Big Sky Eyes (10 page)

He couldn’t do that to her, though. Mackenna was young and
pure and he could not give in to his own desires when there was no chance of
giving her what she craved most, his heart. He broke the embrace and stepped
back from her, avoiding her gaze by inspecting the camera once again. He hid
his emotions and thanked her for the gift, adding an apology for not having one
for her.

“Oh!” she said “I almost forgot.
There’s
four rolls of film in the box, too, just to get you started. It’s black and
white, which seems like a loss in a landscape like this, but it was all he
had.”

Brent squatted and reached into the box for one of the
rolls. He removed it from its canister and popped open the back of the camera. Carefully,
he wound the thin black strips onto the teeth before cocking and releasing the
shutter a few times to get it secure. He closed the camera and released the
shutter once more before looking through the lens, reading the light and
adjusting the exposure.

Once all of the settings were exactly as he wanted them to
be, he turned the big black eye on Mackenna. As he used his thumb and
forefinger to adjust the focus on her face, she realized what he was doing and
put her hands up shyly to cover
herself
.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she cried. “No pictures of me.”

“Come on,” he urged, circling her so that she had to turn
constantly to avoid the dreaded snap.

“No, I take horrible photos.
Seriously.”

As her hands continued to shield her face, Brent snapped
away, taking photo after photo as she wailed in protest. When the clicking
finally stopped and she could no longer hear the shuffling of his feet, she
peeked through an opening she made in her fingers and saw him standing in front
of her with the camera lowered. She let her hands drop.

“You just wasted an entire roll of film on the back of my
hands, you know,” she said.

“Not an entire roll of film,” he said. “There’s one picture
left. Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?”

Her cheeks colored instantly at the compliment and she
looked down, smiling shyly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. Just
then, the shutter hissed once more and her eyes shot up to Brent’s. He smiled
smugly as he began using the lever on his camera to roll the film back up.

“There,” he said. “That’s the one I wanted.”
 

Mackenna gasped. “You dog!” she said, playfully smacking his
shoulder. “I actually believed you!”

“You should,” he returned as he laughed. “It’s true.”

They stood, silently facing each other until their smiles
faded, replaced with the impending sadness they both felt approaching. Before either
could speak, Ty’s voice boomed from somewhere outside of the stables.

“Mackenna!
We gotta go, girl!”

“Coming!”
She called through the
walls.

She turned back to Brent and drank in the sight of him once
more.

“Goodbye, Brent.”

“Bye, Mackenna.”

She turned and left him there, joining Ty and Kelly in the
same truck that had brought them. As it sped away, she watched Brent emerge
from the stables in the side view mirror. She watched him watch her go and the
departure simmered in each of them like the dawn. They knew it was not goodbye.
Somewhere deep inside each of them, they knew they were unfinished.

Chapter 15

The engine rumbled to a stop in the apartment complex
parking lot and Brent withdrew the key, shoving the kickstand out to prop his
motorcycle in place. He removed his helmet and shook his hair off of his face. Montana
was in full fall, with leaves blushing crimson and gold, the air crisp as ice
chips. He unstrapped his duffel from the back of the bike and headed inside,
tossing his keys on a small table near the door as he entered.

“I’m home, Ma!” he announced, dropping his duffel beside the
kitchen table.

“Hey, honey!” Alora called from the back of the apartment.
“Emma got the mail before she left. There’s a package of some sort for you on
the table.”

“Thanks!”

 
Brent went to the
table and found the box, smiling as he noticed the Kodak stamping all over it.
He opened it up to find four envelopes, rolls of film turned to prints. He’d
been back in town for a month and had been using Mackenna’s gift as often as
possible. Eager to see the rebirth of his skills, he thumbed through the
prints.

Images of falling leaves and bent trees in a windstorm,
horses gathering in the early morning blowing steam from their nostrils, and dogs
leaping through a mountain stream all greeted him in precise and aesthetic
perfection, exactly as he saw them in his mind’s eye the days he had taken them.
The contrast was dramatic, the exposure perfect. He smiled, pleased with
himself. As he opened the last envelope, Mackenna’s hands came into view. Next
was the back of her head, her profile, her eyebrows raised above hands pressed
into her face.

