She shrugs. “They made me stay in the cop car until it was safe.”
“Thank God, you’re okay.”
“They all left like five minutes ago. I should have called you, though. I wasn’t thinking. Will you forgive me?”
I kiss her forehead. “Uh-huh. I would have come anyway.”
“But not with the posse. I feel like a fool.”
“Are you kidding? They’re getting the best fish on the island. Look at them.” I loosen my grip on her so she can peak over my shoulder. “They’re loving it.”
“Where’s Dani?”
“She offloaded the boat, so we could leave right away.”
Her forehead wrinkles up. “Isn’t there a night dive scheduled?”
“Dani can guide it. They’ll find somebody to drive.” I squeeze her hand. “No big deal.”
She snuggles close to me. “It is a big deal. You should be really mad.”
“I know.” I release her hand and tip her head back so I can see her face. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
She kisses me. “Thank you.”
“I love you.”
“I know.” She kisses me again.
Junior puts a plate of steaming fried fish on the table in front of me. “You want more, Sister Leesie?” He waits beside the table.
She lets me go and sits up. “I’m stuffed. Thanks.”
I bend over the plate, inhale the spices, suddenly starving. “Thanks, man.”
Junior grins. “You know my mum’s fish?”
I nod while I load up my fork and shove it in my mouth. I close my eyes and chew in bliss while the sweet, tender fish and crisp spicy coating party in my mouth.
Junior’s off frying more fish by the time I open my eyes and start digging for another bite.
“Oh, crap!” Leesie jumps up, knocking over her chair. “Kim!” She runs through the door into Jaz’s living quarters. I follow with my plate of fish.
Leesie’s laptop is dead, too. I plug it in for her and watch over her shoulder. Kim’s frantic. Steamed at first like I was, but calms down when the whole story comes out.
She wants to know Junior’s story. I do, too. Leesie let’s me eavesdrop.
The gist of it is he took his dad’s death hard. I can relate. Junior got mixed up with drugs, stole from Jaz, threatened her. She turned him in. The judge imposed a restraining order. He got probation and community service—left the island, ashamed, as soon as he could. Poor, Jaz. That must have killed her. He got a job frying fish in the Bahamas, cleaned up, worked hard. Came home when he heard about Jaz’s foot. He called his sister—homesick for news.
I bend over and kiss Leesie’s cheek. That could have been me if it wasn’t for her. I took my parent’s death hard. But she was there.
Leesie signs off with Kim. We sit out on the back porch holding each other—not talking or even making out. Just being.
That’s all I really want.
To just be.
With her.
Chapter 32
THE PLAN
LEESIE HUNT CHATSPOT LOG / 07/06 5:30 PM
liv2div says: hey babe, it’s me…I borrowed Alex’s computer.
Leesie327 says: Does this mean you aren’t coming over tonight?
liv2div says: I have to teach…last minute
Leesie327 says: We missed you at church yesterday.
liv2div says: I missed going.
Leesie327 says: Really?
liv2div says: don’t get mad…I’ve been reading the Book of Mormon without you
Leesie327 says: That’s amazing! Read as much as you want.
liv2div says: I got to the part where an angel stopped that rebellious guy and his friends and told them to change their evil ways…I feel kind of like that
Leesie327 says: I never said you were evil.
liv2div says: who says you’re the angel?
Leesie327 says: I forgot what a snot you are when we chat.
liv2div says: how’d you get to church?
Leesie327 says: Junior has a vintage VW bus.
liv2div says: whoa, classy wheels
Leesie327 says: He got it back from a friend on Saturday. I helped him scrub it this morning, but it still smells like pot.
liv2div says: how do you know what pot smells like?
Leesie327 says: Today was an education.
liv2div says: So, babe, what do you want to do now that Jaz doesn’t need you?
Leesie327 says: She still needs me—lots. I’m going to help with the fish shack, too.
liv2div says: how long?
Leesie327 says: Until you’re done here, I guess.
liv2div says: And then I can take you home?
Leesie327 says: Yeah. For sure. Let’s go so there’s plenty of time before school starts.
liv2div says: time for what?
Leesie327 says: To see my parents and Stephie. Visit Gram, and um
liv2div says: spill it…what else?
Leesie327 says: Maybe enough time to have a quiet wedding in the backyard?
liv2div says: What if I got baptized? Would there be time for a wedding in the temple?
Leesie327 says: Excuse me. My heart stopped beating. Did you really say that?
liv2div says: it doesn’t seem impossible anymore
Leesie327 says: Listen, I’d love to have you get baptized that soon, but I don’t want to rush you. Take your time. You have to be a member for a year before you can go to the temple.
liv2div says: A whole year? That’s a new one. I thought all I had to do was get baptized.
Leesie327 says: Baptism is a huge step. Don’t do it until you’re totally ready. But marry me before we move down to Provo.
liv2div says: is there anything you want to tell me before we get married? maybe about the accident?
