My Blue Eyes (3 page)

     "Please call me Ella, I insist."
     Mary replied, "That's the same thing Mr. Watson, I mean Paul, said."
     "Would you like to help me in the kitchen Mary?" Mom said while motioning for me to leave the room.
    "Sure Mrs. Watson."
    "It's Ella," Mom reminded her as I walked out of the room.
     I went into the living room, sat down on the couch and continued watching the football game.  There was a queasiness in my stomach as I sat there and watched the game.  I wondered what my mom was saying to Mary in the kitchen.  I heard laughter from both of them several times.  Mary had a sweet, sincere laugh.  Not the annoying one I always pictured her as having.  I could tell she was enjoying herself.  How could she not?  My mom could make anyone feel welcome.
     Every time my dad and I heard laughter, he would look at me and smile.  It was almost creepy.  This was not the first girl I ever introduced them to.  Why were they displaying this odd level of affection towards Mary?  They knew I could not stand her.  Maybe this was their plan to get her to focus on our senior project and force her to put forth the effort to participate.
     When dinner was ready, Mom called Dad and me into the kitchen, and we sat at the table.  Mom downsized the table to a four person table once she finally got my sister to leave the house.  I think this was her way of saying, please don't move back in.  When the entire family came to the house for Sunday dinners or the holidays, Dad would bust out the card tables for the kids, and all of the guys would sit in the living room, while the women would sit in the kitchen.
     When we sat down at the table, Dad sat at the head with Mom to his left.  I sat at the other head of the table and Mary sat to my left.  Mom asked Dad to say grace, which required all of us to join hands.  Dad grabbed Mary's left hand with his right and I proceeded to grab her right hand with my left.  She had the softest, most delicate skin I've ever felt on a girl.  I had always figured she would have clammy skin, so I was amazed with the smoothness of her soft silky hands.  I could feel how thin her fingers were, as they laid in my palm with my fingers resting on the top of her forehand.  She squeezed my hand with a soft, gentle grip, and I returned the favor focusing not to squeeze too tight.
     When Dad finished with grace, we all filled our plates with the over indulgence of food my mother had prepared.  Mary and my parents spoke to each other like they had known one another for years.  Mary would laugh at my dad's stupid jokes, covering her mouth for fear of showing any half eaten food still stuck in her mouth.  
     I didn't say much. I was too taken aback by the amount of words coming from Mary's mouth.  The only words I heard her speak was when I forced her to reply about the topic for our senior project.  I wondered where all this has been, or why she never spoke at school.  She would glance at me from time to time and flash a brief closed smile, assuring me I was still at the table and part of the conversation she was having with my parents.  Mom noticed too, because she would inadvertently start talking about my baseball prowess.
     Dessert followed dinner and the conversations continued.  I was more involved in the conversations, ranging from anything and everything, from school to movies.  Mary reached over once and grabbed my hand giving it a gentle squeeze as she spoke about us always being paired up in eighth grade science.  Before tonight, I would have cringed at the thought of her touching me, but tonight I didn't mind.
     I enjoyed seeing this side of Mary, compared to the shell she hid in at school.  It was mind baffling to me, but at this moment, I didn't care.  I was having a good time, and it made me feel good Mary was too.
     The conversation lasted beyond dessert and before you knew it, it was well after 8:00.  Mom looked up at the clock and gasped at the time.
     "Oh my Lord Paul, look at the time.  Mary, what time do you need to be home?"
     "I just need to make sure I'm home by 9:00," Mary replied.  "My mom has to go into work at 9:30 tonight."
     Mom looked at me in disbelief, "I'm so sorry Darrel.  We didn't give you a chance to work on your project."
     "It's alright Mrs. Watson, I mean Ella," Mary interjected.  "I'm free tomorrow if Darrel is.  Are you Darrel?"
     I glanced at Mary, and then my mom.  "Um, I want to watch the football game at 12:00 PM, but after that is fine."  I thought, 
did I really just agree to spend two days in a row with Mary?
     "That will work for me," Mary cheerfully agreed.  "Can I help you clean up Mrs. Watson, ugh, I mean Ella?"
     Mom smiled at Mary and looked at me, "No, I can get this.  You need to get that car home to your mom.  Darrel, why don't you walk Mary out to her car, and you guys can finalize your plans for tomorrow."
     Mary got up from the table and thanked my parents for a wonderful evening.  I could tell she meant it.  It was as if she yearned for this type of interaction.  I wondered what she must be like at home.  Maybe her mom works all the time, and Mary spends most of her time at home, alone, hidden from the rest of the world.  My parents didn't ask about her home life.  It's like they knew it would be a subject Mary would not open up about.  I didn't even know if she had a dad.  There was such a big mystery about Mary.
