G-157 (4 page)

Chapter Four

Saturday March 13, 2010

Population: 406

Aire and Troy had been assigned as partners for a report on Africans. Melissa and Sarah Hadley had a research project for
their
biology
class
on gazelles. Thinking they’d be able to find information for their projects faster if they worked as a team, the four agreed to work together that Saturday in the public library. Melissa and Aire found the other two in the corner table at the northeast corner of the library, a few meager steps from the geography section. Troy grinned at her as she approached, and pulled out the chair next to him, motioning for her to sit.
Aire felt a flush beginning to rise in her cheeks and smiled at him. Her leg burned and tingled as it brushed his when she sat down. For a moment she imagined what it would be like if his hand ran over her thighs, what it would be like if-

“Hey all,” Melissa said as she took a seat across
from Aire. “Are we ready and r
aring to go,” she laughed, and pulled her thick blond hair into a ponytail.

“Oh yeah,” Troy said. “Reports are my idea of a great time.”

Melissa laughed. “Mine too. Oh,” she said, turning to Sarah. “Sarah, I forgot to say congratulations on your brother getting a job at the General Delivery. I’m so happy for him.”

“Me too,” Sarah said. “Mike is so excited to finally get a job. He’s been on the list for years now.”

“Good for him,” Troy nodded.

“What about Mrs. Jacobs?” Aire said, her fists beginning to clench.
All fantasies of Troy vanished as anger began to swell within her.

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“I mean, yeah cool Mike gets a job,” she said, the heat rising in her face beginning to quicken her words. “But Mrs. Jacobs gets her whole life taken away from her. How is that fair?”

“Aire,” Melissa said.

“No,” she continued. “It just makes no sense why the army would want a forty-seven year old woman who bakes cookies. No sense at all.”

“What the heazy
,
dude?” Melissa said. “Why are you getting all worked up over nothing? The army is a good thing and we should all be happy to make those sacrifices. Besides, you know the army only recruits people with moxy. It’s a compliment to the recruited person really.”

“Moxy?” Aire said, her eyes widening. “Moxy? What does that word even mean?”

“It’s a…” Melissa said, waving her hand in a c
ircular motion. “You know, like…you know,
i
t
’
s moxy.”

Aire shook her head, sucking in air to cool the
simmering
heat
coursing in her veins
. “Sorry, never mind. Congratulations on your brother’s job.”

“Thanks,” Sarah said.

The quartet quieted to begin their work drawing outlines, brainstorming topics, assigning workloads. A quiet half hour passed as Aire flipped through the pages of a water stained geography book, writing down notes and citing sources. The heat had dissipated, her mind clearing as she delved into the project. Mrs. Jacobs had been sent to the back of her mind, but the African had moved forward.

“Hey, Troy,” she said. “If the Africans went extinct over a thousand years ago, why is there a photograph of
one of
them in our book?”

“What?” he said, looking up from his notebook.

“I mean, cameras weren’t invented until little over hundred years ago, so how could you take a picture of an extinct species nine hundred years before that?”

“Oh,” Troy said. “Maybe it isn’t really a photograph. Maybe it’s a really good drawing. Remember how at last year’s art contest everyone thought Nick Lanning’s picture had been a photograph instead of a drawing because it was so realistic? Maybe that’s what it is.”

She turned her textbook towards Troy and pointed at the caption below the picture. “Then why would it say
photographed
by Elosha Vans?”

“It’s probably a misprint,” Melissa said. “People make mistakes you know. It’s not a big deal. And why are you even thinking about that anyway? Does the picture really matter?”

“You’re right,” she sighed, and picked up the book to hide her face within its pages. “It was a silly thought. Forget I mentioned it.”

She slumped back in her chair and stared at the picture as the others went back to their reading. She looked closer at the photograph. It
was
a photograph. She could see the glare of the sun that caught on the lens, the haziness in the top corner from overdevelopment. And since it
was
a photograph, that meant Africans
couldn’t
have gone extinct so long ago, but why the lie? Why lie to students about the history of Africans? Did this mean they in fact still existed? Or was there another story behind their extinction someone didn’t want them to know about? What bothered her even more than the lie behind the picture was that she seemed to be the only one questioning it.

She felt something graze her skin. Without looking up from his book, Troy had pushed a slip of paper under her elbow.

-I don’t think it’s a silly thought. I think it’s brilliant, just like you-

He gave her that sideways grin that drove her crazy, and suddenly the African faded from her mind as a smile tugged at her lips. She saw Melissa wink at her, and Sarah put a hand over her mouth to cover up a smile. Aire found
herself
grinning, and was happy to have something good to talk about when they finished their studies, something Sarah and Melissa actually understood
.

***

The afternoon had warmed up enough to make jackets uncomfortable, and the girls had taken them off and tied them around their waists. Books in hand, the three talked excitedly as they made their way down Main Street past
Parson’s Pharmacy (no one knew who Parson was) and Lola’s Fine Fashion (no one knew who Lola was either, but the store had the coolest clothes the town could offer a teenage girl, which wasn’t much, but undoubtedly better than the shirts they sold in JT Threads, which looked and felt like burlap sacks)
towards Maggie’s, the only burger and ice cream shop in John’s Town.
Some of the few old timers left did know Maggie. Aire’s generation only knew that she had been Bowie Sandoval’s grandmother and that she cooked the best fried green chili burgers in the Community.

