Birthday Wishes

"Birthday Wishes"

Earlier

My parents left me alone for the rest of the summer yesterday. "We're headed out west for the next month, Seb. I know we've never left you alone with the house for this long, but you're going to be a sophomore in college next year, and we think you can handle it," my father had told me with a smile when they had first told me about the trip.

I live in Land's End, Indiana, about halfway up the state, thirty or forty miles from the Illinois border. It's on a stretch of road that no one ever seems to go down, and if you happen to decide that you want to listen to a different country radio station or perhaps Christian talk radio and look down to change it, you just might miss it. Only the post office is on county Road 428, and it is in a beat up, brown, one story building that you would never know was a post office, if you hadn't been raised in the town and made the trip about ten-thousand times.

The sign on the building was tin and was painted about the same time that Teddy Roosevelt was hunting gazelle in the African savannah, so needless to say, it's a bit rusty.

Most of the few who come down 428 never even know that we're here. But we are.

If they'd take the time to notice, there is one crossroad that intersects 428 named "End Road." You take that over a bit of a hill and you'll see Land's End- a quiet, stretching community, nestled in a valley surrounded by sloping hills. There is a covered bridge about a mile before you get to the town, just past the bottom of Ingress Hill. No semi would ever be let over that bridge, so most of the merchants pick up their supplies in pickups just off of U.S. 40 at a barnlike warehouse.

I'm sorry to go on about it, but I think that to really appreciate my story, you would have to understand the seclusion that this place offers. Land's End is a hidden twenty-five square mile flatland in Indiana that is not dedicated to farmland. Just about everything that could go awry in this finds a way to do just that. That's why I chose to go to Indiana University in Bloomington. But I am not there now, and this "world" will soon know. So soon, they will come knocking in droves. I just hope that the darkness, which clouds the skies of Land's End, doesn't realize that I am here until I am long gone to my sophomore year in a town vastly different than this.

The Day Before

         "Make sure to keep the grass mowed."

         That was the last thing my father had told me before my parents left. He did hug me before leaving, but before I knew it, he was in the driver's seat of the Cherokee, which was packed to the hilt. Then I was left to face my mother, who was monumentally more emotional about their departure than either Dad or me.

         "Seb, you know that your father and I are just a phone call away. I'm so worried about you," my mother finished, with a hug.

         "Aww, Mom, you don't have to worry; I'll keep the grass mowed."

         She looked at me, saw my smile, and chuckled, despite herself and with a tear in her eye, hugged me closer. She couldn't say anything else. She was too choked up. Then, my parents were gone.

         I was mowing the grass when the first neighbor noticed I was home. It was Mr. Hathaway, a retired Korean War hero, but he was mowing his grass with his slow moving rider, so he acknowledged me with no more than a slight nod. Next though was the reunion with whom I always dreaded more than any other neighbor we had.

         It was Hannah Park, the mother of Sinnoh Park, a stunning girl with whom I had graduated and known well. Hannah was always saying that because Sinnoh and I had grown up next door to each other, we were "destined by the stars to be together forever." That prospect had definitely crept itself into my dreams once or twice, but it was the nasally way in which this woman said it, which made me want to kick her in the side of the foot anytime I had ever walked behind her. She was not the most popular neighbor on this block.

         I tried to act like I didn't see her motioning for me to stop the mower from her porch. It wasn't that I didn't like her daughter, because as I have said, her daughter was spectacular- the type of girl that would have dated the quarterback or the pitcher. In her case, I believe that she had dated both. I didn't look at Hannah because I hate that feeling you get when somebody feels like they know better or what is best for you, when they do not live your life.

         It didn't really matter whether I answered or not; she was determined to get my attention. Before long, she was in my yard, nearly in my path, waving her skinny, yet somehow still flabby arms maniacally. I let the self-propelling handle of the mower go, and instantaneously, the noise from the engine died down to nothing. I heard, "you'd have dinner with us tomorrow. I know you're a capable boy, but-" she started another thought.

         I stopped her by saying, "Tomorrow? Tomorrow is my birthday. I was going to head over to Bloomington and spend the night there. You know, have some steak and hang out with a couple of my friends. I just got back from Randal's.

