nowhere

by Marysue Hobika

  I couldn’t let her go that easy. I had to get her to change her mind about me. I reached out and quickly pulled her against my chest. I could feel her heart beating against mine. I paused one second too long the other night and I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. I dipped my head down. I couldn’t wait to taste the sweetness of her mouth. I was inches away from touching my lips to hers when she stiffened in my arms.

  She pushed against my chest with both hands. I let her go. “It’s time for you to leave, James.” She stormed inside, slamming the door behind her.

  I bent over and picked up my fallen shirt. I left it neatly folded on the swing. I wanted her, but I could wait. Forcing her to feel something that she wasn’t ready for was not my style. She’d come around. She wouldn’t have bothered to go to such extremes to get back at me if she didn’t care. I’d give her time to cool down and then I’d be back.

  Chapter Nine

  Mike

  I banged the kitchen cupboard doors, releasing frustration. I rummaged around in the refrigerator, searching for something to eat—I tended to eat when I was upset. Due to a lack of better options, I decided on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I slammed the ingredients down on the counter. Slapping two pieces of bread together, I made a quick sandwich. I added a handful of chips to my plate.

  Pop-Pop strolled into the kitchen. “What’s all the ruckus? It feels like an earthquake. I know you miss California and all, but this is taking it too far.”

  “I’m making lunch,” I retorted as I plopped down at the table to eat.

  “What you got there?” he asked, eyeing my sandwich.

  “Plain old pb and j.”

  “All that noise just to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” Pop-Pop settled into his usual place at the kitchen table, folding his hands. Silently he watched as I stuffed a handful of salty chips in my mouth and chewed. I felt guilty for eating in front of him. “Do you want me to make you one?” I mumbled with my mouth full.

  “I don’t eat peanut butter. I can’t stand the stuff. I never could understand why kids love it so much.”

  “It’s good.” I took a bite of my sandwich and acted like I was eating a fifty-dollar lobster tail.

  “I’ll take your word for it. What I’d love is a turkey sandwich with some homegrown lettuce on it. A slice of tomato would taste good too.”

  I scraped my chair loudly across the kitchen floor as I pushed back from the table. Once again I rummaged around, getting out all the ingredients. Only this time I made a turkey sandwich.

  “You sure are like a bull in a china shop,” he snickered.

  My heart softened a little. My dad used to tell me that.

  I’d almost finished making his lunch when he added, “Oh yeah, don’t forget the dill pickle. I like a dill pickle on the side. And no chips for me.”

  “No problem,” I muttered, doing what he’d requested. I placed the plate in front of him.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking a big bite. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

  I sat back down to finish my own lunch.

  “Did you see Emma at school?”

  “Nope.”

  “Didn’t she have cheerleading try-outs today?”

  “I think so.” I didn’t pay much attention to what Emma did.

  “I wonder if she made the squad. She sure seemed excited. It’s good to see her trying to make friends” He was speaking more to himself than to me. “For her sake, I hope she makes the team. What’s your story? You make any friends yet?”

  “I already have friends. Too bad they’re all on the West Coast.”

  “Humph.” He crunched into his pickle, ignoring my surly attitude. “What about that truck I saw pull out of my driveway a few minutes ago? I thought I recognized it. Doesn’t it belong to Jack Muldoon’s son? I can’t remember the boy’s first name.” He scratched his head. “What I do know is that he’s one hell of a football player. Why, he’s even got a shot at playing pro ball. Imagine, a farmer’s kid with all that talent. Just goes to show you that you can’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “You and your clichés,” I exclaimed, letting out a deep sigh. “Now I know where Aunt Carol gets them.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” he asked.

  “Really, Pops,” I said, giving him a nickname. It suited him better than Pop-Pop. I could tell he thought so too. His eyes brightened.

  Turning serious again, he said, “You didn’t answer my question. Is that Muldoon boy a friend of yours?”

