Wisdom Tree

by Mary Manners

  “Well, we were getting ready to go to the town square for the Fourth-of-July parade and fireworks show, and I thought I’d gussy myself up a little. So I had all my makeup spread out across the dresser—the lipsticks and rouges, pressed powder and eyeliner.”

  “Oh, no. She didn’t…” Jake’s words faded as he drew a breath and gathered Carin close to his side.

  “Yes, she did. I was just about to paint the canvas, so to speak, when the phone rang. I went to answer it, and my Aunt Myrtle burned my ears for half an hour. By the time I got back to the bedroom—oh, boy—Elise had worn the lipsticks to tiny nubs drawing a mural of flowers across the walls. Oh, she was naughty that day! But I just couldn’t be angry with her, even though I had to go to the celebration with bare lips and pale cheeks. And Albert wouldn’t think of painting over the artwork. Said it added character to the room. So we slept among the flowers until Albert passed on, and I sold the house and moved away.” She sighed, and her voice caught. “Oh, I miss him so.”

  11

  “The sonnet is a love poem,” Carin instructed her sixth-period class as she scribbled notes across the whiteboard. “It’s to be filled with heartfelt emotion.”

  “I don’t have no need for love poems,” Jimmy Doyle grumbled from his seat at the back of the room. “Why do we gotta learn this stuff?”

  “You gotta,” Carin emphasized, “because, luckily, hope springs eternal for even the most undeserving of us all.”

  “Oh, Jimmy,” Julia chimed in, “what Miss O’Malley means is you might get lucky enough to coax some girl into dating you one day, and you’ll want to have a clue about how to keep her, since you probably won’t be getting any second chances. Isn’t that right, Miss O’Malley?”

  “Thank you, Julia, for that very insightful observation.” Carin switched on the overhead projector and an outline flashed across the whiteboard. “Now, as I was saying—”

  “Someone’s at the door, Miss O’Malley,” Julia interrupted.

  Carin glanced up and saw Jake through the glass. He smiled and offered a quick wave as the dismissal bell rang. The students shuffled in their seats, gathering books and backpacks, ready to bolt. Carin lifted a hand to still them. “OK, we’ll discuss this further tomorrow. Remember to bring the rough draft of your sonnet to class and be prepared to share.” She dropped her hand and nodded slightly. “You may go now.”

  Chair legs scraped against tile as students rushed for the door. Jake sidestepped and wove his way through the mass, nodding to a few of the kids he knew from church. He stopped just short of Carin’s desk and grinned. “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Not at all.” Carin switched off the overhead light, leaving the fan on. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too. So, you’re teaching the kids how to write love poems?”

  “They’re going to pass love notes anyway. Might as well teach them the correct way to compose one.”

  “Makes sense.” Jake rocked back on his heels. “I guess I’d better brush up on my technique, then.”

  Carin laughed. “You can always audit my class.”

  Jake planted a hand on her desk and leaned in. “That’s nice…hearing you laugh.”

  “You seem to have a knack for tickling my funny bone.”

  “We all have our hidden talents.” Jake winked. “Are you free to leave now, or do you have lessons to plan and essays to slash?”

  “I have some papers to grade, but they can wait.” Carin breathed in the scent of soap and aftershave, noted the pressed khakis and a navy polo that hugged his ample biceps. “I’ve run out of my infamous green ink, anyway.”

  “I came by to check on you. You were pretty upset when we left Lilly last night.”

  “Yeah.” She followed the curve of his clean-shaven jaw, noted genuine concern in his eyes. “Sorry about that. Crying seems to be my specialty lately.”

  “I’d like to change that.”

  “Oh?” Her heart did a little two-step. “How?”

  “With a dose of football, maybe some dinner afterwards.”

  “Football?”

  “Sure. Want to head over to the ball field and catch Corey’s game? They’re playing the top rival this afternoon.”

  “Well.” She remembered now that Corey had mentioned the game to her as he left class that morning. “I certainly couldn’t miss that. And there is something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Such as…?”

