by Jessi Kirby
“Welcome,” she said. Nobody said anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few heads nod. “Well”—she straightened up—“I’m sure you’ve spent the day listening to everyone’s class rules and plans, and that you probably didn’t really listen to any of it. It’s your first day back, I know. Mine too. I’m Ms. Lewis.” Joy Lewis, I thought. Who knew my mother, and too much about me to be my teacher. Perfect.
She spoke in a calm but firm voice. “My rules are simple. I expect you to act like responsible people.” She paused, and I looked out the window, which framed blue sky and the barely discernable horizon of the ocean. “And I expect you to think.”
I glanced up. She was at the front of the classroom, scanning our faces for some flicker of something. I watched her eyes look up and down the rows, until they stopped at me, and this time I didn’t look away. There was a visible shift in her expression and a noticeable beat before she spoke again, like she had lost the thread of her speech. She smiled vaguely and nodded before continuing.
“Since this is World Literature, we’ll be starting at the beginning, with a favorite topic of mine. Mythology.” Of course. I looked down at my desk, but I could feel her eyes still on me. “Now, I don’t mean your standard Greek mythology. You guys did that in seventh grade. This quarter we’re gonna take a look at some lesser-known myths. Some that have found their way into our movies and books and music without us even realizing what they are.” She looked around, and we sat in silence. I focused hard on the letters carved into the corner of the desk. Thick layers of blue and black ink spelled out a four-letter word that echoed my general sentiment at the moment.
She chuckled softly. “You guys are a tough audience, this first day of school, last class of the day. I get it. I’d rather be out there too, to tell you the truth.” She motioned to the window and finally won a few murmurs of agreement. “How about this. Anyone have an idea about why we have myths in the first place?”
After a long moment a brunette in the front row raised her hand and spoke tentatively. “Um, to explain things people didn’t understand?”
Joy (Ms. Lewis) clapped her hands, and I glanced up. “Yes, honey! Thank you! To explain the things we don’t understand. Because it’s in us to want to answer things, right? The things that nag at us and keep us up at night, wondering. It’s human nature to want answers.” I swore her eyes flicked to me for a second before she went on. “So that’s where we’ll start. With questions that need to be answered. Tomorrow. I’m gonna give you the rest of the period today to flip through your books, read the intro, and come up with a question you think people, as in humans, need answered. A big question. And I’ll be willing to bet there’s a myth that takes a crack at it.”
Nobody moved.
“Go on now. Get your books and paper out and your brains going. It’s time to start thinking.”
Backpacks unzipped and papers rustled around me. I just sat there. It had felt like she was talking just to me the whole time, like she knew what I was thinking, and it had me almost frozen. There were things I’d thought I wanted answered for a long time, but I wasn’t sure of them anymore. It seemed like the answers could be worse than the wondering. It was why I tiptoed around the topic of my mom just as much as my dad did. I’d yet to find out why he hadn’t told me about her living at the cove, or when they left, or what their story was, but the unknown was frightening. Maybe it was something too hard for him to tell, that would put us back in the painful place we were in for so long after she was gone. Maybe it wasn’t worth it to know. Maybe she could just stay a question, like the crawling man, a kind of myth of her own. My mother.
I pulled out my English notebook and opened it to the first page, which was still clean and blank. My pencil hovered over the center of the page. Around me, most people sat the same way, either flipping pages in the book or staring at blank notebook pages, unsure of how to proceed. For a teacher she’d left things pretty wide open. The seconds ticking away on the clock were now audible. Joy (I still couldn’t think of her differently) walked softly to the first desk in my aisle, paused to look at the boy’s notebook, then made her way down the row. When she got to my desk, she put a hand on my shoulder, but I stiffened and she took it away.
“No questions yet, huh?” I shook my head. “Well, give yourself some time. I’m sure you’ll come up with a few.” She took a step to leave, but then paused. “Why don’t you stay after class a minute. I’ve got something for you.”
