Eternal Spring (A Young Adult Short Story Collection)

  "If you're serving detention, maybe you'll give up this stupid idea about going to a voodoo priestess."

  "Root doctor."

  "Same difference."

  "Aghhhhhh." I whirled on one heel and marched down the hall.

  Nathan followed on my heels, chuckling. "I'm sorry."

  I didn't answer.

  "What can I do to make it up to you?"

  My silence left his question hanging.

  "Okay," he said, as we rounded the corner to the administration offices. "No more jokes about Istanbul."

  My disgusted harrumph should have warned him not to continue.

  "But it's funny," he went on. "You know that song? It's Istanbul, not Constantinople."

  Stopping mid-hall, I turned on him, giving him my best evil eye. "Nobody but a nerd like you would know that old song."

  "I'll have you know there was an excellent cover version in 2006." When he continued he sang, "Been long time gone, Constantinople."

  "It's not funny. My name is the bane of my existence," I said.

  "Turkish delight, on moonlit night."

  I had to smile at that despite myself. "Why do I hang out with you?"

  "Because you're secretly in love with me and you want my hot bod?"

  "Right," I said with sarcasm. Not that Nathan was ugly or anything. In fact, he was kind of cute. But in that brown shirt, with his shaggy hair dyed green, he could pass for a palm tree. The glasses did spoil the tree effect somewhat. Besides, Nathan was smart and funny. When he wasn't teasing me about my name, I usually considered him my best friend, although I wouldn't have admitted that tidbit to Nathan.

  "I'm true to my love for Ronny," I added.

  "Ronny's never even spoken to you."

  "That's immaterial to the equation."

  "What equation?"

  "Me plus love potion plus Ronny equals date to the dance."

  With Nathan's laughter ringing in my ears, I opened the office door and went inside.

  The tire of Gracella's 1987 Buick LaSabre hit a rut in the dirt road, and my head hit the inside of the car roof.

  "Ow," I yelled. "What the heck was that? A landmine?"

  In the backseat Nathan shouted, "Doesn't this thing have any shocks?"

  "Quit bitching. I can barely see. It's so dark. And we're only out here so late because you two had to serve detention." Gracella clutched the wheel. In the dim glowing light of the dashboard speedometer, her knuckles appeared white despite her cocoa color.

  She was right about the darkness. With no street lamps and barely a sliver of a moon, the headlights of this old beater hardly made a dent in the inkiness of the night. The rotten egg smell told me this marshy area must have a lot of sulfur in the soil.

  "We're only here because Miss Istanbul wants a love potion," Nathan remarked.

  Gritting my teeth, I didn't answer him. If I stopped reacting to that nickname, maybe he'd drop it.

  "Good point," Gracella exclaimed.

  "Let's go back to Savannah," Nathan said.

  "No." I braced against the dashboard with one hand and the door with the other to keep from bouncing wildly again. The seatbelt could only do so much. "We're almost there."

  "Maybe," Gracella said. "It's been a while since I was out here."

  "Great. Now we're lost," Nathan whined.

  "We aren't lost," Gracella snapped. "At least I don't think so."

  Nathan unbuckled himself and leaned up between the front seats.

  "Are you crazy? You could fly through the windshield. Buckle yourself back in," I yelled.

  "Come on," Nathan said. "If we head back now we can make it to Buddy Burgers before they close. I'm buying."

  Gracella slammed on the brakes, and I threw out one arm like a railroad crossing gate to hold Nathan back.

  "There it is." Gracella pointed down an offshoot from the road.

  The house sitting alone in the midst of the woods was a small, square box. But even in the darkness, it seemed well kept. Whole conch shells marked the outline of the front yard.

  Gracella pulled down the driveway and parked. We tumbled out of the car, and my legs wobbled as if I'd been out to sea and tossed in a storm. As we walked toward the house, the path crunched under our steps and, glancing down, I observed a mixture of broken shells and dirt spread along the way. The porch light revealed yellow clapboards on the house, Haint blue on the porch ceiling and trim, and white pickets on the banister.

  "What's with the blue?" Nathan asked.

  "It's supposed to keep away evil spirits," Gracella answered.

  "Doesn't seem to be working. You're here," I teased Nathan as we reached the porch.

