by S.E. Akers
“Can anyone tell me why it’s impossible?” Professor Grey posed, waiting for a response.
Everyone remained silent. For this to be a coal mining community, no one seemed to know ANYTHING about how coal was formed from the earth.
Professor Grey remained at the blackboard with his back to our class and asked, “Anyone at all?”
From my vantage point, Ms. Fitzpatrick looked frustrated to say the least (the very least). The embarrassment she must have been feeling because not one person in her “top” senior class was answering (or even attempting a guess) was written all over her face. I felt awful for her. I turned to get a glimpse of the clock. We only had a minute or two left of class, but I sat there wishing that the bell would ring—right now—to put Ms. Fitz out of her misery. Anxiously, I twisted my little gold locket back and forth vigorously as a wave of guilt started to overwhelm me. After all, I was a part of this class. Even Ms. Fitz must suspect that her “star student” had some inkling as to what the correct answer was. Ugh. That made me feel even worse.
What the heck… I collected my thoughts, summoned some courage, and cleared my throat.
“Even though the bituminous coal found in our local mine contains carbon atoms, there’s not currently nor has there ever been enough pressure or hot enough temperatures to allow such a transformation to occur. Even if the right geological processes were in place, considering the number of impurities bituminous coal contains, it would turn into graphite way before it would ever become a diamond. That’s why it’s an impossibility.”
“Excellent answer!” Professor Tanner Grey exclaimed as he turned around from the board. He looked straight into my eyes as he slid his glasses down onto the tip of his perfect nose. “Miss Shiloh Wallace,” he added with a sly grin while his eyes remained locked on mine.
I thought everyone was going to get a case of whiplash from the way their heads whirled around to look at me — all at once. I felt the surprise and envy of all the females in the room, including Ms. Fitz. My cheeks started to feel warm, flushing the same way they did last night. All I could do was innocently raise my eyebrows and flash an uneasy smile.
I immediately began planning an evasive departure. As soon as the dismissal bell rang, I lowered my head and hightailed it towards the door, hoping to avoid any further contact with our guest speaker. I was more than relieved when I spied Kara and several other girls rushing towards him. They all hovered around the handsome professor like a fluttery clump of moths helplessly skirting the edges of a flame. This was actually the first time Kara’s horny-hormones had ever worked to my advantage. What a happy coincidence.
I felt a tug on my arm as I hurried down the hall. Katie.
“What was THAT?” Katie asked as her pace quickened, trying to catch up with me.
“A correct answer,” I replied irrefutably.
“No. Not that . . . Miss Shiloh Wallace?” Katie questioned, repeating my name in the same charming way it had rolled off the professor’s tongue.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged.
“Was he at the meeting yesterday?” Katie probed.
I had to tell her something. “Not exactly.”
Katie looked confused.
“I sort of ran into him out on Shiloh Ridge.” That was more literal than she knew. “But I never gave him my name.”
“That’s weird,” Katie speculated aloud.
I was amused by her choice of the word “weird”. If I told her about all the things that had happened yesterday, she would probably rethink the use of that word.
“No, I mean, really weird. What were YOU even doing out on the ridge? I thought ‘Shi’ with a ‘Y’ would never go out there again?” Katie questioned, well aware of my childhood experience and just how neurotic I was about it.
“I thought I heard something and went to check it out,” I replied coolly. “No big deal.”
I wasn’t sure if she’d bought my blasé attitude. I didn’t. I thought to myself, No big deal? Yeah right…
“Nice to see you’re conquering those childhood fears,” Katie teased and gave my back a playful pat. “Hey — Let’s run downtown and grab something to eat. I’ve got to help my dad inventory some new necklaces this afternoon, but he doesn’t know that school’s out for the day.” Katie placed her finger next to her mouth and let out a secretive “shush”.
It sounded like a good idea. I thought I might go into work a little early, but then I would inevitably have to grab something from the Sterling Drive-In. Their food was good, but I did get tired of eating it all the time.
“Only if we go to Anthony’s,” I insisted. “I’m in the mood for Italian, and I’m craving a thick, cheesy stromboli.”
“Agreed,” Katie smiled and then locked her arm around mine. After a quick stop by our lockers, we strolled out of the school and made our way down to the lower lot.