  “His name is James. Most call him Dooner.” I rolled my eyes to indicate how ridiculous his nickname sounded. “Either way, I’d hardly call him a friend. We just met three days ago.”

  “Well, I saw how that boy looked at you, and to me it looked like he’s interested in being more than your friend. I may be old, but I can recognize when a boy wants to court a girl.”

  “Excuse me?” I shook my head. “Do you know what year it is? People don’t use the word ‘court’ anymore.” Once I got beyond the old fashioned vocabulary, I realized that he must have been watching us. My face turned red. “You were spying on us?”

  “I wasn’t spying on you. I was sitting in my chair, working on today’s crossword puzzle, like always. I heard a truck pull in, so I got up to see who it was. The two of you were talking on the porch. It was nothing that concerned me, so I sat back down.”

  I scowled.

  “That reminds me. Today’s puzzle’s a tough one. Maybe you can help. Your mom’s always going on about how smart you are.” He pulled the crossword out of his front shirt pocket. “Do you know the Spanish word for bear?”

  “Oso. O-s-o,” I readily responded.

  He clicked his pen and filled in the answer. “By golly, Miss Molly, you’re right. It fits.”

  I shook my head in disbelief at how easily he’d succeeded in distracting me. “Good one, trying to make me forget that we were talking about you spying on me.” He looked baffled, but Pops was sharper than he was pretending to be. “As I was saying, I don’t know what you saw, but James is not my friend.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Why not give him a chance? I’m sure he’s a nice fellow.”

  I put it in terms he’d understand. “Let’s just say, I can’t believe they make a helmet big enough to fit his big head!”

  Pops laughed heartily. I found myself joining him. “Now you’re catching on.”

  Pops continued to ask me crossword puzzle questions while we finished lunch. I discovered I knew more trivia than I thought; I was actually enjoying myself. In no time, the puzzle was complete. I carried the plates to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher. Pops should recommend that Aunt Carol get one.

  “Thanks for lunch and for cleaning up too.” He smiled. Maybe he did need us here. “I’m going back to my chair. I have to a find a new puzzle to work on.”

  “Okay.” I had to find something to occupy my time this afternoon.

  I was about to go upstairs when he called, “Mike?”

  “Yeah?” I peeped my head into the living room.

  “Just so you know, Tyler and your new friend don’t get along.” Why was he telling me this? It seemed out of character. Pops didn’t strike me as someone who gossiped or meddled in other people’s business.

  “Okay?” I waited for him to continue.

  “Tyler likes to cause mischief for him.” He gave me a look as if to say that perhaps James could use my help. What was it with Pops and this guy?

  “I’m sure James can take care of himself. He’s a big boy,” I stated, recalling his broad frame and towering height.

  “He’s a good kid. Tyler gives him grief, and so does his own father. All I’m saying is maybe next time you could be a little nicer to him. You could invite him in.”

  “Why would I do that?” I asked incredulously.

  “I don’t know. It seems to me that both of you could use a friend.” He turned his attention to the puzzle in his hand.

  “What exactly did you
mean about his father?” I thought back to the excuse that James gave for blowing me off the other day. He said it was because he was too busy helping his dad. Was there more to it than that?

  “Nothing.” He kept his eyes down, mumbling something about number twenty-two down. I stood in front of him and grabbed his pen off the table. I tapped it against my palm.

  “Mike, don’t be difficult now. Hand me my pen.” He held out his hand.

  I placed the pen behind my ear and put my hands on my hips, “Not until you tell me exactly what you meant.”

  “I can go and get another pen.”

  “You can, but you won’t.”

  “Let’s just say that in a small town you hear things, even when you’re not listening.”

  “Like what?”

  H took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s a terrible thing that your daddy died, but at least you know that he loved you.” He folded his arms across his big chest, signaling that the conversation was over. “Now, give me that pen.” He reached up and snatched it from behind my ear, filling in another answer.

