Bells Above Greens (13 page)

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Authors: David Xavier

BOOK: Bells Above Greens
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“So you’re a dancer too?” He bowed with one hand in his pocket.

“Not much of one.”

“Did you finish that book I gave you?”

“I didn’t.”

“Gah.  Why not?”

“I haven’t had time.”

“What did you read instead?”

“I said I didn’t have time.”

“What did you read instead?” he repeated it almost identically in tone.


The Bostonians
.”

“Ah-ha.  I’ve read a few of Henry James.  And how was it?  Wait, let me guess.  You didn’t finish?”

I nodded.  “I’ve been trying to keep up with my studies.”

“Nerts to that lie.”  Myles began to snap his fingers and bob up and down on his knees to the muffled music, taking a moment to burn the final ash from his cigarette.  He motioned to the dance floor inside.  “The Midwest’s finest.”

“The brilliant minds of America,” I said.  “Dancing the moon into dawn.”

He looked at me.  “You should write that down.  Moon into dawn.  I like that.  It’s true, though.  We are a privileged bunch here.  Notre Dame academics can take anyone through life on merit alone.”

“I guess so.”

He tossed his cigarette butt.  “To hell with all that, Sam.  I didn’t mean it.  I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Why shouldn’t it?”

“Because it’s no use if a person doesn’t know how to use it.”  He straightened up.  “I was given a full ride scholarship here, did you know that?”

“No.  Is that true?”

He nodded.  “Intellectually I could be one of the top five minds here tonight.  But you know what?  I don’t have a blue moon clue what I’m going to do with my life.  I’m on academic probation.  They’ll take my scholarship away and give it to a less brilliant mind, but a mind who knows what they want to do.”

“So we have to figure it out,” I said.  “I only know what I’ll do tomorrow.”

“Balls.  You do not.  You and I don’t know what we’ll do tonight, much less tomorrow.  Notre Dame holds the world’s finest intellectual potential.  They own us now, they bought us, and they want to see that potential blossom so they can take credit for it.  And if it doesn’t, they toss us.  But potential is all it is unless you’ve got life figure out on your own.”

He looked around, spinning all the way with his eyes still searching.  “The campus is bubbling with potential.  Brilliant minds who could rule the world one day.  And I’d venture to say the majority of them will be stuck at ‘potential’ forever.”

A rustle of dead leaves and broken branches occurred behind me in the stand of trees, and Jude Miller came stumbling out, his shirt flapping over his belt and loose zipper, and him struggling to put it all in order. 

“I’m Jude Miller.”  He held out a searching hand to me, pinning his coat behind his waist with the other.  He was wobbled from a hidden flask and his eyes did not match up and seemed to look far beyond me.  The white cotton of his pockets were pulled out and hanging pouchlike at his sides.  He took notice and tried to grope them properly back into his pants, but he fumbled with depth perception, his aim hopeless, and finally he was content to leave them hanging.

Myles gave me a sardonic grin and presented Jude Miller with a gesture.  “The world’s finest, as I said.”

Jude Miller steadied himself.  “Than’ God we’re close to th’ forest.  Couldn’t hold it any longer.”

The three of us went inside and found our way to the refreshments.  Myles paused to take a photo of the crowd and the band, bending to capture the light.  The band was in a bebop rhythm.  Good dancing music.

“What do you carry that camera around for?” I asked him.

“Just a hobby.  It’s a fantastic idea, photographs are.  I like the thought of holding small moments hostage forever.  Proving that something existed.”

He scanned the crowd with a rubbery neck, snapping his fingers to the music.  “Who are you here with anyway?”

I looked at the dance floor and lifted my finger to point, but Myles pushed it down.  “No, hold on.  This is a skill of mine.  Let me guess.”

His head bobbed and weaved on his neck, and he pointed to a bookish dark-haired girl.  “There she is.  Right?”

“No.”

“Hold on, now.  There, that one with the ponytail.  Oh God, is it her?”

“No.”  I laughed and sipped my punch. 

Just then a bright face with charming lips and a blonde bun skipped out of the crowd toward us.  Myles watched with growing disbelief as Liv came closer, his eyes widening with each of her steps. 

“Who’s your friend?” she asked me. 

