Page 22 of The Marigold Trail

“ S o he’s really not into Corky?” Diana says. We sit outside of her home in her little red sports car while I give a retelling of my time with her brother, specifically his explanation of why he kept the concert with Corky a secret from Bennette.

“Based on his reaction, I don’t think he’s into either of them. He seems apathetic to all of it.” I lay my arms out across the dashboard as if I were in a deliberation room, letting my arms emphasize the reasons for Ben’s actions. “He even admitted to choosing music over his girlfriend and said Bennette hates Genesis but would have wanted to join them if she knew they were going. Sounds like she’s already gotten upset with Ben for listening to music with Corky in her car.” I give a final shrug. “He basically said she’d ruin the whole night for them if she came,” I explain.

A group of kids playing night games kick a ball back and forth over the next door neighbor's roof, like a game of ping-pong. The little runners and squealers look like they’re in middle school, about Davy and Steven’s age and before we know it, large scale ping-pong turns into a game of redrover. I ask Diana how late they’ll be out. It’s nearing midnight and there’s at least a gang of twenty preteens running around in the dark.

“They’ll turn in around twelve.” She tells me about the neighbor lady who comes out with a ladle and whips it around with a warning if they stay out past that time.

“Did Tyler ever come back?” I ask.

“No, I haven’t heard from him, that hoser,” she says, fanning her long painted fingers across the wheel. “Evan came back for a second to grab something. He said to tell you he had to leave for a family emergency.”

“Oh. I hope everything’s okay,” I say.

“You missed all the good action though. Right after I confronted Ben, some guy named Tony came over and asked Ben and Corky how they liked the concert. He’d made the trip to Kansas City and saw them there as well. They both looked so exposed. He would’ve exposed them even if I hadn’t.” She yanks the keys out of the car letting the engine exhale one last growl. “Bennette let Corky have it. She’s such a small, tiny thing but it looked like she could’ve done some damage to Corky the way she was standing. I felt like we were at a boxing weigh-in watching an intense staredown.”

“And she didn’t freak out on Ben? He acted like they were over,” I say.

“Oh no. She did. She wasn’t able to say anything for a while but then she pulled Ben into the corner and kept repeating something like ‘Why would you keep a secret like that from me?’”

“And what did he say?”

“He didn’t have much of an answer. I think he tried saying Corky and him are just friends and have nothing in common except for liking Genesis. She kept asking questions about the ride to Kansas City and saying they must have quite a lot in common to enjoy a car ride together. He was calm until he told her she’d ruin the whole experience, and I think she dumped him right after that. It was kind of painful to watch.”

Car headlights beam across the house as the outline of a car appears behind us. Diana and I watch the light around us go dark and the door slam shut at the front of the house.

“Ben must be home,” Diana says as we throw our bags over our shoulders and head on into the house.

It’s late, nearly three o’clock in the morning, but we’re still wiry and flipping through magazines while giggling about a time Diana helped me attempt pole vault—her all-time favorite sport. It was my first time hearing this rendition of me clinging to the pole, like a koala clinging onto a bamboo branch as it breaks off and falls to the ground. Apparently, I made it into the air but instead of pushing past the bar, I held on as it fell back the way it came. Non-80s-Land-Atta would never actually attempt pole vault, but Diana’s alternate universe memory made me laugh.

At the sound of knocking on Diana’s door we pop straight up in her bed. I close the magazine pages that hold the stolen manila folder of newspaper clippings that I’m trying to secretly sort through under the covers.

“Come in,” Diana says, frustrated at the late night interruption.

Ben bursts through the door, his late night sweat catching the dim light of the room. His dark eyes burn with intensity as he lands at the foot of Diana’s bed, leaning forward, unknowingly exposing his wide shoulders and bare chest, without warning. It had been years since I’d seen him in just pajama bottoms. He takes a quick glance in my direction, acknowledging my presence and then averts his gaze quickly, turning back to face his sister.

“I heard you kissed Tyler tonight. What were you thinking?” he says with a gust of interrogation-style energy. Intensity flares inside of him so thick it causes me to have temporary confusion between this universe and the next. It’s as if my partner Agent Brown is back and Diana is his next suspect in the interrogation room. They become quiet for a moment but I can sense the frustration bubbling inside of Ben. He lets out a few breaths to calm himself but his disapproving eyes give away the fact that he’s still steadily troubled.

