Landlocked (A water witch novel) (20 page)

After dinner, Sylvia and Dylan helped me walk Jaron to the door.

“You come over whenever you like. Maybe give Dylan a night off and show us your hand at cooking,” Sylvia said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaron said. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Maribel.” He flashed me a shy smile that matched mine. I wanted to give him a goodnight kiss, but that wasn’t the best thing to do in front of my guardians.

“Yeah, see you then.”

“Actually, we’ve discussed it… and Jaron can drive you to school as long as he tries to make you on time,” Dylan said with a laugh. “Although I won’t blame you for Mari’s terrible tardiness.”

“Really?” I squeaked. He must have really made a good impression.

“Great, then I will see you here bright and early,” Jaron said with a sly wink.

“Okay, drive safe!” I called out of the door as he walked to his car. I turned to go clear the table.

“It’s okay, Mari. You go up to make sure your homework is done. We’ll clean up,” Dylan said, turning me to go back upstairs and headed into the kitchen behind Sylvia.

Halfway up the stairs, I realized that I left my backpack in the entryway and walked back down to get it, feeling like I was walking on clouds. The dinner couldn’t have gone better, my aunt and uncle liked him so much they were actually willing to let him drive me to school. I knew that he was charming, but I really hadn’t thought that Sylvia would change her mind.

The tinkling of forks and plates being moved came from the kitchen along with my aunt and uncle’s voices. “Look at this,” Sylvia said. “His cup is empty!”

“I still don’t see why you of all people had to stoop to spiking his cup,” Dylan said.

What did he just say? I inched closer to the opening to the kitchen to listen.

“I’m not sure why, but I can’t read him.” Her voice sounded annoyed. “But, Cala said not a drop could pass the lips of someone meaning to harm her.”

“Well, she has always come through for us in the past. Now will you try to let her live her life?” he asked.

“I’ll try, but her dating doesn’t feel right... Not with—“

“Calm down, it’s not like she’s going to marry the boy.”

I toyed with staying there longer. But they had stopped talking, and I didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping on such a strange conversation. So I went back upstairs and pulled out my binder. Sometime in the middle of a pre-calculus problem, I fell asleep. That night I dreamed of swimming in warm waters with Jaron by my side.

**
*

“I’ve never seen you ready this early!” Sylvia laughed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, shifting in my chair. I sat in the bay window so I could see him as soon as he showed up.

“If I'd known that all I had to do to make you on time was hire a cute chauffeur, I would have done it ages ago!” She smiled at me.

“How’s the painting going?” I asked, feeling guilty for letting my mother’s portrait slip my mind.

“I have almost all of the paint mixed up, I’m really happy with all of the stuff I bought at Johnny’s. I should start working on it in a few days, maybe after Clarissa’s ball,” she said thoughtfully. “Oh, look who’s here.”

I jumped out my chair and looked out of the window. Jaron’s red car was winding up the drive. The top was up because it was sprinkling. “Hey, I meant to ask you, why the change of heart with Jaron? I mean, at dinner, you seemed to suddenly like him, and now you’re okay with him taking me to school?”

She shrugged. “When I was sure that he didn’t mean you any harm, I decided I could put up with him.”

“Most of the time in relationships people get hurt without either of them meaning to. It’s not like people want to cause each other pain.”

She gave a strained smile. “The world is good, but there are pockets of evil people that pop up like a disease and you never do know.”

“Well, how do you know that he isn’t some crazy person that wants to hurt me?” I asked, watching Jaron pull to a stop.

“I have my ways,” she said. “Now be sure he drives a reasonable speed, get going.”

Dylan peeked out from behind his newspaper. “Mari?”

“Yes?” I asked shouldering my bag.

“We are allowing you to ride in a car with a boy, not park in a car with a boy. Don’t get the two confused, or this set up won’t last long… and neither will Jaron.”

“You don’t need to worry…” I trailed off. Actually that was a very valid concern and maybe they needed to be even more concerned about it. Moving vehicles were safe, unless you were a lot more creative and adventurous than I had the knowledge of being.

Sylvia cleared her throat.

“Um, no parking. Got it.” I turned away from Dylan who looked upset that I even seemed to register the need behind his words. “I’ll be back with Clarissa after school.”

“All right, I’ll be ready for you both,” Sylvia said.

“Both?” I asked, cracking open the front door.

“You know I take any excuse to make you formal dresses. I couldn’t help it,” she said defensively.

“You made me a dress for her ball?” I groaned. Sylvia’s designs were always so beautiful and I didn’t want to wear a dress that outshined Clarissa’s. “How about you save it for prom. I think it might actually be something that I want to attend now.”

“I had a different design for prom… but all right,” she said, pouting.

