by Tilty Edin
He exhaled. "Well, life isn't fair, is it?"
"Well," she said. "You're right about that."
"If you don't mind me wondering," he said. "How did she pass?"
"An aneurysm, or. I don't know. I forgot."
His face turned rigid with eyes flashing from a blank mystic stare to something warmer and more decent. "Sorry."
She half smiled. "It's silly, really, but..." she gave a pause.
He held her closer.
"Nevermind," she said.
"Well, I think Sage wouldn've been just a good a name as Leanne."
"You're too pleasent," she said. "What do you care what my name would've been?"
"I don't," he said. "As long as I know exactly what you're called now."
She chuckled with a slight desperation. "So yeah," she said. "My mother used to believe that I was my Aunt's reincarnation. Because, well, I just coincidentally happened to be born the very hour Aunt Sophia died. That's why I was going to be given the first name Sage, but my father talked my her out of it. Now it's just my middle, so, there’s the story. That’s why my name is Leanne. Only the middle is Sage."
"I don't think I was named after anyone," Tod said. "Doubt it anyway."
"Enough with my sob story," she said. "What's a good childhood memory for you?"
"My Dad was a happy drunk. I remember one time when I was just a kid he let me drink some beer with him when we went camping with my uncle and friends. We had a really good time."
"Your father must have been a great man."
"He was."
She glanced up at him. "What do you fear the most?"
"Losing my Dad was my worst fear. And I suppose now, losing those close to me."
She turned to look at him with shadowy eyes."We'll all lose each other, one way or another," she said faintly. "But here we, drifting and watching the stars, so far away from everything. At least, maybe just for tonight we could pretend we’re eternal."
He smiled, staring at her lips. “That’s got to be the most romantic thing I've ever been told."
She brought her hand slowly to his neck. "You don't have to worry about losing me," she whispered.
He kissed her, gently, but grew relentless as her lips melted with his. He felt the smoothness of her exposed skin. He felt her tremble.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She wrapped her arms around him and softly kissed his neck, rising up and pulling him inside the warmer cabin flooded with moonlight. "I might be more than alright."
He grew stiff, unraviling the pieces of her clothing one by one, and he traced every part of her, leaving nothing untouched.
10
8:30am
Leanne's hands grazed over blankets sprawled on the floor. Her eyes were not yet fully opened to the line where the night sky and the boat floor met. There was a strange silence and a stream of dark liquid flowing toward her from that line. It almost reached her. Almost.
She jolted awake and frantically threw the blankets off, glanced around, and took a deep sigh of relief. The skies were no longer dark, but full of bright colors making way for the rising sun. And the strange liquid, whatever it was, gone.
Under her bare feet, she could feel the boat moved in a firm direction. She felt her face with her cold hands, taking a deep breath and strolled over to the front deck, slipping on the polished surface misted with dew where she could see Tod steering the boat back to the shores.
Bits of sunlight peaked from the mountains and glowed on his face when he noticed her. "Goodmorning," he said. "Sleep okay?"
She rubbed her head with her hands. "Just had a strange dream."
He frowned. "What about?"
"I can barely remember what it was," she lied. “It must have been those scary stories last night.”
He smiled. "Must have been," he said. "I just got up a little bit ago and didn't want to wake you. I'm supposed to have the boat returned by 10. We were up most of the night. Maybe I should have." He reached over for her hand and kissed it. "You look really flushed. Maybe have some fruit. There’s still some in one of the coolers."
She nodded, turning towards the back of the boat.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about your dream?" he asked again.
She winced. "I'm sure."
Back in the cabin she searched for the strawberries or a bottle of water, but the cooler she rummaged through was only filled with empty bottles and ice. She checked the other cooler on the other side of the wall and tried to open it, but it appeared to be sealed completely shut. In the one beside it was the fruit. She made a plate and took it over to the front of the boat standing close behind Tod as he steered, watching the choppy waters.
She pressed a cool strawberry against his lips. "I've had a lovely time," she said contently.
He bit into the fruit and kissed her as sweetly as it tasted.
Once they reached the docks, she helped him tie up the boat and clean up.
She looked at the cooler she couldn't open. "What's in that one?" she felt inclined to ask.
He grabbed it's handles. "Salmon," he said. "You know, I forgot all about fishing. We could have gone if you'd like. but I figured it wouldn't be a fishing kind of trip."
She pursed her lips.
"Not a fishing kind of girl?"
"Not sure if I am or not. I've never gone."
He picked up the cooler. "We should go together sometime."
"Maybe next time."
"Next time," he repeated softly with a smile. "I like the sound of that."
She helped him get the last cooler in the trunk of his car parked nearby. "I do too."
He wiped the dust off his hands and ran a hand through his hair, messing it a bit, only to make him look that much more appealing. He smiled humbly, taking her hand. "I'll stay here and catch up on some extra work before tomorrow."
"I have some more studying," she replied. "I guess I'll see you soon then."
He inched his way closer to her. "How soon?"
She smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck."Very soon."
He kissed her cheek.
She painfully walked away from him and to her car. "I'll see you, Tod."
