Descendant Page 7

  “You’re starting to sound more like me, Bethy!” Freddie laughed.

  I surveyed the school grounds for signs of my new friend, Sam. We hadn’t spoken since the week before my I was hospitalized. I realized we never exchanged cell numbers or emails, but I knew I’d run into her in history class, eventually.

  We walked into the main building on campus. Since I’d missed classes, I had lots of schoolwork to catch up on if I planned on passing this semester or graduating on time. God only knew how much I was dreading it.

  Sam wasn’t in first-period history. But third period was Spanish class with Freddie and Señora Peppe. I enjoyed learning foreign languages. I had aced my proficiency in Latin. But as silly as it sounded, I often imagined myself speaking the romantic Spanish language with a sexy matador. I giggled at the mere thought of speaking the language with such a heartthrob. I smiled widely to myself, privately amused and grateful that I would not have to sit through another year of Latin, although with the voices speaking the ancient language, it did come in handy at times.

  As always, Freddie waited for me outside class. “Despues de tus, mi señorita,” he said, escorting me into the classroom with the gestures of a true matador.

  “Gracias.” I smiled tat him and curtsied, feeling a bit playful myself.

  “Buenos Dias, clase. Por favor, tomen los asientos,” Señora Peppe sang, elevating her soprano voice over the chatter as she flitted about the room. Our Spanish teacher was a petite, thin woman in her mid-thirties. She was light on her feet, occasionally swinging her long, flowing skirt like one would during the paso doble, only to reveal her brightly-colored tights underneath. Every flower worn in her short cinnamon hair matched the color of the ballet flats worn on her feet. I was glad to have her for language again this year.

  I stepped into the classroom. Abruptly, my feet bolted to the floor, while my lips parted and my heart pounded through my sweater. Frozen, I stared into the face ofthe stranger. Not the perv stranger, but the beautiful stranger who took my breath away weeks earlier. The unforgettable boy who stepped in and out of my life, as quickly as a bullet can pierce a heart.

  Freddie stood in front of me, outlandishly waving his hands in my face. “Hola? Is anybody home?” he said slowly as if speaking to a toddler. I blinked, realizing how foolish I must have looked to everyone in the classroom watching me.

  I pulled Freddie aside, whispering, “Who is that sitting by my seat?” Freddie turned in the stranger’s direction and enthusiastically informed me of the newcomer.

  “Who him?” Freddie said, pointing to the new boy. I immediately shoved his hand down, trying to be inconspicuous.

  “That’s my boy Michael, the one who’ll be trying out for our team next week. He’s p-r-e-t-t-y cool, but not as cool as me, obviously,” he shrugged.

  “Michael,” I repeated in a daze.

  I remained motionless in front of the classroom looking for an empty seat. For the longest time, I sat in the seat closest to the window in the back of the classroom. It became my thing. The window was my outlet. Especially during boring lectures. I’d stare out the window and dream to make time pass quickly. Now, with only one remaining seat next to the new kid, I wasn’t sure of what to do. Without hesitation, the new boy stood up and moved to the empty seat next to mine. I looked away, feeling foolish and a bit embarrassed.

  I stumbled over to the empty desk and clumsily sat down, trying to avoid his eyes. I drew in deep breaths of his enchanting cologne, the one I remembered from the library.

  I closed my eyes with every feature of his face already memorized. Tempted and curious, I stole a peek at him, unable to help myself, admiring what held me captive the first day I laid eyes on him. In my opinion, he was designed by the masters themselves, a perfectly sculpted statue. He glanced at me as I drifted into a daydream of Myron creating the famous disc thrower in the flawless depiction of this beautiful boy’s image. Stupidly, I continued to stare at him for several long seconds. When he smiled. I snapped back from my daydream, realizing what I had done. Immediately, I turned seven shades of red, looking away, regretfully.

  Michael took notes as the Señora Peppe dictated, at times biting on his pen cap, as he listened to the teacher introduced verb conjugations in the future perfect tense.Perfect he is.And how perfect would life be to have him in it? I thought, giggling to myself, trying my hardest to focus on what Señora Peppe was carrying on about, but my head flooded with visions of my new classmate. An overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him tingled in my fingertips. How would I explain myself if I touched him? I’d surely make a fool of myself. Everything about him intrigued me, making my heart stammer repeatedly, as he sat just inches from me. Within my reach. Someone who finally awakened me.

