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Edge of Something More

Page 14

by Andi Loveall


  It was a lot more fun in this grown-up fort, where they could be as loud and wild as they wanted. They ran across the room and did flips onto the mattress. They fought with the pillows and piled up the blankets, burrowing into the safe, warm little space. The green of the Christmas lights glowed through the sheet.

  “Devin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Good. Me too.”

  “You understand something that no one else does.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “That there’s no point in being afraid.”

  “Actually,” he said. “I’m always afraid.”

  “You don’t let it stop you.”

  She tugged at him with her eyes, turning her head to one side and watching him.

  “I want you now,” she whispered. “Do you want me?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I do.”

  He worked her out of her shirt, kissing every inch of her skin as it appeared. She took his shirt off too, slow and gentle. Then she reached down, unsnapping his shorts and pulling down the zipper.

  Zrrrp. It was the most powerful sound he ever laid ears on.

  “Your turn,” he said, hooking his fingers into the sides of her shorts. He pulled them down, taking her panties along with them. He sat back, taking a second to marvel.

  “I’ve never known anyone more beautiful than you.” He breathed. “Never in my entire life.”

  He flipped her over on her stomach, pulling her panties all the way off, and kissing his way up her spine. He hit a sensitive spot on her shoulder blade, making her break out in goose bumps. She reached down, hands wrapping around him and sending a bolt of pleasure through his body.

  “Shit,” he said, suddenly realizing. “I don’t have a … I mean, it’s in my cabin—”

  “I’ve got one.”

  She rummaged through her drawer and got it out, ripping the package open with her teeth. He squinted, watching as she put it on him. It was almost enough to send him over.

  Their first condom, blue and beautiful. He would remember it forever.

  He lifted her on top of him, gasping as he slid inside. Sweat gathered on his forehead, the pleasure enveloping him.

  He shut his eyes, feeling the circuit rotating between them as he rocked. It was like a giant machine running on warm milk, slowly filling and tipping over, building to a critical limit. He saw a thousand things in the scent of her skin. The hawk, flying over the valley. Thunderheads, raining down upon the earth. Laughter on the wind and death and sadness too, beautiful in some bittersweet way. This was love, and it was strong enough to shatter cities and explode the sun.

  Her muscles tightened and pulled him in deeper. He had to look away from her face as she gasped with pleasure, afraid that her expression would send him over.

  Oh God. He dug his toes into the mattress. Hold back. Just one more thrust, one more second, one more breath.

  “Oh …” She breathed, tears in her eyes. “Baby, I’m gonna come …”

  He swayed within her and the dam broke, water rushing forth and sending him plummeting into a bottomless pit of ecstasy, pleasure so intense that red bubbles burst in his vision. She arched her back, letting out a shudder and pressing her hands into herself. He felt her tighten around him and release, her waves crashing against his.

  Waves … waves … waves … Slowly, the sea became calm again. Everything felt fuzzy.

  He lay beside her, sweat drying on his skin.

  “That was amazing,” she finally said.

  “Beyond.”

  “I like the way you feel.”

  “I like the way we feel together.”

  They wound down after that, and soon she was asleep, eyelids fluttering as she nuzzled into the pillow. He watched her, stroking her hair and smiling.

  The other day, Walter said that “some days are like sand, others like rocks, and some are like statues, carved since the dawn of days.” At the time, Devin wasn’t sure what it meant, but he got it now. He had no clue what he was doing on July 25 of last year; it was like a grain of sand, unable to be distinguished from the hundreds of others like it. Then there was the May 24, the day he arrived here. That was a rock, big and heavy. It would always remain visible on the road behind him, no matter how far ahead he got.

  Then, there was a day like today. A statue towering high in the sky, surrounded by seekers who traveled from beyond this universe to dance in its glory. That was how he would remember June 9, the day before her birthday.

  Screw not putting the pussy on the pedestal. That was exactly where it belonged.

  ***

  June 10. He dreamed about it—saw the number glowing green just like her eyes.

  He woke up early, feeling the bed shake and lying there listening as she rustled around in the dark.

  “Going jogging,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. “Want to come?”

  He grumbled a no and rolled over, pretending to go back to sleep. A second later, she had her shoes on and was out the door, heading down the trail.

  He sat up and looked out the window at the first hints of sunlight in the sky. He only had one shot at pulling this off. According to Cora, her usual route took her down the hill, out to the front gate, and all the way down to the main road, which, if he calculated correctly, would give him about twenty minutes.

  He could still feel the mushrooms in some subtle way, but he felt really clear, especially for having such little sleep. He was blessed with the eyes of a child or maybe some alien creature that had never been somewhere like Earth. Layers of unrealized filth had been cleansed, every painful memory washed away by a massive psychedelic tsunami.

  “On June tenth,” he said aloud as he headed over to the kitchen. “She was born.”

