Gravestone (25 page)

56. The Nest

“That’s a nice haircut, Chris.”

Iris notices things like this. She’s all about being on time and minding your manners and being
proper
(insert quasi-British accent here). But that doesn’t mean she’s mean or even cold.

“Yeah, decided it was probably time. Mom cuts it, so that’s always a bit scary.”

“It’s nice to not see bangs dropping in front of your eyes. You have pretty eyes.”

I’m not sure how to answer that one, so I nod and smile.

“I assume that means you have big plans this weekend?”

“Not really.”

“Is that a genuine ‘not really’ or more of an ‘I’m not feeling like telling you’?”

“No—neither—I mean, I have a date tonight, but it’s nothing.”

“Your date is nothing in terms of how you feel toward it, or rather how little you’d like to discuss it?”

“I’m doing a guy a favor—he likes this girl who’s friends with another girl who kinda—well, long story. No big deal.”

Iris is holding that leather journal again. It’s thick and looks like it’s from the Civil War or something. I always see her carrying it around. Occasionally I see her writing in it. She places it on the table as she sits across from me. I’ve only now stopped sweating from clearing weeds and bushes outside with a sling blade.

“No big deal for you, or for the girl you’re going with?”

I start to say something, then suddenly feel this is one of her insightful traps. She does that every time we speak, trapping me with some idiotic thing I’ve said and making me eat those words.

“Do you know something, Chris? I met my husband on a blind date.”

“Really?”

I knew that Iris had a son but had never heard anything about a husband.

“Stanley. He was tall and skinny and looked absolutely wrong next to me. We could never fit into a picture together, so how could it be? I did the same thing you are doing—a favor for someone. So you never know.”

“That’s a pretty big leap,” I say, chuckling more out of nervousness than humor.

“Nothing is a big leap in this world. Nothing.”

I nod. I know Iris well enough now to recognize this as her opportunity to share a little more with me.

This is the routine. I work and she feeds me well and pays me well and then we end the day with these chats. Usually I’m trying to suck in air because the elevation is high here and because I’ve been working my tail off. I’m drinking something, and Iris comes in her stylish pants and dark shirt, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail and those wide eyes staring at me in wonder, and then proceeds to tell me a story with an insight.

“If this is but a tiny drop in a vast ocean, isn’t it sweeter if you get to share it with someone you love and trust?”

“I’m sixteen. I don’t think Mom is going to want me to run off and get married anytime soon.”

“I’m not talking about marriage. I’m talking about love and trust. I’m talking about the journey.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know how old I am?”

I shake my head. Mom has reminded me it’s not polite talking about women’s ages, including hers.

“I’m just a month away from turning ninety.”

For a second I don’t believe her. Iris looks old, but not
that
old. She still walks around with energy and life. Her face is full of wrinkles, but not that many.

Is she somehow starting to look younger the longer I’m around her?

“I’ve always been told I looked young. I can see it in your eyes—even you thought I was younger, though what’s a decade or two when you’re this age? I’m thankful for my time here. But as every day passes, I grow to understand that this is like a nest for a baby bird.”

“This inn?”

“This world. This life. We’re born, and we’re warm and secure, but one day it’s time to fly away. And some make it. Some birds are able to soar. Others aren’t so lucky.”

I think of that bluebird that bit me. I still see it every time I come here. It’s like Iris’s pet that guards the house.

“When you’re sixteen, you don’t think in those terms.” Iris places a frail hand over the journal and brushes it as she might the head of a child. “But when you’re older, you have to. When you’re older, it’s inevitable.”

“What is?”

“Remember what I first asked you a couple of months ago?”

I nod.

“It’s easy to put off deciding what you really believe when you’re a teenager. Or when you’re twenty or even thirty. By then, you’re too busy living life to stop and figure out exactly what you believe. But when the shadow of death lingers, you are forced to think of it. And either you believe there is more, or you believe that this is all you have.”

For a second I’m wondering how a double date turned into an exposé on life and death.

“Stanley died when I was almost forty. I couldn’t believe it then. And even now, I can’t believe it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We’d tried so long to start a family. Times were different then. If it didn’t work then, it didn’t work. And that—that was painful. I was finally able to have Jason. But then he died. I still wake up wishing and wondering. Even though I know that this little nest will soon be gone, I still wake up wondering what it would be like to have birds of my own, babies I could have nurtured. But life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Iris nods. “I know you understand this, Chris. Did you know that Jason and I came here after my husband died?” 

“No.”

“I decided to take the money we got from the will and from selling every single one of our possessions and build a fortress that was far away and high enough to get away from the world. I believed we could escape. I believed we could get away from everybody, including God.”

“I thought you said this place was already here.”

“Yes. It was. But I decided to make it my own. Yet the truth I learned—and I learned this the hard way—is that nothing in this world is our own. Everything we’re given, big and small, is a gift from God. The moment we first see light when we’re born. The oxygen we breathe. The food we eat and the water we drink. Everything is a gift.”

“He gives more to some than to others.”

