Unbroken Connection

  I feel nothing.

  To me, it’s just a big white statue.

  Leesie wants to sit quiet after everyone leaves, but I have to get out of there. She finds me outside sitting on a stone bench, staring at my hands.

  Her eyes are misty. “Thanks for bringing me here. I haven’t seen all this since I was little.”

  I stand. “Can we go now?”

  She falls asleep on the drive back to Provo. I love her asleep. When she finally gives in and marries me, I’m never going to sleep. I’ll lie there, holding her close, and watch her all night. And when her eyes open, I’ll show her everything love can be.

  I watched her worship her God tonight. I don’t have room in me for anything like that. My heart’s full. I worship Leesie. I don’t want to share her with God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy whatever. Without them, though, she wouldn’t be Leesie. She’s willing to share me with scuba—becoming a part of it. I got to be patient with her God stuff.

  Her eyes open when I park the RAV4. She doesn’t speak. She just slides over the center console, joins me in my bucket seat. We don’t make out. I wrap my arms around her. She snuggles her face against my neck and falls back to sleep. I loosen her braid, stroke her damp hair and dream. We both wake up an hour later, cramped and cold. It’s ten to midnight.

  She whispers, “This isn’t good.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Come in with me and warm up a few minutes before you go home.”

  “The car has a heater. We can warm up here.” I find her lips.

  She pulls back. “I love you way too much tonight to chance it.”

  “You mean the nights we make out you don’t love me?” I kiss her again.

  “I have nasty breath.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You have nasty breath, too. And I do care.”

  I laugh at her—kiss her neck while she reaches for the door handle. She pulls the handle, the door releases, and we spill out.

  When she gets me inside the kitchen with my jacket off, she looks at the clock. “You have four minutes.”

  The roomies, everyone except Tawni, are standing around a plate of brownies. Big fat ones dripping gooey frosting.

  I flash them my best grin. “For me? You shouldn’t have.” I reach for the top brownie on the tower.

  “No, no.” Dayla blocks my hand. “These are special brownies for Tawni.”

  Lily leans forward. “She drank all my soy milk. And then bought stupid plain milk and said I could have that.”

  My eyebrows arch upward. “You little saintesses made loaded brownies?”

  Roxi says, “Not loaded with what you’re thinking.”

  “ExLax?”

  “Way better.” Dayla’s face takes on a definite hero-worship expression. “Roxi is a genius.”

  Roxi turns on the light over the table and peers hard at the brownies. “They look okay. We do need to taste them. If we used too much, it might be kind of bitter.”

  “I’m not tasting it.” Lily pulls back.

  Cadence puts down her guitar. “I will.”

  Roxi holds up her hand. “No, it’s my plan.” She takes a pinch of brownie and chews it carefully—spits it in the sink.

  Leesie frowns. “That gross?”

  “No—” Roxi’s face splits into a smile. “The chocolate masks it pretty well.”

  I’m freaking to know the secret. “What’s in them?”

  “Ethylene blue. You get it at the pet store.” Roxi and Cadence bump fists. “Totally safe. Just turns your pee blue.”

  I’m starting to get why Leesie calls this place the Zoo. Any other school those brownies would be packed with a pleasant mind-altering substance.

  Not here. They are too holy for that.

  But piss-altering? Go right ahead.

  Dayla jumps into the explanation. “Wikipedia says it’s only a problem if you’ve got a bad liver or you’re pregnant.”

  Cadence looks around at the other girls. “Okay. I’ll say it. She could be pregnant.”

  Lily’s eyes jump out of her head.

  They all look at Leesie. Roxi wrinkles up her nose. “Do you think her and Kanyon are—”

  “I don’t know. They had clothes on when I walked in on them. But she’s not pregnant.”

  I’m intrigued. “You’re like a doctor?”

  “Hardly necessary. She left some nasty jeans on the floor yesterday.”

  Lily stands up. “That’s so disgusting. I don’t know how you live with her.”

  Leesie shrugs. “I just washed them. What else could I do? I didn’t want to walk over that all day.” She turns to me. “It’s past midnight, Michael. You have to go.”

  I get out of there fast. The chicks were getting way too real.

  I call this morning—early—for a brownie report.

  Leesie whispers, “She’s asleep—but half the plate is gone. Kanyon must have been here, too.”

  “So how will you know if it works?”

  “We’ll know—hang on. She just got up.” Leesie breathes into the phone. “That’s her slamming the bathroom door.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Don’t be a perv. What do you think is happening? Just shut up a minute.”

  I strain to hear the action. Was that a muffled flush? A door slams. Then Leesie’s voice. “She stormed out of the bathroom with a terrified look on her face. Maybe she thinks that fake stuff—”

  “You mean those aren’t real?”

  “I’m sure you thought they were real. They’re hard. It’s creepy.”

  “How do you know? That’s creepy.”

  “She lets complaints slip. They hurt, too. She’s always popping pills.”

  “She sounds messed up. You need to go tell her.”

  “Are you kidding? My roomies will kill me. Shhh….”

  I hear a bustle. The blare of Tawni’s voice—unintelligible. And then Leesie’s back. “She ran out. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “Call her.”

