Southern Exposure
Chapter 17
Melanie was right, I hoped. My being with Jason was for the best. It was obvious that whatever was lurking in the shadows of Jason's photograph posed a great danger to us, and perhaps all of Boonsboro. For that to be true, Benjamin and the others had to have some idea of who it was. I did not feel the finality they did, after all, that was always part of my plan, but I was consumed with fear for Jason's safety. As painful as this was, my demise was probably the only way I could have ever left him. For now, I wanted to be with him. I looked down at my clothes. They were covered with a cracked layer of dried creek mud. I ran back inside to change and grabbed the first thing I found. On my way out the front door, Tink hollered.
"Take the pickup to cover your tracks."
Even in my haste to get to school, I couldn't keep my eyes off the surrounding countryside as if I might see an army of thirsty vampires speeding toward Boonsboro. School had already started by the time I got there. Mrs. Hall gave me a pass even though I didn't have an excuse. I raced down the hall and settled into Latin class—I thought it would never end.
In Art, I managed to talk Cathy into going to the game with me hoping I had that much time. We talked more than usual; but when the bell rang, she said she had something to do and she would catch up. I crashed though the doorway into the cafeteria, anxious to see Jason.
"Oh my God," Lisa said to the cheerleader sitting next to her. "She's like a little kid racing downstairs at Christmas—how melodramatic."
I spotted Jason. He was sitting at one of the back tables with Alex and a few of the football players. The room felt anxiously quiet; everyone watching me. I slinked over to our usual table and sat down. Slowly, the conversations resumed. Cathy came in a few minutes later and sat down across from me.
"How come you're not—" She stopped, her gaze suddenly focused behind me.
"Mind if I—"
"We. Join you?" Alex interrupted.
I glanced over my shoulder—Jason and Alex were waiting, trays in hand.
"Sure," Cathy replied. She slid her books over and Alex sat down next to her.
"Hey," I said as Jason sat down next to me. "You guys are taking a huge social risk," I warned.
"Not as risky as a girl taking on the football team," Alex replied.
Cathy looked confused.
"Didn't she tell you?" Alex continued. "See, she decided she wanted to be a receiver—to show us up."
Cathy gawked at me. "Are you serious?"
Alex focused his attention toward her.
"How you holding up?" Jason whispered. "You don't look any worse for the wear."
I gently slapped his arm. "That's not what a girl wants to hear, you don't look worse—"
"Yeah, I pretty much suck at the small-talk thing." He winked.
"Would you go to the homecoming dance with me?" Alex whispered to Cathy. His face was crimson. "I know it's kind of last minute, but—well, I've been afraid to ask."
Cathy looked at me, stunned. I nodded that she should accept.
"Uh, I only have black—"
"Excellent." Alex said, a smile filling his face. "I have a black, silk shirt I can wear."
"Seriously?" Cathy checked, still unsure as if this was a setup for some cruel joke.
"Absolutely, this is awesome." Alex turned his back to Jason and me again.
"You give anymore thought to coming to the dance?" Jason asked.
I shook my head. "But Cathy and I are coming to the game."
"Great—hey Alex, they're coming to the—"
"Yeah, yeah, old news bro. Maybe we can double for the dance."
Obviously Jason wasn't going to let this go. He was going to be hurt—and I hated that—but it had to be, especially now.
"Could I walk you to class?" Alex asked Cathy.
"I guess."
"Want me to carry your books?"
"That's okay. I've got them." Cathy glanced at me, her expression a mixture of confusion and elation.
I winked. "See ya."
She waved and left with Alex.
"That's pretty cool, huh?" Jason said, getting up from the table. "I've been working on him for a couple of days now. He's liked Cathy since middle school, but just couldn't get up the nerve to ask her out."
"Yeah, I'm happy for them. She needs someone."
"And you don't?"
"I didn't say that."
"You might as well have." He held the door for me and changed the subject. "Can you believe the game is tomorrow?"
"I know, the week's gone by so fast."
When we got to History, Jason dropped his book bag on the desk. "Listen, I don't want to be a pain, but you sure about the dance?"
"I'm sorry, but it has to be this way."
"Alright."
We had a test in class, so we didn't get a chance to talk again until the bell rang.
"Meet you after practice," Jason confirmed.
"Outside—alone—at night—not such a good idea."
He looked confused, but accepted my assessment. "My house then, Mom's been dying to get acquainted."
"Your mother?"
He shrugged. "She knows how important you are to me."
"I don't know."
"Inside—not alone—a better idea. I'll pick you up after—"
"No, I'll meet you there."