The ride there took less than a minute. Luckily I found an empty parking space on the street, right in front of the restaurant. The mouthwatering aroma of fresh marinara sauce had our appetites fully aroused just as soon as we stepped inside. Anthony’s was a charming Italian eatery that served some of the best food around. The restaurant’s atmosphere was warm and folksy, with a touch of old world flair. Even at lunchtime, their tables looked impeccable, always covered with crisp white linens and all the candles wedged into their wicker-bottomed wine bottles always lit. Anthony’s wasn’t crowded at all when we’d arrived, so we snagged a great spot by one of their front windows. However as we ordered our meal, the tables and booths began to fill up rather quickly.
I tried steering the conversation away from anything remotely related to the mine or Lazarus Xcavare, but that was all Katie wanted to chat about. She even touched on the subject of Professor Grey. Maybe lunch was a big mistake?
Katie tapped on the table lightly and motioned her eyes towards the counter. “Look who just came in,” she whispered. I started to turn my head when she kicked me under the table. “No — Don’t look.”
“Do you want me to look or not?” I whispered back.
“You can look, but don’t be so obvious,” Katie urged.
In a discreet fashion, I got up and walked over to grab a crushed red pepper shaker from the adjacent table. When I turned to head back, I nonchalantly glanced around the restaurant. As soon as I spotted whom Katie was referring to, I tripped over my own feet and practically fell back into our booth. It was Mr. Estell.
“You could’ve warned me. That man gives me the creeps,” I fussed and then swiftly returned the kick she’d given me a moment ago.
This is the THIRD TIME I’ve seen him in the past TWO DAYS.
“Sorry,” Katie giggled. “I thought ‘Shi’ with a ‘Y’ had conquered all of her fears. I should’ve known better. My mistake.”
It really wasn’t like me to think bad things about people, not without having a valid reason, but Mr. Estell had the potential to fit the bill.
“What do you think of him?” I whispered, desperate for an objective opinion.
“I don’t know. I think he lives over around Jolo.” Her eyes lit up. “Maybe he belongs to that snake-handling cult over there?” Katie watched him leave the restaurant with his to-go order. “He’s gone,” she announced in a much louder tone.
“I don’t think it’s a cult. It’s a church of some sort,” I replied. It seemed I was going to be the objective one.
Katie shot me a crazy look. “A church? A church where they handle freakin’ snakes! I prefer to carry a bible when I go to church — not a garden hoe.”
I got tickled at the mental image of Katie whacking off snakeheads in the middle of Pastor Hubble’s Sunday service.
“Oh, I see . . . and you know this for sure because you’ve actually been there?” I countered with a playfully dubious twinkle in my eyes.
“NO. But I’ve heard people talk . . . and I’ve seen reports about them on TV. That’s how they show t
heir faith . . . by lettin’ snakes bite all over them. Poisonous ones too,” she added with a foul shiver. “I think they like rattlers mostly.”
With all the eerie things that had happened to me lately, I really didn’t want to spend any more of my lunchtime discussing venomous reptiles. Change of subject…
“There’s Mr. Anderson,” I remarked and pointed to the bulky & bright cherry-red Dodge dually that had just pulled up in front of the restaurant. Mark Anderson waved to us through the window as he hurried to the back of his truck. A few seconds later, he reappeared carrying a wooden basket full of vegetables.
“Looks like he’s been in his garden today,” Katie commented.
Mark Anderson was famous around these parts for his tomatoes. They had won first prize for the last three years at the state fair in Lewisburg. As soon as Mr. Anderson entered the restaurant, he smiled and sauntered over to our table.
“Hidey-ho, girls. What are you two doin’ in here and not up at the school?” Mr. Anderson asked.
“They let us out early because of Homecoming,” Katie replied with a courteous smile.