  He imagined baby Cora, tiny and crying in her mother’s arms. He thanked God for her, praying for the power to make the best surprise birthday breakfast of his life.

  He tried to embody Raven, dancing around the kitchen like a multitasking machine, blending and prepping and spicing. He made strawberry-peach smoothies, pouring them in two of the nicest glasses. He made toast, sprinkling powdered sugar on top, and he got a potato and red pepper stir-fry going in the skillet. He started a pot of coffee, set the table, and gathered a few wildflowers from outside, sprinkling them across the surface.

  He stood back and looked at it. It was beautiful, but not beautiful enough.

  He found some tea-light candles in the cupboard and lit them in lines along the center of the table, which really improved things. Then, since he had the time, he got her present out from under his bed and hauled it over, stacking it in the center of the kitchen floor and placing a big green bow on top. Raven drove him into town to get it the other day.

  She still wasn’t back. Hopefully she hadn’t stayed down at the house to use the Internet.

  He took a seat outside to wait, fanning himself with his shirt. His armpits were dripping with sweat from the adrenaline rush. This was the kind of thing he did for Jess, one of the good things about their relationship that he didn’t regret. He missed this sort of giving.

  He closed his eyes, visualizing her coming up the trail. She was coming any minute now, making that final charge up the steep part of the hill, her ridiculously tight ass muscles rocketing her forward. Up the hill, around the back of the building and …

  “Oh hey.” She appeared, breathless and glistening with sweat. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

  “Happy birthday,” he said, leading her into the kitchen.

  She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

  He swallowed down a bit of emotion, feeling like the look on her face was the reason he was born.

  “Pickles!” She let out a squeal, kneeling before the pyramid of jars.

  “Yeah,” he said. “If there’s an apocalypse, you’ll be set to survive like two winters, at least.”

  She looked up at him, cradling her face in her hand. Her eyes were f
illing with tears.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “Aw, come on. It’s your birthday. People are supposed to do stuff like this for you.”

  “Yeah, but they usually don’t.”

  “Well, I do,” he said.

  She threw her arms around him, holding on tight.

  He finished up the skillet fry as she went and took a shower, and then they feasted. He smiled as he watched her. It was the most powerful thing on Earth, feeding someone. Even more powerful than writing. Not everyone could or wanted to read, but most everyone had to eat, aside from those really advanced yogis whom, according to Raven, could live off of sunlight like plants.

  “This is delicious,” she said, wiping off her mouth.

  “All for you, my mushroom queen.”

  “You’re kind of becoming too good to be true.”

  “You think that now, but wait until I start talking in this robot voice for an entire twenty-four hours.”

  “Is this something you did to your last girlfriend? The one who’s no longer with you?”

  “Hey, keep it straight. My last girlfriend wanted to marry me.”

  The rest of the morning was spent finishing up Cora’s birthday cake while Raven sat at the kitchen table, flipping through her big book of herbal medicine. There were dried leaves, stems, pods and barks spread out in front of her. Every few minutes she would pick up something new, smell it, flip it over in her hands or hold it close and feel its energy.

  She had prepped the birthday cake the day before, and it was a raw masterpiece, crafted from coconut oil, pureed carrots, cinnamon, agave nectar, creamed cashews, and walnuts. She showed them how to make vegan cream frosting, squeezing it out in thick little swirls. Then she let them work on it while she worked on her herbs.

  The afterglow of the mushrooms had given Devin an all-day case of the giggles, and Lucius kept making strange and random comments about everything, which only made it worse.

  “Look at these vegetables,” Lucius muttered while staring at the pile of produce on the counter. “Just lying there.”

  “Look at you.” He narrowed his eyes at one of the neighbor dogs, who was trotting across the yard with a chew toy in his mouth. “Just cuz you got a bone you’re gonna be carrying it.”

  “Look at those birds.” His face filled with disgust as he looked out the window. “Flying everywhere. The sky isn’t a road!”

  Devin’s stomach muscles hurt from laughing, but he still couldn’t stop. Raven raised an eyebrow at them but carried on, having learned not to question the weirdness.

  “Hey, Raven?” he said, still chuckling. “I have a question for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “This stuff you’re making,” Devin said. “Did you use it when you were sick?”

  “I used many treatments. Some of these herbs were among them.”

  “Do they work on any cancer? Or is it something specific … You know, with the boobs.”

  “That’s a hard one,” Raven said. “Specifics of cancer. There isn’t any way for me to know exactly what I did right. Or, if it will continue to work. None of us have that.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “My mom died of cancer, so I was just curious.”

  “Oh, Devin.” Her face went pale. She rose to her feet and came at him, tears forming in her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he said, patting her on the back as she embraced him. “It wasn’t today or anything.”

  “When?”

  “I was fifteen.”

  “What type of cancer?”

  “Ovarian.”

  “Oh, honey. How are you doing with it?”