"Should I have a towel ready?" He winked.
"Not funny."
"Well, I'll see you then." He kissed me on the cheek and jogged off to his last class.
"I thought you two weren't an item," Coach said from the doorway.
"He's still trying."
Coach Singleton scratched his head and closed the door behind me. I couldn't concentrate in class. This was likely the last class I'd ever attend if Melanie was right. A high school drop out, I thought, what a loser. If losing all this wasn't bad enough, I wasn't going to get the revenge I so desperately wanted. Somehow, it didn't seem so necessary. At least I'd get the last part of the equation, destruction. I guess I could accept that as long as nothing happened to Jason.
I watched practice for a little while after school. The boys taunted me, teasing that they were as good as me now. I noticed that Derrick and Andy weren't there. Perhaps Coach had finally figured out the real problem with the team. I didn't wish ill of them. I hoped they'd learned a lesson and would grow up to become better people. Finally, I waved to Jason and drove home to see if there were any changes.
Tink emerged from the house when I got to the front steps. It was obvious from his expression things had changed.
"They're gone?" I gasped, not feeling the presence of the others.
"Nathan has taken Melanie and Elizabeth to their place so Melanie can get a few things. Benjamin is waiting for you upstairs."
"Why are you still here?"
Tink smiled, twirling the piece of straw in the corner of his mouth. "Benjamin is waiting."
"I can't believe you split up. Who's idea was that anyway? Did you all forget the whole strength and vulnerability conversation? Numbers are definitely a strength." Then it dawned on me, maybe they spit up hoping one of us would survive. "What changed?"
Tink held the door open and nodded toward the staircase inside. "Benjamin."
I shot passed him and up the stairs, but hesitated outside Benjamin and Elizabeth's room.
The door opened. Benjamin met me with as warm a smile as I had ever seen from him. "Please, come in, Izzy." He bowed and stepped to the side.
If I hadn't realized the weight of what was coming, I did now. "That bad?"
"No, not at—" He seemed to sense my skepticism. "Do you remember our talk about the battle of Lambs Knoll?"
"Yes, you were painting." I stepped into the room.
"I was a good officer, skilled in the nuances of battle, the brutality and the subtleties. Until that day I served my men well and since that time I have done my very best to protect this family."
"I didn't mean to question your authority or your intentions." For the f
irst time I noticed the walls were bare. "What happened to your paintings?"
"Packed away for safe keeping." He strolled over to a small table and picked up a glass of brandy. "Care to give it a try?"
"I'm under age, remember?"
"In so many ways you are more than mature enough for a drink."
"So what happened while I was gone? What changed?" I steered the conversation back to the immediate situation.
Benjamin swirled the brandy in his glass and drew in a long, slow breath, savoring the aroma. "Nothing happened. Nothing has changed, but we have had time to reevaluate our situation. I believe the threat is real, but not immediate. Time is on our side for the present. While you attended classes, we had time to do a thorough scan of the area extending out more than ten miles. There are no new signs of our visitor."
"There was just the one in the photograph?"
"It would appear so, at least for the time being."
"So what does that mean?"
"It means we have time," Benjamin said, setting his glass back on the table. He took my hand, kissed the back of it, and then drew me into his arms. "You enjoy the game tomorrow, everything is under control."
"So we're staying?"
"You and Tolliver are staying. I will rendezvous with the others and continue to monitor the situation."
"Am I putting Tink at risk?"
Benjamin did not answer which meant I was putting Tink in danger.
"I don't have to stay—" I stopped, because I knew otherwise. I did have to stay to say my goodbyes. Benjamin understood that. I kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for understanding."
"We'll see you in a couple of days."
"Izzy," Benjamin comforted, "I would not leave you if I did not think—no, if I was not sure it was safe."
"Then why can't we all stay?"
"There are arrangements to be made if indeed we have to leave, or if we choose to stand and fight."
"Fight? No."
Benjamin nodded that he understood. "From what we learned on our reconnaissance, our visitor has gone, back the way he came. There are two possibilities, one, he did not find what he was looking for—doubtful, or two, he will return with reinforcements. Either way, we have a few days. This afternoon, we left fresh tracks down the backside of the mountain to the road as if we were withdrawing. If he does return with reinforcements, the trail should lead them away."
"You make this sound like a military operation."
He patted by back. "Just the way I talk about this kind of thing. Years of training, you know."
That made it seem a little less formidable, but I questioned the sincerity of his words.