“You’re right,” Iris says to my cynical comment. “And it seems random. But it doesn’t matter. In the end, I’m not going to think and wonder what it would have been like if I had owned this or been given that.”

I think of her husband and her son.

“I do think of them,” she says, as if reading my mind. “But even if we only get a small chance to walk alongside someone we love, even for just a moment—isn’t that a blessing? Isn’t that in itself a wonderful gift?”

I think of Jocelyn.

Yes. It is.

“Tonight might be something fun and ordinary. It might be just another experience you will have in high school. But, Chris—it might also be the start of one of the most blessed and beautiful things you have ever known. So don’t judge and don’t dictate. Let whatever doors open swing open and then walk through them.”

57. The Rest of Us

Oh man.

Or maybe I should say
Oh Dan.

The guy driving the car used to be Dan the guy from high school. But a cologne-drenched, gel-spiked, brand-name-wearing Casanova has taken possession of Dan. This guy is a breath away from ridiculous.

“Hey, man, I got a great album to get the ladies in the mood.”

The hip-hop song begins playing, and I realize Dan has already entered the land of the loony. I think this is 50 Cent’s most popular song, but it makes me want to cringe and duck below the dashboard. Not because of the song itself, but because two skinny white guys in North Carolina are riding with this tune cranking about makin’ love and drinking Bacardi and a whole lot of other stuff I can’t even understand.

There are clichés, and then there’s … this.

“Want some?” Dan hands me a black flask. “My father gave it to me.” He curses before I can ask if he’s serious. “I put some of his gin in there. Try it.”

“I’m good.”

“Come on. Drink up while you can. I know the girls sure won’t be drinking. Especially Kelsey.”

I shake my head, and he takes the flask and sips it again.

I’m wondering how in the world I got to be sitting here in this bad episode of the
Real World: Solitary
next to Dan the Man. If this is any indication of how the night is going to go …

Needless to say, this won’t be one of those beautiful and blessed doors Iris was talking about.

When the door of Georgia’s house opens—well, I might have to take back my thoughts.

Beautiful
and
blessed
are two words that come to mind.

Also
bewilderment
.

Where did Kelsey go, and who is this girl standing next to Georgia?

It’s not like she did some dramatic Disney movie moment where the Ugly Duckling suddenly becomes Jennifer Lopez. No, Kelsey’s already cute. A young-looking, sweet, innocent cute, the very definition of cute. But standing there, Kelsey’s graduated to something beyond that word.

Georgia says hi and acts more excited to see me than to see the dude I’m with. Kelsey still has her glasses on and still stifles a view of her braces with a tight-lipped grin, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t look—

Older.

I’m wondering if Georgia gave her a makeover. She’s wearing stylish jeans and a nice long-sleeved T-shirt. I’m not sure what else she’s done. Makeup, maybe, or the way her hair is a little more stylized and wilder or something.

We make small talk and meet Georgia’s parents, who also seem a lot more interested in me than in Dan. I’m wondering if I’m some special boy who’s been granted a nice evening out because he’s so … special.

We get outside, and Georgia says she’s going to drive.

“I’m not going to leave my car here,” Dan says. His black Altima looks close to new.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about leaving it here,” Georgia says. “You can follow us.”

“Isn’t this a double date?”

Georgia smiles. “It’s whatever you want to call it.”

Then they get into her Toyota and don’t seem to worry about waiting for us. Dan and I climb back into his car and race to follow them to wherever they’re going.

Chili’s has never taken on such importance, such surreality. I’m not sure if surreality is even a word, but if not I’m making it up. Because I don’t quite feel like I’m here eating chips and salsa and wondering how in the world I got to be sitting at this table.

I mean, not long ago I was at a table with Jocelyn and Rachel and Poe.

Remember them?

Jocelyn is gone. Really gone.

Rachel moved away. For reasons I don’t know.

And Poe might as well have moved away.

Now I’m sitting at a table full of strangers and glancing at Kelsey as Dan and Georgia exchange dialogue that seems a little more on the hurtful side than playful.

“I never did ‘go out’ with Brady,” Georgia says.

I still can’t decide if Georgia is full of herself or not.

“You
so
went out with Brady, at least for a couple of weeks. He sure talked it up anyway.”

Dan, on the other hand, is totally full of himself. Full of that and a lot of other … stuff.

“What’s your definition of ‘going out’?”

Dan makes a face like he’s going to say something crude when I decide to change the subject.

“How long have you guys known each other?” I ask Kelsey and Georgia.

They both laugh, and I’m wondering how that can possibly be a funny question.

“Sorry,” Kelsey says. “Georgia and I used to
not
hang around with each other. It was really only at the end of sophomore year we became friends.”

“She thought I was a bit of a snot, and I can be, to be honest.” Georgia looks at Dan. “I have to be. At our school, the guys sometimes don’t get the point.”

“Are you going to be this way all night?”

“If I have to, yes.”

“We started hanging around after a party,” Kelsey continued. “Turns out we have more in common than we thought.”