  “Okay, I guess. I was just wondering about the herbs because I don’t think she knew about any of that stuff.”

  “Would she have tried it?” Lucius asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “The human experience is an ongoing process of learning,” Raven said, squeezing his hand. “No one can learn everything in one lifetime. Not even in a hundred lifetimes. Your mama did the best she could.”

  Devin smiled, a tingle running down his back.

  He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. It was more of a feeling—the same thing that happened before he started a flow. It came straight up from the earth and developed into something more. The feeling gave him butterflies, which reminded him of sitting on the fence with Cora, hungover and eating carrots.

  It came together in his head like an explosion.

  “Oh wow,” he said. “This is really random, but I just thought of a cool name for your business.”

  He held out his hands like he was framing a picture. “The Good-Carrot Cake Company.”

  Raven drew back, appearing stunned.

  “I won’t be offended if you don’t want to use it,” he said, glancing at Lucius.

  “I like it,” Lucius said. “Has a nice ring to it.”

  Raven held up a hand to quiet them. “What made you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” Devin said, twitching with regret.

  “What does the name mean to you?”

  “Uh … Well, I guess it’s a metaphor. A good carrot kind of represents the unexpected joy in life. Plus, raw carrot cake seems to be your signature thing … right?”

  She nodded, wiping away a tear. “Last night, Walter and I were discussing my mental block over naming my business. He suggested I spend time in prayer and consult my spirit guides. I did just that—and guess what message I came out with?”

  He shrugged, waiting.

  “That someone was coming,” Raven said. “A muse, so to speak. This person was going to bring me my name.”

  “Shit,” he said under his breath. “Really?”

  “Oh yes. Auchel, one of my guides, said that it would be a very clear sign. One that I couldn’t possibly miss.”

  She threw her arms around him. He glanced at Lucius, who grinned widely and gave him a thumbs up. All Devin could do was shrug. Whatever worked.

  They had raw tapas for lunch, and afterward, they sang happy birthday to Cora and devoured the cake. It was so rich and decadent that it gave him a stomachache.

  Walter and Raven went to get ready to go out for the evening, which was now more of a celebration than their typical date night. Raven emerged from the bedroom smelling like wildflowers. Her hair was up in an elegant bun, and she wore a long, silky brown skirt. Walter came out to join her, dressed in silky things of his own. Devin and Cora wished them a happy evening, and as soon as the door shut, Cora looked at him.

  “That was really cool what you did,” she said. “She needed that push.”

  “Happy to help.”

  “I’ve been thinking. You’re really special, Devin.”

  “Thank you. As are you.”

  “Because you’re so special, I want to share a secret with you. Now that we’ve … I hope I can trust you.”

  “Of course you can trust me.”

  “This is a secret,” she said.

  “If you tell me, I’ll know you’re not a good secret keeper.”

  “But you are … right?”

  “Yeah.” He paused, stiffening a little. “Is this a good or bad secret?”

  “I guess that depends on who you ask.”

  “You’re asking the Pope. Does he think it’s a good secret?”

  She paused. “No.”

  “ … Interesting. I’m intrigued.”

  “You have to give me your word.”

  He made a solemn face, holding up his hand. “I, Devin Ashford am officially giving my word. If I ever break this promise, I will leap off a bridge into alligator-infested waters.”

  She laughed. “That won’t be necessary, but okay.”

  “Okay.”

  She leaned forward, eyes shining. “Walter and Raven are growing weed in the basement.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. And I don’t just mean a few plants. I mean like, growing weed.”

  He blinked.
“Wait … there’s a basement?”

  “Devin.”

  “You’re winding me up.”

  “I’m totally for real. I only know because I found out by accident.” She focused in on him. “I’ve been dying to tell someone for weeks.”

  “You found out by accident?”

  “There’s a secret door in the study that leads down there. You know that globe in the corner? Well if you screw off the thing on top, there’s a control panel.”

  “Okay. Now I know you’re winding me up.”

  “I swear on everything. Don’t you ever wonder how they have as much money as they do, just from owning a few crappy rental properties? Look at the food we eat, or all the expensive, organic candles that Raven is burning all the time—”

  “Casey,” Devin said, widening his eyes.

  “Yep. And Abe, I’m pretty sure. He’s said before that a lot of pet lovers that bring their animals to his practice also are the type that love weed.”

  “What’s with the whole thing with knocking three times on the study door?”

  “It’s so he can hear from the basement and know to come up.”

  “They told you this?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “They showed it to you?”

  “No,” she said. “But I saw it.”

  “ … So they don’t know that you know?”

  “No,” she said. “And I wasn’t trying to know at first. I couldn’t help that it was obvious. I couldn’t help that they hid the key right behind the painting where I could easily find it.”

  “So you just took the key and went down there?”

  “Yep.”

  “And what exactly did you see?”

  She grinned. “Why tell you when I could show you?”

  “Sure,” he scoffed.

 

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