Free Bird

by Amelia Oliver

  We get out of the truck and first things first, Sven opens one of the two car garage doors and walks to a tool bench. He retrieves a case of sorts, releasing two clips and pulling out a heavy-duty pair of binoculars. Sweetie reaches for them as Sven puts the strap over her little head and I wonder if they might be too heavy for her to hold up to her face for long.

  “They’re not as heavy as they look,” he tells her, and she takes them in her hands, immediately bringing them to her face.

  It’s when he closes the case I see they have the logo UNITED STATES MARINES painted on the front. Kneeling, he shows her how to adjust them and shows her a spot on the long driveway that will be a good place for her to look from. I watch them and it’s like I’m not even there; these two are so enamored with one another. While they talk, I glance around the property and the massive barn before me.

  “Want a beer?” Sven asks as he walks up beside me and into the garage.

  “Sure,” I say, following inside and taking a seat at the stool beside the work bench.

  He walks over to a fridge and it’s then I notice three motorcycles in various stages of repair in the second part of the garage. Returning to me with a can of beer, he pulls the tab off and hands it to me.

  “Thank you. Is there anything you can’t do?” I say, nodding towards the bikes.

  He shrugs a little, “I’m a guy, I know how to do lots of stuff,” he tells me.

  I want to say that my dad’s a guy and he doesn’t know how to build a house or repair a motorcycle. But I say nothing. He stands beside me, chugging half his beer as he reaches for various tools behind me. I get a whiff of his scent, sweat and him and I want more. I watch him as he works on the bike and vaguely hear Sweetie shouting at us all the cool things she’s seeing.

  “You’re sweet with her,” I tell him.

  He shrugs and keeps his hands working with the wrench. “I like kids. They don’t judge you and they remind you what’s really important in life,” he says.

  I nod, because it is true. Sweetie even likes Gaye and that’s really saying something. We chat about the house, music, summer vacations and anything else we can think of. We just talk; it’s unrushed and easy, I’m not worrying about my answers or what he’s going to ask me. Next thing I know, the sun’s going down and my stomach growls. Sven suggests making us something to eat, which Sweetie hears and comes running up the driveway. That’s how we end up in his loft, sitting around the dining table eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Sweetie does most the talking, filling Sven in on her lists of things she’s seen her entire life, including the fairies and dragon sightings in Plantain. Again, Sven listens to her and asks her questions and I feel my heart latching onto him. His eyes are genuine and playful, and I know it’s making Sweetie feel like a million bucks to have his attention. Sven asks me if I want another beer just as Sweetie yawns and I glance out the window to see it’s totally dark out now.

  “We should go,” I reply, as I stand, pulling Sweetie’s chair out to pick her up.

  “I want Sven to carry me,” she says through another yawn.

  He and I look at one another, and I nod that it’s okay if he wants to. Scooping her into his arms, she curls around him. I can’t believe how many stairs there are to get down from the loft, but I lead the way and get into the truck for Sven to hand me a now sleeping Sweetie.

  “Scoot over to the middle,” he tells me and I do, laying her down and resting her head on my lap.

  I watch as he loads the bikes into the bed and then slides into the driver’s seat. I’ve slid over too far and not left him enough room, but he sits and starts the truck, lifting his arm over my head and resting it behind me on the seat.

  “Sorry,” I quickly say, feeling awkward for crowding him.

  When he doesn’t respond and I inhale his scent again, this time right by my nose, I look up at him. He’s looking down at me, my lips to be exact and I lick them, before also looking at his lips. They part and give me a little smile, just as he reaches up and tucks some hair behind my ear.

  “I forgot to tell you,” he says softly, his breath flowing over my lips. “You look really pretty today.”

  I look down and give him a shy smile, willing my cheeks not to blush as I face the front window. The drive to my side of town is over too fast, although I can tell he’s tried to take the longest route possible. Midway there, I feel myself leaning into the warmth of his body until I’m leaning completely against his side. I’m about to apologize when he moves his arm around me, his hand curling over my shoulder. I want to kiss him, or him to kiss me. Regardless, I want our lips touching. When he pulls into the driveway, he shuts the truck off and the headlights stop shining in on the house.

