The Devil and Danna Webster (6 page)

"I made reservations, and I got these tickets for a show in the Village."

New York City? We never went there. The thought thrilled. I couldn't help feeling curious.

It took us a little under an hour to reach the city. Kevin still drove above the speed limit and it was a miracle that we weren't stopped.

We parked in a lot on a crooked street and then began to walk around Greenwich Village. Kevin was my guide. For me, it was like being in a foreign country. I was a stranger in a strange land where only Kevin knew the language.

The play was something Kevin called theatre of the absurd. It didn't make a lot of sense, but Kevin said it wasn't supposed to. I wondered if other people understood it any better than I did or just pretended to so no one would think they were stupid.

As we ate veal marsala at an Italian restaurant, Kevin attempted to explain the play to me. I decided that he really was very intelligent. We held hands in the candlelight then topped off our meal with spumoni and espresso. There were linen tablecloths and flowers on every table. It was elegant and romantic.

I touched the red roses, enjoying the velvet feel of the petals.

“You like flowers?” Kevin asked.

“I do.”

Kevin held my hand. “That doesn't surprise me.”

On the street as we walked back to the car, a girl was selling flowers and Kevin bought me a bouquet. I felt touched by the gesture.

The turnpike was moving and we made good time going home. When we stopped for a light in town, Kevin turned to me. "You haven't said much all evening. I hope you're not having a rotten time."

I shook my head. "Just the opposite. It was all so wonderful and exciting that I could hardly find any words." I smelled the flowers that he'd bought me. Kevin pressed my hand and seemed pleased.

When we reached my house, the light on the porch was burning like a beacon.

"I'll walk you up," he said, "unless you want to talk a little first."

"I'd like to, but it's past midnight. I better go in."

He nodded and we got out of the car. At the top of the steps, he took me into his arms.

"Do you see why I like the city now? A whole different world, isn't it? Maybe we could see Chinatown together next time. I'd like to look at it through your eyes. We'll dine on authentic Chinese food."

When I didn't answer, he took my hand and pressed it. Then he pulled me tightly against him and kissed me. I found myself kissing him back. His lips were still sweet from the ice cream dessert, but there was something exotic, and
other,
about the taste of him. I could hardly breathe. His lips lingered on mine. His tongue skimmed my lower lip. When he let go of me, I began to tremble.

"Hey, you're cold. I better let you go inside. I'll phone you soon, okay?"

I just nodded, unable to speak. I would never forget my first date or that kiss.

The lights were off in the living room but the television was playing softly. I heard a rustling in the darkness. Was my stepfather waiting up to yell at me for getting in after midnight? Well, at least I hadn't turned into a pumpkin!

"You're awfully late," a sleepy voice said.

"Mom? How come you're still up?"

"I've been dozing on and off. We were a little worried about you. I made your Dad go to bed at eleven. He wasn't feeling very well. It's that cough of his. Got to get him back to the doctor again."

I groped around for the light switch. "I'm sorry we were late. Kevin had these tickets for a play in New York and we also had dinner there."

"Sounds like he took you out in style."

"It was great," I assured her. "We had a wonderful time. I wish you wouldn't tell Dad that we were late though. I don't want to upset him or make him angry."

"I know I'm too soft with you, but all right. Just get in by midnight next time you go out with him."

The next time! Would there be one? I hoped so. I really did enjoy being with Kevin.

"Want to hear about my date?"

My mother yawned. "Tomorrow morning. Let's get to bed. Now that I know you're home safe and sound, I'll be able to get a good night's sleep."

****

The next morning, I woke up with sunlight pouring into my room. I found my stepfather in the kitchen reading the Sunday paper but my mother wasn't there.

"She's gone to church," my father replied to my question.

"Without me?"

He looked at me. "She wanted to let you sleep."

My stepfather continued to read the newspaper as I ate a light breakfast. Afterwards, I went back to my room and did some homework. At eleven, my mother returned home in a good mood.

"Beautiful day today. Last days of summer."

"Think I'll go over to the beach and do some sketching."

"Perfect day for it," my mother agreed.

I gathered up a large sketchpad and some drawing pencils and took off for the cliff which was my favorite private place to work. I felt one with nature here. It was so peaceful, almost a religious experience. This was my church.

"How do you manage that?" The voice surprised me. I almost dropped my sketchpad.

I looked back. And there stood Gar Hansen, golden hair catching the glint of the sun, eyes bluer than the sky.

"How do I manage what?" I asked, distracted by his male beauty.

"The way you make those sketches comes alive like that. When I look at the paper, it's as if the tide is actually coming in."

