Eternal Spring (A Young Adult Short Story Collection)

  “Good luck with the interview,” I said.

  “Thanks. I need it. Been out of work for almost a year now. Savings are gone. We keep moving around hoping to get a break.” The man smiled, showing straight white teeth.

  He looked about my dad’s age, and he seemed rather decent. Just down on his luck. I wondered if my mom would mind if I brought him home so that he could have dinner with us.

  I scanned the area.

  “You looking for someone?” the man asked.

  “Yes, my girlfriend.” At least I thought she was still my girlfriend.

  “Girlfriend, huh?”

  “She just walked by a minute ago, tall blonde, around my age.” Where could she have gone? There was nothing across the street but a bunch of abandoned buildings near the highway.

  “I know her,” the homeless man said.

  “You do?” Something in my gut felt weird.

  “Better than that.” The homeless man stood up. “I know where she lives.”

  I had never been to her house. She said she would have me over after she got settled.

  “Follow me,” the man said as he crooked a finger.

  “By the way, I’m Tim.”

  “My name’s Ed, a free living spirit. I guess you could call me a homeless bum.” He winked.

  “No sir, I wouldn’t call you that.”

  “You’d never know that I used to own a construction company, drive a Hummer, even had two Rolex watches and take month long vacations. My kid got everything she wanted. And now, I can’t give her anything. We even have to shower at the YMCA.” His eyes began to tear up. “The economy tanked, no one is buying houses. I lost everything.”

  “I’m sorry.” My stomach felt like a big tangled knot.

  “I work hard and I’m an optimist. So this will all get better.” Ed smiled.

  We walked along the sidewalk, and eventually ended up in a vacant lot behind some abandoned buildings.

  He tapped me on the arm. “Right over here.” He pointed to a powder blue conversion van.

  “There?” I asked.

  “You’ll find her in the van.”

  “Oh?”

  “That’s our home.”

  “Whose home?”

  “Gabrielle and I. She’s my daughter.”

  My head was spinning. My God. She’s homeless.

  Why hadn’t Gabrielle told me? Didn’t she trust me? Why had she put on such a front? All lies. I was angry and confused. Shoot. I was pissed. Damn, I was an idiot for falling for her lies. My face twisted as I shook my head.

  “I’m sorry, Tim. Didn’t she tell you?” Ed asked.

  “No, sir.”

  “She’s embarrassed, and I can’t blame her. Listen, I have to go now and catch the bus, cheaper than paying for gas for the van. It was nice to meet you.” Ed jogged away.

  My legs felt like they were stuck in cement. The van sat a few feet from me. What do I do, knock?

  Just then, the van door opened. Gabrielle climbed out. She saw me, and her face turned white. Her hands clenched. “What are you doing here, Tim?”

  “Your dad, I mean I saw you by the hotel…” the words jumbled as they came out.

  “Leave…Now.” She was shaking.

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “How do you know I wouldn’t understand? You didn’t even give me a chance. And all along I thought you were too good for me.”

  “Oh so now you’re too good for me, a homeless girl?”

  “No, I didn’t say that. I said, with all the stories you told me, I assumed you were embarrassed of me.”

  “So, now you’re embarrassed of me?” She was waving her hands around.

  “No, that’s not what I said.” I put my hand up, as if to say hold on.

  “But it’s what you meant.”

  “No, you’re wrong.”

  “Get out of here. Whatever we had is over.” She flailed her arms as if shooing away an annoying fly.

  “Obviously, whatever we had was based on lies.” I felt a lump in my throat. My hands trembled.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Gabrielle screamed and her face turned red. “Go. I never want to see you again.” She climbed in the van and slammed the door.

  I ran.

  I didn’t stop to catch my breath until I reached the Marshal House.

  Why didn’t she trust me? Why did she lie to me? I liked her for who she was, not because of what she had or didn’t have.

  “Excuse me,” a lady said as she bumped into me.

  It took me a second to register that it was the red-haired lady with the big bag I’d been looking for. “Hey, Miss. Miss.” I caught up to her as she walked into the hotel lobby.