         "No, honey," she began in that nasally voice that made my soul want to scream. "That won't do at all. You think we older people didn't grow up once too. You're gonna head up to Bloomington and do what, exactly? It's the middle of the summer in a college town. You're thinkin' of headin' to a bar, maybe, with friends that you're gonna see soon enough, dearie, I'm sure. No. I think that a nice night in town would be perfect for you, and you could start it with dinner at our house with me and Sinnoh." I cringed at her lack of any of the basic grammar skills, but she continued, "Besides, college towns in the summer are dreadfully boring," I wondered if she had ever been to one, "They're dreadfully boring, darling." I hated the fact that she always called me "darling", but I hated the fact that she was probably right even more.

         "Mrs. Park," I began, before she cut me off.

         "Ms. Park, darling," she said with a smile.

         I narrowed my eyes. "Ms. Park," I said through a closed jaw, "It isn't like that. I just don't think that a whole lot of people around here really care that I am back, and I don't want to make a scene." Or worse yet, have a scene made at my expense, I thought.

         "Nonsense, darling. Sinnoh's been askin' about you all year." Hannah Park had a way of lying that she seemed to believe would make the town desire her family. Even though Hannah was concerned with little else than enhancing her family's stature in the community, her daughter and I had grown up together. I had, in high school, always had a corner of my heart open to the idea that when one of the guys she had dated was treating her abysmally, she would look at me and realize that I never wanted to hurt anyone, and that I would never treat her that way. That had been a long time ago though, and it had never happened. I had always had the feeling that Sinnoh liked the stereotypical, motorcycle riding bad guy or at least someone who had a hell of a lot more prick in his heart than I do.

         "I don't know, Ms. Park," I began again, "When I talked to Sinnoh last time, her boyfriend, Reggie, threatened to hit me in the back of the head with a nine iron. Now, I don't know that much about golf, but I do know that it's just a club away from a wedge. Regardless, the terms "iron" and "back of my head" used in the same sentence doesn't sound to be too appealing of a situation, at least not for me."

         "Darling, Sinnoh dumped Reggie months ago and hasn't been seeing anyone since. I'm sure she'll be delighted when you come."

         "I'm not going to tell you that I wouldn't have a good time with you, but I really can't. I promised my friends that I would go to B-town for my birthday," I protested in what I knew was a weak and failing voice.

         "Darling, I won't hear of it. You need to call your friends and tell them that something came up, and if they want to see you, they'll have to drive the hour to come see you. Really, I insist."

         Just then, I heard the familiar creak and sudden slamming of the Park's wooden storm door. Sinnoh had just stepped out. She was wearing a yellow bikini top with a brilliant, multi-colored beach towel wrapped around her waist. Her long, wavy, brown-to-the-point-of-being-black hair was shining in the strong, bright sunlight. She looked over at me, beamed a white smile, and waved.

         "Damn!" I mouthed under my breath. I guess that my mouth hadn't closed from the word though, because a moment later, Hannah reached up and pushed my bottom jaw so that it would close. She was laughing.

         "I will have dinner at six. You'll be there?" she asked.

         I nodded feebly.

         "I knew you would, darling." For once, I didn't get angry at the term. Hannah then turned away from me and headed to her back yard, probably to watch the ensuing encounter, but I didn't care.

         I thought about turning back to the lawn mower when I noticed the thick, dark clouds lining the distant sky.

         "Hey there, you!" came the voice, I had forgotten was so entrancing, almost intoxicating in its way. I turned back. "How was your year?" asked Sinnoh.

         "It was really cool. being twenty-one had its advantages." I was amazed at how easily I could fall back into talking to this girl, who had only grown in beauty. "I had a great time. It looks like you aren't going to have much time to tan," I said, changing the subject, trying with all of my might to keep my eyes above her neckline and motioning my head to the skyline behind me. She looked in the direction I'd gestured, and a confused look came into her eyes, and her eyebrows went into opposite directions. The confused expression became contagious as I looked back over my shoulder. The ominous skies I had seen were gone. I felt my head cock to the left, probably narrowing the gap between my eyebrows.

         "Did you see something in the sky that way?" Sinnoh asked me.

         Shaking my head, I answered, "I thought so."

         "Don't worry about it. I think there is someone back there, who burns tires or something. The wind probably just changed. Her smile was disarming. I relaxed to a visible degree, I guess, because she took a step closer. "I missed you," she said, "What has it been? Almost three years?"

         "Something like that. Your mom was just..." I trailed off, not sure how to continue without sounding dumb.

         "Making sure you would be over for your birthday," she finished for me. "It was my idea, this time anyway. I have been away with the Peace Corps, and I really have missed you."

         "Really?" I asked, and then continued, "Why?"