Leesie327 says: No. You know everything.
liv2div says: are you sure?
Leesie327 says: You’re not getting out of marrying me. You promised.
liv2div says: what if I decide not to get baptized?
Leesie327 says: It won’t make me love you less. I’ll respect your decision and pray you’ll change your heart.
liv2div says: if you start praying, I won’t stand a chance!
Leesie327 says: So I can tell my mom to start planning a wedding?
liv2div says: no…don’t do that
Leesie327 says: Please, Michael. I’ve got your diamond on my finger. End of the summer. You promised.
liv2div says: in the backyard? even if I’m not a Mormon?
Leesie327 says: If we’re married, we can have our own apartment, no more saying good-bye every night, and we can—24/7, remember?
liv2div says: I know
Leesie327 says: Don’t you want that?
liv2div says: I forgot how sex-crazed you get when we chat
Leesie327 says: It’s easier to bring it up when you’re not breathing down my neck.
liv2div says: I make you nervous?
Leesie327 says: Duh. Always have. We gotta get married.
liv2div says: let me think about it
Leesie327 says: You’re not getting out of it.
liv2div says: what am I supposed to do in Provo?
Leesie327 says: That’s your problem.
liv2div says: maybe I want to come back to Cayman and work or go somewhere else
Leesie327 says: You need to go to college. You could go to the U or UVU.
liv2div says: and study what?
Leesie327 says: I don’t care. Our kids need an educated father.
liv2div says: KIDS!
Leesie327 says: Uh-huh. Three girls and two boys.
liv2div says: FIVE?
Leesie327 says: Don’t you want kids?
liv2div says: Yeah. I do.
Leesie327 says: I’m starting young. We can have lots.
liv2div says: We’re just 19.
Leesie327 says: I’m almost twenty.
liv2div says: not…maybe we should wait that year
Leesie327
says: No. No way. You’ll take off. Leave me again. I’ll lose you.
liv2div says: thanks for the vote of confidence, babe…I’ll stay in Provo…I won’t let you out of my sight
Leesie327 says: But that puts all kinds of pressure on you to get baptized right away. I won’t do that to you.
liv2div says: you aren’t doing it…I am…you really want to be a mom at twenty?
Leesie327 says: So we’ll wait a couple years on the kids. Let’s still get married. The backyard will be full of flowers in August.
liv2div says: and what will you tell those kids of ours when they want to do that instead of hang on for the temple?
Leesie327 says: That their father drove me crazy every time he walked into a room, and we’d suffered long enough.
liv2div says: you just want my body?
Leesie327 says: Uh-huh.
liv2div says: aren’t you the girl who taught me we came to earth to be tested?
Leesie327 says: That’s not fair. You’re too good a student.
liv2div says: get used to it, babe
Leesie327 says: So we wait? Crap. What do we do next?
liv2div says: I guess we better call the missionaries…if I’m going to do this, let’s do it
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #100, DISCUSSIONS
The next time
Michael pulls up
in front of Jaz’s hopping fish shack
and I flurry out to meet him,
I’m shy—
to touch his hand,
to kiss his lips,
to tell him the requested
missionaries, sufficiently stuffed
with fish soaked in buttermilk,
breaded with Jaz’s secret recipe
and fried to perfection by Junior,
wait on the porch.
Michael’s different—strange to me—
I no longer lead, guide, walk beside.
He’s taken control of his destiny
and mine. I worry he’ll bring up
the accident again like he did online.
He kisses me instead.
His lips taste familiar
as we linger at the roadside
reconnecting after five days apart.
“Are we going to do this?” His
whisper stirs my hair.
I nod—find his lips again.
“What was that for?”
“In case you never kiss me again.”
My face gets hot. “Remember?”
A phantom from his last
missionary encounter rises
menacing between us.
He wafts it away with a wave
of his hand, strong and tan,
that cups my chin.
“That’s not going to happen—
Those guys were right.
I didn’t have ears.”
He holds my hand
and pulls me along the path
to meet the two smiling elders
who know him from church.
Guys his age—humble, excited to teach.
Michael reflects their energy,
listens, nods, accepts, believes.
At the end, he says the prayer when they ask.
“Dear Heavenly Father”—
his voice tender, full of love—
“Thank you—thee—for opening
my eyes and giving me
Leesie to fill my heart.”
I join his “amen,” in the name
of Jesus Christ, and offer my own
silent thank you, in awe of the man
beside me who shakes
the missionaries hands, makes
the next appointment, sees them off,
then reaches for my hand
and brings it to his lips,
kissing, one by one, the nail prints
he left so long ago when he showed
me his wounds and I tried to anoint them
with the only balm I knew.
He pulls me into his arms,
kisses me like I’m
a daughter of God.