  I slowly climbed the stairs to my room. Flopping down on my bed, I replayed the conversation with Pops. I tried to make sense out if it, but I couldn’t. It was like trying to solve a crossword puzzle with only partial clues. I felt frustrated.

  Suddenly I knew how to pass the afternoon. Drawing always calmed me. When I pulled images from my mind and put them on paper it helped me make sense of the world. I stood up and began searching the room for my backpack. I finally found it hiding under a pile of Emma’s dirty clothes. I quickly filled it with art supplies, tossed in a sketchpad and a box filled with my favorite drawing pencils.

  I tore back down the stairs, anxious to get started. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in a while,” I called out as I left.

  I crossed the main road and entered the cemetery that had been beckoning me since we first arrived. In all of my visits I’d never set foot here. I walked around, examining the tombstones and running my hands over them. Some were crumbling and moss-covered. I brushed one off to see the name and date. Then I brushed off another and another. Some dated as far back as 1832. I stared across the street at my grandparents’ old farmhouse. According to the names on the graves and the close proximity to the farm, I concluded that all the people buried here were relatives.

  I sat down with my back against the giant oak tree. Pulling out my sketchpad and pencils, I sketched the tombstone in front of me. I felt the pain of having recently lost my dad. A tear rolled down my cheek and I quickly brushed it away with the back of my hand. I wasn’t usually an emotional person.

  I didn’t think while I drew. The pencil flew across the page making marks, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Often times I didn’t know what it was going to be until it was completed. The cemetery was still with only a few birds calling off in the distance from time to time. When I finished I was not at all surprised by what had taken form on my paper. It was a portrait of my dad. He was sitting behind the tombstone, using it as a desk, his laptop open in front of him. He wore a peaceful smile. I smiled, too, as another tear fell. I realized I’d dreaded moving here because I thought I’d feel so far away from my dad and the life we’d all had together in California. Now I knew that was silly. He was always with me, even here in the middle of Nowhere. It didn’t matter where we lived. My father had loved me and he lived on in my memories. I shut my notepad, feeling better than I had in months.

  Chapter Ten

  Dooner

  Practice was hell all week. Stepping under the scalding hot shower in the locker room, I washed away a full day’s worth of sweat and dirt. The week had started off bad when I let Tyler and Casey coerce me into starting a fight, and since then nothing had improved. I was still being benched for the season’s opener. I had to do something—and fast—to change that. I mulled a plan over in my mind as I lathered shampoo into my hair. I’d do whatever it took to make sure that I played in that game. I rinsed my hair and then abruptly turned off the shower. Grabbing my towel, I quickly dried off. It was time I had a talk with Tyler and Casey.

  “Tyler, we need to talk.” He was just changing out of his shoulder pads. “Tell your buddy, Casey, to join us too.”

  “Sure,” he grunted.

  “Meet me outside when you guys are done getting dressed.”

  “Sure,” he grunted a second time.

  I quickly pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It never took me more than a few minutes to get ready. I went outside to wait for them.

  A few minutes later Tyler and Casey emerged from the school. I got right down to business, “We need to stop acting like enemies. We have to put our differences aside and do what’s right for this team.” Tyler mumbled his consent. I continued my pep talk. “This is our senior year, the year we’ve been waiting for. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be on the sidelines acting as a bench warmer. I want to be playing in the game, leading the team to its fiftieth straight win.” I pounded my fist into my palm.

  “Me too,” agreed Tyler. Getting Tyler to work with me, instead of against me, was going better than I could have hoped.

  “I don’t know why you intentionally threw me that blind pass.” I looked angrily at Tyler. “And why you,” I said, shifting my gaze to glare at Casey, “slammed into me so hard, but I’m willing to put it behind me.” I swallowed to push back the bile that was threatening to rise. I hated giving in like this, but I couldn’t miss that game. “As long as you promise not to try anything like that again. We need to move on and work together.”

  “I agree,” said Tyler.

  Casey nodded.