  “Okay. You’re right.”

  She hangs up.

  My phone rings a minute later. “She won’t pick up. I left a message. Everybody else is up. They want me to fill them in.”

  She hangs up. I can imagine the cheering.

  I’ve never seen Leesie like this. I don’t like it. It’ll be good to get her out of here for a few days at Thanksgiving.

  Chapter 20

  GRATITUDE

  LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 11/23 9 AM

  Kimbo67 says: Leesie!

  Leesie327 says: Cool. You unblocked me.

  Kimbo67 says: I need all the friends I can get these days. Even wacky brats like you.

  Leesie327 says: YAY!!!!!

  Kimbo67 says: Sorry I flipped out on you.

  Leesie327 says: No big deal. I shouldn’t have gone all preachy. I love you, Kim. I was worried.

  Kimbo67 says: And I was a stupid slut.

  Leesie327 says: Don’t call yourself that. So, how’s shower guy?

  Kimbo67 says: He kicked me out.

  Leesie327 says: What?

  Kimbo67 says: His real girlfriend got back from a study trip…and there I was messing with her man.

  Leesie327 says: Where are you staying?

  Kimbo67 says: Back in my room with that creepy Markstealing skank.

  Leesie327 says: Are you okay?

  Kimbo67 says: Yeah, but she won’t be. Will you visit me when they lock me up for skankacide?

  Leesie327 says: Can you trade with somebody?

  Kimbo67 says: Impossible…everybody hates her.

  Leesie327 says: So you’re stuck—just like me.

  Kimbo67 says: Sucks…we should be having a blast. You should transfer here.

  Leesie327 says: I’m starting to get used to Tawni. Michael gave me a big lecture. He says I should try being nice. I’m best at nice. So far she’s ignoring it, but who knows?

  Kimbo67 says: Michael? You haven’t been online much. I thought may
be you guys broke it off again.

  Leesie327 says: Nope. He’s here.

  Kimbo67 says: In Utah????? How???

  Leesie327 says: Saved a damsel in distress and got the bends. Had to take time off. Showed up on my doorstep.

  Kimbo67 says: Wow. You’re really together again.

  Leesie327 says: As together as we can be.

  Kimbo67 says: Gosh, he loves you…no other guy would put up with that…I’m sorry what I said about you guys last time. If it works for anyone, it should work for you.

  Leesie327 says: That’s sweet. I’m sorry Shower Guy didn’t last.

  Kimbo67 says: You knew it wouldn’t…and it hurts. Crap, it hurts…not like Mark, but…I know I put up a good front…I really tried not to get emotionally hooked into him, but I did. I’m used to loving someone…I have to love someone.

  Leesie327 says: Not just sleep with them?

  Kimbo67 says: When you have sex, even if its just recreation, you’re acting like you love the guy…and then all the sudden, if you keep it up, you do love them…and that’s such an amazing feeling, you want more and more…can’t get enough.

  Leesie327 says: Listen, Kim. Michael’s taking me home for Thanksgiving. Big surprise for my family. Do you want to get together on Friday?

  Kimbo67 says: With you and Michael? I’ll pass.

  Leesie327 says: I’ll let him hang out with my dad.

  Kimbo67 says: Don’t be silly.

  Leesie327 says: At least stop in Sunday on you’re way back to Pullman.

  Kimbo67 says: Won’t you be catching a plane?

  Leesie327 says: Not until Monday. I want to max out the time at home. Michael’s happy. I had a thing set up with the missionaries. Now he’s got a week’s reprieve.

  Kimbo67 says: Cool…it would be great to see you.

  Leesie327 says: Have you seen Mark?

  Kimbo67 says: Uh-huh.

  Leesie327 says: How’s he look?

  Kimbo67 says: Awful…Shower Guy hurt him as much as I wanted it to.

  Leesie327 says: He doesn’t want to see you destroy yourself. He still loves you.

  Kimbo67 says: Yeah, the stupid jerk.

  Leesie327 says: Maybe he’s not so stupid.

  Kimbo67 says: Maybe he is.

  LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK

  POEM #62, HOME

  I embrace the golden sky

  and fill my nose, head,

  eyes, throat, lungs, brain full of precious

  pine—hang on to that breath as long as I can

  hoping some seeps permanently into my olfactories.

  The other car rental lot patrons hustle by,

  head down, searching the pavement for lot numbers.

  Michael watches my every move—like I

  watch his—memorizing, mesmerizing,

  hypothesizing, anesthetizing, romanticizing.

  We drive home past lion-colored wheat stubble,

  bare pea fields, and rich rolling brown winter crops,

  plowed and planted. Faded leaves falling.

  Pines crowding every hollow, standing sentinel

  in windbreaks that green the field edges.

  The sun sinks and the hope in my heart rises

  as we speed closer and closer.

  Pig perfume greets me along

  with spent chrysanthemums.

  I run for the door, leaving Michael to

  dawdle embarrassed in my dust.

  “Mom! Mom! Dad! Stephie? Phil?

  Mom! Dad?” I crash into Mom

  coming from the kitchen, catch

  her in a giant hug.

  She’s as delirious as I am.

