Thanks for the reviews! After writing in the vamp section & having to BEG for reviews, the quick responses have me jumping off walls! Keep it up, & I'll write fast. Oh, I want to try something new. I'll give you the next chapter title, & I'd like to know what you guys think will happen. This could be fun… for me.
He's flipping through my sketchbook. He takes his time as he looks at each page, his strong fingers tracing the skirts and girls' faces. His smile is amazing, all teasing and happy and mischievous. I think he's looking at me, too. Are his eyes seeing me in those dresses, too? Is he imagining himself in the men's outfits? His smile tells me that he knows I'm not crazy.
He's pulling my closer. He drops my book and steals a kiss.
"I love you," he whispers in my ear.
I laugh because his breath tickles, and he's never said that before.
"I love you, too."
He steals another kiss.
My sleepy mind lazily swirls back into darkness, the inside of my head blank because it's out of dreams.
The birds are what really woke me up, I think. I could hear their endless chirps through my empty thoughts, and the sun's bright rays were lighting my sight even though my eyes were still closed. The morning came to rudely wake me, just shouting, "Wake up, Mary! It's going to be another hot, summer day. It's another repetitive day in Biloxi, Mississippi." How I hated the Mississippi summer heat!
I got out of bed and took a good, long look in the mirror. I didn't look too tired, so maybe those really were dreams last night- except that last one which was too real to be thought up. I could still see the hazy, semi-awareness effects of the vision in my bright blue eyes, something I could easily hide. That's where most of the family resemblances ended though. Due to spending so much time outside I was fairly tan, and I had miniature features from my nose to my tiny toes. To make me even more of an outcast in my own house, I had long, inky black hair with little wave to it, and my parents had thick, dark blonde hair. My mother and sister, when they left their hair alone anyway, had large curls. Honestly, I looked more like Uncle Ray and Aunt Norma than my parents.
"Cynthia, don't forget about your choir practice this afternoon. Mary, will you takes some more drawing to Father Matthew? And neither of you should stay out late today. We're expecting company today, and it won't make a good impression to be late," Momma called from downstairs.
"Yes, Momma," we both answered from our separate rooms.
I hate little time to make my vision come true, and Momma would never let me be myself. But I was used to this. I grabbed my favorite orange dress- the mid-sleeve one with large, white magnolia flowers printed on it- and orange heels. I looked good. There was no denying that if you had an open mind, at least. It was much shorter than traditional dresses and showed a little leg, but unlike most twentieth century women, I didn't feel uncomfortable in it. I then pulled my long hair into a low, sloppy braid and put in my magnolia flower earrings. I even added a little make-up because I could. I felt great, and maybe Momma wouldn't find out about my minor rebellion. A light knock sent my heart on red alert.
"Mary?" asked Cynthia before entering. "What are you wearing? Momma won't let you out of the house looking like that!"
"Of course she won't! She never does. That's why I had the neighbor's boys teach me how to climb trees. Now hand me those papers over there so I can give them to Father Matthew."
She slowly handed them to me, her eyes wide with fear and curiosity. She had always been fascinated by my unique style, but our parents had her brainwashed. I had to clear my eyes or distract her so she wouldn't know about the vision.
"Are you going to see him again?" she asked.
"That's the plan. He just doesn't know yet."
"Why not?" she asked darkly.
"I'm going to surprise him. It's none of your business anyway. I'll meet you downstairs… unless you're brave enough to really live?"
I grabbed my drawing and gently tucked them inside my sketchbook. I slowly, deliberately, walked to my always open window and sat on the ledge, prepared to jump at the slightest possibility of tattle-telling.
"Well?" I asked, both legs hanging out the window now. I debated whether or not to use the tree limb beside me.
"Mary! No, you can't! You'll hurt yourself!"
"Shhh! I'll jump if you don't hush. Listen, you go down your way- silently!- and I'll go down mine. Don't tell Momma or else, and, Cynthia, I'll know if you even hint that I climb trees." I tapped the side of my head.