  "Yeah, Nathan. Could you please not be such a tool in front of my great aunt?" Gracella added. "She could put the bad mout curse on you, and turn you into a toad or something."

  "Ha," Nathan scoffed, although he did squirm a bit.

  Gracella knocked at the door and it swung open.

  The woman inside couldn't have been more than thirty-five. She wore a flowered caftan with a scarf tied around her hair, enhancing her ebony skin color.

  "Titi," she greeted Gracella and embraced her. "You is so tall dese days."

  "Aunt Vandi." Gracella smiled broadly as she pulled back. "Thank you for seeing us. These are my friends Tina and Nathan."

  "Aye ya." Aunt Vandi took my hand, speaking with her Gullah accent. "You da one what need the love potion joso."

  As I nodded, Nathan inserted, "No. She doesn't need any mumbo jumbo magic stuff."

  Aunt Vandi reeled around to examine him with narrowed eyes. "Mumbo what, bohbo?"

  Nathan blanched, obviously seeing his future life as a toad. With head lowered he mumbled, "Nothing...Ma'am. Sorry."

  After a few seconds Aunt Vandi cocked her head to the side. "A'ight I see you good bohbo what jes wanta p'otect your gal."

  Nathan mumbled something unintelligible.

  Aunt Vandi turned back to me and took my hand again, examining the palm. "Why you want this potion, zactly?"

  "I ummm. Want ummm..."

  "You nervous gal?" she asked. "If you not sure the joso not work."

  "I'm sure," I replied. "I want the love potion so this guy I like—Ronny Tallsman—will ask me to a dance."

  "Dis strong magic you play with." Her eyes locked with mine, and it seemed as if she was seeing straight down through me to the calluses on my soles. "You okay if he has love for you dat last long time?"

  Swallowing down a lump, I nodded.

  "A'ight," she said, twisting to pick up scissors from a table next to us.

  Before I could say anything, she snipped two of my fingernails. Then sweeping my shoulder length hair back, she took a lock from the nape and cut it off too.

  Coming out of my stunned shock, I glanced at my friends and saw them as surprised as me.

  "Hopefully, that won't show," I joked. "I'll never get Ronny to take me to the dance if I have a bald spot. Potion or no potion."

  Nathan scowled. "If you wanna go to the dance so bad, Istanbul, I guess I could force myself to take you."

  "Thanks," I said through clenched teeth, trying to tamp down the kernels of hurt his words caused. He had to force himself?

  "Yeah," he continued. "You clean up okay. You wouldn't be a total embarrassment."

  The kernel popped like Orville Redenbacher's in a microwave. "Wow, what a fantastic offer," I retorted. "But I wouldn't want you to lose your creds with the other geeks. I know you guys only date supermodels."

  "It's okay," he said with a smirk. "Any sacrifice for a friend."

  Reaching up, I gave a yank to a clump of his hair. "I wouldn't be seen on a date with anybody who had a messy mop like this."

  "Oww," he protested, rubbing his head. "Sheesh. Are you trying to give me a bald spot to match yours?"

  Aunt Vandi, peering down her long nose, contemplated Nathan and me for a few moments before making a tut tut clucking noise with her tongue.

  "I take these to make poti
on. Beeback." With that she swept through a beaded curtain and disappeared into the bowels of the house.

  About five minutes passed with Nathan harping at me and me sniping in response.

  "Honestly you two," Gracella said. "If you don't knock it off, I'll leave you here and you can get back to town through the gator-infested marsh."

  As she finished the last word, her aunt stepped back into the room. Aunt Vandi walked past Nathan, and he jumped, startled.

  "What is it, bohbo? You act like I may turn you into toad or sompin."

  "Hehe." Nathan tried to laugh.

  Aunt Vandi stopped in front of me and held up a capped vial. Inside was a brownish red powdery substance. "Dis potion. It make this Ronny guy take you to the dance and it bring you love. Dis what you want?"

  I nodded, and took the vial with trembling fingers.

  "Take care no one but your guy swallows dis mixture."

  "Swallows?"

  Nathan snickered. A genuine laugh this time.

  Duh, Tina. Somehow it hadn't occurred to me I was going to have to get Ronny to take the love potion.

