Page 40
Story: Heaven (Casteel 1)
"Thanks for giving me the lessons," murmured Logan, looking dazed and terribly exhausted. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going into the school and wash up. If I went home looking like this, my mom would faint." He smiled my way. "Heaven, hang around, will you, until I'm back?"
"Sure." I stared at all his bruises, and his black eye. "Thanks for defending my honor . . ."
"Why, he defended all our honors, dummy!" shrieked Fanny. Then, so help me, she ran to throw her arms about Logan and kissed him squarely on his swollen, bleeding lips.
I should have
done that.
Logan walked off toward the school as Tom grabbed Fanny's arm, called Our Jane and Keith, and all of them headed for our trail. All alone in the schoolyard I waited for Logan to come out of the boys' rest room.
On the swing Our Jane had used I shoved myself higher and higher, hanging back and dangling so my hair would fan and almost sweep the ground. I hadn't felt so happy since before Granny died. I closed my eyes and flew ever higher on the swing.
"Hey . . . you up there in the sky, come on down so I can walk you home before dark, and we can talk."
Logan looked somewhat cleaner, somewhat less damaged, as I dragged my feet and brought the swing to a stop. "You're not really hurt, are you?" I asked with concern.
"No, not really hurt." His one eye peered at me. "Do you really care if I am?"
"Of course I care."
"Why?"
"Well . . . I don't know why, except, well, you did call me your girl. Am I your girl, Logan?"
"If I said so, then you must be. Unless you have some objections."
I was up now, and he had my hand, gently urging me toward the mountain trail that spiraled steeply up, up, up.
Winnerrow had only one main street, and all the others branched off from that. Even placed in the middle of town, the school backed up to the mountain range. There wasn't any way the town could escape the surrounding Willies. "You haven't answered," urged Logan when we'd strolled on for fifteen minutes without speaking, only holding hands and glancing often at one another.
"Where'd you go last weekend?"
"My parents wanted to see the college where I'll be going. I wanted to call and tell you, but you have no telephone, and I didn't have time to walk to your place."
There it was again. His parents didn't want him to see me, or he could have found time. I turned and put my arms about his waist and pressed my forehead against his dirty torn shirt. "I'm thrilled to be your girl, but I've got to warn you now, I don't intend to get married until I've had the chance to live and grow on my own, and to become somebody. I want my name to mean something after I'm dead."
"Looking for immortality?" he teased, holding me closer and bowing his face into my hair.
"Something like that. You see, Logan, a psychiatrist came to our class one day and he said there are three kinds of people. One, those who serve others. Two, those who give to the world by
producing those who serve others. Three, the last kind, those who can't be satisfied unless they achieve on their own, not by serving others but by their own merits and talents, producing, arid not through their children, either. I'm the third kind. There's a niche in this world meant for me and what innate talents I have . . . and I won't find it if I marry young."
He cleared his throat. "Heaven, aren't you getting way ahead of this situation? I'm not asking you to be my wife, just my girl."
I drew sharply away. "Then you don't really want to marry me someday?"
His hand spread helplessly. "Heaven, can we predict the future and who we'll want when we're twenty, twenty-five, or thirty? Take what I offer now, and let the future take care of itself."
"What are you offering now?" I asked suspiciously.
"Just me, my friendship. Just me, and the nowand-then right to kiss you, hold your hand, touch your hair, and take you to the movies, and listen to your dreams because you listen to mine, and be silly once in a while, build a past we'll enjoy remembering-- that's all." That was enough.
Hand in hand we continued to stroll, and it was sweet to reach the cabin near twilight that flattered the tiny house nestled on the hillside. He had only one good eye anyway, and I knew he couldn't truly see the shoddiness of how we lived until he went inside.
I turned and cupped his face between my palms. "Logan, would it be all right, and not too much like Fanny, if I kissed you just once for being so exactly what I want?"
"I think I could bear up."
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40 (Reading here)
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131