World of Echos (2 page)

           
“Hello!”
Brent nearly shouted.

           
“Brent,”
Lucille said. “It's been so long.”

           
They
collapsed into each other’s arms, and for a moment Lucille thought they really
might fall to the ground. But at the last moment she felt Brent's body stiffen
and lift her up into the air as he spun in a slow circle.

           
“Lucille,
Lucille, Lucille,” Brent said over and over. “How many years has it been? I
remember when we were just kids!”

           
But
they weren't just kids anymore, something Brent seemed to become suddenly aware
of as he slowly lowered Lucille so that her feet touched the ground, then
smoothed out the wrinkles in her sun dress before stepping away.

           
“You
look so amazing,” Brent said. “I don't mean to sound strange or anything, I
really don't, but I can't help but think of how much you've changed! I mean
look at you!”

           
And
then it was Lucille's turn to look at him and take it all in. He had grown as
well. Although she'd seen his picture she hadn't, of course, seen him in
person. Now she knew that the pictures didn't do him justice at all. There was
so much that a photograph simply couldn't take in. Like the texture of his skin
under his eyes, or the way the blue around his pupil seemed to flash when he'd
glance one way or the other. His lips were full and seemed to pout by default.
There were so many things that she tried to take in without staring, but it was
hard. It wasn't like she could get her glances in sideways the way he was
looking at her dead in the face. Maybe she shouldn't worry about glancing at
him though, she decided, and she drank him in the same as he was doing to her.

           
“It's
been so long Lucille,” Brent said. “Do you remember that fort we built that one
year, out in the woods?”
           
He turned and started to walk
through the grass toward the cement path that ran around one side of the lake
and cut over the middle on a long bridge that lit up at night. When she didn't
follow right away he took her hand in his, gently, like he was taking hold of
something very precious that he didn't want to bruise. Then, after they'd
exchanged a flicker of looks that held emotions ranging from fear to excitement
to lust, he started walking again and this time Lucille walked with.

           
“I
do remember that,” she said. “Do you remember when we decided that one day a
really bad spring storm hit that we were going to tough things out in the fort?
And how your father came looking for us but we were to scared of getting in
trouble to call out, so he had to hunt around the forest for hours and hours,
and then when he finally did find us we were so miserable from the cold and
wet, our eyes red and face puffy from crying.”

           
Brent
let out a long, uninhibited laugh.

           
“I
do remember that! We were such little brats sometimes. Can you think of . . .
well I guess I don't know. Do you have children?”

           
Lucille
looked at him surprised. He was right, though, how could he have any idea if
she had children or not if she didn't tell him. Hell, she could be married for
all that he knew. Not that it was romantic that they were being so touchy
feely, that's just kind of how their relationship went. When they were kids
they would kiss each other on the lips goodbye, but not in a weird way, but in
the way that best friends with the innocence of children express their
feelings.

           
But
now they weren't children anymore, she had to remind herself as they walked on
the cement path that nearly rung the lake. People jogged by beside them, some
of them even riding bikes even though it was against the rules. The people that
ran the lake were laid back. She'd never actually seen anyone get kicked out by
staff, but she had seen a couple get talked to by the police when they went
from making out to reclining one of the seats and sharing it. That was a little
bit too far for Iowa, and the couple left promptly after the officer had spoken
with them sternly. As she looked out over the lake it rippled and sparkled,
reflecting the summer sun as it beat down on them from high overhead.

           
“I
know things aren't like they were,” Brent said. “Believe me, I know that. But
that doesn't mean that we can't try to be friends, maybe take some solace in
each other. I mean, I have all of these childhood memories and literally no one
to share them with because people in America just don't understand how
something like cholera could decimate a village. People here don't get a lot of
things, and as nice as they are, sometimes I think they don't get certain
things on purpose.”

           
This
made Lucille laugh.

           
“Who,
the Americans? Be less than genuine? Never!”

           
They
both laughed. Overhead one of the eagles soared. She couldn't believe it. What
a perfect day. She pointed up at the bird.

           
“See
that guy way up there? That's an eagle. There is a family of them roosting not
far from here. I'd love to go and try to take a peak but if someone from the
Department of Natural Resources saw me climbing a tree by the roost I'm sure
I'd be arrested post haste.”

           
“They
sure do take that bird seriously, don't they?” Brent said with a smirk.

           
Lucille
looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.

           
“You
know, Brent,” she said coldly, letting her hand fall from his. “Not all of us
were just whisked away to the land of opportunity. Some of us had a really hard
time getting here and are very grateful to be included in this mostly open
society. Would you rather be back on the island? I mean, do you even look at
the news from back home? So many things that are going wrong there aren't even
issues here.”
           
“I know, I know. I'm not
trying to make jest. It's just that if you are even caught in the possession of
an eagle feather you can be prosecuted for a crime! Did you know that? I mean,
I like the bird as well, just as much as anyone! I just think that if one of
their feathers fall out that I should be able to pick it up and wear it on a
necklace or in my hair or something like that. How can they think criminalizing
their favorite
birds
feather promotes patriotism?”

           
Lucille
took a deep breath.

