Every day, Marisa’s grandfather would take his lunch at the exact same hour each day and leave the keys to the metal and glass cabinet inside a locked drawer in his hundred year old desk. The key to this desk hung on a ring that he kept with him at all times. The good doctor felt safe in thinking there would be no way those viles could be stolen, short of breaking the cabinet itself. At the end of his work day, he would place that key ring in a bowl on a table in his foyer.
Two weeks prior to Thanksgiving break, Marisa Hartford snuck into the foyer when she knew no one would be around and stole the singular key that opened the desk to gain access to the keys to the cabinet that held the tiny viles she so hazardously required.
“I’m gonna’ get the mail,” she screamed to her mother in the kitchen.
“No need. I’ve already gotten it,” her mother said, but Marisa pretended not to hear.
She walked to the end of her hundred yard driveway, the burning ember of a lit cigarette, her only guide.
“Jesse?” She asked.
“Don’t say my name, stupid.”
“Sorry,” she apologized.
She handed him the key.
“I’ll be back in an hour. Keep your cell phone on,” he ordered and rushed to his Mustang parked a hundred feet away.
Marisa hung her head back toward the house and opened the door.
“I told you Marisa, I’d already gotten the mail.”
“Oh,” Marisa lied, “I didn’t hear you.”
Marisa felt a stone settle heavily in the pit of her stomach. It was a stone heavy with shame and she would continue to add more and more, eventually weighing herself down enough that she would forget to eat by the week’s end.
Marisa received a text from Jesse Thomas thirty minutes later, telling her to meet him at her bedroom window. She quietly went to her room and was back out in less than five seconds with the key in hand. She acted as though she was searching for something on the foyer table and made enough noise to distract the family from her true task. She replaced the key back into the exact order she found it and walked into the kitchen acting as cheerfully as she could without arising suspicion.
The next day at school, Marisa met Jesse outside of her car to pick up the key he had made. She could have taken the key that night but she didn’t want to take the risk of owning that on a night she was acting strangely as it was. You see, Marisa’s mom checked up on her thoroughly. I’m guessing she saw a deficiency in her daughter and didn’t know how to compensate and Marisa knew this. She took the key from Jesse and he barely acknowledged her.
I felt sorry for Marisa when I learned of this information, such low self esteem. Who, in their right mind, would sink so low for further social gain? For any reason really?
The week of Thanksgiving break, Marisa ‘volunteered’ to cover the reception desk at the clinic because she ‘needed money’. In fact, Marisa ‘volunteered’ to cover the desk every night that week and, while her grandfather ate, she would steal away and remove the cabinet keys from his desk, and methodically extract an exact measured amount of the horse tranquilizer Ketamine through each individual wax vile stopper by syringe, enough that it would eventually add up to the dosage Taylor and Jesse needed but too little an amount to cause suspicion to the naked eye.
Then, she would place the cap on the syringe, lock the cabinet door, return the keys to his desk, and none would be the wiser. She repeated this process every single day during Thanksgiving break and by the end of the week, she had enough to heavily sedate a seventeen year old boy, about my size.
Jules and I arrived home from Mauch Chunk the following Saturday evening, rather late, and I dreaded having to go to church early the next morning but considered that Jules would be just as tired as I was and we could lean on one another, literally and figuratively. I was excited because we still had Monday and Tuesday off and the school week was only going to be three days before the weekend came upon us again. Basically, lots of time to take it easy. I had to admit, the football season was taking its toll on my body. I definitely didn’t get enough sleep either. Jules occupied my every thought.
I actually worried about what I was going to do when I reached Philadelphia and would be required to think. The only way I could get away with it then was because school was no challenge whatsoever. I thought that was a good point to bring up to Jules for the argument that we needed to marry as soon as possible. I reminded myself to remember that one later.
The next day, at church, Jules was already in the youth hall when I walked in to greet her. I noticed she was sitting on top of a table on her own and staring in the direction of the wall that was concealed by the door. I walked in and glanced to my left to see what she was staring at.
Jesse Thomas and Taylor Williams stared silently back at her. A silent fight of wills and I’m pretty sure Jules was winning. I didn’t say a word to either of them. I walked in, grabbed Jules’ hand and guided her outside. She had hung her jacket up earlier and didn’t have it so I gave her mine.
“What the....?” I asked.
“I have no idea.”
“They never come to church. Their parents are always making excuses for them.”
“I know why,” Jules said, panicked.
“Now, Jules, they might just be trying to mess with our heads and obviously it’s working. Look at you. Who knows, they could be coming for a better reason.”
Yeah, right.
“No Elliott, they’re here for devious reasons. If they were coming here for innocent reasons than they would have approached me, apologized, try to atone for what they had done. No. They’re here to intimidate us.”
“Okay, let’s just get to the church and sit with our parents.”
She nodded.
We walked back into the hallway and passed the doors to the youth hall quickly trying to avoid Taylor and Jesse but unfortunately forgot about the second entrance to the hall and once we passed it, they followed quickly.
