It Starts

by Avery Kirk

  Vita came walking over with two plates wrapped in foil. She handed me one.

  “This is for your grandpa. I gave you a real plate so you’d have to come see us to give it back,” she said with a wink.

  “Oh, he’ll love it. This cookbook is great. Thank you so much. For everything,” I said.

  “Don’t give it another thought, love. I hope you enjoy it! It still embarrasses me when people I know read it.” She giggled.

  She handed a wrapped dish to Kevin.

  “This is for Lanie. I didn’t put any cornbread in this one. I know she doesn’t like it. Give her my best, baby boy. Love you.”

  Kevin gave his mother a hug and kiss and hugged his dad. I got a kiss and bear hug from Vita and a much gentler hug from Mark.

  “Thanks!” Kevin and I called back after we walked out the door.

  “Y’all be careful now,” Vita said.

  “Be sure and use your bright lights on the driveway, son,” Mark called after us.

  “I will, Dad. Bye!” Kevin shouted as we got into the truck.

  Kevin and I drove away with his parents waving as they stood together on the front porch. They were lit only by the light hanging from above. Kevin turned on the truck’s dome light so they could see us waving back. We rode back to our side of town.

  Chapter 5: Dave

  Early the next Sunday, the guy next door woke me up with his lawn mower. Luckily, I didn’t remember having had any dreams. I walked downstairs and noticed that the house was empty except for a little note on the fridge stuck with an ‘I’d rather be fishing’ magnet. The note said:

  Be back by 11.

  Grandpa

  My grampa had gone to visit his friend at the rehabilitation center the way he did every Sunday morning. I opened the back door and felt a blast of cold air that stung my face. It was frigid outside. I noticed my grampa’s quilted shirt hanging on the back of the chair, so I tossed it on, crossing my arms to stay warm as I walked out to the dock on the canal.

  I stood on the dock looking out at the canal and down to the lake. The water was a green-gray and had an eerie layer of fog above it. Leaves were scattered all over the dock. A tree that sat at the edge of the canal where it opened up to the lake had let go of its first few yellow leaves, and they gently swooped into the water. As cold as it was, a few fishing boats were still out on the lake, anchored in their favorite spots.

  I tightened my crossed arms just slightly to warm up a bit more and heard a faint metallic clinking sound. As I looked around me to see what had fallen, I felt my toe kick something small. Keys. They must have been in the pocket of the quilted shirt. They were sitting on the rusted metal support under the dock boards. I squatted down quickly to try to grab them between the slats before they fell in the water.

  I heard a shuffling sound and saw Dave walking over to me. He was chubby with dark, messy hair with a pretty good amount of gray in it. He was wearing jeans that were too long on him and a Red Wings jersey. Dave was my next-door neighbor. He had Down syndrome, but I only figured that out a few years before. My grandma would just say ‘he’s touched’ when as a child I would ask her what made Dave different. His voice had a hollow sound to it, and he usually smelled like soap.

  I’d known him pretty much my whole life and the entire time the only thing that has changed about him was that his hair got grayer, and his parents got meaner. I had no idea how old Dave was, and I didn’t care.

  “Good morning, Melia,” he said to me. He never said the ‘A’.

  “Dave, please put some shoes on. It’s too cold,” I replied, a little snotty, as I knelt down, trying to snatch the keys up without knocking them into the water.

  “You didn’t say good morning back,” he stated, waiting.

  “I’m sorry. Good morning. I’m just mad and I don’t want you to be cold,” I said, still trying to smash my knuckles between the boards to reach the keys. I began looking around for something I could use to grab them since my hands seemed as though they weren’t going to work.

  “Why are you so pissed off? What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I always made myself give all the details to Dave, even when I didn’t feel like it. I wanted to be sure he’d understand. “I dropped my keys on the support that holds up the dock and I’m just trying to get them before they fall in the water,” I explained as I broke branches off a twig to try to get a V shape and scoop up the keys by the ring.

  I was trying my new twig out when I heard a big splash in the water. I looked around, trying to figure out what it was.