11
5:50pm
It had been a long day after Tod returned home. He went to the shower and turned on cold water, letting it soak into his stinging sun burnt back, then threw on some old clothes and walked over to his couch where he sat staring straight ahead to the fireplace, noticing for the first time in a while the picture of his mother on the mantle. He usually never noticed it, as if it were a demo advertisement left in there by the framing company.
He stood up, threw in some logs, lit a match and watched the flames flicker, feeling his teeth grind as if his whole jaw could crack. It was his sign of a much needed cigarette.
The setting sun peeked in through the blinds. He thought about how the days were only getting longer as he lit up. After a few puffs, he shuffled over to the kitchen, looking in the fridge and peeking through the cupboards until he found some spices and frozen chicken and took out a pan to fry the chicken in oil with.
While the pain sizzled, he replayed Leanne's voice when he called her earlier. "Will you come with me to Robinson's tomorrow sometime?" she had asked. "I've been missing my uncle Tuck and Jean. I thought they'd like to meet you."
He dashed spices on the frying chicken. His eyes would swell above the steam if he'd let them. The ghastly feeling he'd been carrying around that night shook him profusely, almost to the point where he couldn't hold the spatula as the meat browned.
His fingers dug into his eye sockets, hating the tears so much that they retreated back into his face. He was conflicted with a sharp piercing pain that ached his heart. There was no numbing it. Not even with all the alcohol he ever owned, all poured down the drain. He promised his father he wouldn't touch another drink durring the times when it 'just felt right.'
He glanced at a picture on the fridge. It was of his father, a bulging old ma
n with sunglasses falling from his face, balding head, stained Las Vegas beater with a bottle of beer in one hand, a cigarette in another. It might have been unframed and ripped up a little, but it was cherished a lot more than his mother's.
He drained the pasta and cut the chicken, got a plate and placed the dish on a small table in the living room and walked back over to the fridge to get something to drink. Past the milk and coke bottles, a hunk of tin foil stared back at him, so intently that it might as well could have had eyes.
He stared back and grabbed it.
He sat back down in front of the fireplace, turning the foil in his hands, watching the flames rise.
Everyone has something wrong with them.
He went over to the flames as he started unraveling the tin foil, slowly, to see two blackening dismembered fingers with the nails still chipped a glittery red. He threw them in, and thought hard as he watched the skin sizzle and the bones ashen.
But there's something really fucking wrong with me.
12
5:45pm
Leanne took off her reading glasses, sweater and tights and put on a satin blouse over a black plaid skirt. She washed her face and defined her eyelashes with some mascara, then tied her hair up in a loose ribbon, letting her bangs wisp away at the sides.
Abruptly she heard a knock.
At the door, she looked through the peephole, pulled the door open and grinned. She grabbed Tod's hand, pulling him towards her. "Come in."
He stepped inside to inhale the scent of musty incense and cleaning agents and eye the plain white walls, antique furniture and artifacts. The black cat clock with swaying eyes and tail ticked loudly on the wall.
He smiled. "Looks well lived in."
She held his hands tightly. "How was work yesterday?"
"Swell," he said. "Yours?"
"Just fine." She came up closer to him, caressing his unshaven jaw. "You look good with some facial hair," she mentioned. "Cool how it makes you look different."
He pulled in her hands and held them to his face. "I hope you mean that in a good way."
She blushed. "I do."
He smiled. "We better get going," he said. "Wouldn't want to keep your Aunt and Uncle waiting."
"I'm already, so, let's go."
They walked out of the apartment, down to the lot and got in her car.
He pulled out a cigarette from his pockets. "Mind?"
She started the engine. "Go ahead."
She put on the radio as he lit a cigarette, turning the dial every which way until something other than fuzz played.
Elvis lyrics hummed from behind her lips.
We can't go on together, with suspicious minds.
The view from outside the open windows grew greener as buildings turned to trees and highways turned to dirt roads. The decent sized, white painted store with the endless, ongoing gardens behind it soon appeared. With spring just on its way out, the trees looked fuller than ever, and the flowers bloomed with vivid colors of all kinds. In front of the store stood a big, wooden sign that had Robinson's, since 1920 painted in red.
They parked in front of the store and got out of the car to the sound of a raspy man's voice from far off.
"Leanne," her uncle called, coming up to the car. He was a taller man, wearing a red plaid button up and worn corduroy pants, and had a rather youthful appearance to him despite the red sun burnt skin.
Leanne grinned and gave him a hug. "Nice to see you, Uncle Tuck."
"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" he replied with a little laugh. "And hella good to meet you, Tod."
Tod shook his hand. "Good to meet you, too."
"Call me Tuck."
Tod buried his hands in his pockets. "I've heard all about this place," he said. “Glad to be here.”
Tuck nodded. "The history's good to know."
"How's Jean doing?" Leanne asked.
"Dandy," he replied. "Working hard as usual. She really is what's keeping this place going. I couldn't do it without her. Promise you that."
"Whenever she's not busy we'd like to say hi," Leanne asked.
