Taking Off (24 page)

CHAPTER 56

Y
ou know,” said Lea. “Ever since you broke up with Mark, I’ve had to do these graveyard visits with you. I didn’t realize how handy he was until he left.”

“See this stone. This is the oldest grave, I think.”

“You can’t read the date.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why I think it’s the oldest one.” I walked over to another one. “Would you hurry? Why did you wear those shoes?” I pointed at another gravestone. “Look at how long these two were married.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, nice,” said Lea. “What is your grandmother doing?”

I looked toward the creek. “Fishing with her sisters.”

“I wouldn’t eat anything out of that water.” She shrugged. “Of course your grandma and her sisters are old.”

“What?” I asked.

“It wouldn’t hurt them much. Thank you, by the way,” she said, showing me her pink-gloved hands, “for making me these.”

“I can’t believe you wore that to our cemetery outing,” I said, gesturing at her clothes.

“It was one of my mother’s dresses in high school.”

I looked at the polka-dotted, full-skirted dress. “I cannot see her in that.”

“My mom has many parts to her, and one of those wears pretty dresses.”

“One of the first women engineers at NASA too.”

“She’s a physicist,” said Lea, “not an engineer.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked, shrugging.

“Physicists are smarter.”

“You could be an engineer,” I said. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about your math grades and all, but it is true.”

“Maybe after I finish playing, I’ll be an astronaut and go to Mars.”

“They won’t let you wear that skirt,” I said, “in space.”

“Wouldn’t it be fun to see it floating in zero g?”

“So you’ve given up on marrying the Astronaut?” I asked.

“I’m graduating. He’s going into outer space. It’ll never work.”

“That’s a relief,” I said. “I do have to tell you something, Lea.”

“What?” she asked.

I paused. “I’m not applying to UT.”

She made a face.

“I’m sorry. But you were the only reason I was even considering it.”

“I’m not a good-enough reason?” she asked.

“You’re a really good reason. But UT’s not for me.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I figured. I’ll miss you, you secret-keeping heartbreaker.” She looked over at the creek. “Your grandma’s lucky to have sisters.”

I nudged her shoulder with mine. “You have a sister. Me.”

“It’ll be hard to stay close so far apart,” she said, her eyes sad.

“See them,” I said, nodding at the creek. “That’s us in sixty years.”

She gave me a little smirk. “Can I wear this dress while we fish?”

“If you can fit in it in sixty years, you can wear it.”

She laughed, then looped her arm through mine. We were quiet and still, watching my grandma in the distance, fishing in the creek she’d fished in as a child. She’d never wanted to leave.

It was hard for me too, but it was time.

CHAPTER 57

A
nnie,” said Mr. Williams, “can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” I said, while the others filed past me.

It’d been a while since I’d talked to Mr. Williams. I’d never told anyone we’d gone to lunch. They’d think he was playing favorites, which he was, or we were having a torrid affair, which we weren’t. I suddenly realized he wasn’t that much older than Tommy was.

The last student left the class, and Mr. Williams went over and shut the door. This worried me. What was so serious that he had to shut the door?

He sat down. “Pull up a chair, Annie.”

I did. “What is it, Mr. Williams?”

“We didn’t get a chance to talk about Christa McAuliffe before.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding.

“I know how much you liked her, Annie.” He paused. “At lunch at Vargo’s, you appeared to be getting closer to a decision about college. But you haven’t mentioned it since. I wondered if the
Challenger
accident made you think Christa’s dream of flying in space wasn’t worth it.”

“No,” I said. “Not at all.” I hesitated.

“What’s on your mind, Annie?”

I found it difficult to talk about things even when I thought about them all the time. Writing was easier than speaking. “I don’t know if I believe in the traditional view of heaven. But I think the spirit outlives death.”

I heard the door opening. A student poked her head in. “Can I talk to you, Mr. Williams?”

“I’m busy right now, Debra,” he told her.

“I really need to talk to you.” She held up a paper. “About my essay. It’s important.”

“Come back after school.”

“Fine. But I’m a senior. I have to get this done.” She started to shut the door, but then poked her head back in. “I’ll just wait in the hall to see if you have time.” The door closed.

“Don’t mind her, Annie. I want to hear what you have to say.”

I liked that he was so calm, like we had all day to talk. And I knew he must be swamped with the end of school nearing. “Remember my essay about Lear? When I argued Lear’s epiphany had value despite his death?”

“Your best this semester.”

“Well, thank you,” I said in the way I thought grown-ups might. “I think Christa’s spirit, that thing in her that wanted to do this amazing thing, is still with us. And that I can tap into it and use it.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“The hard part has been figuring out
what
I want to do. The thing is, if I stayed here, I think I’d be okay, actually. But I think there’s something I haven’t learned yet. And I don’t think I’ll be able to learn it here.”

