The Nights Were Young Read online

  “We didn’t have sex,” Marie groaned.

  Kate mocked her in a high pitch. “We didn’t have sex.”

  Travis jaunted down the stairs carrying something Marie immediately wished he had not found. It was her guitar.

  “Travis! Put that back in my room!” she demanded.

  “Look what I got,” he announced.

  “Can you play?” Kate said.

  “Yeah and Marie can sing,” Travis said cheerfully.

  “No I can’t,” Marie said fast. “Trust me I --”

  “Yes you can,” Kate said, pushing her off the couch.

  Marie staggered to Travis and leaned against him.

  The rain was heavy outside. Lightning flashed again and the thunder groaned after it.

  “You have to sing for us,” Kate demanded.

  Travis started playing chords, swinging blues chords. He played them well, and it surprised Marie. A twinge of excitement caught her and began to override her embarrassment and lit her up.

  “Ooooo, you’re good Travis,” Kate said.

  He strummed harder, bobbing his head and whipping down on the strings. Marie could not help but start to sway. He smiled at her.

  “Come on baby sing!” he howled.

  He called her baby, and that was the end of her fight against it.

  Oh baby! You just can’t love me no more!

  Marie belted out the words. Kate howled. Even Joey was up and smiling. He danced his own awkward dance next to Kate. Travis strummed wildly, and Marie kept whaling.

  I want you, but you just can’t love me no more!

  You’ll never find a home, you’ve always gotta go!

  And baby I can’t take anymore!

  She stopped and covered her blushing face. Travis stopped and wrapped his arms around her.

  “That was great, pretty girl,” he said.

  Kate and Joey were clapping.

  Marie kissed him, and she took the guitar from him. “Go sit.”

  “Oh what’s this?” Kate asked.

  “I’m going to play a song,” Marie said.

  They sat on the couch.

  “This is gonna be good,” Kate said. “This is gonna be really good. I can tell.”

  “I’ve never played in front of anyone before,” Marie said. “Not even my parents. So if you laugh –”

  “Just play, damn it,” Kate insisted.

  Marie strummed the first chord. She cleared her throat.

  “Come on, pretty girl,” Travis said.

  She looked up and smiled nervously, feeling like she was about to plunge off a cliff. For a moment she looked out the window, through the rain and into the dark distance. She sang shakily…

  If I could be…

  She stopped. She looked up, terrified in front of the other three. Kate and Joey looked back eagerly. Travis looked at her calmly, staring intently into her eyes. He nodded his head.

  “Keep going,” Travis said softly. “Keep playing, Marie.”

  She looked down and took a deep breath. Then she played the chords, lulling, easy moving notes that drifted along like a breeze, and she sang:

  With you

  Baby I would be

  You could be my anything

  And I would be your everything

  Just come back around

  I still see your face

  I still see your face

  On his and on his

  We can have another chance

  Just come back around

  She looked at Travis, playing for him, singing for him. He was the only one there.

  Please say you’re not

  Not too far gone

  Please say I can see you again

  Be with you again

  Just come back around

  She played the last chords and they faded into the room. There was quiet and the heavy rain outside. Joey’s mouth was open, Kate’s eyes were flooded, and Travis… She could see it in his face; he saw something in her that saved him, or at least made him feel something so deeply that he couldn’t hide it, for she’d never seen his eyes look at her, or at anything, in that way before.

  She put the guitar down and walked away, past the sliding doors and to the balcony. She heard Kate say, “That was beautiful,” when she walked outside.

  The wind blew softly in the rain. The night ceaselessly carried forward, and it would never return to where it had been. Marie leaned against the wall out of the way of the falling rain. She could see out over the lake and across the houses of Crossfalls Estates, and somewhere out there was the horizon and everything beyond it. She was shaking from the left-over nerves.

  “Hey.”

  It was Travis. He came out onto the balcony, stood next to her and looked out over the water.

  “That was amazing,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Where’d you learn how to play blues?”

  “It’s what I’ve always played,” she said. “My dad bought me a beginner guitar player’s book when I was twelve, and at the back of the book it had some blues chords, and those were my favorite.”

  “What was that one song about?” he asked. “The come back around one?”

  “I really don’t know,” she said. “I made it up a while ago after I watched this movie. I can’t even remember the name of it. This woman left a man, and he spent a long time after it just… begging her to back to him. And so I wrote about it, about that loss, and I knew what it was about, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt what it’s about. Not till now. I mean I can kinda feel it now.” She shrugged. “Does that make sense?”

  He laughed. “Your song is about love.” He put his hands on the railing of the balcony and was hesitant when he spoke. “Are you – in love?”

  Marie spoke quietly. “Are you?”

  He faced her, then leaned forward and kissed her.

  “You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever known,” he said softly.

  He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers. She could feel his breath. She touched his hands, and she felt… afraid. He was something she wanted, but he was an escape. She belonged to a different world, one that would never allow him. What was she doing?

  He kissed her. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course you can,” she whispered.

  “You know, maybe I’m just drunk… maybe I shouldn’t even say anything.”

