Page 5 of Unlovable


  Seth and I sat on a small tattered couch while Mr. McSheehy went through several pages of his album with us. He had received the Purple Heart during World War II, of which he was very proud. He shared some photos he had taken on the day the Americans liberated the Concentration camp, Gusen.

  “This was taken in May, 1945. That’s me,” he said, pointing to a handsome young soldier. “My troop went into the Gusen camp in Austria. The day we arrived thousands of bodies had to be buried in a mass grave and about 300 people a day died thereafter. Not only were they starving to death, there was also a horrible typhus epidemic throughout the camps.”

  He slid a photo across the table toward me of several dead bodies piled on a cart. The people looked like skeletons with skin on them. It broke my heart. “There was no food in the kitchen. We were able to find some potatoes in storage and made a thin soup to feed them. We were also able to make up some unleavened bread out of oats.

  “The enemy was barbaric! Tens of thousands of Jews died in Gusen, and we as people have become complacent.” He shook a finger in the air dramatically, stretching up tall in his rickety wheelchair. “We seem to have forgotten that some things are worth dying for, number one being our fellow man. Fighting to free God’s children from wickedness like this,” he held up the picture of the dead bodies in the wheelbarrow, “that price will never be too high for this soldier to pay.”

  His story touched my soul, and for the first time ever I felt a connection to the past. I swore never to forget what Frank McSheehy and his fellow soldiers did that day in Austria.

  After a few more stories, Seth stood up. “Mr. McSheehy, we need to get over to Miss Ethel's.” Seth took my elbow, guiding me toward the door. “How about next Saturday we deliver your lunch last, and you can share more of your experiences with us?”

  “Oh, no. You, a handsome young man, here with a beautiful young woman,” he nodded his head toward me. “You don’t need to listen to an old man ramble on about days long gone.”

  “I’d love to hear more.” Something in my eyes must have told him of my sincerity because he cheerfully agreed to let us return next week for another mini history lesson. After a hastily offered goodbye, we headed over to Miss Ethel’s.

  “It’s sad that so many of our senior citizens are ignored or shoved into rest homes unnecessarily. Many still have a lot to offer,” I said as we drove down a crooked narrow street.

  “I feel exactly the same way,” Seth said. The guilt I felt for judging him was now choking me. I had been slowly turning into my mother and didn’t even realize it until that very moment. I had an ache in my gut, which for once wasn’t from hunger.

  Our next stop was at a shabby green house on Ridgemont. A woman with a deeply lined face and short, choppy gray hair, Miss Ethel, Seth informed me, was standing at her window waiting. However, unlike Mr. McSheehy, she looked angry.

  “Her bark is worse than her bite, most days.” I looked at him warily, and he chuckled. “Don’t worry I’ll protect you.”

  “Yer late! Talkin’ to old jabber jaws McSheehy again, I ’spose.” Her hands were planted firmly on her wide hips. She glared hard at Seth as we entered her humble home. He smiled and her pursed lips gave way to a grin, though she tried to stop it. She dropped her hands into the front pockets of her faded orange housedress and forced her mouth back into a grim line.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Ethel, tell you what, next Saturday we deliver your lunch first.”

  “That’d be good,” she said, looking over at me. “My, who’s this pretty little thing with the big blue eyes?”

  “This is Maggie.” Seth put his arm around my waist as he answered, it startled me. It also felt kind of nice. “Maggie, Miss Ethel.”

  Before I uttered a word, Miss Ethel’s eyes narrowed on me. “You sure are a skinny little gal. Bet ya I cou’d snap one of them scrawny collarbones of yours in half without even tryin’. Are you one of them anorexians?”

  “No, I’m not anorexic, just petite.” So much for feeding the anorexic rumors. I walked back over toward the door and stood there waiting to leave.

  “Ya know, boys don’t like huggin’ and kissin’ skinny gals, Missy. My husband, Jack, God rest his soul,” she touched her forehead, chest, and each shoulder with her heavily creased right hand before continuing. “He always said men don’t like kissin’ and huggin’ sticks. He said gals with a little meat on their bones is more comfortable to have your arms ’round, and a lot more fun.” She laughed mischievously. “They isn’t as ornery cuz they ain’t hungry all the time, like them scrawny gals.”

