by Bert Murray
Jasmine pulled at the yellow-and-white friendship bracelet on her left wrist. “He made a lot of money in real estate. He’s always barking out orders to the maid and his chauffeur. And he expects me to be grateful just because he set up a trust fund for me. And what makes things even worse, he’s a Republican.”
“You have a trust fund?”
“I never told you? I get 5 million when I turn 30.” I knew she was rich, but I never expected she had that much. “I’ll probably use it to start an abortion clinic.”
“Why would you spend your money on something like that?”
“I feel strongly that no one should tell a woman what to do with her own body. Especially men. There has to be a safe place for women to go. Plus, it would totally piss my dad off.”
She was so totally confident about herself even if her father was driving her crazy. I liked that about her. She really believed in herself.
The Doors’ Love Me Two Times was playing. Jasmine’s eyes were still puffy and red. She sat still for a moment and then turned to face the front of the boat. “I don’t want to talk about my dad anymore. Let’s go.”
Her family really got to her. She took things very hard. I had to keep that in mind. Be very supportive. I started the motor again. I hoped Jasmine would relax now and enjoy herself. That was the point of the whole day. I steered a course toward the marina on the west side of the lake, looking for a good place to anchor the boat so we could swim. We left a stream of white, foamy water behind us.
Jasmine was leaning against a yellow cushion and her long, smooth legs were stretched over the edge of the motorboat. Her toes skimmed the water. Suddenly, she sat up and swung her legs back into the boat and turned toward me.
She leaned forward and put her hand on my crotch and rubbed. In a moment, I was going to come. Or crash the boat.
“Jasmine, not now.” I pushed her hand away.
“Come on, you don’t really want me to stop.”
She was right. I wanted her to keep going. I killed the motor for the second time. We were alone in the middle of the lake.
Jasmine smiled and knelt in front of me. She steadied herself and pulled down my bathing suit.
Oh God, she was good. I tenderly put my hands around her blond hair, holding it softly.
“Oh, Jasmine!” I moaned.
The Doors’ L.A. Woman was playing on her box. The pleasure was intense. The boat gently swayed back and forth, making small ripples in the water.
8.
JASMINE TURNED TO face the front of the boat. I started the motor and set our course for an island in the middle of the lake. She yelled over her shoulder. “Gun it!”
“Are you sure? We’re going pretty fast already.”
Just like her music, the Doors, Jasmine was unpredictable. She was exciting.
She shouted. “Come on, Colin!”
I got into her mood and shifted the boat to full speed. The front of the boat tilted into the air and we surged forward.
Jasmine raised her arms in the air and threw her head back, letting the wind streak across her face. “Yes! This is the Crystal Ship!”
I looked back and saw the stream of white foam behind us becoming larger and larger. Suddenly there was a loud boom, and Jasmine and I were thrown forward and almost knocked out of the boat. It felt as if we’d struck a rock. We stopped moving.
“Nice job, stud.” She frowned.
“Wait, you’re the one who told me to go faster.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t the one steering.”
I pushed the motor’s lever downward so that the blades lifted out of the water and discovered a mass of brown weeds wrapped tightly around them. I unraveled as many weeds as I could.
The plant life had turned the water around us from blue to green. I turned the motor over a few times, but it was no use. We didn’t have the juice to get out of the weeds.
We stared at a small island about a thousand feet in front of us. I dropped the anchor to make sure the boat wouldn’t drift away. Jasmine dived into the water.
I hesitated for a second and then followed her in. The water was cold, but it felt good on such a sultry day. I looked around me. Green water and blue sky everywhere.
Jasmine was swimming toward the island. I caught up to her. The water became too shallow to swim in, so we stood up and waded the rest of the way. We walked on the island’s pebble beach and looked around. Two monarch butterflies flew past us and landed on a small red maple tree. Long, white wildflowers were growing between rocks that were covered by a thick rug of green moss.
