|
Writer
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 25
|
Craving a cruel critique--end of first Chapter.
The shopping was quick; I had my bottles of Coca-Cola and a small cake, along with plastic forks: lovely junk food. When I met Brian at the pond, the day was fully immersed in sunset. He was laying on top his car when I pulled up.
“Come here,” he laughed, gesturing for me to join him on the hood.
It all seemed very normal, then. We didn’t need to be anywhere or see anyone; we could just lay there, kissing, surrounded by crappy food. The snow had stopped falling, too, so all we needed to keep warm was each other, coats, mittens, a running engine… But it was still nice.
An hour or two passed and sun gave way to moon. Some psychedelic, sixties music was playing on the radio and emitted through open windows. Brian sang along quietly, combing his fingers through my hair.
I was being lulled off into sleep until he jumped into sitting position, pulling me along, too, as I’d practically been lying on top of him.
“What?” I asked, suddenly awake.
“I want to go for walk,” he said slowly. “You know, I’ve never been down there, behind the pond.” He nodded towards the area where, just beyond the icy water, the earth dropped down into a ravine. All you could see were the tops of antique pines and sleeping aspens.
I frowned. “Everyone who’s anyone has been down there. Let’s go.” I popped up and grabbed his hand. “It’s spooky down there… I’ve never gone at night.”
“Spooky, huh?” he grinned.
“It’s full of road kill,” I laughed. “The highway’s on the other side of it.”
“Oh,” his pace slowed and I trudged forward.
“Come on,” I dragged him along, “We won’t see Halloween for another eleven months… I need this.”
He finally came to walk beside me, “Quickly then.”
“No dillydallying,” I nodded and smiled up at his stony face. He was ever my protector. It took no time at all before we were maneuvering our way down a steep, broken path. We nearly turned back when Brian tripped over the leg and shoulder blade of a deer.
“What the… How did it get up here?” He quickly kicked it into a cold shrub.
“Dogs,” I speculated, “Or druggy kids. They both hang out here.” He gawked at me and turned around until I told him we were almost there—that I thought it was kind of creepy: exhilarating.
“Colorado is not supposed to have places like this—it’s horrifying,” he whimpered, looking at me with pleading eyes.
I jumped to a natural landing three feet below the trail. There was no snow there; the trees kept any ice from reaching the ground. “It’s unusual and exciting—a taste of reality when everything else is society’s falsehood.” I sighed contentedly. “We should come here more often.”
“Drama queen,” he accused and leaped beside me, “Now where? We’re at the bottom.”
“Just through there,” I pointed to a gathering of trees. “Then you’ll see the highway and not be so afraid when I get you to come back.” My stride was comfortable, confident; it was a surprise when I tripped over a large, hard object and fell to my face. “Hey!” I shrieked and Brian rushed over, copying my movements and finally laying beside me in the mud and dead grass.
“Owe,” he muttered, flipping onto his back and massaging the wrist he’d broken his fall with.
Laughing anxiously, I spoke with remorse, “I’m sorry…” I took his wrist from him and touched it tenderly. “Not broken…” I sighed. “I think, though, it might be sprained? You think it’s swelling?”
“It’s fine,” he breathed, leaning over to give me a small kiss.
I blushed, strangely self-conscious, and gave another apology.
He shook his head and put an arm around my shoulders. “So, what the hell was it we tripped over?”
I bent forward and stuck my hand out gingery. It was so dark; I couldn’t quite see the details.
“It’s a box,” I whispered, “A big box…a crate.”
Brian, more readily, found some hinges, reached over and threw back a lid that ran from one end to the other. “That could hold a body,” he joked and elbowed me gently.
I grinned. “All it’s got is a layer of dirt. I thought it’d be more exciting.”
He stopped moving and twisted his entire body to look at me. “I’m surprised at you,” he hissed with mock horror, “Your favorite book?”
“I was trying not to go there,” I nodded, feeling awkward and stupid. This whole thing was stupid.
He must have seen my creased eyebrows and restless hands—or at least felt a change in our atmosphere—because he leaned over and hugged me, “I want you to say whatever’s on your mind.”
I pulled away just enough so I could look him in the eyes, “Then we absolutely would not make it through our first year together.”
His arms tightened around me and his joking ceased. “Do you really have so little confidence in me?”
My mouth gaped open in sudden alarm. “No!” I shook my head quickly, “I was kidding. You know I’m not funny.”
It was bewildering, how fast a scene can change.
He sighed and stood up, lifting me with him. “I love you, though.”
“I love you, too,” I replied uneasily, mentally kicking myself.
“Excuse me?” A foreign voice split into our intimate bubble.
I gasped while my husband pushed me behind him. “Who’s there?” he demanded into the darkness. I was shuddering as I peered around my husband’s ribcage and tried to see into the gloom.
We heard footsteps approaching and the stranger said, “Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten. I saw you both fall; I was wondering if you two were… alright.”
Anxiety melted away and I clambered past Brian, over the box, and into the area from where the voice had come. “I can’t see you,” I told him. It was a man’s voice I was responding to.