         "Stop being so cute. I've been your neighbor for how long? Don't try to tell me that you never thought of me. I always knew you had a crush on me," she said with a nod and a wink.

         "You did?" I felt like an idiot. All I could ask were simple questions. "I mean what would make you think that?"

         "Well, you always used to stare at me in A.P. U.S. History," she answered.

         "I did not."

         She laughed, and not in a condescending way. "Yeah, you did. I noticed. Janice told me too."

         I wondered if I was giving her the same look now, before I said jokingly, "That bitch!"

         "Did you know that she wanted you to ask her out all through high school?"

         "Really?" I asked, perplexed. Janice French wasn't the type of girl that you would expect would like someone like me. She was the lead dancer, was extremely pretty, and even though she had always been extremely friendly to me, I would have never have even thought of asking her out.

         "Oh yeah, she was always talking about how hot you were. She's always been into that quiet, cute, book-reading type of stuff- always a big dork at heart. She always made sure that she was taking all the same English classes as you; she went on about how you were such a poet. Sometimes, I guess, it takes some girls longer to appreciate some things than others. Probably some girls never will." She sighed while looking up and to the left.

I was shaking my head in disbelief, and Sinnoh continued, "She ended up marrying Dean Stanton. They just had their first kid about a month ago. I guess she's really happy with Dean, but the baby had some sort of deformity. She was why I never told anyone that I liked you in school."

"You liked me too? Now you're just jerkin' me around," I said with my perpetually cocking eyebrow.

"No way- Janice was my best friend, and she was sure that you would have taken her hints at some point. I couldn't step on her toes, but then you went away to school."

I had completely forgotten what it had been like to be in high school. I had felt so unpopular. Now, I was hearing about how two of the hottest girls in school, girls I had thought about in my most secret moments, had looked at me with thoughts I could never have guessed back then.

Sinnoh was standing, looking at me. She had moved the towel up by this point, but I hadn't noticed. So lost in bewildering thought I had been. She continued. "So anyway- a friend once told me that all people are born with one of seven gifts- something that they are naturally good at. Mine is the ability to be able to look into someone's eyes and see into their soul. She said that you could learn the others as you grow. But when I look into your eyes, I can't tell what you are thinking. Will you come?"

"Do you really want me to?" I asked, trying to wrap my mind around how wrong I had been in my younger years.

"Of course, Sebastian. I don't expect it from you, but like I said, I have missed you. I understand if you're busy though."

"I'll come," I said, with a hint of a smile. "Just let me finish the grass here, and I'll call my friends and let them know that I won't be going."

She didn't say anything for a second. Then she rushed forward and kissed me on the cheek, while wrapping me in a gentle hug. "Cool," she said, with a bit of a smile on her face as well.

I watched her walk to her lawn chair and lie down. I thought that I had sensed a bit of a blush on her face as well, but I couldn't be sure if it might have just be the summer sun beginning to affect her delicate skin.

I started the mower, finished the lawn, waved to Sinnoh, but she didn't wave back. I thought that she might have fallen asleep in her lawn chair and doubted that she had even seen me.

Either way, I headed back into my parents' house. I headed to the fridge. I considered my options. I hadn't intended on drinking any of the six pack of Upland Wheat that I had bought earlier that week for my birthday, but given the knowledge that I had not been as undesirable as a teen as I had believed, I decided that a simple indulgence was indeed permissible and pushed the plethora of Rolling Rock aside.

I turned on the T.V. and tuned into WGN, hoping that a Cubs game was on. It was, but the Cubs were down nine to two. I changed the channel.

I ended up falling asleep hearing how both Nostradamus and the Mayan calendar agreed that the world was doomed to end on December 21st 2012. Nostradamus is little more than vague and lucky, and the Mayan calendar refers simply to a cycle of our star, Solaris, its twin on the outskirts of an obscure, unremarkable spiral galaxy. This calendar, taken in reverse, does not match up with any of the geological or biological references to dramatic global change that has occurred in Earth's history.

I remember my last thought of the day being: it is so much more important that I recycle the bottle from which I was then drinking. After that, I remembered nothing but the dark oblivion granted by truly deep sleep until the morning.

The Day Of

         I awoke the next morning earlier than I was used to for no reason that I could discern. The sun wasn't in my eyes, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was my birthday, and I stretched the fatigue out of my muscles. It was then that Kiki, my black cat- my personal dark omen, growled with a ferocity that had been hitherto unknown to me.

