Killing Me Softly

by Devyn Dawson

  I laugh and shake my head no. As he walks away, I notice the girl up front is eagerly waiting for him. I bet he gets that everywhere he goes. Even more so, if a girl sees his guitar or motorcycle. Is that what makes him attractive to me?

  When he gets back, he sets his coffee and a packet of gum on the table.

  “Did you go to college to become an air traffic controller? Where are you from?” I take a sip of my latte. I don’t want to drink too much or my overactive bladder will kick in and I’ll be in the bathroom all day. Nothing screams sexy like running to the bathroom every five minutes.

  “I’m from Hayesville, Oregon, population two-thousand. Give or take an airman. I joined the Air Force the day after I graduated high school. After basic training, I went to school to become an air traffic controller. I’ve taken a few online courses and hope to get my bachelors in business. Hmmm, what else? Oh, I live on base in the dorms. There’s really not too much to do on base that doesn’t involve drinking, so I play my music in coffee shops and other low-key places. Your lips are really nice,” he blurts out.

  What? “Thank you.” So are yours. I muse.

  “I hope to kiss them some time in the future. Not to take the spotlight off my incredibly boring life, but how old are you?”

  Good question, I want to know the same answer. “I’m nineteen, why, how old are you?” Please don’t be twenty-four, that’s my cut-off age, five years. Actually, that’s the cut-off age Andy gave us when we graduated high school.

  His smile lights up his face. “I’m twenty-one. Apparently, military guys like to drink themselves into a stupor on their twenty-first birthday and every weekend after. That isn’t all true, there’s a lot of people who don’t party all night but none of them work with me or live in my dorms. The guys aren’t even aware I’m a singer. I’m not sure what they think I do when I leave with my guitar. I’ll sit in my room and practice, but I don’t sing when my roommate is around.”

  “Are you too shy to sing in front of him?”

  “Not shy. Maybe I am a little. Growing up as an only child didn’t prepare me to live with another person the same age. In a way, I’m private about my personal life.”

  “Oh, I’m an only child too. I think it would be strange to suddenly have a roommate who’s picked for me and they’re totally different with different interests.”

  “There’s a lot of rumors and talking that goes on, I try to stay out of it. I do have a buddy I met at one of the coffee houses I’ve played. We get together and jam a few times a week. I’m at his house so much his wife, Tracy, is always trying to get me to meet a girl to bring over with me. His name is Don, he’s twenty-one also. They’ve been together since high school and moved to Oklahoma two years ago. Where are you from? Are you an Okie?”

  “Yeah, I was born and raised here. I’ve only lived in two houses in my life, one I lived in until I was twelve and the one I live in now. The only people I hang out with are Bethany and Sam, you met them last night.” I’m not sure why I act as though he’d forget who they were. “I don’t play an instrument, but I do sing in the shower.”

  His smile is genuine as we talk. Nothing feels forced or artificial, but I keep my guard up. I just met him, but we talk like we’ve been friends for a while.

  “Holland, if you don’t mind driving, do you want to go downtown and walk around?”

  Lord, please let this guy be for real, because I love the way he says my name. Amen. “Yeah, I don’t mind. It will be fun.” I reach in my pocket to get my keys out. I hand it to him, “If you will drive that would be cool with me. I’m always turned around when I get down there, and people drive crazy.” Car accidents scare me since Andy died in one.

  “I took my truck in this morning to get the tires rotated and the oil changed. I made the appointment a few days ago, or I would have had my truck if I knew I would have a pretty girl to drive around with.” The way he said pretty girl reminded me of the old westerns my dad’s father would watch.

  “Oh yeah? A truck guy huh? I can see that.”

  “In a good way, or bad way?”

  Mustering up all the flirting in me, I say, “Good, definitely good.”

  “Definitely. I like that.” He takes the key off the table and we walk out to my car. No one but my dad has ever driven it. Something about Tate says we’ll be safe. Regardless of how cute he is, I don’t think he’s a player. He flirts back, but I don’t think he takes dating lightly. I don’t either, but a full blown relationship will have to go on the back burner.

