Read From The Wreckage - Complete Online
Authors: Michele G Miller
A soft cry, followed by a strangled cough pulls Jules out of the oblivion she's been in. Opening her eyes, she is greeted by pitch black surroundings and the chalky scent and taste of dust. She has a difficult time breathing, and coughs to try and clear her throat. Something shifts next to her and she feels a hand drift up her waist.
West, she remembers.
One arm lies under her, holding her hand while he cradles her back to his chest. His free arm shifts to her cheek and he mumbles incoherently and tries to tug at her top. When the house first came down, West ordered her to cover her face with her shirt so they wouldn't breathe in the dust. Her cheerleading top was too short and tight to pull up from the bottom, so she had to duck her face down and pull it up. It barely covers her nose, and even then it’s difficult to keep it up. She takes small breaths now and tries not to stir the rubble around her face too much.
She moans softly and tries to shift. They only have a few inches to maneuver in under the collapsed rubble of the Victorian farmhouse where they sought refuge.
"Jules?" West's voice is raspy and worried.
"Hmmm?" She feels his heat at her back, spooning her, and she wants to turn towards him. She needs to.
"You passed out. You okay? Are you in pain?"
"Passed...out?" she wheezes with a small cough. She thinks for a moment. She feels alright, and other than the burn in her lungs from her harsh breathing, she doesn’t seem to have any injuries. Thanks to West.
"How...you?" She struggles to speak and wiggles a little more, testing her surroundings. Although her free hand touches sheetrock and wood only inches in front of her face, it feels like they are in an open pocket of space. A pocket scarcely big enough for them.
"Don't move. You might hurt yourself or knock something."
"Have...to..." She pulls her hand from his and with a small groan, pushes herself around. The arm that West has on her waist tugs at her as she twists towards him, while his other arm stays wrapped under her. She feels his hand press over her head as if he is protecting it from anything that might fall on her.
"Wow, Buffy — good thing you're so tiny." He laughs as her face meets his chest and her knee bumps into his leg.
"No...fair. The air seems...cleaner over here."
"Here." He clutches her hand and pulls it to his waist before guiding it up under his shirt. "Hold it to your face and breathe through it," he explains. She notices his voice sounds a little muffled for the first time.
He must have it pulled over his face too, she thinks.
She nods and leans forward to stretch the cotton shirt over her mouth as a breathing mask. Her arm rests against his warm stomach and she feels his hand begin to comb through her hair softly.
"We're gonna be okay."
"How long do you think...we've been down here?"
"Not long. They'll look for us, we'll be okay." His free hand restlessly brushes her shoulder, then her waist and hip before she feels it weave under the arm she has in his shirt. It touches her forearm and works its way to find her open fingers holding his shirt to her face. Jules hears him sigh as he covers her hand with his. Once again, they are holding hands.
Jules wakes up in a cold sweat with the smell of dust in her nostrils. Her hand hurts, and she realizes she's been digging her nails into her palm as she slept. Running her thumb over her palm, she can feel the indentations the nails made.
She glances at the clock and is surprised to discover that Jason isn’t in her bed. The clock says it is two a.m., and she sighs as a tear runs down her cheek. Picking up her cell, she makes an impulsive decision. She pulls up the number added barely a few hours earlier and types out a text to West. She rationalizes that he probably has his phone on silent and won’t get it until the morning, but she doesn’t care — she
has
to tell him.
Jules: My hand misses your hand
She presses ‘Send’ and then flings herself down on her pillow; ashamed for sending it at all. Almost immediately her cell begins to vibrate…except it isn’t a return text, he is calling her.
"Hi," she answers softly.
"My hand misses yours more," he offers plainly, no salutations necessary.
"Did I wake you?"
"Nah, I couldn't sleep."
"Me either."
"So...your hand just wanted to text me? Let me know she missed my big, tough grip?" His voice is low, playful. It does crazy things to Jules’ stomach.
"My hand’s a little whack these days."
He chuckles. "Why's that, Buffy?"
"Two a.m. texts to your hand? C'mon, that's whack."
"First, stop saying 'whack'. You sound like Ruben, and it's strange. Second, you can call me at any hour. You, or your hand."
"Yeah?" Jules asks breathlessly. When did West Rutledge become such a dang charmer? Everything he says is perfect.
"Yeah. I think going through a near-death experience together has earned us the right to be a little needy."
She processes that comment. Is it the experience they went through that pulls them towards each other? Maybe it is.
"I think you're right. Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I only said it so I’d feel better about the twenty or so text messages I've typed up but didn't send."