           
“Sorry
to snap at you,” she said. “I know that isn't going to make up for such a bad
impression. I shouldn't be bitter that you were able to get out of there. It
isn't like you didn't lose people as well, lose family I mean. I guess I'm just
processing everything all over again, you know? Like when you pulled in and I
saw you again for the first time after all these years I started to think back
to childhood, just like you did.”

           
Brent
nodded his head understandingly.

           
“Listen,
you don't need to apologize. I know that life can change a lot of things, and
that people grow and change. I know that, but I hope you so as well. I know you
do. So please, don't think that I haven't spent many hours thinking about the
best friends I left behind, and how for years I had no idea if she was alive or
not.”

           
The
eagle dove from what must have been thirty stories up. The reason that Lucille
and Brent's eyes were drawn to it was because it loosed a terrifying screech
before it dove like a bomber toward the placid blue water. There was something
so memorizing in how it dove. She couldn't even begin to fathom what it must
have been like for the bird to be able to see a fish below the surface of the
water from so far away. But it could. And now it was plunging and plunging,
faster and faster, until at the last second it seemed to defy what she
understood about how objects in flight worked and pulled out of the dive just
in time, so that its feet broke the surface of the water and were lifted out
with a fat, wriggling fish between their talons.

           
“Oh
my God!” Brent exclaimed. “No wonder they have such regard for the bird. Look
at how it flies! Such strength! That is one thing that I like very much about
this country, how they love things that are strong. I just wish sometimes they
would lean a little bit more toward what is subtle.”

           
They
had been walking the whole time and now came to the bridge that would lift
their path up away from the water and over to the other side of the lake.
Lucille loved the bridge and how much time and thought had been put into it.
There were lights that lit up in the dark along both sides, some of them
colored so that it almost looked like a mystical rainbow was lighting the
bridge from afar. There were spider webs all over the bridge, and in them were
spiders and all manner of insect. Some of the webs were so big and intricate,
while others looked more like softballs.

           
“So
how is life for you now?” Brent said.

           
“It's
good!” Lucille said. “I'm a teacher at a school not far from here. How is being
a jet pilot? I bet that's one that gets the girls attention.”

           
Brent
ducked his head and blushed.

           
“I
wouldn't know. Even though I guess I could be considered by some to be a kind
of playboy, I don't think the label is fair really. I mean, so what if I make a
lot of money and I take decent care of myself so I don't look like a leather
handbag? Who cares? The thing that gets me is that I've been single forever now
with not so much as a date insight for many moons but still people want to
convince each other that I'm just hanging out at my place having sex with
anyone that will join me. That isn't the case though, and if someone said
otherwise to you then they're just being mean spirited and salacious.”

           
Lucille
wondered if maybe she had said the wrong thing. She hadn't heard anything of
the sort, really. She'd just figured that since he was so handsome and flew
aircraft for a living that his life must then be extremely glamorous somehow.

           
“So
what's the hold up in the romance department?” Lucille asked. Then immediately
regretted it. What if it was something terrible: erectile dysfunction,
alcoholism, or
worse.

           
“Well,”
he started. Lucille braced for the worst. “I guess I just have high standards
and that makes it hard for me to relate to people that fall short of them. It
sounds like I'm being a dick or something like that, or like I walk around with
my nose in the air. But I swear that isn't the case at all. It's just that once
someone says something so completely moronic it hurts, but sincerely means it
to be intelligent, I just kind of lose interest. And then the women that I meet
that are smart have smart people problems.”

           
“What?”
Lucille said with a chuckle.

           
“Oh,
you know,” Brent continued. “They will either be beautiful and think themselves
ugly, or be simple of features but extremely vain. And it's not that they are
just simply crazy, because if that were actually the case I think that I'd be
able to handle it and move on. Like it wouldn't be that big of a deal because
people go crazy for all kinds of reason; sometimes people just walk the line on
the edge of madness because they are so smart. But it isn't just that they are
a little off, it's that they understand a lot of things people tend to
overlook.”

           
“I'm
afraid I'm still not sure I'm following,” Lucille said, but
she
kind of thought she was.

           
Brent
was a nice guy still, it seemed like. And from what he was saying it wasn't him
or them, it was just life.

           
“Well,
all right,” Brent said. “The last girl I really liked was always depressed at
how women are treated in our modern times. How they still make less, and in
countries less fortunate than the one we now stand in they are treated like
chattel.”

           
Lucille
nodded, looking at Brent's handsome face as he spoke.

           
“So
she was always down about that, or the wars in the Middle East, or how the
planet is warming up and people seem to not want to acknowledge that, or all
kinds of other things. And you know what? It wasn't because she just wanted to
fret. I don't think it was that at all. It was because she genuinely cared
about things other than herself, and that's hard to find in people. People
don't want to care about things, they don't want to think hard and long about complex
issues to
suss
out the crux of what is actually at
stake, and what is really happening. People want short cuts, they want cheat
codes, they want to be able to download their term papers off the internet, or
pay an air traffic controller to fudge their flight hours, or something of that
nature. People want to do something for as little time as possible, as easily
as possible, then they want to move on to the next thing they can do as quickly
and as easily as possible.”