Just Plain Weird (7 page)

         
She turned off at the next exit ramp, and pulled onto a road that ran through a mostly wooded area. Towering trees squeezed in from both sides of the road, on which there was little traffic-- only an occasional car or truck passed going in the opposite direction. She sat behind the wheel, scanning the area ahead as though looking for some kind of sign or landmark.

         
“Where are we going?” I asked.

         
“Nowhere in particular,” she said, but her words didn’t ring true; there was now too much purpose in her manner. She glanced over at me, and must have seen that I didn’t believe her, because she added, “When we moved down here, we got lost and found this place by accident. It’s very peaceful, actually. There.” She pointed ahead, at where a large potato-shaped boulder lay off to the left side of the main road.

         
The boulder marked the entrance of a narrow unpaved access road that snaked through the heavily wood area. She turned down the access road, down which she drove slowly, as the limbs of the tall trees formed a canopy overhead and sunlight broke through only enough to dapple the ground. The access road ended at a clearing in the woods, and she stopped the car and shut off the engine.

         
“Check this out,” she said, and climbed out of the car.

         
I followed her to the far side of the clearing. I could see already that that side of the clearing had a distinct edge. I thought that the ground beyond might slope downward, but as we neared the edge, I could see the nothingness beyond, and knew that it was a drop, a very sheer drop.

         
We reached the edge. It was like a cliff. About a hundred feet below there was a body of water. It was like a small lake, only the shape did not seem natural; instead of being round or oval, it was angular. There were no beaches, and the woods closed in on it from all directions except for the side of the higher ground, on which we now stood, gazing down into the hollow. Despite the fact that the water was a murky green, instead of a clear blue, it was a pretty and, as she’d promised, a peaceful place, with the wind whispering through the leaves and the soft singing of sparrows in the trees around us. Far below, there was the occasional plash as a frog jumped into the water.

         
“Sort of like being on the top of the world, isn’t it,” Eliza said, staring down, mesmerized by the sight below us.

         
“What is this place?” I wondered.

         
“Does it matter, really?” she asked. “Do you always have to know what something is in order to enjoy it?”

         
“Just curious,” I said.

         
“Oh, you and your curiosity. You sound like my father,” she said, somewhat annoyed. “Can’t you think of it as something that shouldn’t be here-- like an unexpected gift that we found and can enjoy?” When I didn’t say anything, she looked at me and sighed. “Well,” she said, trying to be patient, “it looks like an old quarry that somebody turned into a reservoir. A river must run through down there, somewhere….” She pointed vaguely toward the woods below nearby.

         
“Oh,” I said, and felt like an idiot for forcing her to explain it. It was becoming clear to me that her gesture of bringing me to this place held some greater meaning for her.

         
She was again looking down at the calm water below. It was impossible to figure out what was running through her mind. She edged forward a half a step, which seemed too close to edge to be safe, and I quickly reached out and grabbed her hand.

         
“Whoa,” I couldn’t help saying.

         
“It’s all right,” she assured me. “It’s solid as a rock all the way to the edge, because-- well-- it’s solid rock.” She laughed at herself, then, at the tongue-tied way her words came out. “It’s perfectly safe,” she said with more certainty, and then added in afterthought, “You can keep holding my hand if you want, though. It doesn’t bother me.”

         
Her hand was warm and soft, and holding it didn’t bother me, either.

         
“You really do believe in fate, don’t you?” she asked, then, as if it were important to double-check.

         
“Sure,” I said.

         
“Because if you don’t, things might happen-- maybe weird things, even-- and they’ll never make any sense to you. Fate explains a lot of unexplainable things, you know.”

         
I nodded, though I had no clue what she meant.

         
“I have to be honest with you, now,” she said. “I like you, Travis. I really do. I usually don’t like people at all, let alone so fast. I’m not sure why-- there must be some reason for it….Anyway, I thought you ought to know that up front. You know if you like somebody you ought never to be shy about admitting it to the person, because before you realize it something might happen and then you’ll never get the chance to tell that person how you feel. That’s one of my rules, anyhow-- because I’m hard to read, and most often people think I’m a bitch. I’m really not, you know; I just make a bad first impression. Somebody like you doesn’t have to worry about expressing their feelings too much. You’re lucky that way. You’re one of those people who are naturally honest-- that’s what I call them, anyway. You never have to say anything, because everything’s written on your face. I know you like me-- it’s plain to see-- though it would be nice to hear you say so. I don’t mean right now, this very second, but, you know, sometime later. You don’t have to say a word now. It’s all right. I can see it clearly in your eyes. I saw it last night, too, despite the fact that at the time I was acting like a reprehensible brat. That’s when you can tell somebody really likes you: when you’re not at your best, and they still look at you that way.” She looked down at her feet, as if to check that she wasn’t too near the edge. “Then, too, while we were driving out here, you kept glancing at my legs. Didn’t think I notice, hunh?-- believe me, I notice everything. It’s a curse, really. Sometimes I think I’d be better off if I noticed nothing. Life is much simpler if you don’t notice anything. I guess that’s why dumb people always seem very happy. Ignorance is bliss, and all that. Anyway, it’s all right-- I don’t mind you looking at my legs. I know you’re not looking at them in a perverted way, but just a natural way. I hardly think they’re my best feature, though; they’re awfully pale, and my knees are too bony. I’m slightly pigeon-toed, too-- I don’t know whether you noticed. It’s not nearly as bad as when I was a kid-- ohmigod, you would have laughed. I had to wear these special braces for the longest time; when I walked around in them, I felt like Frankenstein.”
 
