Complement the atmosphereHe holds out a rose. He's covered with grease, and still in his dark blue coverall suit from the garage. He was late leaving the shop because the owner wanted him to finish a brake job and then wait around for the customer who didn't want to leave his car overnight. The rose is artificial. The only place still open is the convenience store and he didn't have time to go to the bank anyway. It's 9:47 pm and I blew my curfew forty-seven minutes ago. As long as I say I was with Lochlan and not sitting on the swings in the park in total darkness trying to act bored instead of scared for three hours straight I won't get in any trouble.
Fill the ground with all our tears
Dry them up to make it clear
We do no wrong
I take the rose and he looks at his feet and shakes his head like he has water in his ears. Lochlan's self-doubt is as visible as his flaming hair
Happy Valentines Day, peanut.
I thrust forward the card I made for him. The envelope is too big, borrowed from the desk in the front hall. Maybe next year I'll have some money to buy a card with an envelope that matches but then again I probably won't. I'm a very good drawer though. Lochlan's been teaching me life studies or whatever he calls it. I draw him in poses. He gives me one minute per pose, sometimes five if he doesn't have to go to work early.
He opens the card.
I made it just for you! I crow.
He nods. I can tell. I love your artwork. I'm going to keep it forever, okay? Test me on that twenty years from now.
I will then. I smile, I am so pleased with myself when I make him happy.
So I got a new job, peanut. A job with the show. It starts at the end of May. I applied for it a couple weeks ago but I didn't want to tell anyone and jinx it. I won't have to work at the garage anymore.
Where will you be?
All over the east coast, even down to the US. All summer long. Maybe more once I'm done school. Midway and the circus too. I can alternate depending on what's happening.
I am so excited for him my heart catches in my throat. Never have I seen him so happy. I give him a hug and say Congratulations because that's what people tell you when something great happens to you and then I'm suddenly aware that the feeling I have isn't happiness for his news but an abrupt realization that he's leaving. He just GOT here, into my life.
I start to cry and drop the rose on the ground and he pulls me into his arms. I am now covered with grease and sweat and he holds me really tightly and rocks back and forth as we stand there and says to me, Now see, Bridget, that's the best part. You can come with me. Did you really think I would leave you behind?
Close the door before it's lateHe puts me back down and tries to wipe my cheeks with the cleanest parts of his hands. It doesn't work. Now I look like an extra from Apocalypse Now. We watched it in his parent's basement last week. They have a VCR. I didn't like it because it was about wars so I re-braided my hair and tried to appear interested, like the older kids seemed to be. I was just happy it was over, eventually.
We were born to love and hate
Turn it down for our own sake
We do no wrong
You fill your ears with every note
Direction seems the only hope
Its crowded, let's create now
We do no wrong
And it also means next Valentine's Day I can give you something nicer. He picks up the rose and puts it between his teeth and winks at me.
I snatch the rose back from him and clutch it tightly. I don't know what he's talking about. How am I supposed to come with him?
Just think about it, Bridget. You can live in the midway. Ride every ride all day long. Have cotton candy for breakfast. Instead of visiting for a few nights you will be part of the show. I'm going to take the old camper or maybe even buy one from this guy the owner knows. It's a dream come true. No more shop hours and pink soap and crappy customers and low pay. I'll be in the entertainment industry. He grins, eyes sparkling in the dark.
His grin is contagious. I have no doubt he was born to charm. There's just something about him that makes him seem older than his years. Something about him that draws people in and holds their attention long after the lights go down and the rides are locked. Something that allows him to get away with things most people wouldn't dream of in a million years.
Common sense protects usI made him a new card this morning, a lot like that first one which he pulled out to show me. He's been using it as a bookmark for close to three decades now. Then he turned around and walked to the desk, and pulled out a big red fabric rose with a plastic stem, tag still attached. He gave it to me to hold while he dug his lighter out of his pocket.
Everything affects us
To the outside light it's paradise
To the outside light it's paradise
And he set it on fire.