  Gracella held one side of the sign against the lip of the table as I held the other. Applying a piece of the tape, I affixed my side before standing back to take a look. The signed screamed in block letters: Lacrosse Team Fundraiser Bake Sale. Brownies $1.

  We'd set up in a corner of the cafeteria, and a few pre-lunch students milled around us, eyeing our progress. On the table, we had three-dozen brownies. Each had been wrapped in plastic and decorated with a slender ribbon bow. The ribbons were red and blue on the normal brownies. We'd decorated two special love potion-filled brownies with yellow ribbon and then hidden them safely inside a picnic basket.

  "Tell me again why we have two special brownies?" Gracella asked.

  "We have a spare, just in case something happens to one."

  "Like what?"

  "Like it falls to the ground."

  "This isn't going to work." Gracella shook her head and wrung her hands.

  "It will work," I said, arranging the brownies in precise spaces on the table. "Our target loves brownies. I've noticed him getting one every time they have them in the lunch line."

  "Why would we be fundraising for the lacrosse team? We aren't on the team, and we aren't on the insipid cheer squad."

  "So? Anybody can have school spirit," I defended. "It's common knowledge the school board cut funding for athletics and everything but football is suffering. Besides, we'll actually donate the money, so we aren't cheating anyone."

  "What if Ronny doesn't eat lunch inside today?" Gracella asked.

  "Shhhhh," I whispered. "Don't say his name. Just say target."

  "Okay, what if the target—"

  "He has to eat lunch inside. If he doesn't, we're walking the halls with the brownie until we find him. The dance is tonight. This is the last chance."

  Gracella frowned, and her lips formed a pout. "How do we sell these things?"

  Pushing past her with a huff, I swiped one of the trays from the table and put two brownies on it before thrusting the tray at her. "Just hold this out and say, 'Would you like to buy a brownie? Only a dollar to support the lacrosse team.' Can you remember that?"

  "Maybe I should write it down." She glared at me, hands on hips. "Of course, I can remember that."

  When the bell for lunch period rang, we were inundated with customers. We quickly got down to our last dozen brownies.

  "Crap," I said when we reached a lull. "I didn't think we'd sell this many. What if we run out of cover brownies before he shows up? Sell slower. Let's raise the price."

  Nodding, Gracella got out a sharpie and was drawing a line through the dollar price when Nathan sauntered up.

  "Poison Ronny yet?" he asked with a chuckle.

  "Shhhhh." Scanning the nearby students, I didn't see anyone who seemed to have heard him. I grabbed his arm. "I'm warning you, Nathan. Shut the frig up or else. Don't mess this up for me."

  "Okay, okay," he said, twisting out of my grip and throwing his arms up in surrender. "I'll be good."

  He walked over to the table. "Can I have one of these things?"

  "Oh all right," I said, waving in his direction.

  I began to worry. What if Ronny didn't show up? I'd discounted Gracella's comment earlier, but we were getting to the end of the lunch period and he still hadn't come in.

  "I'm not gonna get a tainted one am I?" Nathan picked a brownie with a blue ribbon and eyed it.

  "No, of course not. Those are hidden."

  At my answer, Nathan opened the wrapping and stuck the entire thing into his mouth.

  Just then, Ronny entered through the cafeteria's swinging doors. My heart leaped into my throat before racing as if I'd started a fifty-meter dash. Whirling on my heel and giving an excited hop, I ran to the table and opened the basket.

  "He's here," I whispered to Gracella as I got out the two yellow ribbon brownies and put them on my tray. "This is it. Keep Nathan busy so he doesn't interfere."

  She nodded, and I turned back only to see the target had passed us and was on his way toward the lunch line.

  "Ronny," I called in a panic. "Fundraiser for the lacrosse team?"

  He glanced over his shoulder. Tossing his blond hair back and out of his eyes with one motion, his brows converged in confusion. "Fundraiser?"

  "We're selling brownies."

  "Brownies?" He smiled and crossed to me as he inspected the contents of the tray. Then he examined my face. "Do I know you?"

  "Yeah."

  "You aren't on the girls' team are you?"

  "Team?"

  "Lacrosse."

  "No. I'm in the science club."

  He frowned.

  Stupid, Tina. He can't understand why you're doing this.

  I hastened to add, "But I love to go to the games and it's a real shame about all the funding that was cut."