“Where y’all going?” Asked Jesse.
I knew who the mastermind was. I knew who the evil one really was. Taylor was only mean and Marisa was only stupid. They were merely pawns in Jesse’s game, but Jesse, Jesse was the real tyrant. The one whom Jules was most afraid of.
“None of your business Jesse,” I said. “Leave us be.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, “I want to make amends.”
“Nope.”
“Please Elliott? I’m really sorry about everything that happened. I miss our friendship.”
He was a terrible liar. I stopped, took a deep breath and stared down at him.
“And what is the ‘everything’ that you’re sorry about Jesse?” I asked, falsely hoping he would own up to breaking into Jules’ room.
“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding,” he evaded.
“What misunderstanding?”
“Our fight in History.”
“Nope. That was no misunderstanding. What I want to know is if you’re sorry for the other things you’ve done.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play coy with me. You’re the one who decided to break into Jules’ home and mess with us. That’s what you should be sorry for. Do you have any idea how badly I wish to hurt you for doing that? You’re lucky we’re at church.”
“Am I? He goaded.
I came within inches of his face and clinched my teeth. I still held Jules’ shaking hand. He was lucky. Very.
“Get away from us Jesse, you and Taylor, and stay away from us.”
“I don’t understand Elliott! We’re just trying to make amends here!” His voice trailed off as we ran to the narthex.
We heard them laughing as they walked the other way. We sat in the children’s cry room and I grabbed Jules’ hand so the current could calm us both down and I could read her thoughts. It took several minutes but it worked, as always, and soon after, we joined our parents. We didn’t mention what had happened to anyone, though. After all, hindsight’s twenty twenty.<
br />
After church, both our families, like all the families in Bramwell did after church, went to Babe’s to eat. By then, Jules and I had almost forgotten about Jesse and Taylor and were having an extraordinary time with a bunch of kids from school. We all chatted about our vacations, what we did, who we saw, what we ate and we were asked a lot of questions about how Mauch Chunk was. All in all, it was a harmless conversation until Marisa Hartford, who had been hiding at the end of the shared table, chimed in with, what I thought at the time was, the most peculiar question.
“What were you two talking about with Jesse and Taylor outside the youth hall? It seemed to get pretty heated,” she asked.
Everyone at our table respected us enough not to mention their names. Recently, it seemed, the group had split into two, the Jesse half and the Elliott half. They knew how we felt about them, so it came as a surprise that she would be so bold as to ask us in front of our half no less.
That was my first real inkling that she might be in on, at the very least, what was going on in Taylor’s and Jesse’s private world.
“Why?” Jules asked suspiciously. “Is there something in particular you wanted to know about?”
“Nothing in particular,” Marisa lazily declared.
“Well, since you’re such fabulous friends with Taylor and you’re so curious, maybe you should ask her,” I said.
“Maybe I will,” Marisa said snidely and left the table tipping her chair back. It clanged to the floor. Cappelli picked up her chair for her and turned to us.
“What was that all about?” He asked.
“I’m not exactly sure,” I said, “but I think I’m going to find out.”
That night Jules and I sat at our rock bridge and braved the chill night air. She packed a basket, like she usually did, of hot chocolate or coffee, and homemade warm cookies. We curled up underneath our blanket, drank and talked.
“Hey,” I remembered, “I wanted to ask you something.”
“No, I will not marry you after graduation.”
“But you haven’t even heard my reasoning yet!”
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Okay, well, you know when we go off to Philadelphia that I’m going to have to put my full attention on studying right?”
“Right. So?”
“Well, I mean, technically that’s not really an issue now. I mean, high school is so breezy, for both of us.”
“Don’t lump me in with you. I actually have to work for my grades,” she laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, right now, you pretty much occupy ninety-nine percent of my thoughts and the other one percent is occupied with me trying to convince myself that I need to stop thinking about you constantly.”
“Well, that’s just a hormone thing babe. It’ll wear with time.”
“I don't think so Jules.”
“You don’t?”
“No, in fact, I know so and I came up with the theory that my thirst for you could possibly be tamed if, perhaps, we were married. At least then, I could come home to you and when we said goodnight it wouldn’t mean a long walk home or a short drive.”
“That’s an incredibly convincing argument,”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“But....,” she said.
“But, nothing. I’ve settled it. We’ll marry in the summer.” I sighed, “Feels good to get that off my chest. More coffee?”
I reached for the thermos.
“Elliott,” she said.
She placed her hand on mine and I dropped my mug. I let it slide a few feet in front of me but didn’t bother to retrieve it. I turned my gaze on hers.
“We should wait, “I said, guessing her next sentence.
“Really, we should Elliott. We just can’t risk it. We can wait and I promise it will be the best thing we’ve ever done.”
I sighed in defeat.
“I won’t give up,” I muttered under my breath as I reached for my dropped mug.