  I felt paralyzed by Michael’s presence by the time class ended. I hadn’t noticed that Michael already headed out the door, as Freddie made his way over to me.

  “What is wrong with you? Earth to Miss Dazed,” he sneered.

  “Shut up, Freddie!” I retorted, lifting myself slowly off the wooden seat.

  “What class do we have next?” I asked, truly uninterested. My eyes remained focused on the door, with hopes that my new obsession would return. It was that same feeling I had when he walked out of the library.

  “I have calculus, and you have English Lit. Hey, if you wanna meet my boy Mike, just say the word, girl. I’ve got connections. I’ll hook you up!” Freddie said, as he pounded his chest and offered me a peace sign, before running off to his next class.

  The rest of the afternoon, there were no signs of either Michael or Sam. I wondered if Sam’s mom had gone out of town for business and taken Sam with her.

  After class, I walked to my Jeep and sat for a few minutes massaging my temples. The pulsating twinge was noticeably faint in the depths of my eyes. A light knock tapped on the passenger’s side window. I looked up to see Freddie's face pressed playfully against the window.

  “What, Freddie?” I whined.

  “Hey, you think you can give me a lift home?” he said through the closed window, pulling back his lips to expose his teeth and dimpled cheeks.

  “Where’s your bicycle?” I teased.

  “Lost a wheel.” He said, jumping into my truck.

  Freddie lived on the east side of Genesee River. My home was a five-minute drive to his house. We pulled into his driveway and routinely sat a while to talk about stuff.

  “Beth, you up to going to Olean tonight? Some of us from school are going there to shoot pool after soccer practice.” Freddie said.

  “Maybe another night, Freddie. I’m not feeling a hundred percent yet,” I stated flatly, pressing on my temple.

  “C’mon Beth! You really need to get a life. All you do is sit at home by yourself, like you’re old or something?” he retorted.

  “I do not need a life, and I’m not old!” I argued.

  “Who knows, maybe your new boyfriend will be there!” he snorted.

  “He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t even know him, Freddie. You’re such an ass sometimes!”

  “Whoa! That was uncalled for! In fact, you’ve been rather unpleasant to be around. What’s going on with you? You were never like this. You’re not yourself, lately,” he said, pouting his lips.

  “Give me a break. You know I have a lot on my mind,” I muttered, looking down at my lap on the brink of tears.

  “Beth, I was only kidding.” Freddie now looked at me with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes watched me carefully.

  I nodded yes, even though I was obviously lying.

  “I’m not an idiot. Although, you may say I am! I can tell you are clearly upset. I wasn’t serious about theboyfriend thing, you know.” He pouted, hoping to get a smile out of me, which he usually did, only this time it was difficult to find any humor in his usually adorable pucker.

  Freddie put his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. I leaned my head against his shoulder.

  “I know you’re worrie
d. It’ll be okay.”

  “I’m scared, Freddie.” I muttered.

  “What are you scared of? Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise.” Freddie said, wholeheartedly. He stirred nervously in his seat. I knew he worried about me. “Whatever this thing is that you have, these headaches, they won’t get the best of you. I know that! You’ll be okay. Just believe that, all right?” he said, holding me snuggly in his arms while caressing my hair. As close friends, we always found comfort in each other. However, being in Freddie’s arms today, felt good. Reassuring. Different. He continued holding me as I stared up at his face. He was sweet. Handsome in a youthful way with gentle eyes, the color of gun-metal and golden satin skin. I thought about our relationship over the years. We were close. We shared our secrets and everyone else’s, too. But I hadn’t been completely honest with Freddie. I wanted badly to share my dark secret with him, but I didn’t know where to begin. I worried that he’d look at me differently, or I’d sound insane or scare him away. However frightening the idea was, I had decided to put my trust in our long-time friendship and opened up with the single most disturbing burden that had taken over my life. The voices.

