Читать книгу Through the Night - Lynette Theisen - Страница 10

As I drove home from school, I began thinking of what an almost perfect day it had been with my almost brand new car. The only thing that went wrong was Kyran showing up and stealing my thunder. I was lost in that thought when suddenly a red ball came flying across the street. I instinctively slammed on my brakes, thankful the roads had cleared up yesterday.

My heart was beating so fast; it was the only part of my body that didn’t feel paralyzed. I looked straight ahead and saw a young boy with remarkably noticeable sky-blue eyes. He couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old, and he was looking right at me. I looked at him intensely, trying to remember if I knew this kid from somewhere. He looked oddly familiar. I’m sure I must have met him at some church function or when I volunteered to be a camp counselor for the younger kids. He continued to stand in front of my car, looking at me, and finally gave a slight wave with an expression of eagerness upon his face. I peeled my right hand off the steering wheel and gave a quick wave back. On that signal, he proceeded to cross the road. I waited for him to grab his ball and cross back over before I slowly began to accelerate, still a little shaken at the thought of wrecking my car the first day I had it—or worse, hurting this kid. The thought gave me goose bumps all over my arms. I looked back in my rearview mirror, but the boy was gone.

When I finally got home, I told my mom about the day’s events, with the exception of the new guy and the spin around the parking lot. I always shared everything with her, but I knew she wouldn’t be too pleased that I broke the rules and had some stranger in my car while doing it. We picked up Jamie at six o’clock as planned and went to my favorite restaurant, Celdor Asado, which is known for its amazing, fall-off-the-bone ribs. It had become a tradition over the last five years; one I looked forward to every time with the same enthusiasm. Jamie and I shared a whole rack, then followed it up with their freshly made cheesecake with raspberry sauce drizzled all over. It was the perfect conclusion to my birthday: being surrounded by the ones I loved the most in my life. Nothing would ever change that.

The next day at school, I was at my locker with my head buried inside it, listening to my iPod. When I closed the door, I was startled to see that there was a person standing on the other side. My heart raced, astonished by the unexpected guest. Kyran smiled as big as he possibly could, showing his stunning, pearly whites.

As I took the earphones out, I said, “Oh my gosh, Kyran! You scared me. What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” he said so convincingly. “I noticed you here when I was walking by. I thought I would come and say hello. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s okay. Why are you here so early, anyway? Everyone else usually waits until the bell is about to ring,” I said incredulously.

“Yes, well, I thought I’d get a head start on the day,” he admitted.

Wow, that really impressed me. It was the last thing I would have expected from a guy like him. It sort of made me, well, intrigued.

“Where are you going?” he said with his still freshly delectable accent.

“Ummm… I have chemistry first period which is right up… ”

He stopped me in my tracks and said, “No, bellissima, where are you going today after school?”

Uhhhhh was all that came to my mind. I didn’t know what to say to this unexpected question.

He was keenly aware of my cautious silence and said, “Sorry if I am so bold. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“No, of course not, I guess that was twice today that you caught me off guard. I actually have plans, though. On Wednesdays I go to youth group at my church,” I explained, glad that I had somewhere to be. He made me nervous just being around him.

“What about tomorrow night then? I would love to take you to the coffee shop and learn more about what there is to do in Westcliffe,” he said so melodically.

The opportunity to tell him about the town I loved and grew up in was tempting. Westcliffe was small but full of charm. Part of its attraction was the fact that we are surrounded by the Sangre de Cristo and Wet Mountains, tucked neatly away from the rest of the world, allowing Westcliffe’s natural beauty to remain preserved. On Saturday nights we would either go to the historic Jones Theater, which played one movie each week and doubled as the performing arts theatre, or to Pizza Madness, which served up the best pizza around and would usually host live bands or have karaoke. I could let him know that after football games everyone would meet up at Cliff Lanes for bowling and burgers. And I could also tell him about the incredible hiking and ski trails or how each summer we would go river rafting on the Arkansas River, which was only a thirty minute drive away. But I won’t.

“Sorry, on Mondays and Thursdays I have dance class. Why don’t you ask Jamie? I’m sure she would love to tell you all there is to know about this place. Anyway, I gotta go. I don’t want to be late for class.” And with that, I quickly walked away, leaving him standing alone.

“Yes, I’ll do that then,” he said a little louder to make sure I could hear him from behind.

Relieved to get into Miss Adamma’s chemistry lab, I let out a sigh as I sat in my chair on the front row, almost out of breath.

“What are you doing, child?” she asked curiously with her African accent.

