The Palmer Pool

23 | Fears

The black dots had faded when I opened my eyes again.  A lemon flavored candy wafer was dissolving on my tongue, leaving a chalky residue.  I was lying on my back on a smooth, hard bench and Pete was gently shaking my shoulder and saying my name.  The small crowd that had gathered around me retreated when I sat up and chewed the rest of the thin wafer.  Pete was kneeling in front of me.

"Keep these, just in case," a petite older woman said to Pete, tucking the multicolored roll of candy into his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking up into my eyes.

"I think I fainted," I said.  I squeezed my eyes shut.  I feared that with any more eye contact, it could happen again.

"You did."

"You literally made me faint."  I sighed.  "Do you realize how ridiculously good looking you are?  It's overwhelming.  Between this place and your face and the light from the chandelier behind you, I must've thought I died and went to heaven."

"I'm sorry," he said while trying to suppress a smile.

"You should be.  Walking around looking like you do.  It's hazardous."  I popped another candy from the waxed paper wrapping.  Wintergreen.  The taste of his toothpaste.  "Then you kiss me like that?  Are you trying to kill me?  I'm hungry.  I guess the Cracker Jacks at the game didn't cut it.  I never ate breakfast either."

"Neither did I.  We fast before communion on Sunday."

"Is it supposed to be more effective when taken on an empty stomach?"

"Something like that.  Come on, let's get some dinner."

We took the streetcar back to his uncle's restaurant, where we were seated at a private corner booth with a white linen tablecloth and napkins.  The polished silver gleamed in the flickering candlelight.  It was still light outside, but the heavy drapery and maroon walls and carpeting enveloped the room in moody darkness.

"So, tell me what you've been doing for the past few weeks."

"Is this a trick question?" I asked.

"What makes you think it's a trick question?"

"I've been careful not to talk about," I paused and glanced around us.  There was no one within listening range. "I haven't talked about when I'm from, because you said you didn't want me to, and now you're asking me to describe a few weeks?  How am I supposed to work around that?  I can be vague, I guess.  I went to work, hung out with my friends, did some summertime things."

"What I meant before is that I don't want to know about what's happening in the world.  I only care about what's happening in your world.  Where do you work?  What are your friends like?"

"I have a summer job at the marina in town.  I haul kayaks and canoes around, pull dead geese and ducks out of the water, pump gas into boats, pump human waste out of boats, and shuttle boaters to and from the local bars.  My friend, Sophie, is the smartest person I know.  And she's gorgeous.  I'm actually glad you'll never meet her, because you'd drop me for her in a second."  He began to protest, but I cut him off because it was the truth and there was no point in denying it. "And Laura is sweet and funny, but in a quiet way that makes me feel like a member of an elite group that knows how hilarious she can be.  Kaitlin is a romantic, free-spirit type.  She plays guitar and writes her own songs.  That's about it.  Quality over quantity, I guess."

"What kind of 'summertime things' have you been doing?"

"Swimming, eating ice cream, napping in the sunshine."  I forced a placid smile to hide behind.