  “Not here.” Carin gathered her tote and purse. “Let me put these essays in my car; then we can head to the field, if you want.”

  Jake nestled the stack of books she handed him in one hand and reached for her with his other. “Sounds like a plan.”

  ****

  “What did you buy at the concession stand?” Jake asked as he spread a blanket across the concrete stadium bleacher. Carin settled in beside him, zipping her windbreaker.

  “Mini peanut butter cups.” The bag rustled as she opened it. “Want some?”

  “They’re my favorite.” Jake delved into the bag and came out with a small handful. He tossed the candy into his mouth. “How did you know?”

  “Corey mentioned it in his journal.” Carin uncapped a bottle of water. “He wrote he has to hide them from you after you grocery shop because you’ll eat the entire bag. His exact words, I believe, were, ‘I didn’t get any of the peanut butter cups last night because my big fat pig of a brother ate the whole bag before I had a chance to hide them.’”

  Jake paused mid-bite. “He wrote that?”

  Carin handed him the bag. “Uh-huh. Direct quote.”

  “Hmm…the little rat.” Jake settled into the bleacher beside her and scanned the field below. Corey was passing a football to a teammate during a pre-game drill. “I think maybe it’s time to keep a journal of my own.”

  “I encourage the writing process in just about any capacity.” Carin sipped water. “The pen is mightier than the sword, and all that.”

  “Yeah, well my pen is an entire army, and I’ll slay anyone who tries to get his grubby hands on my peanut butter cups.”

  “I won’t touch them.” Carin laughed. “I promise. I’ll stick to my popcorn.”

  “You’re exempted from the rule.” Jake offered her the bag. “I’ll share with you.”

  “That’s nice, because I like them, too.” She took a cup. “May I ask you a question, Jake?”

  “Ask away.”

  “Hailey wants me to help her teach the middle-grades Sunday school class, and we thought we’d encourage the kids to help with the memory garden, too…like I mentioned to you.”

  “That’s not a question.”

  “I know. But what do you think…about me?”

  “I think you’re lovely.” He grazed her chin with his knuckle.

  “No. I mean, what do you think about me here.” She pressed her palm to her chest. “In my heart?”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking.”

  “Let me rephrase.” She wiggled closer to him and reached into the candy bag for another piece of chocolate. “Were you nervous the first time you got up in front of a church to speak?”

  “Oh, I was scared to death.” Jake remembered the Sunday clearly. As he’d approached the pulpit, he felt as if a million pairs of eyes swept over him. His heart took off at sprint-speed, and he thought, for a fleeting moment, that he might fall flat on his face. “East Ridge Church presented a tough crowd. Some of the older parishioners felt I was too young to lead a church, and they didn’t hesitate to make their views known. I felt like I was under a microscope for a while, and it was so hard. Mr. Staley and his wife took me under their wing and made me feel welcome. Mrs. Staley was still alive then and very active in the church.”

  “What was she like?”

  “She had a beautiful spirit. She didn’t let everyday frustrations get her down. She had a stronger faith than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  “That’s what everyone says.”

  �
��The cancer claimed her so fast we barely had time to fathom it. Mr. Staley took her passing pretty hard. We thought we’d lose him, too, but God has a way of providing the strength and desire for a person to take one more step even when he’s convinced he can’t.”

  “I believe that.”

  “After my parents died, most of the older folks began to accept me. It was a rite of passage, I suppose, to lose my mom and dad. It presented a measure of maturity I couldn’t turn my back on.”

  “You hardly had a choice.”

  “You should help Hailey teach the class, Carin.” Jake nodded. “You have a lot to offer our kids.”

  “But I’m not sure…I don’t know.” She shook her head. “My faith isn’t very strong, to say the least.”

  “That’s even more reason, then. I’m sure you understand that sometimes teaching others teaches us as well.”

  “That’s true. You’re right, Jake.”

  “Now, I have something to ask you—a favor.”

