Someone had hung red CD's from the trees. They had looped string through the CD's and then just flung the ends up into the tangled mess of branches. The CD's must have been either the same CD or someone had spray painted them bright red. Either way, the effect was oddly festive, especially from the road.
In the dark, she couldn't see the CD's. Everything was blue and black, the only light coming from the distant windows of Tom's mother's house and the tips of lit cigarettes traveling to and from teenage lips. She could make out the warm mist of her own breath in the late October air, and she hugged her chest tighter, remembering how she and her sister used to pretend they were smoking when they breathed out into the cold. Now that she was standing with a group of smokers, her breath didn't resemble the smoke at all.
Jesse offered her a cigarette and she took it, anxious to look calm and confident, as though she smoked and stood out in the dark and the cold for no reason on a daily - um - nightly basis. She hated cigarette smoke. She hated the dark and the cold. But Jesse, she liked.
Some of the guys and a couple of the girls were sipping beer from a smuggled six pack. When Tom extended one to Jesse he shook his head and put his arm around her shoulders. She could feel the warmth of him through her jacket. She could smell his soap, even though the smoke.
The talk was mostly about guys they knew, about people they knew who could drive, and about how to get pot. She didn't have much to contribute, so she did her best to laugh at all the right places and look like she was smoking the cigarette in her fingers. After awhile, Jesse leaned over and plucked it from her, taking a deep drag and lighting the tip bright red. "Smoking's a nasty habit," he whispered in her ear. "If you don't smoke already, you probably shouldn't start." He pulled her closer as he finished off her smoke.
Her mother thought she was at Heather's. She wasn't worried about her mother calling, and she knew Heather would cover for her because she had covered for Heather on more than a few afternoons while she met with her own boyfriend, Jackson, in his car. Jackson seemed really old for Heather, but whatever. Heather had her own life. And now she was returning the favor. Which made it all worth it.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Driving
The road looked different.
She hadn't actually expected to make it out of the driveway, but the minivan easily turned with the road instead of sliding into the trees, as she had expected. She didn't know what she would have done if that had happened. She couldn't even think about the consequenses of that one. She wouldn't have been hurt, no. It was a driveway. But if the car had been damaged, if she had been unable to get out, and if she had had to explain how her car came to be here, in this particular driveway, at this particular time of day... well, she wouldn't have been able to do it. So when she pulled out into the road, she was distracted. She could feel her fingers tingling and her heart thumping and thoughts flooding her brain. "I almost lost everything," she thought. And of course she was right. It was too risky. It would have to stop. She couldn't come here anymore. It would just be that simple. Jared would understand when she didn't call him. She would start shopping at the Shaws instead of the FoodMart. He might never run into her by accident.
She wasn't sure, at first, if the road looked different because of her new outlook on life or because of the snow. Everything always looked different in the snow, but she had seen snow before. She had seen this road in snow before. It wasn't until a tree branch hit her winshield that she realized it was the ice.
It was a pine tree, one with the long, soft needles. She expected a soft brushing noise, but instead the branch hit with a sharp THUD and the winshield cracked. "My God!" she cried out. She slowed even more, glancing at the clock. She was going to be late picking up her kids. "Well, I probably won't be the only one," she thought. The road wasn't too bad, but broken branches lay in the road.
She kept having to avoid them - they were big branches. Around each one was what looked like broken glass. At first she thought some other poor driver had had their winsheild really smashed, then she saw it was ice. Ice. Ice coated each branch, each pine needle, each remaining leaf. That's why the branches were so low - the weight of it all. That's why her car winsheild had broken. The weight of the branch...
It did look beautiful though.
Leave it to nature to make the beautiful so deadly. Wind, water, ice, snow... all so pretty. All so seemingly innocent. But you wouldn't want to be stuck in it. She glanced over and was able to see that each blade of grass in a yard was covered with it's own ice armor. In the bushes, each leaf was coated in ice. She would be able to take off the ice, and have perfect ice leaves in the palm of her hand.
