The Clay Lion (13 page)

“So, see
ya
, Sis,” he
said, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“See
ya
,” I replied.

“I can’t believe you are leaving me home alone
with Mom and Dad.  Mom wants to watch ‘The Sound of Music’ and Dad is
stringing fly fishing reels… again.  It’s no fun without you around,” he
moaned, throwing himself across my bed.

“You’ll be fine.  Maybe Chad can come over.”

“He can’t.  I already asked.  He’s at
his sister’s ballet recital.”

 
“
Ooohhh
!”
I said laughing.  “Didn’t you want to go with him?”

“Funny.”

The doorbell rang downstairs.  I
froze.  I may have even stopped breathing.

Fearing that I had gone catatonic, Branson said,
“Um, hello?  That’s probably him at the door.”

I threw on my heaviest down-lined coat with the
faux fur lining around the hood and stood in front of the mirror.  I was
determined not to wear my hat as I had spent almost an hour on my hair, but I
stashed it in my coat pocket just in case.

“You better hurry, Brooke.  Need I remind
you that
Loverboy
is down there with Dad right now?”
Branson teased.

I punched Branson in the bicep and I headed out
the door.  The staircase seemed especially daunting and I held the
handrail to support myself as I walked down.  I could hear my father’s
voice, soft and calm with a hint of amusement, as I reached the landing.

He was there.  
Charlie
Johnson, standing in my foyer talking to my father.
  Both wore
smiles and I took that as a sign that Charlie met with my father’s
approval.  Both turned in my direction as I descended the stairs.

“Glad to see you’re dressed warmly Brooke,” my
father said.  “
It’s
gonna
be a bitter one out there tonight since that front moved through this
morning.  Do you have a hat?”

“Yes Dad,” I replied trying to keep the annoyance
out of my voice.  “Hi Charlie,” I added.

“Hey Brooke,” he said.

He was dressed in the same manner as he had been
the day before in blue jeans and a worn canvas coat.  His leather boots
were stylish yet practical and his hair was disheveled, as it had been every
time I had seen him.  A look of relief washed across his face as I made it
into the foyer, and I could not tell if it was because he was happy to see me
or merely because he was glad to have an excuse to end his conversation with my
father.

“So Brooke, you didn’t tell me Charlie here is
Phil Johnson’s boy,” my father said, putting a conspiratorial arm around
Charlie’s shoulders.

The name Phil Johnson floated around in my
head.  I knew the name from somewhere but was unable to place it.  I
gave them both a blank stare.

“Charlie’s dad is our state senator,
Brooke.  Didn’t you think that was an important piece of information to
share?” he laughed.

“I didn’t know,” I stated simply.

“Oh!  Well, now you do!”  He
paused.  “You two have a good time tonight and stay warm.  Brooke,
don’t be too late.  We have church in the morning,” Dad said as I headed
through the front door.  He seemed much more at ease now that he knew his
daughter was safe with the son of an elected official.

“Yes Daddy,” I said.

“Goodbye Mr. Wallace,” Charlie said graciously to
my father.

“Bye you two,” he replied.

And with that, we were out the door and my date
with Charlie Johnson had begun.  He led me to his car, the same navy
midsize he had driven the day before, and opened the passenger’s side door so
that I could slide in.  Once inside, he turned over the engine and the
sound system came to life.  A bluesy folk song full of mellow harmonies
began to play and I loved it instantly.

After a minute or so I found the ability to
speak.  “You didn’t tell me about your dad being
the
Phil Johnson,”
I teased, using my father’s most impressed voice.

“Yeah, I usually keep that one in my back
pocket,” he laughed.  “I find it really charms the ladies.  Only a
certain sort though.”

“Oh, of course,” I replied, “And what about the
sort who spends her afternoons frolicking with elementary school children in
vacant lots?”

“Not so much,” Charlie smiled.

“Hmmm,” I paused.  “So what’s it like being
the senator’s son?”

“I guess probably about how you would think it
would be,” he answered.  “My dad’s gone a lot, so most of the time it’s
just me and Melody and my mom.  Campaign time is the worst.  I had to
pose for this stupid commercial with him during the last election.  But he
works hard and I think he’s done a lot to protect our district, so it’s
fine.”  He paused to look at me.  “You won’t find me going into
politics though.”

“Why not?”

“My dad spends his whole life answering to other
people. 
Constituents, lobbyists, the press.
 
He never really gets to decide what he wants to do from day to day.  I
want to be in charge of my own life.  Make my own decisions, you know?”

“Yeah.
 
I do.  So what do you want to do?  Where are you going to college?” I
asked. 

“I haven’t decided.  I was accepted to State
and Tech.  And Harvard,” he added, not looking away from the road to gauge
my reaction.  Then he said, “I’d love to be an engineer.  Make
stuff.  Figure out how things work.  I guess time will tell. 
What about you?”

It had been so long since I thought at all about
my own future that I was at a loss for words.  For over a year my only
purpose in life had been saving Branson.  Now that I had, I supposed it
was time to start thinking about what I was going to do with the rest of
my
life.       

“I’m going to State. 
Hopefully
the pre-med program.
  I want to be a vet,” I said simply as if it
was as easy as that.  Suddenly, I laughed aloud.  As the words came
out it dawned on me that it actually would be easy in comparison to traveling
through time in order to save my brother’s life.  College would be a piece
of cake. 

“What’s funny?” Charlie asked taking his eyes off
the road to gaze quizzically at me.

“Nothing, really.
  I guess I just haven’t given my future
much thought recently.  Graduation will be here in no time and I really
haven’t done any sort of planning,” I laughed.

There was a pause and Charlie changed the song
playing on the stereo to something upbeat and alternative.  He began
singing along. 