  She grabbed his arm and pulled his body closer. “Just tell me, Travis.”

  He gulped, and she could hear the hesitance in his voice as he spoke. “Marie, you… you know me better than anyone in my entire life has ever known me. Shit, you’ve seen where I live, and I never let anyone see that.”

  “I know, Travis.” She put her hand behind his head, her fingers in his hair. She could feel his hands around her, resting on her back just above her hips.

  “I’m messed up,” he said.

  She looked up at him. “You’re not messed up, Travis. You’re fine.”

  He smiled and laughed. “No, pretty girl. I’m messed up. Everything in my life is kind of messed up… except you. That’s why I lo --”

  He stopped himself and choked back his words, afraid of them.

  “You’re the only person in my world that makes me feel okay,” he said. “That makes me feel like… like there’s something different out there… something better.”

  “I’m not that great,” Marie said.

  “Yes you are. Trust me, you are… for me, you are. And hell, maybe we’re both messed up. I mean… I can tell you aren’t happy here, where you are.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I feel…”

  “Out of place?” he answered.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He laughed softly. “We’re out of place together, Marie, and that’s why I… that’s why you mean so much to me. I think you might be my best friend. It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

  She didn’t know what to say, or even what she was feeling. Everything she felt pulled her closer to him, bu
t everything she felt obligated to pulled her away. “It’s not stupid,” she said softly. “It’s not.”

  They stood silently, holding one another against the rain that was only growing stronger.

  “Be my girl, Marie,” he whispered.

  He kissed her.

  “Be my girl.”

  For that moment, she let go and forgot that there was no sense in what they were and kissed him back, and held him tighter to her. The future would come later, but not then. For that moment, she had Travis.

  The lights in the house had gone off, and the others were asleep.

  Travis held onto Marie as they lied down in her bed. His body was over hers, her skin under his, and their souls entwined. They moved forward, further and further, onward into that good night from which no one can ever return, and outside rain kept falling.

  XVI

  Twenty-five year old Marie exhaled the last bit of smoke from her stolen cigarette. Around the side of the house, in the dark, she could see clearly out into the starlit country. It was quiet. She heard talking from inside the house. James was probably taking shots with some of his work friends. Her mother was probably mingling, acting happy. Her father was probably zoned out like he always was, lacking the social skills that he sacrificed for years and years of endless business calls. She was certain the party was dragging on without her, and for a moment she considered leaving – she would start walking, maybe running, running away from the house and running more until she couldn’t go further. She was tired, though, and drunk. She could barely stand without leaning, so there would be no running, no leaving.

  The night, like all the other nights in her present life, was old – ready to die.

  Strangers gave puzzled expressions when she emerged back onto the porch. They were talking, and then they paused to whisper when she passed by, clumsily, to the back door.

  Inside, it was not any better: conversations hushed and people stared. It was as if she was a ghost traveling through the room. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed her cellphone off the counter. There were no missed calls, no messages. She stumbled away and into the living room. Her mother grabbed her by the arm before she made it too far.

  “You’re coming with me,” her mother whispered.

  She dragged Marie with an iron grip to her and James’s bedroom. She closed the door behind them and forced Marie to sit on the bed. Marie’s cellphone fell out of her hand and landed next to her on the bed.

  “Ugh! You smell like smoke,” her mother cried.

  “Mom, leave me alone,” Marie groaned as she leaned forward and laid her head in her hands.

  “Oh I’m going to leave you alone,” her mother said. “Everyone is going to leave you alone, and you’re going to leave everyone else alone. You’re staying in here the rest of the night, and I’m going to tell everyone else you simply got sick.”

  Marie stayed quiet. That was no lie. She felt sick, and collapsing into the bed for the rest of the night was appealing.

  “You think they’ll really believe that?” Marie asked. “They’ve been watching me all damn night, Mother. They know.”

  “Why are you like this?” her mother asked. There was a bizarre expression on her face that Marie could barely make clear in her double vision. It was anger, and fear. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve never acted like this.”

  Marie stared blankly at her before she let her head fall back in her hands.

  Her mother knelt in front of her and begged her, “Please, Marie. I know I spoke out of anger earlier, but you need to get yourself together.” She paused. “What happened tonight? Did – did James do something?”

  Marie rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.” She lay down on the bed and looked forward at nothing. “He’s perfect for me, remember? You’ve always thought he was perfect for me.”

  “Isn’t he though?”

  “Remember when I first left for college? All I ever heard you say was how great it was going to be when I graduated and got a career and made something of myself. It’s like you completely forgot about me having to marry someone.”

  “Marie, why are you thinking about this?”

  Marie ignored her. “And I even had a job, and I was making my own money.”

  “As a receptionist? That worthless job? For that worthless car?” Her mother waved her hands when she spoke, as if she could cast away the memories she didn’t want.

  Marie still ignored her. “Then you met James. I brought him home that weekend remember? All of sudden, all I ever heard you say was how great it was going to be when I was James’s wife. I’d be taken care of… forever.”