“I kissed him?” Diana rakes her long fingers through her hair, tying a night scarf around it so it isn’t disfigured in her sleep. “We…it was an accident, Ben. Why do you even care? Isn’t he one of your good friends anyway?” she asks, securing the scarf into place.

“So you didn’t kiss him? Then why did Evan tell me you did?”

“We accidentally touched lips when your dumb self couldn’t figure out that he’d left his fingerprints on your back pockets.”

“So that’s all it was? An accident? Just promise me you won’t go with him.” He grips his hands around the bed frame.

“I can’t promise you a thing,” Diana sprays dismissal in his face.

“I know him pretty well, Di. He’s not good for you.”

“Says the one who lost his girlfriend and ruined her relationship with her best friend tonight.” Ben leans backward, his hands still gripping the metal frame.

“You’re the one who ruined that tonight. The rest of us were keeping things hush-hush to avoid all this.” He flings his hands up, like they can encompass the entire debacle. He lowers his hands and takes a slow breath. “Don’t be surprised if he isn't the committed type,” he adds, craning his neck in a casual stretch. He obviously intends to drop the topic and pick back up the one he barged in about.

“Just like you?” she says, pressing him hard. Anger seeps through her tone. I hadn’t realized how disappointed Diana was in her brother for keeping this little secret from his girlfriend and from her. Ben holds back his response and by the look on his face I can tell it’s because of my presence.

“Think what you want, Diana,” he says, swallowing Diana’s jab. “Oh and I’d like my Genesis tape back, little sis.” He motions for her to cough it up, lingering by the doorway in his pajama bottoms—a few inches too short for him.

Diana leans over the side of the bed and retrieves the plastic cassette tape from her purse that’s lying on the carpet next to her nightstand. Before she has a chance to sit back up, Ben swoops in and snatches it from her and then paces back to the door.

“Oh and Atta, if you ever need to take any of my things from my room, make sure to be more discreet. Your infatuation is sweet, but I don’t want to have to hunt you down to collect my things anymore than you want me finding out that you took them,” he says in a playfully dark tone.

The smoothness. He managed to get the last word in and own it well. But the exchange causes my fighting spirit to kick in. I shake off what’s left of the blankets covering me and stand on the bed just as he shuts the door to leave the room.

“What are you doing?” Diana prods. I might’ve looked guilty had I not been so determined to follow after him and take back my dignity. “He teases you all the time. Don’t tell me you’re going after him,” Diana says, flailing her arms in protest as I hop off the bed and grab the doorknob.

“We just cleared the air at the party, and he’s still accusing me of quote, unquote, ‘obsessing over him,’” I say before twisting the knob.

“Are you really surprised? He’s always talking down to us,” Diana says. “Do you really care enough to chase after him?”

I shrug in defeat and open the door. She looks frozen in thought, rolled up in the bedding like an uneven cinnamon roll.

I tiptoe after him, my cold feet—half covered with Diana’s baggy Fruit of the Loom sweatpants—gently grinding against the hallway floor. I’m as comfortable as it gets in the oversized tee Diana lent me for the night. It says “To Cause Trouble” with some cat friends holding a match, a jug of gasoline, and an overall group identity that bleeds pure mischief. And at this moment I carry the same energy as the characters on the rebel tee cascading off my shoulders.

I try to keep my steps soft to avoid waking Mama Robyn and Grandma Harriet. Even so, Ben hears me coming and abruptly stops and turns, right in front of the open doorframe to his room.

“What are you doing, Atta?” he asks softly, his voice deep and low as if exhaustion has taken over.

“I’m not letting you leave like that,” I say. I hear the late night fatigue talking for me. Do I do things late at night that I would easily rationalize myself out of during the day time? Yes. Yes, I do. But he can’t leave accusing me of obsessing over him like that. It’ll eat at me, sleeping in the same house as him tonight.

“Like what?” His fake show of teasing has worn off and I can see his genuine confusion and beaten temperament sag through. Our relationship was composed of that brotherly annoyance and I knew I shouldn’t be calling him out like this. I’m making too big of a deal about it, but it feels good, so I continue.