I took a breath. “I think Christa might have felt that way. That she had more she needed to learn so she would have more to teach. And she loved to teach. Like you. You love to teach, right?”

“Most days,” he said, glancing toward the door and laughing. “No, Annie, I do. I found what I love.”

“Well, as you know, I love to write poetry. It may not build bridges or fix teeth or explore space, but there must be a reason why I have these words in me that want to get out.”

I could hear the girl out in the hallway, complaining very loudly about her grade to another student.

I looked at the door, then back to Mr. Williams.

He shook his head. “Ignore that. Go on.”

“And I want to study poetry with people who know poetry.”

“And that means college?”

“Yes,” I said.

He smiled. “Do you have the money for it? I remember you mentioning it was a problem.”

“Actually,” I said, “a dentist is paying for it.”

“A dentist?”

“Yes.”

“Annie, you’ve made my day.”

“Really?” I asked, a little surprised he cared so much.

“It’s a teacher thing.” he said, standing. “Well, I’ve got a student, a senior in fact, to talk to, and you’ve got college applications to fill out. And quickly.”

I reached into my folder and pulled out several forms, already filled out. “It’s late, I know,” I said, shrugging, “to be applying.”

He took them. “Iowa, Kenyon, Hollins—”

“I probably won’t get into those this year. I have others too. But maybe I can transfer in my sophomore year.”

He gave the stack back to me. “Well, get to it.”

“I’ll need a teacher recommendation.”

He grinned, looking pleased with himself. “I’ve already finished one for you.”

“What?”

“Just tell me where to send it.”

CHAPTER 58

S
o,” Tommy said, “there are three pedals.”

“I see that,” I said.

“And one of those is the brake.” He touched my leg lightly. “Do you have your foot on the brake?”

I slapped his hand. “Much too close, Driving Instructor. I’ll have to report you to the Texas Department of Transportation and Protection of Young Women.”

“Fine. But it is hard for me to keep my hands to myself when you’re wearing those shorts.”

I giggled, actually giggled. Embarrassing. “So back to driving.”

“Yes, driving.”

“So three pedals. And this is the clutch,” I said, putting my left foot on the pedal.

“Aw, a driving prodigy. Ready to move up to the clutch.”

I pressed it down a few times.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked.

“Trying to get the feel of it.” I pressed it down a few more times.

“Done yet?”

“What’s next?” I put my hand on the stick. “I want to switch gears.”

“Okay. You know to switch gears, you—”

“—I need to have my foot on the clutch.” I pushed it down and played with shifting the gears. I looked at him. “I’m ready.”

He waved his hand. “Start her up.”

We were at Ellington Field, which was an airport that had been here since my grandmother was a kid. Among other things, it currently housed T-38s, the astronaut training planes. It also was where Christa flew in the Vomit Comet, which was what the NASA geeks called the plane that flew parabolas to give the astronauts a few precious seconds of weightlessness, where Christa felt like Peter Pan.

Ellington was pretty much deserted on weekends. It was a good place to practice driving a stick shift for the first time. Especially since Tommy didn’t want any dents in his car.

I beat on the wheel. “Excitement!” I put my foot on the clutch and the car in gear, then turned the ignition. The car started, and I looked at Tommy.

“Ready?” At my nod, he said, “Okay, let out the clutch at the same time you push down the accelerator. Got it?”

I smiled.

He laughed. “Any time.”

I slowly let out the clutch and pushed my foot on the gas. The car lurched forward, then stalled. “Darn.”

“Try again.”

Eventually, I got the car started and we were driving along at a very slow speed.

“You can go faster,” Tommy said.

“But then I have to change gears.”

“Right.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Well?” he prompted.

“There’s a lot to think about. Foot off gas. Clutch. Switch gears. Foot off clutch while foot back on gas.”

“Right.”

“Shh.”

He was quiet this time.

I focused: Off gas. Clutch. Shift. Clutch and gas. “Yeah! I’m in second gear!”

“Yes, you are. Now, third.”

When I got to third gear, it was easy. I drove the car around the narrow roads while Tommy talked to me about the fall of the Roman Empire.

“Those funny Goths,” I said.

“So,” he said. “Any more news about your future?”

“There is!” I said, glancing over at him. “Remember me talking about Professor Gaines, the poet I met? A student of hers now teaches at Hollins University—one of the colleges I applied to. She invited me to tour the campus this summer. There’s a chance Hollins will accept me for the spring semester.”

“That’s great, Annie,” he said, reaching over to squeeze my hand on the steering wheel. “Isn’t Hollins in Virginia or North Carolina … someplace like that?”

“It’s a women’s college in southwest Virginia.”

“A women’s college?” He grinned. “That sounds like an excellent place for you.”

I laughed. “You think so, do you?”

“Yeah. Having all those guys around would just distract you.” He was still grinning, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Good grief, he was gorgeous. But I was driving. I had to focus on the road. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do next year?”