  He opens up the passenger door for me and closes it before walking around to the driver’s side. He adjusts the seat and the mirror after getting the okay from me. Thankfully, the drive is uneventful and he didn’t scare the crap out of me. Downtown Oklahoma City, is filled with high rises and skyscrapers, but Bricktown is where the fun is hidden. The streets are brick and the buildings are too. From what my Dad tells me, they were all vacant in the 1980’s when he was in school. The first major place to eat moved in during the nineties and soon other places took over the old buildings. Now, there’s shopping, a water canal for tours and a huge movie theater.

  Tate pulls into the first parking area that doesn’t have a “Full” sign. He pays the attendant the ten dollars and parks under a little shade tree. For May, it’s a typical Oklahoma day. We by-passed spring and went straight to summer. It’s in the nineties but there’s promise of what the weatherman calls a cold front tonight. Tomorrow’s high is only eighty-two which means tonight will bring heavy thunderstorms and probably tornado warnings. When I was four years old, a F5 tornado came through and wiped out ten thousand homes. The house my dad grew up in was destroyed in the tornado. It gives me the shivers when I remember the devastation this city went through.

  “Where to first? Would you like to walk down by the canal?” Tate’s easy going manner is infectious.

  “Sounds good to me.” We start walking on the sidewalk to the stairs that lead down to the canal. My purse is draped across my chest, it bounces on my hip with every step and my sandals make a slight slapping noise on the bottom of my foot. Tate reaches over and takes my hand in his. He’s touching me! Touching me, touching me. Like announcing to the world that we’re here as a couple. Our fingers are laced together. His hand is bigger than mine, but not so big that my fingers aren’t comfortable. All I can focus on is the skin to skin contact. He must be right under six feet tall but not by much. Is he thinking about his nerve endings in his hand? Do guys think that way?

  He squeezes my hand and I look up at him.

  “Did I lose you?” He asks.

  “Uh, no. Why? Did I zone out on you?” Of course I did. I spaced.

  “Do you want to walk across the bridge and down the steps to the canal from the other side? If not, we’ll just go down them on this side. Is everything okay?”

  I smile up at him and give his hand a squeeze back. “Let’s walk across the bridge, we can see what’s going on everywhere on the canal that way. I was lost in thought for a moment, I’m sorry.”

  He raises our hands to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand. Holy shit!

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m a musician remember? I have music running through my head constantly. There’s a candy store down here, we’ll have to stop in and see what they have. Have you been?”

  Yes, with Andy. She and I both bought so much candy and ate almost all of it within twenty-four hours. “Once, when they first opened. What’s your favorite?”

  “That’s a tough one, I like anything root beer flavored. Strange huh?”

  “Not strange, but I don’t know what comes in that flavor. What’s your favorite jelly bean?” We cross over the bridge, forgetting to stop and look out on the water.

  “That one is easy, popcorn flavored.” He tightens his grip on my hand as we go down the stairs.

  Several couples are sitting on benches up and down the canal walkway, talking, kissing, staring off into space, mostly kissing. A few ducks are waddling around people w
atching. I wonder if they think humans are annoying.

  “Popcorn flavored? I like the yellow ones. Except corn flavored, I didn’t like corn flavored jelly beans.” I feel my nose crinkle up as I think back on my unfortunate encounter.

  He laughs with me and we continue our stroll, walking, and talking about everything but nothing at all. We’re not solving world hunger or discussing life on other planets. No, we’re learning the little things about each other that make us unique. Two people whose life plan has crossed paths.

  By the time we leave the candy store, we have a bag full of thirty dollars’ worth of candy. We tested everything root beer flavored and all the yellow candy we could find that wasn’t corn flavored. His laugh comes from somewhere deep in his chest but not in a Darth Vader way.

