januarie robinson
- december 22, 2018 -

"I'M GLAD YOUR HAT DIDN'T get dirty earlier," Lucas spoke as we wandered down the street, weaving through people as we went. His eyes never stayed on one object or booth for too long before bouncing to the next thing, "I saw you drop it when you bumped into me."

            I covered my face with one of my hands, "That was you? I didn't even notice. How did I miss that?"

            "Don't worry about it; bumping into me." He smiled, looking up at the lights, "If you hadn't, I never would have been able to hear you sing. You're very good by the way. I would have stopped you, but you seemed like you were in quite the hurry and I was on the lookout for my brother."

            I stopped in my tracks, a person tumbled into my back and mumbled an apology. Lucas paused and looked over his shoulder, "Your brother lives here?"

            Gesturing with his head, he continued down the path and I had to jog to catch up with his long strides, "Kind of. He's temporarily taking sanctuary in my guest room. It's close enough for my parents to see him, but not close enough for them to randomly pop in. The holidays are hitting him really hard this year," he paused, letting himself take in all the smiling faces around us.

            He took a deep breath and his lips twitched up. I couldn't blame him. It smelled like pine trees and peppermint. His smile dropped when he glanced my way. I was afraid if I spoke, he wouldn't continue with his story, "His wife passed away recently. They'd only been married two years, but they'd been together since highschool."

            "I know it doesn't mean much," I shook my head and looked up at him, "but I'm so sorry."

            His lips twitched up, "It does, thank you." He looked over my shoulder and stopped, his eyes growing wide, "Are those—" He stepped around me and up to the shack-like booth. Tables lined the booth with boxes littering the tops.

            "Advent calendars?" I asked, following him, "Yeah. They're part of the—"

            "German culture," he finished with a welcoming sigh. His hands ran against the table as he took in every handmade calendar. Made of every material, the only thing they had in common was the numbers one through twenty-four panted on the tiny doors.

            "My mom," he smiled, looking like a kid on Christmas morning, making me want to laugh, "she used to buy one every single year because it was a tradition with my grandma. She's from Germany and immigrated over here when she married my grandpa."

            Grabbing one of the smaller calendars, he walked straight up to the girl in the back of the booth. She wore her hair in long braided pigtails to match her traditional German-style dress. Her lips parted into a wide grin as she wrapped the calendar in newspaper and placed it in a brown paper bag.

            Meeting me outside the booth, he lifted the bag as if it had been a prize he'd won and not just something he'd bought.

            "Sounds like quite the story; your grandparents," I said.

            "It is really," he smiled, swinging the bag as he walked, careful not to hit anyone, "he was there as part of the war. She was actually on a date with his friend at the time and my grandpa picked them up to take her home. He didn't know that she spoke or even understood English."

            He tipped his head back and laughed, "The whole ride to her house, he sat there telling his buddy how beautiful she was. Just gushed about her. And my grandma, being the person she is, waited until she stepped out of the car to turn to him and say thank you. Granted, it was in a heavy German accent, but English all the same."

            Lucas glanced my way before moving his eyes in the opposite direction, "After she was gone, my grandpa told his buddy that he was going to marry her one day and I guess the rest is history."

            We chatted nonstop for a while about nothing in particular. He joked about his college years and told elaborate stories of his childhood and how he once ran a stop light because his brakes went out when he was sixteen. Although the conversation was nice, we still fell into a comfortable silence; too preoccupied with everything else to hold up a discussion.

            It was exciting to see him interact with the outside world. He knew at least six out of the ten people we passed. Every time his eyes focused on something new, they'd light up and these little sparks shooting off in his irises. All I wanted was to see this town with his eyes; with that new found foy of a place you'd never been before.

            My eyes trailed to a dart game we were about to pass. I looked through the prizes and they all seemed the normal kind; stuffed teddy bears and all that. However, I froze in place when I saw the otter on the top shelf. I wondered how many darts it would take for me to hit the tiny bullseye and win it.

            Lucas stopped and looked for me when he realized I was no longer by his side. I could see him searching faces in my peripheral vision. He let out a breath when he saw me.

            "What are you looking at?" He asked, stepping up beside me and raining his gaze on the different prizes as I had done.

            "There's an otter on the top shelf there and I'm just contemplating how many darts I'd probably have to buy before I'd be able to hit the bullseye and win."

            He glanced between me and the stuffed otter, his lips twitched up. The game attendant, a tall and scrawny college student, moved up to the table, "Would you guys like to buy some darts?"

            Without hesitation, Lucas fished out his wallet, "I think I'll get one."

            "You sure you only want one, Sir?" The boy placed his hand on the table and leaned forward. Gesturing with his head to the back wall painted up with a target, the center a red circle, the size of a dime, "No one's been able to hit the center all night."

            Laughing, Lucas bought the single dart for two dollars, "I figure if I hit it, great, but if I don't then it's no harm, no foul."

            The boy smiled, "Guess you couldn't look at it that way if you really wanted to."

            The kid handed Lucas the dart. He looked at me before turning back to the game attendant, "I just have to hit the middle and she can pick any prize she wants?"

            "Yes, Sir. You just have to—" The boy didn't even get to finish his sentence. Lucas barely pulled his wrist back before sending the dart flying. It hit the board with a loud smack.

            I watched the dart zip through the air and my jaw dropped when it dug into the very center; right in the middle of the bullseye. The boy behind the counter stared at the neon green end of the dart. Covering my mouth with my hands, laughter ripped up my throat.

            "I'm sorry," I spoke through a fit of giggles, "what?!"

            His gaze dropped and his face flushed, "I thought this way was better than you spending an arm and a leg to win a stuffed otter."