"Tolliver will see to everything." He glanced out the window. "I must go now, Elizabeth will be expecting me." He walked me downstairs where Tink met us at the bottom of the stairs. "You have your orders," Benjamin said to Tink.
Tink rose from his normal slouch to attention and all but saluted.
Benjamin drew me into his arms once again, and kissed the top of my head. "Be mindful of your surroundings and take care of one another. I will see you soon."
Tink and I walked with him to the door, and then Benjamin was gone. Tink and I stood there silently for the longest time.
Finally, Tink broke the silence. "What are your plans?"
"Well, I was going to meet Jason at his house tonight. Then, in the morning, pick up Cathy and go to the game."
"How do you plan on getting to his house?"
"I thought I'd drive the pickup."
"Excellent," Tink said. "I can ride along and then keep an eye on things."
"Okay, that works."
"Shall we? It's getting dark."
"Uh, I'd like to change first."
Tink rolled his eyes. "Women."
I raced up the stairs to my room. I wasn't sure what to wear. Tomorrow would be hectic. Tonight was the last time we'd have to be alone. I picked a sweater that I could leave a couple buttons open on the front, but thought better of it when I remembered his mother would be there. All I had were jeans and shorts, and shorts were out if I wanted to seem human—it was just too cold. Ultimately, I stayed in my jeans and put on his favorite band shirt. My hair was hopeless, but I got out the tangles the best I could. That would have to do—at least it was the real me.
"I waited for jeans and a tee shirt?" Tink groaned when I got to the bottom of the stairs. "Let's go."
I climbed in behind the wheel, while Tink jumped in the passenger's side, then we were off. It was only fifteen minutes before I turned down Jason's street. I drove past his house, to the bridge over Antietam Creek, where Tink jumped out.
"Pick me up here when you leave." Tink called before disappearing up the creek toward Jason's.
It was a short distance back to his house. I was nervous when I pulled in the driveway, more nervous than I'd ever been. I'd barely opened the truck's door, when Jason came bounding down the back stairs. He was in socks, nylon shorts and a tank top. My butterflies did a little—okay—a big flip.
"There you are," he said running up to the door. "I wasn't sure it was you."
"Expecting Lisa?" I teased, washing my hand over his attire.
He leaned to the side. "Nice..." He drew out the word.
"I thought you'd like it," I said, looking down at the stencil on my tee shirt.
"It's what, a fifty-three pickup?" He winked.
"Careful, it'll be the only thing you pick up."
He laughed that musical laugh of his. "Did you ever actually see the band?"
"No."
"Too bad, I bet you'd love them." He reached forward, offering me his hand. I was more than glad to accept. "Come on, Mom's waiting."
A quick glance back, confirmed Tink was close by. Jason and I were safe. I could relax. The warmth radiating up my arm was a good start. "How was practice?"
"Good, I think we're ready."
"I can't wait." But I could wait—I could wait an eternity.
He stopped at the bottom of the steps. "You don't sound like it."
"Jason, your mom?" I gave him a gentle nudge and he led me up the stairs.
"Mom! She's here."
I punched him in the arm.
"Oww," he groaned.
"Hi, kids." His mom was standing at the sink.
"Hi, Mrs. Whitaker. It's nice of you to have me over."
"Nonsense, it's a pleasure. Jason speaks very fondly of you."
"Thanks."
"Would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
"Jason says you're going to be able to come to the game."
"Yes, I'm going with a friend from school."
"That's wonderful, and the dance?"
"Mom..." Jason complained.
"Just trying to help." She wiped her hands with a towel and then hung it over the handle on the stove.
Jason put his arm around me.
"He's going to make his father proud tomorrow," I said, patting Jason's chest.
"I'm sure he will." Her voice had a tinge of, I knew more than I should. "Why don't you kids go in the other room? I put out some chips and soda." She took off her apron and draped it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
"Mom, I thought you were going to hang out with us. You know, get to know Izzy a little better."
"You kids don't need me hanging around—you know what they say, 'three's a crowd'. Unless you don't think your mother would approve." She amended.
"No, she trusts me."
"Then, it's settled. Maybe next time you can come for dinner."
It hurt knowing there would be no next time. Jason seemed to pick up on my sudden mood-swing.
"Good night, Mom."
"Not too late. Big day tomorrow."
"Awww, Mom, do I have to..." he complained playfully.
'Do I have to?' Rattled around in my head like an echo trying to find its origin. As it replayed over and over the voice became more childlike and female. 'Mom, do I have to?'—it was my voice.
>
'Mom, do I have to? I'd rather shop with you.'