For the rest of the period I yearned for and dreaded the bell. When it finally rang, I took in a deep breath and slowly packed up my stuff. The room cleared out, and I was left standing uncomfortably, backpack slung over one shoulder, ready to make a quick exit if need be.
Once everyone was gone, she walked over to a packed shelf behind her desk and pulled a worn book out, flipping through it with a faint smile. “You may like this one. Your mother sure did. Said it inspired some of her paintings.”
Paintings?
The question must have shown on my face.
“She was a brilliant artist, even at a young age. I think it was the way she tried to work things out for herself. We’ve all got something we do, and hers was painting.” She nodded to herself. “I’m guessing your dad didn’t save any of her work, then.”
I had no memory of her painting. Ever. Never heard my dad mention it either. I stared down at the book she held out to me. Adorning the cover, in curling ornate lettering, was the title Mermaids: Daughters of the Sea.
I didn’t say anything. She pushed it gently into my hands. “Take it. It’s a place to start.”
“Thanks,” I managed, pushing it to the crook of my arm.
“Anna,” she said softly, “answers to most of our questions do exist. You just have to ask them.”
“Yeah,” I said curtly. “I need to go. Um … thank you for this.” I walked past her and out the door, sure of two things: One, I needed to change my English class, and two, I could run for miles today and not feel a thing.
“Long. Slow. Distance…. Also known as LSD in running. It’s what you’ll be doing today.” Coach Martin stood in the center of a ring of stretching runners. He put his clipboard behind his back and walked the ring our feet made as we reached for our toes. “Today’s run is about enduring. It’s about getting your mind to a place where it can rest and let your body take over. Don’t look at your watch, don’t guess the mileage, and don’t think. Just run. Settle into a pace that you can hold as long as I ask you to.” I didn’t flinch. All the better. Bent in a stretch, I exhaled into my knees and welcomed the time to not think about anything but running.
“We’re going to head back into the canyon. I’ll be in front of you on my bike with water if you need it.”
I leaned forward again and looked out of the corner of my eye for Jillian. She was already up on her feet, kicking out her legs. I stood up casually and stretched my arms above my head. Coach Martin glanced at each of us. “And one last thing. No racing. Let it go for today or you won’t last the run. Now, let’s go.”
Our shoes crunched over the dirt track, first in a walk and then accelerating into a slow jog. I was conscious of Jillian a foot or so behind me, but didn’t alter my pace. When she caught up and I could see her in my peripheral vision, I quelled the urge to pick it up. She looked over at me and nodded, and I nodded back. We squeezed through the gate that separated the track from the land behind the campus, and headed down a dirt road that twisted far back into the green canyon. The air was hot and dry until we rounded the first curve into it. Under the shade of towering eucalyptus trees, I began to relax into the pace and let fall away all of the things that weighed me down. I pictured the trail of them behind me—the cottage my mother had lived in; the unsettled feeling my dream had left me with; the fact that everywhere I went, someone knew something about my past that I didn’t—
“Slow down.” Her words jolted me from my thoughts. “You don’t always have to run like you’re racing. Relax.”
> I checked my pace. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Well, it’s gonna get even longer. He wasn’t joking about this being a distance day. So relax. Breathe.” She smiled over at me. “Tell me about you and Tyler Evans.”
I tried not to react, but felt a tiny wave of nervousness zing through me. “Nothing to tell, really.”
She gave me a look as our shoes crunched together in rhythm. “Come on … spill it. We need something to talk about to take up this run.”
I glanced around, cheeks burning. At our pace we’d left the rest of the girls trailing some distance behind. Her tone was easy and comfortable, so I figured it was safe. “All right. There’s nothing interesting to tell. We were both at this lifeguard bonfire, and we swam out to jump this rock, and I gave him every opening I possibly could have to make a move, but he didn’t. And I wasn’t naked. Or drunk.” I paused and glanced over at Jillian, who was smiling knowingly. “Too bad the truth doesn’t live up to the rumors, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “It never does. I figured it was something like that. Don’t worry about it. People just like to talk. They’ll forget by Friday.” We took a few more strides before she spoke again. “And don’t count Tyler out either. For all his cockiness, he’s actually kind of a gentleman, so I’m not surprised he didn’t do anything. It’s probably a good sign, actually. If you’re into him.”
