by Mari Arden
When the truck dropped the four of us off, I waved to the two older men, wishing them a good day in Spanish. They looked fragile and gaunt; too delicate to be doing the work I knew would occur today. Turning to her, I noted that she looks a little healthier. There's even a slight blush to her cheeks that make her look more her age. She walked to a large tree. She pointed to the "X" she'd marked there.
"We meet here at 7:45 pm exactly," she told me. She explained what would happen, where I would go, what my job was. She walked me to my station. It was eerily quiet as we continue toward a makeshift path. I saw no one. There weren't even birds.
When we get to our site, she showed me how to cut the yellowing leaves, and where to lay them out in the sun to dry. She demonstrated how to cut the leaf near the buds, and where to put them. Through it all, I tried not to stare at what she held in her hands. The plant didn't look familiar.
"What is it?" I finally asked when she stopped talking.
"Does it matter?" she asked, looking tired. "Does it ever matter?" I shake my head in answer. No, it doesn't matter. It never will. Watching her, I know what she valued, what mattered to her. Not school, not when she dropped out after the eighth grade. Not men, since I've never seen her with one since I came to live with her. Not make-up and other feminine things that some women might like. Me? Certainly, I mattered to her. Because she loved me, I decide the only thing that mattered to her was survival.
"You are here to work, Jules," she scolded in a low timber that used to help fight my nightmares during sleep. "Not to ask questions."
Her words confirmed my thoughts, and strangely, I felt better. She wasn't a puzzle to me. I knew her like the palm of my hand. I nod with enthusiasm to show I understood.
"What time will you meet me at our pick up spot?" she asked.
"7:45 pm exactly," I answered.
"Good. Don't be late."
"I won't," I assured her as she turned around to make her own ascent to a place she doesn't tell me. I watch her retreating back, and observe how her back seems heavier, and her strides slower. Her dark hair is laced with gray, and her skin is leathery and tough. Suddenly I wondered what she looked like when she was fourteen like me. I wondered if she watched her mother the way I watched her. I wondered if she was beautiful.
I watched the woods swallow her. I watched the shadows welcome her. I watched the yellow fade away until all light disappeared, sucked into a vertical black hole. Dead silence descended after she left. If I hadn't seen her with my own eyes, I would've thought no one had been there at all.
I'm jerked out of my memories when my right foot sinks into mud. Slowly, I pull it out, trying not to disturb whatever might be living there. I move back, clutching at the hard trunk to my back. Breathing hard, I know my initial thought had been right. This place is a hole. Shadows play with my vision. Darkness lures me. Is this what she saw every time she came here? I shudder. Yet she continued to come. She is stronger than me, I think.
I continue moving forward, too stubborn to turn back. Suddenly, I see something glint. It's the barest hint of light, but I catch it. A sliver of hope. Moving toward my right, I attempt to find it. I bend down on all fours, slowly crawling along a ground filled with insects and possible poison ivy. I should be scared, but I'm more scared of not finding her than of anything else.
The ground is hard and soft at the same time. My hands find leaves, stems, barks, and twigs. I feel something furry and soft buzz near me, but I don't swat it away. The slight sound is my savior in the silence. I let it take what it wants from me in exchange.
Abruptly, I feel something hard; something that feels like metal. My fingers curl around it; relief wants to consume me, but I hold it at bay as I peer at what I've found. Leaning so my nose almost touches it, I make out what it is. Dog tags. I feel the bumpy nobs of the necklace they're on. My heart starts beating faster. My grandfather gave her these. If there was more light, I might see his name engraved here: Matthew Adams. He'd tried to scratch her name beneath his: Glen Hendricks. She had given mom her last name, and mom had done the same for me. We are the Hendricks women. I almost cry when I feel the scratch marks. She's here, I think. Somewhere.
I continue to move slowly, my heart almost jumping out of my chest. Images swirl in my mind of what could have happened. I've accepted that something bad had happened; it's the only reason she wouldn't have made it by 7:45. She-
I freeze.