"Twenty? What did they say and why didn't you send them?"
"Jules..."
"Send them now and I'll reply back." She waits for an answer and when he doesn’t say anything, she presses on. "Come
on
. We're both up, anyway. You chicken...Spike?"
"I don't think we should go there right now, Jules." He sounds defeated.
"Go where? Come on...I'm hanging up and I want a text in one minute, or my hand will be very mad at yours."
She clicks the ‘End’ button with a smile and waits for his text, feeling giddy, similar to a little girl waiting to open her presents.
West: I can't send you the texts, Jules. It's not right
Jules: I want to know what you were thinking. How can your feelings not be right? They're yours
She smiles as she thinks of the conversation with her mom hours ago. Jules scribbled her mom’s words on a piece of paper as soon as she left the room, and she decided they would be her motto.
Just keep going
, she thinks as she stares at her phone and waits for the text from West. She’s about to give up when her phone vibrates. She scoots down under her covers as she slides the lock button and reads the first text.
West: I can't stop thinking about you
Jules: Is this one of the 20? I had a dream about you. Well about us and being stuck that night
West: Hey Buffy... don't reply. Just let me send them okay? And yes, that was the first one
West: You're with Stuart. I need to stop thinking about you
West: I can’t believe you remembered that kiss. I bribed Karen to pick us. Convinced Wes Gruber to make out with her in exchange for seven minutes with you. I'm not even sorry
Jules laughs; throwing her hand over her mouth as she reads it. He actually bribed Wes and Karen?
West: You smelled like strawberry shampoo. To this day I love the smell of strawberries. It’s because of you
West: Why am I texting and saving messages I'm not going to send?
West: I'm crazy, that’s why. Whatever. Where was I? Oh — so strawberries and spearmint. You'd eaten a mint. I saw you pop it into your mouth the minute your name was called.
West: Best damn mint I've ever tasted
West: I was going to ask you out...
West: My mom died two weeks later, Jules
West: So, yeah. Life changed after that. I dropped out of football. I was stupid. I miss football
West: This is crazy
West: Anyway, Stuart moved to town that same summer and took my spot on the team like it was nothing and you were a goner. I don't care what you say everyone knew you had it bad for him
Jules knows he’s right, though she tries to deny it. Stuart moved to town from California and his long, blond surfer hair and style blew away half the girls at school, but he wasn't interested in any of them. He was all about football, and Jules was all about waiting patiently until he changed his mind.
West: Whatever, past is past. Then you sat on that bench Friday night and you were alone for a change. Do you know how often you're alone? Not very. I couldn’t help speaking to you
West: Side note: I think it was that sweet little skirt. Whose idea was it to make cheerleading skirts so short? I need to thank them. Your legs look so sexy in that skirt
West: So there you were, alone and sexy, and I spoke. Then...well you know
West: This is like a confessional. Maybe I need to write in a journal or something
West: Wow. Did I just think about writing in a journal? Grief counseling 101
West: So I miss you
West: I swear my hand tingles waiting to touch yours again
West: What did you do to me Buffy? I'm not that guy
One by one as each text comes, Jules alternates between laughter and tears. She moans and gasps at their content, and each one chisels away the already very thin, weak wall she tries to erect around her heart where he is concerned. When they stop coming, she scrolls back and counts. Twenty. That’s all of them, and now she has so many things she wants to say back…but first things first.
Jules: You're not what guy??
West: The guy who makes a play for someone else’s girl
Jules: Oh
Jules: What if I wasn't someone’s girl?
There is a pause. Her hands begin to sweat as she grips the phone tightly and waits for his reply.
West: You'll always be someone’s girl
Jules: ?
West: If you're not his girl then you'll be mine!
Jules feels the melting she mentioned to her mom earlier. Oh, double chocolate chunk brownie goodness, does she feel the
melting
!
Jules: ...
West: Like I said you'll always be someone’s girl. I’d prefer you were mine but I won’t steal you from him
Jules: I need time
West: Remember Buffy and Spike?
Jules: Yeah, enemies. At first
West: Exactly
Jules: Never in my life have I read twenty text messages that made me feel the way those do
West: I feel like a girl
West: No offense
Jules: Ha, none taken. West...
West: Yeah?
Jules: I miss you too
West: How can we spend four years barely speaking and it doesn’t matter but we spend one night in hell and suddenly I want to be with you every moment?
Jules: Stress, ptsd?
West: Uh oh, did they get you into grief counseling too?
Jules: Not yet, but it’s been mentioned. My dad was talking to my mom about ptsd...apparently a lot of people have it right now
West: Do you think that’s what this is then? With us?