'It's just for a little while. This is the ladies department. There's nothing here for you.'
'Oh, alright.' A small hand found it's way into mine. I looked down at the little boy, he batted his big brown eyes at me. 'Lets play hide and seek, like last time.'
'You be good.' Another woman's voice said.
I looked up at the woman who spoke. "Mrs. Whitaker?"
"Yes, dear?"
I blinked my eyes confused by the actual voice. "Oh, um, I just wanted to say good night."
Both she and Jason looked a little puzzled. "Well, you kids have fun." She gave Jason a little 'behave yourself' stare. "Nice to see you again Izzy. Night."
Jason didn't speak until her footsteps disappeared down the upstairs hallway. "What was that all about? It sounded like you just recognized her or something."
"Of course, I recognize her." I said, making light of his observation.
As Jason turned me toward the family room, his cell phone rang. "Sorry." He took his arm off my shoulder. "Yeah, Matt?... Yeah... okay... perfect, thanks, I owe you one.... Yeah, see you tomorrow." He snapped the phone closed and looked down at me. "What?"
"Matt calls you now?"
"Yeah, he's okay."
"He said the same about you."
Jason steered me over to the sofa and we sat down. He seemed nervous, but he draped his arm over the back of the sofa. "You want to watch TV?"
"Not really—unless you do."
"That's okay. You probably don't want any chips?"
"Sure, I'll have a chip."
"Really?" He didn't hide his surprise, but instead of offering me the bowl, he reached down and grabbed a chip. "Open wide."
The salty taste was strong, artificial, but when I tasted the part Jason had touched, that spark in the back of my throat—the one that was always there when I was with him—flared up immediately. "Could I have some soda?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
"Sure." His eyes were wide with surprise, but he popped the top on a soda and handed it to me.
The can's metallic taste was disgusting, as was the effervescent soda, but it did its job and washed away the burn. "Thanks." The awkwardness was like that night on the bleachers. "Jason—" I began.
"Izzy—go ahead, ladies first."
"I just want you to hold me."
His dark brown eyes sparkled as a smile lit up his face. "I think we can arrange that." He slid his arm off the back of the sofa and let it softly rest on my shoulders. I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest. His heart was pounding wildly, but he looked calm on the outside.
"Jason!" His mom yelled from her bedroom. "Put on channel thirteen."
"Got it Mom." He grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV.
"Isn't that—"
He looked down at me with a huge smile. "Yeah, it's Coach."
"Is it true the Warriors' starting quarterback is out for the remainder of the season?" The reporter asked. "That has to be a huge blow for these last two games."
"We lost Derrick to an ankle injury last week, really hurt morale, but the number two guy, Jason Whitaker, has really stepped up, and I think we'll have a few surprises for them."
"I understand you tried a little different strategy to motivate the team."
Coach Singleton chuckled. "Yes we did. Don't think I'll ever do it again, but it really turned things around for us."
"You're not going to say what that was, are you?" the reporter asked.
"Nope."
"Well, there you have it. Expect some real fireworks at tomorrow's Homecoming game. From Warrior stadium, I'm Pete Chase for channel..."
Jason and I weren't watching the television any longer. We were just staring into one another's eyes. "A little different strategy," Jason whispered. He fumbled to brush back my hair and then kissed my forehead.
"Sorry, I know it's a nuisance."
"You kidding? I love it. It's so you, wild, unpredictable, independent. It's perfect."
"So there's going to be fireworks tomorrow?"
"Not like tonight."
We cuddled and kissed, and talked about the game and each other for the next two hours; but when he yawned, I knew the time had come. He resisted of course, but he finally gave in and walked me out to the truck as if we were any normal high school couple.
"You on patrol again tonight?" he asked.
"No, it's not necessary."
"That's good, right?"
"Yeah." Was all I could manage. No need to tell him it was because we were leaving, taking the danger with us. I was suddenly filled with panic—remorse—realizing that this was the last time we would be alone together. I wrapped my arms around him, reminding myself not to crush him, and hugged him. I looked up into his beautiful face and kissed him.
After several minutes, he eased me back. "Hey, take it easy. I'm going to need my knees tomorrow." He laughed and opened the truck door for me. I reluctantly climbed in. "I'll see you at the game."
"You bet."
He lifted my chin, leaned in and kissed me one more time. "No long faces, this is the start of something really big." He stepped back and pushed the door closed.
My entire body ached as I started the engine. I tried, but couldn't even force a smile. It took all the resolve I had to put the truck in gear and drive away.