We set a date for Wednesday, and both brothers would pick us up at my house, but then they’d take us to different places. I was feeling seriously bouncy and giggly at the slightest provocation and finally, couldn’t stand to be cooped up in my apartment. I got into my Mini and drove to a 99 cent store, where everything was a dollar or less, and I could satisfy my shopping craving for a minimal amount of money.
Pleased with my bargains, I got back in my car and headed for home.
Turn left.
But home was right.
Left.
Crap. Fine. I turned left. Maybe there was an accident I was going to miss. Or something. I was about to turn back the correct direction, when the hair stood up on the back of my neck.
Keep going straight.
This time I didn’t argue. I followed, even though we were heading deeper and deeper into the not so nice part of town. The nice lawns disappeared and all the windows were barred. This was usually the section I avoided like the plague. I didn’t have a clue as to why my Spidey Sense was parading me and my Mini through it.
STOP!
I slammed on my breaks, praying no one was behind me.
“What the hell?” I peered through the windshield, expecting some semi to come crashing through the street ahead of me.
BAM! Something hit the side of my car, and rolled over the roof, thudding to the pavement on the other side.
A startled kid looked back at me, eyes wide with surprise. Then something else caught his attention. Three angry looking men were fast approaching with baseball bats.
I unlocked the door and Alf climbed in.
“Hey, Miss Mitchell. Better take off, or they’re gonna fuck up your paint job.”
I floored the gas peddle and left them in the dust, zooming right through a stop sign and completely ignoring the twenty five mile an hour sign.
As soon as we were a safe distance back into the little bubble I called my part of town, I pulled into a parking lot and stared at my passenger.
“Man, you’ve got some kind of mojo going for you,” Alf said as he looked around, still worried that the guys might have managed to tail us.
“What the hell was that all about? Who were those guys?”
“Just a few culeros who think I’m their bitch.”
“And why would they think that?”
“I don’t think they understand enough English to understand what ‘Fuck off’ means, so I told them in Spanish.”
“Right, but I’m gonna need a little more information than that.”
“What for? I tell you and you go messin’ in their business, and they’ll paint a target on you faster than you can sneeze.”
“Maybe the cops will change their mind.”
“No cops.” He said it in an ominous tone that sent shivers running down my spine. “You talk to the cops and we’re both fucked.”
“So what? I’m just supposed to sit back and hope you don’t come to school in a full body cast?”
Alf smiled slyly back at me. “They have to catch me first. And trust me. I’m faster than those pendejos.”
“You really should watch you language,” the teacher in me felt compelled to say.
“Lo siento Miss Mitchell. It’s the adrenalina. I am pumped! C’mon, I know you feel it too.”
“You did scare the heck out of me. I don’t suppose you put a dent in my car?”
“Nah. Just went over the top. This is a nice car, by the way. Could you some new rims maybe, like the ones that spin.”
“I like the rims I’ve got, thank you very much.”
I put the car into drive and pulled into the drive thru.
“Adrenaline rushes give me the munchies. You hungry?”
“Serio, Miss Mitchell. Tengo el diente largo. I could eat a horse.”
I ordered fries for us both and a cheeseburger for him. He scarfed it down so fast I would have missed it if I’d blinked. I handed him the rest of my fries and watched him happily suck his soda through his straw as if half an hour ago, three guys hadn’t been chasing him down with baseball bats trying to seriously maim him.
“So, if I’m not supposed to call the cops, what’s the plan?”
“Those guys don’t know where I live, so I’ll be okay. You can just drive me to the bus stop, and I’ll get home from there.”
“I’d rather take you home myself.”
“And take the chance they’d spot your car. No, thank you. On my own, I’m invisible, like a cat. Quiet and sneaky. You and your blond hair and your little car are like elephants, man. Big ones. They say, please, please come steal me.” He said it in a squeaky sing song voice that totally belied his gangsta shell. Alf was definitely not all he seemed.
“I don’t know…”
He’ll be fine.
“I’ll be fine.” He was serious again, and I supposed since my mojo guided me to him, it was right about letting him go.
“Here.” I pulled out a scrap of paper and did what I never did. I gave him my cell phone number. “You have any more problems, and you call me. Day or night. Just do me a favor and don’t get into any more trouble. My mojo can be temperamental at times.”
“Verdad?”
I nodded and headed towards the nearest bus station. He hopped out of the car and put his cholo back on. With a brief nod of his head, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and sat down, slouching over on the bus stop seat.
From my rearview mirror, I watched as a little old lady sat down, as far away from him as possible on the bench.