“That’s nice. Homecoming’s a big deal ’round here. Tonight’s game will be a good one. Toughest all season,” he added. Whenever Mr. Anderson spoke of football, his eyes lit up like firecrackers on the Fourth of July. Daddy had informed me (on many occasions) that Mark Anderson was the best quarterback ever to play for Welch High School. He’d even earned a football scholarship from WVU. Though unfortunately, he also received a horrible injury to his right shoulder when he played in the Gator Bowl during his junior year. Daddy said, and I quote, “That son-of-a-bitch from LSU nearly tore his arm off!” He never picked up a football again and dropped out of college. He returned home to Welch and got a job working in the mine for a while, but he preferred the sunshine. Mr. Anderson ended up going into the farming business. He grew vegetables throughout the year and hibernated like a bear during the winter. Considering his dream of playing professional football had been yanked out from under him, he seemed very happy with how his life had turned out.
“I’m here dropping off some of my tomatoes. Anthony likes the organic ones I’ve started growing. Ya know, ya gotta keep up with the times. It’s good to be green,” he insisted with a nod. “These are the last ones from my garden, but I’ll still have some growin’ in my greenhouses. They should put out enough to keep him happy through the winter. But I’m glad I ran into you, Shiloh. I’ve been meanin’ to bring some stuff over to your house for your mother. She’s such a sweet lady. A real fine woman. She hasn’t been by the farm much lately.” Mr. Anderson shifted his stance a bit. “To buy my vegetables,” he quickly clarified. “I thought I’d bring her some to remind her of what good stuff she’s been missin’.”
A sneaky suspicion sent my pulse racing as I stared up at him. Funny, I thought to myself, I never knew she bought vegetables from Mr. Anderson’s farm. I’m usually the one who goes to the grocery store for the majority of the food purchases.
I grabbed one of the ripe tomatoes and rolled it around in my hand. “Sure, Mr. Anderson. I’ll give her the basket and make sure she knows what ‘she’s been missin’,” I assured with a shrewd grin.
“Great. Here you go,” Mr. Anderson announced appreciatively and placed the basket on our table. “I’d better go and see about my deliveries now. You ladies have a nice lunch.”
As he trotted off to find Anthony, I tossed the tomato back into the basket and looked over at Katie. She sat there quietly with the same suspicious look on her face. She started to say something when her phone rang.
Katie rolled her eyes at the screen and answered it in a quick huff. “Hey, Dad . . . Yeah, school was dismissed early today . . . I’m getting ready to eat lunch with Shi at Anthony’s . . . Ugh! Our food is going to be RIGHT OUT . . . Okay, okay — FINE. Bye.” She clicked off the phone and slammed herself against the back of the leather booth. “I have to get mine to go,” Katie pouted. “He’s pissed because I didn’t go straight to the shop after school. I’m sorry, Shi.”
“That’s okay. I’ll just eat real quick and then head over to the Drive-In.”
“But you’ll be sitting here . . . all alone,” Katie said sadly as she fiddled with her little diamond pendant.
Katie had “a thing” about being alone. Seeing people carrying on throughout their daily lives all alone really bothered her for some reason. I never understood why. Maybe because she’s an only-child and her parents shower her with attention? Who knows?
I looked around the crowded restaurant and laughed. “There’s not an empty seat in here. I’m hardly alone. I don’t mind.” I started to like the sound of some solitude while I ate. After all, I had plenty of thoughts rolling around in my head to keep me company.
“Okay. I’ll tell Shelia to wrap mine up and send yours over. Bye, Shi. Hey, I’ll try to swing by the Drive-In tonight after the game.” Katie scampered over to our waitress and filled her in on the plan. A minute later, my best friend was walking out the door with her brown bag in tow.
Shelia was beside me within seconds. She informed me that Katie had picked up my tab (out of guilt, I assumed) and then placed an oversized, white oval plate down on the table. My steaming-hot stromboli smelled heavenly, so I dove right into it. And it was a good thing I’d worn my red shirt. As much care as I would always take when eating my favorite dish, it was notoriously messy. Any drippy sauce—which would inevitably land on me—wouldn’t be so conspicuous.
I’d just taken a bite that was too large for my mouth, and the cheese had left a clingy trail down to the plate when I heard someone say, “This place is pretty packed. Do you mind if I sit with you?”
No visual confirmation was needed. I already knew who it was. Quickly, I placed my cheese-covered fork back on my plate, swiped any lingering sauce off my mouth, and choked down what remnants I could. I tilted my head up to see Professor Grey standing there, grinning.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the professor replied as he brazenly slid into the side of the booth that had just been vacated by Katie. “No sense in talking with your mouth full. That would be rude.” He picked up a menu and placed it in front him, hiding his entire face and upper body. “So, what’s good here?” he called out from behind it, clearly mocking my attempt to camouflage myself in Ms. Fitz’s class.
