“The Desert Rose Letters” 6 “A Love Calling”

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A Love Calling

It wasn’t too long before the gym was packed, which blew my mind, as no one ever talked about the volleyball team. They were apparently the black sheep of the red-headed stepchild because Emily’s dad recounted how they had won nearly every single game so far and were going to go to state. He whispered that he couldn’t say exactly how he knew, he just said, ‘modesty forbids’ and gave me a wink.

If I was staring at his daughter too much he didn’t seem to notice, and he kept the fire going by shouting shout words of encouragement to all the girls on the team, even if they crashed to the floor after missing a heavy serve or slammed in the face by a spike. The precision teamwork was there. I had to wonder how she handled playing as a team when a lot of the girls on the team, as she had said, didn’t really care for her but more for her ability to play. I would have felt used and taken advantage of.
“Gotta work with everybody,” her mother said to her dad after a rough volley occurred and two members of our team, Leslie and Teri, collided. If looks could kill, they would have shot each other dead at mid court.
“Yep. Maybe we should have the team out at the house for a cookout or something.”
“As long as I get to bake a pie,” the older said.
“Pie with hamburgers?”
“Everything goes good with pie. Right, Kyle?” The younger sister asked.
“Apple or Pecan?” I asked.
“Both,” she replied.

I smiled a bit at that, and her younger sister smiled back at me with a toothy grin.
Emily moved tp the net and to spike the ball back to the other side, but the other team slammed it back into her face and she fell to the court.

The crowd went into hysterics and I, for a moment wanted to body slam that other player but my thought subsided as Emily stood up and gave a small grin, even though her face was splotched red and white from the impact.

“Way to get up, there, girl!” Her father yelled as the game continued.

Soon, the score was ridiculously in favor of the opposing team and at the final hit, we lost by five points. The team gathered in the center of the court and then broke away as the fans clapped. They had given it their best and although it hurt that they were knocked out, Emily didn’t seem to show it as she walked over to us and stood next to me.
“How we’d do?”
“Great. I’m sorry I never watched you play before.”
“You got basketball season.”
“Yes, I do,” I replied as Emily grabbed my hand.
“You move like molasses out there, Em.” Her other sister said with a glint of sarcasm.
“Too much pie. Courtesy of you. Ah, well, everyone has met Kyle, right?”

“Yes, we have,” her mother replied as she looked at me with a smile. “Go get out of your uniform.”
“Can we give him a ride home?”
“Yes,” her father said as he waved her on. ‘Go.”

I stayed with the rest of Emily’s family as we waited for her to come out of the locker room. I saw several other students I knew but I feigned saying hello or waving as they never cared to acknowledge me. Mr. Martin said some form of greeting to everyone who passed by and some nodded in reply or commented on how it was a great game. Mrs. Martin stood next to her older daughter, who I learned was named Charlotte, but wen ruby the name “Charlie”—but not Chuck, “Never call her Chuck unless you want her to yell at you, constantly,” the youngest sister, Scarlett, warned me in a low whisper.
I thanked her for the tip.
“Do you like Emily?” Scarlet asked.
“Yes,” I replied, surprisingly with very little hesitation.
“How much?”
“I don’t think I can explain it,” I said.
“Is it like this?” She asked while stretching her hands out so far out it was like she was ready to take on a game of “Limbo”.
“Maybe more so,” I replied as Emily walked up behind her.
“She talks about you.”
“Yes, I do,” Emily replied. “See, his ears are burning.”
“I don’t see any fire coming out.”
“Wait,” I said as I stepped closer to Emily.
“Can Kyle stay with us for a few minutes before we take him home?” She asked her father.
He looked at the two of us and then to Mrs. Martin. It was like they had some form of telepathy.
“Stay in the living room. Scarlett is the middleman. Um, person.”
“Fair enough,” Emily replied.
Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“Middleman?” I asked Emily as the rest of the family walked ahead of us.
“Scarlett will sit in between us. My parents did it with Charlie when Scar had this huge car seat. She couldn’t see, what was his name?”
“Ryan!” Charlotte said with a bit of disgust.
“It was like a tank, but so is Scar now.”
Her little sister turned around and stuck her tongue out.
“Emily,” Mrs. Martin said with a slight note of disdain.
“Sorry.”

The Martin’s owned a newer model minivan. I sat in the back with Emily and, true to their word, Scar’s car seat sat between us. I didn’t mind it too much even as Scar asked more questions than a police interrogation, including asking about the scars on my arm. At that moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the engine as everyone else stopped talking.
‘Scar,” Mr. Martin started. I wanted to say that it was an accident, as it was—an accident of my mind wanting to die—but I would leave that part out. “Remember when I said that sometimes there’s pain to the heart and sometimes it shows in some ways.”
“Did Jesus save you?” Scar asked. “He helps people who feel bad. You should talk to him.”
“Maybe I’ll give him a call in the morning.”
“Okay,” she replied.