Preston is on what we call a roving or rotating block, which can seem a bit confusing to people used to a conventional school schedule. Most teachers see their students every other day, for ninety minutes. One day is Odd – Periods one, three, five and seven. The other day is Even – two, four, six, eight. All this exposition is simply to say that since Alf was in my class on Friday, I wouldn’t see him again until Tuesday, unless he decided to drop by between periods.
My ELD students were double block – they had me for two periods. Technically one was English and the other reading, but no one paid attention to which class was when.
I didn’t forget about Megan though, and I talked up her tutoring skills to all of my classes. As always, the ones who needed it the most were the least interested.
Without El Gangsta present, my ELD 1 class was back to its usually self. Students were like goldfish, easily distracted by new things, and just as easily forgetting of the important stuff.
Megan showed up as promise five minutes after the last bell rang. Unfortunately, none of my students were quite as punctual.
“It is only the first day. They might need to get permission from their parents to stay after school,” I added.
“That’s all right. I suppose I can get some of my homework done in the meantime.” She pulled out her books and checked her agenda.
I could tell that she was disappointed, but I had no idea how to wrangle up a few kids for her to tutor. She seemed responsible enough, but most kids started off strong and then petered out as the months progressed. I was going to have to hang a huge threat over my student’s heads to get at least one of the brats to attend tutoring.
“I want to be a teacher, you know,” she said suddenly, staring up at me from her history book.
“It sort of runs in the family.”
“There could be worse things to run in families.” I wondered whether my talent would be passed on to my children – Jack’s children. Because something inside me told me that if I ever had children, they would be with Jack, and no other.
That was a scary thought. But so was the idea of having children. I’ve never been a big baby person. I love kids, but only when they get to the interesting stage around four or five when you can talk to them, and they can answer back. Babies are fragile little things that I’d be afraid of forgetting in the car or dropping on their heads. The thought of having one of my own scared the living daylights out of me.
“So I hear there’s some tutoring going down in here,” Alf said from the open doorway of my class. Glad to shake the current line of thought out of place, I welcomed him in.
“Where’s all the other students in need of tutoring.”
“You’re the only one to show up. Which is kind of odd, considering I didn’t tell anyone but my ELD students that tutoring gets around.”
“Word gets around. ‘Sides, I’ve got my eyes and ears open, Maestra.” Alf grabbed one of my extra chairs and swiveled it around. He sat on it backwards, elbows leaning on Megan’s desk.
“Megan, this is Alf. Alf, Megan.” They gave each other an odd stare and then peered up at me wide eyed.
“So Alf, what do you need help with? English? Math? History?”
“I’ve got a history test tomorrow,” he said. From a pocket, he produced a stack of index cards, all printed in a tiny neat script.
This raised my eyebrow a bit. It wasn’t uncommon for the most macho of the boys to not carry a backpack. Apparently it messed with the sleek lines of their oversized shirt and saggy pants. The index card did surprise me. It meant that Alf actually wanted to make an effort to pass his history test.
I sat behind my desk and watched them review fluidly. Megan would ask. Alf would answer, and then they’d move on. The cards danced back and forth like they’d rehearsed and practiced it a million times before.
“What effect did John Locke’s principles have on the American Revolution?” Megan asked. Alf hesitated, biting his lip and rolling his eyes up to the ceiling to think.
He was playing with her. She’d already asked this question two times before and he’d answered it twice without hesitation. His sudden forgetfulness now was a total feint.
Megan frowned at him and shot a quick look in my direction. There was something else going on here that didn’t quite seem Kosher, but my spidey sense was keeping its mouth shut.
“Oh man, it’s four o’clock. I gotta go. My dad hates it when I’m late.” She stood up and started packing her books into her bag.
“No problem. I think Alf is going to ace his history test tomorrow,” I said.
“I always do,” Alf said standing with a grin. “Wednesday I bet this room will be full of people wanting your help.”
Megan rolled her eyes and elbowed him playfully in the stomach. It was an action too familiar for two people who had just studied together. Megan handed me her service form and I signed it.
“Don’t need my dad to come looking for me. Thank you Miss Mitchell.” She stuffed the paper in her backpack and hurried out the door. When she was well out of range, I turned to Alf.
“She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
“Your mojo tell you that?”
“No, that one I figured out all by myself. She doesn’t have anything to do with the three bat boys, does she?”
“Naw. She isn’t messed up in all that. Besides, her papa is a bit estricto. So we keep everything on the down low.”
“Secrets can be hard to keep, and even harder on a relationship.”
Alf didn’t answer. He just gave me a knowing smile, a nod and a silent salute.