A gun shot.
Birds cry. My whole body starts shaking, quivering violently. No, no, no…
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. Thick leaves are ahead, stagnant like a wall. I see a flash of something. A face. It's only a glimpse, but I know it'll be burned in my head forever.
"That's how it's done boys," the low masculine voice says in a flat tone. "Next time, be more alert, and pay attention to your surroundings." Someone responds in Spanish, and soon a conversation is in full swing. If I try hard enough I might be able to make out a few words, but I'm completely numb with shock, too frozen to do anything other than stay perfectly still.
My survival instincts are kicking in. Even though I know in my heart she's here, my body's refusing to move, trying to preserve itself against danger. I don't know how long I stay like that. I don't know how long the emptiness covers my mind, making me completely numb to my surroundings, but eventually I start to hear again. A rustle of leaves. The faint flutter of bird wings. Then… silence.
The silence is what jerks me into motion. It's a signal that the danger has passed- for now. Suddenly I push forward with abandon. It felt like I was suspended in air, and now I'm abruptly free. I rush forward, my cheeks numb to the scratches I gain as I push my way through. Suddenly, I see it- a flash of yellow. I can't hold back. I cry out. The sound is loud enough to echo.
I stumble over, my vision blurred by tears. Her shirt is dirty, so much so that only slivers of yellow show through. She's on her stomach. For a moment, it looks as if she's sleeping. For a second, I want to believe it, but the sounds of gunshots reverberate in my head like a bell. My hand reaches out to touch her. Cold. The thought snakes into my mind like a punch to the gut.
"Grandma," I whisper to her, my voice wavering. "Wake up". I think I hear a moan. Encouraged, I take her hand and try to rub warmth into it. I look down toward her feet, and see that her pants are torn. Her feet are bare, and there is blood on and around her. No, no, no, no…
I stare at her dark unmoving form. "Grandma…" My whisper sounds like a denial. My mind is numb. For a second, I feel like I've left my body and I'm looking down from above as if I'm an owl in the night. I see everything in slow motion. I see my fingers lift, trembling as I touch her arm, preparing to turn her over. I see my hand grip her, trying to find some heat inside. I watch as I slowly turn her toward me. I see the expression on my face when I finally look at her.
That's the last thing I see before I hear the screams.
CHAPTER 14
I can't look him in the eye.
How could I have been so wrong about a person? I thought he'd had everything. I thought he was living the fairy tale life. He looked like he was living the fairy tale life. I should've looked deeper.
I should've gone on that date with him.
It's too late now, I tell myself irritably. He's not going to want to go out with me now after what I'd done. Who would? I certainly wouldn't.
"You okay?" Alex asks as I walk past him. "You look pissed as hell."
I'm startled he notices. I try to shake my annoyance. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just handed them the food," I explain, turning my back toward table nine. I can't look at his perfect face and see his perfect smile; not now when I know his life isn't perfect. "How are your tables?" I ask Alex, trying to sound normal. What I really want to do is cover my head and take a couple deep breaths.
"Okay." He grins. "Table two was trying to hit on me though."
I shoot him a glance over my shoulder. "The whole table?"
He tries not to look smug. "Yep." He sta
nds by me, leaning beside the counter. The muscles along his arms flex as he crosses his hands over his chest.
"It must be your man boobs," I say, nodding toward the pectorals peeking out of his thin cotton shirt.
"Must be," he agrees, not sounding the least embarrassed.
I look down at myself and then at the other girls in the black and white Maddie's uniforms. "Alex," I begin seriously. "Am I the ugliest person here?" I wave, gesturing to a group of other workers near by.
He looks serious as he thinks. He doesn't answer right away. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess," he finally says. I should be happy he didn't answer "yes", but somehow, I still feel a little insulted.
"Why did Anna hire me?" I wonder out loud.
Alex bends closer to me, studying my face. His eyes are analytical, but I still feel embarrassed anyway. He holds my chin in his hands and angles my face toward the light. "You're interesting," he says after a few moments.