I lowered his menu and placed it back on the table. “What are you doing here?”
“The same thing you are . . . Getting lunch,” Professor Grey countered as he looked around the restaurant.
Evidently the cheeky professor was going to try my patience. “No. What are you doing here?” I repeated, pointing to the table.
Professor Grey puckered his lips a bit, pretending to be somewhat offended. “Well, I didn’t see any other empty seats . . . And besides, I figured it was the least you could do since I helped you find your way home last night. But don’t worry, Red. I’ll be back out there this evening, just in case you get lost again . . . when you’re on your way to Grandma’s house,” he assured and then gave the basket of vegetables a cutesy flick with his fingers.
I looked down at my red shirt and then over at the basket. Yeah, I couldn’t help but crack a little smile at that one.
“I’m working tonight, but rest assured, you won’t see me out on that ridge again,” I vowed with a sharp nod.
“Why not?” Professor Grey quizzed. “It’s quite peaceful out there, and views of the mountains are spectacular, especially this time of year. The fall foliage is at its peak, and the sunsets are nothing less than amazing.”
“True,” I agreed. But then again, HE wasn’t the one being chased by the big, black cloud of death on the ridge while HE was collecting samples, and as HE was gazing at picturesque sunsets.
Still skeptical, I decided to ask him again, “Are you sure you didn’t see or hear anything while you were out there yesterday?”
“I to
ld you, nothing except a frightened little girl . . . though today she looks more worried than frightened.” Professor Grey leaned in closer. “What should I have seen?” he whispered, almost as if he knew my answer required discretion.
His closer proximity made me uneasy. Fearing I would start blushing again, I straightened myself up and pulled back as far as my side of the leather booth would allow.
“Nothing . . . Nothing at all,” I reassured him. “But I do have a question for you.”
“You’re in luck,” he said with a sharp point of his finger and postured himself in his seat. “I’m a professor, and I love questions. But I have to say, the only thing I love more than questions are answers. Specifically correct ones that are articulated to perfection.”
His remark sent my cheeks well on their way to that flush I was so desperate to avoid. I quickly cleared my throat in an attempt to stifle the unexpected blood-flow. “How did you know my name?”
Professor Grey grinned slyly. “It’s possible I had a conversation with Kristine. Oh, excuse me . . . Ms. Fitzpatrick. Like I said, I’m always on the lookout for recruits. She may have dropped your name to me this morning, and I may have spied your last name on the mailbox outside your house last night. I just put two and two together. That’s what us college professors do — Ya know?” he posed, attempting to imitate our local dialect with his last crack.
“I guess I haven’t had enough fancy book learnin’ to figure that out yet. Thank ya for the tip,” I vocalized in my thickest hick accent and mustered a slick grin of my own.
His smile stretched wider, clearly amused. “So, have you picked a college yet?” The hush that fell over the table lifted his brow straight into a curious arch. “You are planning to go to college, aren’t you?” Professor Grey questioned.
I was surprised to see he had a serious side and not all smart-assy. “I’ve picked plenty. I just haven’t heard from any of them yet.” Anyone could tell I was frustrated by that fact.
“I’m sure you will,” Professor Grey stated confidently. “Have you applied to Yardley?”
My mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
“Why not? You have the grades and the SAT score,” Professor Grey added casually.
Crap. He’s seen my grades and my SAT score, too? Is there no confidentiality at that school? For a second, I felt like I was having lunch with a stalker.
“Yes, I do. But unfortunately, I don’t have the money for it. Isn’t Yardley like the top Ivy League school for sciences . . . with a pretty $95,000 a year price-tag?”
“You have plenty of options,” Professor Grey insisted. “Financial aid . . . Student loans . . . Scholarships . . . Grants . . . Take your pick.”
This guy seems to have an answer for everything, I thought as I shook my head and then took another bite of my stromboli.
Shelia stopped by our table and took his order, seeming just as smitten with Professor Grey as every other female who had laid eyes on him. I’d never seen her act this coquettish before. You would have thought our server was having a seizure from the way she was flipping her head around and batting her eyes. Professor Grey acted nonchalantly about the attention — which made her flirt even more.
