The Evensong (4 page)

When the jingling bells signaled my arrival, she glanced at me briefly, long enough to point to the shelf in front of her, which was half stocked. It looked like Lisa had been doing it before she was appointed my
job.

I got to work immediately, sitting crossed-legged on the floor behind Sharon. It was jam that needed to be shelved, so I started slowly by rearranging what Lisa had already done. I noticed that Meryl and Sharon were talking in very low voices, which got me to shelve quieter, listening in.

“Well I don’t know what he’s going to do,” Sharon was saying, sounding annoyed. “It doesn’t seem like he’d have the money to pay off such a thing, but he handed me over the final payment before I could even mention it.”

“He must be quite the extraordinary young man,” Meryl replied. Carefully, I moved all the apricot jars to the right of the shelf, trying to get in a better position to listen.

“Did he seem happy to be getting it? That place is
huge
for a single person,” Meryl went on.

“Well yes, he seemed very pleased with himself. He wanted to tell me all his plans for the place, spill his guts about it. Frankly, I think there’s something odd about him—no one his age should be living alone like that.”

I had stopped moving, hand poised over the shelf. Could they be talking about
him
? The stranger from the swamp?

“Why, because he successfully lives alone at twenty-three?” Meryl asked, laughing a little.

“No, there’s just something different about him. His eyes or something—I’m not sure.”

My heart jolted a little. Yes, they were talking about him.

“And his name, it was unique,” Sharon said.

“Oh yeah, what was it?”

“Something like—”

The jingling of the doorbells drowned out Sharon’s whispered reply, and I grit my teeth in annoyance. Great timing for some customer to come barging in for a muffin or something.

I looked towards the door, ready to glare, when I stopped. As if on cue, he had walked inside: the successful twenty-three year old with strange, beautiful eyes who inherited a huge home near the swamps.

He looked different now outside of the wilderness. His hair was the same, but he wore clothes that weren’t the same. There were natural holes in his black jeans, a few sizes too small. They hugged his slender waist, and his hoodie was a little loose on him. He was smiling warmly at everyone, and I kept my face down before he could really see me.

“Hello,” Sharon said stiffly. I stood, using my hair as a shield as I walked around the shelf, hiding.

“Good morning,” I heard him say. Even his voice was different; husky and somewhat hoarse.

“You must be the newcomer,” Meryl said, her voice just as cheery as usual. I walked down the small aisle, peering through the bags of granola. I could see the front of the shop from here. Meryl had walked forward, her hand extended as she looked up at him. She and the stranger shook, and I could see black lines on the top of his hand—a tattoo.

“I am, and I heard a lot of good things about this place,” he replied, releasing her hand. “Great organic stuff, right?”

He rested a hand on the counter and leaned against it. His movement gave me a good look at Lisa’s face, and I was surprised to see she was openly staring, her lips parted. At least
I
was hiding.

“It definitely is,” Meryl replied. “Go ahead and take a look around.”

“Thanks,” was the kind reply. I ducked a little when he turned my way, scanning the contents on the shelves. I realized I would have to move soon, so I quietly walked down the aisle and then turned into the next, again peering through the stuff to watch him.

He let his fingertips graze over the things as Meryl and Sharon struck up another conversation, this time about some town things coming up. I kept still, wondering how I was going to get out of the situation without him recognizing me. Or maybe he already forgot he had seen me at all. I was confused by my reaction to that idea; for some reason, I hoped he hadn’t forgotten me.

I was looking down at my hands in thought, and when I looked up again I noticed he was looking at me through the items. I froze up, not knowing what to do. He stood just on the other side of the shelf, stooping a little to look through the things to see me. I took a step back, still mesmerized by those eyes.

“Riley?”

Meryl’s voice snapped me right out of it, and I turned, going up the aisle to the front of the store. I had to pass him as I went, but I didn’t look at him, instead eager to see what Meryl needed.

“Yes?” I asked, wringing my hands against my stupid green apron.

“You can go ahead and take register again. Sorry about that.” She smiled and put a kind hand to my shoulder. I thanked her and slowly went back to my usual spot. I didn’t want register now; I would have to check him out.

I waited anxiously while he slowly walked through all the aisles. He ended up taking one pastry and a gallon of milk before he approached the register. I glanced at him briefly, smiling slightly before I took his items, ringing them up. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me the whole time.

“That’s $2.17 total,” I said as I placed the bag between us. He nodded and fished a ten out of his pocket. Couldn’t people just deal with change these days?

“I saw you at the swamps,” he said as I counted out his change.

“Oh—yeah.” It was all I could say as I looked up at him, hand held out. He grinned and took the change from my palm before he took the bag.

“Nice meeting you,” he called to Meryl. She waved and replied the same as he walked out. He smiled at me before he turned away.

Meryl was on me in a second, ready with questions.

“When did you see him? You didn’t tell me you saw him!” she said excitedly. For all her sense, Meryl still loved gossip.

“I didn’t know who he was, I just happened to see him,” I said. Sharon and Lisa were looking out the shop windows, watching him go. I realized he still hadn’t given his name.

“Well now, isn’t he pretty,” Meryl commented as his car zoomed away.

Sharon laughed. “Meryl, you’re ridiculous. Some twenty-something kid . . .”

“Hey, I can still marvel from a distance, thank you very much,” Meryl retorted as she walked away, going to the back of the store where Sharon drifted.

I let out the breath I seemed to be holding and glanced at Lisa for a second. She had a sour look on her face, and she didn’t bother to hide it from me as she went back to shelving jam.

