C R Everett Love, Carry My Bags (epub)

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.“Wait here,” I had said, hopping out of the passenger seat.With heart pounding, I ran to his parked jeep.Thankfully, it was unlocked, so I placed the package on the front seat, closed the door and ran, breathless.Shaking with nervous fright and elation, I jumped back into the car.Sarah sped off.“What did I do? What did I do?” I was screaming, laughing, relieved, and ready to be sick all at the same time.“You’re crazy,” Sarah said, hysterical with laughter.We calmed down over chocolate ice cream.Later, when Sarah did her routine surveillance, she observed Victor take the box over to Crud’s place, throw the teddy bear on the ground, and stomp it in the muddy snow.He stomped my heart.Here he was, and I, embarrassed, hurt, and bewildered.How could he possibly have led me on like that? And then throw it all in my face? I was clueless.Reese knew all about these happenings as he heard Sarah’s report first hand.He disappeared into the background when we girl talked, but sometimes we asked him for advice—from a male perspective.Usually the answer we got was “I don’t know,” and a little snicker.Remembering all this, I felt vulnerable being stretched out on the couch, and adjusted myself.I turned around the other direction so instead of my feet resting on Reese’s lap, my elbows were, my hands propping up my head.I looked up at Reese with a ho-hum guise and continued watching the movie.Reese seemed anxious, but didn’t throw me off or ask me to move.He scanned my backside.I was oblivious.I never considered myself much to look at, but wanted to be.At 110 pounds and just over five and a half feet tall, I believed I had a big butt.I certainly had no chest, and zits were a constant battle.It wasn’t the disfiguring kind of acne, but the generally distracting and annoying kind.I tried everything to solve the problem—routine zit popping, hydrogen peroxide, milk of magnesia facials, rubbing alcohol, salicylic acid, etc.Nothing worked.It was an inherited genetic defect.My whole body was a genetic defect as far as I was concerned.My eyes turned two shades of brown—another abnormality to live with.As a baby, I had one blue eye and one brown, just like some dogs.I spent a good share of time trying to restore my darkening blonde hair to its previous light blonde state.And I purged, and starved, but not in a major way.I mean, I was never institutionalized or anything.Mother even told me I was just average looking.Not that being average was a bad thing, but a real mother should tell her children they are pretty even if she just means on the inside.When the movie was over, our gathering disbanded.“What did you do New Year’s Eve?” Sarah asked as she drove us home.“Worked,” Kate droned.“Waitressing is so much fun,” she said, stuffing her finger down her throat in a mock gag.“I was out of town,” Sarah said, screwing up her nose in revulsion, “with my parents.”“I didn’t do much,” Reese said matter-of-factly.“I sat home watching TV by myself.”“So did I,” I said, slightly stunned with coincidence.“You should have come over!” I sighed.Hanging-out time, wasted.Neither of us was much into the drinking and party scene.Our group of friends, for the most part, accepted this perceived quirk.Sarah and Kurt were finding their identities, searching in wine bottles now and then.Victor, Crud, and John tried to be bad with beer.Kate imbibed socially on occasion.“Come to the basketball game on Tuesday,” Kate suggested.“We can be Reese and Kurt’s athletic supporters.”Reese blushed.Reese was the only one who actually played, Kurt relegated to water boy after tripping over his own feet one too many times during a game.“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said, ramming Reese even though we hadn’t turned a corner.“Go Hornets!” Kate yelled.“Woo hoo! I’ll meet you after the game.I have to play in pep band.”“Hornets are great.Goin’ down state,” Sarah chanted.We all chimed in.It was easy to get caught up in the enthusiasm, the team undefeated, state championship tournament in sight.CHAPTER 3TO A STRANGER.Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly Ilook upon you,You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (itcomes to me, as of a dream,)I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate,chaste, matured,You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girlwith me,I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has be-come not yours only, nor left my body mine only,You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, aswe pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands,in return,I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when Isit alone, or wake at night alone,I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,I am to see to it that I do not lose you.—Walt WhitmanSarah wrote me a note on paper ripped from its spiral, edge frayed.Sarah scrawled, Figure this out! at the top of the page.Sarah-style encryption followed.The note made no sense when read line by line, but decipherable when read every other line to the bottom and then back up to the second line, reading every other line again.Sarah’s decoded note read:Hi Camryn.I’m working on my term paper.Well, not right at this exact moment, obviously.I want your opinion on it when I get the rough draft done.Okay? I liked the story you wrote.When are you going to do your novel? Have you seen Romancing the Stone? You should.I love the part where Joan Wilder finds the hidden jewel because she had written circumstances just like it in her novel.You should write a novel like that.Kate and I didn’t have a lunch today, so Eric gave us his apple.But she didn’t eat it so Eric and I shared an apple together! How sweet! Kate and I went to ‘The Place’ last night and I talked with Eric.He kept looking at me, shaking his head, and as he walked away, he gave me this intense look and then he said, “Don’t look at me like that!” I can tell you more later.The bell’s gonna ring, so, bye.Sarah* * *Kate unexpectedly drove up in the early February snow, catching me on my way out.“Want to go to a movie? Friday night,” she cooed.“I have to babysit—Coach Bowman’s kids.”“Really.You know Victor’s house is just around the corner from there.You can probably see it from the back yard.”My stalker mind engaged.Victor, still an item of interest, had actually asked me to dance the Friday before.“Cool.”“Sarah’s with Crud tonight,” Kate noted.“When are you done babysitting? We could crash their little party.” Kate went on, conspiratorially, “Sarah was hoping they would go to their favorite parking spot.” She raised her eyebrows twice.A mischievous smile lit my face.“Pick me up at ten.”Babysitting went reasonably well; the kids weren’t too bratty.I was pretty sure I didn’t want any children of my own—single parenthood, out of the question.An unruly brat to try my temper (even though my temper was difficult to rouse) terrified me.I hadn’t considered how upbringing influenced where a kid ended up on the brat meter.I figured it was essentially a given that most kids were borderline red zone at least.Nearly every five minutes I manned my observation post.Victor’s house was visible just over the hedge.Nothing going on.Next check, nothing going on.Feed children dinner.Next viewing, he’s gone! Victor left [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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