“So, Harvard huh?”
I said finally, interrupting the chorus.

“Yeah.
 
My dad made me apply.  I don’t have any intention of going there.  I
think it makes him happy to be able to tell people that I was accepted. 
I’ll probably just go to State.  It’s a great school.  Close
by.  Good engineering program.  And the best part,” he said, reaching
across the console to place his hand on mine, “is that I already know a pretty
girl going there.”

I immediately stopped breathing.  All the
nerves in my body stood at attention, as if being electrified by some unnamed
current streaming from Charlie’s hand into my own.  During the months
since Branson’s death, I had accepted that pain and emptiness would be the
primary emotions of my existence.  To feel something so powerfully
positive was almost too much to process.  It was all I could do not to
pull away.

“So tell me about you.  Melody said you were
a camp counselor at Seneca Grove.  How long have you been doing that?”
Charlie asked nonchalantly, as if holding my hand was the most natural thing he
could be doing.  I was so enchanted by his fingers encircling mine that I
almost missed the question.  I played his words over again in my
head.  He had mentioned something about Seneca Grove.

Then it hit me.  The lie I had told to the
children so they would not think I was some psychopath waiting around to play
with a group of elementary school children.  I had never stepped foot on
the grounds of Seneca Grove, much less worked there.  I hated to continue
lying to Charlie, but I certainly could not explain the reason for my
dishonesty.  I dug what I hoped would be only a slightly deeper hole for
myself.

“Oh, yeah, I just did a week long training
session with a friend of mine as a guest a couple of years ago.  I never
actually worked there.  But I learned a lot of fun activities during the
training,” I added, hoping my little white lie would be enough to pacify his
interest.

“Well, you seem to really like kids and they seem
to really like you!” he said.  “Maybe you should be a teacher instead of a
vet?  Or maybe you should be a vet, if you are as good with animals as you
are with kids.”

“I like children,” I said.  After a moment I
continued, “Growing up, it was just Branson, my brother, and me.  We had a
wonderful childhood together.  We would spend hours and hours inventing
games and pretending to be citizens of our own make believe worlds.  I
guess that part of me has just never gone away.  Unlike so many people I
know, I’ve never been in a real hurry to grow up.  I liked being a
kid.  It was easy, you know?”

“Yeah.
 
I do know.  No responsibilities.  No expectations.  No father
breathing down your neck about holding up the family name.”  He was
smiling, but I could tell I had touched upon a sore subject.

“Things were simple, weren’t they?” I commented,
ruminating about my life before Branson’s illness.

“Well, you can kiss your cares goodbye now Missy,
because we are here,” Charlie said brightly as he turned the car on to the
gravel side road leading up to the lake.

I could not believe we had already arrived. 
Our easy conversation shortened an otherwise lengthy journey.  Charlie
pulled his hand from mine to maneuver the car into the wooded area and left
coldness where the warmth had been.  I could faintly make out the glow of
a fire through the considerable wall of evergreens.  I felt Charlie
looking at me as he pulled the key from the ignition, and I tilted my head in
his direction to return his gaze.

“So, my friends,” he began, “are mostly really
nice people. You’ll like Marshall.  He’s hilarious.  And you’ll like
Courtney and Taylor too.  They’re on the swim team with me.  I don’t
know if Carson is going to be here, but he’s kind of a jerk, so just ignore him
if he is.”

As I was making a mental tally sheet of friends
and foes, the look on my face must have given away my heightened level of
anxiety.  Charlie placed a compassionate hand on my knee.

“It’s
gonna
be
fine.  They’re
gonna
love you.  It’s
totally brave of you to come here with me not knowing anyone, but you’ll have
tons of new friends by the time we leave, I promise,” he said.

I smiled.  Charlie thought I was
brave.  Like the cowardly lion.  Brave despite all outward
appearances. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” I asked, my
nerves immediately subsiding.  “Let’s go!”

Charlie smiled radiantly at me and I opened the
door, letting a wave of frigid night air invade the car.  I was instantly
thankful that I had worn my warmest coat and boots.  After locking the car
behind us, Charlie met me at the entrance of the forest path.  As he
finished buttoning his coat, he reached again for my hand.  He wore
unusual mittens - the kind that pull back to reveal bare fingers underneath
should you have need of your digits.  As if I needed another reason, the
fact that he would wear those silly gloves made me like him even more. 
There was something childlike and unassuming about Charlie Johnson that was
irresistibly enchanting to me.

We walked silently through the woods along a pine
needle path fraught with animal holes and uprooted trees.  Our breath was
visible and the diffused starlight was our only guide.  I lost my footing
several times on rocks and roots and was thankful for Charlie’s masterful
reflexes, which prevented me from falling face first onto the ground. 

As we strolled along, hand in hand, I could not
help but wonder who had walked the path with Charlie during the previous
timelines.  I pushed the thought out of my mind, not only because I was
uncomfortable thinking about Charlie in pursuit of another girl, but also
because I was painfully aware that I was altering yet another person’s life
with my journey.  The ramifications of that were not lost on me.  And
still, I traveled on.

The light of the bonfire shone brightly and its
reflection in the lake lit the final stretch of the path.  I heard voices as
we approached the clearing and, as we ventured closer, the warmth of the fire
drew us both into the circle of log benches surrounding the blaze. 
Charlie was still holding firmly to my hand, and I wondered if he had told
anyone about me.  It was a question that would soon be answered.

A tall, blond boy with a tight crew cut came
running from the other side of the circle and I easily recognized him from the
photo of Charlie in the cafeteria on his school’s website.  He stopped
next to Charlie and punched him jovially in the shoulder.