Talk of the new citizen didn’t stop while I worked. Rene was busy talking about him on the phone when I got home. I wouldn’t doubt it was Meryl on the other line. I’d forgotten how much hype a new person could bring in this town. When I had arrived with Rene, I was stared at in public for about a month or so until everyone really knew me. Few completely accepted or understood what Rene did, but they made it a point to get to know every one of us in the house.

On my floor of the house it smelled like popcorn and caramel, so I assumed Alysana’s room was open to visitors. When she was in a particularly good mood she would make popcorn and smother it with different kinds of sauces she concocted. Usually they were a hit, and it drew the attention of the others.

I was right, and her bedroom door was wide open. Hank was sitting on the floor in front of her bed, his own small bowl filled to the brim. The TV was on, and Hunter had just pushed in a movie.

“Hey,” Alysana said when I stood at the door. “Want some?”

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, stepping over the cat that darted past my feet.

“She got into State,” Hank piped up before Alysana could speak.

“State?” I repeated. Judging by the way her face sort of fell, I knew what he was talking about.

“It’s not where I want to go though,” she said quickly. “I just applied there to see if I could actually get in.”

I forced a smile, again feeling selfish. “Of course you could get in, I could have told you that.”

She was relieved by my reaction, and I sat next to her on the bed, looking into the large bowl of popcorn between us. It looked like a caramel mix this time, and I took a sticky handful as Justine walked in. She congratulated Aly, and started bombarding her with questions about college in general.

I listened to it all for a few minutes, which eventually turned into half an hour. After that I was bored with the movie—which I really hadn’t been watching anyway—so I made up the excuse of homework and left the room. I was about to go back to my bedroom, but I heard music coming from Omar’s closed door. I knew I shouldn’t bother him or go running to him, but if he wasn’t busy . . .

I knocked on the door a few times and waited, wondering if he could hear me over the music. I watched the light under the door until I saw a shadow, and I stepped back when he opened the door a few inches.

“Oh hey,” he said, opening it enough for me to walk through. “Sorry, I thought you might be Hank. He’s been bugging me today.”

I followed him into his room and closed the door behind me. The armchair in the corner was covered with clothes, but he scooped them off and asked me to sit down while he resumed his spot at the desk. He was doing more sketches, this time in pastels.

“Keeping yourself busy, I see,” I commented.

“Oh yeah. I need as many sketches as I can get. And I like to do it,” he added hastily.

“You know, you don’t have to censor college-talk,” I said. “It may not be my favorite subject, but it’s still your thing.”

“No, no, I respect your wishes,” he laughed, picking up a green pastel. “I’ll censor for you.”

I laughed weakly and rested my head against the chair, staring out the window. The sun was setting, and the scattered clouds were a bright pink on the bottom, pale lavender on top.

“I’ll just hate to see you go,” I said. “I’ll be one of the oldest ones here.”

“You’ll have Hunter; he’s old.”

“And silent and brooding. Come on, Hunter’s not exactly the king of socialization,” I pointed out.

“You could make him talk. Once you get going on Freud, he won’t shut up,” he said, gesturing at me with a pastel wrapper.

That was true, but I wasn’t exactly hyped up to talk about Freud. I guess I’d just try to forget about it for now and pretend like it wasn’t happening. It wasn’t the best tactic, but I was willing to try to lie to myself if it would keep me from getting depressed.

After a while I migrated to his bed and leafed through the many comic books he had scattered there. This was a familiar, comforting thing to do. There had been many nights when he would draw and I would read while music played in the background. I would definitely miss that. Who would get his room when he left? Probably one of the younger kids, then there would be room for others to move in. Justine would get Alysana’s room—I stopped myself before I could move on to the thought of Alysana. I could only deal with so much at a time.

Eventually, I started getting tired lying there and reading. I dropped the book I had next to me and closed my eyes, intending to just think for a second. My mind wandered to other things, and I thought of the swamp, the mystery boy, work, school . . . soon I’d fallen asleep completely.

I dreamed I was in the swamp, walking around naked though I felt like I was in a projection form. I felt like the wind and passed by the trees, grazing the moist trunks with my fingertips. I stepped over the ground without tripping, gliding through the water before coming back to shore to run my hands through the moss like hair.

I felt I wasn’t alone in my wanderings, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t feel embarrassed for my nakedness, and I almost felt like I knew the presence. I laughed when I knew I eluded them, whoever followed. Being part of everything, I was hard to find.

I stopped at my normal spot, though it felt different in the dream. I stood on the log, breathing deeply as I held my arms. Tilting my head back, I could feel the movement of everything around me, including the bending of the plants behind me.

Soft arms came around my middle, holding me, pressing me into another body. I didn’t move out of fear, and only leaned back further. I let them hold me, hands roaming over me, squeezing and tickling lightly. This felt safe, secure and right. I opened my eyes to the sky, looking at the trees, then the swamp and my own body. Those hands moved up my stomach to my breasts, stopping at my shoulders when I noticed the dark lines etched into the wrists and knuckles.

Realization hit, but I was still stuck in the same state of mind. It remained that way until the hands were at my temples, and a shooting pain went through my head, starting between my eyes and going back down my neck.

That jolted me awake, and I opened my eyes to the darkness of Omar’s room. I was confused as to where I was for a moment, especially when I felt a light touch on my back. I acted like I was asleep when I knew it was Omar, lying behind me. He gently ran his fingers up and down my back, not making a sound. I acted like I was still asleep and shifted onto my stomach, facing him. Squinting at him through my hair, I looked at his face as he dropped his hand. He seemed sad, about what I wasn’t sure. He watched me for a few minutes before sitting up carefully, trying not to move the bed. He brushed my hair away from my face and lightly kissed my cheek. A moment later, he climbed off the bed and left the room, almost tripping over some of the things on the floor. He left the door open a little, and the golden light from the hall fell onto my face. I lay still until I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore.