Running Barefoot
Page 72
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“Goodnight, Josie.”
“Goodnight Samuel,” I whispered. He backed away, black eyes on blue, and then turned and picked up the items he had thrown to the ground. Then he slowly walked home, turning every now and then to watch me watching him. Then I listened to his footsteps fade as he moved beyond where my eyes could follow.
That night I tried to lose myself in Shakespeare and ended up staring at my Wall of Words. The writing had changed over the years, from the large loopy letters with heart-dotted i’s, to the neat script of a practiced hand. I quizzed myself absentmindedly, defining every word my eyes focused on.
fractious: tending to be troublesome; hard to handle or control.
insipid: dull, uninteresting
docent: teacher, lecturer.
immanent: My eyes stopped on the word, as a memory resurfaced. I remembered the day, many years ago, that I had discovered its meaning.
Samuel and I had been attacking some of Shakespeare’s sonnets for his English homework. I had been reading aloud and had come across the word immanent. I stopped, the usage not consistent with the word I thought I knew.
“You know.......imminent, meaning it’s about to happen ... it could happen any minute,” Samuel had volunteered.
“I don’t think that’s it . . . or it’s spelled wrong if it is. Look up immanent, with an ‘a’ instead of an ‘i’ in the middle.”
Samuel had sighed and opened up the dictionary, quickly skimming the pages until he found the word. He’d read it to himself and then looked up at me, shaking his head in wonder.
“You were right, it is a different word. You have a good eye ...or maybe it’s those elfin ears,” he said dryly.
Completely aghast, my hands had flown to cover my ears. I had absentmindedly tucked my hair behind my ears as I read, and I anxiously pulled the hair down again so it shielded them. I hated my ears! They weren’t big and they didn’t stick out from my head - but they were slightly pointed at the very tips. And to make matters worse, the tips turned out just a bit, giving me the look of one of Santa’s holiday helpers. When I was little, my mother had told me they made me look like a wood sprite. My brothers, of course, said they made me look more like a troll - and I had been hiding them ever since.
Samuel must have seen the dismay his words had caused. The blood rushing to my cheeks had made my face pound in concert with my heartbeat. I gripped the book in my lap tightly and asked him what immanent meant, eager to distract him from my crimson countenance.
He was quiet for several seconds, holding the dictionary, his eyes cast down. Then he reached up and gently tucked my hair back behind the ear closest to him. I froze, wondering if he was teasing me or poking fun at me.
But when he spoke there was no mischief in his voice. He said, “I like your ears. They make you look like a wise little fairy. Your ears help give you an immanent beauty.” His words were sincere, and I felt my curiosity peak. My look must have conveyed my question, for he quickly supplied the answer.
“Immanent: dwelling in nature and the souls of men.” His eyes met mine seriously.
After a moment, I slowly raised my hand and tucked back the hair on the other side, uncovering my other ear. I then continued on with the reading and nothing further was said on the topic.
When I got home from school that day, I wrote immanent on my wall and looked it up for myself. In addition to the definition Samuel had given me, immanent meant having existence only in the mind. I had laughed to myself and decided if the beauty of my ears existed only in Samuel’s mind it was good enough for me.
Smiling, I reached out and touched the word as I let the memory warm me. I was strangely soothed and suddenly very sleepy. I turned to my bed, climbed in, and fell instantly into a heavy and dreamless sleep.
17. Rubato
Samuel was waiting for me in front of my house when I slipped out into the rising sun the next morning for my run. Somehow I had known he would be. We hadn’t arranged it, but there he was. Today he wore sneakers and mesh shorts, his long brown legs muscled and lightly furred with dark hair. He wore another USMC t-shirt in soft grey. It fit snugly, clinging to his V shaped back and narrow torso. Yum. I walked towards him, not quite knowing what to say. Last night’s kiss was very fresh in my mind.
“Hi,” I said lightly. “Are you coming with me?”
Samuel looked me over silently, his eyes lingering on mine. He was never in a hurry to reply. I’d forgotten that about him. He always took his time when he talked, and I tamped down my urge to fill the silence. That was Samuel’s way. He might not reply at all. After all, he was obviously coming with me. The question was pretty rhetorical.
“I’m really hoping you’ll come with me,” he finally said softly, his voice deep and a little rough from sleep, indicating these were probably the first words he had spoken out loud since we’d parted the night before.
It was my turn to study him in silence, not sure what to make of his comment. He met my perusal with steady black eyes. We were quite the pair, standing in the middle of the road, staring at each other for long stretches, not talking. I laughed suddenly at our owlish behavior.
I threw my hands toward the mountains. “Lead on, Super Sam,” I said gallantly. “Wherever you want to go, I’ll follow.”
Samuel’s expression lightened at the old nickname, but he didn’t smile. “I’m going to hold you to that, Bionic Josie.”
Samuel started off at a pretty brisk pace, and I wasn’t naive enough to think he was trying to impress me. I knew better. The man was fit, and he knew how to run. I kept up pretty well, finding a rhythm and settling in. We didn’t converse at all, just ran in quiet companionship - our feet drumming and our breath echoing their cadence. We ran east a couple miles, climbing higher and higher as we neared the base of the canyon, until the fat orange sun had shoved off its mountain perch and hovered heavily just above us in the early morning sky. Then we turned, with its rays nudging at our backs, and ran back towards town. We picked up our feet as gravity pulled us forward, gaining speed as we hurtled back down into the valley.
