by Amy Harmon
* * *
Kasey asked me out of the blue one time if I had ever been in love before. We were curled up on the big couch in his parents’ living room on a Saturday evening, homemade caramel popcorn between us and a couple of cold Cokes on little coasters on the coffee table in front of us. Things were being blown up and decimated on the big television screen and all was right with the world.
I laughed lightly, surprised at his question, and instantly replied “No!” as I grabbed his hand. He’d responded in kind and let the subject drop, almost as if he had expected my answer and mentally moved on before I’d even spoken. I sat in silence for a minute, holding his hand between mine, studying his palm, tracing his lifeline, and wondering what had inspired his question.
“Why?” I asked, suddenly unable to contain my curiosity.
Kasey glanced over at me distractedly, “Why what?”
“Why did you ask me if I’d ever been in love?” I prodded.
Kasey shrugged one shoulder, turning his attention back to the screen. “I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking. You may not have noticed me until last year, but I noticed you a long time ago.”
“Huh?”
Kasey sighed and picked up the remote, pausing the movie, making the guy who was being hurled through the air pause mid-flight. He looked at me then, his eyes running over my face.
“Josie you’re beautiful, and you have been beautiful your whole life.” I warmed at the praise and found myself smiling sheepishly, embarrassed but pleased. “The nice thing about you,” he continued, “is you don’t seem to know it. When we were in junior high, my friends and I would talk about you. Some of the guys thought that you were stuck up because you were so quiet and you weren’t interested in any of us.” My eyebrows shot up, and it was Kasey’s turn to be slightly embarrassed.
“Well, you were so much more mature than everyone else, heck, you were practically from a different planet. You were nice enough, but you were really distant, kind of like you were just putting in your time, you know? A few of the guys thought maybe you had an older boyfriend or something.” Kasey searched my eyes like he was gauging the effect his words would have—maybe wondering if I would volunteer that I had, indeed, had a secret boyfriend no one knew about.
“You were taller than all of us and looked a lot older, and you were definitely smarter. I knew better though. I knew you were just really shy, not stuck up. You probably don’t remember, but in 7th grade Science you sat right next to me. You were very sweet, never snotty or full of yourself. I looked forward to that class every day. That was when I decided that someday you were gonna be my girlfriend. I’ve liked other girls, but I always had my eye on you.”
I leaned over and gently pressed my lips to his, and the conversation was suspended as he kissed me back. His mom’s voice from the kitchen brought us tumbling back to reality, and we pulled apart and resumed a safer proximity. Kasey hit play on the remote and the unfortunate victim finished his trajectory into the side of an apartment building. Kasey slung his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned against him, pulling my feet in fuzzy pink socks up underneath me.
I spent the rest of that evening in contemplation, feeling almost guilty. I was glad for the Schwarzenegger video Kasey had picked to watch; it had allowed my mind to wander as he enjoyed the destruction on screen. It had been a while since I had actively thought of Samuel. He still tiptoed through my thoughts every now and then. When the Twin Towers and the Pentagon had been hit, I wondered where he was and if he would be one of the Marines on the front lines in the war in Afghanistan. I had even watched the news coverage with his face in my mind. But I had not physically missed him, not really, not for a long time. After all, I hadn’t seen him in more than two years.
But as I sat there holding Kasey’s hand, I had to acknowledge my lie. I might love only Kasey now, but I had been in love before. I had loved Samuel. It was not a crush or infatuation. It had been love. Innocent, out of the ordinary, before its time, but….love. Time had provided perspective, and though I had never admitted it to myself, I knew it was true. The thought left me shaky.
