Landlocked (A water witch novel)

by C. S. Moore

  I nodded, wondering what had made her think of the distant memory.

  “Well that’s how they treat you, like an egg baby.”

  I laughed, knowing it was true. “Well I hope they treat me better than you treated yours. If my memory serves correctly, you broke it within the first hour.”

  Her face dropped in mocked despair. “It’s true, poor baby Jessica!” She looked at me straight faced again. “Wait, what reminded you of telling your aunt about Jaron?” She asked and looked behind her at the still embracing couple. “They did! Holy smokes you’re—” The drilling cut her off, but she made an impatient face and raised her voice to a shout. “YOU’RE HOTTER FOR JARON THAN I THOUGHT.”

  The construction noise stopped and everyone was staring at us. Clarissa grinned at me. She was never embarrassed. I was flaming. She turned to look at the movie times. “I’ll bet you can hear that inside. I hope he takes a break during the movie.”

  “I guess I could,” a deep voice chimed from behind me.

  Every muscle in my body locked up and my head started spinning. Oh no, it couldn’t be him. Had he heard what Clarissa said? I slowly turned on unstable legs to have my worst fears confirmed. It was Jaron standing oh so close with an impish grin stretched across his dust-covered face. Even in my completely mortified state, I could still appreciate his sparkling eyes, tousled hair, and glistening brow. The hard labor had his black t-shirt clinging to his tight muscular torso in a way that made my eyes linger.

  “Hey, dust bunny, what are you doing here?” Clarissa asked, pulling me out of my daze.

  He turned to her, crinkling up his nose in the cutest way. “Dust bunny, really? I’m just hanging something up.”

  “What are you hanging?” I asked, immediately curious and relieved to have recovered my voice.

  “Well I told you that I was in art class since your school doesn't have shop.” He stepped out of my way and gestured to an ornate sculpture now on the wall.

  Somehow he had turned metal into water. I marveled at the movement he had given to the stationary waves that seemed to ripple and crash into each other. I sucked in a breath, surprised by the beauty of it. Leaving Clarissa in line, I walked over to see it closer. The metal was raw and unpainted, but different shades of blue and gray swirled throughout it. I studied the white tips of the breaking waves and noted the tiny specks of melted metal that mirrored the ocean’s spray. How he had created the effect was a mystery. It looked far too delicate. I reached out and touched one of the cool smooth whitecaps.

  “They wanted a water feature but couldn’t afford a fountain. They saw my booth at the art exhibit and I’m cheap.” He laughed. “Do you like it?” His eyes couldn’t hide the hope he had that I would.

  “It’s amazing, Jaron.” His name felt so good on my lips. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  “I have,” he said, his eyes ablaze.

  “Wait! That metal sculpture of the woman with wind-swept hair… That’s your’s?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Come on. We’re going to be late!” Clarissa shouted, standing in front of the ticket window.

  “Oh.” I had forgotten about the movie. I turned to him apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’m uh, I was going…” I stammered idiotically.

  Clarissa rolled her eyes and stomped over to us. “You want to catch a movie with us?” she asked, pointing her thumb between the two of us.

  I glared at her. She knew I wasn’t allowed to go out with a boy without trotting him home first.

  “Oh, he's here and you're here. You totally went out separately.”

  Jaron’s head bobbed back in confusion.

  “Come on, Casanova, it’s about to start!” She tapped her foot.

  “What are you going to see?” he asked.

  She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Does it really matter?”

  I nudged her. “Of course it does. We’re seeing… What was it again?” I asked, wishing I had paid attention earlier now feeling foolish for not knowing the title.

  “Frank and Family,” she said, looking at her wrist watch.

  “As long as it’s not about a family of Frankensteins, I guess I could catch it with you,” he joked.

  Clarissa’s lip pulled down on one side and her eyes widened.

  “It is about a family of Frankensteins, isn’t it?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “It’s supposed to be a good movie.” She stuck out her tongue and went to buy a ticket.