  “What was that?” I asked Dave. My back had been to him so I was surprised when I saw him in the freezing water in front of me. He waded over, smiled at me, and ducked under the dock—grabbing my keys for me.

  “It was me!” He laughed. “Got your keys, Melia.” He held them out in his hand for me to take.

  “Dave, get out, please get out! Aren’t you cold?” I asked, taking the keys and pulling his water-soaked arm over to the ladder.

  “No,” he said, shivering as he climbed the ladder and we walked toward the house.

  “I’ll be right back.” I announced. I bolted into the house and came out with a beach towel that I wrapped around him.

  “I made you happier, Melia. Didn’t I?” he sang playfully, and he held the towel tightly.

  I giggled. “Yes you did—and thank you. But, please go in your house and take those wet clothes off. It’s important.”

  “I will. I’m not stupid. Wanna play cards later?” he asked, looking back at me as he walked toward his door.

  “Sure” I said, still laughing.

  “What time?” he said.

  “Oh, how about at 1 o’clock. I’ll meet you at the deck,” I called.

  “OK, see you at 1 o’clock then!” he said as he jogged into the house.

  I heard his mother shouting at him after he closed the door. I rolled my eyes. Dave’s parents were very old and very mean to him. He always would just wave his hand at them if they yelled at him in front of me. Then he’d smile at me as if to say ‘they don’t bother me.’ I stared at his door for a minute to see if the shouting continued. I was prepared to knock if it did. I didn’t hear anything else for a few minutes so I went inside my own house.

  I hopped in the shower since I was meeting Kevin and Lanie for coffee at eleven. Lanie told him she wanted to see me; she said it had been too long even though we’d seen one another two months before at a barbeque. Whatever. I was slightly obsessed with the smell of coffee shops, and I liked to drink coffee—so I’d agreed.

  I was single; Kevin had Lanie. He was nuts for her. But it wasn’t the first time he was nuts for someone. He’d met Lanie through his cousin, Eddie, who I didn’t like very much. Eddie was a little too into track suits for my taste. and he was always adjusting his sleeves. He compulsively tugged them down toward his wrists. I always forgot what he was talking about because I got so distracted by his constant tugging. So, I stared at him. He probably thought I was rude, but I didn’t care at all.

  Lanie was about my height and had dirty blond hair that was pretty long. She always smelled like some type of fruit. Something about her bothered me. She just had a temporary feel to me. I kept waiting for her to tell Kevin something crazy—like she collected apple-head dolls or liked to chew firewood.

  Part of me thought that I might be irritated with her because Kevin was so over the moon for her. I felt as though I needed to keep him grounded—just in case. He was so squashy with her that I felt I should look away when they were together. He was always prying as to why I didn’t like her, and I always told him over and over again that I did. Honestly, I liked his last girlfriend better. I was sure I’d like the next one less.

  I pulled up to the coffee shop. Kevin was just inside the door, checking his phone.

  We decided to go ahead and get our coffee so we could sit down before the comfortable seats were taken.

  “I’d order for her,” Kevin said to me, “but she orders some c
razy coffees. They’re almost always off-menu.”

  “High maintenance,” I said, joking.

  “Tell me about it,” he agreed, a laugh in his voice.

  Lanie arrived about four minutes after we sat down in the living room furniture area. Kevin stood up and walked over to give her a quick kiss and hug and paid for her coffee. He came and sat back down while they composed her coffee cocktail with about 12 ingredients. She made instant friends with the barista, who had a mixture of studs and hoops up her entire ear and a hand-sized Asian symbol tattoo on her neck.

  Lanie then came to where we were and sat across from me while her fruit wind was about one-and-a-half seconds behind her. The smell was so strong it made my coffee taste different. She hugged me, and I felt as though she was marking her territory by leaving her scent on me. She immediately flung herself into her happy talk.

  “Oh oh oh oh oh!!! I almost forgot!!” She nearly fell off the sofa she shared with Kevin with this news as she beat her open hand on Kevin’s knee. I sat across from them in a cushy chair.