I hadn’t ever told Kasey about Samuel. Not a single word. I wondered at my silence. I wasn’t ashamed of what had been—but there weren’t words. Some things can’t be explained or shared; they tend to lose their luster when passed around. It reminded me of the ‘pearls before swine’ scripture. A pig will never have any appreciation for a pearl, no matter how precious. He doesn’t have the experience or the capacity to comprehend its worth. My relationship with Samuel had been a glimmering pearl in my life, and even those closest to me, though certainly the furthest thing from swine, would be unable to grasp its intrinsic value. The saying “you had to be there” pretty much summed it up. Nothing could be gained by me trying to expound on the subject so I never had. Samuel was no longer a part of my life, and that night as I held hands with my future, I determined to keep him tucked away in my past.
* * *
The day of graduation, May 28, saw us lined up with our classmates, marching down the aisle and getting our diplomas. Alphabetical order put Jensen and Judd side by side, and Kasey and I threw our caps into the air together. I was in the top ten in my class; I would have been Valedictorian had I tried. I made sure I wasn’t. Graduating number three meant I wouldn’t have to say one word into the microphone, and I had no interest in giving a speech at graduation. I didn’t shed any tears as people around me, including Kasey, hugged each other and cried nostalgically. High school had never been the pinnacle for me, and I was so ready for what came next…and what came next was Kasey and me in church, in front of the whole town, saying “I do.” When I was a little girl, I had watched the musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers eight million times, and I was going to be a June bride. We had the date set, the announcements printed, and my wedding dress, the dress my mother had worn when she married my dad, hanging in my closet where I could see it as I fell asleep each night.
The after-graduation tradition was an all-night party for the seniors at a water park in Provo, about 45 minutes north of Nephi. Kasey was sociable and loved to play, so I happily went along, though water parks and all-nighters that didn’t involve books weren’t really my thing. Afterwards, the graduates would load into a school bus and head back to the high school for a big pancake breakfast served up by some of the moms. Kasey had a job stocking shelves in the early morning hours at the Nephi grocery store. He had to work that morning, so my brother Johnny was going to swing by and grab me at the high school after his night shift at the power plant ended. Kasey planned to grab a shower and a quick nap in the employee break room before his shift began.
As usual, we tried to postpone our parting to the last possible minute. It was just before 5:00 in the morning, and Kasey didn’t have to be to work until 6:30, so he decided he had plenty of time to run me home himself and still get a shower and a catnap. We called the power plant from the phone in the school office and Johnny was paged to a nearby phone.
“I don’t mind, Johnny,” Kasey had said earnestly. Johnny had laughed at him.
“I’m sure you don’t Kasey, and I know Josie doesn’t,” he said wryly, “but you two have had no sleep, it’s 5:00 in the morning, I’ll be ready to leave in forty-five minutes, and there’s no reason for you to make the extra trip.”
Kasey reassured him and I cajoled, and before long we were on our way to Levan in Kasey’s beat-up, green Ford. We liked the old car because it had a bench seat in front, and I could sit right next to him. I sat as close to him as I could while he drove. He kept his left hand on the wheel and the other hand in mine. We both smelled like chlorine from the water park, and our hair had dried in stiff ringlets. I had twisted mine up into a clip, but his flopped into his eyes, and I smoothed the curls off of his forehead as we chatted non-stop all the way to my house.
The sun was just peeking up over the eastern mountains that shadowed the sleepy town when we rolled across the gravel in front of my house. I had spen
t many a day up Pidgeon and Chicken Creek Canyons in those mountains. That year we’d had a dry, cold winter and not nearly enough snowfall, and as farmers in the West usually do, we’d spent a lot of time fasting and praying for moisture. The canyon wouldn’t see much run-off that year, which would be hard on the farms. But I was too content to worry overmuch, and that morning, with the sun behind them, those mountains just looked like home to me, all framed in pink hope with streaks of golden promise spilling over the tops. Kasey stepped out of the car and I slid out after him, closer to his door than to my own. He leaned back against the door and pulled me up against him, resting his cheek against my head. We watched the sun rise in silence. Teenagers ordinarily don’t like to get up any earlier than they have to, and we were pretty normal in that regard. We had never watched the sunrise together, so that morning was a first for us, and I remember being completely filled to the brim with contentment. There is a silent music in joy, and the music of that morning still makes my heart ache when I allow myself to a revisit it. Kasey’s muscled young arms were strong around my shoulders, and when he leaned down and rubbed his cheek against mine, his breath was sweet and smelled faintly of maple syrup.
