Chapter 9

I sat silent as a piece of bark in the magnolia tree. There was no way I could face Javelin after witnessing what had just transpired between him and Eva. He moved away from the tree, calling to me. “Blueberry Girl. Come out. I can smell your blueberry lips. It’s ok. I won’t hurt you.”

Silence. Then he said, “Look, Eva means nothing to me. I’m sure you saw what happened. It surprised me too. Don’t be shy. Come out.” Bushes rustled as he looked through them. I held my breath, letting it out in slow puffs of wind. My legs and arms were beginning to get cramped but I refused to budge.

Javelin begged, “Please come out from where ever you’re hiding. I want to know if what Eva said was true. Did you really paint me?”

I still wouldn’t answer. The image of Eva’s face in his lap was too strong. I was angry at her. Jealous of her ability to be so sexual without guilt. I didn’t want to talk to him until I had my emotions under control.

“Okay, Blueberry Girl. You win this round. But I’m not going to let this drop. We will talk. And soon.” I listened to his footsteps as they left the area. For good measure, I stayed in the tree for an extra twenty minutes before tentatively climbing down. There was no sign of him and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

I started up the path to home, but a sudden thought stopped me. If I went home via the longer path, which twisted around some huge pines, I could get a better look at the blueberry crop and give Mother a report when I got home. Maybe a good report would break the tension between us and give order back to our relationship. The path was abundant with blueberry bushes, which were covered in blossoms.

About twenty feet down the path I heard a rustling sound. Looking around, I realized there was no place to hide. Whoever or whatever was coming down the path would walk directly into me. I hoped it wouldn’t be a bear.

It was Kayla, Paul’s younger sister. She and I stared at each other and then began to laugh. “Vivvie, I thought you were a bear and prayed you weren’t” She hugged me and I patted her back. “It’s just me, Kayla.”

“And I’m glad!” She released me and looked around at the blueberry blossoms that covered the trail. “Look, not one single ripe blueberry.”

I laughed, “Kayla, it’s too early for them. The blossoms won’t drop for a few weeks.”
“I’m craving some fresh ones. All we have at home are the preserves your mother makes. No offense, but I’m tired of them.”

“None taken, because ...so am I!” We laughed again. Kayla was a plain girl, about three years younger than I was. My mother thought she was tubby but I didn’t. She looked healthy and her extra pounds didn’t subtract from her looks. I was envious of her ability to store fat, because I was thin and wan.

“Vivian, can I talk to you for a few minutes. Let’s go to the lake. I’m bored and don’t feel like going home yet,” Kayla said. I took her arm and we walked together down the trail, trying to make enough noise to drive away any wild animal lurking about.

We were the only people around. Sunlight created sparkles across the lake. We found some rocks that were large enough for us to sit on and watched the water for a while without speaking. I finally broke the silence. “It’s lovely out here.”

“Yes,” said Kayla. “Vivian, do you love Trent?” She picked up a stick that was lying on the ground in front of her and drew hearts in the dirt.

Taking a deep breath, I knew that I was going to be asked that question often while Javelin was here this summer. “Kayla, I love Trent. We’ve been together for a long time. He’s a good boyfriend--kind and tender. I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

“People are talking about you and Little James Bow-Ridge. Some are saying that you are sneaking behind Trent’s back. I told Freddy that you wouldn’t do anything like that. You’re a good person. At least you’ve always treated me well.”


“Kayla, people like to stir up trouble. And there are some who will fill in blanks if they don’t know the answers. I saw you talking to that geeky Miller boy the other day. How would you feel if people started talking about you and him?”

“Oh gosh, I would be embarrassed. He’s in my science class and tutored me some this year. I see what you mean though.”

“Rumors hurt people.” I said. Though there was truth in these, I thought.

“Did Trent tell you that Freddy and I are going steady?” I detected a slight blush on her cheeks.

“You are? That’s great.” I was happy for her. Trent’s little brother was a sweet guy, though he could be a devil when he wanted something.

Kayla laugh. “Paul told Freddy he would break his nose if he hurt me. That he didn’t care if he was Trent’s little brother or not.”

I laughed, too. “Paul’s protective of his little sister. You’re lucky to have him. I’m an only child. When I was little, I used to ask Santa for a baby brother or sister. Mother told me once that I was enough.”

“I wish I had a mother around.” Kayla gave a huge sigh. I wanted to hit myself in the head. I spoke without thinking. Kayla and Paul’s mom had disappeared seven years ago. No one knew where she went. Dirk Vendall’s father went missing at the same time. People speculated that they ran off together.

“I’m sorry, Kayla. It must be tough not having mother.” I went over to where she sat and hugged her, trying to offer comfort with clumsy words.

“She’s dead.” I froze when Kayla said that. “What do you mean?” I asked. “When did she die? She‘s gone is all, Kayla. There‘s no proof she died.”

Kayla’s chilly voice made me shiver. “Vivian, dead and gone are the same thing.”

We sat in silence for a long time. To me it was an awkward one. I wanted to get home or anywhere away from the morbid atmosphere around Kayla. There were times I wished my parents would drop dead, but I never really meant feeling that way. Kayla’s mom disappeared when she was seven. Her father, Sheriff Sawyer searched for Mrs. Sawyer for years, following every lead or reported sighting. Paul didn’t like to discuss his mother. She was a non-topic amongst us. He tried to be the best brother around, but try as he might, it wouldn’t make up for Kayla not having a mother during her teen years. These were important years. According to my mother, they were the years that defined what type of woman a girl would end up becoming.

After a few minutes, I said, “I hate to break up our girl time, but I’ve got to get home and study. Don’t you hate end-of-the-year finals?”

Kayla smiled and stood up. “Yes, I hate them. Oh, isn’t the art show tomorrow night?”

“Yes and I’m so nervous.” I said.

“Will the painting of Little James be in the show?” she asked.