The Pike: Ships In The Night (14 page)

I interrupted, “Just say it's fun, Imme.”

She blushed and nodded and said, “It's fun.”

We shared a smile and then she looked away and admitted, “Though it did take me four attempts to acquire the license.  The examiners were adverse to the precision I wished to hold myself to in parallel parking as I continued moving the van back and forth to get the precise angle.  I tried explaining to them that two parallel vectors will stretch on into infinitum without ever intersecting.”

She gave me a goofy smile. “Daddy told me on the fourth attempt to just call it parking instead of parallel parking.”  I just had to chuckle at her sly look.  I'm pretty sure she was making a joke, and I loved that she was attempting it.

When we pulled onto the car deck of the ferry, I hid a satisfied smirk as the thrumming of the powerful engine of the Chevy echoed in the cavernous vehicle bay before she shut it down.  She looked suddenly shy.  I nudged my head toward the stairs. “Observation deck?”

She nodded. “Yes please.”

We got out of the car, and I cocked my head as she paused a moment to run her eyes over the vehicle, an expression I couldn't identify on her face.  Was it wonder?  Then she let her hand drift along the length of the hood as she stepped around to my side.

It felt... right when her hand moved to seek out my own, and we laced our fingers before we started for the stairs.  I glanced at her ratty shoes as we held back to allow the other passengers to go up before us.

I asked as we started our slow ascent, “I've been curious about your shoes since I first saw you months ago on the ferry.  What is the story behind them?”

She moved some hair behind her ear and asked almost in a whisper, “You noticed me before we met?”

I gave her an appreciative and mischievous smile as I said, “I sort of have a weakness for cute.  I had seen you from time to time.  I thought you had looked so familiar when we were finally introduced.  It took a moment to realize from where.  You always had your nose stuck in a book.”

She stood up straighter and raised her chin in defiance, hiding her own smile and I added, “Not that it is a bad thing.”

We moved to our usual spot by the railing, and she shivered in the breeze, so, feeling bold, I pulled her in front of me and wrapped my arms around her.  She seemed to snuggle in just a bit to my relief.  Then she said, “They were a gift from my dad on my first day of college when I was twelve.  I sat up all night drawing beakers and my favorite atoms on them.  I was too nervous to sleep.”

Then she leaned back into me, and I tightened my grip slightly. “Daddy said that he knew I was destined to do something great with my life.  I tried explaining that destiny is a construct of whimsy because nothing is predetermined except for entropy, though order can come from chaos.”

She looked back and craned her head up to see me and smiled in memory. “He chuckled and kissed the top of my head, and I made a promise when I put the shoes on that I would wear them until I did.”

She shrugged. “My parents have taught me to always honor your word.  So after getting my first degree a year later, I started on my post graduate work then pursued my doctorates so that I could keep my word and do something great that would make them proud of me.”

She didn't realize that they were already bursting with pride for her?  Was she that insecure, or could she just not process it correctly?

Then she turned her gaze to the water as we passed Bainbridge Island.  “And once the peer review of Maggie is complete, I can finally take them off and get a new pair of shoes.  I'm thinking that changing the face of computing is a sufficient accomplishment to meet the criteria of the promise.”

I shook my head and asked, “You think?”

She responded quickly, “Frequently.”

I couldn't tell if she was stating a fact, or if she had just made a sarcastic comeback.  Either way, I was amused.  I kissed the top of her head again, and she snuggled back into me as we just watched the skyline of Seattle growing as we approached.

My stomach fluttered as heat spread not just from the contact with Allison, but from inside me as well.  I have determined that what I believed was the onset of illness is actually my reaction to her presence, and I have grown accustomed to it.  I am eager for her company.

I'm still not certain about the parameters for a date.  The research material and documentaries I watched all supplied contradictory data.  Perhaps because they were all binary pairings.  And I don't know how often young people can save the youth of a town by engaging in dance.

I am still not clear on all of the social protocols.  It would have been prudent to postpone the date until I could more adequately understand, but when I look at Allie, I cannot bring myself to ask.  I wind up just smiling and enjoying my reactions to seeing her.  I believe the modern vernacular for my reaction is 'dayum.'

I sighed and leaned back into her arms and was content to just contemplate the day so far.  I still am amazed at the fact that after all these years, we finished the restoration of grandpa's car.  I can't explain the thrill that went through me when I drove it for the first time.  It has such raw power, and it provided an excitement that I had not anticipated.

The fact that it was something I have put more time and effort into than Maggie, and it was a project that allowed interaction with my dad, just gave me a sense of satisfaction that I cannot properly express.  And for some reason, sharing the experience of the first drive with Allie seems just... right, in some unquantifiable way.

I looked back up at her.  Those improbable eyes just seemed to capture me, and I engaged in small talk just to hear her voice.  It always caused something unfamiliar inside of me to stir.

After docking, we made our way down to the car.  I found myself grinning at her antics on the stairs.  She always insists on sliding down the banisters.  I am embarrassed to admit that it looks enjoyable and find myself resigned to the fact that my small stature precluded me from doing the same.