  “What? What?!” Kevin was smiling as he asked, only about four percent annoyed.

  Turned out, I was the victim. “Mel, I have the perfect blind date we can go on! You know, I mean, as in the four of us.” She sung the last part. Kevin and I locked eyes for a millisecond. Normally, I would expect a rescue, but he was too far gone for this girl. He gave me a half-smile as if to say, ‘You’re on your own.’

  I raised my eyebrows and stuffed my mouth with lemon loaf on purpose before replying, “DO you?”

  She went on. “OH MY GOSH, yes. I met him at that nursing conference last Tuesday. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you! Anyway, he’s planning to go into pre-med after a couple of years so if it works out, you’ll have yourself a doctor.” She sang the word doctor.

  Kevin was amused. “What’s his name?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Hunter. He’s a little taller than you, brown hair, nice glasses, incredibly cute. He sat next to me at the Positive Change presentation. He was actually a wonderful conversationalist and very funny. Oh, and he’s a vegetarian,” she said.

  Kevin and I started cracking up. Lanie complained, “What’s funny? I don’t get it.”

  “Come on. His name is Hunter and he’s a vegetarian? Don’t you find that ironic?” I said.

  “Oh. Yeah, I guess it is,” she answered. Clearly she didn’t find it funny.

  Lanie smiled slightly, a little embarrassed or annoyed. I couldn’t tell which. “Well, anyway, I have his number if you want to do it. I think it would be fun. But the real reason I wanted to talk with you is because I had a momentous idea involving you. Well, and also because I haven’t seen you in so long,” she went on, justifying her request to meet.

  “I have a patient—well, he’s not my patient, of course, but the son of a patient, who‘s a reality TV show producer. He and I got to talking as he was visiting with his elderly father. Evidently, they’re always in the market for people to be on the newest reality shows, and I thought of you! I told him all about you. Told him how you’re really pretty and a professional carpenter and everything. He was extremely interested,” she said expectantly.

  I pictured this poor guy visiting his dying father in the hospital. I was sure he would’ve found a bar of soap an interesting topic. He was probably just listening to her to be polite. She was taking care of his father, after all. Plus I loathed reality TV.

  “Oh. Well, it was nice of you to think of me. I’ll have to think about that,” I said, trying to politely discourage her from ever bringing it up again. I avoided eye contact completely.

  “Come on, Mel! I would be dying to be on a reality show!” she exclaimed.

  “I just don’t get into them, I guess. Plus every female carpenter they have on those reality shows is wearing a tank top like—always. I hate that.” I said, taking a sip of my coffee.

  “Well, that’s fine,” she said, pouting slightly. “I see him a couple times a week so if you want to ask him something or want me to get his card, let me know. I’m sure I could ask him if tank tops would be required,” she added, sounding stupid.

  “Thanks though,” I said.

  We made small talk for a while longer, mostly about Lanie’s great aunt who wanted new cabinets, and would I call her. I agreed to call and took her number, although I didn’t feel like it.

  Throughout the conversation, Lanie had moved closer to Kevin on the sofa. She were getting a little too squashy for me, so I faked a text from Murray and headed out, leaving them to play kissy-face with their coffee breath.

  I headed home, figuring I’d check to see if Dave wanted to play cards a little early.

  Chapter 6: Escape

  I was running. It was coming after me again. I was always running, but I was far too slow. I kept trying to look at my legs to figure out why I ran so slowly, but by the time I would see my feet, I forgot why I was looking at them.

  I didn’t know what I was running from this time, but I felt the overwhelming urge to stop and find out. A weaker part of me began to argue. No matter. I abruptly came to a stop. The ground was canary yellow and glittered in odd ways that indicated several light sources. The atmosphere was foggy and seemed to have an echo, but I couldn’t hear much of anything. I just knew that if I spoke, it would echo.

  Something was coming. It was coming on my left. I felt a scowl move across my face just in case it was something unpleasant. I felt better prepared. I turned to my left to face it.