“I love you so much, Josie Jensen,” he whispered against my cheek, and I turned in his arms and cupped his face in my hands. I felt a lump rise in my throat as I looked at him, and I felt strangely like laughing with the sweetness of it all.
“I love you too, Kasey Judd, and if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to shatter into a million pieces,” I whispered back. He leaned toward me, but I closed the distance, standing on my tiptoes and pulling him down. I tasted the lingering sweetness on his lips and breathed him in. My heart stuttered in a now familiar two-step, and we sank into each other just like the first time. Breathlessly, I had to pull myself from him, for there was a little edge to his kiss and an urgency in the way he held me to him. I thrilled at his passion, but knew Johnny wouldn’t be too far behind us, and I didn’t want to embarrass him or initiate a brotherly lecture on “being careful.”
Kasey’s chin dropped to his chest, and his eyes closed in mock agony. “UGH,” he groaned out. “Three weeks is too long! I’m going to be the one who shatters into a million pieces.” He echoed my words of a moment before.
“We’ll make it. It’s not forever.” I laughed up at him. Pulling me into his arms he kissed me again, hungry like before, and I reluctantly ended it once more, pulling away with my hands linked in his.
His lips turned down at the corners, and his eyebrows curved in his best hang-dog expression. He looked wistful as he sighed out his goodbye. I laughed again, delighted by his need for me.
“Maybe we should stay apart until the big day,” I teased him with a helpful smile.
“It seems like forever,” he said quietly as he climbed into the car.
I stepped back and watched him pull out of the gravel drive. I waved and blew silly kisses. “Call me, later!!” I shouted, and he waved his hand out his window, signaling he’d heard me. I didn’t even watch him drive away. I turned and walked into the house, suddenly eager for a shower and my feather pillow. I had no premonition, no inkling that it really would be forever. It was the last time I saw him alive.
Requiem
Kasey must have gotten drowsy on his way back into Nephi. The officers that arrived at the accident said they think he’d swerved into the wrong lane and started to go into the irrigation gully along the side of the road. He’d overcorrected, slammed on his brakes, and flipped his car. Kasey was thrown through the windshield and killed instantly. The car was facing the other direction and upside down when it came to a stop, and my brother was the first person to drive by and see Kasey’s totaled car. Johnny said he thought we were both in the car because of the way the car was facing, thinking the accident had happened on the way to our house. He said he found Kasey not too far from the car and ran around trying to find me. He couldn’t see into the upside down car because the top was completely caved in. The doors were damaged and he couldn’t get them open. He thought I was inside. Johnny didn’t have a cell phone, and there was nobody on the road at a quarter to six on a Saturday morning. Johnny says he hardly remembers jumping back in his truck and racing home. I had foregone the shower for my bed and awoke to him shouting into the phone. I stumbled down the stairs from the loft and into the kitchen. Johnny saw me and dropped the phone, causing it to swing wildly on its curling cord, and stumbled over to me.
“Josie! I thought you were with him! You’re okay! Are you okay? Kasey…his car! You’re here? How?” He was looking at me and rubbing his hands up and down my arms with tears running down his face, then holding me and pushing me away again as he tried to explain about the accident and how he thought I was with Kasey.
You know how you feel in a really scary dream? How you sometimes wake up and you’re almost paralyzed for a minute? You can’t feel your legs or your arms and you are hot and cold all at once? I remember standing there looking at my brother, his face taking turns contorting with joy at my safety and despair at my loss. The blood slowed in my veins, and my fingers went numb. Meanwhile, Kasey lay along the side of the road as the birds chirped in the blue skies of a flawless May morning. Understanding suddenly dawned.