Oh, God. “Did you guys … I’m sorry. I had no idea—”
She laughed out loud. “Me? Oh, God, no. I didn’t date Tyler. No offense, but he’s not really my type.” We’d picked up the pace the slightest bit. “No, my sister went out with him a few times, and she said the same thing about him. That he passed up a few good moments before he actually kissed her.”
The previous moment’s awkwardness paled in comparison to this. What was I supposed to say? That I knew about her sister? Ask about her? Say I was sorry? That I’d banish Tyler from my thoughts? I was so used to being on the other side of this conversation, I had no idea. “Oh, I …”
“You don’t have to feel weird about it, though. She’s been gone for a couple of years—a bad car accident. Everyone else here knows, so you may as well hear it from me. Anyway, you should go for it. He’s a good guy.”
She’d done perfectly what I’d never been able to do. Slipped it in casually, like she was long over it, and got on with the conversation. She hadn’t even left me room to say “I’m sorry” before moving on to Tyler. But I couldn’t not acknowledge it.
“Wow. I’m so sorry. About your sister, I mean.” I fumbled, but she rescued me.
“It is what it is. Sometimes life throws shitty surprises at you and there’s nothing you can do about it, you know?”
I nodded and inhaled deeply. It would have been a good moment to say “Yeah, I know what you mean” or something that let her know I’d been there too. That I was back there, in a way. But I didn’t. Instead I cleared my mind of everything except the rhythm of our feet in the dirt, my breaths, and the quiet understanding I felt growing between us as we matched strides.
Friday came more quickly than I’d expected. I’d spent the week waking up looking forward to first period, where Tyler and I snuck friendly banter back and forth when Mr. Strickland wasn’t looking. My lunches were spent listening to Ashley and the two girls she’d befriended in dance class chatter about everyone in school, from who they were dating to who they were wearing. I got myself transferred to a different English class so I wouldn’t have to face Joy again. And Jillian and I had just taken first and second in the opening meet, helping earn a win for our team. And now it was Friday.
We walked out to the parking lot, still in our uniforms, and she stopped when we got to her car. “Wanna go to the party at Celine’s tonight? It’s tradition after the first race …” She threw her bag into the trunk. I was about to take her up on the offer, but we both turned at the voice that came from across the lot.
“Hey! Louanna!”
Jillian raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you have other plans?”
I tried to tone down the immediate giddiness that spread out from my stomach. “No. Not yet…. Maybe?” I could always hope.
“Let’s leave it open, then.” She got into her car. “Call me if you decide you want to come, and I’ll pick you up.” Before I had a chance to answer, she winked, shut the door, and was backing out.
Tyler jogged up behind me. “Hey, I was trying to call you.” I could hear the grin in his voice and I paused before turning, mostly to compose myself.
“Funny. I could have sworn you heard me tell Mr. Strickland that I go by ‘Anna.’”
“I heard you and Jillian killed it in your race today. Anna. Nicely done.” He smiled his golden-boy smile at me, and that, in combination with his hair all wet and sticking up in every direction, was enough to make me—well, I didn’t even know.
He smelled like chlorine, but I liked it on him. “Did you guys have a game today?” I grinned inwardly at a brief flash in my mind of him in a Speedo and the funny little water polo cap.
“No. First one’s next week.”
“Oh.” For lack of a better response, I took a step toward my car.
Tyler went with me. “So, I didn’t ever get to ask you—how was your dad about the whole party thing? I figure I don’t have a job next summer, after that.”
I kicked a rock across a few empty parking spaces. “He was pretty pissed, but I think he’ll let it go. He’s done a few things that he owes me an apology for, so I’m gonna say we’re even.”
