadia had disappeared and there were two $100 dollar bills on my dresser. Whatever she was paying me for, I couldn’t say, but I hoped it was good for her. The money sure was good for me.
* * * *
Chapter 8
Monday, October 4th
“Dude, your locker smells like a skaggy whore. How much did you pay for that date to the prom?” Andrew Kunkle, one of Tommy’s wrestling buddies, snickered at me.
The stink of Beautiful radiated from my locker and wafted down the hall. I could literally taste its flowery smell and the stench began to close my sinuses. All my stuff was saturated in that perfume.
I almost gagged.
“He’s gonna hurl.” Andrew laughed as he walked off with his wrestler buddies. Those guys travel in packs, never alone.
This shit still was not over. God, I wished I’d never posted that stupid video.
Anita caught up with me on my way to first period English. “If I was a Lesbian I’d be all over you. You smell like a Vegas cathouse.”
“Thanks. Too bad I’m not getting any. The virgin whore.”
“Of course you’re not getting any. You’re not even going to homecoming.”
“Sure, rub salt in the wound. Like it isn’t bad enough I smell like teen spirit.”
Anita just watched me with that funny look.
T
he specter of the homecoming dance loomed on the horizon, an ominous event sitting hunched on my shoulders, an ever-present weight at the back of my mind. I didn’t really want to go, but I couldn’t readily dismiss the vision of Rachelle in that dress, looking so damn good, yet flaming mad. I needed to do something about homecoming, but what? With the money Nadia had been leaving me, I could actually afford a tux rental.
But who to ask?
Rachelle wasn’t giving me so much as a glance since our confrontation the other day. I didn’t really have any kind of connection to any other girls except Anita. And Anita – I just didn’t want to go there. She’d been getting weird lately.
At lunch break, I changed into my spare T-shirt to get rid of the perfume stench, and took off downtown to the Safeway deli. Normally Anita went with me, but she said she wasn’t feeling good. Probably a girl thing.
That’s when it happened, the most unlikely of unlikely events. I swear the divine hand of God reached down to create a one-in-a-million opportunity. As I entered the Safeway deli, I observed Tommy Schroeder stomping out to the parking lot. Rachelle was there yelling at his back as he kept on walking, “Just go you pig! I don’t need you anyway!”
The classic scene played out in front of me. Tommy yelled over his shoulder at Rachelle, “Good, you can walk your ass back to school! I’m done with you!”
This was it. God felt sorry for me. Finally.
Like air rushing in to fill the vacuum, I sauntered up to Rachelle. You’d have thought I wore an invisibility cloak. She looked everywhere but at me. I moved in closer until she couldn’t ignore me, and oh so casually made my move, “Soooo … you need a ride?”
Rachelle looked about and tried her best to pretend she hadn’t just been dumped by her boyfriend. She snapped, “No, I’m fine. I’m waiting on a friend.” She couldn’t look me in the eye as she lied.