Jules: ?
West: So we take time then?
Jules: Okay, time
West: I'll see you tomorrow
Jules: You better, I'm going to need you
West: You'll have Stuart
Jules: Yeah, I know and he’s great but I figured something out today
West: What’s that?
Jules: YOU are my anchor
Her phone vibrates and she answers without a word.
"Are you kidding me, Jules! Do we
have
to take time? Dump him and be my girl."
"West..."
"No, don't you
West
me. Ask Jeff — he'll tell you! I've been crazy about you for years...I don't want to bide my time anymore." Jules bites her lip at his angry voice.
Stupid, stupid!
she scolds herself. "Damn it, I'm sorry," he apologizes after a brief pause.
"No, don't be sorry. I shouldn't-"
"You just...you can't
say
things like that to me." She hears him take a deep breath before he continues. "I'm trying to take the high road here, but I don't really owe Stuart jack, so if you press too hard I
will
break."
"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and feels the tears start to build again. What is she doing? Stuart doesn’t deserve this, and West sure as heck doesn’t deserve it, either.
Gah
! she screams mentally and has the sudden urge to punch something. "Truly, I shouldn't have-"
"Jules, don't apologize for your feelings. You're stressed. Take some time and things will get back to normal."
It sounds as if he’s blowing her off, the way he said 'things will get back to normal', so she doesn’t reply at all.
"Okay, get some sleep then."
"I’ll try. You too," she drawls.
"Goodnight, Buffy."
"Goodnight, Spike."
"I don't talk about this very often. The day of your — sorry, Tanya's — funeral." Jules thinks back to that day. Her knees were shaking so bad when she got up to speak her eulogy, she thought she might fall on her face as she stepped up the three small steps to the pulpit.
"The church was packed, the same as it had been for every funeral I'd been to that week. Your beautiful white casket sat at the front of the church, draped with purple flowers. I remember I didn't know what type they were, but I could smell them from the pulpit. They tickled my nose."
She rubs her nose at the memory and pictures the enlarged portrait Tanya's parents set up on a gold easel by the 'head' of the casket in her mind. It was from the senior portrait session Tanya had only a few weeks earlier. By the foot stood a large picture of Tanya, Katie and herself at a football game; their huge blue and white bows sticking up, spirit paint on their cheeks. And then another picture of her with her entire family, laughing at something off-camera.
Picturing those happy scenes makes it easier for her to forge ahead and tell the story of Tanya's funeral.
"Once upon a time there were three little girls. These little girls walked into their Kindergarten classroom having never met. They walked out of it best friends for life. You see, they all had something in common." Jules stops and looks at the casket with a small smile. "They all wore the same purple 'Hello Kitty' backpack slung across their little shoulders." The crowd chuckles lightly as she finishes. “Kindred spirits they were, from day one."
She slides a few inches to the left and Katie starts to speak.
"Through grade school, these little girls remained the best of friends. They begged their parents to put them in the same dance classes, and they played soccer together…somewhat miserably, I might add." Another wave of soft laughter runs through the crowd at the joke. "They took tumbling and cheerleading together. They were inseparable."
"Middle school came and went, and never did a day go by where these best friends didn't speak. They talked about boys, T.V. shows and how to pass Ms. Simpson's Algebra class in the eighth grade. See, there was something special about these girls."
Katie clears her throat and Jules squeezes her hand as she finishes her part of the speech. "It didn't matter what came along, they weren’t about to let anything come between them. Tanya was too hardheaded for that. The most formidable of the three, she never backed down from her two best friends. She was the glue that kept them all together when something threatened to tear them apart."
"You see, we are two of those little girls. Me and Katie. Tanya..." Jules stops and swallows hard before looking over at Tanya's family and scanning the faces of friends from school; the other cheerleaders from their squad, the football players. Her gaze runs past Ruben and Tommy. Tommy, who was the last one with her that fateful night. Jeff sits next to Tommy, and next to Jeff she locates West. She didn’t see him before the funeral started. She knew he was there somewhere because he said he would be, but laying eyes on him...well, that makes her close her eyes briefly. When she opens them again, he nods. It’s almost imperceptible, a small nod of support, but it’s a small shot of the strength only he can provide, and she continues. "Tanya was our third. We were more than best friends, we were sisters. And now there are two where there should be three."
"Tanya hated goodbyes,” Katie says. “She told us after her grandfather's funeral several years ago that she never wanted to say goodbye again. Said it was too sad; too permanent. So today instead of saying goodbye to our beautiful friend, we'll say, ‘Until we meet again’”. Katie recites her last line and looks over at Jules to finish.
