by Tina Mikals
Chapter 38
A Tall Glass of Fresh Water
May felt tapping on the backs of both of her hands. Someone stroked hair off her forehead and patted her face softly. She felt hot, cookie-scented puffs of breath on her cheek.
From light years away, a woman's voice she didn't recognize said, "Shane O'Callahan, back off and give the girl some air."
She heard Duncan say, "Come on, Rugrat, you heard Mom."
"Let me go. Ma, tell him to let me go," yelled Shane.
"Then back off. You're sucking up all her air," said Duncan.
"But she smells nice."
"I know she does but get out of her face, will you? She can't even breathe."
"Duncan?" said his mother, embarrassed.
"Yeah?"
"Never mind. Thank you, dear," sighed Duncan's mother. "What do you suppose could have happened? Has she been sick?"
"I don't know," replied Bonnie. "Maybe she got overheated and went out in the cold too quick. Did she just come from one of those fencing classes, Sheila?"
"Yes," said Sheila then explained to Aunt Shannon, "May started fencing class a couple of weeks ago."
"Funcing?" said Shane. "What's that?"
"It's fencing, Rugrat. Sword fighting," said Duncan.
"Sword fighting? Cool!"
"Shh, everyone. It looks like she's coming to now," said Bonnie.
May had a headache. She opened her eyes and sat up. She was on the area rug in the living room, with Bonnie on one side of her and Sheila's aunt on the other. The older women stopped patting May's hands and lifted her to her feet where she bobbled unsteadily.
Wordlessly, the women sat her down on the couch. They stood in front of the coffee table with their hands clasped in front of them, assessing her with motherly looks of concern on their faces.
"I'm fine, really," May said, looking around her and trying to get up. Duncan wasn't anywhere to be seen. She heard the sound of running water in the kitchen.
"Just hang on a few minutes, hon," said Bonnie, pushing her down on the sofa again. "You're not going anywhere. You need to rest a bit."
"That was so cool!" shouted Shane.
"You had us worried," said Sheila, sitting down next to her on the armrest of the sofa.
Loudly, Aunt Shannon said, "Duncan, dear, could you get the poor girl a glass of—"
Having just returned from the kitchen, Duncan showed his mother the glass of water in his hand, presenting it like a magician materializing it out of thin air. "Ta-dah," he said.
His mother smiled up at him. Turning to Bonnie, she said, "He's always such a thoughtful boy."
Duncan blushed crimson to the roots of his wavy dark brown hair.
Sheila's aunt looked back at her eldest son. Seeing the color of his face, she gave him a quick smile and said, "Sorry dear."
"That was so cool!" shouted Shane again, climbing up on the sofa next to May and jumping up and down on the cushions so that the couch bounced nauseatingly under her.
"No, no, Shaney," scolded his mother, waggling a finger at him.
Aunt Bonnie looked ready to strangle him.
Swallowing queasily, May turned to the boy and searched his still bouncing face, "Exactly how cool did it look?"
"You went over like a ton of bricks." Shane smashed his hands together with a loud smack. "Bam! Your legs went way up in the air. It was awesome!"
"Great," she whispered.
"Off, already," cried Duncan to his brother. "You want to crack your head open on the coffee table or do you want me to crack it for you? Besides, just look at her. You're going to make her puke."
Shane finished bouncing with one final jump onto his bottom and got down.
"Actually, it really was cool," said Duncan, fingering and turning the glass in his hands. "I never seen a girl pass out before. Especially not like that!" Grinning widely, Duncan just stared at her.
"Don't forget to give her the water, dear," said his mother.
"Oh, right, for sure," said Duncan. He put one hand on the pile of glossy magazines on the low coffee table, and with the other, held out the water glass. As she went to take it from him, the magazines shifted under his weight and he came flying straight at her.
May braced herself for the impact, but he caught himself with his elbows on the coffee table before landing in her lap. A wave of water sloshed over the rim of the glass in his hand and all down the front of May's new fencing uniform.
She sucked in a sharp breath at the unexpected coolness and gazed down at herself. "Well, that was refreshing!"
"I'm ... so ... sorry," said Duncan, wincing at her soaked uniform. He got up off his elbows and set the practically empty glass down on the coffee table in front of her.
"That's okay," she said, looking up at him quickly. "It's just a little water. It'll dry."
"Dunc, there's not much left," said his mother. "Maybe you should get the girl some more."
"No, don't bother!" May grabbed the glass off the coffee table before he could take it. There were fingerprints all around the rim. "Honest, this is perfect. Besides, I don't actually like water anyway," she said before taking a sip.
"Really?" said Duncan. "I'm afraid of heights, myself."
Choking on the water, May coughed out, "You are?"
Surprised at her response, he said quietly, "No, not really. It was just a joke." He made a drumming motion with his hands in the air and said weakly, "Ba-dump-ching."
"That's a stupid joke. I don't get it," said Shane.
Neither did May, but she smiled anyway. "Well, I do."
The doorbell rang. Sheila jumped off the arm of the sofa and called out, "That must be Charley."
"That'd be my ride," said May, standing up. She put the empty glass on the coffee table and reached for her sports bag on the floor. Before she could grab hold of it, Sheila pushed her towards the stairs to the second floor, saying, "Could someone let Charley in? May needs to change in my room before we go to the museum."
"But I need my bag," protested May.
"Yuck! I mean—there's no time for that. I'm sure I have something you can wear."
Duncan jingled a pile of loose change in his pocket as he watched May being prodded up the stairs by his cousin.
Bonnie let her nephew alone for a moment and then said, "Duncan, dear, would you mind letting Charley in?"
"For sure," he said, spinning around too fast, banging his shin on the coffee table. Holding his knee with one hand, he slouched out of the room with Shane right behind him.
Duncan's mother said, "Did you see that? I've never seen him like that. Who is this girl anyway? Some friend of Sheila's?"
Bonnie, who never believed in sparing young people from the hazardous winding path of love whenever the marvelous opportunity presented itself, said to her sister-in-law, "May's a dear girl from a good family—very respectable and responsible."
"Bonnie, you know what happened last time. I don't want him to go through that again."
"You can't protect him forever, Shannon. He's sixteen. Do you want him to become a priest?"
"But you know how he is. He can't seem to do anything half way."
"And May is as cool as an Atlantic salmon. It won't take them too long to figure out they have absolutely nothing in common. You have nothing to worry about."
"An Atlantic salmon?"
Bonnie held up two fingers in a girl scouts salute. "On my honor. Ice water. She's even more uptight than her mother, which is saying something. You've got to let my favorite nephew have some fun." Bonnie looked into her sister-in-law's hazel eyes and said, "This move has been hard on him. He's got to make all new friends." Bonnie moved her arm around Shannon's shoulder and steered her towards the kitchen where chocolate chip cookies and strawberry daiquiris awaited for the afternoon. "Besides, lighten up, they're just going to a museum."
"Maybe you're right," said Shannon.
"Of course I'm right," said Bonnie. "Think about it. What could possible happen to them at an art museum?"
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