The sun started shining through the window, which locked my lids in a squint and redirected my stare down to the professor’s chest. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and his cornflower blue shirt was unbuttoned at the top. The intense rays beaming from the midday sun were reflecting off a gold chain lying around his neck. I’d never seen light dance so beautifully before. His necklace trailed down his chest into a point under his shirt instead of circling it. Without realizing, I reached for my little gold locket and started twisting it back and forth. His eyes widened when he noticed me staring.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, embarrassed. “I was watching the light reflect off your gold chain. It’s almost hypnotic.”
“Oh, is it?” Professor Grey asked.
“Mine has never sparkled like that.” I lifted my necklace to show him what I meant.
The charming professor’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in for a closer look, studying my locket meticulously. I thought he was going to touch it at first, but he didn’t.
“Tell me what’s in it,” Professor Tanner Grey insisted in a soft-spoken, yet adamant tone.
His order surprised me, but I passed it off as an innocent curiosity. “Umm . . . There’s a picture of my mom on one side and my dad on the other.” I let out a laugh and added, “I think.”
“What do you mean, ‘you think’?” he countered.
“My sister has one like it. We got them at the same time. The lock on mine is broken, but I saw the pictures in hers. My dad wanted me to get a new one, but I didn’t see the need. It was something both of us shared. Anyway, it’s just one of the few special things my mom has ever done for me . . . out of the blue.”
I immediately cut myself off. Uh, ramble much, Shyloh? You shouldn’t have said all that. It’s one thing to talk about family problems with Katie, but you don’t know this guy. And you certainly don’t need to discuss any of your mommy-issues with him.
“Is there something on the end of yours?” I asked, changing the subject. He looked deep in thought about something, but he finally acknowledged my question.
“Yes . . . Yes, there is. It’s kind of my good luck charm.” Professor Grey started to pull the chain out from under his shirt, but he paused. “Would you like to see it?” he teased.
I crinkled my eyes and then yielded a nod. Professor Grey continued tugging on the glistening chain until a striking tumbled stone appeared that featured a medley of rich browns and lustrous golds. Each of the swirly streaks faded into the next, blending the various hues seamlessly. My eyes were drawn to the depth of the golden tones, which seemed to pop out in the sunlight. It reminded me of eating chocolate fudge-marble ice cream drizzled with caramel when I was a little. Without a doubt, my attention had been captured, and I found myself utterly bewitched by the stone.
“What is it?” I asked, full of suspense.
“It’s a tiger’s-eye . . . well not literally,” Professor Grey remarked with a grin.
My desire to hold the striking little stone was picking up steam, almost like I was craving to touch it. But how rude would that be? To reach over and just grab it? I really didn’t know him at all. However, he sure did know a lot about me.
“Where did you get it?” I inquired.
“It was given to me by a dear friend years ago. I’ve had it longer than I can remember.” He held it up in the air and swayed it back and forth. “Its legend states that a tiger’s-eye can conceal you from harm by protecting your psyche.”
I could sure use one of those…
Strangely, it wasn’t fastened to a traditional setting. The gold simply outlined the edge of the stone and wrapped around its top.
“Does it work?” I asked.
Professor Grey glanced down at his tiger’s-eye and then up at me. “Well, I wasn’t the one running scared through the woods last night, was I?”
That was blunt, I thought. Truthful, but blunt.
“Touch it,” Professor Grey insisted. “I can tell you want to.”
My lips eased into a soft, knowing smile. Apparently my desire to hold his tiger’s-eye was more evident than I’d realized.
“It doesn’t bite,” Professor Grey assured. “I promise.”
My curiosity overcame any of my doubts as I leaned across the table. Professor Grey moved closer, dangling the mysterious stone in front of me like a hypnotist. In a delicate manner, I reached for the gold chain securing it.
“No. The stone needs to make a connection to you. Touch it,” he tempted in a rustle. “You have to draw its energy into your own.”
I sat there thinking how kooky his words were, but in light of recent events, I found myself wanting them to be true.
“That’s how the legend goes, of course,” he
added, taking my skepticism into account.