When he came to the last image he held it for a long time. His
smile softened and warmed as he looked at Mackenna’s smile, shyly directed at
the ground. Her fingers were curled around her ear, where she’d tucked her
hair, her eyes lowered demurely. The soft rose of her blush had developed as a
slight shadow on the black and white print. He hadn’t expected to miss her as
much as he had. As he touched the spot with the tip of his finger he sat at the
head of the table and opened up the laptop he kept there.
  

Hey girl
, he typed
into the new email box.

How are your classes
going? Is college all you hoped it would be? I finally used up all of that film
you got me and I’m really pleased with the results. There’s one photo that I’m
confident is my best work to-date. It’s of a beautiful, young woman with golden
hair and a smile both sweet and shy
.
I’m
looking at it right now. Can you believe it’s already been
a month since the Slanted S
?

Hope all is well,

Brent

He closed the computer and went into the kitchen to begin
cooking dinner for his mother.

When Mackenna left the university library it was just past
midnight and the October sky overheard was clear and cold. She wrapped her
scarf around her neck and began the trek across the deserted campus, then
across Virginia Street and down a small flight of stairs to her apartment door.
Once inside, she removed her gloves and rubbed her icy hands together to
generate heat as she made her way to the space heater positioned near the foot
of her bed.

As the tiny globe buzzed its way to life and began to do its
job, it cast the walls and the tiny space between in an orange glow. Mackenna
heated a mug of water in the small microwave she lived with and dropped a bag
of chamomile tea into it once the bell rang. It was still too cold in the place
to remove her scarf and coat, so as she warmed her hands around the mug she sat
at her computer desk and signed on to the Internet.

The first email in her box was from Brent and the joyful
heat that surged through her at reading his words did more for her body
temperature than the appliance behind her.
 
As she hit the reply button a little jingle
came across her computer speakers, signaling that one of her contacts had
signed online. She looked and saw his name there. It had been a month since
they last spoke and she was starved for contact with him. She double-clicked on
his name and opened up the instant messenger box.

Mackenna:
Hey there!
What are you doing up so late?

Brent:
Hey!
Just checking to see if you’d replied to my email.
How are
you?

Mackenna:
I got your
email just now.

Brent:
Really? I sent
it hours ago. I wonder why it took so long to go
through?

Mackenna:
No, I mean,
I just checked my email. I just got home actually
.

Brent:
Partying
it up already, huh?

Mackenna:
Ha! Yeah
right. No, I was putting in some much-needed study time at the library

Brent:
So, how is the
semester going for you?

Mackenna:
BUSY!! I’m
taking seven classes
.

Brent:
SEVEN?!! You’re
crazy!

Mackenna:
I know. I
had to get written permission from the dean. You should have seen me trying to
convince her. I barely pulled it off.

Brent:
Mackenna
Sorenson overloading herself with work? Why
am I
not
surprised? Why are you taking so many classes?

Mackenna:
I just want
to hurry through these pre-requisites and get on to the meat of what I want to
study. How are things with you and Alora?

Brent:
Fine here. Just
spending the days fixing fences and foraging to store for the winter feed
before the first snows come. Mom is good.

Mackenna:
Glad to hear
it. Please tell her hello for me.

Brent:
Sure thing.
Well, I guess I better let you go get some rest.

Mackenna:
I’m not
tired at all…but if you are, I can let you go.

Brent:
Nope. I’m
surprisingly awake
.

Mackenna:
So…tell me
what kind of photos you’ve taken in the last month…

They carried on this way for another two hours, sleep pulling
at their eyelids but neither wanting to give into it. It was Mackenna who
finally ended the chat, and she only did so for Brent’s benefit. She knew that
long days on the ranch were far more tiring than being stuck in the classroom. When
she finally burrowed beneath the down comforter she fell asleep with a smile on
her lips.

Their routine continued for the next several months. Each
night, they spent hours chatting on the computer. They chatted about daily
trivia, about the folks they both knew, about favorite books, movies, politics,
their beliefs and doubts about God. No subject was off-limits, save any that
concerned their feelings toward one another.

