Beyond The Ghosts (Legacy Falls Project) (5 page)

“What are you having?” my sister leaned over to yell in my ear above the music.

“Just get me a beer,” I hollered back.

“Just a beer? What kind of beer?”

“I don’t know, just get me a beer.”

“They have like fourteen different beers. What do you want?” My blood began to boil, and I could feel the flush of my skin. I took a few slow breaths to keep the fire under control.

I ground through my teeth, “Surprise me.” Turning, I took in my surroundings while we waited. I didn’t want to snap on my sister. Why couldn’t she just get me a beer? Any bar overseas you ask for a beer, they give you a beer. Whatever it was, you drank it. I took a few more breaths and pushed the turmoil brewing in my head to the back burner.

I listened to Zydeco Bayou Band—according to the name painted on the bass drum—play their unique blend of Cajun Bluegrass and direct the crowd in line dances. I could two-step, but it had been years since I had danced. In fact, I think the last time I ever danced was my high school prom. I couldn’t recall a time after that where I had done more than sway in place or tap my foot.

A finger in the gut caught my breath. “Hey, Mr. Tall, Tan and— Ow, that hurt my finger.”

I looked down to see Beth’s friend Christina looking up at me with her injured finger in her mouth.

“Hey, Shorty. What’s up?”

“You, apparently. And it’s not Shorty, it’s Munchkin if you don’t want to be rude.” She wiggled her injured finger at me.

“I wouldn’t want to be rude then, Munchkin. Whatever you prefer.”

"I’d prefer if you would take me for a twirl around the dance floor.”

“I was waiting for my beer.” I motioned to the bar where Beth was leaned against the cool granite surface watching for the bartender’s return.

“It will be here when you get back. Beth will guard it.” The bar was still a blur of people
. It might be a while
, I thought, so I agreed.

“Okay then. Lead the way.”

“I better follow you. You make a better battering ram than I do.”

She got behind me and pushed me forward toward the dance floor.

On the dance floor, I followed Christina’s lead as she fell into the line of female dancers in one row opposite the males as they two stepped toward each other and back again. Christina obviously knew the pattern, and I just followed along and was thankful to have men on either side of me to mimic. 

When the next song came on and things took a swirly route, Christina took the lead and twirled herself off of me and back again. Her smile was infectious, and I was happy to be her twirling pole. She reminded me of one of those music boxes where the little ballerina twirled on a string from the lid. My arm acted as her lid and she spun on my finger, ebbing and flowing from me on a grooved path like the tiny dancer.

Six songs later, my feet were protesting and my throat was parched. I needed a drink. Christina was going to follow me or dance by herself. I started to make my way to the bar whose crowd had thinned out some since I left, and Beth was perched upon a stool talking to some guy.

“I thought you were getting me a beer?”

“And I thought you were hanging out. I gave it to Scott here.”

“Hi, I’m Scott.” He extended his hand for a shake, and I met his grasp.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Peter, Beth’s brother.”

“She was telling me.”

“What else was my baby sister telling you while you drank my beer, Scott?” I didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but I was very thirsty and I was one beer short.

“I’m sorry, man, let me get you a beer. Bartender, can we get two more, please?” The bartender gave him a nod and was quick to bring back two long-neck bottles and place them in front of us.

“Happy now?” my sister chided.

“Yes, I’m thirsty. Munchkin over here dragged me onto the dance floor before I was even able to hydrate. I was not prepared for this.”

“Oh, stop being a sissy. Live a little. Life isn’t all plans and missions, Peter.”

I refused to complain about my feet. My sister was already calling me a sissy about the whole dancing thing. I had survived worse. Long walks with bleeding blisters on my feet but still had to march on and suck it up. I couldn't whine and bitch about my feet in front of my men. I marched right beside them, bleeding feet and all. If I could survive those long marches through desert mountains, I could survive one night in dress shoes.

Scott was a sloppy drunk, and even though he stayed upright, his words began to slur, and whatever aspirations my sister had with the guy were over a few beers later. Beth’s mood soured as his drunkenness progressed and Scott burned his bridge.

“I’m gonna go home,” she blurted out after Scott told yet another dry joke.

“Hold on, let me tell Christina goodbye and we can go.”

“No, you stay. She needs a designated driver anyway. Make sure she gets home.”

“I’m ready to go.”
My feet were ready to go two hours ago.

“Can you please be a gentleman and make sure she gets home?” I really was ready to go, but I couldn’t leave Christina by herself. She wasn’t done yet and was still dancing with a group of girls in an organized line dance resembling a modified electric slide.

“And how am I supposed to get home?”

“Just drop her car off tomorrow. I’m exhausted, and I have to work tomorrow. Please?”

She peered up at me with a pouty mouth—her lip hung low and she batted her eyelashes. She looked so pathetic, she needed a paper clip to hold her saggy lip up.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

“Whatever. Love you, muah.” She blew me a kiss and left me on DD duty.

