Almost
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A light wind from the east pushes the water toward the shore. A loon calls its haunting song out as it drifts lazily in the hot summer sun. The retreat and advance of water leaves the sand on the beach wet one minute and dry the next. The bright rays beating down on my back has me wanting to jump into
the cool water.
This week at work was good. I didn’t have anything exciting happen. It allowed me to just concentrate on getting things where I like them. I haven’t felt nor have I seen Clayton since that day. I feel good about that. Out of sight, out of mind. The Luna has even left me alone. On Friday, Dallas approached me to see if I was still interested in a canoe trip on Saturday, and at first, IsaidI was busy. His reply was that he “understood.” The way he said it was like he understood it had something to do with him. So Itold him I would be there, and here we are.
There’s a little island in the center of the lake that Dallas is taking us toward. We’ve been out canoeing for at least an hour, and my shoulders are burning with the effort. It doesn’t look like it would be this hard, but it is.
you want.
“You okay?” he questions behind me. “You can stop paddling if
“No, it’s okay, I’m just not used to this,” I reply, trying to push through the fire my arms are
“This is called Blueberry Island.” He jumps out of the
feeling.
water, getting his shorts wet, pulling the canoe toward shore. He puts his hand out to steady me as I get out. When our hands meet, he looks away. I can’t see his eyes because he’s wearing sunglasses. It feels weird not being able to see wolves‘ eyes. They
hold our soul.
I walk into the bushes, and the moss is so thick my feet sink down into the forest floor. Small wild blueberry plants line the sponge–soaked soil, carpeting it in specks of blue. These tiny morsels are so abundant and packed with the taste of deep summer.
Sitting down, gathering the blueberries up, I start gorging on the feast nature is providing. The coolness of the shade and the earth smooths out the mid–day heat.
“Here, take some of mine.” He fills my handfull, watching me eat what he has just given me. He has a small smile gracing his face that makes him look
cute.
He’s in a short sleeve shirt that’s loose against his chest, but when he moves, it becomes slightly tighter, showing off muscles hidden by the material. His bicep flexes, peeking out his sleeve as he reaches and bends for more blueberries. Gazing at his forearms, I see something that makes me gasp.
Reaching out my fingertip, I trace the single line that runs from his inner wrist to his elbow. The scar is raised, more white than pink in color; it’s old. Silver did it. He did this to himself…he meant his death when he did that; only the serious who think they want to meet the moon try to end their own life with that kind of cut. They don’t understand that if you end your own life, you will never meet the moon.
“What did you do?” The question hangs in the air between us.
He looks down at his own arm, and his face takes on a solemn look.
“I’in surprised you haven’t seen this before now.” He doesn’t try to hide it behind his back; instead, he traces the delicate line. “I was young. I just thought that ending my life was the solution I was looking for. I was wrong.” He looks away from me as if remembering everything. “My mate, she died, and I thought that I just couldn’t go on without her. I gave up.” His voice shakes slightly, but he holds himself together.
“Sometimes I feel the same way, but I just can’t do it.” I let my confession leak out. I have never told anyone this. He takes his glasses off eyes of his that hold the color of a perfect blue sky.
“Don’t ever think that. Promise me. He’s not worth your life.” His hands grab my arms, not roughly, just to hold me slightly.
“Please, if you ever feel that way, come to me.” Inod my head at him, not trusting my voice at the moment.
“Look at me. He’s not worth it.”
So I see those
“Iknow.” His eyes hold mine for a moment, assessing me for the truth. “I would never do anything like that, really. I’ve got my work now that I love. I’ve got my family. They have already been through enough.”
“You should talk with Aurora. She’s really good. I talk with her myself at times.” He doesn’t hide the fact that he needs someone to help him.
“I just started to. I think it’s going to be good for me.”
“I will, trust me.” I still have his forearm in my hand. I can feel the heat his skin is giving off. His hand goes over mine with a little squeeze before he pulls himself away from my grasp. Putting his glasses back on, he stands,holding his hand out for me to take.
My chest almost brushes against him as he helps me stand. I can sense a shiver go through him. His eyes are hidden by his glasses. “We should go.” That’s all he says as he turns around, heading toward the canoe.
Book Chapter16
