The Athena Effect (18 page)

He chuckled, and then he started laughing, slow at first and then harder as she joined in. Soon they were both immersed in a soothing turquoise sea of amusement. He handed her a helmet, climbing on the bike and starting it up.

“Get on,” he told her, eager to feel her touch.

She climbed behind him, putting her book bag between them and taking him by the waist. She felt him leaning back into her, his broad shoulders warm against hers. He was vibrating with the most delicious shade of fuscia she’d ever tasted, and when they made contact she could feel him sigh with relief.

She sighed too, because his colors made her feel the most contented she’d been since before the accident. As much as she was afraid to admit it, it felt like somebody loved her, and the feeling was intoxicating. They arrived at school much too soon.

He pulled into the lot but didn’t cut the engine. He turned around, murmuring in her ear, “Do you want to just bag it and go to the art museum today?” he asked her, “In San Francisco?”

He was radiating warm affection and hope. Caledonia looked at the low grey institutional buildings of school and back at him. She chose happiness.

He smiled his relief, pulling back out onto the road. Within a few minutes he had dropped off her bag at his house and handed her a leather jacket, “It’s gonna be cold.”

They headed down the highway, passing by hills and valleys, towns and farm fields. The air grew cooler, and then moist. Caledonia pressed her cheek between Calvin’s shoulder blades, tasting the salt in the air, mingled with his easy blue contentment. Then they rounded one last corner, and the view that unfolded before them made her gasp.

She clutched him tighter with excitement as she took in the endless expanse of deep blue water. She’d seen pictures of the sea, but they hadn’t prepared her for its sheer majesty, and she drank it in, her heart swelling with joy. Calvin pulled off the freeway just before they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco, coming to a stop at a lookout point.

He pulled off his helmet, “Are you okay?”

She followed suit, scrambling off the bike to rush to the edge of the walkway. Leaning against the rail, she took in the panoramic view, breathing in the cool fresh sea air through her nose. She turned back to Calvin with an enormous smile, and he came over to join her.

“Let me guess,” he grinned his lopsided grin at her, coming up close to stand by her side.

“I never thought it would look so… so…
big
,” she said.

Calvin looked out at the horizon, trying to imagine how it would seem to him if he’d never seen it before. He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, wanting to be as near to her as he could possibly be. They stood there for a few minutes, hip to hip, and she shivered a little bit with an unfamiliar happiness.

Emboldened, he turned towards her, “Are you cold?” he asked, his breath warm in her ear. She froze, thinking she had to keep control of herself; they were, after all, only two good friends out on an adventure. She didn’t realize that he was about to lean in for a kiss when she turned her face away, cringing into her shoulder.

“No… I’m just happy,” she told him.

He was unable to resist brushing his lips across her hair, finally sighing, “Ready to see the museum?”

She looked up at him, her eyes bright, “Completely.”

They crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and entered into the hustle and bustle of the city. Once again, Caledonia carefully observed all the new sights and sounds. They drove through a vast park, winding past botanical gardens and paths crowded with joggers and dog walkers.

Calvin pulled up and parked close to a large modern building. He climbed off the bike, stowing their helmets and stretching out his arms. He held his hand out with a smile, “Knife please. They don’t like them in museums either.”

“People fight in museums?” she asked, horrified.

“No… But they might damage the art.” The shocked disbelief on her face made him realize exactly what a crazy world it was.

“I don’t have it with me today,” she told him.

“Why not?” he asked.

She thought about her newfound powers, “Because I’m not afraid anymore.”

They wandered across the grounds, and he took hold of Caledonia’s hand, watching her head swivel around, taking in as much as she could. Walkways lined with tall palm trees and fountains led them to a pair of giant sphinx sculptures, standing guard over a the stairs leading to the entrance. She laughed and climbed up onto one of them, smiling down at him, bursting with peachy pink joy.

She slid down from the statue, looking at the other people coming into the entrance. “I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately,” she worried, looking down at her worn jeans.

“You’re perfect,” he told her, taking her hand to lead her inside.

They walked into the museum, wandering from gallery to gallery and pointing out their favorite paintings and sculptures to each other. Calvin showed Caledonia things he remembered from a visit long ago, and she saw his colors cloud over with a melancholy blue.

“My mom liked museums,” he said. “She used to take me here a lot when I was a little kid.”

“You must miss her,” she squeezed his hand gently, soothing him.

“Yeah,” he smiled sadly at her, “I do.”

It felt good to acknowledge it, and his mood lightened. As usual, being with Caledonia had stirred up more submerged memories. They bubbled up to the surface along with a rush of conflicting emotions; around her, his feelings were as difficult to contain as the dancing mercury of a broken thermometer.

Caledonia seemed to know everything about the paintings and the artists that created them. She was like a museum docent, relating little anecdotes about the historical era they lived in, what their families were like, and whether or not their lives had ended happily.

“How do you know all this stuff?” he asked.

“I’ve read a lot of books about art,” she explained. “And there was a lot about artists in the encyclopedia too.”

“What… did you read the whole encyclopedia?” he teased her.

“Yes,” she replied solemnly.

“How do you remember it all?” he asked.

She shrugged, “I don’t know... I just do.”

They strolled past a painting of primitively rendered jungle animals, and Caledonia stopped abruptly, gasping in surprise.

Calvin read the nameplate aloud, “The Peaceable Kingdom. Hicks. 1846.”

She latched onto his hand tighter than she ever had before.

“What is it?” he asked.