School crept up on us too quickly and Thursday came even more so.
“Today’s the day,” Jules said.
“Today’s the day,” I repeated.
I wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation. It could only go one of two ways and frankly neither felt that appetizing to me. Either Jesse and Taylor would ignore us completely and go on planning what they had been planning, or Jesse would snap and start to fight me right then and there. I knew that the confrontation would get either one of those ‘not ideal’ results but I wasn’t going to let him feel like I was passively going to endure his or Taylor’s insanity.
At lunch, we ate quickly and waited.
“What was Marisa’s deal on Sunday?” Jules asked, suddenly aware of her again.
“I’m pretty sure she knows whatever Jesse and Taylor are planning. It’s frustrating because she’s so easily influenced. If I could just get to her and explain to her what she needed to do instead of following that harpy around then I know I could change her mind.”
“Yeah, she’s not intrinsically bad. She just cannot think for herself. She’s ruled too easily by her obsession with being popular,” Jules reasoned.
“If I could just get to her.......but Taylor’s got a short leash on her.”
“Yeah, and a choke collar to match,” Jules said.
I winked at her.
“That was a little gangster of you Jules, my witty, clever little gangster. You should have added ‘see’ to the end of that sentence. You would’ve been golden,” I teased.
“Shut up,” she laughed. “It’s early.”
I spotted them, “Here comes Bonnie and Clyde.”
I nodded toward the double doors.
“More like Fred and Wilma,” she said.
“What was that?”
“Forgive me. ‘Airplane’ was on last night.”
“Surely, you must be joking,” I chortled.
“I’m not joking and stop calling me Shirley,” she laughed.
“Uh oh,” I said.
“I’m stopping.”
I waved my hand for Jesse and Taylor to come to our table. They stopped, whispered something to each other and decided to join us. Jules was as cool as a cucumber, probably because I had my hand at the back of her chair and I was cupping the nape of her neck. We lounged in our chairs as if we didn’t have a care in the world. Jules yawned. I promised myself that I’d let her know that it was a nice touch. Taylor and Jesse sat opposite us at the round table we occupied by ourselves.
“Jesse, don’t get comfortable. You won’t be staying long,” I said. He didn’t respond. “I’ve called you over here to let you know that we aren’t going to take what you’ve done lying down. I’m being cordial now because you’ve yet to do anything else. I’ve decided to look past your breaking into Jules’ room, although,” I leaned forward, slit my eyes and almost whispered, “you don’t deserve it.” I casually sat back once more, “I promise you this, next time you even breathe in our direction and it rubs me the wrong way, I won’t be as kind. Jules?” I asked, turning her direction.
She apathetically shook her head that she had nothing to add and turned her gaze back toward the windows. They took the hint, got up and sat at their own table. By this time, I noticed the deathly quiet that had presided over the lunch room.
“Time to go,” I whispered in Jules’ ear.
We both grabbed our bags and lazily tred toward the double doors. When they closed behind us Jules looked up at me as if to ask what I thought.
“I don’t think they’ll be an issue anymore,” I said.
“I really hope you’re right love,” was all she could reply.
A week had passed and there was no sign of Taylor or Jesse except their literal presence and we barely took notice of that. They didn’t talk to us, look at us, or, like I had warned, breathed in our direction.
“See Jules,” I said with confidence after school scraping the ice from my windshield, “nothing to worry about sweetheart.”
“I’ve almost forgotten
about them. That’s a good sign. I don’t easily forget. You know that from experience,” she winked.
“I have something I could say, but I won’t,” I jested.
“Oh yeah? Well I have something in response to that so go right ahead,” she joked back, knowing my exact thoughts.
“Okay, consider it said.”
“I have,” and bounded from the car at lightning speed. She tackled me to the ground and we fell into the snow. I swung her around by her waist and pinned her to the white blanket underneath her. I kept my left hand at her waist and held her hip bone between my thumb and index finger.
It was cold, extremely, so I removed the glove from the other hand with my teeth and placed it on her warm neck. The torridity boiled in our veins and we were both comfortable again.
“I’ll never get used to that,” I said.
“Neither will I and I don’t want to for that matter.”
“I forgot what we were doing,” I said, genuinely confused as to why we were on the ground.
“Me too, this is nice nevertheless. I’ll take it.”
“I’m curious to know how long we could stay this way. I mean, does the charge actually keep us warm? Or is it an illusion?”
“Oh Elliott, you think like a scientist. I understand, it comes so naturally to you, but honestly? There is no way this, we, are an illusion,” she smiled, placing her hands over my heart on the word ‘we’.
“Good answer! Five points. That earned five points.”
“Five points? Come on, at least ten.”
“Okay, ten.”
She winked.
“What topic are you choosing for your paper due next week?” I asked, pretending I wasn’t dying inside that her hands were touching my chest.
“Hmm, I thought about it and since it’s an open topic, I chose to write on the history of the word fate and its definitions.”