  "Yeah." Nodding, Ronny thrust a hand in each of his pockets. After digging around, he shrugged. "Sorry. I don't have any money today."

  He started to walk away. Damn, damn, damn.

  "That's okay," I said before he could take more than two steps. "Brownie's on me."

  He turned back. "Really?"

  "It's for a good cause."

  "Hey," he said, taking one brownie and appearing to toast me with it. "Thanks."

  "You're more than welcome." Relieved, I smiled and placed the tray on the table.

  He pulled off the yellow ribbon, opened the plastic and took a bite. After making a yummy sound, he swallowed. "I love brownies."

  "I know."

  "What?"

  "I mean that's good."

  After he finished off the brownie, he gave me a half smile.

  Woohooo. The love potion was already working.

  "I know where I've seen you before," Ronny said. "Math class. You're the girl who always knows the answers."

  Better to be known as the beautiful one, but at least he'd noticed me. No need to be choosey.

  "I've been wanting to talk to you about something," he continued.

  "What?"

  "Well." He glanced around him. "It's kind of a long story. Can we meet somewhere later?"

  Omigod, that brownie was a miracle. He'd already asked me out.

  "A date?" I said, trying to keep my excitement hidden but failing completely. Be cool, Tina.

  "Ummm." He glanced around again before turning back to me. "Okay. A date. But I'm not sure where we should..."

  "How about the Science Fair Fiesta Dance?" Way to be cool.

  He blinked. "Why not?" He grinned. "How about if I meet you out in front of the school about seven?"

  He's not going to pick me up? was my first thought. Don't look a gift jock in the mouth. At least he's going to the dance with you, was my second thought.

  "Yeah, sure," I said.

  "See you there," he tossed over his shoulder as he walked away.

  With an excited wiggle, I ran over to Gracella who was selling
a brownie a few feet away. I clutched her arm mid sale, and her tray of brownies spilled.

  "Hey—"

  "Never mind those," I said as the customer gave a disgusted huff and stalked off. "Ronny asked me to the dance."

  "You're kidding." She jumped up and down, giving a little clap. "That's great. Wow that was fast. Now we can rub it into Nathan that we told him so."

  In concert, we turned to the bake sale table and saw Nathan stuffing another brownie into his face. Three wrappers lay abandoned on the tabletop: three pieces of plastic, a blue ribbon, a red ribbon and... a yellow ribbon. The yellow ribbon.

  "Oh my God. Nathan what have you done?" I exclaimed.

  He gawped at us as he swallowed the last of it. "What?"

  Pushing open the door to the boys' restroom, I yelled, "Make yourself throw it up."

  A freshman washing his hands at the sink, reeled back as if I'd struck him. Staring at me goggle-eyed, he quickly fumbled with the faucet handles to shut off the running water. He checked his fly. Was he concerned he hadn't hidden the equipment?

  "You said that already and it isn't helping. I can't just barf on cue." Nathan's tortured voice bounced off the tile walls and echoed out to me.

  "Stick your finger down your throat," I shouted.

  "It isn't working. I'm trying."

  "Try harder."

  "Tossing my brownies wouldn't be necessary if you hadn't poisoned me."

  The freshman flinched then swayed, close to fainting. Trembling, he made for the door without drying his hands. When he passed by me, the kid leaned away as if he was playing limbo and I was the pole.

  "What are you looking at?" I demanded.

  At that his eyes widened further, and after clearing the door, he began to run down the hall.

  Gracella, who'd gone to get her cell phone from her locker, rounded the corner and came in to view. She almost collided with the freshman going the opposite way.

  When she reached me, she shook her head. "It's no use. I can't reach Aunt Vandi. I left a message but that's the best I can do right now."

  "Great."

  "How's it going here?" she asked. "Is Nathan—"

  The flush of a toilet interrupted her question. Nathan staggered out of the stall and lurched to the sinks. Turning on the water, he first washed his hands and then cupped some water into his mouth. After sloshing it around and spitting it out, he splashed some water on his face.

  I backed out of the door with a grimace and a shrug. "It might be okay. He didn't seem any different. In fact, the way he's been yelling at me, I'd say he's not in love."

  "Good. Maybe we won't need my aunt."

  Nathan came out of the boys' room.