“You left him there? You left him there?” My voice rose in an uncharacteristic shriek that clanged in my head. I turned and ran from the house, still in my swimsuit and shorts, no shoes on my feet. I was a strong runner and I ran full-out down the road, my brother yelling “Josie! Josie! Wait!” behind me. And then yelling, “Dad!...Dad!...Help me!...Dad!” as he cried for my dad, who must have been out with the horses.
I ran and felt nothing but an all-consuming rage that Johnny had been standing in our kitchen talking while Kasey was somewhere hurt. I had run about a half mile before Dad and Johnny caught up to me. They’d jumped into Old Brown, because it was out by the corral where Johnny had found my dad and the keys were in the ignition. Johnny was behind the wheel, and it was probably a good thing because if he’d tried to stop me, I would have scratched out his eyes. My dad was strong and I’d inherited my long runner’s legs from him. As Johnny slowed, my dad slid out the passenger door and matched his steps to mine. Wrapping his big arms around me, he brought me down like a rodeo calf in the tall weeds along the side of the road.
“Josie!” he’d said roughly. “Josie stop! Honey! I’ll take you to him! Stop it now! You’ll get there faster if you go in the truck!” I had been kicking and bucking, trying to cut loose of him.
As his words registered, I stopped fighting and looked up him, both of us breathing hard. My dad was one of those men with a craggy, sun-tanned, rancher’s face. Mom used to say he was her very own John Wayne. His speaking voice was loud and rough, and he rode my brothers hard growing up, but he was a big marshmallow once you got past the bark. I’d seen his eyes tear up a thousand times, and we all teased him about it. But when I looked up into his face and saw the devastation in his eyes and the tears on his cheeks, my anger became a rush of terrible fear.
“Honey, I don’t think he made it,” his voice caught as he held back a sob. “Johnny said he was gone. He came home to call the ambulance. He thought you were trapped in the car, honey.”
“No!” I started fighting in earnest, and my dad rose and pulled me up in his arms, holding me and crying and struggling to fold both of us into the truck. “I’ll take you to him…I’ll take you, honey, just hold on...”
They’d taken me to him but wouldn’t let me out of the truck. A highway patrol officer had arrived at the accident, and he’d covered Kasey up with some kind of sheet or tarp. My dad wrapped his legs and arms around me to hold me back as Johnny brought Old Brown to a stop and jumped out, running to the officer. It was one of the Carter boys, all grown up and official in his police uniform, dark glasses and all. He was five or six years older than I, but he’d grown up in Levan, too. I had known him all my life, but at that moment I couldn’t think of his name. He put his arm on Johnny
’s shaking shoulders as they walked to where Kasey was covered. He knelt and gently pulled back the sheet just a little bit and Johnny nodded in response to something he said. I caught the briefest glimpse of Kasey’s curly head. I heard Johnny say Kasey’s name, and I put my head down on my dad’s lap and wept.
* * *
After his funeral, Kasey was buried in Levan Cemetery next to his Grandpa Judd who had passed away when Kasey was ten. Kasey had loved his grandpa and would have liked that, but I secretly wished he could be buried next to my mom, that in his death I could claim him, that he could be numbered with my family, as I would now never be numbered among his. The anger I felt toward God kept me distracted from my grief for a while. I had suffered my quota already! It wasn’t fair that He should take two people from me. It was someone else’s turn. I fumed at Him. Even when I tried to pray for strength and understanding, I found myself too angry to finish, and would leave my knees in fury.
Underneath the anger there was also a question. In sorrow, I found myself asking Him, “Why was Kasey given to me, God, if you were only going to take him away?” It seemed so cruel, and the God I knew was not that God. It was the first time in my life I questioned His love for me.
The date I was supposed to marry Kasey came, and Tara came and got me, keeping me busy for the day. But when night descended, I found myself in my room fingering my mother’s wedding dress, the dress that would have become mine that very day had Kasey lived. It was simple in style, high-waisted and long sleeved. It looked very Jane Austen to me, and I had loved it all my life. My mother had stored it carefully, and it was almost as white as the day she wore it.