Interesting? Pax had called me that. "What's so interesting about me?" What's so interesting about me that the most gorgeous and popular man on campus would go out of his way to try to get a date?
"Hmm… I'm not sure." He looks puzzled. "Your eyes are a decent shade of gray, your nose is a little too small, your mouth is normal looking, and you've got some cheekbones sticking out…" He touches my face again. "Ordinary features," he murmers to himself. I open my mouth in shock at his blunt honesty. Ordinary features? I decide he and Nat should never meet. Together they'd shred my self-esteem into nothing.
"Don't stop," I say, a little sarcastic as Alex continues to stare at me. "You've just gotten started."
His lips curve into what I think is a smile. "So many ordinary features yet when they come together, they make something quite extraordinary." His eyes stare into mine. "That's what makes you interesting, Jules."
I wasn't expecting that. I blink a few times as I let his words sink in. He's got a little smirk on his face like he knows he's said the right thing. After a lengthy silence, I say, "You probably get a lot of tips."
"Damn right I do."
I roll my eyes, trying not to smile. "Go flirt with table two. They're probably still ogling you."
"Don't mind if I do." He turns more serious when he says, "Let me know if you need anything. Remember to check back often on table nine."
My eyebrows gather together. I feel a familiar prickling of annoyance as Pax's face flashes in my mind. "Yeah," I mutter.
"In fact, why don't you do a check up on each of your tables right now?"
Yes, Mr. Anna. "Okay."
"I'll be-"
"Casually strolling around, letting everyone ogle my manly goods if I need you," I interrupt, finishing his sentence for him.
He pats me on the back. "You got it, newbie."
I watch him saunter away, observing how the customers stop and admire him. My eyes stroll to the other workers, and I notice the same thing. Every Maddie's worker is dressed in black and white so we stand out among the crowd. I see Courtney bending down, flashing her ample cleavage. I see a slim Asian girl laugh at something table four says, and the men there practically lap up her laughter like it's cold Kool-Aid on a hot day. My eyes go across the room and I spot Alaina. Instantly, my stomach drops. Why can't I get a break? I already feel like crap about the way I treated Pax; I don't need her to heap more on me.
I barely muster a smile as I check on each table. Table eight sends back their pasta. Too brittle, one customer complained. So I take it through the kitchen and ask them to remake it. Table eleven needs refills. Soon, every table on my list is taken care of- except nine. I have lead feet as I force myself over to nine. Pax sees me right away and leans back, his one dimpled smile appearing like magic.
"That was a really good choice, Jules," he calls out to me. "That pasta hit the spot." How can his eyes still twinkle when he's lost the two most important people to him?
Why isn't he dark like me?
"I'm glad," I reply, a little stiffly. "How are the rest of your dishes?" I ask, relieved to look away from Pax.
"Maddie's never disappoints," Coach barks, clapping Cade on the back. "Tell your folks this place is still the best in town."
"Yes sir," Cade replies. "They'll be happy to hear that."
Abruptly, it makes sense now why they're seated at table nine. Cade's family owns Maddie's. That's probably why Cade and Pax seem so close. They must have grown up together before… before… Even in my mind I can't say the word. I'm not afraid of it. I've seen so much of it, but for some reason I feel dry inside like I'll crack at any moment if I think about Pax's parents. Thinking about that will make me think about Grandma. I'd survived that long ago; I don't want to relive it again.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts when the two suits start to get up.
"You are one convincing young man," the older one tells Pax, reaching to shake his hand. "No one's ever been able to get so much out of me before." Instead of sounding irritated, he sounds impressed, jovial even.
Pax laughs. It's such a rich sound now that I know more about him. "Thank you, sir. The children, patients and I thank you for your generosity."
"No, thank you for making me feel confident that when I leave this earth there will be people like you around to make sure we still treat each other right."
"Thank you for the compliment, sir." Even formal, Pax seems at ease.