We sat down by the water’s edge and started throwing stones. I tossed a smooth black one. The only noise was the soft lapping of water against the pebbles and our toes.
“It feels like we’re in another world,” said Jasmine.
“That’s why I brought you here. We needed a break from reality.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to hold them back. “Ugh, I can’t stop thinking about what Dad has done to Mom.” She was agitated again, all stiff and tense. Not easy to keep up with her.
I ran my hand through her hair. “Don’t focus on him.” Her father was a real asshole. I wished I could knock him out of her mind. I wanted her to think about me again.
“I hate him!” Jasmine grabbed a handful of stones and threw them all at once.
I stared at the rings that the rocks made in the water. I sympathized with her. My father was difficult, too. He loved me as long as I listened to him and did things his way. But I had to follow his instructions exactly. It was his way or the highway. Sometimes he made me feel like a black sheep. Back in high school Dad was always ragging on me.
“It’s getting late. We better try to start the motor.” Jasmine stood up.
“Wait, just look at the sunset. That’s why they call it Sunset Lake. It takes your breath away, it’s so dazzling.” I pointed at the intense orange and red glow. “Sorry if I’m talking too granola crunchy for you.”
“No. I like that you’re into nature and you’re sensitive to beauty around you. I think that’s cool. It’s very Zen.”
“I keep hearing the Beatles’ Michelle in my head today. It’s a good sign. I only play that song when I’m in a really good mood.”
Jasmine smiled. “You mean the one with the French words in it?”
“Yeah.” She seemed to be relaxing now. Good. I was relieved.
“I have to admit that’s a very pretty love song. When did you first become such a Beatles fan anyway?”
“In Mr. Curran’s third-grade class at the Town School. He was an ex-hippie who was famous for baking the largest chocolate chip cookie the school had ever seen. He had hair down to his shoulders. We had to sit in a circle and hold hands while we listened to Yellow Submarine.”
“Cool. He sounds like my kind of teacher. But maybe you’re too far into the Beatles. I like them, too, but in the end it’s just music.”
How far is too far? When you love a band so much that its songs fill the empty spaces inside your head and heart, is that too far? A band could become more important than your family or your friends. John, Paul, George and Ringo spoke to me. Jasmine would see when she’d been with me a little longer. She’d understand me completely. I had to give her time.
“They’re called the Fab Four for a reason,” I said.
She shook her head. “Jesus, Colin, you’re too much. But it’s okay. You can have your Beatles obsession. I like funky people because they don’t bore me.”
I stood and brushed some small pebbles and mud off of my bathing suit. Jasmine put her arm around my waist.
I kissed her behind her neck. “I know it’s way too early to say this. But I’m going to anyway. I love you.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t really know me yet”.
“But I want to.”
She tugged on her bracelet. “Once you know all my problems, you might think I’m crazy.”
I’d take her. Craziness and all. “Everyone has baggage. Some h
ave a backpack. With you it’s a U-Haul.”
Jasmine laughed. She had an incredible smile. I gave her a hug and kissed her on the top of her head. “Let’s go, baby.”
She pulled away from me. “Don’t ever call me that.”
“What?”
She shot me a dirty look. “Baby.”
I was surprised. “Why not?”
“I can’t stand it. It’s so…sugary.”
I held her hand in mine. “Sorry. But Jasmine. I really mean the things I say.”
We started making out and her lips were like butter. Soft kisses. The best kind.
She carried me away with her magic. I’d never want anyone else. I was sure of it.
We swam back to the boat and cleared the brown weeds from the blades. After three unsuccessful attempts, I finally got the engine started. We headed back to the shore. From now on, every day would be better than the one before. Jasmine was mine.
9.
FOR THREE WEEKS, Jasmine and I had been spending every minute we could together. But this Saturday night was girls night out. She went off with her friend Cynthia to do Jaeger shots. I wasn’t happy about that, but Jasmine wouldn’t change her mind. I decided to check out Big Ty’s frat party at Delta Upsilon with Karl.