"She's inside tidying up," Tuck waved an arm. "Come on in."
The three of them walked up to the old shop. Although it was rather run down looking in the front, leaves clogged in the gutters and white paint chipped off the exterior, inside was as clean as a whistle. There was a deep, authentic scent of cedar, fresh flowers and produce. Plants and all kinds of garden items set up delectably on wood shelves.
Jean stood by one of the glass fridges sweeping when she saw them come in. She was plump, with silk dark blonde hair tied up behind her head, bright blue eyes and a jocular smile. Her face, barely worn and tired despite her hard work and age instantly lit up when she saw them.
She set the broom aside. "Hiya Leanne!" she beamed.
Leanne grinned. "Jean it looks wonderful in here."
"Jeez, hasn't it been forever?"
Leanne embraced her. "Hasn't it?"
Jean pat her back and looked at her peculiarly. "How've you been?"
"Swell."
Jean glanced at Tod in amusement. "And he is?"
"Tod," he smiled softly, giving her a small hug. “Pleasure."
Jean chuckled. "My, and aren't you quite on the handsome side?"
Tod nearly blushed. "Thank you."
"We've been keeping busy," Uncle Tuck chimed in. "Especially on the weekends. Monday's err usually pretty slow, but it's the season."
"Maybe this place needs a new location," Leanne mentioned. "It's so far out. Everyone's been moving farther away from here and into the cities."
Jean crossed her arms. "I've been trying to tell Tuck that for five years now," she insisted with a high piping voice. "Still hasn't done a thing about it."
Uncle Tuck sighed. "We just don't have the money, Jean." He lit a cigarette. "And the time. We need a little more help before we get into all that."
"My boss has a few empty stores near Seattle," Tod mentioned. "He always tries to sell the space to me. I have no use for it, but he keeps making the offer cheaper every time he asks. Maybe it could be a start for somewhere new."
Jean nudged Tuck. "Did you hear that? And we got more than enough plants for transport. It would save a lot of time for customers driving all the way out here. We’d make a ton of sales."
Leanne smiled at Tod.
"You know, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea," Tuck said. "We'll think about it, Tod."
"Think about it?" Jean asked. "We'll take it!"
Tuck put an arm around Jean. "Well, we gotta think about this first sweets," he insisted. "Hey lovebirds, why don't you two take a gander and go out back? Those flower beds are beautiful. like the beautiful woman who grows them."
Jean smacked his arm.
"What did I do now?" he asked.
“If there's one thing I can't stand it's Flattery."
Tod and Leanne laughed.
“Don't be shy. Go on. Look outside,” Jean advised. “You’ll be surprised at how much we’ve improved.”
Leanne grabbed Tod's hand. "Can't wait to see."
"And don't forget to look at the new field!" Uncle Tuck called, rubbing his arm, but the two were already out the door.
13
8:40pm
Heavy clouds in the sky and the coolness of dawn had vanished with the late afternoon heat. Tod thought the serene quiet there was so much different than the deafening kind he was so used to, watching Leanne guide him through all the narrow beaten paths, having an easy time deciding what was prettier, the gardens or her. Though the gardens were magnificent, to him they weren't any match.
Flowers of all kinds surrounding them were in or near full bloom. They stopped at rows of rose bushes, painted from reds to white. He inhaled the sweet, tangy aroma without moving another step toward them.
Leanne exhaled.
He glanced at her.
"I love the hydrangeas," she smiled. "What's your favorite plant?"
"I don't know," he
said. "I think I’ve always liked bleeding hearts."
They kept on the path, all the way past the greenhouses and fields until they were on the border of the property. Leanne halted. Appearing in front of them was a lonely white shed. "I've never been inside it before," she told him.
He stepped in front of her, taking her by the hand. "Maybe you should."
They walked down the slight sloping hill until they could see the chipped off pieces of the paint. Leanne twisted the rusty knob. It opened with a bit of force, and she stepped inside first to an eerie feeling. The shed smelled strongly of bitter minerals and must. Shovels leaned against the cracked, wooden walls, and all sorts of tools and bags of soil, but there were also a lot of Aunt Sophia's old things. On a chair set Tuck once carved for her, molding boxes piled high of all her crafts.
"You would think my mother would have taken all these things with her," she said softly. "But I suppose it wouldn't seem right. My aunt loved it here more than anyplace else."
He glanced around, turning things over and dusting things off.
She blew away spider webs gittering in sunlight coming from the only window, painted with dust.
He placed a gentle hand on her. She lifted her head towards his. The thin beams of sun streaked into her eyes that looked to him warmly.
"You could almost feel a presence still here," he said.
She embraced him. "It seems that way."
The wind rushed through the far off mountains. Trees swayed, and leaves on the roof of the shed stirred.
He felt her head rest against his chest. Her eyes gazed out the small window where they could see, beyond a few evergreens, a sea of pale violet.
Her mouth lowered. "He planted a whole field."
She took him by the hand and ventured on out of the shed and past the trees and small bubbling stream. The clouds started to glow a subtle gold, brightening as the sun was drawing nearer to where the horizon would be.