  “I’ll pretend it never happened on one condition,” amended Tyler.

  “I’m not playing games with you, man. This is serious.” I scowled.

  “So is this. Stay away from my cousin, Mike.”

  “Mikayla...What does she have to do with anything?”

  “Just stay away from her. She’s been through a lot already and she doesn’t need a guy like you trying to get in her pants.”

  “I’m not trying to get in her pants,” I declared, outraged. I wasn’t a perfect angel, but unlike the rest of the guys on the team, I didn’t go round trying to bang every skirt I saw.

  “I mean it. Stay away from her.”

  “I can’t promise that.” I smiled as I remembered how soft she felt in my arms. I’d been biding my time this week until I could stop by and see her.

  “Then there’s no deal.” He turned to leave.

  “I don’t understand,” I called out unwilling to let Tyler leave.

  He turned back around, “What?”

  “You didn’t seem to have a problem the other night when you left it to me to make sure her and her sister got home okay.”

  Tyler shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, that was a bad decision on my part.”

  “They made it home safe, right?”

  “Yeah, they did,” he grumpily admitted.

  “Okay, then. I think worrying about whom your cousin dates is the least of your problems. Mikayla seems like she’s going to do whatever she wants regardless of what you say, anyway.” Tyler grimaced, probably recalling how he couldn’t talk her out of walking home. “Can we please get back to playing football now?” I pleaded.

  For once Tyler kept his mouth shut and looked ready to listen. Casey stood by his side.

  I filled them in on my plan. It was especially important that, going forward, Coach saw Tyler and me connecting on the field and in the locker room. As the team captains, we set the tone.

  We planned to meet every morning before practice to run drills, throwing the ball with Casey playing defense. Almost all of our opponents ran the ball; either they didn’t have a quarterback with a strong enough arm to throw down field, or they lacked a receiver who could catch it. Lucky for us, we had both. We were going to surprise everyone by perfecting our passing game. When Coach saw how serious we were, he’d change his mind about suspending us.r />
  “Monday morning at seven?” I asked, looking at them.

  “I’ll be here,” said Tyler.

  “Me too.” Casey nodded.

  There was a lightness in my step as I walked to where I’d parked Old Faithful. I quickly threw my gym bag in the back and started her up. I was in a hurry to get to where I was going before my luck changed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mike

  I’d been procrastinating since I woke up. I wasn’t dressed, even though it was after noon. I was lounging on my bed in my pajamas, my hair carelessly pulled back into a ponytail, while I sketched the view from my bedroom window. It was an aerial view of the cemetery.

  “Mike,” Pops yelled up the stairs.

  “What?” I yelled back.

  “Come on down here.”

  I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost twelve-thirty. I’d been making lunch all week and he was probably hungry. Come to think of it, I was hungry too. “Okay. I’ll be down in a sec.” I stood and stretched. I thought about getting dressed, but I didn’t really see the point. I wasn’t going anywhere and Pops couldn’t have cared less about fashion.

  “Stop your stalling and get down here. You’ve slept half the day away already.”

  “Coming,” I shouted, stomping loudly down the stairs in an attempt to annoy Pops. He hated it when I walked like an elephant. “Here I am, Pops.” I raised my right hand and saluted. “Reporting for duty.”

  He chuckled good-naturedly and I felt my heart soften. Like my dad, he actually understood and even appreciated my humor. Suddenly I felt bad for making so much noise when I came down the stairs.

  Pops kept his voice low and pointed toward the kitchen, “You have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?” Surprise filled my voice. I couldn’t imagine who it could be. Paige wouldn’t be here for a couple of weeks. She was coming to visit for my birthday. “Who is it?” I whispered.

  “So you do know how to be quiet.” He smiled, ignoring my question completely.

  I rolled my eyes. “Pops! Who’s here?” I repeated just as James came out of the kitchen. My mouth fell to the floor. He was the last person I’d expected to see. I think I would have been less shocked if my dad had walked into the room.