  “Yes sir, can I help you?” She asked.

  “Remember me, I’m Tim from Leonardo’s Ice cream shop,” I said. “The ice cream guy.”

  She clutched her big bag and held it tight against her. “Yes, that’s right. I met you last night.”

  “Can I please ask you something?”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you remember when I left you alone for a few minutes? Well, it’s just that I was wondering if anyone had come into the store while you were there.”

  “No. Why?”

  “Something was taken, and I’m in big trouble.”

  She tightened her mouth and bit her bottom lip. She let out a sigh. “Come over here for a minute.”

  I followed her to a quiet corner of the lobby.

  She reached into her big handbag and pulled out the missing shadowbox. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Mr. Leonardo and the lady sat near one of the tables in the ice cream shop. The shadowbox had been returned to its original spot. The lady told us that one of the three original owners of Leonardo’s was her great grandfather. When she saw the picture inside the shadowbox, she felt compelled to borrow it so she could make a copy. She said she was so emotional seeing her great grandfather in the picture that she said she couldn't think straight.

  Turns out that Stanley was more than forgiving. He offered to make her copies of any other pictures of her great grandfather that he had. He was so relieved to have the original autographed script back, that he decided not to press charges.

  After the lady left, Stanley said, “You know there is still the reward.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I should never have left the store. I don’t deserve any reward.” I continued sweeping as he talked to me.

  “No. You deserve it. My word is my word. I got everything back intact. And I have you to thank for it.”

  “It was also my fault it was stolen.”

  “No matter.” He pressed five one hundred dollar bills in my hand.

  “I can’t take it.”

  “I insist. Don’t you want to go to prom?”

  “Yes, but there are people who need this more than I need to go to prom. Would you please give this to Ed and Gabrielle?”

  “Who are Ed and Gabrielle?”

  I explained their situation to Mr. Leonardo. I told him that I could not take the money to Gabrielle because she was mad at me. I grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled directions to their blue conversion van on a piece of paper. “Please give them all of the reward money, okay?”

  “Sure son,” Stanley patted my back. “You’re a good kid.”

  Saturday night.

  Paper cap: check. White apron: double check. Stuck at work while everyone else is at senior prom: triple check.

  While I waited on customers, I glanced out the store window. Limos drove up and down Broughton Street. The Thai restaurant next door had a steady stream of guys in tuxes and girls in long dresses entering their door.

  The dance would start in an hour. Pretty soon, I wouldn’t have to see any more of my classmates doing something I wanted to do. They would all be tucked away at the dance.

  A group of girl scouts dressed in green shirts and their trademark hats walked in. I began taking their
order.

  As I served the last girl scout, Mr. Leonardo entered.

  “Good evening,” I said to him. “Welcome to Leonardo’s. Established in 1919.”

  He smiled. “Good greeting, rule number 2.”

  I gave him a thumb up.

  “By the way, you’ve got the night off.” Mr. Leonardo grinned.

  I dipped a scoop in the ice cream and filled a cup. “No sir, I’m sure I’m on the schedule. Remember, after the picture thing? I couldn't afford to go to prom, so I signed up to work.”

  “Well.” Stanley put on an apron and grabbed a paper cap. He snatched a crayon and wrote his name on it, and put the hat on. Then he took the scoop out of my hand. “You’re off now. I’m training someone new tonight.”

  “Oh.” I just got fired. My face probably looked like it had slid off my skull.

  “You’re not fired. You just have the night off.” He smiled.

  “Really, I don’t mind working. I have nothing else to do.”

  Just then, the bells clanged on the door. Ed and Gabrielle walked in. Gabrielle was dressed in a long ruby red dress, her hair up in a bun. She looked gorgeous.

  “Hi, Timmy,” she said.

  “Hey.” Obviously, she was wearing a prom dress and not going with me. Did she come here to gloat? “You’re all dressed up. Are you going to prom?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” My heart sank.