She took a deep breath, “We had a copy of this picture hanging in our house… Mama cried when Papa brought it home.” She stared at it with shining eyes, “She told me that he took her to a museum on their first date. It must have been this one… They must have stood right here… on this exact spot.”

He understood the feeling, slipping his arm around her waist to draw her closer. She smiled up at him, “Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

He looked down at her, thinking he’d never seen anything so beautiful. He couldn’t stand it anymore, and he bent down to kiss her softly on the lips.

Her amazing eyes flew open wide with surprise, but she did not pull away, so he turned to wrap his arms around her, pulling her up against him. His kiss deepened, and then she was drowning in the sensation of his lips, his tongue, and his breath mingling with hers. She could see why all the other girls liked it so much.

He reached up to caress her cheek and rake his fingers through her hair, flooding her senses with the most delicious red she’d ever tasted. Her knees buckled, and he dropped his hands to her waist, steadying her and bringing her closer at the same time. When their lips finally parted they were both panting.

He pressed his cheek to hers, “Whoa,” he whispered into her ear.

A museum guard strolled past them, clearing his throat pointedly, and they collected themselves, walking hand in hand through several more galleries in a daze. They rounded a corner into an unattended room full of African masks and he was all over her once again, taking her face in both hands and kissing her again like it was the first time.

Calvin never wanted to stop; it was like the floodgates had opened up, and all of his suppressed desires overcame him. He looked into her innocent eyes and his heart swelled with the power of his newfound feelings. She blushed self-consciously, and he pulled back, trying to get control of himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Caledonia was dazed too, overwhelmed by the intensity of their flaming emotions. “Why?” she asked, “Am I doing it wrong?”

He held her close and started laughing, shaking her with the force of it. Soon they were both laughing with happiness, drawing the attention of the museum guard. They straightened up and moved through the gallery, with Calvin trying his best to pay attention to the art and keep his lips away from her soft pink mouth. They passed through an archway into a gallery of art from Oceania, and came to a display case of shields and masks carved of wood, alongside planks and oars decorated with swirling waves, triangles, and rows of dots.

“Look!” she said, pointing out the carvings on the side of a ceremonial drum. “It’s the same as your tattoo.” She leaned in, reading the description of the piece.

Calvin looked closely, surprised to see the exact same design he was wearing on his arm.

“It says it’s for honoring ancestors,” she smiled up at him. “So it’s perfect for your mom.”

He stood behind her, taking her by the waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. He read the description along with her, amazed at the coincidence. He wouldn’t have known a thing about it if it wasn’t for her; he felt like it was some kind of sign.

“All of this stuff is in their permanent collection,” Caledonia said quietly. “So that means that my parents saw it too.”

Standing there, wrapped in Calvin’s arms, Caledonia was happier than she could ever remember being. She leaned back into him and he pressed into her; before too long he was kissing her neck and ear, his warm lips making her dizzy.

He burrowed his face into her hair. “You smell good,” he murmured.

“It’s the pheromones,” she replied.

“The what?” he laughed.

“You know… chemicals.”

“No… I’m pretty sure it’s you,” he kissed her behind the ear, making her giggle. She sighed with pleasure and melted into him. The museum guard strolled past them again, his footfall pointedly loud.

“Let’s get out of here,” Calvin whispered into her ear.

They walked out into the bright shining day, arms locked together.

“Have you ever heard of Fisherman’s Wharf?” he asked her.

~

Suddenly everything between them had changed, and they walked hand in hand, neither one wanting to break physical contact. Bathed in contentment, they took in the sights and sounds together, mingling with tourists from all over the world. They stopped to watch the street performers and Caledonia smiled at them all, charmed. When Calvin dropped a dollar into an open guitar case she asked him why.

“That’s how they make their money,” he explained, constantly amused by her inexperience.

“How much do you pay them?”

“You’re not really paying them… It’s more like you’re showing your appreciation for what they do.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” she asked.

He chuckled, and had to admit she had a point. They stopped and watched a juggler toss flaming batons into the air alongside a magician producing doves from a top hat. Caledonia gasped with amazement, her eyes bright. There wasn’t a cynical bone in her body, and the performers played to her, singling her out of the crowd to pick a card or assist in their performance. Calvin thought she was more fun to watch than they were.

He kept his arms around her as much as possible, loving the way it felt to be able to touch her whenever he wanted to. He spoke under his breath, “You do realize… That it’s not really magic, right?”

She rolled her lovely eyes at him, “I’m not stupid. I’ve read books about magic tricks… I’ve just never seen it done.”

He whispered in her ear, “You’re the only one who can do real magic.”

Their eyes met again, followed by their lips, and they ended up spending most of the day kissing. They sampled the food stands, feeding some remarkably docile seagulls that landed at their feet when they sat on benches that faced out towards the dancing sea.

She tried to pay, but he wouldn’t let her. “It’s okay…” she said. “I got my money back this morning.”

“Your aunt finally wised up?” he asked.

“No. I just… I have the situation under control now.”

He raised his brows at her, his eyes asking the question, but hers clouded over and she turned away. Caledonia was unwilling to discuss her newfound power, and he let it go, keeping his mouth shut and taking her hand quietly.

Their perfect day was over much too fast, and they climbed back on the bike just as the fog started to roll in. It engulfed the city in a cool, damp cloak, following them across the bridge while the sun set over the western sea. She turned back to see a grey blanket creeping across the mouth of the bay, swallowing everything in its path.