The early spring breeze blew Melissa’s blonde hair around her face
as they passed the Yarn Barn
, and she carelessly brushed the strands away as she asked about Aire’s new
development
with Troy. She was disappointed he
couldn’t come with them because
had to go home to babysit his little brother
while his parents placed their quarterly orders at the General Delivery
, but pleased she could
have a little girl time to
talk about their recent encounter.

“Oh my gosh, Aire! That is so exciting that Troy finally passed you a note. That means he wants you to be his girlfriend. What did it say?” Melissa asked.

“I bet you it was a love confession,” Sarah
giggled
.

“It kind of was,” Aire smiled. “He said I was brilliant and that’s why he liked me.”

Their high pitched squeals startled the old wo
man asleep on the front porch of the Book Cellar in
her rocking chair at the corner of Main and Fourth Street. Mrs. Amos jutted up with a start, sending a fat grey tomcat tumbling from her lap.

“What are you girls disturbing the peace about?” she called
from the pristine white porch decorated with potted plants in every corner
.

“Troy gave Aire a love note,” Sarah said.

“Yeah,” Melissa added. “And he’s going to let her wear his practice jersey next week.”

“That so?” Mrs. Amos said. She removed her half moon glasses from her tiny nose and began to clean them on her sleeve as she rocked. “Yes that Troy Culver is a nice young man. You just be sure the bubbles don’t drown your brain and keep up with your studies, you hear me, Aire?”

“Yes ma’am,” Aire said as she held up her books. “We just came from the library. I was doing research for a report on Africans.”

Mrs. Amos grimaced. “Africans, eh? Worthless creatures, they were. Savages, all of ‘em. Good riddance I say. Silly to even put them in the school books.”

Aire frowned. “What do you mean
,
good riddance?”

“Nothing. Silly as it may be,” the old woman said, waving her hand in the air. She replaced her glasses at rest on the tip of her nose before continuing. “You be sure to keep up with your studies. Work first, then frivolous things like boys.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Aire said. She looked at Melissa and Sarah’s unchanged smiles. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

Mrs. Amos bid them farewell, and Melissa and Sarah returned to their conversation, Aire now half listening as they continued on Main. They passed the old brick building of
Tinker Trinkers
, and made a right onto Bourbon, finally reaching Maggie’s a half a block down the street.

They sat on the terrace of Maggie’s enjoying their late lunch and looking out across the street to the sprawling lawn of City Hall where volunteers were hard at work decorating for the kick off dinner of the upcoming Moto. Each year John’s Town came alive for the annua
l event the citizens anxiously
waited for all year. Already streamers in the blue and gold of the town’s colors hung from the large gazebo in the center of the immaculate two acre lawn. Miniature cardboard motorcycles sparkling with glitter in matching colors hung from the handrails, and blue and gold lights interlaced the tree limbs and bushes for night celebrations. The volunteers were now on to the task of erecting the small stage where the high school band would play and the winners of the races would receive their trophies. By Thursday afternoon the evenly cut lawns would be blanketed in picnic tables adorned with blue and gold checkered tablecloths, and by nightfall would be swarming with people and
the intoxicating aroma of catered entrees
.

A
n iron statue of former President Johnson s
tood watch over
t
he town announcement board next to the center walk leading from Bourbon Street to City Hall. For the last month a two foot tall whiteboard reflected the days remaining until The Moto began. Sarah nudged Aire’s arm and motioned towards the board.

“Only five days left until you get to wear Troy’s practice jersey.”

“I know, I’m excited,” she said, grinning as she sipped her milkshake.

“Is Troy picking you up?” Melissa asked.

Aire frowned. “I don’t think so.”

“What?” Sarah and Melissa said in unison.

“No,” Melissa said, waving her finger as she swallowed a fry. “No way. A boy does not ask you to wear his jersey and slip you a note without offering to pick you up as his date for the kick off dinner.”

“Yeah,” Sarah added. “You need to go over there tonight and tell him he has to take you. It isn’t right if he doesn’t pick you up.”

“Right,” Aire nodded. “Tonight I’ll-“

Ambulance sirens cut her short, and the trio searched to see where the wails blasted from. A streak of red and white blazed between the buildings on Commerce Street
, and Aire felt a shiver of cold splash across her skin. Ambulances made her feel afraid because most of the time their passengers never returned. She craned her neck to watch it as
i
t continued east, and judging from the diminishing wails,
it
had turned south onto Buffalo Trail.

“I think it’s going for Becky Baker,” Melissa said. “Her baby is due any time now.”

“Hopefully the baby comes out alright,” Aire said, returning to her fried zucchini.

“The baby?
” Sarah said. “What about poor Becky? From the looks of her that baby is going to weigh at least twenty pounds!”

“That sucks,” Melissa said.

“Seriously,” Sarah agreed. “She’s going to be gone for like a month and will miss The Moto.”

“Why don’t we go visit her in the hospital?” Aire said.

“Aire
,
what is wrong with you? You know we don’t go visit people in the hospital. It’s not just against the rules, it’s rude
. I swear,” Melissa said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
“
Why would you want to go to that horrible place
anyway
?”

“Well, pregnant ladies are in the hospital for a really long time. Don’t you think they get lonely and miss their families?”