That's what she was noticing when her car tire hit the branch in the road. She braked, but the car kept going, swerving diagonally. She heard the soft whump of the tires hitting the snow on the side of the road, and closed her eyes as the minivan fell down an incline, into a pile of rocks.
Less than two minutes later another car passed. The couple in the car noticed the branch and avoided it. They also noticed the freshly broken trees, but didn't see a car or any lingering evidence of a crash. They assumed, without thinking of it, that the accident had been a small one, and that no people had been seriously harmed.
That night the temperature dropped below zero and stayed there for three days. Before the cold snap was over, posters covered the town and those surrounding asking for information on her wherabouts.
She hadn't actually expected to make it out of the driveway, but the minivan easily turned with the road instead of sliding into the trees, as she had expected. She didn't know what she would have done if that had happened. She couldn't even think about the consequenses of that one. She wouldn't have been hurt, no. It was a driveway. But if the car had been damaged, if she had been unable to get out, and if she had had to explain how her car came to be here, in this particular driveway, at this particular time of day... well, she wouldn't have been able to do it. So when she pulled out into the road, she was distracted. She could feel her fingers tingling and her heart thumping and thoughts flooding her brain. "I almost lost everything," she thought. And of course she was right. It was too risky. It would have to stop. She couldn't come here anymore. It would just be that simple. Jared would understand when she didn't call him. She would start shopping at the Shaws instead of the FoodMart. He might never run into her by accident.
She wasn't sure, at first, if the road looked different because of her new outlook on life or because of the snow. Everything always looked different in the snow, but she had seen snow before. She had seen this road in snow before. It wasn't until a tree branch hit her winshield that she realized it was the ice.
It was a pine tree, one with the long, soft needles. She expected a soft brushing noise, but instead the branch hit with a sharp THUD and the winshield cracked. "My God!" she cried out. She slowed even more, glancing at the clock. She was going to be late picking up her kids. "Well, I probably won't be the only one," she thought. The road wasn't too bad, but broken branches lay in the road.
She kept having to avoid them - they were big branches. Around each one was what looked like broken glass. At first she thought some other poor driver had had their winsheild really smashed, then she saw it was ice. Ice. Ice coated each branch, each pine needle, each remaining leaf. That's why the branches were so low - the weight of it all. That's why her car winsheild had broken. The weight of the branch...
It did look beautiful though.
Leave it to nature to make the beautiful so deadly. Wind, water, ice, snow... all so pretty. All so seemingly innocent. But you wouldn't want to be stuck in it. She glanced over and was able to see that each blade of grass in a yard was covered with it's own ice armor. In the bushes, each leaf was coated in ice. She would be able to take off the ice, and have perfect ice leaves in the palm of her hand.
That's what she was noticing when her car tire hit the branch in the road. She braked, but the car kept going, swerving diagonally. She heard the soft whump of the tires hitting the snow on the side of the road, and closed her eyes as the minivan fell down an incline, into a pile of rocks.
Less than two minutes later another car passed. The couple in the car noticed the branch and avoided it. They also noticed the freshly broken trees, but didn't see a car or any lingering evidence of a crash. They assumed, without thinking of it, that the accident had been a small one, and that no people had been seriously harmed.
That night the temperature dropped below zero and stayed there for three days. Before the cold snap was over, posters covered the town and those surrounding asking for information on her wherabouts.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Change
She didn't take the breakup well.
Her best friend was surprised. After all, she said, didn't YOU break up with HIM? He wasn't cheating on you. He didn't leave you. In fact he cried, CRIED, sobbing and pleading with you to take him back, leaving embarassing messages on your answering machine promising he'd be a better... what? Person? Boyfriend? That was the issue, wasn't it. It wasn't him, it was you, so why are you so upset?
She just didn't get it.
Lauren cut her long hair boy short. She bleached it, then colored it red. She gained five pounds, then lost fifteen. She started running in the mornings before work. One mile. Then two. Three. Five. Soon she was waking up at five thirty so that she could run for two hours, hardly giving her enough time to shower and get to work before nine.
Work. At first she spent more time at work, putting in twelve, fourteen, sixteen hour days. Then she abrubtly stopped. She became more efficient instead, and left at exactly six PM so that she could spend some time at home with her cat.