Mackenna often found herself browsing the internet for deals
on flights to Montana. She knew she couldn’t afford it. Though she had earned a
scholarship to pay her tuition, her actual living expenses were being paid by
her summer earnings and she needed to stretch those funds as far as possible to
avoid having to get a job on top of her seven courses. She sighed wistfully as
she signed off of the computer.

A few months later, fully invested in her second semester, she
sat in front of the same monitor, drifting to sleep in spite of the six cups of
coffee she’d poured down her throat. A mid-term research paper on the literary
and social influence of Hemingway was blurring before her eyes. She had an hour
before her shift started at her new job and unless she wanted to pull another
all-nighter, she needed to complete the paper before she left.

Her chin rested fitfully in her palm. Her elbow was propped
up on the desk. Her eyes sank behind her eyelids and she felt her body relaxing
into a fit of peaceful sleep. When the jingle of the instant messenger rang out
from the computer, her chin slipped out of her palm, and her head dropped like
a bowling ball, slamming her face onto the keyboard.

Brent stared at the computer screen, waiting for her to
respond to his greeting. They hadn’t been able to chat in three days.
 
In their last communication she had told him that
she’d gotten a job at a coffee shop since her funds were running low. She also
had midterm exams and papers to prepare for. He’d waited to find her online
each night, but she was never there. He expected she was either too busy or too
tired to chat. As her response popped up on the screen, he didn’t know what to
think.

Mackenna:
cjkljajvorn

He stared at the jumbled letters and wondered if her
response had been intentional, if she was drunk or if she was studying Russian.
When she didn’t add anything else, he decided to respond.

Brent:
Well…I must say
I’m at a complete loss for words
.

Mackenna winced as she rubbed the tip of her nose and her
forehead to ease the pain. She just knew that if she were to look in the mirror
she would see letters imprinted across her face. Ouch! She’d never fallen
asleep sitting straight up before. She was definitely in need of rest. As the
pain subsided she read Brent’s messages and chuckled as she typed a response.

Mackenna:
Oh man, you
are not going to believe what just happened!

Brent:
What happened?

Mackenna:
I fell
asleep sitting up and when you messaged me my face hit the keyboard!

Brent:
Are you
serious?

Mackenna:
Dead
serious. That hurt!

Brent:
Hold on a
sec…I’m laughing so hard I need a drink of water!

Mackenna:
Me, too.
Wow! I’ve never had that happen before. I don’t recommend it.

Brent:
Sounds like you
need some rest.

Mackenna:
Won’t argue
there, but unfortunately I won’t be able to get any for another six hours. I’ve
got to work in a little bit.

Brent:
So, how is the
new job panning out? You like it?

Mackenna:
It’s a job.
The people seem nice. The hot chocolate is the best I’ve ever tasted. Seriously
though, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I didn’t overdo it this semester. It’s
really taking a toll on me – working and taking seven courses.

Brent:
Any way you
could drop a class or two and pick them up next semester?

Mackenna:
Sure, but it
wouldn’t be worth it. I mean, the semester is already halfway done. It would
seem like such a waste to quit now.

Brent:
True. Maybe you
ought to slow it down next semester then. You don’t want to burn yourself out.

Mackenna:
Too late.
It’s just depressing. I thought that…well, I just thought college would be
different. All I’ve ever wanted to do is work with animals, and here I am a
year into it and I’ve not seen one animal. I haven’t even been able to get down
to my folks’ house and help them out. It just seems like being here and
laboring like this isn’t bringing me any closer to my goal. I mean, why do I
need to study Hemingway and anthropology to be a vet? I can enrich my cultural
side on my own. I WANT TO STUDY ANIMALS, DAMMIT!

Brent:
Well…Hemingway
was a jackass. Does that count?

Mackenna smiled as his words popped up on the screen. This
was why she loved him, why she loved talking to him. No matter what was going
on in her life, in her world away from his, he could reach into her heart and
warm it. He could make her smile when she didn’t feel like it. God, she missed
him.