It Starts

by Avery Kirk

“Hello?” I said, smiling, excitement in my voice.

  “Hi, sweetheart. It’s Vita.”

  “Oh!” I was caught completely by surprise, and then I felt relief at hearing Vita’s voice. ”Hi, Vita. How are you?”

  “Just fine, just fine. I wanted to see how you are. You were a little jumpy on Sunday, and Kevin told me you had some strange things happening lately. Just wanted to check on you is all.”

  I was quiet. I felt a flood of relief that someone wanted to hear about all this. Someone I trusted. I wanted to gush and tell her everything.

  “Mel? You still there?”

  “I’m here. Sorry. Actually, I’d love to fill you in on all my stuff if you’re volunteering,” I said with a nervous giggle in my voice.

  “Of course! Would you prefer to meet me? I’m free around lunchtime today or tomorrow after three.”

  “Today is great,” I said almost on top of her words. “I can drive to you.”

  “Oh that would be wonderful. Let’s see…it’s just after ten now. How’s about 12:30 this afternoon? We can have lunch if that works for you!”

  “That sounds great. I’ll be there at 12:30 then.”

  Chapter 7: Consultation

  I turned in down the long, gravel drive at Kevin’s parents’ house. My truck bounced me all over the place. I was concerned that when I told Vita my story, she would silently think I’d fallen off the deep end. I admired her a great deal. Not only because of the person I knew her to be, but because of Kevin explaining how she was with him. For whatever reason, I really wanted her to like me.

  This feeling—this need it seemed—was unsettling to me because I typically didn’t give much thought to a person’s opinion of me. My grandma used to tell me that was a gift. I never really understood what she meant—but I was starting to. The concern over what someone thought of you was just plain inconvenient. I can’t imagine what it would be like to care what every person thought of you. I’ve always felt that people are going to judge you no matter what. It doesn’t so much matter what the outcome of their opinion is; it’s just their opinion, and they can’t do much with it.

  As I vowed to empty my bed’s toolbox next time I drove down this driveway, I saw the house. It was the first time I’d seen it in the daylight. Seemed to be East Coast inspired, if I had to guess, but it had a touch of English cottage look to it. It was white with a grey mottled roof and it had unusual peaks and a wraparound porch. There was a balcony on one of the upstairs bedrooms. A telescope sat on the balcony. All around the porch were flowers turning brown from the fall, and red shrubs. The landscape rocks were black and shiny. An arbor had been planted near the entrance of the dark-grey, windy front walk.

  When I pulled in, a young guy was standing next to a pickup truck talking with Mark, Kevin’s dad. Mark stood there, hands in his front pockets, as kind-looking as could be, baseball cap set back on his head, nodding and smiling politely. As I pulled up to park, he took the man’s hand to shake it, placing his other hand on top. Then, he smacked the visitor’s shoulder in a friendly way before turning to me.

  “Hey, Miss Mel! This boy here’s gonna make your trip down the drive less painful—hopefully by the next time you come. He’s laying asphalt for us, paving the whole drive.”

  “Oh, OK. That sounds great,” I replied, nodding in a weird circular way that I did when I wasn’t myself.

  “Tomorrow then,” the man said and shook Mark’s hand again.

  “Bright and early. We’ll be up. No time to sleep around here,” Mark replied and laughed a belly laugh as though something was extra funny about that comment only to him.

  The man crunched gravel under his feet as he nodded to me and hopped into his old, blue pickup, making the suspension creak. It was a cool Chevy truck, a gray-blue with rust all over.

  It took two tries to turn it over and it cleared its throat. We turned to the house after a final wave, and Mark said, “She’s in the house waiting for ya. Come on.” The way he spoke was so interesting to me. Some words lingered longer than usual, and some were much quicker. He held his left arm straight out and put it behind my back, leading me into the house.

  Vita saw me through the screen door and waved me in, although she was on the phone. She continued speaking into the receiver. “Donald, I will not change it to add big words for the sake of trying to sound intelligent. It’s nonsense! I use the best word to describe my theory for clarity’s sake. These are concepts that need to be understood thoroughly. If you disagree with how it’s written based on the concepts, then let’s have that conversation. I want these people to grasp the idea of the piece and what it’s about, not what words I used to describe it. No use wasting nine more seconds of a person’s time on each sentence just to impress and annoy.”