Secrets. They’d been preying on my mind ever since I had warned Alf. I shoved another load into the washer, dropped the coins in and sat down in the rickety folding chair. I opened my book, but didn’t get past the first paragraph before my memory focused on Robert. I had figured out, through two years of dating, that Robert was not The One, but he was pretty damn close. Maybe as close as I’d ever get.
We would have moved in together, but my mom has this thing about cows. Apparently I am one, and if Robert got to move in with the cow and drink all the cow’s milk for free, he wouldn’t go the store to pay for it. My mom had taken this metaphor from some pop psychologist, and the gist I got of this was if I moved in with a guy without a ring on my finger, my mother would have a cow… or three. And I would never hear the end of it.
But again, I digress from my point. I had, for two years, kept the full revealing of my spidey sense from Robert. He thought I was just extremely lucky. After I told him, he thought I was extremely mad. Mad as in as a hatter. I’d prepared an intimate little dinner, and had finally told him outright. He kept asking me, “you’re serious? You think you’re special? You believe in voices that tell you what to do… you hear them? And you follow them?”
He kept fiddling with something in his pocket, but he never brought it out. Instead, at precisely 8:30, he excused himself from dinner, said he had had a nice time, and then declared he didn’t think we should continue seeing each other.
I never saw him again. The next day his phone number was disconnected and his roommate wouldn’t even open the door when I dropped off a box of his stuff at his apartment.
My spidey sense had only three words to describe the situation: No big loss.
If indeed Jack was The One, he shouldn’t think I was a crazy loon for calling myself a psychic. He could be like that husband on Medium – slightly skeptical, but supportive all the same. I could manage that. What I couldn’t manage was if Jack looked me straight in the face and all I was was pity and the urge to call the local insane asylum.
Or maybe I wasn’t meant to tell him. Maybe I could hide it away, keeping my own little secret because that’s the way it was meant to be. He wouldn’t care or want to know why I could get to the phone faster than anyone else. I didn’t ever have to tell him that I knew, within the first minute of our acquaintance that I would love him until my last breath.
I sighed as I took my phone out of my pocket before it rang.
“I have no idea what look to go for. Rock Goddess, Queen of Grunge, Hip Hop Babe, or Elegant Diva?”
“And all of these outfits are laid out on your bed, staring at you, aren’t they?”
“Spidey Sense?”
“No. Bestest friend sense. I’d cancel out the Hip Hop Babe as Halo Boy just doesn’t seem to be the type, and your Rock Goddess tends to go a bit over the top, so I’d go with one of the others, based on restaurant choice.”
“Thank you Obi Wan. So how are things going on your end of the galaxy? You planning outfits, because really, you can’t always rely on Jedi Robes.”
“No. Washing them. Clothes, not robes. And doin’ some thinking.”
“Oooh, thinking.” Laura paused. “Are you going to actually make me ask about what?”
I sighed. “Robert.
“That asshole? Screw him. You’ve got The One to light your fires now.”
“All these what ifs keep running through my head.”
“Chica, if The One doesn’t fall madly in love with you, then you were destined to be a little old spinster lady for the rest of your life.”
“This is supposed to make me feel better?”
“Well, at least you can stop looking for Mr. Right and start focusing on Mr. Right Now.”
“That’s a pleasant thought.”
“It would really simplify things… but you have nothing to worry about. We’re going to both have perfect first dates and get married and become sisters. That’s the plan, Baby! And you’d better stick to it.”
Click.
Laura tended to end her phone conversations rather abruptly. I tended to start them just as short.
Yes. Red.
My phone rang again. Without hesitation I answered the question Laura hadn’t asked the first time.
“Yes. Red.”
“Thanks Chica.”
Click. Sometimes I just wish I knew what question I was answering.
Tuesday marked the return of El Gangsta to ELD 1. For a hour or so I thought I’d stepped into a Godfather movie starring Alf as Don Corleone. My students checked every move with him. They would all whisper quietly amongst themselves and then send one representative to approach El Gangsta. They presented him their papers for corrections and they eagerly fed off his almost imperceptible positive nods. If the answer was wrong, they’d back away slowly then run back to their group to fix it.
So if Alf was the Godfather, was I the Godmother? I hoped not, but for once the students had someone else to occupy their frenzied attention, and I could call on them one by one to practice their oral skills.
At the end of the period, Alf disappeared with a nod and a trail of little admirers following after him. He seemed to seriously enjoy the attention.
