Stork

by Wendy Delsol

  “Should your mind be open

  And your heart be true,

  Then let the fire’s magic

  Make a match for you.”

  I stood with my mouth open, unable to believe that even someone as oily as Wade could stand there and recite anything so corny. But nobody else seemed to think twice about the lame little poem, which must, I surmised, be tradition. I decided to find Penny and walked in the direction I’d last seen her. I skirted around the fire, watching bands of girls clutching pieces of colored paper in their hands and then releasing them to the fire with rapt looks in their eyes. It couldn’t possibly work for everyone. The Asking Fire had to disappoint as much as it pleased. I stopped in my tracks, chiding myself for personifying the fire. I found Penny and Tina clutching their papers and whispering to each other.

  “Haven’t fed the fire yet?” I asked.

  “We were waiting for you,” Penny said. “I thought you might change your mind.”

  “No way.”

  “Can’t think of anyone?” Penny asked.

  “Not to save my life,” I replied.

  “Should we go ahead, then?” Tina asked Penny.

  They approached the fire. I could see them elbowing each other and could hear their giggles from where I stood behind them. They both lifted their arms high and let go of the small chits of paper. I watched as Penny’s light blue and Tina’s pink rode the currents of air into the dancing flames. Then a strange thing happened. Penny’s blue scrap blew out of the fire and landed in the dirt not far from where I stood. I bent to retrieve it. It was slightly singed, but intact. I called to Penny, but she had joined a gaggle of girls, talking and laughing and hoping for magic. As much as I didn’t believe it myself, I didn’t want Penny’s evening ruined. I walked quickly to the edge of the fire and returned the pastel blue paper to the flames, ensuring this time that the fire consumed it.

  “So you changed your mind?” Jack said. I turned to find him grinning at me.

  “It probably looks that way, but . . .”

  “So will you go with me?” He spoke quickly, as if the best approach was to get it over with fast, like a flu shot, or snapping a bone back into its socket.

  “What?”

  “Will you go to the dance with me?” Jack repeated.

  “I think there’s some misunderstanding. What about Penny?”

  Jack looked confused, but pointed to where Penny was involved in a one-on-one with Pedro. “I think she’s spoken for.”

  “What?”

  “Pedro has wanted to ask her all night, all week for that matter.”

  I looked over again at Penny, who nodded her head affirmatively at Pedro, after which he broke into a big smile.

  “So?” Jack was looking at me expectantly. Many things flashed through my mind in that instant. Why would he ask me? We’d been crash-and-burn since the moment we met. And what would Penny think? It looked like she had a date, but still, what would her reaction be? She’d liked Jack since forever, so this could really crush her. Plus, it was the sort of thing I would avoid on principle. Couples only. Guys have to ask. How Stepford!

  “I guess,” I heard myself say. Unbelievable, but true; my voice came from somewhere else. A ventriloquist’s trick.

  “Good.” The wind picked up and was gusty enough to blow the long tendrils of my hair across my face and into my eyes. I felt Jack’s warm hand brush a lock off my cheek, then a stab of cold pierced through me. I gasped as if plunged into an icy river. Something flashed across Jack’s face. He looked hurt. Or in pain. And something went hollow in his eyes. Quickly, he turned and walked away.

  What was going on? Who asks a girl out, zaps her with a cold charge, and then disappears like some caped crusader? I felt chilled to my core. Why did I say yes, when my internal dialogue had been all cons — and no pros? And what on earth was I going to say to Penny? Who was, for the record, heading my way. I think I stole your crush, but I’m not entirely sure. I think I’m going to the dance with him, but I could be wrong. There’s a fifty-fifty he played me like a trump, but I guess I need a dress, just in case. Holy cow. What would I even wear?

  “I got asked to the dance,” Penny said.

  “That’s good. Right? I mean, Pedro seems like a nice guy.”

  Penny kicked at a clump of grass with the toe of her boot. “I guess it’s OK. He is a nice guy, but I don’t understand what happened.”