I carefully stroked my index finger across the face of the stone. Though a part of me still thought it was a bunch of hocus-pocus malarkey, the tiger’s-eye was surprisingly warm to the touch. Then again, it had been lying against his chest. I caressed it gently, and for a second, I could have sworn I felt the tips of my fingers tingling a bit.
I do feel a little more secure…but it’s all psychological, I rationalized. After all, I was sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant and nowhere near a creepy ridge haunted by some sinister fog creature trying to kill me. Why shouldn’t I feel safe?
I looked up the professor, only to find myself instantly dumbfounded when I noticed his eyes. The alluring set of hazel-colored irises I’d been staring at merely seconds ago were now a deep shade of violet. They didn’t have just a fleck of purple; this time, they were saturated in the vibrant hue.
“Do your eyes always change color like that?” I blurted suspiciously.
Professor Grey redirected his head towards the table. “Like what?” he asked as he jerked away and then tucked the mysterious stone back inside his shirt.
“Last night, I saw a little purple in them,” I began to probe as I watched him lift his head, “And now, they’re . . . ” My mouth fell open. “Back to HAZEL?!? But they were completely VIOLET a second ago,” I insisted.
“You must be mistaken,” Professor Grey challenged.
“NO. I know what I saw,” I argued. “Your hazel eyes turned purple. I’m not crazy.”
“Maybe you saw something being reflected off them?” Professor Grey posed. “My eyes are kind of light.”
I decided to cross-examine his cockamamie claim. “Okay . . . Then where did the purple come from?”
His hazel eyes remained locked with mine as he lifted up Anthony’s dessert menu and waved it in the air.
Disappointed, I thought, Crap… It’s purple.
At the rate I was going with strange occurrences, I was going to need a straitjacket—not a dress—by tomorrow night. Another quick change of subject was what my humiliation demanded.
Happily the universe provided one. A black SUV was pulling up across the street. Once it had parked, the driver hopped out and opened the rear passenger door. There was the mystery man himself, Lazarus Xcavare.
I pointed out the window. “What’s his deal? Is he a businessman making a purchase or a philanthropist who’s here to save the town?”
Professor Tanner Grey studied his boss with a curious air. “Oh, Lazarus is all business. He’s extremely ambitious . . . and very persistent.”
I didn’t get the impression that Professor Grey genuinely liked him. The slant of his eyes and the slight flair of his nostrils was a good enough hint.
Professor Grey’s eyes remained locked on Lazarus Xcavare, intentionally and undeniably heated. “I think he’d buy up the whole planet to get what he wants,” he added.
“So he wants one more mine to add to his collection?” I posed, stumped by both his remark and his demeanor.
“Something like that,” Professor Tanner Grey replied and then redirected his gaze back to me. “I think his attempt to revitalize Welch is really just—”
“To look good for his company’s shareholders?” I quickly interrupted.
Professor Grey grinned. “See, Kristine was right . . . The smartest one in the class.” He glanced back over to Lazarus Xcavare, who was now talking to one of Welch’s local residents. “Who’s that man Lazarus is talking to? Do you know him?”
I knew exactly who it was. “That’s Kyle Parsons. He works in the County Clerk’s office.”
Professor Grey’s eyes widened slightly. It was subtle, but it was still obvious that he was in deep thought about something concerning the meeting transpiring on the street.
I looked down at my watch. “Well, I should be going.”
“So soon?” Professor Grey posed.
I nodded briskly as I scooted out of the booth. I quickly threw down a tip, slung my purse over my shoulder, and grabbed the basket of goodies for Charlotte. Shelia promptly arrived with his calzone and placed it in front him, practically shoving her breasts in his face when she leaned across the table. Then she threw him a highly suggestive wink before flitting off back to the kitchen.
I shook my head. Well, that was OBVIOUS…
Professor Grey rose from the booth. “Don’t be a stranger, Ms. Wallace. Maybe I’ll see you around town again?”
“Well, it is small,” I answered and then started my stroll towards the door.
“Oh, if you do run into me again, not so hard next time,” he called out, loud enough to turn more than a few customers’ heads.
I stopped abruptly and turned to see him grinning as he lowered himself back into the booth. Slightly embarrassed, I rushed out of the restaurant, giving the glass door a gruff push. As I walked to my car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would be seeing him again — somewhere and somehow.