  There was a pause. “Do you remember that student who used the word tantamount all the time? Yeah, that kid. I will not foster that kind of behavior. The concepts are doctorate level.”

  Another pause. “OK, well get through it, and let me know if you still feel the same once you’ve read it through. Thank you, Donald. Talk with you real soon. Bye now.” She turned to me.

  “Heeeey! Heard ya coming. Are you carrying silverware for a few hundred in that truck of yours?” She laughed at her own bad joke and smiled at me, then gave me a bear hug.

  “I know. It was crazy. You should’ve heard what it sounded like in the truck.” I smiled back as I returned the embrace. “I was on a job yesterday and didn’t get a chance to take my tools out.” I always tried to make it a point to pull my tools out of my truck at night and toss them in the garage, but I’d been beat the previous night, so I just put as much as I could into the truck’s box and locked it.

  Vita wore blue jeans with wide rolls at the bottom and had purple polish on her toes. She slipped on a pair of lime-green flip flops with tiny fabric flowers of all colors on the straps. Her cantaloupe-colored top was scrunched in odd places and sewn that way on purpose.

  “Well, I imagine you were very tired too. You work hard, sweet girl.” She interrupted herself. “The kid you saw giving us an estimate—he’s laying a drive for us. I can’t wait. Friend down the road—his boy’s business. He’s fallen into some hard times so we decided now was a good time to have it done. I’ll tell you what—you’d think he was paving it with liquid gold. I can’t get over the price of asphalt. Course we didn’t bargain with him. He needs the money,” she said with a gentle shrug at the end. “Seems like a real nice kid, too. Just had a baby girl.” My stomach twinged slightly. I dismissed it as a hunger pang.

  I wasn’t surprised that the work was expensive; the driveway was hundreds of feet long. It was more like a street. They lived on about 40 acres, I thought Kevin said once.

  “Anyhow. You hungry?” she asked, interrupting my thought.

  I nodded, hands tucked in my back pockets.

  “I know this little outta-the-way place if you’re up for some grill food.” She shot me a broad smile, waiting for my approval.

  “Sounds great,” I said with real enthusiasm. “I’m all about a burger right now.”

  “Perfect! I’ll drive. C’mon, love,” she said as she gave me a wave in the direction of the garage.

  “Be careful, baby,” Mark said to her, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

  “You know I will,” Vita told him.

  As we approached the garage, I saw a key rack on the outside of the door. Vita grabbed the oldest-looking key. The garage had six parking spots and the first car that we headed toward was a really old Jeep, faded yellow in color. It was very open air. No roof in sight. There was rust all around the wheel wells and it didn’t have any doors, either.

  “You OK with my Jeep? Does it bother you much? I just love it. Drive it every chance I get.”

  I smiled widely. “It’s actually really cool.”

  “Idn’t it though!” She made a humming sound. “Hop in, honey. I’m loving this Indian summer we’re having, but the guy from Channel Four says today’s the last
day it’ll be in the 80s. Gotta put that seatbelt on or you’ll fall clean out when I make a turn.”

  I tossed my bag on the floor behind my seat and slid in. The faded black vinyl seats were cracked and felt funny to sit on. Part of the seat had been repaired with black tape. The seat belt had to go between my legs and connected one on each side. I felt like a baby in a car seat but it was still cool.

  “I got a little crazy with the seatbelts. When the boys were little and they wanted to ride with me I would get nervous. I check safety ratings on cars like crazy. This one I regard more like a motorcycle in terms of safety. But at least it’s got a five-point harness so you won’t fall out!” She turned on some Bob Seger and we made our way to the restaurant.

  The restaurant was in Ann Arbor about 15 minutes east of the Banners’ house. We hopped out of the Jeep and walked to the restaurant. This city held a very eclectic crowd and Vita fit right in. I felt like maybe I didn’t. I wore dark jeans and an untucked shirt with a ruby swirl vest opened over it. Since I spent longer than usual picking out what I would wear, I thought my mother would approve.