"Tanya, until we meet again, Katie and I will continue to hold you in our hearts and in our lives. There hasn’t been an event in our lives where you weren't one of the first to know, and now you’ll
always
be the first. We both know full well
you
are the angel on our side in everything we do. How lucky we are to have you watching over us. I'd rather have you here with me, but..." Tears begin to clog Jules’ throat as she speaks. "If we can't have you here, there’s no one we'd rather have on our side up there than you. I love you, Tanya. I miss you my best friend…my sister."
Katie and Jules walk around and down to the casket where they stop. Their backs to the crowd, they both place their hands on Tanya's casket as the song they picked for Tanya starts to play in the background. They picked the song 'You'll Be In My Heart' by Phil Collins from the movie ‘Tarzan’. When they were little, they used to watch it all the time and sing into their little karaoke radios. They wrap their arms around each other's waists and hug for a moment before heading over to Tanya's parents and hugging them, her older sister and then her extended family as their song plays on.
Hand in hand, they walk around to their seat on the second pew. Tanya's parents had insisted they sit with the family. When she sits down she looks two rows back, where her parents sit with Jason snuggled in between them. Katie's mom sits next to Jules, and she smiles at them as they take their seats.
The rest of the service goes by quickly. Jules stares at the casket the entire time, her arm linked with Katie's, as they listen to Tanya's childhood Sunday school teacher speak. A final hymn plays and then it is over. The family is escorted out first, with Jules and Katie following behind. As she passes the row with the boys, they all send sad smiles at her. West is on the far end, but he leans forward and catches her eye for one brief moment as she passes.
Near the back of the church she finally locates Stuart and her stomach flips. He is in the first seat of the row, next to his parents. He leans towards his mom and whispers something before he stands. When they are about five pews away, he steps out into the aisle to meet her and pulls her into his arms. Katie pulls away as Jules’ arms go around Stuart's shoulders. She buries her head in his neck and the dam of tears bursts forth. They aren’t loud, unruly sobs, but soft tears flowing down her cheeks.
"You did so good, doll," he whispers into her ear and tightens his arms around her back.
Jules can tell by the noise passing her, the quiet chatter and sniffling, that people are starting to leave the chapel, but she remains pressed against his neck as he tries to edge out of the aisle. There is a graveside burial to head to next, and although she’s supposed to ride with her parents, suddenly she wants to stay with Stuart.
"Jules, we need to head out," he prods, and pulls her arms from his neck gently. "Can I ride with you?"
She nods and wipes away the tears as she looks beyond his shoulder at his parents. Jules offers Stuart's parents a small wave before they step out into the bright sunlight to find her parents. Stuart's arm rests along her waist; his hand resting on her hip as they stand in a makeshift receiving line. She spots Katie, and together they stand and accept warm words from mourners and several hugs from teachers and coaches as they leave the chapel.
When most of her cheerleading squad walks up, they all step into a group hug. Everyone has red eyes and tissues in their hands, and Jules listens as they speak about one thing or another that stood out to them from the service. Behind her, Jules hears masculine voices and turns to see Ruben and some of the team talking with Stuart.
She excuses herself and steps away from her squad to sneak behind Stuart, where Tommy is standing quietly. His eyes widen when he spots her, and he takes a step forward.
"You did a good job," he offers as she stops before him. "Tanya would have been proud."
Jules huffs. "No, she wouldn't have. She would've threatened to slap us for being all sappy and sentimental."
Tommy chokes on a smile. "You're probably right."
She looks at the black cast he wears on his arm. She doesn’t know everything that happened Friday, but she knows they ran, and when they realized they couldn't outrun the tornado they threw themselves in a culvert with a large group of other students.
Tornado Safety Tip: If you can't get to safety, lie flat and face-down on low ground, and protect the back of your head with your arms.
They were taught that message in school for years, and it's what they did. It worked for all but two of them; Tanya and another Hillsdale student, a senior named Mike Brown who was well known and well liked as a bit of a class clown type. His was the first funeral she went to, last Tuesday.
Apparently Tommy's arm was broken by some falling debris as they lay there covering their head. The tornado went by the culvert they'd hidden in, but it was the debris that turned deadly.
"I really liked her, you know," Tommy confesses; his hand rubbing against his cast.
"She liked you too, Tommy."
He looks past her head and nods. "Hey, my parents are waving for me to go. I'll see you later?" he asks and she agrees, hoping they will be able to talk some more. She stands to the side, behind Stuart and the guys on the football team, when Stuart's mom walks up beside her.