I found Christina back on the dance floor and joined her and the other females dancing. I didn't realize it was nearly the end of the song and the next was a slow number. The music was quieter and gave me the opportunity to tell Christina Beth had left me to assure she got home.

“Hey, Beth took off,” I told her leaning close to her ear so she could hear me.

“What? Why?” She looked around frantically for Beth to stop her.

“She was tired and has work tomorrow. I suspect she was just upset that guy Scott got wasted.”

“Scott is always wasted. I don’t know why she bothers with that guy. He is super clingy.”

“I have no idea, but it is my job to make sure you get home.”

“I haven’t had that much to drink.” We moved off the dance floor to a side table, but when we reached the table she kept moving and stumbled.

“Okay, maybe I did. I was fine until I tried to stop moving.” I reached out to help steady her and she leaned into my chest. “That’s a little better.”

Her gait steadied, and when she was comfortable, she pulled away and stood opposite me.

“I just want to see something,” she said cocking her head to the side. “Come here.” She wiggled her finger in a come hither motion, and I leaned down to meet her. She cupped my cheeks with both her small hands and planted her soft lips on mine. Nibbling at each lip, she followed each pinch with a swipe of her tongue to soothe it. I opened my mouth in a gasp, and she took full advantage and massaged my tongue with hers. Instinct took over and my body reacted; I pulled her closer deepening the kiss.

She squeaked, and I thought I squeezed her too tight. I loosened my grip and ended the kiss with a peck on the lips.

She looked up at me in bewilderment.

"Why are you acting surprised?"

"I don't know. I didn't expect you to kiss back."

"Why did you kiss me? Do you always kiss strangers?"

"We are not strangers anymore. Besides, we are practically family."

"Please don't say that." Being from a small family, my first thought was my mother's sister, my Aunt Virginia, dripping in Jean Nate cologne trying to stick her tongue in my mouth. Just the thought made my stomach roll. 

Without missing a beat, Christina replied, "I always wanted to kiss a soldier. Now I can say I have."

I kissed her again.

"Yeah, you're right, I don't kiss anyone in my family like that," she said, breathless.

"Let me take you home."

"I don't go home with strangers in bars."

"I thought we weren't strangers anymore." 

"Touché, Peter."

As promised, I drove Christina home. She had a little Chevy Cavalier that I had to jack the seat all the way back just to drive it, and it felt like I was driving from the back seat. I took it nice and slow through the dirt road from the bar back to town trying not to hit every dip and pit in the road and possibly break an axle. Christina lived a few short blocks from my sister, and I thought about crashing at Beth’s, but she surely was asleep by then.

Christina snoozed softly leaning into my side as I drove back to her place. I parked her car in front of her apartment and nudged her to rouse her from sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, and she quickly straightened, wiping her mouth as she tried to gain her bearings. Assured there was no drool on her face, she thanked me for driving.

“How are you going to get home?”

“I’m just gonna walk.”

“That’s a long walk.”

“It’s fine. I have walked a lot further in a lot worse places. I will enjoy the stars.”

Not putting up an argument, I turned off the ignition and went around to her side to help her out. After clicking the door lock on her key fob, I escorted her to her door. She stood there in front of the door facing me and staring. 

I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation and wasn’t sure if she was going to kiss me again or if she had sobered up and had come to her senses already. When she held her hand out, I realized I still had her keys.

“Oh, yeah, that would help.” Christina giggled and unlocked her door. She looked over her shoulder at me, and a blush reddened her cheeks.

“Thanks again, Peter. I had a great time.” She eased her way into her apartment, and I waited until I heard the lock click before starting my walk back to my parents’ house.

The walk back to my parents’ house was quiet and peaceful. The streets of Legacy Falls rolled up after 7 PM, so at 3 AM, they were absolutely deserted. Crickets and cicadas taunted each other, chirping and clicking in tandem like Morse code.

Even after a night of dancing, muscle memory took over, and despite the uncomfortable shoes, I found my stride but not my rhythm. With no weapon, Alice belt, or equipment, I felt lost. My hands did not know what to do. I stuck them in my pockets, but it was awkward. I stuck my thumbs in the crests of my pockets, but they were sore after just a few minutes. 

I let my arms hang down to find their swing. It felt unnatural.
How could it be unnatural? People do this every day.
Finally, I deliberately pumped my arms like when I ran, except slower. It made me pick up my pace and cadences sang in my head, and eventually, out of my mouth, filling the silent streets. 

Around her neck she wore a studded collar

She wore it in the springtime in the merry month of May

And if you ask her why the heck she wore it

She wore it for that soldier who was into whips and chains.

Whips and chains

Whips and chains

Whips and chains

Whips and chains

She wore it for that soldier who was into whips and chains. 

Around the block she rode a purple Harley

She rode it in the springtime in the merry month of May

And if you ask her why the heck she rode it

She rode it for that soldier who was into whips and chains.

In no time at all, I was home; my endorphins kicked in and quieted my screaming feet. I was sure I would be feeling them in the morning, but I felt accomplished. Christina was home safe and sound. 

Mission completed.