         Then there was a desperate squeaking that was also unfamiliar to me. I rolled out of bed and darted to the sound. I rounded the corner of the living room into the dining room, where I had thought I had heard the commotion. There was nothing there but a smear of blood that streaked the hardwood floor.

         Now, I am no forensic pathologist, but it appeared to lead into my father's office. I headed in to see if I could find the source of the commotion. Still there was no sign, but the open entrance to the basement was in the room. I flipped on the light switch.

         At the foot of the stairway, Kiki was holding something that seemed huge in her mouth. Whatever it was, I congratulated my little hunter with a nod and a gentle squint of my eyes. Then I had to turn away as nausea nearly overwhelmed me. I wasn't much of a hunter- reason 2,512 that I wasn't the most popular chap in Land's End. I turned to go back to the couch to regroup when Kiki bound up the stairs behind me. I was relieved that she had relinquished her fated prey.

         She rushed from the office, to the dining room, and then finished in the kitchen before stopping in front of the cabinet that held her treats. I decided that the unwanted and most assuredly dead pest, which had not become my alarm clock, did indeed warrant a treat. I ended up giving her nine of them, one for each life I hoped she still had left. She seemed so proud of herself with her head and tail held high, and I agreed.

Still, I wasn't prepared to take care of the beastly monster of monsters that my tame hunting cat had vanquished, so I made my way back to the blue leather loveseat and fell back to sleep with Kiki perched halfway on my chest, purring the growl of victory.

When I awoke for the second time, the sun was much brighter, and Kiki was gone. I noted with abhorrence that the blanket where Kiki had lain on me had a streak of blood on it. I sat up to plan my next move.

"Well," I said aloud, "I have to get this mess cleaned up." It wasn't the ideal way to start my birthday for the second time, but some things can't be helped.

The blanket made it into the washer. I made my way to the garage to discern the least difficult way to remove the hassle of my earlier morning. I considered my dad's shotgun but wasn't sure what size shot would completely "erase" the mess, then considered that I would probably just end up like Ralphie, from A Christmas Story, and I did not wear glasses. As appealing as a trip to the hospital sounded, I decided to use two shovels.

I'll spare you the gory details of my heroic feat that day, but will tell you that the fact that it had only been a female cardinal had made the ordeal much easier for me to overcome. As I performed the macabre duty, I thanked Kiki once more.

After I had completed the task, I was exhausted again. Before I could make it back to the sofa though, I saw that the clock's hands were heading south for the day. The afternoon was upon me. I remembered the credo of one of my friends at college. "There's nothing wrong with drinking after noon." So I grabbed a Rolling Rock. I swear that it has made it to the uppermost reaches of my food pyramid; it's cheap, domestic, good ol' fashioned fun.

I popped the cap, tossed it into the trash can, then took my first pour, felt the refreshment eek its way past my tongue, down my esophagus, and splash into a burning puddle in my stomach. "I relish these moments," I said with a wink to the air around me.

The Cubs were playing again, but again, they were losing, again badly enough that I couldn't stand to watch. It turned out that they managed a miraculous comeback, but I didn't get to see it- my unseen birthday present.

Instead, I decided to get myself something to eat. It was my birthday, and I had gone to Randal Wayvern, a local butcher, and had picked up some of the choicest steaks you could hope to find. I had thrown them into an excellent marinade, the contents of which shall remain a secret. I can, however, tell you that it requires various ingredients to be mixed in at different times.

Before I headed outside, I tossed the last drink of my Rolling Rock onto the cow's flesh, lifted the steak, swirled the liquid underneath, before dropping the beef back down onto the plate.

After firing up the gas grill and dropping the slice on, I poured the last of the myriad of fluids from the plate onto the steak. I relished the sizzle that hissed from the liquid battling the fire.

It didn't take long for the steak to get to medium-rare greatness. Soon enough, I was sitting on the couch, channel surfing, eating the cow Old McDonald wished he could have ever had.

I wasn't even finished with my meal before a knock caused me to put down the plate. It was Hannah. I would love to tell you that I wasn't irritated, but I have never counted myself as one of the great liars in history, so I try to avoid it at all costs.

"I know how particular your family is to your own foods," Hannah said in a tone that suggested I should let her choose the meal. So if there is anything that would make this dinner more special, I thought you might want to go ahead and give it to me now, so you will feel more comfortable when you're over later, darling."