  “I . . .” I was interrupted by the arrival of Tina.

  “Guess what?” Tina said. “It worked! The Asking Fire worked. Matthew asked me.”

  The Asking Fire, I remembered with a jolt. “There’s something I need to tell you, Penny. Two things, actually. Your paper, it flew out of the fire. You had already walked away, so I picked it up and put it back in for you.”

  “What?” Penny looked startled.

  “There’s more,” I said. “Jack asked me to the dance, and I kind of said yes. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You fed my paper to the fire?” Penny asked.

  “Well, yeah, but . . .”

  “So then the fire thought you asked for him.”

  “It was your writing.”

  “How would the fire know that?” Penny asked.

  I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. “How would it know me from you or anyone else for that matter? Come on, let’s get real.”

  “We told you. It’s magic.”

  I exhaled loudly. Had rational thought, like In-N-Out Burger, not yet made it this side of the Rockies? “It was just some sort of weird, awkward moment. I’m not sure he even wanted to ask me. He barely said two words to me and then took off.”

  “He probably doesn’t understand it any more than you do.”

  That was the first thing in this conversation that made any sense. “Good. Then he’ll probably take it back.”

  “You really don’t know him, do you?” Penny said. “If he’s anything, he’s true to his word.”

  It got very quiet between us. The band was starting up. My head was already on overload without the jarring drumbeat or screeching vocals. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wade leaning against the edge of a picnic table. He was all alone and watching me.

  “I’m heading home,” I said. “I have a headache.”

  Penny and Tina offered to walk with me, which I knew was just their proper upbringing speaking. They didn’t really want my company at that moment. I was a boyfriend-stealing fire hog. Heck, I didn’t want my company. I declined and started making my way toward the dirt path. I noticed Monique at the center of a group of girls. I assumed they were celebrating, or spreading rumors, or perfecting their nastiness, but as I grew closer, I noticed Monique was wiping away tears. One of her friends patted her on the back, and I overheard her say, “You’re better off without him.”

  I kept my head down and trudged onward. The drum of a woodpecker tapped steadily nearby. Its sudden catlike call startled me. Not a woodpecker, after all. A sapsucker. My amma had once taught me the difference.

  Not a moment later, I passed a clump of trees. The low-lying brush shook, I heard a scuffling of feet, and Wade stepped into my path.

  “There you are,” he said. “I’ve been watching you.”

  I looked around nervously. “What do you want?”

  “For us to start over.”

  “Not going to happen. Just leave me alone.”

  He cracked his neck from side to side with big thrusts of his Neanderthal jaw. “Aw, come on. Let’s be friends. Tell you what — I’ll even take you to the dance.”

  “Too late,” I said. “For being friends or the dance.”

  “What?” Something snapped closed in his eyes.

  “I’ve got a date. And honestly, you’d be my last choice at this point.”

  “What date?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.

  “Jack.”

  “Snjosson. That punk.” He spat it out like a bloody tooth.

  “Yes.”

  “That�
�s not a date,” he said. “That’s a curse.” With that, he brushed past me back toward the crowd. Something shrank in my gut. It did. My navel retracted. It probably wasn’t a good idea to piss Wade off. Some dogs you just don’t mess with. I shook my head as I scurried along the dark path. I heard the bird again and remembered another thing my amma had taught me — all sapsuckers in this region were yellow-bellied.

  I had just made it back to where the long gravel path met up with the parking lot when I heard Jack’s voice from behind.

  “Kat, wait up.”

  I had been so absorbed in thought that I’d been blind and deaf to my surroundings. Truth was, I’d been thinking about him. Why was everything between us so charged? Enough that it seemed to even produce a physical manifestation. I was alarmed and confused. I turned toward him, not knowing whether he was the last person I wanted to see at that moment, or the only.

  “Did you feel it back there?” he asked.

  “Feel what?” I didn’t know why I was playing stupid. He had clearly heard me gasp.

  “When I touched you back there, something happened.”