  I turned to him. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” I took a step back. I didn’t want to hurt Clarissa’s feelings.

  He strode forward, closing the distance I had put between us. “No I’d love to see a movie with you two. I have to stop working now anyway. How could I miss out on something promising to be such a cinematic masterpiece?”

  My excited smile mirrored his, and we turned to the ticket window. “Two to Frank and Family—”

  “No, only one. I’m getting my own ticket,” I said, interrupting him. I glanced at the red vested guy in the window. He pursed his lips in annoyance but pressed a key on the computer.

  “Why?” Jaron asked as his eyes narrowed into slits.

  I pushed my money through the slot and grabbed my ticket. “Well, why would you pay for me?”

  He slid his cash to the man and put the ticket into the front pocket of his worn jeans. “Well, it’s a traditional thing to do when you’re on a date,” he said, opening the door for me.

  A date? Dylan’s face popped into my mind. “No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t a date.” I opened the left side door, curbing his act of chivalry, and walk into the theater.

  He shrugged and followed me in. “Wow that’s a lot of no’s. Can I ask why?”

  I moved to the snack bar to grab some popcorn; salty snacks were my weakness. I smiled after the employee handed me the tub. She was a lot nicer than the ticket guy. Of course seeing Jaron would put any woman in a good mood. I blushed at the thought.

  He peered at me from the side. “So… why isn’t this a date?”

  Sheesh, he was insatiable. “Well first off, this isn’t a date because if it was one and I didn’t tell my aunt and uncle about it first, I would be in sooo much trouble.” I paused, gathering my bravery. “And second, if you wanted to take me out on a date, you’d have to ask me first.”

  “Aunt and uncle?” he asked.

  Shoot. I hated this conversation. “Yeah, they've taken care of me ever since I can remember,” I said, hoping he’d drop it.

  He must have sensed my reluctance, because he didn’t prod me any further. We walked in silence down the dimly lit hallway and the quiet didn’t feel awkward, just nice. I crinkled my nose at the musky smell of age in the air. All of the décor in the place gave the impression that an acclaimed designer had put in a lot of money and man hours to make it appear vintage, when really it just was.

  “So I have to ask you in advance, huh?” He handed his ticket to a young kid who tore it down the middle and gave him back the stub. “Do you make it this hard for all of the guys?”

  I put my stub in my clutch and answered honestly. “I've never wanted to go out with any of the other guys.”

  He stopped walking and turned to look at me. “So you’re saying that you want to go out with me?”

  I looked at the floor, because his gaze was too intense. I should have censored that thought. He just had a strange way of making me forget that I needed to. “I don’t know yet. I guess when you ask me you’ll find out.” I lifted my head and grinned at him. Dylan always said my smile could get me out of anything. I hoped that included revealing too much of myself to a stranger. I had to force myself to think the word, because stranger and Jaron weren’t inclusive terms in my mind. But really, no matter how I felt around him, that’s what he was.

  “I look forward to it,” he said, sounding out of breath.

  My smile couldn’t have done that to him, could it?

  “So how formal do I need
to be? Does it need to be a written request two weeks in advanced? Will I need to take said letter to a notary?”

  “Do whatever you think is necessary.” I laughed and nudged him with my hip.

  As soon as our frames collided, a pulse reverberated through my body like a heartbeat, only I felt it everywhere waking up parts of me that I didn’t know existed. I froze in place, as did he. Jaron looked at me wide eyed and I knew he felt it too.

  He took a shaky breath and his eyes clouded in confusion. “Let’s go find that friend of yours before she tries to find us. I get the feeling she would.”

  “Yes.” The word rushed out with the breath I’d been holding. “She would.”