And my brimming
heart knows
he’s ready to be
a son.
Chapter 33
COMMITTAL
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG – VOLUME 10
Dive Buddy: Leesie and the elders
Date: 07/26
Dive #: --
Location: Grand Cayman
Dive Site: Jaz’s porch
Weather Condition: muggy
Water Condition: it’s so hot I wish I was in it
Depth: high and dry
Visibility: into the future and it looks good
Water Temp: it’s probably pushing 90
Bottom Time: forever
Comments:
“So, Brother Walden, would you like to set a date for your baptism?” Elder Kitchen is from northern Arizona.
He was stoked when I told him I’m from Phoenix. “My I-don’t-know-how-many-great grandparents pioneered in Mesa.” They went south from Salt Lake when Leesie’s dad’s ancestors went north to Idaho. Elder Kitchen punched my arm and said, “Cool. I come all the way to Grand Cayman to teach a bro from Phoenix.” He grew up in Snowflake—tiny place, mostly Mormons, up on the UT/AZ border. They have winter there. Not sure why you’d want to live in Arizona where there’s winter, but Elder Kitchen loves it—misses the place like crazy.
I look from him to his companion, Elder Quincy from Ohio, to Leesie. She’s holding her breath, turning blue at the edges.
“Breathe, babe.” I reach for her hand. “You think I’m ready?”
Elder Quincy, who has only been a member for a couple years—and one of those was spent on his mission—rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re a lot more ready than I was.” His family cut him off when he got baptized, but his ward—that’s a full size Mormon congregation—back in Ohio is paying for his mission.
Leesie sets our hands on her knee and places her left hand on top. Her ring catches the sun that streams in behind us. “The question is—do you think you’re ready?”
After the fourth of July holidayers left, business slacked off out at East End. It’s not as dead as it will be in August when hurricane season starts to heat up, but I’ve only been working one dive a day—sometimes not even that. Gabriel can instruct, too. He’s been taking all the students—training Alex. They want to buy a place, maybe over on Cayman Brac, and go into business together.
I’m the only guy the elders are teaching. They’d much rather teach me and eat free fish than pound on doors or try to talk to people on buses or the streets. Beach missionary work is against the rules. We’ve spent hours every day this month, except Mondays when they get a day to do laundry, write emails home, and play basketball and on Tuesday morning when they volunteer at a shelter, running the fans full blast on Aunty Jaz’s back porch, trying not to melt without A/C, and talking about Joseph Smith, Jesus Christ, Heavenly Father and what He’s got planned for me.
I close my eyes and look inside. Am I ready? Can I ever be ready? My eyes drift open. “I’m not done reading the Book of Mormon.”
Leesie pats my hand. “You’re close.”
Elder Kitchen leans forward with his hands clasped, his eyes serious. “Have you prayed about it?”
I nod.
Elder Quincy mirrors Kitchen’s pose and speaks with a solemn voice. “And you know it’s true.”
I swallow and look at Leesie. Her eyes are on my face. I whisper, “Yes. I do.” Those three words bring a powerful surge of warmth, a feeling I’ve come to crave.
A grin grows on both elders’ faces. Elder Kitchen sits up. “Then let’s set a date. When are you leaving?”
Leesie and I are lost in each other. Elder K’s question doesn’t register. Happiness makes Leesie glow. Joyful. That’s what she is. I know it sounds corny, but joy fills me up, too.
Elder Quincy clears his throat. “Are we in the way here?”
Leesie
gets pink and turns to them. “We’re leaving the tenth of August.”
It was going to be sooner, but Gabriel and Alex are going to Cayman Brac to assess a dive operation that might be up for sale soon and convinced us to go along. Gabriel and I are staying with a friend of his who works on the Brac. The resort is comp’ing Alex and Leesie a room. Leesie made Alex promise Gabriel would not be allowed in that room before she agreed to go.
Leesie’s parents were disappointed at the delay, but they were cool about it. Her dad has been cool about everything.
I put my right hand on top of Leesie’s to complete the stack on her knee. “Could Leesie’s dad baptize me?”
Leesie leans her head on my shoulder. “He’d love, too. Call him.”
Elder Quincy’s face falls. “Oh, man. We wanted to dunk you.”
Elder Kitchen elbows him. “It’s okay, Elder. We’ll survive.”
I realize what they’re saying. If I wait until we go home, these guys who I’ve come to love like brothers, can’t be there. “I could fly them all here. Leesie’s family and Gram. I want Gram to be at the baptism—to feel this.” I put my hand on my heart.
Leesie lifts her head. “It’s getting close to harvest.” Her voice wobbles. “Dad can’t leave the farm.” I can tell she’s thinking that he’ll be doing it alone this year. No Phil to help. She turns to me. “I’d like to drive truck for him while we’re there.”
CAYMAN SUMMER (Taken by Storm) Page 21