  A pink convertible formed out of nothing and drove up to where I stood. I took a couple of steps back and noticed a California plate on the front of the car. A statuesque blond woman in a black and white halter top stared in my direction. She had bouffant hair tucked into a floral scarf tied beneath her chin, and she wore big sunglasses and had dark red lips.

  The woman’s expression didn’t match her car or her accessories. She was very solemn—concerned almost. She took her sunglasses off to show me her thick, ink-lined upper lash line, and I heard loud whispers from all around me. The sound was distracting. I realized her mouth was moving, but I couldn’t understand anything she said. I started to reply, “I can’t hear you,” but the woman held up her hand, as if to tell me not to talk. She seemed to understand what I had been saying and repeated herself in the same loud, echoey whisper. I noticed her scarf was now affected by a breeze that slowly became stronger. She held her hand on the knot that held the kerchief in place and didn’t divert her sincere brown eyes from mine. I was too easily distracted. I noticed a small pink glitter in the air in front of me, floating. I stared at it.

  A dream. The ground, the air with glitter. It was my tell; I knew it finally—I was dreaming. Now, I was very curious about what this woman wanted to tell me. I crawled onto the hood of the car with a great deal of effort. I peered over the windshield.

  I said clearly, “I don’t know what you’re saying.” I must have said it in actuality because I felt myself pulled hard from the dream for a moment, almost to waking. The woman immediately became frustrated. She jammed her sunglasses back on her face and threw the car in reverse. Panic welled up in me as I realized I was still on the hood. Why had I gotten up there, anyway? I decided that I was going to fly away. I moved from my knees to my feet and pushed off hard. I always flew away if I knew I was dreaming.

  Flying in my dreams wasn’t easy. It constantly struggled for altitude. I’d dip just as quickly as I’d rise. I flew around for a while in this pattern of dips and rising.

  I woke up with a start and took a minute to clear my head. I heard a gentle knock at my door.

  “You can come in, Gramps,” I said, sitting up and running my fingers through my hair.

  “You OK, hon?” he asked, opening the door. “Heard ya talking.” My grampa was standing in the hall with his coffee cup in hand. He looked cute in his faded royal-blue sweatshirt and baggy jeans. His hair was about the same length as his beard and almost entirely gray.

  “I’m OK, ju
st a weird dream. Did you have breakfast yet?” I asked him.

  “Few hours ago,” he said with a phlegmy laugh and a cough. “I’m headed down for some more coffee though. Gonna tinker in the garage for a bit. Little bit to clean up.” My grampa was in the habit of waking up at 5 a.m., no matter what day of the week it was.

  “OK, be down in a few,” I said.

  I listened to him walk down the stairs. I heard a creak on the seventh step that I was originally planning to fix, but I’d grown to like it. I looked around the room. I hadn’t changed much here since I’d moved in. My grampa had moved to the smaller room once my grandma died. He said he didn’t need all the space, but I’d bet it was for more reasons than just that. They’d had two twin-sized beds in here, and I left one of them. We brought in my full-sized bed and moved my grampa’s bed to the other room.

  The walls were a sunny, yellow color, and the room was long and narrow. It had three windows with ruffly white curtains. On one of the long walls was an old, long dresser, and on the short wall was an armoire that I’d made with my grampa. It was our first project after Grandma died. I’d tried to carve a finial at the peak, but it looked pretty terrible. We’d decided to say that it added character.

  On top of the armoire was my grandma’s jewelry box, filled with costume jewelry. She used to let me play with it when I was little. Her clip-on grape earrings were my favorite; I still had them in there.

  Between the windows were framed drawings of different types of leaves. They looked to have been green at some point but were now a faded gray.

  The long dresser was a dark wood-grain laminate with black accents and held small framed photos of my mom and dad’s wedding, my uncle and aunt’s wedding, and my grandparents’ wedding to the left of the attached mirror. To the right was a collage frame with pictures of me with my parents and my grandparents and one of me and Kevin. On the floor to the left was an old chest with extra blankets. Before I’d lived here, I would put things in there all the time because they would smell like my grandparents’ house after they came out.