"Thank you. I don't think it's that good though."

He looked so tall and powerful standing over me, the clouds and sky behind him. I had the sudden urge to sketch him.

"I don't claim to know much about art, but it seems to me, you're very good. Those waves look alive."

I felt my face growing hot and knew I was blushing. I hated it when that happened but there seemed no controlling it.

"I've got a lot to learn."

He sat down on the ground beside me. "Know what your trouble is? You don't know how to accept a compliment. Stop putting yourself down. There are enough people out there who'll be only too happy to do it for you. Treat yourself like a friend." His eyes warmed.

"Is that how you are, a friend to yourself?"

"My best friend," he said. "I even give myself a pat on the back now and then when I get an "A" on a test or throw a touchdown pass."

I just sat there staring at this hot guy. He reminded me of Michelangelo's statue of David, manly, yet at the same time, angelic and innocent. Then I realized how silly I must have looked sitting there gawking at him. I tried to get up quickly but slipped on a large rock. He caught me in his arms. We were so close that I could hardly catch my breath.

"You should be careful up here," he said, still holding me in his arms. "You could really get hurt."

"I know." My heart was beating so fast I was certain he must be able to hear it.

His eyes with their gold-tipped lashes lowered. He seemed to be looking at my lips. I could have sworn he wanted to kiss me. But then he seemed to change his mind and suddenly released me as if I was a hot pot that had burned him.

"In the mood for a geometry lesson?"

"Sure," I said. "Geometry's the love of my life."

"Glad to hear it." He grinned, picked up my sketchpad and my drawing pencils, took my arm, and we walked down the hillside together.

I had to wonder about myself. I liked Kevin a lot, and yet, here I was with Gar Hansen, and I liked him very much too. Was it possible to like two boys a whole lot, at the same time? It was awfully confusing.

"I didn't think you'd come back," I murmured.

"Guess I didn't think so either, but then I figured, hey, you need my help."

"You don't have to tutor me. I don't want your charity," I said, suddenly feeling angry.

"It isn't charity. Anyway what difference does it make? Do you want my help or not?" We were in front of my house now, facing each other. His mouth tightened and he slanted a hard look in my direction.

I swallowed my pride. "Sorry, I didn't mean to seem ungrateful. You're right. I do need help. Come inside. I'll put these things away and get my geometry book."

My stepfather, who was sitting in the living room, still reading the newspaper, greeted Gar like a long-lost friend. I could hear the two of them carrying on a friendly conversation as I got my book from my bedroom. When I returned, Gar was asking Dad about his medals, something my stepfather never talked about.

"I was really impressed last time to see all of these."

"Don't know why my wife insists on leaving them out. Anyway, that one's the Purple Heart. You don't get it for being brave, just unlucky."

"But this one's the Bronze Star. What did you do to earn that?"

My stepfather looked embarrassed. "Nothing I really want to talk about," he replied.

"You and Danna are alike, modest about your accomplishments."

My stepfather didn't respond but he looked pleased. Gar had a way with adults. His manner was polite and respectful. I hadn't expected that from him. I guess I thought he'd be all ego and self-involved, but he wasn't like that at all. And if anyone could be called a natural teacher, it was Gar Hansen. He was patient with me even when I didn't understand things and he had to do a lot of explaining. I told him that after we finished our tutoring session.

"I come by it honestly," he told me. "I've had two younger brothers to take charge of. My dad tries, but he does have to work long hours. So I've had to pitch in and do my share. I help my brothers. I teach them stuff, help them with their schoolwork. Anyway, you sort of get used to explaining things."

"It must be nice to have brothers."

"Sometimes," he said, with a broad grin. "Anyway, it's taught me patience. When is your next geometry test?"

"Soon, on Friday, but don't worry. My friend Joyce will help me during the week."

"You'll let me know how it goes?" He acted like he really cared.

“Sure, if you like.”

"Good, then maybe I can come out again next Sunday. Are you going to come and watch us play on Saturday? It's a home game."

I promised that I would, although I didn't know why, since I didn't have any understanding of football. I walked him to the door. Just as we reached it, there was a loud knock. Startled, I flung open the door.

"How's it going?" Kevin stood on the threshold, his dark eyes catching the light. He acknowledged Gar's presence with a stiff nod of the head.

"Come in," I said.

"What are you doing over here, Hansen?" Kevin confronted Gar in what could only be described as an aggressive manner.

I put myself between them. "Gar is my geometry tutor. I didn't know you knew each other."

"We don't really," Kevin replied. "But you are dating my sister, aren't you, Hansen?" Something dark and evil flashed in his eyes.