  “I’m so sorry about the other day. I’m sorry about lying, about everything.” She reached over the display case and touched my face.

  “Me too. I was a jerk. I just thought you didn’t trust me.” Seeing her again made chills run up and down my spine like an electric current. “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I was embarrassed.”

  “You don’t have to be. I mean, there are a lot of people in your shoes.”

  “Size seven and a half red stilettos?” She smiled.

  “Except me. I have brown loafers.” I grinned at her.

  “We’ll have to fix that.”

  “My shoes?”

  “Yeah I think you need shiny black patent leather shoes, size eleven right?”

  “Huh?”

  “Come over here.”

  She grabbed me, and we embraced in a long hug. Our mouths met in a passionate kiss.

  All the while Stanley was behind the counter serving a customer. Ed walked over to Stanley and shook his hand. Stanley handed Ed an apron and a paper hat.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “When Mr. Leonardo came over to give us your reward money, my dad and he talked. Dad has a job, plus we’ll get to live in the two bedroom apartment above the store.”

  “Wow. That’s great.”

  A white limo pulled up right outside of Leonardo’s.

  “Timmy, will you go to prom with me?” Gabriele asked as she squeezed my hand.

  My mom and dad got out of the limo. My dad was holding a garment bag. My mom carried a boutonniere in a clear container.

  “What’s going on?” I felt confused.

  “This is all for you, for us.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked.

  “No lies. It’s all true. We’re going to prom. That is, if you’ll go with me.”

  For a moment or two I couldn’t speak then I said, “Of course.”

  My mom and dad grinned from ear to ear.

  “We’re proud of you, son. You did the right thing. You helped a family in need. Stanley called us and told us everything.” My dad handed me the garment bag and a pair of shiny black shoes. “You earned this.”

  My mom gave Gabrielle the flower.

  Ed and Stanley stopped working long enough to give me a thumbs up.

  Gabrielle grabbed my hand, “Are you ready?”

  “I was born ready.”

  “Then you should take this off,” she pulled the paper hat from my head. She grabbed a crayon and wrote, “Cute boyfriend” on it. “Now it’s perfect.”

  I took another paper hat and wrote 'Hot chick' on it, and then gave it to her.

  We laughed as we made our way to the limo while my parents, Ed and Stanley looked on.

  Oddly, our paper hats were the envy of every person at prom. Sometimes, the worst things turn out to be the best.

  ***

  Lois Lavrisa writes “mystery with a twist.” Her first novel, Liquid Lies, asks the question “Would you tell the truth, even if it meant losing everything?” The main character, Cecilia “CiCi” Coe, has to answer that question, before anyone else is killed. Lois is now working on her cozy mystery series, The Chubby Chicks Club, about sassy southern sleuths who are neither all chubby nor all chicks, set in Savannah, Georgia. They’re a rag tag group of friends who find themselves investigating a friend’s mysterious death, with time running out for them to find the killer before the killer finds them. Book One in The Chubby Chicks Club should be available in Summer 2012. For more information, visit www.loislavrisa.com.

  Back to Table of Contents

  Potionate Love

  By

  P.R. Mason

  "There's only one way I'm going to get him," I whispered to my friend Gracella as the math teacher droned on. "A love potion."

  The object of my adoration, Ronny Tallsman, sat in his first row, corner seat, blissfully unaware of my feelings or the plot. From my position in the second row, on the opposite side of the classroom, I had a perfect view of his profile. A faint wave curled his chin-length blond hair. His eyes—which I knew were a shade of vivid azure—darted between the board and his note pad as he scribbled with his pencil. He frowned and bit his full bottom lip before scrubbing at the paper to erase a line of writing. Then he shook his head, sending the curls swaying.

  "You gotta take me to see your great aunt, the voodoo priestess," I continued to Gracella.

  "Root doctor, Tina." She shot the correction under her breath from the seat beside mine without her head turning. If I didn't know better, I'd believe she was concentrating on what Mrs. Blake was writing on the chalkboard.

  "Root doctor. Voodoo. Same thing."

