"What are your plans this weekend, Josh? Are you working?" Josh's mom was standing by the sink.
"I'm working tomorrow, but tonight I thought I'd just hang out." He moved toward the door.
"With Fred? He could have supper with us tomorrow, if you want. I've got a new chicken dish that
will make you and your grandpa drool. Invite Fred." She dried her hands on a towel and moved toward her son.
"Not Fred, Mom. Just some girl." Gotta go. Gotta go, Mom. Let me out!
"Just some girl! Josh, that's wonderful. Why don't you bring her to meet us? What's her name? I'd love
to meet your girlfriend. Why haven't you brought her here before?" She was circling, getting ready for a hug.
"It's a first date, Ma. We're just going to hang out. You can meet her later. Next time we go out. If we
do. Just be cool." Spontaneity. That's what he wanted, and his mother was in the way. Just do it. Just go. Just let me go!
"Me? I'm always cool. It's you that needs to loosen up a bit." She reached out and grabbed a bit of his
cheek and gave him a friendly tug. "Tell me more about this girl."
"Look, I gotta go. Love ya." Josh gave his mother a quick kiss and went out through the front door. It was
a longer walk around the house to his car but there was a mirror in the front hall. He checked his hair, sniffed
his armpits and decided he might be okay. Maybe.
Josh had waxed his Chevy last week at work. It didn't look bad, for an eight year old junk heap. He
slid behind the wheel, grabbed a burger wrapper and a couple of french fries and threw them into the back seat.
"Whoops. Wild sex. I better get the back seat clean too." He found the wrapper and fries, and a
summer jacket and last spring's gym gear and threw them all onto the lawn. "Be prepared, my little boy scout." Maybe
if things worked out, he'd be able to stop talking to himself. It'd be nice to have someone like Cindy to hang out
with. There were a lot of things he couldn't tell Fred. Couldn't tell his mother. Couldn't tell anyone.
WERZ was playing softly on his radio. A gentle love song. And when Josh turned the corner, he saw a
full moon hanging just above the trees. Real romantic. But how come if it's so romantic, and if Cindy's hot, and
I'm ready for love, I've taken three wrong turns? Get ahold of yourself. Just drive the car and turn the corners. It's easy.
It may have been easy, but Josh drove by Cindy's front door three times before he stopped. And then he
sat and stared at the house. Just till the song ends. And then the next song. And then he opened the door, stepped out
of the car, closed the door and turned toward the house. Step by step. Closer and closer.
"Damn." Josh stopped and cursed again. "I don't have anything with me. Nothing to give her. Here, Cindy,
I brought you some flowers. Or some candy. Or another poem. Or something." Josh felt as if time had stopped,
and he was caught in between, unable to move, to decide. A pause for reflection that had him trapped ten feet from
the door.
And then, just like in the movies, the front door swung open, spilling light across the lawn. Cindy
was framed in the light. Wisps of hair formed a halo of light around her head. Her whole body glowed. If Josh had
been trapped before, now he was paralyzed. His mouth fell open, but no words came out.
"Josh? Josh, is that you?" Cindy stepped out onto the porch and put her hand up to block the light.
A shadow fell across her face.
"Cindy. Cindy, you are an angel. I love you. I want you. I need you." His mind was choking, looking
for more and more ways to express what he felt, but he realized that no sound was coming out of his mouth. He
stood, slack jawed, staring.
"Josh!"
"Huh?"
"Oh, it is you. I thought I saw your car. Come in, quickly. My parents aren't home, they won't be here
until late. Come in. Josh, will you move?"
"Uh? Oh, right. Hi, Cindy. I'm here. I brought you a, um, a rose! Wrapped in a piece of pink tissue
paper. With a white bow. Here. Oh, wait a minute." Josh began searching his pockets. He looked on the ground
behind him. And then he stood grinning, empty handed. "I must have lost it. Sorry."
"Come inside." Cindy stepped toward him and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the porch. And
then they were inside, standing three feet apart. Josh found himself frozen again, but now he could make out
details. Cindy's braid wrapped around her neck, over a white tee shirt. Her skin was a light brown. Her eyes were
a darker brown. Her left eyebrow was broken, a small scar splitting it in two. There was a poem in that,
somewhere. The broken brow. . . . A scar that left her beauty. . . .
Cindy moved toward him, more quickly than he could parry. She caught him completely by surprise
and pulled him close. He could feel her body pressed against him, her lips hard against his. He squirmed.
"Damn." She was three feet away again, staring at him. Her eyes were tearing up. "Why are you
here? Why don't you leave. Leave and find some of your hotshot friends. I don't need you. There are other fish in
the sea."
"That's a metaphor." Josh wanted to slap himself aside the head. Why couldn't he talk to girls. To this girl.
"Metaphor. Monosyllabic. Moronic. You like these M-words, don't you? Well, va-Moose. There's an
M-word for you. Adios, amigo."
"Cindy." She was crying. Suddenly, she convulsed and crumbled to the floor. Her face was buried in
her hands.
Josh tried again. "Cindy. Can we talk? Do you know why I'm here? Do you know what I'm thinking?
Can we talk?" He moved a step toward her.
"Stay back. Don't get near me. I asked you to leave."
Josh turned and went out the door. And then he sat down on the porch steps and stared into the night.
A car broke the silence, racing with its lights through the night, disappearing in a streak of red. And then the
world got quiet. The moon rose above the trees, burning a white hole into the silence. But Josh couldn't even hear
the moon screaming. Somehow, his world was more empty than it had ever been before. And there was nothing in
his mind to rescue him, nothing to lead him back.
And then Cindy came out and sat down beside him. He could feel her, two feet away. Was she staring
at him? He didn't think so. Just sitting. Sitting next to him, watching the cold moon and the empty road.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." He turned now to look at her. She was staring at something miles away. One hand held her
braid, the other hung by her side. "Yeah. I'm sorry. No. I wasn't going to say that. I'm not sorry. Well, yes. I am
sorry, but I wasn't going to tell you that. You're a bastard. I wish you weren't here."
"Shall I leave?"
"No. No, I want you here. Oh, I don't know what I want."
Josh looked at her face and smiled. He reached out and wiped away a tear that was hanging on the end
of her nose. She jumped when she felt his touch.
"What do you want? Don't touch me. I thought I told you to leave?"
"You did. And you told me to stay. You kissed me. And you called me a bastard. You invited me in.
And then you threw me out. Can we just sit and talk?" He felt as if he were talking to a trapped animal, a fawn,
helpless and. . . .
"You're the weird one." She'd caught him daydreaming again.
"Tell me." Josh moved a little, halving the distance between them.
"Will you listen?"
"I like listening to you. I like watching you."
"Do you? You've got a funny way of showing it." But her voice was more confident.
"I'm here."
"I suppose. Well, let me tell you some things about me. About the fascinating life of Cindy
Carlson, student extraordinaire."