Karl and I had to wait outside the house for 20 minutes. Finally, we got in and entered the cavernous wood-paneled living room packed with at least a hundred students and 10 kegs. The floor was sticky from beer, and Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love was deafening. To our left, an attractive brunette and a guy with a large beer belly were making out on a dilapidated brown couch. They were groping each other like they hadn’t had sex in a year.
“You and Jasmine still doing good?” asked Karl.
“Everything’s cool.” As usual, Karl was curious. Actually, I was more worried about making things work with Jasmine than I wanted Karl to know.
Karl smirked. “Perfect sunshine. No one ever had it so right, eh?”
“Except, she’s got these crazy mood swings. One minute she’s crying, then the next minute she’s happy.” The words just fell out of my mouth. I didn’t mean to say them to Karl.
“Chicks, you can’t live with ’em, you can’t live without ’em,” said Karl.
“Hell, they’ll let anyone into this party!” someone shouted in a booming voice. I turned and saw Big Ty. He had a face like Bob Marley and a body like Mr. T.
“Dude, we were outside for 30 minutes! I thought you had some pull around here,” Karl said, elbowing Big Ty. Big Ty just smiled.
“So what’s up?” I asked.
Big Ty playfully slapped me in the back. “Everything’s good with me, Prep.” Big Ty started calling me “Prep” freshman year when he saw pictures of my folks and me at my high school graduation at Dalton. Just from the pictures Big Ty could tell I had gone to one of those “rich, elite NYC private schools” and not to a public high school like the one he’d attended down South.
“How’s your grandma doing?” I asked.
“I have my hands full with Nana again. But at least she found a new doctor she seems to like.”
Big Ty’s grandmother brought him up in North Carolina after his mother died. She was all the family he ever had. He’d never met his father.
“So her blood pressure’s back to normal?” I asked.
“Yeah, but only because she’s taking medication. She’d be fine if she’d just keep her weight down. But nothing can keep Nana away from her cheesecake,” Big Ty said, smiling. “Anyway, I know how to keep my mind off Nana’s problems. I’m staying single, seeing double and sleeping triple!”
“Amen.” Karl nodded.
Our conversation was interrupted when a cute girl with black hair walked over to us.
“Hi, Karl,” the girl said in a Georgia accent. She twirled one of her long curls around her finger. She didn’t even acknowledge Big Ty or me.
“Oh, hey …”
“Don’t you remember who I am?”
It was obvious he had no idea what the girl’s name was. Typical for Karl. He mumbled under his breath. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Did you forget my name already? I’m Tiffany. So, what’ve you been up to? I thought we were gonna go out last week.”
Big Ty nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. I looked at him, and he rolled his eyes in Karl’s direction. I smiled, knowing that Big Ty was as amazed as I was by Karl’s nonchalant attitude toward attractive girls.
“Oh, yeah. Well, you know how it is,” said Karl. “Between classes and football practice, my schedule has been packed.”
“Oh, I understand. Well, maybe we can get together this week then.”
“Definitely. I’ll call you.”
“Do you still have my number? I can write it down for you,” she said in a slow drawl, looking around for something to write on.
“Don’t worry about it. I got it.”
Karl was dealing with Tiffany the same arrogant way he dealt with all girls. I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t act that way if I tried.
“OK, well, call me. Any time. I’m around,” she said.
“OK,” Karl said without any enthusiasm.
“Well, uh, I guess I’ll see y’all later,” she said, disappointed.
You could tell she didn’t want to leave. I felt badly for her. She seemed so naive. I watched Tiffany go back to her friends and say something to them. Two of the girls turned and looked at Karl.
“Freshmen,” Karl said, shaking his head. “They’re so clingy.”
“Where’d you pick that one up?” Big Ty asked.
“After the game last week. The guys and I were celebrating our win at the pub and she was there. A total jersey-chaser. She was all over me.”