She kept me engaged as she had me navigate the streets of Seattle.  She asked so many questions about myself, and I was happy to answer.  I have determined that something happened in her early life because I still couldn't get her to discuss her childhood past the age of fifteen.

Then after crossing over Aurora, we navigated to a house in Fremont.  There were people all over the front lawn and cars parked all along the block.  She said, “This is the place.”  I nodded and parked half way down the block in the first available space.

I was feeling silly so I backed up and pulled forward multiple times to get the proper angle.  My grin hurt my face it was so big when she chuckled and slapped my shoulder lightly, saying, “Smartass.”

She added, “For an egghead, you're pretty damn funny.”

I felt my cheeks and neck heating up.  I stuck my tongue out at her and she broke into laughter.  I was pleased to have elicited that response from her.  I liked it when she smiled.  I couldn't identify her normal look when she thought I wasn't looking, but it felt sad to me for reasons I cannot explain.  It made my chest ache, so I try to get her to smile as often as possible.

We got out of the car, and she just stood on the sidewalk, looking at the people being loud and boisterous down the block and then her cane.  She turned and started to open the car door again.  I asked, “What are you doing?”

She paused and looked at me.  “They don't need to see me with this thing.  I can walk.”

That was confusing.  I asked, “Doesn't it assist in your locomotion?  Why would you go without such a useful tool?”

She studied me and then gave me a warm smile. “You really don't know, do you?”

I furrowed my brow and inquired, “Know what?”

She looked at the cane intently then back at me and shut the car door.  “You know what, you're right.  Fuck it.”

I opened my mouth, and she cut me off, “No coitus was implied by the statement, Imme.”  Ahh... she was stating defiance.  I was proud that I understood.

She held her hand out expectantly, fingers spread.  I felt that familiar warmth and hurried over and took her hand.  This was rapidly becoming one of my favorite things to do.  I never held the hands of any of my other friends, if anything I avoided it, but with Allison...  I smiled as she took my hand.  All of the videos showed this as part of the courting rituals, and I could see the appeal now.

I glanced up at her, fixating on her lips as she stared at the people at our destination intently.  I was wondering about other aspects of the courting ritual that had my cheeks heating again as we started walking.

I wondered what a kiss would feel like.

She knocked me out of my musings by telling me, “I have a little business to do here then I am all yours.”

I looked up at her and asked, “Business?”

She exhaled audibly and said, “Yeah, old man Porter offered me a position as a fire inspector and is expecting my decision.”

I smiled, though she didn't talk about it, I knew that she missed being a firefighter.  I know I am not efficient at picking up subtle emotional cues, but it was obvious to me that it is why she never discussed her time as a firefighter with me.  I asked, “And what is your decision?”

She looked down at me and cocked her head. “I have absolutely no clue.  I'll know when I speak with him.  He was my commander at Station Five.”

I blinked.  That's the first she has shared that part of her life with me.  I said, “Do you have all the proper data to make an informed decision?”

She chuckled and laid her head on top of mine a moment as we walked.  “This is something all the data in the world can't help with.  This is a decision I have to make with my gut.  I'll know when the time comes.”

That made absolutely no sense.  She must have seen my confusion and she asked, “When you chose your major in college, why did you choose mathematics and physics instead of other intellectual pursuits like say, literature or philosophy?”

I thought about it and said, “There were many to choose from, but when it came down to it, I like numbers.”

She nodded. “So it wasn't based on the data you had on all the subjects?  It came down to what you felt was right at the time?”  I nodded, and she said, “Congratulations, you used your gut feelings to decide short stuff.”

I grinned at the endearment and crossed a leg behind me as we walked and kicked her posterior.  I smiled as she chuckled at me.  Was she right?  Had I not chosen the most logical path?  Something to ponder.

As soon as we arrived at the house that was bustling with activity.  I noted a few men in blue teeshirts that had the Seattle Fire Department shield printed on the upper left chest.  They all seemed to freeze when they saw us.  She tightened her grip on my hand.  The men had odd looks on their faces that I didn't understand.  Then they smiled and started offering greetings. “Sparky.”  “Hey, Sparks.”  “Good to see you Sparky.”

She was nodding at them as she dragged me along.  Something was wrong, her body was stiff, and she was hitting the ground with her cane more forcefully than normal.  Had I missed some sort of social cue that she had seen?

A skinny man with frizzled red hair came out of the front door of the dwelling and approached rapidly, just short of a jog.  He wore one of those blue tees the others had on.  He was smiling brilliantly, and I felt oddly out of sorts the way Allie smiled back.  I had read about this knotted feeling, was I jealous that someone else could make her smile like that?

Her smile turned into a smirk as he reached us and said, “Sparky!  So glad you came!”  She leaned her cane against her hip and the two clasped hands in a twisted forearm grip, pulling each other closer and did an odd combination of a hug and shoulder bump before releasing each other.