She gasped but didn't have time to say anything else because I had already jumped. I landed on a lower branch-painfully, but the dress was still perfectly in tact-and easily climbed down. Of course a few people walking down the street saw me.
I hid by the side of the house in case Momma found out and waited until Cynthia came outside. It didn't take her long.
"Mary Where are you?" she whispered near the tree.
"Boo!" I screamed as I jumped into view.
"Mary, that's not nice! Why can't you be normal?"
"Because normal is so overrated," I laughed, sticking my tongue out. Then I took off running.
"Mary!"
"Come get me!"
We ran down the busy sidewalk, both of us laughing as we weaved through the crowd. Forcing to Cynthia to keep pace with me was the only way to save her from the dull, predictable life society expected from us. It was the only time we fully got along.
I turned around backwards and continued running. I could usually tell when to turn by looking at the shadows of pedestrians on the sidewalk, and from occasionally looking up at the shops I knew we were close to the music store. But how close was close?
"Mary! Slow down!" She was several people behind- I mean in front of- me. "Watch where you're going! Mary, what-!"
I fell flat on my face. I picked up my sketchbook again and got up as Cynthia rushed to my side.
"I'm sorry," I said brushing the dust off my dress. "I should have watched where I was going."
"No, no. It's my fault. One should never be in the way of a lost angel," he said.
I looked up, shocked and happy to see my victim. He was tall, dark, and handsome to pathetically sum it up. He was slightly over a head taller than me and had thick, beautiful brown hair. In the front, longer strands stuck up and swirled out over his eyes- almost poking his left eye. His eyes, a rich, creamy chocolate brown, were friendly and sexy and had my full attention. Oh, his smile! Words couldn't describe the perfection of that smile.
"Well, if you see that angel, let me know. I've always wanted to meet one. I have so many questions."
We both laughed a little until he lifted me up in a sweeping hug.
"Could you two be any more public about this?" Cynthia groaned.
Willy put me down and rolled his eyes, the gentleman, but I was honest. I stuck out my tongue and jumped up to kiss my boyfriend.
"Be nice," he teased. "One day you'll travel the world and never see your little sister again."
"It would take a miracle to get me out of here," I sighed.
A thin, frail man with silver hair walked out of the music store a few doors down, a Bible in one hand, a chorus book in the other. He gasped, sighed, and shook his head while muttering a prayer when he saw me. I was too used to this reaction to let it bother me.
"Father Matthew, Momma wanted me to give you these," I said as the three of us walked towards the priest. I handed the loose sheets to him and continued. "I hope you like them."
"I always do, child. I pray that next time I see you, you'll be properly clothed though." He pressed his thin lips together as he looked at my out-of-style ensemble. "Cynthia, dear, let us start practice."
My sister and the priest waked inside and slammed the door behind him.
"Come with me," Willy said as he pulled me across the street. A few cars stopped in front of us, honking and shouting at us, but Willy ignored them. "Run faster, Mary, before all the good trees are taken."
We ran to the city park and to our favorite tree. It wasn't the biggest one in the park, but there was one limb that stretched out in just the right spot, giving the area maximum shade. We loved to sit right there in the middle of the shade and enjoy the summer smells and occasional breeze. Willy purposely fell down there and pulled me down with him.
"You don't belong here," he began once I had time to recover from unnecessary shock. "You're so far ahead of the times. You should be in real cities with sky scrapers and flashing light and all that. When are you going to realize that?"
"Leaving takes money, and Momma and Daddy wouldn't help me out of here."
"But look at you! You're my little firecracker, and you're going to explode here. Save your sparks for people who care."
"My family will care one day."
"How do you know? How do you always know? Do you have spies everywhere? You're not a damn German, are you?" he asked, his playful smile growing wider and wider.
"Wouldn't you like to know," I laughed. "Long live Kaiser Wilhelm!"
No less than fifteen people stopped and stared at us. Their shocked, angry eyes burned my, but apologizing was never my strong point.