  Horrified, my face flushed a deep scarlet. To Seth’s credit, so did his. Undaunted, she continued.

  “You like kissing her all bony like that, Seth?”

  “I haven’t kissed her yet, Miss Ethel.” His red face now carried a grin from ear to ear.

  Will the earth please open up and swallow me whole? Did he say yet?

  “Why not, boy?” She looked genuinely surprised. “Is you one of them gay fellers?” She didn’t ask the question with any repugnance, merely curiosity.

  “No, I’m not, Miss Ethel.” The stupid grin never left his face. “I’m very much a heterosexual.” Evidently, she didn’t know what the word meant because her brows knit in confusion. “I like girls,” he said reassuringly.

  “So what ya waitin’ fer?” She didn’t let him answer. “She’s too skinny for you, ain’t she? I’m telling ya, boy, a few home-cooked meals will fill her out in all the right places, if ya know what I mean,” she said with a crooked grin.

  “I agree wholeheartedly. Thank you for the advice.”

  I desperately wanted to leave.

  “Get going, and don’t forget next Saturday yer comin’ here before McSheehy’s.” He nodded, giving her a peck on the cheek. “You bringin’ Bones with ya?” I was beginning to wonder if the verbal abuse was ever going to stop.

  “She can come if she wants. Maybe I should leave her at the Burger Palace instead, see if I can fatten her up a bit before I kiss her.”

  “Bye.” I opened the door and ran for the car, I’d have run home if I knew where we were. Instead, I plopped down into the seat, slammed the seatbelt into position, and crossed my arms over my chest. Seth slipped casually into his seat.

  “I warned you, she’s a spitfire."

  “What about the protection you promised before we went in?”

  “She wasn’t so bad. She’s worried about how skinny you are. You do look as if someone could snap you in half without much effort.” He softly took my arm as I reached for the door. I looked back to demand he let me out of the car, and somehow my face ended up only a few inches from his. The closeness stunned me into silence. That and the overwhelming desire I had to kiss him. I was crazy, no doubt about it. Why in the world would I want to kiss a guy who drove me insane?

  “Maggie, I’m sorry.” His eyes burrowed into me, rendering me speechless. I nodded, shoved my hands between my legs and pinned them there to keep from reaching out and pulling his mouth down to mine. “I’ll take you home.”

  I sat silently, forcing my breathing to slow. We arrived at the park a few minutes later. “Alright, where to from here?”

  “Let me out here, thanks. I need the exercise.”

  “Maggie, please tell me where you live? It’s cold, let me take you home.”

  “I told you, I’m thinking about trying out for the track team in the spring, I have to be in shape.” For a moment I wondered why I cared what he thought of me. Nevertheless, at the stoplight, I took my book bag and darted out.

  “Here.” He handed me the last lunch from the back seat. “You may as well have this,” he said, frowning. I hesitated, but hunger won out. I took it, thanking him, and walked to the middle of the park and began doing stretches I’d seen the kids who were actually on the track team do as he drove away. I waited five minutes before walking home.

  “Where you been?” My mother’s speech was slurred in an all-too-familiar cadence. She rolled over an
d looked up at me through her bloodshot eyes, blinking to clear her vision. She rolled back over, passing out completely. I grabbed a blanket from my bedroom and covered her up. Contrary to popular belief, alcohol depletes body heat. I put the lunch in the fridge, retrieved my AP Calculus book from my bag, and began the long, tedious journey down the road of confusion. I hate math.

  The rest of the day and half of the evening were spent struggling through my assignment. More than once I had to untangle a knot I’d made in my hair with my fingers. I really needed to stop twisting my hair. After a particularly grueling problem, I slammed the book shut and slid it across the table in surrender, near tears. “I’ll bet Seth understands this garbage.”

