Salvaged (6 page)

(Attie)

Somehow I ended up locked in the upstairs bathroom sitting on
the side of the bathtub trying to calm myself down. It wasn't helping, so I decided to splash cold water on my face to see if that would
bring me around. But when I walked up to the sink and saw my face
in the mirror, my sobs became heavier. Black mascara was smeared
down my face, causing me to look like a deranged clown, and what
was worse, the Bennetts witnessed it.

Confirmation: I was, in fact, a loser.

I was scrubbing my face when Riley's muffled voice penetrated
through the bathroom door. He was talking with a sweet voice and
sounded concerned. After washing the paint off my face, I turned
off the water and mustered up all the composure that I could before
opening the door.

He clumsily fell onto the bathroom floor and stared up at me
in disgust.

"Good grief, Riley, you look more ridiculous lying on the bathroom floor than I did with my clown face."

"I guess I'll have to learn to appreciate your brutal honesty," he
snapped.

Stepping over him, I walked into his bedroom and sat on the
bed. I hoped he would follow, but he never did; he simply lay there
looking like a pile of dirty clothes someone left on the floor.

"You should never talk like that, Charlie, like it should have
been you instead of her. It just isn't good. Surviving is something
never to feel guilty about. God spared your life for a reason. You're
supposed to be here."

Honestly, I didn't remember a thing that I said downstairs
because I burst into tears and started having verbal diarrhea. They
probably thought I'd lost my mind. Little did the Bennetts know
they had welcomed a girl into their home that was prone to hysterics, and I was certain they didn't quite know what to do with me.

Riley didn't look like he was going to move, so I strolled back
into the bathroom and lay down on the floor with the top of my
head against his. I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on the cool
tile floor, and my body relaxed as Riley reached over his head and
began stroking my hair.

I reached over to return the favor but, as graceful as ever, ended
up poking him in the eye.

We were forced to get up off the bathroom floor when Mr. Bennett called upstairs and told Riley to march his butt outside and get
his chores done.

He sat up in a huff. "I can't wait to move away for college so I
don't have to listen to anyone tell me or my butt what to do."

Once downstairs, none of us mentioned the incident that took
place over breakfast, but I caught Mr. Bennett shoot Riley a look or
two of concern. He wanted to know if I was all right, but all Riley
could do was give him a quick nod before getting his slave labor butt
outside to mow the lawn.

Eventually I followed him outside and sat on the porch step as
he made the first few passes of the lawn mower. Once he started
bagging the grass clippings, I walked up and started to help.

"You don't have to help with this," he said, trying to stop me.

I grabbed a hold of the trash bag and held it open. "I need to
earn my keep around here somehow ... and I wanted to apologize for
my behavior this morning. I completely overreacted. Unfortunately,
I tend to do that often, so prepare yourself. It was unfair of me to get
you and your parents so upset."

"You don't need to apologize to me. We're your family; that's
what family's for."

"Is it?" The concept of family felt foreign to me for some reason.
"Did you and your parents have a pow-wow or something? They
said the exact same thing."

"Nope. No pow-wow."

"Thanks." I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. "This is one of
my favorite smells, you know."

"What?"

"Fresh cut grass. I don't know what's so alluring about it, but I
love it, don't you?"

"Maybe when you're the one cutting the grass, the smell loses its
appeal. It does nothing for me."

"Makes sense I guess. To get so wrapped up in the job you can't
enjoy the small rewards."

He stopped bagging and looked up at me with a small scowl.
"You think the smell of cut grass is a reward for cutting it?"

"Idiotic, huh?"

"Strangely, no. Do you think the accident causes you to appreciate little things more?"

"Maybe. I didn't experience this smell last year, so it could just
be the restoration of that memory. Who knows?"

"Do they hurt?" he asked as he dumped the grass into the open
bag.

"Pardon?"

"Your scars."

"Oh, those?" I looked down at one of my arms. "No, not really.
They itch every once in a while, but they don't hurt anymore. They're
ugly, aren't they?"

"No. I don't think they're ugly at all."

"Jesus calls them battle scars."

"Jesus what? You talk to Jesus now?" he asked with a laugh.

"No. Remember, I happen to have a very active imagination."
Looking around the yard, the mowing job seemed monstrous. "Good
grief, this job's going to take us all day."

We continued to work together in a comfortable silence until
Mrs. Bennett brought out lemonade.

Sitting on the porch swing, I laid my head back and closed my
eyes as we swayed back and forth. "I could sit like this forever. There's
something about summer. It's like you're in a different world, even
if just for a small amount of time. Everything slows down, and life
just seems easier."

I opened one eye and peeked over at him. "I've lost my mind,
haven't I?"

"No. Not at all."

"Then why are you staring at me?"

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was." He looked back out at the yard
before laying his head back against the swing. "I guess I wish I could
see things the way you do."

"Have a near-death experience and then spend five months in a
hospital; maybe that'll do it for you."

"I think I'll pass. Maybe I'll just try to start seeing life through
your eyes and see if that works for me."

"Sounds good." I closed my eye again. "Do you have any big
plans this summer?"

"Two-a-days start soon. They keep me pretty busy."

"What position do you play?"

"Tight end."

"I can see that; you've got the build for it. I guess you've got
some speed then too?"

"I guess."

"Keith Jackson and Trent Smith were great tight ends for OU.
Maybe you can play for the Sooners."

"I doubt it. I'm not that good."