I wanted to go in the kitchen and grab a can of SpaghettiOs and throw it at her head, but realized the repercussions of causing blunt force trauma to this lady, so I grabbed another three slices of the beef I had been preparing. As I handed her the plate of raw meat, I said, "I'll bring over a Pinot Noir that will really set off the flavors. I like my steak medium rare." I thought then that "death by SpaghettiOs" would read better as an obituary than any I had read to this point in my life.

I went to finish my steak and realized it had grown cold. I decided to open the present my parents had left for me on the table just inside the front door. It was wrapped in thick, brown paper and sealed with hemp twine. It was about the size of a standard textbook. The light weight in my hands confirmed that it was not any sort of book, however. I tore away the thin rope, then removed the paper with care, and dropped the trash on the table.

It was a FedEx box addressed both to and from my father. I opened it and was dismayed when only a card emptied from the package. In the card, there was no money; instead there were several gift certificates to various businesses in Bloomington. I shrugged. What did I expect, really- a Star Wars figurine?

When you get older, you start to realize how unimportant your birthday becomes to other people. My parents had left town for mine. If it wasn't important to them, I would make my own celebration. Suddenly, the prospect of having dinner with Sinnoh was even more appealing.

I went to the kitchen to have a light snack and glass of water to cleanse my palette, so the Pinot Noir would taste alright after the beer I had drank earlier. After the snack, I took a shower and shaved, dressed and scented up, watched the clock hands work their way to a completely vertical position and headed to the door.

I knocked on the wooden storm door that led into the Park residence, and barely a moment later, Hannah opened the door.

"Oh darling, you're late," said the lady, whose voice always my nerves flare up with a wildfire's impermanent invincibility

I felt the eyebrow above my left eye shoot up. "Ms. Park, you told me to come at six o'clock."

"Darling, you are mistaken. There's no sense in arguing about it now though. Head into the dining room and pull up a chair. I'll get the steaks, and I made tator tots and green beans as well, then you can get to your birthday dinner.

I started to ask her where Hannah was, but before I could, she was gone. I made my way into the dining room, placed the wine in the middle of the table, and took my seat. I noticed that only two places had been set. I felt relieved at the idea that Hannah was going to leave us alone for the evening. I wondered again why the house was so quiet, before Hannah came through the door with the green beans and corkscrew.

She handed me the corkscrew, which I immediately put to use. She turned back toward the kitchen before I could say anything but was back in seconds with the golden brown tator tots and steaks. She dropped the sirloin onto my plate and sat at the other place setting.

"Where's Sinnoh?" I was finally able to ask.

"Darling, it's rude to talk before you're done gettin' all your food."

I wanted to scream at her that it was my birthday, but said instead, "Excuse me, Ms. Park," my voice slicing with a sarcasm that could have separated California from North America, "Do you have any SpaghettiOs?

She eyed me narrowly before answering, as nasally as ever, "No, I'm sorry darling. I don't serve processed foods."

"Then what the hell are these tator tots?" my mind screamed.

I slid a meager amount of the other foods onto my plate and poured myself a glass of the crimson liquid that had made the trip to Hades with me.

"Ketchup?" Hannah asked.

"No, thank you," I replied through gritted teeth. "Where is Sinnoh, Ms. Park?" I asked as I cut into the steak, which was medium well. I cringed at the waste of so fine a cut of beef.

"She left with Reggie about an hour ago, darling." My stomach sank.

I had never eaten so quickly before; I doubt I will ever eat so quickly again. Before there could be any protest, I drained my wine in two gulps and said, out of courtesy alone, "Thanks for having me over, but I just remembered that I have somebody else I promised to go see." Before she could say anything, I was out the front door, headed home in an angry huff.

I sat on the couch for twenty minutes before deciding that I had to get out. I grabbed the keys to my dad's old, dull grey Buick Century. I left Land's End, positive that more catastrophes awaited me if I stayed. I wanted to drive to nowhere in particular, got lost at least three times, and managed to end up where I had wanted. I parked the car, got out, and sat on the hood of the car.

Sometime during the drive, my mother had texted me wishing me a brief birthday wish, which raised my spirits a little. I was determined to do something with my night that would make the birthday worthwhile.

The sun was going down, and there was a slight cloud cover. The western sky had darkened from its light blue into a universal orange, but the clouds were an eclectic mix of neon pink, rimmed in the yellow color of the sun. The orange sky began to give way to a purplish color and the clouds turned to an ethereal black, tipped with silver. It was time to go.