With a big smile I put my hand on her back and introduced Myles.  Jude was standing asleep against the wall.

“You have to be
joking
,” Myles said.  He was still pointing. 

Liv shook his finger and gave a friendly laugh.  “Very nice to meet you.”  She reached out and closed Myles’s mouth with a gentle hand. 

“You
know
her?” Myles asked.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He stammered a little.  “She’s – she’s so – well
look
at her, Sam.  She’s in the top rankings as far as looks go.”

“Why, thank you.”  Liv gave a polite curtsey.  “But, Sam is very handsome.  Don’t you think?”

“Of course he is.  But not
this
handsome.”  His eyes crawled over her from head to toe and back again.

“You mean you’ve never had eyes for him?”

Myles blinked several times and laughed.  “Am I that obvious?  A gentleman never tells, dear.”

“But what do
you
do?”

He laughed again.  “I tell everybody.”  He mimed a three-step tap and displayed his hands palm up.  “No, truly, I have only platonic feelings for Sam.  A good friend of mine.”

I took another fruit punch while they talked.  Liv flirted with Myles without risk the way only a girl can do when she feels completely unthreatened.  I quickly discovered Myles earlier claims of conquest to be believable.  He had a way of breaking down uncomfortable barriers by leaning in a manner that invited the other to come closer, as if seeking his approval, and he would reach out at various times to touch a hand or shoulder very intimately while keeping his interest strictly sociable on the surface.

The music stopped for a short break, and the murmur of conversation filled the gap.  The musicians took their drinks on stage.  Myles was pointing and Liv was looking with him down the length of his arm, their heads nearly touching.  He was an expert.

“No, that one,” he said.  “The trumpet player.”

“Yes, he never stops.  Incredible energy,” Liv said.  “He’s a student here?”

“He’s in my economics class.  A very bright young man.  Has all the answers.”

“Where did he learn to play like that?”

“He’s in the school marching band.  Plays nights at a jazz club in town.”

“Did you hear that, Sam?” Liv turned to me.  “At a
jazz
club.  We should go one night.”

Behind us, Jude Miller lurched out of his standing sleep with a snort and stumbled a few paces.

“Oh God,” Myles said, his back twisted to look around.  “This boy.  Let me take him outside for some air.”

“No, I aim to dance t’night,” Jude said.  “I came here to dance and th’ ladies of the room wan’ me to dance.”

“No, no, no…” Myles was giggling.  He peeked at us over Jude’s draped arm.  “I don’t want him to ruin the dance floor.”

He took him under the arm and led him outside. Jude was half bowing with an overly gestured arm, telling everyone he passed how good they were to him.  A few people gave him a friendly ovation as he exited, and as he turned to bow, Myles caught him from falling on his face.

“What a charming friend you have,” Liv said.

“I don’t know the drunk one too well,” I said.  “Jude Miller.  He introduces himself every time I see him.”

“I mean Myles.  How very charming he is.”

“He is an original.”

“I think it’s swell that he can be who he is and not worry.  I could see that right away in him.  People are always hiding who they are, but he can just be himself.”

“I guess so.”

I knew there was a piece of Myles that he kept hidden.  He had shown it to me before.  The thoughtful boy on the rock with no direction, the cynical straight-A student on probation.  His skin was a book to read, but his heart and mind were behind a key.

“I mean it,” she said.  “It’s hard to be the way he is and not feel ashamed about it.  I admire him.”

“You brought it out of him.  You practically accused him.”

“Did I?  I suppose I did.  I told you I could see it right away.  He wasn’t hurt by it.  He laughed it off.  Well, I think it’s grand of him.  Don’t you like it?”

“Sure.”

We went to the chairs and tables at the far end of the room.  I pulled a chair out for Liv and rifled through the coats to find hers.  I wrapped it behind her and sat down.  The band was picking up their instruments again, blowing out the tubes.  The drummer brought the cymbals to increase in sound, climbing the ladder of anticipation, and the dancers filled the floor again.

“What do you think of that?” Liv asked me.  “Of Myles, I mean.”

“Of what?  He’s a nice kid.”