“I may be in college myself.”

“What?” I asked, looking over at him.

He nodded.

“What? I must stop for this,” I said, braking.

“The parents—”

“Just a minute,” I said, putting the car in neutral. “Okay. Now, what?”

“My mom and dad agreed to pay for college even if it is for a degree in education. And more importantly,” he said, smiling, “they’ve agreed not to complain about it.”

“That’s super, Tommy.”

“I have tests to take. There are things to do.”

“Will you go back to USC?”

“I’ve thought about it,” he said.

I was disappointed. California was far away from Virginia. “Are you going back for that old girlfriend?” I asked in a teasing voice, although I was slightly worried.

“And lose you? I’m not stupid.” He gave me a quick kiss. “No, not USC. Maybe University of Texas. Or …” He stopped and looked at me.

“What?”

“I don’t know how you feel about this, but I’d like to be close to where you are. If you’re thinking of Virginia, I’d apply to colleges there too.”

“Really?”

“How do you feel about that?” he asked.

“It would make me,” I said quietly, “very happy.”

“Would it? Because I don’t want to scare you off—”

I put a finger to his lips to hush him up. “I’d like it. Very much.”

He put his hand over mine and kissed my finger. “It’ll take me a year to get my act together. So I’d be applying for fall of ‘87.”

“Wow,” I said. “Look at you.”

“Look at you.”

“Look at me, driving this stick. I should be rewarded. You want to go to Pe-Te’s?”

“What’s that?”

“Pe
-
Te’s Cajun Barbeque House? You don’t know it? It’s famous!” I pointed across the highway. “You can see it. Right there.”

“Cajun
and
barbeque?”

“Cajun barbeque. The pilots and the astronauts hang out at Pe-Te’s. And Christa went there. Because when you fly on the Vomit Comet, you get to go to Pe-Te’s. And since I successfully drove a stick, I should get to go too.”

“Sure. You want to drive us over?”

“Cross Highway 3? No.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Not game? I don’t know if you really deserve a meal at the famous Pe-Te’s if you can’t drive us just right across the highway.”

“Get on your side of the car,” I said, pushing him back. “That’s a challenge!”

“Okay. But I think
you
were on
my
side of the car.”

“Here we go,” I said, letting out the clutch, only to have the car die immediately. “No!” I said, hitting the steering wheel and hitting his arm. “Hey, are you laughing at me?”

“Hey, stop hitting me, woman. Back on your side. And get us,” pointing at Pe-Te’s, “to there.”

I took a breath. “Fine.” I started the car up again and glanced at Tommy.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said.

Slowly I let out the clutch, while accelerating. “We’re going. We’re going.”

“We are going.”

“We’re going!”

“We’ve gone before,” he said.

“Okay. Shh, shh.”

I didn’t let him talk again until we were at the light to pull out onto Highway 3.

“Don’t be so nervous,” he said.

“Because I’m making you nervous?”

“Exactly.”

“The light’s green,” I said.

“Okay, go.”

The car stalled. “It’s all right,” I said. “I can do this. I got it.”

We missed that traffic cycle, but I got us through the next one. Driving down the highway itself wasn’t hard, but it was the slowing down and stopping and starting again that worried me.

At the next light, I looked at Tommy. “What? Why do you look so scared?”

“I’m not scared. I jump out of airplanes.”

“Shh,” I said, as the light turned green. And I slowly let out the clutch—

—honking from behind—

—and put on the gas and jerked through the light. But we kept going and I was happy to turn into the parking lot.

I parked and collapsed.

“Now you deserve Cajun barbeque,” he said.

“And a kiss?”

He leaned toward me. “We could skip the barbeque.” He gave me a slow, gentle kiss, one hand in my hair. And then another.

“Wow,” I whispered into his lips. We kissed again, and then I drew back. “You’re good at that.”

“Come here,” he said.

I put a hand on his chest. “Barbeque, then kissing.”

“Not sure I like the order, but okay,” he said, opening his door.

“Isn’t this cool?” I asked when we went through the metal doors. “It used to be a gas station.” It was pretty deserted.

“Look at all those license plates on the walls, and the signs too. There are thousands.”

“Every state represented, and many countries. Hey, see the dance floor?” I looked at him. “What?”

He grabbed my hands, walking backward, and started leading me to the floor.

“There’s no music,” I said.

He pulled me in tight, holding on to one hand, and wrapped his arm around my waist. We danced slowly. In my ear, he started singing a song I thought I knew, his breath warm and enticing.

I pulled back a little, wanting to see his eyes. “Is that Jackson Browne?”

“Yeah, ‘Somebody’s Baby.’ ” We looked at one another as we danced and he sang.

“Yours,” I said softly.

He smiled and kissed me lightly, still singing between kisses.