  I swallowed hard. “Like the first time.” I could barely look at him and had my eyes to the ground.

  “What did you feel?”

  I lifted my eyes to his. “Cold.”

  “Cold,” he repeated, as if it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

  “I’m sorry.” I knew nobody would want their touch described as cold, even Jack. It wasn’t exactly a compliment. “I know it doesn’t sound nice, but your hands — they’re warm enough to the touch, but they send icy shivers through my system.”

  “I want to talk to you about something,” he said. There was an urgency to his tone. The tautness in his voice, the rapidity of his blinks, the rigidity of his every muscle heightened the moment. I knew, by some primitive internal alarm, that what he was about to say was important. Just as I braced myself for impact, voices reached us from the path. They were approaching quickly. Jack scowled, shoved his fists into his jean pockets, and turned to see who was coming.

  Penny and Pedro were the first upon us. Followed quickly by Tina and Matthew. I was crushed to have our moment intruded upon. I also felt guilty. Not only had I misappropriated Penny’s offering to the Asking Fire and stolen her date, but there I was seemingly flaunting the betrayal.

  “There you guys are,” Pedro said. “We’re pulling together some plans for tomorrow. Wanted to see if you were interested.”

  “What plans?” Jack asked.

  “We’re thinking of hiking out to Fletcher Lake.”

  “Where’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s a hiking trail about an hour north of here,” Pedro answered. “It’s a little punishing, but worth the climb.”

  Punishing meant painful, and climb meant up, neither of which sounded good to me.

  “You guys should come.” Penny looked straight at me. “It’s going to be fun. We’re going to pack a lunch. And it’s a really pretty view.” I looked at her shyly, and she just kind of smiled at me. I was taken aback at just how sweet she was, and how much the clothes and hairstyle suited her.

  “We’ll make a full loop of the lake,” Pedro said. “About halfway, there’s an observation tower. Bring your camera.”

  “And it’s not too late in the season for a dip,” Matthew said. “Or should we call it a plunge. Bathing suits optional, cojones mandatory.”

  Jack emitted a small growl of displeasure in response to what Matthew had said. I didn’t know what to think about the invitation, especially given the way Jack was scowling.

  Penny sidled up next to me. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t excited for you back there,” she said in a whisper. “It wasn’t very nice. And Jack has always made it very clear with me, and plenty others, that we were just friends. And of course it makes perfect sense that you and Jack should end up together.” Penny must have realized, by the look on my face, just how little sense that made to me. After all, she, more than anyone, knew about the tension between us.

  “Perfect sense?” I said, almost under my breath.

  “You just haven’t figured it out yet,” she whispered back. “But you’ll see.”

  The only thing I could see was Jack looking at us like he wondered what all the secrecy was about. Before I could respond, Penny said to the group, “I just talked Kat into it. She says she’ll go. How about it, Jack?”

  Whatever his reservations had been before, he took a deep breath and replied, “Sounds like a plan,” though I could still sense some hesitancy on his part.

  After that we stood around for a few minutes finalizing arrangements. We’d all meet in the school parking lot at nine in the morning. From there, we’d pile into Pedro’s mom’s Suburban. I was assigned breakfast: coffee and muffins.

  I was also reminded to dress warmly and wear comfortable shoes.

  The pink sweater with the curled ribbon collar had seemed too girly, and the black zip-front one with leather piping — too formal. I yanked it off and dropped it onto the growing pile at the bottom of my closet. Sure, clothes were my thing, but even I knew I was overthinking something that would probably spend most of the day under my heavy parka. I settled on a simple hunter-green V-neck, hoping at least someone would notice it matched the paisley scarf I looped around my neck.

  “You’re up early,” my mom said, laying down her newspaper. She looked at my outfit. “What are you dressed for?”

  “A hike.”

  “A hike? Where? With who?”

  “A few kids from the bonfire last night. The girl Penny I told you about, the guy who delivered apples to the store, and a few others.”