  A life-sized bear at the front entrance hung by its feet from the gable of the restaurant at the end of some very thick metal cables. The door handles were deer antlers, and the rug in front of the doors read: Clever Cow Saloon. We walked into the grill and bar. It was floor-to-ceiling wood.

  Vita seemed to know everyone. She waved at the bartender while she spoke sweetly to the lady who sat us and who was also our waitress. Her name tag said Jill. She was insanely thin and about five feet tall with thin blond hair and a hoop nose ring. As we walked to the booth, I could smell her recent cigarette break wafting behind her.

  “Heyyyy,” Vita said—to just about everyone she saw as we walked to our booth. She would bend the word in the middle.

  “Wow, you know everyone,” I said, feeling a twinge of envy. How cool to walk into a bar and have everyone know who you are.

  “She’s a legend around here,” the waitress answered in her whiskey voice as we slid into the benches.

  “Ohhh, you are just plain crazy” Vita said with a giant smile.

  “It’s true,” Jill claimed, looking at me. “Are you one of her students?”

  “Oh. N-no.” Her question caught me off-guard. I didn’t have a college education, and it never really bothered me until right then.

  Vita was quick to speak up. “Mel here is out there giving us girls a good name. She constructs and creates, and from what I hear she’s a hell of a fantastic carpenter. It makes me proud and envious at the same time. I would love to be able to do that.”

  “Oh, it’s not that hard.” I tried to sideline her compliment.

  “Don’t shortchange yourself, love.” She looked at me seriously and leaned in to say more. “The gifts we have may come easily to us. It doesn’t make them simple though. Maybe you could show me sometime.” She finished with a wink and came out of her lean, relaxing.

  I nodded and smiled.

  The waitress continued as if we hadn’t been speaking at all. “Vita’s students come in here all the time. They’re always studying. We hear she’s tough, but they just almost all have wonderful things to say about her teaching methods. And if they don’t have nice things to say, Ray here tosses them out on their ass,” she said, laughing and pointing at the bartender with the top of her pen. He was listening and motioned with his thumb to the door and then slapped his hands together as if to dust off the imaginary riff-raff. We all laughed.

  “Can I start you off with a drink, ladies?” Jill asked, a laugh still in her voice.

  “I’ll have an iced tea, unsweetened,” I answered.

  “Two of those, honey,” Vita added.

  The waitress gave us a few more minutes to look over the menu, which was full of choices like garden burgers, beef from grass-fed cows, free range chicken. Weird for a bar.

  “I really love this place. Their menu is just marvelous. I tend to overlook their misuse of apostrophes on the menu when the people and the food are this good,” Vita said with a belly laugh. I really had no idea what she was talking about, but I was hoping there wasn’t going to be a test to have me point out the mistakes on the menu.

  I nonchalantly looked at Vita while she examined the menu. Her reddish hair was still wet on the underside and drying to a crazed wave. She had tiny braids randomly placed and held together with little yellow rubber bands. She wore a modest wedding set on her ring finger, and a thick, old-fashioned-looking diamond ring on her right hand. Her fingernails were unpolished and short, her watch substantial. Her freshly showered scent overpowered the restaurant beef smell.

  I went for the blue cheese burger and Vita chose the natural burger with a fried egg on top. We ordered some organic steak fries and broccoli to share.

  “Have I ever told you about Kevin when he was a baby?” Vita asked. I shook my head. The server set our tea in front of us. Vita picked up two sugar packets and mindlessly shook them by the end, getting ready to put the sugar in her tea.

  “Kevin was my touch baby. That boy…he stole my heart. He would just hold my face and smile. Then he’d plant his little juicy mouth on my cheek and try to suck on my face.” I must have had a puzzled expression, because she went on to explain.

  “That was just his little kiss. No matter what was upsetting him as a baby, a person’s gentle touch would simmer him right down. He was a wonderful baby. He was a terrible sleeper, but I could hardly complain. Love always seemed to flow so easily for him. It’s probably why I worry about him so much.” She stopped and smiled at me. She seemed to be thinking, so I gave her a minute.