  “And is it not great? Has he not taken care of you? Look around you, you spoiled little girl,” her mother scolded, gesturing her hands up and down again. “He’s given you everything you’ve wanted.”

  “He’s given me everything he wanted, Mom… everything you wanted.”

  “Then what can we give you, Marie? What will make you happy?”

  Marie shook her head. Her face scrunched and her eyes watered. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “What was that, Marie Wrangler?”

  “I don’t know!” she cried.

  Her mother covered her mouth. “People can hear you.” Her mother whispered harshly.

  “I don’t care,” Marie said, muffled by her mother’s hand.

  “I don’t get it,” her mother sighed. She sat on the bed next to her. “You’ve always seemed fine, happy.”

  Marie let out a hopeless laugh. “I haven’t been happy since high school, Mother.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Marie laughed louder. “Oh it’s very true! I went off to college and I didn’t have one single friend. I couldn’t get anybody to like me, and I felt… I felt… so fucking different than everyone there!”

  “Marie Wrangler!”

  “It’s true! I didn’t fit in, Mom. I tried playing on stage once, playing my guitar, at one of the coffee shops.”

  Her mother paused. “I never knew that.”

  “Because I never told you. I was so nervous that I started crying before I played the first note.” Marie suddenly laughed. “And that was all I ever tried – because I was too scared to chase that stupid little dream.”

  “Well,” her mother said. “You weren’t ever getting a career in music anyway.”

  “That’s what James says. I was just a stupid girl then, a stupid, lonely girl, so I dyed my hair and started wearing contacts. It wasn’t long before James noticed me… and the rest was set. I haven’t been happy, Mom. I just fake it really well.” She looked into her mother’s eyes. She spoke lowly, seriously. “I learned it from you.”

  Her mother sat frozen, and a tear fell from her eye and down her cheek. She was shaking. “Just stay in here and don’t come back out.” And then she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  Marie was still, numb and still. She could hear the voices of the party outside the bedroom. She could see the pictures of her and James in the dim light from the lamp on the nightstand. The bottle of whiskey was still tucked away in her closet, but she did not care for it anymore. It was too much to get back on her feet to retrieve it.

  Her cellphone rang. Marie thought nothing of it at first, but when it rang a second time she remembered who it would be. Her arm jolted around her and snatched up the phone.

  “Hello? Hello?”

  “Marie, it’s me, Kate.”

  “I know,” Marie answered groggily. “This was some kind of sick joke, right?”

  “Marie, please. It’s --”

  “No,” Marie interrupted. “This is some joke to get back at me for not hanging out with you anymore, right?” Marie did not realize she was screaming so loud. “Well it worked, okay. I’m… I’m…” Her head spun and she fell back down on the bed. She made sure to keep the phone to her ear. “It’s not true,” she whispered.

  “Marie, I’m sorry but it is.” Kate’s voice was shaky and quiet. In a moment
of pause, Marie’s chest started to ache. Her face scrunched and she could feel her breath leave her.

  “He’s gone, Marie.”

  A sudden burst of a cry let out of Marie. She rolled onto her other side and curled up, and she covered her face, and tears poured out in a powerful stream before she forced herself to stop. She sat back up. She wiped her eyes. She took in a breath as deep down as she could bring it. She held it. She let it out.

  “He’s gone?” Marie breathed into the phone.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Kate said.

  “Well what happened?” Marie asked. “Did he drink himself to death?”

  “That’s not fair,” Kate said quickly, angrily. “You haven’t spoken to him in years.”

  Marie laughed. “Nothing’s fair, Kate.”

  They paused. Marie clutched at her sick stomach. The voices of the party broke the silence in the bedroom.

  “How did it happen?” Marie asked.

  “He --”

  “Don’t! Don’t tell me.” Marie closed her eyes. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  Silence.

  “The funeral is Sunday morning,” Kate said.

  Marie opened her eyes and stood out of bed. “Are you kidding me? Sunday morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s being buried in two days?” Marie’s voice was shaking violently.

  “He died a week ago.”

  Marie fell to her knees on the unforgiving, wooden floor, but she didn’t feel the pain. Her breathing was out of control, too fast, too shallow. “And you’re… just now…. calling me?”

  “It took me this long to figure out where you were. It’s been seven years, Marie. At least I called you. I didn’t have to.”

  Marie lowered her head into her hands. “Tell me it’s a joke,” she cried softly. “Kate, you tell me he’s still around.”

  Kate did not respond.

  “Please tell me he’s alive!”

  Silence.

  “The funeral is at Crossfalls Baptist Church, nine o’ clock,” Kate said.

  Marie waited. Maybe she would say what she wanted to hear. The words never came.

  “Marie?” Kate said, but Marie was gone.

  Marie threw the phone violently - it sailed into the wall and broke into pieces. Sobs were bursting out of her and she fought them back until she could stand up calmly. There was a chance to not completely ruin the night left in the closet, the bottle of whiskey. Marie raced to it and sipped, but after one sip she dropped it on the carpet. She was too sick for more.