Part 19 (2/2)
”Not there,” I replied. She was silent.
Three minutes later, I got off at the next exit. A left turn would have taken me into Cambridge. I turned right, driving across Charlestown toward Route 1.
A few moments later, she said, ”I don't recognize this.”
”It's Charlestown,” I replied.
”Um ...”
”Just frickin' relax for a change, all right?”
She stared at me and quietly said, ”Just to make things very clear. In case you're taking me off to the woods to kill me or something, I've taken self-defense cla.s.ses, and I carry mace and a very sharp knife. And I wouldn't hesitate to use either one.”
Holy s.h.i.+t. ”Did you just threaten me?” I asked. I could feel my face twisting into a grin.
”Just making sure everything is clear.”
”Good,” I said. ”You're not gonna need that s.h.i.+t. Not with me.”
I took a left turn onto Route 1. Traffic wasn't bad for a Sat.u.r.day night, and a few minutes later, in the silent car, I saw the sign for Revere Beach.
”Isn't it a little cold for swimming?” she asked.
I snorted. ”Wasn't planning on swimming.”
”Then why are we here?”
”You haven't been to Revere Beach, have you?”
”No,” she replied.
”You've seriously lived in Boston, what, three years? And you haven't been to Revere Beach?”
”I live in Cambridge.”
”Christ, whatever. Was coming to my dad's house the first time you've ever left campus? Hanging out at Revere Beach is like a rite of pa.s.sage here. Relax, you'll enjoy this. Then I'll take you home.”
She looked over at me, her expression seeming to indicate that I was nuts. Which I will freely admit, I was. I glanced at her purse, which presumably contained the sharp knife. Wonder if she was telling the truth about that?
”You're aware that it's something like 20 degrees outside?”
”Oh, yeah? Good, the ocean won't be frozen.”
She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms across her chest, and then looked out the window. But the thing is, my brother has Asperger's. I'm used to people looking away from me.
So I drove, while she ignored me, and a little while later I was threading my way down Revere Beach Boulevard. On our left were houses, occasional businesses and bars, and further down, larger buildings. On our right, the wall, about three feet high, and beyond it, the ocean. Even in the cold, there were occasional groupings of teenagers and college students hanging out, mostly sitting on the wall. No alcohol visible, but it was almost certainly there somewhere.
I parallel parked on the beach side of the road and turned off the engine. Julia still wasn't talking or looking at me.
”Come on. You'll thank me later.”
Without a word, she opened the car door and stepped out.
I caught my breath when I got out of the car. A biting, icy cold wind was blowing in off the ocean. If Julia didn't kill me first, that wind would. I zipped my jacket up all the way and turned up the collar, and jammed my hands deep in the pockets. Julia wrapped her scarf around her neck, and walked toward the wall between us and the beach. It was a popular place to sit and watch the water.
Julia was already standing at the wall. She was hunched over a little, arms wrapped around her chest, trying to stay warm.
”Okay,” she said, ”so ... why are we here?”
Because I'm impulsive? I didn't have a clear answer for that question. I looked out at the water. The waves were high, coming in with heavy whitecaps and cras.h.i.+ng up the beach. The sound of it was nearly overpowering, even in this awful wind. The sky was shadowed with roiling black clouds coming in from the northeast. Nor'easter coming in. It was exhilarating, fantastically beautiful, like something you'd see in a fantasy movie. The nearest teenagers were far enough down the beach that while facing the water, we had absolute seclusion. I finally answered her.
”You didn't mean to ... but you accidentally shared something about yourself earlier. And I wanted to tell you something about me. This is where I used to come at night ... when I was in trouble, or got in fights with my dad, or just couldn't take the pressure and craziness at home any more. My parents weren't bad-they were doing their best, but the situation couldn't be fixed, and it was making them crazy. So I'd come here. Look out at the waves. I feel grounded here.”
She s.h.i.+vered and I said, ”Let me block some of the wind.” I put an arm around her. She didn't move, didn't respond ... didn't lean into me or away from me. It was as if she were frozen. A few snowflakes had fallen, and I could see more coming down over the beach.
”Something about the water, the waves, the wind, the sheer hugeness of it all ... it makes me feel like I have a place in this world. A small place, but it's mine.”
She slowly shook her head. ”I don't like the way it feels. It's wild, out of control.”
That made me pause. I hadn't thoroughly examined my own motives in bringing her here. But it certainly hadn't been to make her uncomfortable.
I sighed. ”I'm sorry. If you want to go, let's go.”
”What do you want from me, Crank?” Her voice was raw, desperate.
I looked at her. She was so close, but might as well have been a thousand miles away. I said, ”I want you to love me.”
”I don't even know you.”
”Then I'll settle for a date. Bowling?”
She rolled her eyes. ”Did you really just say that?”
”I meant every word of it.”
”I don't understand you. Is this how you get girls in bed?”
I shook my head. ”No.”
”So what's different?” She was starting to s.h.i.+ver.
”I'm not trying to get you in bed. Well ... I am. But not just temporarily.”
She shook her head, then looked out toward the ocean, her eyes wide as she watched the waves coming in. ”I like you, Crank. But I can't be involved with you.”
”One date. That's all I'm asking. Surely you've dated since you've been in college. I know you went out with that English putz.”
<script>