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Authors: Amy Christine Parker
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plywood. I have to grip the sides to keep from falling as it bows under my weight. The ladder ends a little more than two-thirds of the way up the wall. I have to practically do a pull-up to get myself up on top of it. It takes me a few tries, but finally my feet findpurchase between the bricks and I manage to pull myself up onto my stomach so that I’m lying across the top of the wall. I feel dangerously exposed on the thin cement ledge, so I swing myself around and let my legs dangle on the other side before slowly lowering myself as far as I can before I have to let go.
“Oww!” Brian yelps as I fall into him, throwing both of us backward into the grass. Thankfully, I land on top of his solid chest and not the other way around.
Will’s already at the top of the wall. He’s got a rope in one hand, the end of which snakes back into Marie’s yard. He must have tied it to the ladder so he could drag the whole thing over the wall with us. We won’t be able to sneak back in without it.
The plywood makes a scraping noise loud enough to make all of us cringe. Will leans back and pulls faster, the noise slightly louder now. Once it’s over, we can’t help hovering by the wall, looking for lights from inside Marie’s house or from people in the yard investigating. I can hear my heart thudding in my chest.
After what feels like hours of listening so hard that my ears ring, we turn away from the wall and rush headlong into the woods. I’m grateful for the tree cover, feeling a bit calmer with every step forward. We work our way to the river. It’s not far from the development, just far enough so that we can have a little fun and not worry about being heard.
Pioneer sometimes lets the Community go there. It’sa treat he reserves for exceptionally beautiful days. We bring picnic lunches and swim. Brian’s dad put up a rope swing. Even though there’s a pool inside Mandrodage Meadows, I like swimming at the river best. The water is crisp and smells like sunshine mixed with earth. And the noise it makes as it rushes over the rocks and slaps against the riverbank relaxes me. I can feel it soothing me now. The tension of the past two days flows out of me. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed this until now.
Marie and I spread out the blanket and Will sets up the CD player. There’s only one CD in it.
“Sinatra?” Will rolls his eyes at Marie and groans.
“What? It’s romantic. And besides, be happy I smuggled any music out at all.”
All of our music is housed in the clubhouse library. Pioneer carefully selected each CD, making sure that most every style was represented. We will move all of it into th Sof arye Silo when the time comes so that we can preserve it for our children. For now, we can check it out along with the players during the day, but they have to go back each evening. I’m not sure how Marie managed to keep it for tonight—it’s nothing short of a miracle, really, but I’m glad she did. Music is a definite bonus.
Marie and I sprawl out across the blanket and stare up at the stars. Will and Brian set the player under the nearest tree and start arguing over which song to play first. “It Had to Be You” finally drifts out of the speakers and into the air.
“Dance with me,” Will says from above me. He offers me his hand and I groan.
Marie giggles. “This should be good.”
I’m a horrible dancer. It isn’t that I don’t like the music or feel the rhythm. It’s that to do it well, you have to be able to let go, get lost in the song and feel it inside you. I’m not sure I’m built to let go of anything, no matter what it is. Ever. Letting myself go is as foreign to me as thinking things through is to Marie.
Will puts one hand on the small of my back, his thumb lightly stroking my pajama top. He takes me out into the grass. The moon silvers his blond hair, making him look almost distinguished, mature. He twirls me around in a slow circle. I grip one of his hands and the opposite
“Oww!” Brian yelps as I fall into him, throwing both of us backward into the grass. Thankfully, I land on top of his solid chest and not the other way around.
Will’s already at the top of the wall. He’s got a rope in one hand, the end of which snakes back into Marie’s yard. He must have tied it to the ladder so he could drag the whole thing over the wall with us. We won’t be able to sneak back in without it.
The plywood makes a scraping noise loud enough to make all of us cringe. Will leans back and pulls faster, the noise slightly louder now. Once it’s over, we can’t help hovering by the wall, looking for lights from inside Marie’s house or from people in the yard investigating. I can hear my heart thudding in my chest.
After what feels like hours of listening so hard that my ears ring, we turn away from the wall and rush headlong into the woods. I’m grateful for the tree cover, feeling a bit calmer with every step forward. We work our way to the river. It’s not far from the development, just far enough so that we can have a little fun and not worry about being heard.
Pioneer sometimes lets the Community go there. It’sa treat he reserves for exceptionally beautiful days. We bring picnic lunches and swim. Brian’s dad put up a rope swing. Even though there’s a pool inside Mandrodage Meadows, I like swimming at the river best. The water is crisp and smells like sunshine mixed with earth. And the noise it makes as it rushes over the rocks and slaps against the riverbank relaxes me. I can feel it soothing me now. The tension of the past two days flows out of me. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed this until now.
Marie and I spread out the blanket and Will sets up the CD player. There’s only one CD in it.
“Sinatra?” Will rolls his eyes at Marie and groans.
“What? It’s romantic. And besides, be happy I smuggled any music out at all.”
All of our music is housed in the clubhouse library. Pioneer carefully selected each CD, making sure that most every style was represented. We will move all of it into th Sof arye Silo when the time comes so that we can preserve it for our children. For now, we can check it out along with the players during the day, but they have to go back each evening. I’m not sure how Marie managed to keep it for tonight—it’s nothing short of a miracle, really, but I’m glad she did. Music is a definite bonus.
Marie and I sprawl out across the blanket and stare up at the stars. Will and Brian set the player under the nearest tree and start arguing over which song to play first. “It Had to Be You” finally drifts out of the speakers and into the air.
“Dance with me,” Will says from above me. He offers me his hand and I groan.
Marie giggles. “This should be good.”
I’m a horrible dancer. It isn’t that I don’t like the music or feel the rhythm. It’s that to do it well, you have to be able to let go, get lost in the song and feel it inside you. I’m not sure I’m built to let go of anything, no matter what it is. Ever. Letting myself go is as foreign to me as thinking things through is to Marie.
Will puts one hand on the small of my back, his thumb lightly stroking my pajama top. He takes me out into the grass. The moon silvers his blond hair, making him look almost distinguished, mature. He twirls me around in a slow circle. I grip one of his hands and the opposite
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