Cade signals me closer. "This is all on the house."
I nod, stepping back to make room for them all to leave. I want to breathe a sigh of relief. I don't turn back to watch them leave as their bodies move past me. Instead, I start piling dishes one on top of another.
"Hey." He's so close I jump. Pax's green eyes stare down into mine. "Hi Jules."
Instantly, my heart starts pounding. His voice is husky, sensual and nothing like the voice he had used moments earlier. He sounds like a lover.
"Pax," I squeak. I sound like a mouse.
"We didn't work you too hard did we?"
I shake my head. "No."
"I used to help out here when I was younger," he tells me, leaning against the table so I can't continue my work. I'm forced to look at him. "I know the hustle and grind. It can be a lot of work."
"Yeah." My eyes trace the muscles on his arm that two layers of cotton can't hide. I believe he used to work here all right. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the two guys from table two leave. Alex starts cleaning the empty table, a smile flirting around his mouth.
"Do you like it so far here? Everyone treating you all right? Anna being nice to you?"
I blink several times at him. There's genuine concern in his eyes, and it makes me uncomfortable especially after what I did.
"Yes, everything is good."
"Let me know if it isn't. I know people who know people."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Really. And what can these… people do?"
He leans in closer. "Anything you want, baby."
I hate what he does. I hate how he can make me want to smile without even saying anything funny. Charisma. I hate it.
I purse my lips together so the smile doesn't break free. "I think I'll be fine." I'm tougher than these girls. "I've got thick skin."
He cocks his head a little, puzzled by something. "I believe you," he says slowly. "You're so small and delicate, but I know you're right. There's steel inside you."
I shudder a little from his words. "Grandma always said in order to survive we had to be steel inside. Ice can melt. It can break, but steel can't." I don't know why I told him that. I never talk about Grandma. Not even to Braidon. I glare at Pax.
"My steel girl," he says softly. Somehow his lips have moved closer to me. Somehow his whole face is inches from mine. Instantly I feel guilt gnaw at my insides.
"I'm sorry," I blurt out. It sounds abrupt. His eyes don't waver from mine. "About last night," I explain. "I left without a word. It was rude and I'm sorry."
His gaze refuses to let mine go. "It happens." No, it doesn't, I want to
scream. Why are you so understanding? You should be angry and offended. You shouldn't even want to look at me.
I shake my head. "It's not okay. The least I could've done was to let you know. I-I just started to feel a little overwhelmed." I take a deep breath. "My boyfriend and I just recently broke up before I moved here," I confess. "It wasn't… the best relationship and I'm just trying…" to survive on my own. I don't say the words aloud. I'm horrified I even told him this much.
The green fire in his eyes is a blaze that almost sucks me in. "I just got out of a relationship six months ago," he tells me quietly. "I didn't think I would find someone that I'd want to get to know so soon, but you rolled down that hill and something inside me started moving again. A lot of me started moving again, actually."
The sexual innuendo makes my face heat up. Pax does it so effortlessly. His grin is a smirk and a tease all at once, and I have to glance away before I do something stupid like kiss him.
"Do you know what I've realized, Jules? We only have one life. We can't control what the universe decides to throw at us, but we can control how we react to it. We control the choices we make, and the people we choose to surround ourselves with." His voice is a seduction and I lean in closer. "One, Jules. One life. One chance. Why not make it count? Why not do more than you think you can? Why not take a risk?" I watch his lips form the words.
"I want to take you out on that date, Jules," he continues in a low voice. "I like you, and I have a feeling if you give me a chance you might like me too." The last part is laced with a cockiness he can't hide. He's confident; he knows his worth.
"Do you always get what you want?" I counter.
"Not always. But I'm a patient man."
"You're very stubborn. It's like you have rocks in your head," I try to stall.
"My head's as hard as my body."
"Probably because that body of yours is made out of cement," I retort.
"I thought girls like a man hard."
I suck in a breath. "Not all," I manage to reply.
"Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Like a man hard?"