  "Not really," she said.

  "But she can do a love potion, can't she?" I pleaded. "You told me she did one for your cousin and now your cousin's married."

  "Yes but...Oh, I wish I'd never told you that."

  "Constantina Dimas," the math teacher called on me.

  My attention snapped forward.

  "Here, Mrs. Blake." I thrust my hand in the air.

  "Can you answer the equation?" She tapped the stick of chalk against the board three times while glaring at me. She obviously knew I hadn't been listening to a word she'd been saying.

  I glanced at the foot-long problem and threw out the answer. "u/c = 9.352."

  "Correct," Mrs. Blake said between grinding teeth, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Thank you, Constantina."

  My being a math prodigy came in handy to cover for my lack of attention in class. My parents insisted that next year I enroll in Senior honors math. I had to take advantage of this year to coast. Only trouble was, my attitude irritated Mrs. Blake and she relentlessly tried to catch me out.

  "There's something unethical about this," Gracella whispered.

  "Ronny's not going out with anybody, so it's all right."

  "Why do you want to go out with him?" My friend Nathan asked from the chair behind mine. "He's a stupid jock. He plays football."

  "Yes but he also plays lacrosse," I hissed back.

  "So what?" Nathan argued.

  "That means he's cultured," I said.

  Nathan gave a disgusted huff. "This is dumb. You can't make someone want you with a love potion. I thought you were going to be a scientist. This is totally a contradiction to anything scientific or logical."

  "It fits perfectly." I spoke under my breath and over my shoulder. "I want Ronny to take me to the Spring Science Fair Fiesta Dance this Friday."

  "What does that have to do with anything?" Nathan's breath was hot on my ear.

&
nbsp; "That makes it science-related." I waved at my ear as if swatting a fly.

  "Constantina Dimas," the teacher demanded, making me cringe. She was really trying to get me today.

  Not hesitating, I answered,"10x minus 3."

  The teacher stared at me silently for a moment and then nodded before turning back to the board for more scribbling. "Does everyone else see how Ms. Dimas reached her solution?"

  "Besides," I continued to Nathan. "The Chinese part of me may be good at math and science, but the Greek part is superstitious."

  "What Greek part?" Nathan asked. "You're adopted. You're all Chinese."

  "Constantina Dimas," the teacher demanded. "Can you give us the answer to the next problem?"

  "Y equals x squared over 3x minus 2," I said almost immediately.

  Her mouth pursed so tightly I could count the twenty-three lines wringing her mouth. "Correct," she finally said.

  I raised my hand again and the teacher fixed her gaze on me before nodding to give me permission to speak again. "Yes? What is it?"

  "Mrs. Blake. I'm not calling myself Constantina anymore."

  "What?" She gaped at me.

  "Right." Nathan inserted himself into the conversation. "Now it's Istanbul, not Constantina."

  His comments produced a few snickers quickly quelled by the furious glare of Mrs. Blake. "Do you both realize this is a serious class?"

  "My point is serious, Mrs. Blake." I ignored an unrepentant Nathan chuckling behind me. "I want to be called Tina. Just Tina."

  "Just Tina doesn't have the same ring as Istanbul," Nathan inserted to the whole class. "Besides, calling yourself Just seems like you're bragging."

  This time the chuckles bounced loudly around the room until Mrs. Blake pounded the chalk to pulp on the board.

  "Students. Come to order," she yelled, clapping. She wiped both hands against each other trying to get rid of the white dust. "As to the comedy team of Nathan Whitefield and Constantina Dimas, both of you report to the principal's office immediately."

  Fantastic. I glanced at Gracella and grimaced. She shot me a sympathetic smile in return. Slipping from the seat I gathered up my textbook and other things to slink out of class in humiliation. Nathan, on the other hand, seemed to take a bow.

  The hall was silent and empty of everything except the aroma of dirty gym clothes. The classroom door had barely closed behind Nathan when I scream-whispered at him, "How could you get me thrown out of class? We'll probably get detention."