  “If you want me to mow the church lawn for you, you can forget it.”

  “No.” Jake laughed. “The mower’s retired for another season.”

  “Then what kind of favor do you need?”

  “A chaperone.”

  “What kind of chaperone?”

  “For the amusement park. Patrick and Julie and I are taking the youth group next Saturday, and we can use another set of eyes. It would give you a chance to get to know the kids, too, before you start to help Hailey with the class.”

  “You mean you want me to spend the day riding roller coasters and the Ferris wheel with a bunch of screaming teenagers?”

  “Well, I was hoping I might talk you into riding the Ferris wheel with me, but you have the general idea.”

  “OK, I’ll go if you promise not to rock the wheel’s seat while we’re stopped at the top.”

  “If you ride with me, I promise to be a complete gentleman.” His tone teased.

  “Are you crossing your fingers behind your back?”

  “No. I wouldn’t do that…at least as far as you know.”

  “OK, I’ll go. But you’d better not scream like a girl flying down those humongous hills on the coasters.”

  “Like a girl? Oh, you wound me.” Jake splayed a palm across his chest.

  “Corey told me you don’t much like heights…or roller coasters.”

  “The little rat. What else has he told you about me?”

  “Oh, he’s just a fount of information.”

  “I’ll bet. You shouldn’t believe half of what he writes.”

  “Even so, that still leaves plenty.”

  “That does it. Tonight he’s getting a plate of lima beans for dinner and absolutely no dessert—no dessert at all.”

  12

  “Let’s hit Thunder River first.” Corey wove his way through the crowd toward the hulking steel coaster. “There’s not much of a line.”

  “I don’t know…” Jake gazed up at the massive and unforgiving twists and turns of the track. Shrieks drifted on the breeze like confetti, and the wheels roared against winding metal. “It’s the biggest ride in the park. Maybe we should work our way up to it, warm up a little first.”

  “What, and give you a chance to chicken out? Forget that idea.” Corey clutched Jake’s arm. “It’s more fun this way. You gotta plunge right in—enjoy the full effect.”

  “It’s that effect I’m worried about.” Jake cringed. “I’m just being…cautious.”

  “Well, you can be cautious from thirty stories up. Just close your eyes and remember to breathe so you don’t hyperventilate.”

  “Great. Thanks for the visualization. I feel so much better now.”

  “Come on.” Carin grinned at Jake. “I’ll ride with you and hold your hand.”

  “Well, I can’t pass up an offer like that.”

  “Oh, look.” Corey pointed toward the tracks. “The bottom of the coaster drops out when you get to the top of the first massive hill, just before you fall, so your legs dangle free. All that’s keeping you from hurtling into space is the shoulder harness. That’s so cool!”

  Jake blanched. “If this ride breaks down while we’re on it and we get stuck upside down in one of those inverted loops, none of you is ever going to hear the end of it.”

  “Get real, Jake.” Corey rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to break down. They do safety checks, you know. You’re gonna love it.”

  “Like a root canal.”

  ****

  “Let’s take a break.” Jake said much later, as they wound their way through a dwindling crowd. “How about some ice cream?” He turned to Carin, grinning wearily. “What do you like, Miss Mario…as in Andretti?”

  She loved speed—he’d learned that pretty quickly. First seat, last seat, or somewhere in the middle—it didn’t matter as long as the coaster flew over the tracks at death-defying speeds. And the array of loops and swirls made the ride even better. Even so, she’d taken pity on Jake and called for the bumper cars when it was her turn to choose a ride.

  “Hmm…” Carin peered through the glass display case at the colorful tubs of ice cream. “All those dips and turns did make me awfully hungry.” She tapped the glass. “A double-scoop strawberry cheesecake swirl ought to put a dent in things.”

  “Strawberry cheesecake swirl, coming up.” Jake ordered two, and then left the kids to place their orders while he and Carin settled at a table out on the veranda.

  “I’m surprised you can eat that.” Carin watched Jake bite into his cone. “You look like you’re just beginning to recover from the most horrendous case of the flu.”