"How are you doing, sweetie? How's your mom and dad?"
"They're okay. Jason is having a hard time, but..."
She starts to say, 'We're all alive,' but it sounds so crude in this situation.
"But it's hard. This is going to take a while to recover from. This town will be hurting for a long time."
Jules looks at Stuart's beautiful mother's face, observing the almost bitter look there. She knows it’s true. She's learned enough about natural disasters in Social Studies and watched enough newscasts to know how long it takes to get over something of this magnitude. But they
will
get over it.
Texas wasn't built on the backs of yuppies
, she thinks. Texas is full of cowboys, farmers and indomitable southern people who take pride in their land and their country.
"You ready to go?" Stuart asks and slips his arm around her.
"I suppose we should," she agrees reluctantly and gives his mom a quick hug as they leave to find her car.
Her parents drove separate vehicles so one of them could take Jason home instead of going to the grave site. She sits in the back seat with Stuart, his hand resting on her thigh, as her mother drives them slowly to the cemetery, following the funeral procession heading that way.
They’re silent the entire drive. Stuart acts a little nervous, throwing small smiles at her whenever she looks at him.
"How was your trip to your grandparents’, Stuart?" her mother asks when the silence apparently becomes too much for her.
Jules feels his hand flex on her leg before he answers. "It was nice. Obviously, they were so relieved we were safe. You know my mother, too — she's having a hard time dealing with the chaos here."
"Aren't we all?" Jules murmurs more to herself than to them. Her mom nods in agreement; whether it is with Stuart or Jules’ own comment, she isn’t sure.
"Can you come back to my house after the service?" Stuart asks softly, and it takes Jules a moment to realize he is talking to her.
"There's a reception at the Rivera's house afterwards."
"Oh...well can we go for a bit, and then you come back with me?"
"I guess. Mom?"
"Of course you can, hun."
Stuart gives her another nervous smile before he looks out the window. Jules follows suit and watches out the window as they pull into the cemetery and park.
She looks at the backs of the people in front of her, wearing black and crossing the grass to Tanya's final resting place. When she steps out of the car, Stuart reaches for her hand, but she feigns needing to fix her hair and he ends up stuffing his hands in his pockets instead. She crosses her arms over her chest and rubs the non-existent chills from her bare arms.
Tanya's parents picked a beautiful spot next to a pond, with huge shade trees and benches along a path. As they move closer to the plot, she scans the crowd and the many faces of her friends. She notes arms wrapped around waists and shoulders with hands clasped tightly. People she never knew were friends are holding onto each other. Once again, she is struck with the way this event has changed everything.
Out of the corner of her eye, she finds a dark head of messy hair standing in the middle of the crowd. He’s taller than most of the students he stands by, which makes him easy to recognize. She never paid much attention to how much he'd grown over the years. He’s probably a good three inches taller than Stuart and a head taller, if not more, than the girls around him.
She stops walking when she sees him, and a strange jolt of jealousy streams through her as she watches him wrap an arm around the shoulders of the girl next to him. The girl has straight blonde hair with a black, lace-looking headband on, but she can’t get a look at her face to know who it is.
"Jules?"
Turning away from West's profile, she looks at Stuart. "I need to sit with the family. Mrs. Rivera asked me and Katie to sit there," she remembers; placing her hand on his arm lightly. "Sorry; I should have told you before.
"Oh." He looks around and nods his head towards a group of their friends. "I'll be with the guys, then."
They stand there for a moment and Jules recognizes how truly awkward things seem between them. Trying to cover it, she steps to him and places a light kiss on his cheek before walking towards Tanya's family.
The burial service is much like the other three she's been to this week. A few last words, biblical passages, tearful moments watching family members remove flowers from the large bouquet draped over a gleaming casket. Jules scans the faces of the crowd a few times, although she takes great care to keep from looking directly at West. She finds her mother, who offers her a weak, tearful smile. Stuart, who is standing with Jeff, Ruben and Tommy, never meets her glances when she looks his way. He looks deep in thought, staring up at the sky and trees or with his head bent slightly towards the ground.
She knows a moment of surprise as her eyes drift past Carter, Tanya's summer fling. Similar to everyone else around him, he looks somber. Beside him stands a younger girl whose eyes look red and puffy. At closer inspection, Jules notices how much she resembles Carter and guesses the girl might be his sister or some other close family member. She wonders why he would bring her here, and then wonders why
he
is even there, but discards those thoughts almost immediately. She knew they’d had a relationship, regardless of how brief it was. She’s glad he came to say goodbye to her.