It took me a full five minutes to figure out what was wrong with my classroom when I entered on Wednesday morning. I unlocked the door, hid my bag away in my filing cabinet and opened my blue lesson plan book for a refresher on the lessons for the day. I managed to check my email and write the agenda for the day on the board before I realized that something was nagging me. What was wrong with this picture?
I stood in front of the board and completed a mental survey. Desks in the right spot? Check. Books, disorganized, as usual? Check. Computers, including the idiotic one to which the kids had stolen the mouse ball?
"Holy Cow!"
The back wall of my classroom, where the seven year old computers used to sit were completely outfitted with new hard drives, flat screen monitors and digital mice. I had been visited by the computer fairy overnight. I jetted over next door to see if the magic had been spread around, but her computers were untouched.
I hesitated in calling the tech department, as I was afraid they'd realized they'd made some big mistake and they'd cart my computers back where they came from. And they probably wouldn't bring the old ones back. I had about as much pull with the tech department as any teacher I made requests in November and hoped they'd be filled by April.
Then another thought struck me. Maybe this was Jack's doing. Was he doing favors for me? I hadn't even asked for the new computers. Not that I hadn't griped at the last technology meeting that seven years old was like eighty in computer years.
The bell rang and I ran out of time to ponder the situation. I was planning to drop down and see Jack anyway. I could probably just hint my way around and maybe my spidey sense would pick something up.
Alf's influence was starting to seep through to the period he wasn't there. They were more inclined to complete their work before talking up a storm. They were more respectful towards me as well. Guess the big stick approach got more respect than the carrot.
After my classes I went to the bathroom and gave myself a once over in the mirror before seeing Jack. I was feeling those “I’m back in high school” jitters. Maybe my students were wearing off on me.
My newest favorite student was sitting on the bench outside Jack’s office. At least this time he wasn’t being escorted by a staff assistant.
“What did you do this time?” I asked Alf.
“I didn’t do nothing. Ms. Lamar thinks I need a stupid parent conference to discuss my potential?”
“You have potential?” I asked mockingly.
“Duh. Either that or I cheated my way through the SAT’s.” He grinned at me again. “But mi mama has to work today, so I don’t think she’s gonna show.”
Jack’s door swung open and a beefy boy tip toed meekly out. He was holding a wad of tissues in his hand and sniffing like there was no tomorrow. Jack gave him a supportive pat on the back and sent him on his way.
“Ahh, Miss Mitchell, I was wondering if you were going to stop by.” Jack looked down at Alf and frowned.
“Why does everyone assume I’m here ‘cause I did something bad?”
“He’s here to see Ms. Lamar,” I said stepping past Jack into his office. With one last I’m watching you glare at Alf, Jack closed the door and turned toward me.
“Hi.” His inscrutable face was back.
“Hi,” I replied. Jack looked up at the walls of his office. They reached about eight feet toward the tall ceiling, but then stopped three feet short. There was some bit of privacy here, but in a crowded counseling center, things could still be overheard, not that there was anything wrong with setting up a date on the company clock, so to speak, but I didn’t need the entire staff to know our business. I spoke quietly. “Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind about tonight.”
“Nope.”
“Good. Any idea where we’re going for dinner.”
“Dress warm with comfortable walking shoes.”
“That’s intriguing.”
“It’s supposed to be.” His smile went from inscrutable, to impish and back again.
“I don’t suppose you know what restaurant your brother has picked out.”
“I do, actually. He called me in a panic about five minutes ago.”
“Laura was debating whether she should go with Queen of Grunge or Elegant Diva.”
“Well, since I have convinced my brother that slacks are the order of the day, I think Elegant Diva will suite her well.”
“Cool. I’ll be sure to tell her that.”
“Right.”
We stood there in an awkward silence for a moment, as if each of us were trying to think of what was supposed to come next, but came up blank.
“I haven’t been on a date for a very long time. I just thought you should know that.”
“Your brother mentioned it.” I could almost see Jack filing away that piece of information, and planning so sock his brother for it. “I’m totally cool with taking things as they come.” Totally cool with taking everything I could get.
“I just wanted you to know, that if sometimes I seem a little, you know. It’s not your fault.”
He reached over and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. In a matter of seconds I became one big goose bump. I opened my mouth and shut it again because I knew if I said anything at that moment it would have come out, “kiss me.”
Then his head began to lower towards mine. God, did I only think it, or did I actually say it, because I could see his lips getting closer to mine and I could feel my chin rising of its own accord.
Jack jumped back, nearly clear across his office when the heavy knock rang out. The door swung open and a grumpy looking secretary thrust out a kid’s paperwork.
“Thank you.” She left without acknowledging him and left the door open on her way out.