“Just like Dan and me,” I say.

The girls laugh, and Dan looks at all of us, wondering what I said.

He’s already acting a bit more animated and out of it. I’m thinking that flask isn’t helping.

Maybe I can get a ride home with the ladies.

“So why’d you move down here?” Georgia asks.

I go into the story about my parents’ divorce, but I make it short and sweet. I don’t get into details about my dad finding God and my mom finding wine.

“But why Solitary?”

I can see Georgia’s point.

“We wanted to escape from civilization. It was this or somewhere in Alaska.”

They laugh again, and the more the girls laugh, the more comfortable I feel.

“I’d totally live in Alaska,” Dan says. “Hunt wild animals and live off the land.”

Georgia and Kelsey seem to be laughing with me and laughing at Dan.

“What?” Dan says. “I totally would.”

“Have you ever gone hunting in your life?”

“I’ve shot guns.”

“Yeah, I can totally see you gutting a deer,” Georgia says.

After a while of this, when we’re eating our meals, Dan seems to be bored with being abused by Georgia. He’s busy playing with his phone and texting or something. Georgia is picking at her salad, while Kelsey doesn’t seem too interested in her meal either.

“Not a fan of tacos?” I ask her.

“No—they’re fine.”

“You’re going to have a lot to bring home.”

She smiles in a way that I love. It’s a shy smile, a kind of unsure smile that’s nice to see when so many people in this world seem so sure of themselves. It’s a smile that I can’t remember seeing on many of the cute girls back home.

“Tweeting about what you’re eating tonight?” Georgia asks Dan.

“Telling everybody how my date with Georgia is going.”

“Dream on.”

“The night is young. Lots can happen.”

“If you noticed, we did drive separately. Chris, you’re certainly welcome to come with us to the party later.”

“Come on, that’s not even fair,” Dan says.

“Then mind your manners.”

“What do you think I’m—”

“That includes shutting that big flabby mouth of yours.”

Kelsey looks at me. Before I can get her to say something, she takes a bite to make sure she’s safe from sharing her thoughts.

Dan is the kind of guy who doesn’t talk with you but talks
at
you. I’m still not sure if he’s heard any of the things I’ve said to him, so I’ve basically stopped talking. But when we arrive at the party, I’m able to get away from my chauffeur and hopefully not see him anymore tonight.

I could say the same about Georgia, to be honest. I’m not really warming up to her either.

Kelsey, however—well, she’s a whole other matter.

The party is at the house of some senior. Lots of kids jammed into a small space with dim lights and loud music and lots of alcohol. Kelsey looks more lost than I probably do. After a half hour of wading through people and trying to talk to no avail, she suggests going outside.

It’s cold but not frigid. Winter’s gone, and the promise of spring is near. We walk past newcomers and get to the street.

“Do you mind?”

“What?” I ask.

“Just—staying out here? Getting away?”

“No.”

Kelsey walks in the center of the street, confident that nobody’s coming and if they do we can move to the side. For a while I just walk alongside her.

“Thanks for doing this,” she says.

“What?”

“Tonight.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Dan’s a real winner.”

“We’re bonded for life. I think I’ve heard more 50 Cent tonight than I’ve heard my entire life.”

“Sorry.”

“Please. It’s no big deal. It’s kinda humorous.”

“Do you like parties?”

“Do you?” I ask.

“No.”

“So why go?”

“That was Georgia’s idea. All of this—it was really her idea.”

“Yeah, I can tell she’s really crazy about him.”

“They’ve been that way forever. I could see her marrying him. Like after she has all these relationships with all these other guys, I can see her finally settling down for someone who’s crazy for her.”

“Seriously?”

Kelsey nods. “I’ve told her that, but she thinks I’m delirious. I don’t know. I just think it’s nice to know that someone out there likes you.”

There’s a long pause as we walk.

“Do you—do you miss her?”

The question slaps me on the back of the head. For a second I really question if it’s Kelsey who asked it. I don’t need to ask her who she’s talking about.

“Yeah.”

We keep walking. I know I probably should say something else, or just say something about anything, but I can’t.

She has no idea about the truth. She can’t. There’s no way she can know.

We get to a turn in the road, and Kelsey stops. I can’t see her eyes in the darkness.

“Do you think we’re all the same around here?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“That we’re all just a bunch of rednecks who don’t know anything.”

“Who said that?”

“I heard you say something like that to Gus.”

“When? Recently?”

“It was after a fight in the hallway. Just after you came.”

“You noticed me?”

Kelsey laughs. “All the girls noticed you. Who wouldn’t? The fact that you weren’t from around here just made you more interesting. Chicago, too. That was all everybody could talk about. The girls, that is. And then—then suddenly you were with her. Jocelyn. Of course nobody was surprised.”

I knew that people noticed us together, but I’d always assumed it was because Jocelyn was special, because she was chosen for something awful.

I never thought it had anything to do with me.

“The stuff I said to Gus—that was because he’s a moron. I don’t think that about the rest of the school.”