Oh, yeah. She got a cat.
She became addicted to Survivor, then went months without turning the TV on at all. She read instead, selecting biographies of presidents and historical non-fiction that she would set aside after the first hundred pages or so. She took a yoga class, then a kickboxing class... she took a course at the community college on money management, and then impulsively signed up for another on begining automechanics, which dropped after only one class.
She bought new makeup and new clothes, trying to appear sophisticated, then girlish, then casual, then finally giving up altogether and wearing the same jeans and sweatshirt any day she wasn't required to be presentable.
Eventually he stopped calling and leaving messages, and she knew he was somewhere else, hating her, maybe even with another girl. He probably even felt sorry for her by now. How sad she was.
She had thought it was what she wanted. She wanted a boyfriend. She wanted a house. She wanted to get married and to have four kids and to go to soccer games and cheer on the sidelines with all the other parents. She wanted living rooms full of toys and the chaos that kids inevitably brought. She had seen it happen to her friends as one by one, or two by two really, they became parents themselves.
But when it came right down to it, she wasn't ready.
She couldn't do it.
When it was there before her, she had crumpled it up and thrown it away.
But really how was she supposed to be a parent when she had no idea who she was? She was still trying to figure it all out. She was waiting for it all to settle. And it wasn't settling. The more she tried to find what was comfortable the more her life seemed turned upside down.
And now she wasn't even dating anyone, which was probably a good thing, since her old boyfriend was something of a drip. The messages - sheesh. It's one thing to want to get back together, but golly gee, don't cry like a baby and beg. It's just so unmanly.
Her best friend was surprised. After all, she said, didn't YOU break up with HIM? He wasn't cheating on you. He didn't leave you. In fact he cried, CRIED, sobbing and pleading with you to take him back, leaving embarassing messages on your answering machine promising he'd be a better... what? Person? Boyfriend? That was the issue, wasn't it. It wasn't him, it was you, so why are you so upset?
She just didn't get it.
Lauren cut her long hair boy short. She bleached it, then colored it red. She gained five pounds, then lost fifteen. She started running in the mornings before work. One mile. Then two. Three. Five. Soon she was waking up at five thirty so that she could run for two hours, hardly giving her enough time to shower and get to work before nine.
Work. At first she spent more time at work, putting in twelve, fourteen, sixteen hour days. Then she abrubtly stopped. She became more efficient instead, and left at exactly six PM so that she could spend some time at home with her cat.
Oh, yeah. She got a cat.
She became addicted to Survivor, then went months without turning the TV on at all. She read instead, selecting biographies of presidents and historical non-fiction that she would set aside after the first hundred pages or so. She took a yoga class, then a kickboxing class... she took a course at the community college on money management, and then impulsively signed up for another on begining automechanics, which dropped after only one class.
She bought new makeup and new clothes, trying to appear sophisticated, then girlish, then casual, then finally giving up altogether and wearing the same jeans and sweatshirt any day she wasn't required to be presentable.
Eventually he stopped calling and leaving messages, and she knew he was somewhere else, hating her, maybe even with another girl. He probably even felt sorry for her by now. How sad she was.
She had thought it was what she wanted. She wanted a boyfriend. She wanted a house. She wanted to get married and to have four kids and to go to soccer games and cheer on the sidelines with all the other parents. She wanted living rooms full of toys and the chaos that kids inevitably brought. She had seen it happen to her friends as one by one, or two by two really, they became parents themselves.
But when it came right down to it, she wasn't ready.
She couldn't do it.
When it was there before her, she had crumpled it up and thrown it away.
But really how was she supposed to be a parent when she had no idea who she was? She was still trying to figure it all out. She was waiting for it all to settle. And it wasn't settling. The more she tried to find what was comfortable the more her life seemed turned upside down.
And now she wasn't even dating anyone, which was probably a good thing, since her old boyfriend was something of a drip. The messages - sheesh. It's one thing to want to get back together, but golly gee, don't cry like a baby and beg. It's just so unmanly.
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