“I’m sorry. She thinks knocking is considered permission to enter, and I don’t think… I…”
“It’s not the time or place.”
“Exactly. I’ll see you later? Eight sharp?”
“Me and my trusty sidekick.”
I gave him a little wave and then scooted out of his office. Alf raised his eyebrow and crossed his hands over his chest.
“You and the VP getting it on?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said straight faced, but he and I both knew he didn’t believe a word of it.
“What the hell is that? Did Mac Hottie cancel on you or something.”
I looked down at my sensible black slacks and white button down blouse covered with a cardinal sweater.
“No, he told me to wear comfortable walking shoes and to dress warmly.”
“I don’t think he wanted you to dress like a nun.”
Laura ignored my gut piercing stare and bounded into my bedroom. Her wardrobe choice was excellent. You couldn’t go wrong with a little black dress. Her hair was curled and lay down her back in a thick mane.
“I don’t have any skirts to match my sneakers,” I called after her. She rifled through my closet and pulled out every sweater I owned, which considering we live in Southern California, wasn’t a whole lot.
“Hey, can I borrow this one?” She said holding one up. I shrugged and nodded. She continued to look at each sweater in turn, until finally she held up a dark green one.
“This one, I think.” I took off my cardinal sweater, and held out my hand for the green one.”
“Shirt off too.”
“But the neckline is like seriously low.”
“Yes, and that’s why it’s called not dressing like a nun.”
“It’s thin too. Not very warm.”
“If you get gold then you can demand his jacket. Ladies’ prerogative. Beauty has its price and if he wants to get into your fuckin’ pants then he can be the one to freeze.”
I unbuttoned my shirt and she handed over the sweater.
“Oh, so you really think I’m going to let him into my pants on the first date?”
“Why not? He’s The One, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.”
“Point conceded. Just so he won’t think you’re a floozy, you’d better wait for the second date before letting nature take its course. And in that sweater, nature will be swift and sure.”
The doorbell rang and my heart flopped over in my chest. Laura took off in a run, the skirt of her dress flaring out around her. I heard her heels clicking on the hardwood floor and then stopped. She took a moment to settle herself and get into a sultry state of mind.
“Hello there, handsomes,” Laura called as she invited them in. The sight of the two of them was enough to water the flowers they carried with drool alone. Devon could have been a supermodel, standing there in black sacks with his light blue collared shirt opened at the neck. His jacket turned him around from rock and roller to stud muffin. I couldn’t really comment on Jack’s outfit and whether it was hot or not, as Jack in anything right about now would have turned me on. He had on a pair of off white pants with a collarless light blue sweater. And no socks for his loafers. When he spared a long glance for my décolletage, Laura tossed me a triumphant look.
Laura stuck her nose in her bouquet of flowers and thrust the other in my direction.
“I’ll go put these in water.”
I headed for the kitchen. Jack followed.
“I like your sweater.”
“Thanks. I like your sweater too.”
“Thanks. I…” He seemed to ponder what else to say, then just decided to stop talking.
I opened a cupboard and took a reach up toward the vases on the top shelf. I wasn’t quite tall enough.
“Here, let me-“
I turned around and collided with Jack who had moved to help. I lost my balance and once again, Jack managed to catch me before I hit the floor. He pulled me up, pressed against him, but didn’t let go.
“At least this time there’s no liquid involved. I could have been a klutz after I put the water in the-“
I didn’t see it coming, but suddenly he was there, dipping into my mouth, lips pressed together, arms wrapped tight, and thoughts flying out of my head. He was intoxicating, just the way The One should be. Someone I could melt into and forget where I ended and he began. When he lifted his head I had to blink three times to clear the fog from my brain.
“I’m sorry. I probably should have asked first, but-“
“Ha!”
I wasn’t going to let him be sorry. I cupped my hand around the back of his neck, stood up on my tiptoes, and kissed him again. His hand slipped under my sweater and his thumb stroked the small of my back. At this rate, we weren’t going to make a restaurant, which would please Laura to no end. It was the thought of Laura’s gloating smile that made me back off from the second kiss.
“Maybe you should get that vase now.”
“Right.” He let go of me, and we untangled our limbs. He easily reached up and brought the two vases down on the counter. I quickly chopped the ends off the flowers and he watched me put them in water as he lazily leaned on the counter. I tried to avoid looking at him, but my sneaking glances showed enough passion in his eyes to burn down a building.
I handed him and vase and took one myself. As we headed back to the living room, I turned and met his eyes straight on.
“And for future reference, you don’t need permission to kiss me. You can kiss me like that, any time you want.”
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