“Goodnight Samuel,” I whispered. He backed away, black eyes on blue, and then turned and picked up the items he had thrown to the ground. Then he slowly walked home, turning every now and then to watch me watching him. Then I listened to his footsteps fade as he moved beyond where my eyes could follow.
That night I tried to lose myself in Shakespeare and ended up staring at my Wall of Words. The writing had changed over the years, from the large loopy letters with heart-dotted i’s, to the neat script of a practiced hand. I quizzed myself absentmindedly, defining every word my eyes focused on.
fractious: tending to be troublesome; hard to handle or control.
insipid: dull, uninteresting
docent: teacher, lecturer.
immanent: My eyes stopped on the word, as a memory resurfaced. I remembered the day, many years ago, that I had discovered its meaning.
Samuel and I had been attacking some of Shakespeare’s sonnets for his English homework. I had been reading aloud and had come across the word immanent. I stopped, the usage not consistent with the word I thought I knew.
“You know.......imminent, meaning it’s about to happen ... it could happen any minute,” Samuel had volunteered.
“I don’t think that’s it . . . or it’s spelled wrong if it is. Look up immanent, with an ‘a’ instead of an ‘i’ in the middle.”
Samuel had sighed and opened up the dictionary, quickly skimming the pages until he found the word. He’d read it to himself and then looked up at me, shaking his head in wonder.
“You were right, it is a different word. You have a good eye ...or maybe it’s those elfin ears,” he said dryly.
Completely aghast, my hands had flown to cover my ears. I had absentmindedly tucked my hair behind my ears as I read, and I anxiously pulled the hair down again so it shielded them. I hated my ears! They weren’t big and they didn’t stick out from my head - but they were slightly pointed at the very tips. And to make matters worse, the tips turned out just a bit, giving me the look of one of Santa’s holiday helpers. When I was little, my mother had told me they made me look like a wood sprite. My brothers, of course, said they made me look more like a troll - and I had been hiding them ever since.
Samuel must have seen the dismay his words had caused. The blood rushing to my cheeks had made my face pound in concert with my heartbeat. I gripped the book in my lap tightly and asked him what immanent meant, eager to distract him from my crimson countenance.
He was quiet for several seconds, holding the dictionary, his eyes cast down. Then he reached up and gently tucked my hair back behind the ear closest to him. I froze, wondering if he was teasing me or poking fun at me.
But when he spoke there was no mischief in his voice. He said, “I like your ears. They make you look like a wise little fairy. Your ears help give you an immanent beauty.” His words were sincere, and I felt my curiosity peak. My look must have conveyed my question, for he quickly supplied the answer.
“Immanent: dwelling in nature and the souls of men.” His eyes met mine seriously.
After a moment, I slowly raised my hand and tucked back the hair on the other side, uncovering my other ear. I then continued on with the reading and nothing further was said on the topic.
When I got home from school that day, I wrote immanent on my wall and looked it up for myself. In addition to the definition Samuel had given me, immanent meant having existence only in the mind. I had laughed to myself and decided if the beauty of my ears existed only in Samuel’s mind it was good enough for me.
Smiling, I reached out and touched the word as I let the memory warm me. I was strangely soothed and suddenly very sleepy. I turned to my bed, climbed in, and fell instantly into a heavy and dreamless sleep.
17. Rubato
Samuel was waiting for me in front of my house when I slipped out into the rising sun the next morning for my run. Somehow I had known he would be. We hadn’t arranged it, but there he was. Today he wore sneakers and mesh shorts, his long brown legs muscled and lightly furred with dark hair. He wore another USMC t-shirt in soft grey. It fit snugly, clinging to his V shaped back and narrow torso. Yum. I walked towards him, not quite knowing what to say. Last night’s kiss was very fresh in my mind.
“Hi,” I said lightly. “Are you coming with me?”
Samuel looked me over silently, his eyes lingering on mine. He was never in a hurry to reply. I’d forgotten that about him. He always took his time when he talked, and I tamped down my urge to fill the silence. That was Samuel’s way. He might not reply at all. After all, he was obviously coming with me. The question was pretty rhetorical.
“I’m really hoping you’ll come with me,” he finally said softly, his voice deep and a little rough from sleep, indicating these were probably the first words he had spoken out loud since we’d parted the night before.
It was my turn to study him in silence, not sure what to make of his comment. He met my perusal with steady black eyes. We were quite the pair, standing in the middle of the road, staring at each other for long stretches, not talking. I laughed suddenly at our owlish behavior.
I threw my hands toward the mountains. “Lead on, Super Sam,” I said gallantly. “Wherever you want to go, I’ll follow.”
Samuel’s expression lightened at the old nickname, but he didn’t smile. “I’m going to hold you to that, Bionic Josie.”
Samuel started off at a pretty brisk pace, and I wasn’t naive enough to think he was trying to impress me. I knew better. The man was fit, and he knew how to run. I kept up pretty well, finding a rhythm and settling in. We didn’t converse at all, just ran in quiet companionship - our feet drumming and our breath echoing their cadence. We ran east a couple miles, climbing higher and higher as we neared the base of the canyon, until the fat orange sun had shoved off its mountain perch and hovered heavily just above us in the early morning sky. Then we turned, with its rays nudging at our backs, and ran back towards town. We picked up our feet as gravity pulled us forward, gaining speed as we hurtled back down into the valley.