     I walked Mary to her car.  The car was a beater.  An old rusted out VW Bug.  Mary acknowledged the pile of rust, but said it gets them to where they need to be.  We finalized our plans as we stood on the sidewalk in front of my brightly lit house.  There was a burning question inside me, I had to ask her.
     "What was that all about Mary?"
     "What was what all about?" Mary questioned already knowing what I was talking about.
     "I can't get you to say two words to me at school, yet you talked tonight like we've known each other forever."

     Mary looked away and shrugged her shoulders.  “Your parents are nice.  I just don't feel the need to talk to people at school.  Did you expect me to come over here and not talk?"
     "I don't know what I expected tonight Mary, I'm just baffled," I replied with a sense of urgency due to Mary needing to get home.  "Understand where I am coming from.  The girl I knew in eighth grade never spoke, and the girl I knew this year, up until tonight, never spoke.  We are almost to October, and we are just starting our project.  If you would have spoken up in August, we would be well on our way to getting this project kicked into high gear.  This hasn't been fair to me."
     Mary reached out and grabbed my hands.  I was shocked, but I didn't mind.  Her hands were still so soft and silky, they felt good in mine.  She looked at me and smiled with her straight, white teeth, I had always overlooked.  Her bright green eyes sparkled through her glasses with the glare of the street lights outside.
     "Everything will work out fine."  And with that, she entered her car before rolling down the passenger side window and said, "Does 4:00 PM sound good?  I will come by here."
     I shook my head yes and blurted out, "I want to take you to my spot on Colapi Creek.  You have to trek through the woods, so make sure you wear the right kind of clothes.
     And with that, Mary drove away as I stayed there standing on the sidewalk watching her taillights disappear in the distance.  So many questions left unanswered.  I wanted more.  I needed more.
Chapter 6

     The next morning I was awakened by the roar of thunder and rain lightly tapping on my window.  I hopped out of bed, tripping on things that populated what used to be the carpeted floor of my bedroom.  Pulling up the shades, I let out a very emphatic "Shit!"  Of all days to happen, it had to happen today.
     I slowed myself down to collect my thoughts.  
Why was I so disappointed it was raining?  Why was I looking forward to spending the afternoon with Mary?  Why is my stomach turning in knots with the thought of not spending time with Mary?   No, no, no, no, no, stop it Darrel.  Lisa Yates is what you want, she's what you need!
     It was 9:00 AM, so I dressed and headed down stairs.  Mom and Dad were seated at the table as I walked into the kitchen.  Mom looked up and smiled the same smile I've been accustomed to seeing the past seventeen years.
     "Good morning Darrel.  Dad and I really enjoyed ourselves last night.  It seemed Mary had a good time as well."
     "I guess," I muttered like I didn't care.  "Is it supposed to rain all day?"
     "Off and on," Dad answered.  "But I think more on than off."
     I guess I let out a disgruntled sigh as Mom looked at Dad and laughed.  
What was that all about, 
I wondered?
     "Are you still planning on working on your project with Mary?" Mom questioned.
     "I hope....I mean, I will have to check and see if she can still go if it's raining," I replied  catching myself, not to let on to my disappointment with the rain.
     "You should do it anyway, even if it is raining," Mom said as she again looked at Dad and smiled.  "You two really need to get started."
     My parents were being weird.  I know they had a good time with Mary, but did they honestly think I was attracted to her?  I just wanted to get my project started, nothing more, and nothing less.  
     The small talk continued as I ate breakfast and got ready to watch football for the afternoon.  I kept glancing outside to see if the rain was letting up, but it was a steady rain.  A rain that would be sticking around for a while.  I kept the phone by my side just in case Mary decided to cancel.  She didn't.
     The doorbell rang at 4:00 PM on the dot.  I heard mom rushing to the front door to answer it.  I got up from the couch when I saw Mary and mom entering into the living room. Mary looked different.  She looked full of life with a glow of being happy.  She still looked raggedy though.  Her hair was a mess and she still sported those same thick ass glasses.  The oversized t-shirt went down past her pant zipper with a couple of holes at the bottom.  She was wearing a pair of combat boots she conveniently tucked her pants in.  She looked stupid, but I didn't care.  I was happy to see her.  
     I glanced outside quickly and the rain had stopped.  It was just a matter of time before it started again.  We needed to get going.
     "Are you ready to go?" I asked Mary.
     She smiled and nodded her head yes, "We're going to get drenched walking through the woods."
     I laughed, "What, are you trying to chicken out Mary?"