  I noticed as she told her story, that Kevin had the same eyes as his mother. They were mostly brown, but had both gold and turtle-green streaks as well. Her irises were very detailed with tons of extra crevices.

  “Well. I’ve managed talk your ear off since I laid eyes on you today and not even ask you about this crazy stuff that’s been happening. What’s goin’ on, sugar?”

  Jill set our lunch in front of us. As we ate, I filled Vita in on the dreams and the phone call and the suspicious guy who wasn’t who he said he was. I went on to tell her that was why I acted so weird when she told me that some mail had come to her house for me, figuring it was another California nudge.

  As I heard myself describe all the situations and how they’d played out, I felt stupid for bringing her here. My biggest story so far, and the one that startled me the most, was the phone call from the travel agency—but the rest seemed to be just random coincidences, and I was probably overreacting.

  “I’m overreacting, right?” I said, no doubt sounding depressed.

  Vita looked thoughtful for a minute. “No, you’re not overreacting. I don’t believe much in coincidence, honey. I truly don’t. And you’ve never been to Albuquerque? Are you quite sure?” she asked.

  I looked at her more seriously now, tilting my head. I nodded slowly. Why would she ask me if I was sure? I decided not to dwell on it.

  “Of course,” she said, shaking her head.

  Vita sat quietly for a few minutes, nodding her head slowly as she processed what I’d told her. She rolled the corner of her napkin over and over as she thought.

  “Do you want my advice, sweetheart? Or my opinion? There’s a little bit of a difference and I just want to be certain I’m giving you what you need.” She said this calmly, her chin down as she waited for my answer.

  “I guess I’d want to know whatever it is that you want to tell me. I trust your judgment. Also Kevin mentioned that you know a psychic or something? He thought that kind of perspective might be…helpful,” I said, feeling stupid again.

  “That’s right. I didn’t even think to ask Layla to join us. Her store is right around the corner, too! I wonder if she’s open.” Vita looked at her watch. “We could…”

  Just then, her phone began to vibrate on the table. She looked at the screen. “How peculiar. It’s Layla!” she said with a big smile, and she picked
up the phone. As she realized the coincidence of it, she paused before answering. She locked eyes with me, a very serious expression on her face.

  “Layla?” she started as she looked out the restaurant window and casually waved at yet another college admirer walking by. “How are you?” There was a pause. “Just now?” Another pause, and Vita’s eyebrow crease deepened. Her eyes shot over at me. “Proof?” she continued. She swallowed hard and lowered her gaze, nodding. “It does. OK, then. Thank you. I’ll talk with you soon. Bye now.”

  I couldn’t take the suspense. “What was it?” I asked. “Is she OK?”

  Vita nodded slowly and seemed to be deciding how to respond. The waitress dropped the bill and a couple of pieces of chocolate on the edge of the table, rubbing Vita’s shoulder as she walked away.

  Vita finally spoke. “Layla’s not even at the store today. She called with a sort of message. She told me not to worry and said, ‘She’s protected.’” Her eyes were watering slightly. She took the bill quickly and rifled through her purse for some money. I didn’t even offer to pay, which I had been prepared to do earlier.

  “She meant me?” I asked, my voice sounding small.

  “Well. She didn’t say specifically. But it sure did seem like it.” Vita’s voice came out in a whisper.

  She laid the money on the table and stood up, reaching for my hand, which I robotically gave to her almost like a child. We didn’t say a word the whole way back to her house. We just listened to music. As she pulled the Jeep into the garage, she began to speak again.

  “Mel? You still want to know what I think?” she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt harness thing.

  I nodded.

  “I’m not comfortable with any real advice other than to tell you what I would do if I were you. Is that OK?”

  I nodded again.

  “You have to make the decision all on your own. But, if you know—I mean if I knew—that no creeper was going to find out about my travel plans as part of some elaborate set-up and I was getting all these signs to go…I think I’d go see what it’s all about. This isn’t something that happens to people every day. Like it or not, the experts do not have the universe solved. At all. Something bigger may be at work here—although it’s not likely—just so you’re prepared for that. Or it’s absolutely nothing, and you’ve satisfied your curiosity, and then I may start to believe in coincidence once again.” She looked at me hard when she finished.