The Night Of

         There was an old drive-in movie theatre on the outskirts of Land's End that always played classic movies, of which I am a huge fan. I had not visited the establishment since I had first left town for college. The movies had always started at ten o'clock, and I couldn't imagine why that might have changed. I went home to freshen up. By the time I was ready, it was 9:45

         I pulled up to the entrance in time to see that previews were still playing. "The Seventh Seal" would be playing in two days, which was slightly disheartening. I looked at the sign at the entrance, and it informed me that tonight we would be watching "The Body Snatcher." It was one of my favorite of the classics, so it looked like my birthday was going to end on a good note with both of the master actors of the horror films of that era.

         I sat by myself on the hood of the car and watched most of the movie play out. Boris Karloff played the cabman, John Gray, who supplied the doctor, played by the great Ba Lugosi, and his assistant, Joseph, who was played by Henry Daniell with bodies to dissect for research purposes. It is a well-known fact that Ba Lugosi and Boris Karloff shared no love for each other, and in this film, that anti-chemistry worked to perfection in helping to express the desperation of the doctor and his assistant while the cabman, whom they had hired for the task of exhuming dead bodies turned to murder as an easier way to obtain the desired corpses.

         The movie was about two-thirds of the way through, and I was thinking that Robert Wise had done an excellent job in bringing this old Robert Louis Stevenson short story to the screen. In an era where special effects were very difficult to produce, this was a film that required almost none. In order to effectively bring the story to life, however, the legendary actors simply needed to let their true feelings toward each other show- to not act- to show the greatness of the tale to successfully convert it to cinema.

         Motion to my side caused me to look over and I saw Sinnoh marching toward the concession stand. She looked upset but then looked over and saw me and flashed a sincere smile. She walked over to me, and I slid from the hood of the Century, a task made difficult by the rough paint.

         "Hey, you!"

         "Hey, you." I replied, despite my earlier disappointment with this girl. "I was wondering about you. Are you okay?"

         "Yeah, about that: it's just that..." she trailed off and her stunning eyes grew wide.

         I heard a voice behind me scream, "I told you!"

         I saw a streak of gleaming silver, felt an explosion of burning pain, and saw a whirling glimpse of the ground rushing toward me. I realized for the briefest of moments that the prick had done it. I was falling to the might of a nine iron. Who brings their golf clubs to a movie theatre? Then there was only an inviting and forgiving darkness.

The Morning After

         The heavy clouds in my mind gave way to a light fog. "There you are," I heard before my eyes opened. It was Sinnoh above me cradling my head in her lap. "How do you feel?"

         I noticed her luscious wavy hair shining with platinum streaks where it reflected the light of the moon. I shook some of the grogginess from myself and noticed we were still at the drive-in inside of my dad's Buick. Even in the moonlight, I could see the bruise on her left cheek.

         "I've never felt better," I lied. She giggled with a sound that would cause men to leap from a perfectly good boat and swim to a damning shore. I asked then, "Are you?"

         "I'm fine. Reggie slapped me after you fell to the ground."

         "That bastard," I growled.

         "Yeah, but he got his ass beat by several guys who saw it happen. Then the office called the cops, and he got taken to jail. The cops told me to come up to the station to get a restraining order filed in the morning, but he was arrested for two counts of assault- one with a deadly weapon and disturbing the peace.

"Judge Timmons is friends with my mom and told her that the next time Reggie got into trouble, he was going to throw the book at him. Oh, and the cops released you into my care, obviously." She smiled.

         "So what about Reggie?" I asked still not fully understanding her.

         "So Reggie's gonna be away for quite a while." She paused, as if thinking carefully about what to say next. "Look, I am really sorry I missed having dinner with you last night, but Reggie showed up. When he heard that you and I were going to be hanging out, he got this crazy look in his eyes like he was going to hurt you or maybe even something worse. I didn't know what else to do."

          I sat up and looked at this girl, whom I thought had simply not cared about me with a newfound feeling that I had never before experienced. "It's okay," I told her with a long, deep look into her eyes; they were green, and even in this pallid light, they echoed the moon.

         "Is it?"

         Sinnoh reached across the seat and grasped my hand. After a brief moment lost in her emerald orbs, I tightened my grip a bit and pulled her close to me.

         She leaned over and kissed my cheek, however, unlike the time before, this was a longer kiss that had a simple hunger to it. I looked over. Her lips met mine. Then the sun crested the horizon and the sky lit up with the palette of the gods. It was beyond my ability to describe. We watched the sun rise and each other. I have never seen anything so beautiful.

         18