From Ant to Eagle(9)

She hung her head lower so that her hair drooped over her face. The only noise in the room was her sock on the carpet as she toed at some invisible object on the ground. We stood for what seemed like an hour. If she had thought that maybe I would leave, she was wrong. I stood waiting for an answer. Had I known back then that it would never come, that Aleta’s voice had left her months before, I wouldn’t have waited so long.

“Okay, is that a yes?” I finally asked.

Sensing that I wasn’t leaving without confirmation, she looked up. Glints of the sun streaming through the window reflected off her eyes and in them I saw something I couldn’t quite place. She studied me momentarily, perhaps deciding what my intentions were. Satisfied with what she saw, she nodded and whispered, “Sure,” in a voice that was only perceptible because the house was midnight silent.

“Okay, great. I’ll come by around nine,” I said.

I tried to play it cool but a sheepish grin spread across my face. She closed the door without another word and I felt as light as a dust speck floating through the air as I walked back downstairs.

Sammy and Raquel were chatting away at the kitchen table. He looked happier and his trademark sulk wasn’t there anymore.

“How’d it go?” Raquel asked, as I walked into the room.

“Good. We’re going to hang out tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened and she stared at me, scanning my face for the hint of a joke.

“She said she’d go out tomorrow? That—that’s wonderful,” she stammered.

It was wonderful. I finally had someone my own age to hang out with. And despite the obvious problem that conversation would be difficult, I was looking forward to a day without constantly explaining things or being relied on. Besides, having someone around who was a little on the quiet side would be a nice change.

“Yep, I’ll be by tomorrow at nine for a bike ride.”





CHAPTER 7

FIRSTS OF ANYTHING ARE OFTEN EASY TO REMEMBER—LIKE THE first time I went to a movie theatre or my first day of Kindergarten. That first bike ride with Aleta will forever be a part of my memory, but I’ll write about it all the same.

I’d hoped to be the first up that morning but I found Sammy’s bunk already empty when I climbed down from my own. Teeth brushed, hair wet to flatten the cowlick where I’d slept, I headed downstairs to find Mom, Dad and Sammy sitting around the kitchen table.

“Ah, the young prince has arisen. I hear you have a date today,” Dad said, taunting me from behind his morning paper.

“It’s not a date,” I mumbled, sitting down in the empty chair.

“Harold, stop teasing the kids,” Mom scolded.

“Teasing? Who’s teasing,” Dad said with a smile. “So, what’s she like, where’s she from, are you going to take her somewhere fancy or low key?”

“It’s not a date,” I repeated. “We’re just going for a bike ride.”

“Ah, low key it is. I like your style. I remember the first time I took your mother out. Red Lobster on a Saturday night. Would have been a perfect evening if I’d remembered my wallet.”

“It was Oscar Taylor’s, and seriously, stop, or he’ll never talk to another girl as long as he lives.”

“Oscar Taylor’s? Really? Huh, Red Lobster must have been with someone else. Hard to keep track of them all.” Dad winked at Sammy and me.

Mom rolled her eyes and got up to clear the table.

Sammy had been sitting patiently watching Dad torment me with a grin on his face—he thought Dad was hilarious.

“Mom packed us some snacks for our bike ride,” Sammy said, finally having his time to talk.

The night before, as I’d lay in bed imagining my bike ride with Aleta, Sammy had not been in the picture. How could I have been so stupid? Of course Sammy would have assumed he was invited. He was like the leech that got stuck to my foot one time in the creek—impossible to get rid of. The thought crossed my mind to tell him he wasn’t allowed to come, but I knew it would only encourage Dad’s teasing so I let it go. Maybe having Sammy there for the first time I hung out with Aleta might not be such a bad thing. At least if the conversation went completely dry he’d be there with one of his usual comments about the clouds looking like animals or the cornfields looking beautiful. If anything, he might be good for comic relief.

After a short breakfast, we grabbed our bikes off the lawn where we’d left them and set out on our way. It was another hot, humid day but this time we packed water. I was anxious to get there and had to yell at Sammy more than a few times to stop dawdling. I’d turn around to find him staring off in the distance, bike zigzagging back and forth over the gravel road.

“Hurry up, Sammy! Pay attention to where you’re going!”

He’d focus for a few minutes, face determined as he’d push heavily on his pedals to catch back up, only to forget two minutes later and start dawdling again.

Sometimes he’d yell something from behind but I’d pretend not to hear.

“Dad says it will be a good harvest this year because the corn is already so high,” he said. Then, two minutes later, “Cal, what’s a harvest?”

I was glad when I heard Chloe barking in the distance. We hopped off our bikes and walked them down the driveway so she wouldn’t topple us over. The door was closed so we knocked and waited. Heavy footsteps approached after a few minutes and the door opened to reveal the same man we’d seen in church with Aleta and Raquel.