“See you later.” I waved and ran out to meet Jaron.

The mild rain felt good on my face and Jaron seemed to enjoy it too. “You aren’t yelling about your hair getting wet,” he said.

“Why would I?” I asked, walking down the sidewalk.

“Well, most girls would.”

“Mm, I love the rain. Sylvia used to get after me whenever there was a thunderstorm. I would go out and run through the falling water. She’d tell me lightning was no joke, and I’d tell her I never laughed at it.” I smiled at the memory.

“You really look at her like she’s your mother, don’t you?” he asked, taking my hand in his. How did he stay so warm even in the cool rain?

“I wasn’t even two when my parents died. I haven’t ever known anyone but her. She has made being an orphan something I can handle. I've never felt like I don’t have someone who loves me.”

He opened my car door and ushered me inside. I was expecting his car to be really warm because he was, but it wasn’t. When he slid into the seat beside me, I made a note to tell Clarissa that his door did in fact open.

“I can’t imagine it was too hard for them to love you like a daughter,” he said putting the car in drive. “They look at you with more tenderness than most people give to their blood children.”

I sighed. “I’m lucky to have them.”

He laughed. “It’s hard to remember that when they go overboard with the protection stuff though, right?”

“Yeah that can get annoying, but I think I prefer it to having no one around,” I said, thinking of Clarissa.

“I know what you mean,” he said.

I bit my lip. I'd forgotten he was alone too. On the drive to school, the rain decided to fall harder, and it pounded the canvas top like marbles on a drum.

“So do you want to go to Clarissa’s ball with me tomorrow?”

“Ball?” He tilted his head to the side. “Man, living in the south can be so weird. I don’t own a tux and don’t have time to get one. But I have a suit, if that will do,” he said.

“You in a suit? Yeah, you’ll be fine.” I pictured him in a suit and smiled. “I think you could show up to the Whitehouse in a tuxedo t-shirt and get into the presidential coronation without raising any eyebrows.”

“Only if I had you on my arm,” he said, taking his eyes off of the road for a moment.

I shivered. “It’s so chilly today,” I huffed. I was wearing a pencil skirt and royal blue sandals, not a great choice for the weather. “I like those warm summer rainstorms. I’m ready for cold spring showers to be over with already.”

“Are you cold?” he asked, moving to turn on the heat.

“No it’s all right,” I said, stopping him. He seemed to run a little warmer than most people, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. We were downtown now, almost to school. “So how do you like it here? I’ve been here almost all of my life. It must be hard to move this late in the school year.”

“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to living here,” he said, shrugging.

“Really?”

“Yep, I wanted to stay where I was, but I’m sure glad I had to make the move. I don’t know what it is, but something about this place has won me over,” he said reaching for my hand. I let him take it while I pondered his words.

He didn’t have parents or uncles and aunts, so, who could have forced him to come here? We pulled into the school parking lot and Jaron’s car turned some heads. There weren’t any nice vintage cars in the lot. We had a fairly well off community, but the few kids with really nice cars went for the modern take on luxury. I liked his car though, it had more character than the new sports cars did. I couldn‘t even tell one make from the other, but I knew that his car was a sixties era mustang as soon as I saw it, and I wasn’t any kind of vehicle buff. When Jaron opened the door for me, I realized how much warmer it was in the car than outside. Had he turned up the heat after all, I wondered, looking at the knob. It was turned to the off position. The sound of an umbrella opening snapped me out of my train of thought.

“Can I take you somewhere before class?” Jaron asked from beneath the umbrella he was extending to me.

“I don’t know if we have time. I don’t want to be late on the first day that you’re driving me.”

“It won’t take long. We’ll still be early to class,” he promised.

“All right,” I said, unable to say no with his eyes pleading the way they did.

“Great!” He walked quickly to the east side of school, making sure that I was under the umbrella and not getting rained on multiple times as we walked.

“You know I’m not like the wicked witch from the Wizard of Oz. I can get rained on and I'll be fine,” I teased.

“Well, I don’t want to take any chances of you melting on me,” he said, curbing a puddle that had formed in the grass that bordered the building.

The only thing in danger of melting me was him, but I wasn’t about to say that. He led me through the side door that led to the auditorium. Stepping inside, Jaron collapsed the umbrella and shook the drops out of his dark hair. The lights were low and not one member of the theater club was around. We were alone, in the dark. Every instinct in me tried to drive me forward, but I stepped back, almost knocking over a painted scene from Macbeth.

“Come on, clumsy girl,” he said, smiling at me.

Shoes slapping against the wooden floor, Jaron walked out onto the abandoned stage. Between the way he carried himself and his movie star good looks, he seemed to belong up there.