Then she looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read, an expression that was like a blend of all the good and bad things in the world. “I have to admit something terrible to you, Travis. I tried not to like you-- I really did-- I tried so very hard. Is that an awful thing to admit to someone?-- that you tried not to like them.”

         
“Why? Is it a bad thing?”

         
“Well, it would be easier if I didn’t like you so-- easier on you, that is,” she said, and, rolling her eyes, added,
 
“You have no idea how much trouble I am-- how much trouble I could put you through. It’s just the way things are: the sky is blue, the grass is green, Eliza is trouble… And what makes it so much worse is that I’m utterly positive you would put up with it all. Sure, I can see that already. I ought to give you the chance to run away before it’s too late-- that would be fair-- only I’m sure you’d never run. Let me ask you something,” she said, gravely. “If I were to slip right now, would you be able to stop me from falling? Have you lifted enough weights?”

         
I was dumbfounded at the question. I glanced down at her feet, and saw that one of her shoes was hanging over the edge.

         
“I guess,” I said, and tightened my grip on her hand. “Why are you asking?”

         
“I’m just trying to make a point.”

         
“Well, you’re creeping me out, so stop it.”

         
“I just need to know,” she insisted. “Let’s say that there’s a time element involved, and I have to establish a few things fast. Would you let me fall?-- be honest, now.”

         
“No, of course not.”

         
“If you did let me fall, it would be no big deal, you know? Not really. Look, you just met me, I’m a little loony, we went for a ride, and it all ended in tragedy. Tragedies happen every day, Travis. No big deal. Nobody would blame you, I’m sure, and you’d go on with your life. You’d start school in September, join the football team or whatever. Sooner or later-- sooner, I think-- you’d find yourself a girlfriend-- probably one of those mindless cheerleader types-- shame on you-- but you would go on. You’d go to college, maybe-- if you’re knees hold up and you could get an athletic scholarship. You’d probably graduate and end up marrying some ditzy girl who went to college for the sole purpose of finding some guy to marry. About three seconds after you’re married, she’d start churning out kids, which up until then she’d claim she wasn’t the least bit interested in having, and then you’d end up stuck in some boring job you could never hope to leave because you have way too many bills,
 
and so on and so forth, until you’re a decrepit old man sitting on a rocking chair on his front porch, whiling away the golden years, never giving a second thought about the crazy girl that fell into the quarry and broke her neck so many years ago.”

         
 
I started to pull her away from the edge, but when I did, she leaned toward the hollow. If I let go of her hand now, there was little doubt that she would fall over the edge and into the emptiness beyond. There was no expression on her face, whose skin was smooth and perfect and pale as porcelain.

         
“Eliza, stop this,” I pleaded.

         
“I’m sorry I have to put you through this, Travis, but it’s absolutely necessary. I really should come with a warning label.”

         
“Eliza, please--”

         
“‘Please’ doesn’t cut it, bubba,” she said, and starting pulling away harder. “Think of something else.”

         
“What?”

         
“I’m not going to tell you, silly. That would be cheating. Now, tell me what I need to hear.”

         
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. My knuckles were white from holding her hand so tight, and now she was leaned out over the abyss, suspended out in space from my hand and from the traction, her worn deck shoe had on the rock cliff edge.

         
“Think fast, Travis,” she said calmly. “I guarantee, I’m stronger than I look. The next time I pull away, I’m dead meat falling. Save my life. Be a hero, bubba. Think.”

         
“Think what? I just don’t know what to say.”

         
“Say the magic words.”

         
“I don’t know what you want.”

         
“Reason it out,” she said.

         
I thought for a couple seconds. “I love you?” I said.

         
“No, no, no, no… that is just so wrong. And in the form of a question on top of it! What do you think this is?-- final jeopardy? If I live through this, we are going to have such a long talk…. Think, Travis. What are you feeling? What are you feeling right now? Put it into words, and that’s it.”

         
I was feeling a lot of things just then, including scared out of my wits, but I hardly thought she wanted me to start screaming like a terrified little girl. What I was feeling most, though, was betrayal, though I couldn’t explain exactly why at the moment, and so I said, “I trusted you.”

         
When she heard it, I saw a glint in her eyes. They focused on me again.
 
She shifted her weight, then, away from the edge. Her sudden movement, along with me pulling her arm, caused her to bump into me. She hesitated there, and rested her head on my shoulder for a couple seconds, long enough for me to smell the sweet scent of her shampoo. “Bravo,” she whispered in my ear. “My hero.” Finally she pulled away and started to walk toward the car.