The Martins lived a few miles out of town, about midway from my house, but several backroads in the wrong direction. It was dark, and I couldn’t tell exactly where we were when we arrived at their house I could see it was a small two-story of a unique design: An A-frame house attached to another building, maybe a former barn. The inside looked nothing like outside: like it was much more elaborate with a large dining room and living room: a staircase with a short landing that lead upstairs and a room that, from what I could see, had several bookshelves.

“Let me go and run my things upstairs. Have a seat.” Emily motioned to the couch as she ran upstairs.
I looked around the room a little more and then sat down on the couch that nearly swallowed me as the pillowy cousins sank. I looked like a four-year old king on a grand and mighty throne. Scar walked by and laughed at my inability to move out of the corner.

“He needs help.” She yelled out.
“No, he’s okay,” Emily shouted back from upstairs.
I was okay, but I also didn’t want her to see me completely jammed into the furniture. I twisted around and then rolled out and onto the floor.

Emily stood over me. “It happens a lot. We call it the Corinthian Leather Flytrap.”
“Fitting name,” I replied as she put her hand out to help me up.
“How about the kitchen table? Not as comfortable, but you won’t get eaten.”
“Okay.”
“Scar,” Emily said, “your services will not be needed.”
“Fine!” Her sister said with a scowl as we walked into the kitchen.

We sat across from each other at the table. There were so many thoughts going through the mind at that moment: Fear, happiness, worry, regret, calmness, love. My face must havre expressed them all within a flash of a few seconds.
“I’m still having dreams about you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I think I was in one of them. At least I want to think I was. My dreams are usually like movies or shown from my eyes, so I assume it’s me.”
“What happened?”
“It was a dance or something but we we’re wearing like, t-shirts and jeans while everyone else is suits and dresses, flowers and everything.”
“Casual attire.”
“My wedding’s going to be like that too.”
“Really?” I asked with a small laugh, not sure if she was hinting at something.
“Yeah, or its at least going to be comfortable. I may be this thin or my metabolism may finally slow down, but I refuse to cram myself into a dress that I’m going to wear once. Wait, that means for Prom I’ll have to wear something else besides jeans. Perhaps a little dressy, maybe.”
“Can’t war anti-gravity shoes with a dress.”
“Yeah, that’s true. It could reveal more than I’d want others to see.”
“Interesting dance pictures though,” I said as I placed my hands on the table. Emily reached hers out to meet mine.
“Yep.”
We sat across form each other with our hands together and our eyes locked. I thought maybe her family did possess sometime of psychokinetic powers or something because her gaze filled my mind with millions of more thoughts, but none of them were of fear, worry, or regret. Just like a few days prior: all my past feelings of despair went away.

We sat and talked without thinking about the passage of time until Mr. Martin walked in.
“It’s nine-thirty.”
I felt a bit guilty about not calling my parents, something that I wouldn’t have cared about a week before, that maybe they would be upset.
“What is your number, Kyle?” Mr. Martin asked as he picked up the phone mounted to the wall in the kitchen.
“337-2369,” Emily replied to him.
I nodded.

We walked out of the kitchen as Mr. Martin called my parents. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t have me call, but I was okay with being alone with Emily for a few minutes outside.

“Thank you.” I said.
“For what?”
“For being you.” I replied as I tried to see her face in the low light.
“You need to know something, Kyle.”
“What?” I asked as she stepped closed.
“You are loved. By a lot of people, you just haven’t been able to see it. You have to love yourself like I do.”
“Like you love yourself? I asked.
“No, like how I love you.”
“I do.”
“And there’s so, so much more for us. You know?”
“How do you do it?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“How do you have this joy. I feel like I’m a soulless vampire near you.”
“Maybe you are. We all are. We’re all lost people of the night; trying to grasp onto that person who keeps us going.”
“You’re that person for me.”
“It can’t be just me. You have to want to keep going too,” she said as took my hands and moved closer to me.
“I do, as long as you’re with me.”
“You need to promise me something.”
“Anything,” I replied.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“Whatever it is. If you ask me, I’ll do it.”
“I want you to smile for you. Be the beautiful and thoughtful person you are with me, even if you feel like turning over in bed and just giving up for the day. I’ve been there, I’ve cried like you have and I don’t want to see anything ever happen to you.”
Emily wrapped her arms around me and and I slowly moved my hands to embrace her as well.
“I promise.”

-signed,
Kyle Jovnakah

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