"Yes, I agree that's what all those barbarians will say right before the Allies destroy them!" Willy shouted so everyone could hear. The people went back to their previous activities. "Just because America's neutral doesn't mean that the people don't have an opinion!"
He was angry with me. I'd forgotten how spirited he was about the Great War. He was an active voice toward joining the Allies. I, however, couldn't care less about the war.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "You know I'm not a spy."
He kissed my hand.
"Of course you're not, but seriously, Mary, why don't you leave? You and me. You can draw and design clothes while I learn how to fly airplane. I'll take people on rides until I make enough money to buy my own airplane. Then we could fly all over the U.S. Maybe all over the world one day!"
"We could freely dance to that new jazz music all day and night!"
"Jazz? Sure. You know what? You don't make a very good Mary. You're too crazy and wild to be named after Jesus's mother. You're like a little spar destined to light a blazing fire. Have you every thought about going by your middle name, Alice? It suits you better."
"Oh no! Never. Middle names make sure there's only one of you."
"There will never be another you; trust me."
We held hands and stared up at nothing but the green leaves and the bright sunlight peaking though. Minutes, maybe hours, passed in silence. There was something on his mind, but I knew he would get to it when he was ready. It annoyed my to wait, and eventually I grew restless.
"When are you going to fly airplanes and get out of here?"
He looked over at me and smiled reluctantly.
"I've been saving up," he said proudly. "In fact, Miss, I'm going to make a major purchase later this afternoon, and I promise that in a few years we'll both be out of here forever. Never again will Mary Alice Brandon and William Jenks walk in this city."
"You sound so sure, but not even my sources can promise that. I see no change now or twenty years from now."
"Gimme your sketchbook," he ordered.
I did, and he lightly but firmly hit me in the head with it.
"Trust me this once," he said.
"I always trust you."
"So what's new in Mary's world?" he asked, obviously changing the subject and flipping through the book's pages.
Just like in my vision, he took his time examining each sketch. His eyes occasionally brightened as he looked from the drawing to me. That perfect smile spread across his face every time he pulled me closer to him.
It look him forever to look at all the pages, but at long last he dropped the book and trapped me in his loving arms. I kissed him before he had a chance to kiss me.
"I love you," he whispered in my ear.
The feeling was even better than in my vision, and my giggles became fits of happy, excited laughter.
"You know what?" I asked him as I locked my arms around his neck.
"What?"
"I love you, too."
"He held me close and began kissing me like we'd never kissed before.
"Promise me," he whispered between kisses.
"I promise. What did I just promise again?"
"Ha ha. You're going to meet me on the bench outside the church on Sunday morning."
"Willy, it's Monday! Why do you plan so far in advance?"
"No choice. A lot of my life's planned out for the next few years. Besides, I may not see you till then. Me and the boys have lots to do in a week. There's no turning back now. It's all business, love."
"What are you talking about? "I'll tell you later. "Promise?"
"'Course."
"Then let's do something crazy! Let's dance!"
I didn't give him time to answer. I was already up and twirling around him. It didn't matter to me that we had no music or that dozens of strangers were gawking at us. It was just us spinning and kicking our legs like the new jazz dancers. Though I'd only seen the new, strange, upbeat dance once, I knew just about every step.
"Lordy, Lordy! That's Mad Mary kicking up a fit, Norma! I told Harold and Violet to take care of you! Stop that ruckus and come to the house with us!" Uncle Ray called.
I froze. My body was cold in fear that someone would believe I was crazy, and my face was on fire from embarrassment. Did Uncle Ray have to shout?
"I'm coming," I sighed. "Sorry, Willy. I'll see you Sunday morning."
"That's the Lord's day, Mary!" Aunt Norma screech. "You'll not be fooling around with some boy on the Sabbath. "Fine," I said. Not around you at least!
"Be careful who you talk you, Mary," Uncle Ray said softly once Willy was out of sight. "There's been a few murders around the county, and you never know it will come your way."
"I'm safe with Willy, Uncle Ray. Come on. I bet Momma's looking out the window every few seconds looking for you two."
Chapter three: Promised to a Dead Man