  Jake paused mid-bite and grimaced. “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah. White as a sheet doesn’t begin to cover it.” She nibbled a bite of strawberry. “Why did you come here today if you don’t like the rides so much? There had to be someone else from the church that would have chaperoned in your place.”

  “I came because Corey loves the rides, and he loves coming to places like this. I figure, he puts up with a lot of pretty boring stuff because of me, so the least I can do is suffer through a few rides…toss my lunch a few times…lose my voice hollering like a girl—”

  “You haven’t hollered even once.”

  “I know.” He tugged the collar of his T-shirt. “And the restraint is killing me.”

  Carin laughed. “You’re an amazing brother, Jake.”

  “I just take one small step at a time, count to ten a lot.”

  “Yeah, those teenage years can really do a person in.”

  “No kidding. I’m developing the gray hair to prove it.”

  “I don’t see any gray hair.”

  “Look closer.” He pulled her toward him, fought the urge to kiss her. The pastor in him said it was wrong…in front of so many kids. But the man in him searched for an excuse to devour her.

  “What are you doing?” Corey fell into a chair at their table, breaking the mood. “You have something in your hair, Jake?”

  So much for snatching a kiss. Jake sighed. “Yeah, a whole lot of gray.” He finished the last bite of his cone and stood. “I can see our little siesta has come to an abrupt end. It’s getting dark. Why don’t we head over to the Ferris wheel?”

  “Sounds great.” Carin gathered her fanny pack. “Something a bit slower paced is just what the doctor ordered after that ice cream.”

  “Yeah, if you’re middle-aged.” Corey groaned.

  “Who are you calling middle-aged?” Jake thumped Corey on the back. “Nobody here is even close to middle-aged—not yet, anyway. It’s my turn to choose a ride, and I choose the wheel.”

  “OK. I don’t need a lecture.” Corey wiggled from his touch.

  “Then get walking—double-time.”

  The group rounded a corner to see the Ferris wheel soar. Lights illuminated each spoke of the wheel, outlining it against a star-studded, velvet sky. The seats were open, and feet dangled from above as the wheel spun.

  “It doesn’t look so wi
mpy at night,” Corey commented. “OK, I guess it’ll be fun to ride.”

  “Glad I have your stamp of approval.” Jake took Carin’s hand. “Pair up.”

  The line was short, so they chose partners and piled into seats.

  “Look.” Jake nudged Carin’s shoulder and pointed to the seat below. “Corey and Amy are riding together. And Dillon and Carla. We’ll have to keep our eyes on them.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything, really.” Carin slipped into a seat and scooted over to make room for Jake. “It’s just very uncool for two guys to ride the Ferris wheel together, so they’re riding with the girls. That’s all.”

  “Is that your excuse for riding with me?”

  “Would you rather have Patrick ride shotgun?”

  “I don’t think Julie would like that.”

  Carin grinned as they went into motion. “Remember your promise not to rock the seat.”

  “What promise?” Jake winked and gave the seat a gentle nudge. “I don’t remember any promise.”

  “Jake!”

  “Just kidding. You’re safe with me.”

  The wheel paused with their seat at the top, affording an amazing view of the park below. Illuminated rides glimmered in the darkness like a sea of colorful stars.

  “Did we really ride that coaster?” Jake watched the cars speed through an inverted loop, glittering in the blanket of darkness. Faint squeals and laughter whispered across the breeze.

  “Yes, we did.” Carin massaged her knuckles. “And I have the bruised hand to prove it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jake twined his fingers with hers to stroke bruises away with the pad of his thumb. “I didn’t mean to squeeze so tight.”

  “It’s OK. We shouldn’t have made you ride so many coasters. I guess that wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”

  “If I had a journal, I’d document my angst.” He lifted his free hand, as if scrawling across the darkness. “But now that it’s over, I’m glad I rode them all. It’s a better fate than spending the next month taking jabs from the kids.”