     "Bring it on Darrel.  I just don't want your precious truck to get all muddy when we get done at Colapi Creek."
     My truck was precious.  It was a 1985 Ford F-150 with oversized tires so large, you almost needed a step ladder to get in.  It was sweet, a perfect jet black paint job, it was the envy of my friends.  My truck was my baby.  I worked all summer after my sophomore year at the park and rec mowing grass, trimming trees and hauling trash.  Dad agreed that if I earned half the money to pay for the truck, he would pay the other half.  My parents had never done that for my other brothers and sister.  I was sworn to secrecy not to tell them.  As far as they knew, I earned the money myself.
     "Let me go get a couple of towels to put on the seats Mary," I said as I ran off to retrieve the towels.
     "Take a couple of blankets too Darrell," mom yelled.  "In case you guys get cold on the way home.  The next batch of rain is supposed to bring some cooler weather."
     I quickly rushed in with the items under my arm, "Let’s go Mary."
     "Be home before dark," Mom hollered as we walked out the door.
     "It was good seeing you again Mr. & Mrs. Watson," Mary said exiting the house.
     "It's Paul and Ella," Mom laughed.
Chapter 7

     
Mary and I were on our way to my spot on Colapi Creek.  I told her I would usually blind fold my friends whenever I would take them here, but trusted she would keep my spot a secret.  This was the first time we were ever alone together, so one could imagine the awkwardness.  Mary must have noticed it too and turned on the radio.
     "What kind of music do you like Darrel?"
     "Mostly Country," I replied.  "But I will listen to anything as long as it's not jazz or grunge."
     "You don't like grunge?" Mary said with disappointment.
     "Of course not Mary," I stated with conviction.  "Grunge is destroying the hair bands of the eighties.  I still like listening to Poison, Motley Crue, Warrant and all the others."
     Mary laughed, "So you're saying I have the perfect hair style then?"
     I thought, 
did Mary just say that?
  As I looked over at her there was a strong similarity between her hairstyle and the rock bands of the eighties.  It made me laugh out loud, which received a nose scrunch from Mary.  She had a nice nose.  Not too big, not too small.  Her lips were perfect too.  They looked soft to the touch.  The right amount of moisture perfectly placed.
     "Why are you staring at me and not paying attention to the road?"  Mary blurted out.
     I shook my head, "I wasn't, I thought you had something on your cheek."
      We arrived at Colapi Creek and I pulled off the road in a spot next to the old worn down bridge appearing to be on its last leg.  The rain had held off so far, and the sun was out, but off in the distance, you could tell it was brewing again.  The clouds were growing dark and the wind had picked up a bit.  The wind felt good though.  It was a nice break from the hot, humid late September afternoon the previous rains had brought.
     I grabbed the umbrella from behind my driver side seat and we headed down the hill to my favorite spot.  The brush was still soaked and every step you took caused you to get even more wet.  It would be easier to get here once the fall set in, the trees lose their leaves and the weeds die off.  We would just have to manage for now.
     Mary kept slipping down the hill which required me to hold her hand.  I absolutely loved the feel of her hands.  I could only imagine how calloused and gross my hands felt.  She didn't seem to mind.  She held my hand tight as we navigated the slippery slope of a hill.  
     Once we survived the hill, we had to make our way through the thick tree branches.  The rain didn't help this.  The leaves were soaked, and all the branches that would normally be above our heads were hanging low. 
     I walked about five feet in front of Mary trying to clear a path the best I could.  I heard Mary scream and looked back and noticed a sharp branch had cut into her arm.  It was bleeding pretty well and she started to freak out.
     "Darrel, it hurts so badly!" Mary yelled.  "I'm not good with blood Darrel.  Please do something.  Hurry Darrel!
     I wondered why she was freaking out so bad.  "Calm down Mary, it's just a little cut."
     "No, it's not, look how much it's bleeding," Mary cried.
     "I don't have anything to cover it with," I said looking around for anything.  "Let’s just head back to the truck and go back home."
     "No Darrel," Mary continued to cry.  "I want to see your spot.  I need to see it."
     "We can come back some other time Mary," I tried to say calmly to stop her freaking out about her arm.  I loved how she said my name.  I loved how vulnerable she was. I loved how she was when she was alone around me.  "Here, lets rip a piece off of your shirt and wrap it around and that should stop the bleeding."
     Mary obliged.  It wasn't difficult to rip off a piece.  The holes in the bottom of her shirt allowed for an easy tear.  After tearing the piece off, I had her step over it and ripped it into one long piece in order to wrap it around her arm.