The auditorium was painted in warm tones, and even in the low light, the stage felt inviting. I walked out to him, running my fingers across the plush red velvet curtain that ran along my right side.

“So why did you bring me here?”

He closed the last two paces between us and cupped my cheek with his palm. “You haven’t figured it out yet?” he asked.

I racked my brain for any reason that this Grecian God would have to show me our school’s less than impressive auditorium, but it was so hard to think with his hand on my cheek. “Sorry, I got nothing.”

Jaron studied me skeptically for a moment then laughed. “Well I guess this will be a surprise for us both.”

He dropped his hand. Trailing his long fingers down the contours of my arm, he tightened the skin into gooseflesh while leaving me flushed and warm. He locked his eyes on mine and seemed unwilling to look away. My heart was pumping like crazy, and I tried to make myself tell him we needed to get out of there before we were too late, or before we started a production of our own; but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth.

Lucky for me, Jaron shook his head and took a step back. “Let’s get going before I break my promise and make us late,” he said, clearing his throat.

He snatched my hand up in his and walked back to the dressing room and I realized why we were there.

“How did you find it?” I asked. I was so sure that he wasn’t ever going to.

Jaron glanced at me sideways. “I might have asked around,” he admitted.

I rolled my eyes. “By ’asked around’ do you mean you asked Clarissa?”

He shrugged, a grin plastered on his face. “It could have gone down that way.” He stopped and tilted his head up, studying the large painting hanging above the door that led to wardrobe. My painting.

It was a depiction of The Old Man and the Sea for the theater club’s production of the classic Hemingway tale. The play hadn’t gone over too well, but the painting had a few fans. At its center was a simple skiff carrying the unlucky Santiago over shark-infested waters. The majestic marlin was tethered to the side of the skiff, picked at by the sharks, the rich colors of the fish ran red, and white bone peaked through its scales. The old Spaniard was wielding a makeshift spear high above his head in attempt to fight for his catch. A switch had flipped in Santiago after the three day fight with the proud marlin and his eyes reflected the wildness of the cresting gray waters that surrounded him.

“I can’t even fully explain how amazing this painting is, Maribel.” He kept his eyes on the portrait. “It is a perfect still of the book, capturing so much of the heart and emotion that’s in it.”

“Thanks,” I said unsure of what else to say.

“It makes me feel small,” he whispered.

I looked at the rather busy painting; everything about it was exaggerated to pull out emotion. “Why?”

He closed his eyes and I thought this was another question that I didn’t get to know the answer to, but he spoke. “Because I feel like Santiago, that’s my life. Surrounded by sharks, crazy and tired from fighting…”

I rested my head gently on his shoulder. “Well, Santiago makes it home, where he lays on his bed and falls fast asleep. He won, he beat the sea,” I said, trying to assure him that he would come out on top of whatever tried to drag him down. But when I looked at him, his face was hollow.

“No, he didn’t save the marlin, he lost. Lost everything.” His voice was caked in emotion.

I wanted to tell him that everything would be okay. That whatever was happening in his life, I would be there though it all, but the warning bell rang loudly.

“Okay, we won’t be early to class, but if we run, we’ll be on time,” he said with a forced smile. After we ran ten feet, Jaron glanced over his shoulder to steal one more look at the painting.

In Art class I continued to teach Jaron painting ‘secrets‘, as he referred to them.

“Now you need to teach me all of your metal molding secrets,” I said grinning at him as he mixed a color with much more concentration then needed.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting burned?” he asked, glancing up from his palette.

My heart swelled under his stare. He was so gorgeous, I had never wanted anything more than I wanted to be with him. I was afraid of getting burned, terrified, but not by what he was referring to. “Nope.”

“You know what they say about playing with fire, right?” he asked, looking up at the clock. “Do you want me to clean your brushes?”

“Sure.”

He took my brushes and walked to the sink. In five minutes, Art would be over and I wouldn’t see him until tomorrow. I was getting a ride home with Clarissa, since she was getting her dress fitted at my place anyway.

Jaron walked me to my next class and leaned against the wall next to the door. “Have fun with Clarissa,” he said still holding onto my hand.

I smiled despite being upset, he seemed as bummed out as I did by the fact that we wouldn‘t be spending any more time together.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow… are you picking me up again?”

“I’ll be there with bells on,” he said, lifting my hand to his lips.

“Will you really have bells on?” I struggled to control my voice.

“If you’d like, I’d never want to disappoint you.”

“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to disappoint me,” I admitted.

He let my hand drop.

“I‘ll try to catch you after school,” he said walking off.

I picked at my food and tried to act like I was listening to Clarissa as she went on about her debutant ball decorations. Every couple of minutes, I’d glance at the entrance to the cafeteria, hoping to see him come through.