  “Thank you, for fixing the bike, and making her day with the binoculars and everything,” I say.

  Crickets chirp all around us through the open windows. The summer heat of the day has cooled to a refreshing breeze under the night sky. I’m trembling; not from the cold, but from his proximity. If we both turned our heads at the same time, we’d be so close, but I can’t face him.

  “It was my pleasure,” he says, looking at the side of my face.

  His fingers run along the fabric of my sleeve and I feel all my senses sharpen and focus on him.

  “Faye,” he says.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Look at me,” he states.

  I inhale and shift my eyes, preparing for the kiss, when Sweetie shifts on my lap and sits up, rubbing her eyes. As soon as she’s free from me, I slide away from Sven and she crawls into my arms. I start for the front porch and Sven tells me he’s just going to put the bikes at the side of the house, and I give him a wave over my shoulder. After getting Sweetie to bed, I get ready for bed myself and it doesn’t take long once I get settled to think about Sven telling me to look at him. Was he going to kiss me, or did he just want to look in my eyes? I imagine us kissing being the scenario, and I fall asleep after bringing myself to orgasm.

  The next few days, I sit in my room and read while Sweetie plays in her room. Well, I try to read, over the hammers and other construction sounds. When I hear the men talking on the other side of the house, in a language I don’t understand, I try to pick out Sven’s voice. Of course, I think they all sound like him.

  I think about him so much, and almost obsess about seeing him, that he starts invading my dreams. The dreams vary from watching him working on the house, shirtless and sawing wood or something, to the kind that have me waking up in a sweat and panting from the things he’d been doing to me. He makes me feel like I did when I first saw Elvis Presley. When someone is so inherently sexy, that it’s all I think about when I think of that person.

  I’m thinking about that very thing one night while I sit on my bed. Once again, I’m trying to read, but my thoughts are taking me away. Downstairs, my parents are arguing about who-knows-what, and, after almost a half hour, I can’t take it anymore. I’m still dressed from the day, so I brush my hair into a ponytail and check to make sure Sweetie’s asleep in her room before I make my way downstairs. My shoes aren’t quiet on the wooden steps, but my parents don’t stop their raised voices and pretend they aren’t fighting or anything. Originally, I just planned to go for a walk, but my feet take me into town and to the diner. I notice a HELP WANTED sign in the window and without a second thought, I summon the confidence I once wore with a sash across my body, and march in and apply. The owner, William Dylan, speaks with me in the back and even though I have no experience waitressing, he tells me he needs a girl from seven p.m. to eleven p.m.; three or four nights a week. I kick it around in my head, and knowing the extra money will help get me and Sweetie out of my parents’ house sooner, I take it.

  I can’t help but look at the patrons as I walk through the diner, a little disappointed Sven’s not there. Continuing my walk-through town, I notice the movie title for the feature film at the theater on the marquee. The Godfather is playing and I haven’t seen it. Patting my back pocket for
money, I pull out enough for the movie ticket and popcorn. The teenage girl at the ticket booth recognizes me from when I’ve brought Sweetie and she tells me she’s snuck in and watched some of the movie, saying it’s so good but there’s a few scenes that will shock me. I’ve read the book so I assume she means the horse head or maybe when Sonny’s assassinated. I thank her and make my way inside the bronze doors to get my popcorn.