  "Freddie, do you know what’s wrong with me?” I said bravely.

  “Not really, Beth. You never wanted to talk about it after you came home from the hospital. All I know is that you get really bad headaches,” Freddie replied, innocently.

  I wiped my eyes knowing the truth might change things between us. I was confused. I couldn’t tell if I were crazy or gifted, like my grandmother claimed. Regardless, I owed it to Freddie to be truthful. He sat quietly, waiting for me to speak as he continued to twirl his fingers around my ringlets.

  “I hear things,” I muttered morosely.

  “We all hear things, Beth. That’s no big secret.” Freddie laughed at first, but upon looking at me, he no longer played with my hair or held me in his arms. His face tensed with apprehension.

  “Beth, what did the doctors say to you?” he pressed on, tucking a loose strand behind my ear.

  “Freddie, I hear voices.” My friend’s face tensed. He was never good at concealing his emotions—his large eyes were a dead giveaway to the thoughts and feelings that circulated through his head.

  “Beth, I’m not sure what you mean. Do you hear your own voice, because—”

  “No, Freddie! I hear all kinds of voices. Good, bad, men, women, kids. They talk to me. They call me. First it was only at night, so I thought they were part of my dreams. But now, they come to me during the day, while I’m wide awake. While I’m driving.” Freddie remained with his mouth wide open. His eyes danced from my lips to my eyes. “Please, I beg you not to say anything, especially to my mom.” I looked away.

  “I would never tell anyone, Beth. You know that. But you’ve got to let me help you. Let me in. Stop pushing me away.”

  “I didn’t know who else to tell. Who else I could trust.” I sobbed silently.

  “Trust? Beth, we made a pact remember? I would never betray you.” Freddie sounded disappointed.

  “ I know.” I choked up.

  “When did you start hearing voices?”

  “Around the time my dad left,” I whispered.

  “And all this time you haven’t said anything to me? Why Beth? I’m supposed to be your best friend. Why wouldn’t you tell me what you’ve been going through?” he snapped at me.

  “I just don’t want you or anyone else to think I am crazy, like my dad, or like the doctors say,” my voice trailed off. Freddie put his arm around me pulling me into his embrace. His lips brushed my hair.

  “I’d never think that about you,” he whispered, inhaling my scent.

  “When Dr. Miller and Dr. Bates said that I may be suffering of schizophrenia, it was as if they plunged a knife into my chest. I didn’t know what to do. All I could think of was my father. So instead, I did the only thing I know how to do best, shut down. I even shut my mom out. I’m scared, Freddie.”

  “There is no reason to shut me out. You know I’ll help you through this. I promise you, Beth, when all this is over, I’ll be the one to help you start fresh. We’ll clean the slate, you and I,” he said, pulling me into his arms again.Tabula Rasa echoed in my head. That’s what I needed to do. Start over, and I’d do it with Freddie.

  With gentle strokes of his fingers, Freddie pushed away loose strands of my hair from my face. He rested his forehead on mine squeezing his eyes shut. I stared at my friend who was distraught over this news. I counted the soft, steady pace of his warm breaths. I, too, closed my eyes as we remained intimately quiet. “I’d do anything for you, Beth. I want you to know that,” he whispered, finally breaking the silence and sealing his promise with a kiss on my forehead. “Thank you, Freddie. This means a lot to me.” I loved him. But not in the boyfriend kind of way, I thought. Although, at that moment when we remained silently embraced, the beat of my heart accelerated to match the tempo of my blood racing through my veins. The feeling stirred something entirely new inside me.

  “Freddie––do you believe in God?” I asked numbly, concentrating on my breathing.

  He frowned at me in disappointment. “Of course, I believe in him. I believe he challenges us to make us stronger believers. Look, faith is what you need to get through this. Besides, you’re a bit too boring for the big guy to invite you now . . . you know, to the other side.” His lips pulled back in an exultant smile.

  “Now take me, for example, I’d probably be in charge of his entertainment committee. Part-ay in dee skies!” He laughed.

  I slapped his arm and pushed him away from me. His boisterous laughter echoed in the car, before regaining composure.