            "How?" I shook my head, leaning against the table and squinting to get a closer look at the dart, "How did you manage that?"

            Ignoring the question, Lucas asked for the otter on the top shelf. The boy dragged a step stool in front of the wall of prizes. He climbed up carefully and grabbed the otter. Handing it to Lucas, the boy smiled, "Honestly, that's the most impressive thing I've seen all day."

            Lucas laughed and nodded, "Thanks." He turned and pushed the otter into my arms.

            I pulled the stuffed animal to my chest, my cheeks burning, "Thank you. I've never had someone win me a stuffed animal before."

            He gestured with his head back to the path, "Come on." We walked for a while, glancing at each other as we went. Stopping next to the tree, he looked up, watching it stretch into the sky above us.

            "Why an otter?" He asked without looking at me?

            I laughed, hugging the animal, "They're my favorite. Did you know they actually hold hands while they sleep so that they don't drift away from each other?" I watched him for a minute. The way he took everything in, "I guess there's just something about that. That they hold each other, even in sleep because they don't want to lose their partner. It's sweet and caring and just, kind of, lovely."

            "I've never met anyone quite like you."

            I laughed because really neither had I; met someone like him, "I don't know what you mean."

            He smiled and turned to me, "You believe in all these things and it's amazing for someone who has seen the world be so incredibly cruel and ugly. Then I met you. And, you see nothing but beautiful things."

            My eyes grew wide and I looked away from him, "There are plenty of ugly and cruel things in the world that I've seen. Things that are far from fair. Things that make no sense to me." I turned back to him and sent him a smile, "But, if that's all you choose to see, that is all the world will ever be and it's so much more than that."

            His eyes wandered over the people and the shops and the square as if he was searching for something, but I couldn't tell what. Maybe it was for something beautiful, but how could he not see that beauty was all around us. Just waiting to be seen and picked up on. The lights blinked like stars you could touch and laughter, literally, filled the air.

            The smile on my face widened and before I could talk myself out of it or change my mind, I reached out and grabbed his hands, "There's something I want to show you."

            I turned and pulled him behind me. To my surprise, he didn't drop my hand, but instead let me drag him through the crowd of people. We moved back the way we came before stopping outside Corner Store Book and its painted window.

            A dim light flooded the street, but it was clear that the place was empty. I dropped Lucas' hand, letting a strange feeling fill my stomach and I couldn't help but notice how cold my hand got. Ignoring the things going through my head at the moment about Lucas and how good it felt to hold his hand in mine, I rummaged through my purse. In its depth, I pulled out a set of keys.

            Opening the door to the bookstore, I grabbed his hand again and yanked him into the building with me and locked the door behind us. It smelled like coffee. He breathed in a sigh with me. His eyes wandered over the spines and shelves filled with books. He tightened the hold on my and, sending an entire zoo through my body.

            "Should we even be in here?" He asked, turning and giving me a curious look.

            "Why?" I laughed and gave him a look, "Are you thinking of stealing something?"

            He shook his head a little too quickly, "No."

            I smiled and pulled him through the stacks of books, "Then follow me because this isn't even the best part." I pushed back the red curtain that led to the backroom. With one sharp turn, I drug him up the stairs and through the door that led to the roof.

            Wind nipped at my nose and ears, but there was nowhere on earth I'd rather be in that moment. The roof had a table set up with chairs by a door that went to an apartment above the shop that I rented with a friend. However, towards the lip was a wooden bench and that's where I took him. From there we had a bird's eye view of Main Street and the entire winter festival. I could see Elena and Victoria sitting at the sunshine booth with smiles on their faces.

            "This is stunning," he spoke, taking a seat next to me.

            Sighing, I planted my chin in my hands and looked out over the town, "Yeah, I always come up here when I need to escape and think." We sat in silence for a moment, listening to everything happening below.

            "So," I faced him, "how did you do it? Hm? How did you hit the bullseye so easily?"

            He shrugged his shoulders, "It's a bar game and although small, this is a college town." I waited for him to explain because frankly I didn't see the connection, "When I first moved here the only person I knew was Richard and he wasn't here that often. I had to find a way to kill time when I wasn't working. So, I went to the little bar across from the market, the one with the potion bottle on the sign, and shot darts and played pool. I was on their teams for a while even."

            "Do you still play?"

            "Not as much, no." he smiled. That kind of smile you have when looking back on something, "I read more now. I don't force myself out as much as I used to, plus I'm no longer twenty. Hangovers are a killer now."

            "Yeah, see, I don't have that problem," I smiled.

            He laughed, "Not yet. Just wait. It'll catch up with you one day, trust me." He paused, "When did you start singing? You have a beautiful voice."

            "Years ago." I waved off the compliment, "I took lessons when I was a kid and then when I went into highschool, I joined the choir program and did the musicals every year. That's actually how I met Elena. She's so talented, but now she's sick and stuck in this deadbeat town."

            A silence stretched between us and I could feel the air getting thick, "I'm sorry by the way."

            "For what?"

            I chuckled, "For yelling at your last week," I looked out, "You were just trying to help and I took all my anger out on you. It wasn't fair. I was mad about Elena being sick and seeing my step dad out of nowhere. You were being kind and I punished you for it. I'm really sorry, Lucas."

            "It's water under the bridge." He placed his hand next to mine on the bench, our pinkies finding each other and slowly entwining, "I know what it's like to be that angry. To be so angry at the whole world, but I think in some ways you are better than I was. I let it turn me cold, but you... You're still warm and that's better."

            "Lucas—"

            He turned to look at me, "Yeah?"

            Shaking my head, I smiled, "Nothing. Sorry."

            "Januarie—"

            I turned to look at him, "Yeah?"

            His eyes bounced around my face, "Nothing. Sorry."