I felt fingers just barely touch my shoulder, “Behind you.”
Inhaling quickly, red again washing my cheeks, I turned around. “Sorry. We’re both fine… Is this your box?” I crossed my arms and Brian met me, his hand reaching around to encircle my waist protectively.
“No,” the voice answered, humored. “I was actually looking for its owner, but searching an entire mountain for one person is no easy task.”
I wondered what was wrong with me, why I was saying all the wrong things and lacking all manners. “I’m sorry,” my voice softened. “It’s kind of a bad place to be surprised.” I stuck out a hand and the stranger took it. His was icy and even through my knit, fingerless gloves, their cold penetrated. I smiled warmly, “My name is Kelly, and this is my husband, Brian.” The stranger dropped my hand.
“You both are married? You’re so young.”
I ignored Brian’s harrumphed clearing of the throat and asked, “We’re young? You certainly sound like no old man. You have a nice voice; I’m sure you could become a singer.”
He laughed quietly. I enjoyed the sound. “I’m old enough to have decided which profession I’ll take.”
I nodded. “Are you visiting someone here?” His accent didn’t match a Coloradan’s. He pronounced the T’s at the end of syllables.
“I moved here about a month ago from Bucharest.”
Delighted, intrigued, and wishing so much that I could see his face, I questioned, “Bucharest? That’s incredible. Why come here?”
“I have friends in America, I had the resources to move here, and I was interested by the culture,” he answered frostily.
I again backtracked, “I didn’t mean to be rude… You don’t need to give me an answer; I’m always wishing we could get out of here, is all.” I frowned and finally looked away from where I thought his eyes might be. “Maybe we should be going, Brian. I’m just sticking my foot in my mouth.”
“Not at all,” the mystery man said soothingly, “I’m unsure of my decision at this point. I think I’ll be returning to Europe shortly and I regret buying a house in this current economy. I was rude, dear, not you.”
Brian finally spoke, “She’s right in that we should be leaving, though. It was pleasant, and have a good night.” He let me go and began to walk away.
I sighed, knowing he was mad.
“You didn’t tell me your name.” My wide pupils glanced up to remaining blindness; and a small, grimacing smirk worked its way onto my lips.
“Drake.”
I dropped the attempt to make out any image and flashed a peace sign as a goodbye, but he took my hand and I felt cold lips press against its back.
“Good night, Kelly,” his voice surely held a private chord.
A more inviting expression blossomed on my face.
“Good night.”
And then I was sprinting up after my livid hubby.
“Meet me at home.” Brian scooped our things off his hood and threw them onto the passenger seat. He himself got in, buckled up, and drove off.
I rolled my eyes. He was being moody. I picked up a stone near my foot and hurled it at the frozen pond. It landed with a dull thud and left little more than a scratch. This night was not on my side, it seemed. And, of course, home was not far, so it was no long time before I was engulfed in Brian’s bitchiness: annoying, but my entire fault.
“You were flirting with him.” He leaned against the kitchen counter, flipping through a newspaper. “A weird guy finds us in the woods like that, and you’re flirting with him.”
I put down my coat, stepped around him, and poured myself a cold cup of coffee. We weren’t sleeping until we finished this.
“I was not flirting with him. I felt unthreatened and I was being nice to him.” I again went past him to our saggy blue couch. I sat down and crossed my legs.
“Right,” he looked up, “The accented guy from Bucharest, you weren’t flirting with him? Because last time I checked, you love that crap.”
“What crap?” I sipped at my drink.
“Look at the damn bookshelf!” He looked up with a sudden fire and threw his hand towards my collection.
I set the mug on the coffee table. “What’s bothering you? You know I’m monogamy’s number one supporter.”
“You weren’t even taken aback by him, Kelly.” He turned around to stare at the stainless steal fridge. “You greeted him with open arms…” His shoulders sagged. “I felt like he was… mocking me.”
“What was there to be…? You mean you got bad vibes?” Brian was the rational one, so this was bizarre. I starred pensively at the back of his head and since he didn’t move, I laid down and closed my eyes. Maybe he wouldn’t notice me leaving the conversation.
He crossed the floor, picked up my drink and went back to dump it down the sink; he put the cup into the dishwasher. He returned to climb over and lay next to me.
“Brian,” I mumbled. “Please, what’s with you?”
He kissed my shoulder. He kissed my neck. He buried his face in my hair and I knew how he was feeling. His emotions were covering him. He was nervous and angry; it was like sweat in his pores.
“It’s like I’ve seen him before,” he began. “In another setting, in another place, I’ve seen him and I know that he’s capable of hurting you and me.”
“We couldn’t even see him-”
“And still he could see us, clear as day.”
I snuggled against him and he hugged me closer. “You’re being crazy. Everything smells like moths and dust.”
“Like we’re living in the past—in a story,” he concurred.
“Go to sleep, Brian. You need it.”
At least he wasn’t angry with me.
“Goodnight,” he sighed.
I gave a curt nod and promptly passed out.
|
