SWEET CREATURE//steve harrington

SEVEN

"WAIT FOR ME, STEVE!" VIVIAN CRIED, DUSTING OFF HER GRASS-STAINED OVERALLS. Steve threw his head back, running ahead. Steve's backyard stretched out before them, the sunlight filtering through the trees."Viv!" he exclaimed, crouching down and examining the grass. He held out his hand as she approached, a fat green caterpillar crawling across his palm. "Ooh," Vivian breathed, putting her face close to Steve's hand, eyes wide. "He's so big!" Steve grinned, one of his front teeth missing, chubby cheeks flushed from running. "I wanna show my mom," he said, jumping up and running toward the back door.

Vivian stopped abruptly and instinctively wiped her feet when they bolted into the kitchen; one too many lectures from Mrs. Harrington about muddy footprints on the tile had trained her acutely. "Mommy!" Steve yelled in excitement, the green caterpillar crawling sluggishly over his fingertips. Mrs. Harrington stood at the kitchen sink, which was full of steaming soapy water. "Steven," she sighed, drying her hands. "Please. Try and keep it down." He shrank back slightly, but held out his hand anyway. "Look, Mom! It's a cecropia moth caterpillar," Steve said quietly, stroking the caterpillars back as it inched across his skin. "North America's largest native moth. The females have a minimum wingspan of five inches," he whispered, fascinated at the crawling insect. Vivian smiled proudly.

"That's nice, dear," Mrs. Harrington said absently, turning back to the dishes. Vivian looked at Steve carefully. He stared at his mom's profile, busy and uninterested. He frowned, his bottom lip pouting slightly. Vivian reached out her hand and touched his elbow. "Come on," she suggested. "Can Steve come to my house, Mrs. Harrington?" "That should be fine," she responded, not even giving them a look. Steve gave her a soft smile. Vivian gestured for them to leave. He gave her a questioning look and held up the caterpillar."Bring him," she whispered to him as they darted out the door. "My mom will love it."

Vivian watched as a fat caterpillar crept across the shingles by her feet. She flicked her cigarette in the opposite direction from it, holding her finger next to it. Its bumpy feet took to her, and it started to worm along her fingertips. The cecropia moth caterpillar.

She took a long draw from her cigarette, watching the last bit of pink sun fade from the sky. The day had been boring and enduring, just like the ones before it. Except for the interaction with Steve, which she would've much rather gone without.

But who knew? Maybe it was important that she spoke her mind to him for once. Maybe it was good that he heard how she actually felt, instead of shutting her out before she had a chance to even think. He always did that. When they were kids, he was like a hairpin trigger, a flash in the pan. Easy to set off, but equally easy to put out, and she'd learned to navigate the hills and valleys well. Better than herself at times.

She had no idea who that had been today, talking to her. She knew, yes, but she couldn't understand. That kid standing in front of her had once been her toothless, out of breath, grass-stained best friend. She hated who he'd become. He looked nothing like the Steve she knew. The Steve that dressed up with her, the Steve that picked her up for the Snowball, the Steve that loved bugs, the Steve that always let her borrow his clothes when they got muddy in the sprinkler. That person was dead and gone, today had proved that. Vivian had had the realization all but forced on her.

Her cigarette was dwindling, and she rested her palm on the window sill, placing the caterpillar back on the roof, on a dead leaf. The door behind her creaked open. "Honey?" "Mom!" Vivian yelped, rushing to put out the cigarette. She turned back her head and smiled innocently. "You're insulting my intelligence, dear," Mrs. Sweets sighed, fanning her face. "And the open window is not helping the quality of air at all." Vivian sighed. "I'm trying to quit, Mom." "There you go again," she laughed. "Insulting my intelligence." Vivian swung her legs back through the window and closed it. "There's meatloaf for dinner," her mom said. "Come down and eat." Vivian groaned. "Do I absolutely have to?" "If you love your mother, then yes," Mrs. Sweets retorted, smiling amicably and shutting the door softly. Vivian breathed a laugh and shook her head.