“I mean the way he is.  I’m sure he can’t tell many people.  I feel so guilty now that I pointed it out.  It was only in play, though.  I could tell he wouldn’t be angry.”

“I like Myles. Even if he is taken by dramatics.”

“Is he?”

“He thinks we’re all floating around here without a map, not spending a moment of time on our own dreams.” 

“I’m talking about the
way
he is.  You know, one of…”

“I haven’t thought about it.  He’s just Myles to me.”

She pulled a small mirror from her coat pocket.  I watched with an unconscious interest as she lined her lips again.  She moved only her eyes to me and smiled while she pressed her lips together.

“Why do boys always stare at girls putting on makeup like that?”

I sat back and mimicked the drummer.  The band began to play, but this time it had no effect on Liv.  She leaned in to be heard. 

“You don’t think it’s bad of him, do you?”

I continued my drumming. 

“People get so caught up in what is good and bad, and it’s not fair to people like Myles,” she said.  “People’s vision of God can be so brutal sometimes.  They make Him seem like an old man with a switch in His hands.  It’s so much easier to be free with yourself.  To be
true
to yourself.  You can still love God and love yourself.”

I pointed to the stage.  “Do you want to dance?”

“Did you hear a word I said?  Life is much more enjoyable when you can forget about rules and just have fun.”

“One more dance?”

She exhaled and let a smile come to her.  “A hundred more.”

We danced until I could only carry half the beat in my legs, and the room began to clear out.  I sat again and mopped my forehead.  Someone had popped a soda bottle over the dance floor and my hair was beyond damp, my skin sticky.  Liv came over from the stage and sat on my lap.  She placed a hat sideways on my head. 

“Now you can play in the band.”

I tilted my head back so I could see.  “Do I look the part?”

“It’s all in the hat.”  She held my face in her hands and gave me a long, gentle kiss.  I had no breath left and she let her laughter break our lips apart. She threw her hands to the ceiling.

“No rules!”

“Where did you get this hat?”

“From the band.  The trumpet player tossed it to me.”

“I’m going to fall asleep right here.  Wake me up tomorrow.”

“I’m going to walk back with the girls.  Is that okay?”

“I couldn’t move if I wanted to.”

I helped her into her coat, I was going to miss that black dress, and the band played one last blaring tune to the empty floor, strewn with paper napkins and plastic cups, long streamers and crumpled banners. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight,” Liv said.

“Maybe you should’ve danced more,” I said with a smile.

“I
should
have danced more.  I wish I had four legs.”

“Goodnight, Liv.”

She kissed me once more, the type of kiss that should send you home lightheaded and full of hope through the morning hours.  A kiss that should leave you sleepless in thought, touching your lips with your fingertips in the hope that the memory will never fade. 

And in the darkness, I fell asleep.

 

Chapter Fourteen

I stopped by often outside the girl’s dormitory.  When I saw Liv, I saw only Liv, and when I saw Elle, I saw only Elle.  I never saw them both together and I was relieved for that, which was something I could not rationally explain to myself why. 

There were days when I stood on the steps with my head ducked in my jacket, waiting for one or the other of the two girls, and the opposite would appear.  I found this to be a pleasant surprise in either case.

Liv made me feel the way a young man should feel when an attractive young woman returns his interest.  She made me strong in myself in a way that gave my voice a deeper resonance and my chest a healthy push outward.  I was immensely fascinated with her, and I found the curve of her eyelashes and the way she flipped her hair when she pulled on a coat equally appealing to the way she didn’t know the rules of football and sometimes cheered when the other team scored a touchdown.

Elle was something differently entirely.  Her humble trust in God and her unexpected recitations of
Prufrock
pulled me in with the same curious force as the way she could eat a full Blarney’s sandwich in the time it took me to eat half.  She was attractive, very beautiful to look at, but she was, in a way, still Peter’s girl, and if I ever forgot that in a momentary lapse of thought, it was brought back into light when Peter walked into our conversations.  If I did find myself looking at the shape of her face or if I looked too long in her eyes at one time I would force myself to look away.

She gave me a rosary one day, pulled it from her pocket as if she carried it there at all times, and placed it in my palm with both her hands wrapped around my fist.  This made me feel that she must hold herself in that position of a mother figure to me as well. 

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