Crooked Smile (WINNER of the MJFA'S 2017)

Chapter 11 - Do It Like Michael

Afternoon and evening passed slowly, and it seemed they passed even slower the more Marilyn waited. She waited for her parents to come home, she waited for dinner and for it to be time to go to bed. She washed her face and brushed her teeth and went to her room. But instead of putting on her nightgown, she re-did her makeup and laid down in bed in all her clothes - and waited some more. She listened to the sounds of the house, all the squeaking and creaking that was so familiar, and that now seemed to never die down. Finally, her parents went to bed, and the house became quiet. And then it was just her and the clock. Marilyn watched it tick, the hands glowing softly in the darkness of her room. She wondered, if her parents were asleep already, when she suddenly heard their bedroom door open and shut, and someone going to the bathroom. From the sound of the steps she knew it was her father. Then all became quiet once again.

Marilyn had been worried she might fall asleep waiting for time to pass, but she was so excited and nervous, that she couldn't have slept, even if she had tried. Finally, the appointed time came. As she got out of bed and peered out her bedroom door, she had the feeling her heart beat so loudly, her parents might hear it through the walls. She told herself that, even if her parents did hear her, they would think she was going to the bathroom, or to the kitchen for something to drink. But every floorboard that creaked underneath her feet seemed to scream in complaint of her betrayal. Cautiously, she unlocked the front door and paused for a moment in the dark hall, her hand on the doorknob, listening. All remained quiet. Then she opened the door and slipped outside.

Moonlight flooded the front yard. The grass was silvery in it, as she walked along the garden path. What if Michael didn't come? What if it had just been a joke he had made having nothing better to do with his free afternoon? But Marilyn didn't have time to get worked up about the idea. There was a fence, that separated her parents' land from their neighbors, and where the fence ended at the sidewalk, someone was leaning on the final stake, thumbs hooked into pockets, one foot leisurely against the fence post behind his back.

Suddenly Marilyn realized there was something different compared to the times she had seen him before. It was the first time he had solely come to see her. Well, he wanted company, and in the middle of the night his choices were certainly limited. But he was still here to see her. It wasn't that she was only allowed to be there, too; that she was just following some other girl like a chaperone, whom she hadn't been able to get rid of. Walking down the garden path to meet him was - hers. She was the main person. The thought created a funny feeling in her chest. Apart from being nervous, she felt special - and that was a feeling she hadn't had in a very long time.

When Marilyn came closer, he loosened himself from the fence and flashed a smile. "Hi," he said, "how ya doin'?"

How ya doin'? That was the same thing he had said on the phone. How ya doin'? Marilyn thought it sounded cute. She nodded. "I'm good."

"You're not tired?"

"No." She was much too excited to feel tired.

Marilyn looked down at his bandaged hands. His thumps were still hooked into his pockets, the long fingers lying leisurely on his thighs. She had only been avoiding his eyes, but he seemed to interpret it differently, pulled his thumps out and showed her his hands.

"My older sister did this today. Did she do it well?"

The question surprised Marilyn. But she still took his hands, turning them over and inspecting the bandages. Then she smiled and nodded. "Yes, she did it well."