  “Who you talking to?” To my surprise, my mother was sitting upright on the couch. Wondering if she had eaten yet today, I took the lunch out of the refrigerator and placed it on a plate before handing it to her.

  “What’s this?”

  “Food.” Still annoyed over my Calculus homework, the answer came out harsh, not a good thing. “What have you eaten today?” I softened my tone, fearing she’d become angry. Then she’d drink instead of eat, not a good thing.

  “None of your bisness.” Her speech was still slurred. “Who’s the mother here? Me!”

  “Mom, please eat.” She shoved the food back at me, spilling half on the floor. Ugh! “You drink too much.” Frustrated, I gathered up the mess, reluctantly tossing it in the garbage, and headed for my room. I’d learned from sad experience that it was pointless to argue with a drunk.

  “Get o’er here, young lady.” As she started to stand up, her eyes appeared to move in opposite directions, and she fell back down onto the couch. “What I do with my life is none a’ your bisness.”

  “You don’t do anything with your life except drink, that’s my point. You wake up, and you immediately get drunk. The moment you start to sober up, you start drinking again. It’s not much of a life, Mother.” I was ignoring my “don’t argue with a drunk” counsel, but first Seth, then math, now this! How much could a girl take in one day?

  “You ungrateful li’l brat. I paid for this house, and I pay for the food. You’re nothin’ but a leach, you unlovable nothing, get out of my house.” I thought to mention that she didn’t pay for the food the government did, only to what point. I grabbed my sweater and house key and left, chastising myself for fighting with her.

  It was cloudy out, it had to be 45 degrees out, not too bad for 10:45 P.M. in the middle of winter. I slipped on my sweater and walked down to the park knowing it would be well lit there. The city didn’t bother with streetlights in my rundown neighborhood.

  After an hour of roaming around the park, I'd calmed down and managed to shove away the bitter words my mom had spewed at me. She was sick and her words shouldn’t upset me, she didn’t mean them. At least that’s what I told myself.

  Applegate Park had become my favorite refuge over the years. In the summer, the shade from the tall leafy trees kept me cool, and in the winter, they blocked some of the wind as it howled through their naked branches. Sadly, over the past two years it had become known as the place to buy drugs, making it a somewhat scary place to be at night.

  It was also a Mecca for couples who came here to make out, even in the dead of winter. Walking through the trees, I had to step around more than one couple tangled up in each other’s arms. I wondered if Seth had Hillary in a lip lock somewhere. Clearly, no one could accuse her of being an unlovable nothing. Dropping onto a bench, my mind wandered back to Seth’s soft, full lips smiling at me this afternoon, his piercing green eyes…

  Eyes!

  I shot straight up. A man dressed all in black was staring at me through the trees. His hair was slicked back from his face, and there was a small silver disk in his right ear lobe. He looked to be about my mother’s age, though the expression on his face was anything but paternal. He was on his cell phone, except whoever he was talking to didn’t have his full attention. I did. His eyes swept my body, while his tongue lapped repeatedly over his lips, as if he were imagining what I would taste like.

  I was the only one in the park who was alone, completely alone. No one would notice if I disappeared, it’d take days before my mother would be sober enough to figure out that I hadn’t come home. My heart beat so furiously, I feared it would explode out of sheer terror.

  I thought to start screaming, except the strangely dressed man was only looking at me, so that was probably overreacting, however, I should leave. I jumped up and walked quickly toward the nearest park exit in the opposite direction. He followed. I was about to take off running when someone seized my arm from behind. My voice froze in my throat, making it impossible to scream. To my surprise, the creepy guy hadn’t grabbed me, Seth Prescott had!

  “Sorry I’m late, love, thanks for waiting.” He pulled me into his arms and whispered softly, “There’s a man dressed all in black following you. Pretend we’re here together.”

  “What?” I tried nudging him away, except I was shaking too hard.

  He pulled me closer, dropping his mouth back to my ear. “If you’ll notice he’s not watching the couples here, just you. He thinks you’re alone and therefore an easy target. Maybe if he believes we’re here together, he’ll leave.”