I puttered off down the road, headed straight for the Sterling Drive-In. I arrived at the 50’s & 60’s themed eatery just as the lunch-rush was starting to wind down. Charlie didn’t mind a bit that I’d punched in early. And as usual, he was beaming a jubilant smile that matched his casual, happy-go-lucky air like a pair of shoes. Though this was the only job I’d ever laid claim to, in my book, he was the perfect boss. I spied Charlie’s favorite Grateful Dead jersey underneath his formerly-white, grease-stained apron. I wasn’t surprised to see it. He was just an old lovable hippie at heart. His long brown hair (which was becoming more laden with gray) was always braided in a single, thick strand that cascaded down from the nape of his neck like a rope. I gave it a playful tug as I rounded up some salads, unable to resist the temptation. It was like seeing someone dressed in suspenders that you just had to “snap”.
“Watch it now,” Charlie teased and swatted my hip with a dishrag. He straightened the colorful tie-dyed bandana he was using for a hairnet. “I need to keep all the strands I’ve got.”
I eyed the length of his braid, which stopped just above the tag of his Levi’s. “Trust me. You’ve got plenty,” I laughed and swung my modest dark blonde ponytail at him. “Way more than me.”
Charlie flipped his head like a silly flirt. “Jealous.”
The rest of the afternoon went by relatively fast. The dinner shift was extremely light, but that was to be expected. Pretty much everyone in town was at the game. Charlie kept the doors open until midnight on game nights, mainly to make up for the lost dinner sales.
We knew exactly when the game was over. People began flooding into the parking lot, and then before long, all the bays were full. The Welch Golden Knights were victorious and held on to their undefeated season by shutting down the Princeton Tigers, 42 - 14. Everyone was talking about “what an exciting game it was”, and how “Mike Riverside dominated the Tiger’s defense”. They also couldn’t stop chatting about a fight that had broken out between the two teams after the game. The Chief of Police and several officers had to break it up.
As I’d figured, Kara Leighton was crowned our Homecoming Queen. Apparently Lazarus Xcavare performed the opening coin toss. I heard a few people raving about the speech he gave at halftime, particularly the part where he referred to Welch as being his new, “home away from home”, and his “big plans” for the town.
What a load of crap! I’m still not buyin’ what he’s sellin’ to everyone around town.
Chloe showed up around 11 o’clock. She looked really pretty, though she didn’t appear in good spirits — not with Kara Leighton sitting at her table, pawing Mike every chance she got.
If she’s that brazen with Chloe just two-feet away, how in the heck is she going to act tomorrow night at the dance?
A wave of disappointment rippled through me once I’d realized it was fifteen minutes until closing time and Ty hadn’t shown up yet. Then my overly paranoid brain offered up a thought of i
ts own. All the other guys on the team were here celebrating, so I casually asked Kara if he’d gotten hurt during the game. She claimed he hadn’t, but judging from the way the Homecoming Queen was bouncing around from player-to-player on her shameless flirting-spree, she obviously didn’t give a flip where “her boyfriend” happened to be.
There weren’t too many people left dawdling around after midnight, so we managed to close up pretty much on time. I raced home and crawled into bed. I made sure to set my alarm for 6:30 AM. I wanted to be at Ms. Sutherland’s house bright and early. Of course, I wanted to help her, but I wanted something else as well. Something inside me kept questioning her so-called “disability”. Just thinking she might be faking sounded crazy, but then again, so did telepathy. I still couldn’t shake the feeling I had from yesterday. Tomorrow would be the perfect time to put any of my doubts to rest. I didn’t see the harm in doing a little covert probing. At least this was one of my burning questions I could get a definitive answer to.
As I lay in bed, I had to admit my day was a little more normal than the previous one. For someone who had longed for something other than the same mundane routine that comes with being a teenager in a small coal mining community, surprisingly, I needed that. Though with one notable exception — Professor Tanner Grey.
I drifted off to sleep thinking, What’s his deal? Looks and charm aside, I didn’t know what it was about him, but he sure did leave a lasting impression.
I dreamed about him. It was just a random dream, nothing special or anything. But in it…oh yeah, his eyes were violet.
Chapter 6