"Sure you are."

"No, if I'm lucky I can play at a small college somewhere. Maybe
get a little bit of school paid for."

"That would be helpful, wouldn't it?"

"Sure would."

"Do you like going to the OU football games?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I've never been, but my Gramps just gave me his season tickets.
You'll have to go with me sometime. I can't wait. I've always wanted
to go to a game."

"That'd be great."

"It would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, thanks for inviting me."

"No offense, but who else am I going to ask?"

"None taken. But don't worry, you'll make some friends soon.
But until then, what are your plans for the summer?"

"I'm going to work at Gramps's vet clinic. He said if I would help
out over the summer he would buy me a car before school started."

"Sounds like a deal to me. What kind are you gonna get?"

"An old junk heap. The way I drive it would be nonsensical to
spend a lot of money. It probably won't take me long to get in my
first wre... " I stopped myself. "Well, you know what I'm saying."

"Yeah."

We sat quietly for several minutes. I wanted to sit there for
the rest of the afternoon but knew that we needed to continue our
mission.

"Should we get back to work?" he asked. "Otherwise we'll be
doing this all day."

I opened my eyes and jumped to my feet. "Let's go."

"You should wear shoes, Charlie. It's dangerous to mow in bare
feet."

"Oh, Riley, I didn't get to walk in grass last summer. Can't you
just let me enjoy it?"

"Sure, who am I to spoil your fun? Just don't get too close to the
mower. You end up losing a toe, and with our history the way it is,
my dad'll think I did it on purpose."

(Riley)

I made my way toward my room and saw Attie sitting on the
floor in her usual spot under the window.

"We need to get you a chair, Charlie."

"I'm fine. I like sitting under the window."

The phone rang, and within moments Mom was screaming up
the stairs telling Attie that the phone was for her.

I got a whiff of perfume as she ran past me, threw herself into
my chair, and rolled across the floor until it slammed into the wall.
She smelled amazing, and I hardly cared that she'd thrown her feet
onto my desk.

Her toenails were red.

"Hello?" She spoke into the receiver and grinned as she listened
to the voice on the other end of the line.

I instantly knew who it was. Other than my mother, Anne was
one of the loudest talkers I'd ever heard, and even through a phone
and across the room, I could hear her warmly greet Attie.

Anne was a regular at my house while Melody was alive, and
when Attie visited, the three were inseparable.

I got out my iPod, stuck the buds into my ears, and was just
about to push play when I heard the word boyfriend.

Okay, I reached a moral dilemma. Should I leave the room and
give her some privacy or stay in the room and try to ignore her by
occupying myself with something?

It was a difficult decision, but I chose to stay in the room, pretend I was ignoring her, but actually listen to every word she said. It
probably wasn't the most moral choice, but I was certain that what I
heard would be interesting.

No, she didn't have a boyfriend.

This was not news to me, seeing as how I'd heard her tell Mom
the same piece of information when I was eavesdropping on their
conversation. I realized that I was becoming very nosy but continued
to eavesdrop anyway.

Yeah, some of the boys from her school were pretty cute. No, she
didn't date very much. No, she didn't miss New York; she didn't have
many friends left after the accident, she said.

I noticed that she was about to start flipping through my sketchbook, so I quickly got up, grabbed it from her, and threw it under
my bed.

She pointed to the phone next to her ear. "A little privacy, please?"
She obviously wanted me to leave the room.

"No," I shot back. "You're in my room!"

I pretended to turn up my iPod and picked up a book as she gave
me an evil stare before rejoining her conversation.

"Riley adorable?"

I almost dropped my book but then realized she was asking a
question more than making a statement.

Attie glanced back at me, but I pretended not to notice.

"Jealous? Why would girls be jealous of me? Well, that's just
foolish. It's not like that at all."

I secretly watched as her eyes grew large while she listened to
Anne speak from the other end of the line.

"What do you mean he's `with' her?"

Her jaw dropped.

"Sex?" She threw her small hand over her mouth and then
turned to see if I was listening. Trying very hard not to express any
amusement at the conversation, I focused my eyes on the book in
front of me.

She turned back around.

"Riley... a lot of girls?" Her voice sounded disappointed.

Evidently the news wasn't good because she looked a little woozy,
and before I knew it she threw herself over and put her head between
her knees. I sat up slightly so that I could hear more clearly.

"What?" she squealed.

She threw her body straight up against the back of the chair,
causing it to roll back into the wall. It was like I was watching The
Exorcist or something.

"Virgin?"

My entire body froze in fear of getting caught just as the conversation was getting good.

She was trying to whisper, but I could still hear her quivering
voice. "I'm only sixteen, Anne. Of course I'm a ... virgin."

Just as I was beginning to feel relieved, she dropped her head
back between her knees and miserably failed at whispering again.

"Seduced?" Attie looked like she was about to pass out again,
and it was becoming nearly impossible for me to act like I couldn't
hear her screams.

"I've got to get out more," she said, dazed as she sat back again
and put her head in her hand. Poor thing looked like she'd just come
off of a roller coaster that beat her to a pulp.

After talking for a few more minutes, she hung up the phone
and sat in a trance-like state as she stared at my closet door. "Sex,
seduction ... good grief, where am I, Dawson's Creek?" Finally gaining her composure, she stood and walked out of the room.

That was by far the strangest half of a conversation I'd ever
heard, and Attie Reed was getting more and more interesting by
the minute.