  As for first dates that were only for coffee, this one is the best I’ve had. Except the one with Todd Baxter, that was pretty earth shattering. He was one of those romances that weren’t going to go anywhere, but hold on for the ride until it’s over. We lasted six weeks. The burn out happened by the end of the fifth week, it wasn’t a big secret that we wouldn’t last. Neither of us had hard feelings about the break-up. He’s the kind of guy you put on your resume, and he’ll let you use him as a reference when looking for another boyfriend. This first date is awesome, but he’s not the kind of guy who’ll be a burn out. He’s either the kind of guy you either have a connection to or you don’t. Tate’s not one to waste his time, I know that from the day he came in for a refund. If he’s not interested, you’ll know. With every touch of his hand, or how he casually drapes his arm across my shoulders when we fed the ducks, he reminded me that I’m alive. That’s the hardest part about death, the survivors forget they’re alive. For the first time in months, I’m not alone. Even when I’m with Bethany and Sam, they could live without me in their life. Sure, we’re friends, but we don’t know what color jelly beans we eat. Andy loved the purple ones. I hate the purple ones. That’s how it works, everyone should have someone in their life who likes things other than the ones you do, that way you have something to talk about.

  All good things must come to an end, it’s time to give Dad his medicine. I should’ve called and checked in on him today, but I didn’t want Tate to see that part of me yet. I don’t want to scare him off if I can avoid it.

  We pull up into the same parking spot next to his motorcycle. Now for the awkward goodbye. The one where he either will say he’ll call me, which is the ultimate bad sign, or he’ll ask if I want to go out again.

  “Stay there,” he says as he gets out of the car. He walks around and opens the door for me. Prom is the only time a guy opened the door for me, it was because he was a chauffeur. As I stand, he doesn’t step away, instead he stands within the V from open car door and the car itself. His left hand goes to my waist and at that moment I thought I might faint. A simple touch and I render myself smitten. His right hand is on the top of my window. I’ll never wash his fingerprints away, runs through my head. “Holland, I had a good time with you today.”

  Really? “I did too.” Lame answer!

  “Can I?”

  “Can you what?” I know all too well that he is asking me for a kiss. Right? Who does that? Certainly not a guy at a party with too much beer and cheap wine. His hand goes from my window to my face. His fingers are under my chin but his thumb suddenly strokes my bottom lip. Oh good god, how hot is that! My body screams.

  “Kiss you,” he looks at me knowingly as I nod my head yes. Tate is the master conductor of first kisses.

  He’s the master of panty dropping moments too. I can’t even find words so I nod my head yes. He smiles as he lifts my chin and his mouth comes down and meets mine. I feel my body step closer to him and his hand tightens across my back. This is the sexiest kiss, nice and slow, lip to lip and tongue to tongue. Oh yeah, he’s the master. As gently as it started, the more passionate it feels. He pulls away and tilts my chin up to look him in the eyes.

  “Holland, I’d like to see you again. Would you like to do dinner and a movie tomorrow night? Nothing too late, I have to be at work early on Monday.”

  Would I ever! “I’d like that. Text me and tell me where to meet you. What time are you thinking?”

  “I can pick you up.”

  “No, I’d rather meet you. My dad and all, you know?”

  “Of course, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Where do you live, in Oklahoma City? Is there an area that’s closer to home?”

  “Actually, I live in Del City.”

  “You’re right next to the base. I figured you lived here in Oklahoma City. Wow, that’s a long commute for work.”

  “Yeah, I like it though. Driving helps me work out the day’s events, good or bad.”

  “I do too. How about Cadiddlehopper’s at 5:30. I’ll see what time the movie is playing, do you have a preference?”

  What! He actually gives a shit what I want to see? “Nothing sappy. I think there’s a new Furious movie out.”

  “I like you more and more with every detail about you. I can’t wait to see you, thanks for spending the day with me. Text me and let me know you got home okay. See you later, Holland.” He brushes his lips against mine and whispers, “They’re ten times better in real life than they were in my mind.”

  SHIT!

  ***

  Chapter Four. Trains

  “How long are you just going to sit there? Tell me about him!” Andy says.

  We’re sitting on the bench swing on her parent’s massive wrap around porch. Andy’s parents just left to pick up some take-out, leaving us to sit and gossip. “Who? My dad?”