  “Look, if it’s bothering you, speak with Father Tom in Theology class tomorrow? And being our guidance counselor too, it’s his job to listen to you and whatever concerns you have. Tell him you’re having doubts. Talking about it might help. It may also get you an A in his class.” He winked.

  I rolled my eyes in frustration. It was not the answer I was hoping for, but I didn’t expect anything less from Freddie. “Get out!” I sighed.

  “Not unless you agree to marry me first!” he joked, clasping both my hands in his.

  “Out!” I yelled.

  He hooted loudly, throwing me a kiss, followed by a heart shaped figure outline while wearing his,I know I’m cute, grin all at the same time. Freddie was the most positive kid I knew, sometimes irking me to a point where I wanted to choke him. Yet I needed him around. I adored him.

  That evening, after a brisk walk with my dog, since running was out for a while, I helped Mom cook dinner. I felt I had been unpleasant around her, especially lately. Her mind seemed to wander, mostly during dinner that turned awkwardly silent for us at times. I’ asked what was on her mind, but she’d only nod her head, saying that she was concerned about some changes being made at work. However, tonight we managed to pull off a decent conversation, making uneventful chatter about school. I told her about upcoming college auditions, Freddie’s outlandish haircut, and the new girl Samantha.

  Our dinner conversations became harder as days passed. I knew my mom was trying her best to hold on to our relationship, to keep us strong as a family, but she couldn’t. “Perhaps we can go to Kaslo to visit Grandma for the holidays,” Mom said forcing a smile. “That would be great, Mom. I’d love to see Grandma. I’m sure it would make her real happy,” I replied under false pretenses.

  The phone rang. Prince immediately jumped up as Mom answered it.

  “Hello? Yes, she is. One moment.” She extended her arm, holding the phone toward me. “Samantha?” she questioned.

  I nearly leaped out of my seat and grabbed the phone from her hand. Prince began snarling at the phone, arching his back and crouching, as if he were preparing for an attack. I stopped momentarily to look at my dog’s unusual behavior.

  "Prince? What's wrong boy?" I squatted to look into his face. He sneered violently at the phone, salivating, baring his sharp canines at me. I looked a
t my mother curiously, who only shrugged her shoulders in bewilderment.

  "Come, Prince!" Mom called to him. He was obedient enough to return to her and sit at her side, still snarling and growling at the phone, suppressing a bark.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I asked.

  “I’m heading to Coffee Cup or Cup Cake or whatever it’s called in an hour. Someone at school mentioned that all the seniors are going there tonight. Come meet me!” Sam almost demanded.

  “Oh! You mean Coffee Cake. Um. . . sure I’ll meet you there.” I said, trying to silence my dog, Prince.

  “What is that God-awful sound? Is that your mother snoring?” she snickered.

  “No, it's just my dog acting strange. Shush! Prince.” I reprimanded him.

  “So are you coming?”

  “Sure, I’ll see you there.” I said hanging up the phone.

  “Who’s Samantha?” Mom inquired.

  “The new girl I told you about a couple of days ago. She wants to meet at Coffee Cake. She’s really cool, Mom. One day, I’ll invite her over so you can meet her. I’m gonna go shower, andyou need to chill buddy!” I said to Prince, as I rushed up the staircase to my bedroom.

  After showering, I put on a pair of frayed jeans and my Houghton Academy track sweatshirt. I ran down the stairs and over to my mom, who was relaxing on the sofa,

  reading the paper.

  “I won’t be home too late, so you don’t need to wait up for me.”

  “Beth, Sweetie, I don’t know who this Samantha girl is. You know how I feel about friends I haven’t met. I would like to meet her before you–” She stood up to face me but I cut her off.

  “Mom, please don’t start this again. I’m almost eighteen, and I like Sam. For Pete’s sake, she’s the only female friend I have. Don’t interfere, just this one time, please.” I urged her. Her face cinched. “I’ll . . . I’ll make an exception this time, but I expect you to keep your cell on at all times. Drive slowly and be careful on your way to Olean. The roads are dark and . . .”

  “I know. I know, Mom. I gotta go.” I hurried to put my coat on.