  How did he know what the greasy haired creep was thinking? What if he was wrong? Did he have a plan B? I was all for running away. He dropped his lips to my neck and started nuzzling against it softly. I stood perfectly still.

  “That’s a pitiable effort, Maggie. Put your arms around me and at least pretend this is enjoyable,” he hissed in my ear. I slowly slid my arms around his waist between his shirt and jacket and was surprised at how sinewy his body was. My hands felt the bulge of muscles in his back as they made their way up to his shoulders. I could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt and all the while, his lips caressed my neck and jaw. My eyes slowly shut, to help with the illusion.

  “Can you see him? What’s he doing?” His voice sounded rich and low in my ear. I forced my eyes open, bringing me back to reality.

  “He’s dropped back into the trees, but he’s still staring at us.” Seth asked me another question, however the sound muffled against my skin, and I couldn’t understand him. I turned my face toward his to ask him to repeat it, and realized our mouths were almost touching. We had to kiss. There was no way out of it, anything else would’ve looked awkward. I pressed my mouth onto his.

  His lips were soft and warm on mine, though somewhat hesitant. And I felt incredibly stupid. He obviously did not intend on really kissing me. Why in the world would this gorgeous guy want to kiss me anyway? I started to pull away when his hands began winding their way through my hair. He held my face gently to his as his mouth moved carefully against mine. It felt wonderful. My head began swimming as I drew myself tighter against him, again, to help keep the illusion going.

  After several moments, he pulled away. I didn’t open my eyes, instead drawing my bottom lip into my mouth to get one last taste of him. Suddenly realizing how long my eyes had been shut, I popped them open to see him smiling down at me. I was mortified!

  “Did he leave?” His thumb stroked my cheek.

  Refocusing my thoughts on the man in black, I glanced around. “No, he’s still watching us, but he’s moved over by the northwest exit gate now.”

  “Then I guess we had better keep up the act.” Before I could answer, his mouth dropped back onto mine, and this time there was an undeniable eagerness to his kiss. I struggled to stay calm, if only he hadn’t tasted so incredibly good and felt so incredibly warm. Zack’s kisses never made me feel like this. He slowly spun us around until he faced the northwest gate. His lips never left mine while his eyes searched the park. Finally, he pulled away.

  “I think he’s gone. Come, I’ll take you home, just in case,” he said, sliding his hand in mine. “Which way is your house?”

  “No, I’m fine.” I pulled my hand free, taking several deep breaths trying to regain my compo
sure. “He went the opposite way of my house. Anyway, I only live a few minutes from here. Bye.”

  “Maggie, we can do this two ways. Either you let me take you home, or I’ll follow you without your consent. Simply put, you’re not going alone.”

  “I live east of the park, he went toward the northwest. I’ll be fine.”

  “What if he decides to double back? You did hear about the girl who was stabbed and left for dead in front of those buildings a few days ago, correct?” He pointed to a row of abandoned buildings that were adjacent to the park.

  Grrr! He was right. Her story was the topic of conversation at school lately. Moreover, it was almost midnight, definitely not safe to be out alone. “Fine.” I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets and stomped off speedily toward my house.

  My 5’6” stature proved no challenge for Mr. 6’2”. He easily matched my stride. “Where’s the fire?” he asked. I slowed a bit, not wanting to look as foolish as I felt. When we reached my corner, I spun around to face him.

  “Why were you in the park? Did you have a date?” Like, perhaps with Hillary?

  “No, just out with a friend.” A nice, safe generic reply. He must be trying to keep his options open.

  “Here’s my street, thanks for walking me home. See you at school tomorrow.” I said it fast and without taking a breath, it would have been a miracle if he’d understood. I started walking again, and he continued to follow. “Really,” I called over my shoulder. “Thanks again for your help at the park, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “Anytime, well, not anytime. Hopefully, you’re smart enough not to take midnight strolls through the park anymore.” I twisted around and glared at him. He flashed an impish grin before taking my arm. “Maggie, please allow me to see you home—all the way home.”