  “The Snjosson kid?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t know you knew him.” She pulled at her bottom lip.

  “Not well.”

  She took a quick sip of her coffee. “Then are you sure this outing is a good idea?”

  Good thing I didn’t mention the dance. “Afi said something about bad blood between our families. Are we the Hatfields or the McCoys?”

  “We’re neither.” She picked the paper up and snapped it open. “And I, for one, don’t listen to gossip.”

  We had a quiet breakfast together after that. I only had a banana, knowing I was stopping for muffins and coffee. My mom ate her usual bowl of high-fiber, certified organic bark. Honestly, you could landscape with the stuff. I swear I’d seen it used. It made a decent mulch. She and Stanley had plans to look at open houses. She added quickly that he was in the market, but still, I didn’t like the idea.

  The chime above the door to the Kountry Kettle alerted Jaelle to my presence, but she didn’t flash me with one of her usual smiles. I approached the counter hesitantly. The place was busy, so I figured that was the reason for her less-than-enthusiastic greeting. I took a seat at the counter, forgoing my usual spin.

  “Good morning, Jaelle.”

  “Hey, Ice.”

  “How are you?” I asked, because her eyes looked kind of bleary, like she’d been crying.

  “Been better.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “Just a stupid fight between me and Russ. We’ll get over it.” Jaelle asked why I was dressed like I was about to scale Everest. She had heard of the lake before, but hadn’t hiked it. She was, admittedly, not the outdoorsy type.

  One of the customers signaled that he needed more coffee. Jaelle picked the pot up from behind her. I took that moment to pull my mom’s thermos out of my backpack. When Jaelle returned, I ordered a dozen muffins and asked her to fill the thermos to go. She emptied the contents of the coffeepot into the stainless steel carafe and then took a long swig from her own mug, though it appeared to be filled with tomato juice and not coffee. She started bagging the muffins, and I could tell by the way she was pitching them into the bag that she was upset and, moreover, would have made a darn good softball player.

  “What did you guys fight about?”

  “Same old stuff. About his being g
one too much. And me stuck in this dead-end job. I have a business degree, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “What am I going to do with it here?” She handed me the bag.

  I shrugged.

  “He left this morning without saying good-bye.”

  “But you guys always work it out.”

  “Except this time he thinks maybe we should postpone starting a family until we figure out a few things.”

  “I thought . . .”

  “Joke’s on him, huh?”

  “Did you take the test?”

  “No. Still too chicken.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to know?”

  Jaelle looked into the contents of her mug and then lifted it in a sort of toast. “Here’s to the great unknown.”

  “Jaelle,” I said with alarm, “what’s in that cup?”

  “Just tomato juice. Let me tell you, though, if I knew I wasn’t pregnant . . . oh, don’t listen to me. I’m a mess this morning.” She leaned against the counter on her outstretched arms. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then bounce your butt outta here. You got friends, girl, and they’re waiting on baked goods.”

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “Get going.”

  I left the restaurant with serious concerns about Jaelle — as well as the condition of the muffins tucked under my arm.

  I met everyone in the parking lot right on time. Everyone except Jack, who was late. I poured cups of coffee and handed out lopsided muffins as we stood waiting. I was surprised at the effect his tardiness had on me: a crush of nerves had my tummy twitching. I was definitely interested in the guy, but interested how?

  Pedro griped that Jack was the last person in the developed world not to have a cell phone. At a quarter after, the group came to a consensus that if he wasn’t there by nine twenty, we’d go without him. I had to admit, I was bummed. And not just because I felt like it was a reflection of his interest in me. His absence took all the excitement out of the day.

  Nine nineteen. I wondered if I’d sound desperate suggesting we give him a few more minutes. Or would I appear all the more pathetic when he still didn’t show? I was shocked at how much I wanted his old truck to pull up. Now that he’d asked me to the dance, and there was something he wanted to tell me, I was — despite everything else going on in my life right now — thinking way more about Jack than I should. Especially as it was nine twenty.