  She shakes her head back and forth, “No silly, that guy you went to Bricktown with the other day. Tell me, is he the one?”

  “The one? Like marry kind of one? Hell, I don’t even know if he’s Mr. Right Now. How do you know him?” I glance down at our legs. I have on shorts but she’s wearing black yoga pants with a neon yellow line down the side.

  “I saw you with him.”

  She did? “I’ve missed you.” I’m not sure why, I saw her a couple of nights ago, didn’t I?

  “Holly, don’t shut down. You get scared for people to know the burdens you carry, but sometimes we all need someone to help us when we’re weighed down. His name is Tate and he’ll help you. I really think he’s going to be good for you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about him. I’ve missed you so much. Where have you been Andy? I’ve called you but you haven’t called me back. I saw you at Burger Shack with a girl who didn’t look familiar. Are you mad at me?”

  “No, Holly, why would I be mad at you?” Andy turns sideways on the swing, tucking one leg under the other. I notice she has the Paramore t-shirt on from the concert we went to when we were fifteen.

  “You left me. Andy, you died.” I finally say the words, admitting she’s gone. I’m dreaming. This feeling, the one that fills the hole in my heart to make me complete again is going to be empty once I open my eyes. This is the part where I wake up and I’ll mourn the loss of her all over again.

  She smiles at me and pats my thigh. “Holly, don’t worry, you’re doing a great job. Your dad is a troubled soul, but you’re amazing. Tate is good for you, trust me, I know these things. When you see my mom, please hug her tight for me. She cries too much. The train is coming.”

  “You’ll always be my best friend. Please don’t leave me, I don’t want to do this thing called life without you.” The color drains away from the porch as the sound of a train’s horn gets louder and louder. “Will I see you again?”

  “I’m always with you. I’ll visit. Bye Holly-my-lollipop,” she uses the secret name she gave me when we met.

  “Bye, Dandy-Andy, I love you.”

  A big black train with a stack for the smoke to escape pulls up into the yard. Andy and I stand and I hug her, only I don’t want to let go. The hole is void of her, and I’m alone again. Gone. She’s gone.

  A sobbing sound wakes me from my fitful sleep. I
sit straight up in bed, as I glance around my room I’m reminded of my visit. That’s what I call dreams when they’re so vivid. It’s like she was really here and now I’m reminded it was only a dream.

  I take my stuffed cat that she gave me and throw it against the wall. My head drops forward and I cry into my pillow. Somehow the dreams comfort me, as though she’s really there, but then the same damn train shows up and the pain returns. I’ve had dreams about her since she died, sometimes they come every night, but lately it is only once a week or two.

  The clock reads eight. Dad should be up taking care of his garden by now. I throw on a pair of running shorts, from my days of running track in school, and grab my flip flops.

  He’s sitting on the back porch drinking a glass of iced tea. Oklahoma doesn’t care about what time of day it is, the temperature is already over ninety. “Hi Dad, are you ready for your meds?”

  “I’m not sure they’re working, I think I’m getting better on my own. I feel fine and I haven’t had a pill in over twelve hours. We should save the money and quit buying the pills.” Here he goes, now he’ll tell me a story about a guy he knows who was misdiagnosed. The bargaining part of his illness gets under my skin. Sometimes, I want to slap him silly. I’d never do that, but damn, it would be therapeutic.

  “Dad, you’re not misdiagnosed. You feel better because the pills are working. We can discuss your concerns to the doctor during your next visit.”

  “What are you doing today?” Dad runs his hand through his once pitch black hair. Now it has streaks of gray that sparkle in the morning sun.

  “I’m going to stop by and visit with Linda, she’s been asking me to come over. Afterwards, I’m going to go get a pedicure with Bethany and check the store. I have dinner plans later on,” there I said it. I take a deep breath waiting for him to go over the edge.

  “Dinner plans? With a male friend?” He doesn’t seem to mind that I have a date. Maybe this medicine is helping him more than I thought.