  I’m the only one in the theater and I check the giant analog clock on the wall and notice there’s still five minutes before the movie starts. I sit there in the silence, in the dim light, thinking about my parents fighting and how I can’t wait to move out, wondering what Gaye’s reaction will be the day I finally tell her I’m leaving. I startle when the theater doors open behind me, and voices of males and females come blasting in. I turn to see some guys my age and some girls, wearing barely any clothes. It isn’t until I see Sven in the back of the group that I recognize the others as guys working on the house. They take up seats on the opposite side of the theater, looking at me as they notice they’re not alone. The girls keep popping their bubble gum and eyeing me like I need to stay away from their guys. Turning back in my seat, I don’t think Sven’s seen me, but then I realize how ridiculous that is because I’m the only other person here. Out of the corner of my eye I see a dark figure come towards me just as the lights go out and the film projector starts up, shining light onto the screen. The seat is pushed down next to me and he sits, his leg pressing into mine.

  “Hi,” he whispers.

  “Hi,” I reply.

  “How are you?”

  “Fine,” I say, keeping my eyes on the screen.

  The movie starts and we sit in silence for a moment, but the group he came with talk and laugh and I really hope they stop because I want to watch the movie.

  “Hold Kjeft!” Sven says loudly over towards them.

  They heckle him and say something back, tossing popcorn at us.

  “Sorry,” he tells me, looking back over to me.

  I look at him. “It’s okay,” I shake my head, causing the ends of my ponytail to brush across my bare shoulders.

  Our eyes flutter over one another’s faces, and my heartbeat begins to pick up.

  “Popcorn?” I offer, tilting the bag for him.

  “Come on!” a guy shouts and I look over Sven’s shoulder, to see his friends all looking up at the projector box.

  “I’m working on it,” a voice comes back to them.

  “What?” I say, but Sven looks over at me.

  “You wanna get outta here?” he questions.

  “No, I want to watch the mov-”

  Before I can finish the sentence, the film stops, the group picks up their cheering and then, it happens. Cheesy music begins and they start clapping, and Sven gives me a look I can’t describe other than nervous. I look over at the screen just as the words DEEP THROAT flash. I’ve heard of this film of course, it’s sex, people having sex on film. My brows furrow because I still don’t quite understand.

  “Our friend runs the projector. Let’s go-”

  “No,” I say, stopping him. I exhale and look over at him.

  His expression has changed, but I don’t want him to think I’m a prude or something, so I sit back in my seat and watch the film. I can’t explain what’s going on in my body; nerves, excitement, anticipation, exhilaration, from the movie, and from having Sven inches from me. I can smell him, feel the heat from his arm beside mine on the arm rest. I’m turned on from all of it. My cheeks are roasting, between my legs is hot and I try to control my breathing and not get lost in the film like I’m alone. A sex scene begins and I shift in my seat, uncrossing my legs in hopes to extinguish the desire radiating from my core.

  But then it happens, I inhale and smell myself, my arousal, and I freeze. If I didn’t think my face could get any hotter, I was wrong. I don’t know why I’m so embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t notice, but then I see him looking at the side of my face, just as he shifts his arm off the armrest and places his big opened hand on my thigh. My body jolts from the unexpected touch, from the touch, period. It rests there and I telepathically will him to move. I’ve worn a short skirt, the hemline resting at mid-thigh. The couple on the screen begin making sounds of pleasure and I close my eyes, wanting to focus on Sven and only Sven.

  Tentatively, his fingers begin to slide down to my inner thigh, testing my reaction, and I spread my legs wider, inviting him. A small deep groan comes from him as he inhales deeply through his nose and I look down to watch his hand disappearing inside my skirt. The skin of his hand is rough and callused, and it tickles a little against my soft thigh. My head rests on the back of the seat and I turn my head to face him, he’s looking down at my lap before flicking his eyes to mine and the bag of popcorn falls out of my hand onto the floor. He looks sexy and manly, but also a bit surprised. I have to admit this does feel a bit surreal. I don’t even know this guy, but God it feels good not to care about anything but this feeling at the moment. Fingertips trace the elastic of my panties, back and forth, slow and steady while my eyes drift shut again.

  When his pinky runs up along my clit I moan and thankfully because of the movie, no one hears me. But Sven’s body shifts closer, and I can feel his breath against my face. My feet lift onto the toes of my shoes, trying to give him more room, but the arm rest is hindering my legs from opening any further. Sven rubs me, my panties wet and sticking to my skin and probably drenching his fingers. My chest heaves and I move my hands up the front of my shirt before running them over my neck, restraining myself from what I really want to do.