"I was just leaving," Gar said without answering Kevin's question. He turned back to me. "See you," he said. He looked from Kevin to me, his face an expressionless mask.

Kevin shut the door none too gently. "Is that guy making moves on you?" he demanded.

"He's my geometry tutor, nothing more, nothing less." I was becoming angry too. “And you have no right asking me that question or being rude. We've only been out on one date.”

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and the anger seemed to leave with it. "I'm sorry. You're right. I had no right asking. I just don't like the guy. He thinks he's hot stuff, you know? God's gift to the world. I don't trust people like that."

"Don't you think that you're God's gift to the world?" I teased.

"Only to women and you in particular." He took me in his arms and hugged me tight. "And you're God's gift to me."

"What a nice thing to say!"

"Stick with me, kid, and you'll hear lots of nice things."

I pulled him over to the couch and sat him down beside me.

“Is your father around?” Kevin asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“Wondering if he plans to interrogate me.”

“Why would you think that?”

Kevin shrugged. "He sort of stared at me like I had two heads. Or maybe he thought I was an alien or a zombie. Speaking of which, what about a movie? There's a really good horror flick playing at one of the theatres in the mall. Want to go?"

"No thanks, I'm not into horror stuff."

"You're not an easy sell. Horror flicks are the best. I could hold you in my arms every time you got scared."

I laughed. "So you admit to having ulterior motives. Forget it. I'd have nightmares. How about we take a walk on the beach instead? Anyway, I really have a lot of schoolwork to do this afternoon."

He let out a deep sigh. "All right, but I think you take life too seriously."

"I agree with you. It's one of my many faults."

Kevin looked around the room. "Who did all these great pictures?"

I shrugged. "It's my stuff. Sort of my own private art gallery."

"Well, your parents obviously like your work. That portrait of your mother is great! That isn't oil, is it?"

"I did that one in pastels. I work with chalk a lot because it's so easy to blend colors."

"The flesh tone is so realistic. Amazing."

“Let's go for a walk," I said, feeling very uncomfortable. For me it was as difficult to accept praise as criticism.

“Anything you want to do is fine with me as long as we're together.”

The day had turned gray and cool. The wind chilled me in my summery T-shirt and jeans. Kevin saw that I was cold and took off the brown leather bomber jacket he was wearing, placing it around my shoulders.

"What a beautiful jacket," I commented. “It looks like a World War II pilot's jacket.”

"I'll tell Caron you said so. She bought it for me for my birthday. She's into retro fashion. Thinks it's chic."

I fingered the soft leather that felt like butter. "It must have cost a fortune."

"My sister has expensive tastes. But she got a discount because she modeled for the store."

"I didn't know she modeled." I was impressed but not surprised. Caron was tall, slim and beautiful, just what one would expect in a model.

"She's been modeling for some time. Although it's been hard for her to do much since she's lived out here. But Caron intends to make modeling her career."

"Do your parents approve?"

"Sheila modeled herself when she was young. She's the one who took Caron around, got her started. Mother knows all the right people. As for Father, well, at the moment, he hardly knows that Caron exists — or the rest of us for that matter." I heard bitterness creep into his voice.

"I'm sure he cares."

“You're making an unfounded assumption, and you know what they say about people who do that?"

I poked him gently in the ribs.

"Just for that, I want my jacket back!"

"No way!" I started running down the beach with Kevin chasing after me.

“Run as fast as you can. You can't get away from me.”

I laughed and continued charging down the beach. But I was soon breathless and he caught up with me, pounced on me and grabbed back his jacket. I lost my balance and fell down on the sand.

"Are you all right?" He sounded concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine,” I responded, tugging at the jacket, forcing him to lose his balance and fall down beside me. Now we were both laughing and breathless.

"All right, you win! Let's compromise. We can share the jacket." He pulled it around both of us so that we were drawn together. Then he leaned over and kissed me with such feeling that all the laughter died. Finally, I pulled away from him. He put the jacket around me again and pulled me to my feet. "Why don't you come with me?" he said.

I was taken completely by surprise and immediately refused. "No, I mean it. I'd like you to meet Sheila. I have the feeling she'd like you very much too."

"Maybe some other time."

"Sure, next week? How about Saturday? You can have lunch with us. That would be great."

"Isn't it a little soon for me to be meeting your family?"

He rubbed my nose with his, Eskimo fashion. "That all depends on your point of view.”

We walked back to his car, holding hands. Then he gave me a quick peck.

“See you," he said. He was off, gone from view before I knew it in a blur of motion.