The bell had not yet rung, and she probably noticed a bit of sweat running down the side of my face.

Miss Adamma came to the US to study at the University of Colorado, ultimately getting her masters in education. She decided to get a green card so she could teach here full time, hoping to one day acquire her citizenship. She was so sweet and naturally beautiful. It was obvious in her voice and body language that she loved to teach and loved her students. This was a dream come true for her.

She told us a story of her childhood on our first day of class. She had once lived in a small, extremely poor village outside of Tanzania. It wasn’t uncommon for children to be sold off as slaves for very little money. She said her parents were so desperate themselves that they were about to sell her into slavery in order to provide food for her younger siblings. That is, until the great messenger showed up. She spoke of the missionary man as a savior. She explained that had it not been for him, her life would have been a living hell, if she would have even survived it at all. “He taught me about Jesus Christ, and through Him, I can be saved,” she said with gratitude on her face. “For once I saw there was hope, and that I, too, was allowed to dream beyond the borders of my village. For that, I am forever grateful.”

“Who, me?” I asked as if she had called me out in front of the whole class.

“Of course, child, who else do you think I would be talking to?”

“I just, uh… uh… wanted to make sure I was on time so that I could give you my science project before anyone else got here. You know, in case you had any questions for me or something,” I stammered frantically.

She looked at me with one eye, you know like your mother gives when she’s not sure if she should believe you or not. I walked up to her and handed her my project and watched as she reviewed it halfheartedly. Other students began to trickle in, yet she was too involved in what she needed to tell me to greet them.

“Renee, if you ever need to talk, I am here. Okay?” On that note, the bell rang, so I gladly took my seat.

I was able to avoid any contact with Kyran for the rest of the day, and the rest of the week for that matter. With it, though, I also had to somewhat avoid my best friend, which really stunk. She was obviously interested in Kyran, along with every other girl in school. So, on a good note it kept him preoccupied, and she certainly didn’t seem to mind either. I kept myself busy with schoolwork, church, and dance to help the time go by until Jamie was either over her little crush or made the announcement that they were now an item. And even though Kyran spent most of his free time with Jamie and a few other hopefuls, I noticed that the few times I happened to pass by him, he would always look up and over to me as if some radar alerted him of my presence. I would just keep walking, head down and eyes glued to the ground, as if I didn’t notice him.

I don’t know why, but he made my stomach feel all tied in knots. It wasn’t like I had never spoken to a boy before; there was just something about him that made me so timid. No doubt he was the most gorgeous guy I had ever laid my eyes on in person, but it was more than that. It was as if I were afraid I wouldn’t be able to control myself with him, as if he made me vulnerable somehow. Whatever the case, it really didn’t matter because Jamie seemed to like him a lot, and so there was really nothing to worry about. I was sure she would have him wrapped around her finger in no time.

It was eight thirty in the evening and dance class had just ended. I started taking ballet when I was five and jazz a few years later. My mother entered me into ballet first to help cure my clumsiness, the result of my lanky legs, and to give me a little grace. It certainly cured me, but dancing gave me so much more than that. It was so liberating and a beautiful way to express myself, both creatively and physically. It was the only time my shyness had no power over my thoughts and movement, which gave me the freedom to be as delicate as a butterfly or as vigorous as a tiger. I usually opted for the butterfly.

I asked Mo, short for Maureen, if I could stay a little longer and practice my routine for the upcoming performance next month. This recital was particularly important to me because it was the day before my father’s birthday, and this dance was a tribute to him. I must have listened to a hundred songs that would let him know how much I loved him. I knew when I heard the words to “In My Arms” by Plumb that this would be the song to bring him to tears first, then to his feet. The amazing lyrics would let him know that even though I’m not such a little girl anymore, I still feel safe in his arms.

I needed to keep practicing to make sure my grand jeté and fouettés were absolutely perfect. Mo had been my instructor for the past seven years, so we were very close, and I knew I could persuade her into extending our practice.

“Sorry, Renee, but I have plans tonight with my husband. He’s taking me out on a date!” she said excitedly. It was so cute how she still adored him after all these years together.

“Ah, come on, Mo. Please, please!” I begged. “I know where the extra keys to the studio are. I promise to lock up for you, so it’s not like you’ll have to stay and wait. Please!” The perfectionist in me wouldn’t give up trying.

“Okay, Renee.” She quickly gave in, knowing she was about to embark on a battle she didn’t have time for. “But don’t overdo it. You don’t want to get worn down or strain a muscle,” she said with genuine concern.