“So why didn’t you want to call her?” I asked.
“No chemistry at all.”
“I don’t know. I think she’s pretty cute,” said Big Ty. “But she’s not as cute as that blond that Colin is running around with these days.”
For the first time, Karl had a reason to be jealous of me.
“Colin got lucky this time. But how long is it going to last? It seems like the honeymoon is over already. Right, Colin?” He snickered.
“Wait a minute.” Karl could be infuriating. “All I was saying was that her mood swings are tough to deal with.”
Big Ty laughed. “How long have you known her? A week? Not good, man. Too soon. Yeah, the girl’s foxy, but it’s way too early for the crazy to come out.”
He seemed to be speaking from experience. I made a mental note to ask him more when Karl wasn’t around. Big Ty left to check how things were going upstairs, where there was another large room for people to party in.
I scanned the dance floor and a girl with long brown hair and a red dress caught my eye. You couldn’t miss her. She was tall. Maybe five-nine. Her dress was short, showing off her long legs. She had curves wherever you looked.
Karl noticed her, too. “Red Dress is damn fine! You should go for it,” he said.
“Not me. Are you crazy? I can’t.”
“Why not? Don’t tell me it’s because of Jasmine.”
Karl was pissing me off. “Why don’t you go up to her yourself. If you like her that much? You know I’m already taken.” Karl was as pushy as my father. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Come on, don’t be stupid. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. You’re just getting started with Jasmine and she didn’t come with you tonight. Did she? At the very least you should meet this chick. You’re not married yet. Just go.” Karl stared across the room. “Besides, I see a little hottie who seems like she could use a fresh drink.”
Karl went over to the bar and grabbed a cup of beer. He walked over to a blond and handed her the drink. I waited to see if she would buy Karl’s act. She did, of course. They all did. She began laughing between sips. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
I stood there thinking. Was I going to stand around alone all night? Jasmine could have come with me if she wanted
to. Maybe Karl was right. It couldn’t hurt to say hello. What harm could it do?
I walked over to the girl in the red dress. She was Liz. The Stones’ Satisfaction was blasting through the room and Jagger’s voice was so loud that it pulsated through my chest. Liz yelled into my ear that she felt like dancing.
The beer had done its work. I grabbed Liz’s hand and spun her around. She almost lost her balance on the slippery floor. I pulled her toward me.
“You’re cute.” She draped her arms around my neck. It was weird. Even though I knew I loved Jasmine, Liz turned me on.
“You’re pretty cute yourself,” I whispered in her ear and she smiled at me.
I saw Karl leading his girl by the hand into the frat’s library. Liz leaned her head on my shoulder, and we swayed to the beat. Suddenly Liz jerked her head up.
“Oh shit,” she said. “It’s Steve.”
“Who’s Steve?”
“Jesus, he looks pissed. He’s coming over here.” She pulled away from me.
I asked again, “Who’s Steve?”
10.
TURNING AROUND I saw a beefy meathead with straight black hair tucked behind his ears heading toward me. He wore a silver chain and a black Van Halen T-shirt ripped at the sleeves to show off his bulging biceps.
“He hates it when I dance with other guys,” Liz said matter-of-factly.
Steve grabbed a cup of beer from a random guy and threw the contents in my face. It stung my eyes. For a few seconds I couldn’t see anything. I wiped my eyes and face with the back of my arm. Damn! What a fucking disaster. Steve looked like he was about to beat the shit out of me.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, smartass?” Steve shoved me in the chest with both hands.
I remembered a day in fifth grade at the Town School. It was during recess, and Bob, the class bully, was out for my blood. He started calling me a loser. He was a lot bigger than me. Bob began shoving me against the fence. I tried to push him back. But he kept shoving me. I walked over to where our teacher, Mr. Wilson, was standing. I asked Mr. Wilson a question, hoping Bob would stay away. I had to keep talking to Mr. Wilson so that Bob would get tired of waiting and go after someone else.