     Mary was satisfied with my makeshift bandage and we proceeded to my spot.  To top it off, Mary finally looked like she was wearing a shirt that fit.  It barely hung over her pant line and made the rest of her shirt fit accordingly.
     Minutes later, we reached my spot.  I had Mary cover her eyes before we exited the canopy of trees and onto the creek bed.
     "Oh my God Darrel, it's gorgeous!"
     "Isn't it," I agreed.  "Can you imagine what it will look like when the trees change colors?"
     "Wow Darrel," Mary continued in amazement and beauty of her surroundings.  "How did you ever find this?  It's so....so romantic here.  I bet you've brought a bunch of your girlfriends here?"
     I shrugged my shoulders and stood back and watched as Mary took it all in.  She was so fun to watch, acting like a kid seeing Santa Claus at the department mall.  I sat on my strategically placed log, which allowed me, on a clear evening, to watch the sunset just over the canopy of Red Oaks.  Mary would pick up a rock and unsuccessfully try to skip it across the creek.  
     The creek was overflowing a bit from the rain, and didn't allow for the full area of the creek bed to exist, which, in turn, made it difficult to skip rocks across.  I tried to tell Mary this, but she didn't care.  She must have thrown twenty rocks.  I tried to find her the perfect rock with the flat sides and demonstrated the perfect motion one must have to get the full trajectory of a skipped rock.  It didn't matter.  Half the time Mary would either heave the rock across the creek or hit the side she was throwing from.
     The skies started growing darker and the wind picked up enough to blow Mary's hair in her face.  She looked a mess, but she didn't care.
     "We should get heading back Mary, it's going to pour pretty soon."
     "No, I don't want to leave," Mary said in a begging kind of voice.  "It's so beautiful here.  Let's stay here until it starts, and then we can head back."
     "We'll never make it up the hill Mary," I said while shaking my head admiring her will.  "You had a hard enough time getting down it."
     "Whatever Darrel," Mary said in a childish way crossing her arms.  "I'm not leaving!"
     I gave her an "oh well" shoulder shrug and sat back down on my log.  Ten minutes later, the wind picked up as the dark clouds that signal a heavy rain appeared overhead.  Mary stood on the edge of the water looking straight up into the sky waiting for the rain to pour on her.
     Mary was so free here.  Free to be whoever she wanted.  Free to act however she wanted, and I was witnessing it.  The girl who always hid in her shell at school was fully alive at my spot.  No one was here to make fun of her.  No one was here to give her a look of disgust.  No one was here to make her feel less of herself than she probably already felt.  Mary was beautiful in her own unique way.  
     And then it poured.  I opened up my umbrella hoping Mary would take cover under it, but she didn't.  She continued to throw her hands out wide and take in the coolness of the rain.  Her rain soaked hair fell down on her face and her shirt stuck to her skin.  Her nipples pierced through her shirt showing what must be a perfect C cup she always kept hidden beneath her oversized shirts.  She was unknowingly baring her stomach that was surprisingly in shape.
     Mary brushed her hair back and out of her face making it look like a completely different hair style.  She was so beautiful.  I would have never guessed this person physically and emotionally was hidden underneath the person I first met in the eighth grade.  Mary caught me looking as she gave me sheepish smile.
     "Okay, I'm ready to go."
     "Are you sure?" I asked.
     Mary skipped over to me and fell into my embrace, "Thank you Darrel."
     We managed to make our way back to the last obstacle before being able to get into the warmth of my truck.  The rain continued to come down in buckets and the temperature had dropped a good fifteen degrees.
     Mary tried unsuccessfully to navigate her way up the hill and kept slipping down.  I grabbed her hand and dug my boots into the mud and muck and pulled her up one inch at time.  We would get about five feet up, and we would both slip and have to start all over.  
     I was determined to get her up the hill.  I grabbed a large stick to use as a brace, and with every step, I dug it into the earth.  Inch by inch, we made our way up the hill.  When we finally reached the summit of the hill, I gave one last pull of Mary's arm with all my might and flung her to the top.  She didn't let go of my arm, which caused us both to stumble and I landed on top of her.  
     She didn't push me off as we lay there motionless looking into each other’s eyes, not saying a word, with the rain beating down on us.  Time seemed to be standing still as we lay there with each and every one of our breaths getting faster and faster, knowing, and hoping for what was coming next.  Mary grabbed the back of my neck, closed her eyes, and pulled my lips closer to hers, and we kissed.  It was magical.  Her lips were as soft as I expected.  I placed my hand under her cheek with my fingers resting on the side of her face, and continued to softly taste her lips.  Our tongues rubbing against each other with the synchronicity of a finely tuned engine.  I didn't want it to stop.  Mary had taken my breath away.
Chapter 8