“What, like naming you Louanna?”
I gave him a look. “That was my mom’s fault, actually. It was after her grandmother or something like that.”
“If it makes you feel any better, my real first name is Frank. Tyler is my middle name. But same thing. I’m named after the grandpa I never met.”
I stopped at the back of my bus. “This is me.”
“Yeah?” He eyed the surf racks on top of the bus.
“Yep.” I opened the back window and threw my backpack in, then turned back to him and tried to think of something else to say.
“The classic surf mobile.” He smiled wide. “It suits you.”
I smiled back. I had always loved the bus. “Yeah, we’ve been a lot of places in that thing. I’m not sure that it fits in here, though.” I looked across the half-empty parking lot that held a mix of BMWs, Mercedes, and Range Rovers.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Cars like that are a waste. They’ve never been down a dirt road in Mexico that ended at the perfect surf spot.” He patted the back window. “This one, though … I bet it’s seen some pretty cool places.”
We were quiet a moment, and I looked at the ground. “I should get going,” I managed, sounding as awkward as I felt. I didn’t mention the party. Just in case he was about to invite me somewhere. I pinched my running jersey between my two fingers. “Gotta get out of this thing.” Lovely. Remind him how gross and stinky you are right at this moment.
Tyler didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, I should get going too. My dad has some big business meeting late, and I promised my mom I’d go to dinner with her …” He trailed off, and we both stood, unmoving. I was about to break the long moment of silence, but I saw something flicker over his face and waited. “Hey. Just so you know, those cottages you were asking about—all the broken-down ones? Most of them aren’t locked up. You wouldn’t need your dad’s keys to go look in them. You just have to find an open lock. I went through them all last summer. Kind of another rookie initiation.”
I raised an eyebrow and gave him my best mischievous smile. “Oh, yeah? Well, I’ll keep that in mind—although … I’d be too creeped out to go in them alone, and my dad is working nights now, so he couldn’t take me. But, yeah, one of these days I’ll have to check them out.” I couldn’t have left him a bigger opening. I waited. Hoped. Opened the driver’s side door and started to climb in.
He took a step closer and leaned a tanned arm on the open door. “Hey�
�”
I caught my breath and got ready to accept his offer to give me a full tour of the cottages.
“You should ask James. He knows all about the history of them and all that stuff—if that’s what you’re really interested in.” He was looking straight at me with his ridiculous silver-blue eyes and the hint of a smile.
I put the key into the ignition, turned it hard, and did my best at nonchalance, despite the heat that crept up my neck. “Yeah, that’s right. James.” I looked at my watch. “Maybe we’ll check them out tonight. He’ll probably just be getting off duty when I get home, if I go soon.” I put my sunglasses on. He stepped backward, then shut the door softly for me. His hands rested on the open window frame, inches away from my shoulder.
I shrugged. “If not, maybe I will just bring a flashlight and go myself.”
He laughed a little, then looked down at his feet.
“What?” I asked, a bit more indignant-sounding than I would have liked.
He grinned at me and put his hands up. “Nothing, nothing…. I could show them to you one of these days too, if that’s what you’re interested in.”
I paused, trying to determine if this offer was out of sincerity, interest, amusement …
“Yeah? If you ever want to come down, you know where I live.” I smiled and put the bus in reverse. “Otherwise, I’ll see ya around,” I said brightly, hoping that it sounded casual, but mortified he had read me that easily.
He pushed off the door and waved as he took a step back. “Bye, Anna.”
I nodded when I drove by, and he did the same. In the rearview mirror, I watched as he kicked a rock, sending it bouncing across the asphalt. Then he shook his head and laughed, and I was sure the humorous thing was me. Ugh.
It was close to five by the time I parked the bus in front of our cottage. I shut the motor off and looked out through the windshield for a moment, straight at my mom’s cottage. I didn’t even know she’d lived in it. Had she grown up there? Spent summers? How many nights had she stood on the tiny balcony and breathed the ocean air?