“You know I’m not obsessed with you, right?” I hurl the words at him. “And if I hadn’t carried out that strategy, I would be absolutely clueless right now, so what looks like obsession to you is actually just determination to get my questions answered.”

“Really? You got all your questions answered? That’s great, Atta. Really great. All it took was some determination?” He looks tired. The night is fanning the flames for unfiltered thoughts and expressions.

“Yeah I guess,” I say. I’m not sure where he’s trying to go with this. I just need him to know it wasn’t out of obsession.

“And you found out everything you ever wanted to know?” he asks. The smug lip bite is back again. This time with a fraction of the energy.

“Well no,” I say.

“And I bet you have a million other questions and that’s why you’re following me back to my room?”

“Just take me seriously for two seconds, would you?” I just want to continue with our honest conversation earlier, minus the lip.

“Why do you need to know everything?” he asks, as if he’s looking for a deeper meaning behind my actions.

I don’t know how to respond, so I leave him hanging.

“Not all of us need to know everything, Atta. Some of us let things work themselves out on their own,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. His abs are ever so present. It’s hard to keep my eyes on just his face. “You want a mystery to solve, I’ll give you one. Why my sister would want anything to do with my psycho friend is a huge mystery to me. Keep an eye on Tyler and my sister for me, would you?”

I understand his concern, but unlike him I’ve seen this play out before and know it’s harmless. That was the great thing about knowing the future.

“I can do that if you honestly answer me one more question. Will you?” I say hoping he’ll be upfront with me. “Why’d you quit basketball around the same time you and Corky went to the concert? You’re obviously still friends with the players and I’ve heard you’re good enough to play college ball.”

I remember him playing basketball all through high school. He quit his senior year after his dad passed away. He didn’t even start the season. But that wasn’t the situation in this universe. His grandfather—father in this universe—wasn’t an NBA player and had been gone for over a year now, so that wouldn’t be the reason. Plus the rumors were that Ben quit in the middle of the season this time. So what was it?

Ben just looks at me, staring into the depths of my being, as if trying to assess whether he truly trusts me or not.

“There’s only one other person in my life who asks as many questions as you do,” he says, slighting my offer but his response surprises me, shifting my thought process entirely.

“And who’s that?” I press him.

“Again with the questions,” he scoffs.

“You leave everything open-ended. They’re questions begging to be asked,” I say as he stands there quietly contemplating his next words.

“Someone I look up to. He’s someone who’s done the biggest favor for me in my life. He’s been pestering me with questions and only recently have I realized I need him,” he says and it’s clear that’s all he’s willing to give me. He’s entrusted me with a line of vulnerability and he’s hesitant to say more.

“We all need a person like that in our lives,” I say. It seems like an appropriate response.

Instead of responding, he steps a foot closer to me so that we’re standing just inches apart. I can feel his body heat rise against me. I see the rise and fall of his chest. I have the urge to flee the scene as I become nervous about his close proximity.

It seems purposeful.

His hand reaches for my face and to my surprise he tucks a loose feathery strand of hair behind my ear, then brushes his hands around the back of my neck in one steady motion, making butterflies erupt in my stomach.

What is this? He looks as if he’s going to kiss me while I stand frozen, wide-eyed in anticipation.

I watch his movements closely, unable to decipher what he’s going to do next. Will his warmness turn cold at the drop of a hat? He nearly brushes his lips against my cheek, on the same side he’d tucked my hair behind my ear and whispers, “You’re right. Goodnight, detective.”

He pulls back and shuts his door, leaving me ineffective and unable to say anything. He’s just played me and I find myself wanting more than I ever have from him.

I remember. This is how it felt to have Ben Brown mess with your heart a little. He’s left me mystified, alone in the hallway, and I feel disoriented hashing out whether he meant anything by that as I dust my feet slowly against the floor on the carpeted trail back to Diana’s room.

Diana lays peacefully asleep with both arms raised above her head. If it weren’t for her bold moves tonight I might not have gotten this far with Ben. Somehow, someway, he let me in just a little, but it felt like we’d made massive waves of progress. It was a huge step forward even if it was dipped in a thin layer of resentment. I feel lucky to have her in my life as I climb over her sleeping body and burrow into my little cove of blankets next to her.