  “Keep going,” Sven encourages in my ear, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  I blink up at him, half his face lit up from the screen, while the other stays bathed in darkness. Something about him blocks every inner adult voice screaming at me to be a lady and stop, but this feels too good, so I trace my fingers down to cup my breasts. His hand twitches and then moves faster as I grasp and grope myself. His lips are parted and he’s breathing faster, while my hips begin to circle as I grow closer.

  Suddenly, Sven’s hand is gone and he’s pulling my skirt down. I then realize the movies off and the lights are on. Sven’s turned his back to me and is literally blocking me from his friends. I hear an older man’s voice asking what’s going on, and Sven’s friends telling him we’re just having fun. I feel like I look a hot, sweaty mess and I use the diversion to back down the end of the aisle and away from them, hustling for the side exit.

  3

  FAYE

  Before the movie theater incident, I longed to run into Sven. Now, I was thankful I didn’t see him much. I didn’t really know how to register how I felt about what happened. I was mortified even more that I’d just left. Embarrassment has me wanting to run away when I see Sven standing beside the house, almost like he’s waiting for me. I could just turn around and walk back into town, but he sees me and starts walking toward me before I can. As he approaches, I can’t read his expression.

  “Something wrong?” I ask.

  He furrows his brows. “That’s what I wanted to ask you.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I shrug a shoulder, but I’m anything but casual as he stands in front of me, his fingers taking my elbow and pulling me closer to him.

  “I can still smell you,” he tells me in a hushed tone, his breath caressing my skin, “on my fingers, my nose, all around me.”

  I blink and look at his lips, knowing I can’t do this, we can’t do this. I want him, but I’m leaving after the summer and won’t ever see him again. Closing my eyes and exhaling quickly, I remove my arm from his grasp, stepping away and walking towards the porch. But I only move away an inch before he’s in front of me, putting his hands on my biceps and bending down for my eyes to meet his.

  “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel what I felt.”

  My heart stammers, and I pause, looking at him as his eyes plead with me. I want to admit he’s affected me, but again, I can’t do
that to him or me. His eyes search mine frantically, and I open my mouth to speak but I don’t even know where to start.

  “Who’s your new friend?”

  My mom’s voice cuts through the energy between us and we both turn to look up at her on the porch. Well, I immediately look at her, but I can feel his eyes lingering on the side of my face.

  “This is Sven,” I tell her.

  She gives me a look, a familiar one. She knows this man makes me nervous, and my stomach sinks. She saunters down the steps, making sure her hips sway as she gives Sven her brightest smile. As she gets to the bottom step, she stands between us, causing me to move back to not get her beehive hairdo in my face.

  “Gaye Spencer-Hamilton,” she says, extending a dainty hand for Sven to take.

  “Nice to meet you,” he nods.

  “You two know each other?” Gaye asks, looking at us expectantly.

  “We’ve run into each other a few times,” Sven answers, still smiling and still blind to my mom’s true intentions.

  She looks at me and I nod with confirmation.

  “Well, then, Sven,” she says his name like a curse word. “You should know that my daughter is not the woman of the house, so if there’s anything you need then please come and see me,” she tells him.

  “Oh yes, absolutely,” he agrees, not skipping a beat.

  “We were just saying hello,” I defend.

  Her eyes cut to mine. “And now you’ve done that,” she tells me.

  I turn and begin up the porch steps.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you,” Sven states.

  “Don’t you have work to do?”

  Sven doesn’t reply but I hear my mom’s kitten heels clapping on the wood as she follows me. I walk towards the kitchen and past the tarps hanging from the entryways on the side of the house that’s being worked on. Setting the groceries on the counter as the men talk on the other side of the wall and slam hammers into things.

  “Faye,” she begins and I turn to face her.