  We stood gazing at each other, neither of us making a move to go. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and not because of the way his eyes scorched me, but because I felt like we were being watched. I turned swiftly and caught the shadow of a tall man just before he ducked into one of the other showings. I looked back at Jaron a little bemused. Why would anyone find us interesting? He didn’t look amused. In a fraction of a second, he had changed. His chiseled face was cast in shadows. In the low light of the hallway, he looked glorious and menacing. I didn’t know if it was the lighting playing tricks on me, but his mood seemed to darken by the moment.

  “Let’s get to your show,” he said, moving to grasp my arm. He hesitated and pulled his hand away. “I’m sure the previews are about over.” Jaron walked me to theater number four, standing so close I could feel his body awakening something in me, though we weren’t touching. Without a word, he opened the door and ushered me inside, never taking his eyes away from where the stranger had stood.

  We stepped into the dark theater, and with the loss of sight, my other senses heightened. Over the noise blaring from the speakers, I could hear his heart hammering away, keeping time with mine. I could taste his scent on my lips, and the salty musk made me dizzy. But all of those things were drowned out by a stirring inside of me. My skin tightened and prickled with longing. An urge to reach out and wrap my arms around his neck, twirl his dark hair around my fingers was so strong I had to grab the hand rail to keep from throwing myself at him. The cool sting of the metal railing helped me regain composure.

  I chanced a look his way. Jaron was pressed against the wall opposite me, his wide eyes amazingly bright. I wondered if he could feel the frantic energy pulsing between us or if it was just me feeling gravitated to him. He opened his mouth as if to speak then stopped. A wry smile pulled up the left half of his perfect lips.

  “I think we are being summoned.” He gestured over my shoulder.

  Out in the dark crowd of people, a soul person was standing up waving their arms dramatically.

  “I don’t like being summoned,” I said quietly and turned back. It felt more comfortable to look at him now that I had myself under control.

  “Neither do I,” he said and glanced back down the hall leading to the lobby.

  A hiss reached my ears. “Maribel!”

  I groaned. Clarissa really was annoying.

  “Come on, before she has a heart attack.”

  “Or before someone punches her in the face for interrupting such an important film,” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine as I stifled a laugh.

  We climbed up the steps in the dark and I tripped a few times because the owner of the old theater hadn’t decided to splurge on step lights yet. Jaron seemed unperturbed by the dark and patiently waited for me. The movie was just starting. I awkwardly shimmied down the aisle, excusing myself. After a moment, I realized Jaron had stopped. He was a few yards behind me hovering above someone. I squinted and realized who he was standing over. Brad and two of his friends were there.

  I hurried back down to him. Jaron’s eyes looked distant. “Come on, Jaron. They aren’t bothering anyone.” He didn’t move. “He already said sorry.”

  Jaron nodded and walked forward with me. I noticed that everyone in the theater had their eyes on us instead of the screen. If I thought I was embarrassed before, I was one hundred times more so now. As we walked away, I heard Brad’s hushed voice.

  “Jeez, that’s the new guy, right?”

  “He’s huge.”

  “He’s not that huge… But it looks like Maribel’s finally got a boyfriend.”

  I hoped that Jaron hadn't heard that last part, but my instinct told me that if I could hear it, he could too. I took my seat next to Clarissa, my overly nosey and straight shooting friend. Nothing in our long history made me think that she would leave it alone, but I was hoping against all reason that she wouldn’t bring up the little outburst that had peaked the entire audience’s curiosity. I was once again reminded never to hope against reason.

  “What happened? Seemed like Jaron was about to box a dude,” she said in an all too audible whisper.

  Jaron took a seat next to me, still appearing irritated. I studied his face in the soft changing light reflecting off of the screen. His masculine features cut through the light like knives leaving shadows lying on his skin. Under his high cheekbones dark triangles stretched out to his jaw, and a little black diamond nestled into the deep cleft in his chin. Though his beauty was undeniable, he looked worn, like he'd been through a lifetime’s worth of work and hardships. His mouth seemed comfortable being tugged down at the corners, which surprised me since in the short time that I'd had with him, his plump lips had always been pulled up into a winning smile.

