Chapter 12 “Babe,” she said, “I have to go to Truste, Loade, and Surn.”

March 28, 2009 at 10:49 pm (Uncategorized)

             Scarlett and Lazarus sat at his table in the apartment ready to dive into a dinner of chicken parmesan and broccoli.  It was a week before fall break.  Lazarus uncorked the bottle of Pinot Noir and poured a glass for each of them.  She watched him as he did this. 

            Seeing her looking at him, he smiled and said, “Okay, now what is this all about.  Why are we having this fancy dinner?”

            He watched her face get sad and saw a year’s worth of apprehension descend upon it. 

            “Uh-oh,” he said, “Unless I am interpreting this wrong, something bad is coming.  Let’s make this a happy dinner and talk afterwards, especially after the wine had been flowing.”

            She smiled, and they started eating.  After the dinner was done, Lazarus poured them each another glass of wine, and they retired to the couch right behind the table and sat facing the fireplace.   Scarlett put her legs across his lap, and he stroked her legs. 

            “Babe,” she said, “I have to go to Truste, Loade, and Surn.”

            Lazarus choked on his wine, spilling a little on the black but already stained couch.

            “What?  Why?”

            “It’s part of the requirements.  Pyrle says it is just for the week.  Trust me when I say that I didn’t know about it until today.”

            “And he expects you to drop everything and go there during break?”

            She nodded and put a hand on his shoulder.  Then she put her wine glass on the table and leaned in and hugged him hard.  He could hear her crying into his shoulder, and it turned into huge rocking sobs.  Lazarus put his arms around her and hugged her back, his stomach dropping out at high velocity.  She pulled back and the tears were running down her cheeks, little rivers of fear. 

            “I’m scared too,” he said. 

            They slept that night clinging to each other, trying, at least until they fell asleep, to minimize the space between them as if that could erase the physical gulf between them which was coming in the following week. 

            Lazarus woke to his phone beeping that he had a new text message.  Scarlett groaned and rolled over away from him.  Bleary eyed he grabbed his phone.  The time was 11:15 a.m., and the message was from a number he did not recognize.  He opened the text message and read it.  He did not need to know who had sent it.

            It said, “Go now to the marsh, and follow Amelia.  Learn more about her.  Now.”

            Glancing over at Scarlett who had gone back to sleep, he pulled the covers off, got dressed in yesterday’s clothes, and left.

            The marsh was steaming as the fog burned off from the morning sun.  He found a truck parked at the edge and saw Amelia off in the distance, a mere speck of humanity in the totality of nature.  The marsh consisted of brown and green, waist high plants, and plenty of muckiness.  As soon as he stepped into the marsh, his tennis shoes started sinking into the mud, making small squishing sounds.

            “She’s in the middle of nowhere on a Saturday morning,” he grumbled, “What the hell is she doing here?”

            He snuck close and saw that she was wearing thick wading boots, dirty jeans, and a brown pullover.  To top it off, she stored her brown hair under a beret cap.  Amelia stood in the marsh with a small spiral notebook pad in one hand and a pair of binoculars in the other.  Every so often she would snap the binoculars up to her eyes and scan the skies or trees for birds that she saw.  Lazarus was impressed with the speed of her snap.  He was close enough to hear her mutter to herself as she watched and wrote down the birds she saw.

            “A flock of black ducks, spectacular.  Twelve.”

            Lazarus rolled his eyes.  His legs were growing stiff from crouching in the reeds.

            “Ohh,” she said not looking in her binoculars, “One poorly dressed idiot hiding in the plants.”

            Lazarus tensed, cracking a stick.

            “Who can’t stalk worth a damn,” she continued, “Why don’t you come out and introduce yourself.”

            Lazarus stood up as red as the windbreaker he was wearing.

            “My name’s Amelia,” she said.

            He looked at her proffered hand and shook it.

            “So, what are you doing out here?  Aside from watching me?”

            “Uhh.”

            “Well spit it out.  I haven’t got all day.”

            “I was, uh, watching you,” he said.

            “Not shit, Sherlock.  What do you-”

            She stopped, cocked her head, and then snapped her binoculars up to the sky as a miniscule bird flew by.

            “Want?” she said, turning back to him.

            Lazarus was unsure how to continue.

            “Well,” he said as he scratched his arm, “I was hoping I could take you out for coffee.”

            There was a silence for a second and then as Lazarus was about to leave, Amelia burst out laughing.

            “Just like you took my sister to your room for a beer.  The argument she got into with Todd over you.  From the way she tells it, nothing even happened.

            “Nothing did happen.  We both passed out.”

            “Well that’s a relief.  I knew she wouldn’t cheat on her fiancé, though they broke up.”

            “I guess she should have seen that coming,” he said, “He’s gay, right?”

            “Yea, so why do you want to take me out for coffee.  I work at a coffeehouse.”

            “Uh, right,” Lazarus said, “Well then how about a beer.”

            “I don’t drink,” she said,” but I always wanted try.  Don’t worry I’m 18 and over 21.”

            “What?”

            “You don’t think your reputation doesn’t precede you?”

            “Oh, yeah,” he said, “That reputation.  I’m a changed man now.”

            “Sure, that’s why you’re out stalking girls in the middle of a marsh on a Saturday morning. Who’s responsible for that?”

            Lazarus stood still for a second, almost saying Scarlett, then he said, “Me.”

            “Hmmph,” she said, giving him another once over, “Here’s my number, now get out of here.  You’re scaring all the birds away with that red blazer.”

            He took the paper, “It’s a wind breaker, and I’ll see you around.”

            “Well, yeah.  I’m giving you another chance.”

            She turned away from him and went back to watching birds.  Lazarus left, feeling he had nothing else to say, mostly just grateful to get out of there.

              Chapter 11                                                 Chapter 13