“Thank you. I promise; I’ll be careful.”

And with that, she was off to her date.

I turned the music back on and began my routine. Halfway through it, dissatisfied with my performance, I started over. This seemed to be a continuous pattern for the next thirty minutes, and I began to get frustrated. I just couldn’t seem to jump high enough or turn fast enough. I must be getting too tired, I convinced myself. Try one last time, and then call it a night.

I started the music over, and on my second turn I spotted some-thing red in the mirror. I stopped immediately to see what it was.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue. You’re quite good,” the unexpected visitor implored.

“Kyran, you’ve got to quit doing this,” I exclaimed, noticing he was wearing my red scarf around the top of his black leather jacket. I intentionally failed to mention I was the one who lost it the day he found it.

“Doing what?” he asked innocently.

“Scaring me, that’s what. So, what are you doing here anyway? Are you following me?” I accused.

“Don’t be ridiculous, amore. I was driving through town and saw your car out in front of the studio, so I thought I would stop by for a minute. Please, continue. You have a captive audience!” he admitted. I noticed two small dimples on each side of his stretched lips. My heart beat a little faster.

“Actually, I was just about done. I’m a little worn-out and can’t seem to get any of the moves right. Besides, I really need to get going,” I said. I began packing my gym bag with my back to him, careful not to look into his eyes.

A childhood memory flashed into my head of our ranch cat, Oscar, when I saw him hypnotize a nice plump bird that was happily perched on the fence. He had watched it so carefully… so patiently. He knew eventually, the bird would look into his hypnotic eyes and once it did, it was a goner. Oscar was a very fat cat.

“Please, just one more time. Perhaps I can help you somehow.” I could hear his spellbinding voice getting louder; he was growing closer to me with each word spoken.

“Really, that’s very nice of you, but I have to go. I don’t want my parents getting worried and putting out a search party for me.”

I grabbed the remote to the CD player to turn the music off when he loosely wrapped my red scarf around my neck from behind me. Instinctively, I crossed my arms as if to shield myself from this alluring outsider, and then he tenderly placed his arms atop mine, capturing me into his human cocoon. I found myself completely stunned while melting into his embrace. I could feel each beat of his pounding heart through his muscular chest on my back. He spoke softly into my right ear, “Please, try your routine one last time. Don’t think about the dance itself, but what it means to you.”

He then took the remote from my hand to start the song over. As he let go of our embrace, I began my routine, only this time picturing my father watching me with proud eyes. I unwrapped the scarf from my neck and used it as a prop, adding to the routine that little something that had been missing. As I executed each jump or turn, I didn’t really think about them; I just moved my body to the flow of the music. I became one with it.

Suddenly, I realized I was no longer performing for my father in my mind. I could see Kyran in the mirror, watching me as I continued to dance. I could feel the power of his stare rushing through my blood, giving me a surge of energy. When I came to the part where I complete a triple fouetté turn, I was positioned directly in front of him and couldn’t help but look deep into his seductive green eyes with each rotation. I liked having his absolute attention as I continued to sway my body for him, and it scared me. He was able to bring something out in me that I never knew existed. A passion that filled my very essence, unleashing the tiger from deep within. It showed in my fluid rhythm as I was finally able to complete the dance with total satisfaction.

When the song ended, I heard clapping as Kyran said, “Brava, bellissima, brava!”

Ending my routine on the floor, Kyran came over to me and held out his hand to help me up. My breathing was still heavy. His eyes were merely inches from mine. I had never been so close to any other male besides my dad. I stood motionless as if I were a butterfly that had been stunned by the venom of a spider.

Kyran rubbed the side of my face gently with the back of his hand and said, “You see, amore; you are a fantastic dancer.”

I looked down, feeling embarrassed by the situation, and then he grabbed my chin to lift my face up to meet his. I could see his eyes getting closer to me when the next song began to play. I immediately came out of the trance I seemed to be in and quickly turned around to grab my bag.

“Kyran, I really have to go now. It was good to see you. And thanks for the scarf,” I said as I stuffed it into my bag. “See you in school tomorrow. Okay?”

“Yes, of course.” I could hear footsteps striding across the wooden floor. And then an unfamiliar word came to me as he walked out the door. “Domani!”

I quickly turned off the lights, locked up, and drove home. Domani. I repeated the word several times with curiosity. As soon as I walked in the door; I went straight to the computer to look up this last mysterious word that came from his mouth. I quickly typed the word into the Google search engine and up came the word: tomorrow.