  “Well since Maribel seems to have temporarily gone mute… what happened back there, Jaron?” she asked. I had never seen her pay that close attention to anything; she seemed almost as protective as Aunt Sylvia would have been if she had been there.

  His normal happy-go-lucky demeanor was back when he turned to her. For an instant I pictured him slipping on a mask—but shook out the thought, not sure why it had run across my mind in the first place.

  “Just a boy being stupid, makes me feel like I need to apologize for my gender,” he said, unable to put humor in his voice—though I knew that’s what he had intended.

  “What do you mean…?” Her eyes lit up in realization. “Did one of them touch you?” she demanded, no longer attempting to quiet her voice.

  “No, no, no, no,” I said quickly, trying to calm my best friend/verbal volcano before she could spew molten lava on anyone. “Yesterday at the art fair, Brad kind of grabbed me… But Jaron stopped him before he got out of hand.” Clarissa’s face turned from red to purple and I guessed I'd said the wrong thing. At that moment, I really wished the movie was actually not a total bomb so people would shush her. But it must have been pretty bad, because if anything, the interested faces around us looked like they wanted her to speak up so even the cheap seats could hear her.

  She stood swiftly from her chair and pointed to where we had stopped. “You think it’s okay to touch a girl whenever you want, you think my friend here is some kind of possession of yours?” She started walking down the aisle, shaking off my hands as I attempted to hold her back. She stopped in front of the group of boys, who thought they could somehow evolve into turtles and pull their heads into their chest cavities, or so it appeared. “Here I am, Brad,” she bellowed. “Go ahead and touch me, see what happens.”

  I was shocked and embarrassed beyond belief, but not too shocked too notice the real smile dancing across Jaron’s face, or too embarrassed to see the amount of love that Clarissa’s over-the-top display showed. In the middle of her colorful tirade, I was glad that we weren’t at a children’s movie, knowing that their presence wouldn’t have had an effect on the number of expletives she used. At last all three boys got up and headed for the exit, with Clarissa booing and hissing at them as if they were old timey villains.

  She plopped back into her old squeaky chair. “What did I miss?”

  “Only the most dramatic performance ever,” Jaron said theatrically. “Yours, that is. You didn’t miss anything in the movie. It’s pretty awful… in fact I think we need candy to get through
it.” He paused, looking toward the exit. “I’ll be back.”

  “Okay,” I said, smiling at him. I was pretty impressed that he could handle the full force of Clarissa in stride. Most guys couldn’t.

  “What do you want?” he asked then added, “And no this isn’t a date if I buy you candy. That’s what totally platonic friends do, right?”

  “Junior Mints, just as long as it’s strictly platonic,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

  “I’ll have some Dots, thanks for asking,” Clarissa interjected.

  Jaron walked out of the theater and I nestled into the chair to try and enjoy the movie. After five minutes I picked up on the fact that the writers must have been shooting for a merger of Harry and the Hendersons and Young Frankenstien, two of my favorite movies. Unfortunately their goal fell terribly short and the movie consisted mostly of poorly executed physical comedy. It would have been a total bust if I had come by myself, but with Clarissa bouncing in her chair and snorting out laughter, it was still a fun evening. I looked toward the entrance, expecting Jaron to be walking in any second, but he wasn’t there.

  “Maribel! You missed it—” Clarissa laughed. “He just put a fork in a power outlet!” She bent over in laughter and slapped her leg. “Oh, Frankenstiens…”

  I glanced at the screen in time to see smoke coming out of the monster’s ears. “Yes, hilarious. Hey, don’t you think Jaron should be back by now?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about it. It hasn’t been that long. Just watch the show. You’re missing all of the good stuff.”

  I tried to get into the movie so that I didn’t offend her, but the longer Jaron took the more nervous I got. The movie was more than half over; he had been gone at least thirty minutes, maybe more. Would those three boys have tried to jump him? I didn’t think so; they looked scared and put in their place, not ready to fight. But, what else could make him take that long?