  “Oh, Leesie-girl, how’d you get here?”

  She sees Michael behind me and goes stiff.

  “An accident in Thailand. Time off.

  Showed up. Brought me

  home. We’re—”

  So in love.

  I can’t say it.

  She reads it in my face.

  “Don’t be like this, Mom.

  You did it. He can, too.”

  She unwinds enough to shake

  his hand.

  Stephie ricochets into the room.

  Michael catches her up, tosses her high,

  gets her giggling. “How’s your kitten?”

  “Big!” She makes him toss her again.

  Then it’s Dad and Phil.

  Dad hugs me and Michael—calls

  him “son” like always.

  Even Phil hugs me quick and whispers,

  “Cool. She’s coming tomorrow.

  You’ll get to meet her.”

  “Stop. Stop.” Mom hushes the room. “Freeze

  you two. I got to get a picture of that. No one

  will believe me.”

  The joy in me transcends the smile on my face.

  It tingles through my body,

  the purest happiness,

  the most wondrous elation,

  the love of forever.

  MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #10

  DIVE BUDDY: Leesie

  DATE: 11/26

  DIVE #:—

  LOCATION: Teacup

  DIVE SITE: Leesie’s farm

  WEATHER CONDITION: sunny

  WATER CONDITION: slight chop

  DEPTH: who knows

  VISIBILITY: good

  WATER TEMP.: okay

  BOTTOM TIME: 4 days

  COMMENTS:

  I called Gram to let her know I was coming home. She’s too frail for Leesie-style surprises. Leesie’s mom had already invited Gram out to the farm for Turkey Day, so we’re all together. Nice.

  Leesie’s mom is too busy cooking and fussing over Gram to glare at me. Not as awkward as last night. When the food is ready, the family gathers around a huge dining room table loaded with turkey, all the traditional dishes, and three different fruit and Jell-O salads. Before we eat, Leesie’s dad prays. They don’t do anything freaky like kneel or hold hands or make me say something. They all bow their heads and fold their arms. Her dad starts thanking “our dear Heavenly Father” for just about everything. I zone until I hear my name.

  “Thank Thee Michael is safe, and he and Mrs. Walden can be here today.”

  Leesie lets one arm unfold. Her hand slips under the tablecloth and rests on my knee.

  “Bless and strengthen them as they continue to find their way. Help them carry on.”

  I put my hand over Leesie’s, rub the tiny scars that are so faint now.

  “Help them find joy and happiness despite their loss.”

  Is he saying that to me? Is he giving me his blessing? My happiness—his daughter?

  I peek. Gram is crying—that makes my eyes go misty, and I spend the rest of the prayer blinking hard against the emotion. I have it under control by the time they all say, “Amen,” and open their eyes.

  As soon as the prayer is over, crazed food passing commences. Phil sits on my right. He doesn’t say much more to me than, “Can you pass me the gravy?” He’s got his creamy-skinned, innocent-eyed Mormon girlfriend, Krystal, sitting across the table from him. Massive footsie going on there. I almost got caught in it. Guess they have hormones, too.

  Hormones or not, Phil manages to polish off three plates of turkey and mashed potatoes.

  Leesie’s mom asks Gram question after question about this flower or that bush. Gram loves it. I can’t remember seeing her so animated.

  At the end of the meal, Stephie puts a black olive on the end of each finger and bangs them together.

  “Stephanie Marie Hunt you stop that this instant.” Her mom frowns and glares. Stephie jams the olives all in her mouth. Chews fast. Gets giggly with all of us watching her. Loses it in a fountain of tiny bits of black olives.

  Krystal is next to her. Gets the worst of it. She squeals first, but then laughs, and hugs the little brat. “Come on, Stephalina, let’s go get cleaned up.”

  Phil goes after them.

  Stephie comes back. Phil and his woman don’t.

/>   Leesie’s mom’s eyes drill Leesie’s dad this time.

  He shakes his head. “Give them a minute. Don’t you remember being young and in love?”

  She scowls at him. “Yes, dear. With you. That’s why I’m concerned.”

  He blushes full on. Her mom stands up. “Come on, Leesie. Help me with the pies.” They both grab food to be put away and leave. Gram gets up, picks up a giant bowl of Jell-O, and follows them. She can’t stay out of the kitchen long. Stephie looks at her dad and me and grabs the empty olive dish. “I’ll help, too.”

  Leesie’s dad leans back and shakes his head. “Families.”

  Freak, I wish I had one. I look down at my empty plate, stand to clear it.

  “Leave that.” Leesie’s dad motions for me to sit back down. “Well, son, I’ve never seen Leesie so happy.”

  “She’s glad to be home, sir.”

  “Thank you for bringing her.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It means a lot to her and to us.”

  “I’d do almost anything for her—you know that.”

  “Almost?” His eyebrows draw together. “What wouldn’t you do for her?”

  Now my face gets hot. I’m probably redder than the cherry pie I watched Leesie make this morning. “I love her. And she loves me. I tried to let her go, but—I’ll look after her. I promise. I’ll never disrespect her.” Our eyes meet. He knows exactly what I mean. “What would you think if we—if I asked her—”