She said, “Trip.”

Then she gave him a glare when he turned his eyes to me, and I looked down at my hand in hers as the man said in a different tone, “And just who is this delightful woman?”

She growled at the man, “Eyes off man.  She's taken.”

Taken?  Wait, I read about this.  It is like staking a claim in the dating protocols.  Oh.  I felt my cheeks and my belly warm.  She was claiming me.

He chuckled and held his hands up in a placating gesture, his freckles causing deep shadows in his laugh lines.  She punched his shoulder as she said, “Liya, this is Tanner.  Trip is my... was my...”

He held a hand out to me, “Tanner O'Leary at your service, just call me Trip.  Sparky here is... was my partner.”

I released her hand to shake, and instead he took my fingertips and lifted the back of my hand to his lips.  Just before contact, Allison's hand slipped between us and he kissed her hand instead.

She growled, “Lips off leprechaun boy.”

He seemed quite silly as he made an acking sound while he clawed at his tongue like he had just tasted something unpleasant.  “Eww... Allie germs!”

I looked up to Allison for some sort of cue, not knowing how to react.  She had that smirk on her face that told me it was indeed funny and grinned and inclined my head, offering, “Ligaya Imelda Hannigan.”

He cocked an eyebrow and said slowly, “You don't look Irish.”

Allie shoved his shoulder. “Her mother is Filipino... idiot.”

He uttered an, “Ah,”  Trip nodded in an exaggerated manner as another tall man joined us.  The African American man had a look of curiosity on his face as he stopped beside Trip.

Trip looked suddenly apologetic as Allie eyed the man with something I would have to categorize as suspicion.  Are these normal reactions in a social setting?  Tanner introduced the man.  “Sparky,  Ligaya, this is my partner, Levar James.”

The man's eyebrows rose in surprise as he looked at Allie, then her cane as he offered his hand to her.  They shook as he asked Tanner, “This is 'the' Sparky?”  He emphasized the word the as he turned back to her when Trip grunted in acknowledgment.

His smile bloomed, and he shook a little more vigorously as he said, “It's a pleasure.  Trip never shuts up about you.”

They didn't let go of each other as Allie seemed to be sizing the man up, it was almost frightening, the intensity in her eyes.  She seemed satisfied and released his hand and said, “He's said nothing about you.”  Then she added with a smirk,  “Because he's an ass-face.”

Trip looked nervous but relaxed after the insult.  There seemed to be some sort of byplay and subtext that I couldn't put into context.  Levar nodded and shared her smirk, “That he is.”

Then he turned to me as Trip got an injured look on his face.  “Ligaya”  We shook, and he smiled down at me.

Trip supplied as Allison reclaimed my hand in hers, “Ligaya is Allie's girl, eyes front probie.”

I felt like my cheeks were on fire as I said, “Liya, please.”  Then I buried my face in Allie's shoulder.

Trip turned and said as he made an ushering motion toward the door.  “The old man is out back.  The boys are going to be stoked to see you.”

She stiffened again and nodded and started leading me along behind Levar and Trip as I tried to piece together all the odd reactions.  Why the scrutiny of Levar and the reticence on her part?  A little disconnected part of me wondered if she felt as though she had been replaced in some way now that her old partner had a new one.  Was that odd look on the other men's faces pity over her injury.  I had so many questions, but somehow I didn't think it would be prudent to ask Allison.

We were led through a mostly empty house.  We only passed a couple people.  Then out a sliding glass door to the backyard which was almost shoulder to shoulder people.  Over half the men and women wore those blue fire department shirts.

I tried to shrink away.  I was not very good in crowds of people, I never know what I was supposed to do.  She tightened her grip on my hand and pulled me in closer, and that eased a lot of the anxiety.  It was as though she were somehow conveying a message through the simple gesture, “I am here.”

When the crowd saw us step out, there was a pause as all the conversations stopped and all eyes went to us.  We both tightened our grips on each other in tandem.  Then a cheer went up.

We were mobbed by people.  Most were from Station Five, her old crew.  I was introduced around.  Almost to the man, they had the same smiles and almost haunted looks in their eyes for Allison.

We made our way through the yard and then paused as people parted.  There was a stout and grizzled man standing at the grill with a spatula in his hand, looking our way.  He reached out without looking and placed the spatula on the side of the huge barbecue grill.  I couldn't read the gruff expression on his face, but Allie swallowed.

She looked at me and exhaled and offered me her cane.  I took it and started to question her, but she said, “Hold this for me for a moment Imme?  I'll be right back.”  I nodded, my confusion could wait, she looked determined.

Then she limped off toward the man, everyone seemed to move back, giving her space.  She stopped in front of him, and I could hear her voice didn't sound right.  It was off timber and rough as she said, “Old man.”

He sized her up and smiled at her like my dad did to me and then pulled her into a hug as he said, “Sparky.  Glad you could make it.”

I whispered to Trip, “Old man?  Is this Allie's father?  She is reticent to discuss her parents with me.”