nuagederose

[nuagederose]

got all my art and writings saved on my thumb drive, got all my hellofresh recipe cards in a stack on my couch, any culinary notes I wrote saved either in my notes app or in one of my recipe notebooks.

my ao3 is josiebelladonna. my instagram and threads are badmotorartist: I don’t use threads much but I am there. no idea if I wanna join bluesky because my whole mindset since about 2022 is “I’m not joining any more sites” but I also wonder about posting my baking and cooking in other places, though. same with my art and writing.

[nuagederose]

mermay wips~ 🧜🏻‍♀️

[nuagederose]

today, I am the fool for #laughlines2025 🌻🙃

-me & alex 🫣 -“Rob, could you not look at me in the eyes when you say that?” -elaine 🍲 -“it’s quite nice, would you like to smell it?” (or rather: the moment before “SMELL MY CHEESE!!!”) -pumpkin dwight -chibi-thrax! -and Chris Farley & David Spade (cannot for the life of me remember the sketch, but I remember Dave posting about it years ago and I had to draw it), from Chinese New Year 2018

[nuagederose]

the intersection of geology, geography, history, astronomy, and mythology, this is my new spin on this year’s mermay coming as an homage to the world of art nouveau 🧜🏻‍♀️🫧🪸

I honestly didn’t think i’d be able to do it this year (and for reasons I’d rather not say, either), but when I began looking at prompts of years past, I started thinking again. next thing I knew, I start writing them down.

I’m announcing it now because these are quite complex the more I think about it. you can do one of these, you can do just the flowers or the stones or the spacey ones or the historical ones, in any media you so wish, do whatever you please! don’t forget to tag me, either 🧜🏻‍♀️

May 1: Rose  May 2: Athena May 3: Mekong River  May 4: Big Dipper  May 5: Tierra del Fuego  May 6: Snowflake Obsidian  May 7: Lilies  May 8: Victorian England  May 9: Great Barrier Reef  May 10: Orion’s Belt  May 11: Carnation  May 12: Crystal Skull May 13: Gas Giants  May 14: Bollywood  May 15: Ancient Egypt  May 16: Sunflower  May 17: Pomona May 18: Bathurst Island  May 19: Renaissance France May 20: Bloodstone  May 21: Hyacinth  May 22: Eclipse  May 23: Emerald  May 24: Silk Road  May 25: Madame Pele May 26: Aurora Australis May 27: Turquoise  May 28: Orchid  May 29: Ancient Rome  May 30: Desert Sunrise  May 31: Diamond

[nuagederose]

let’s go, robot men~ 🌹

[nuagederose]

so, I just saw that this year marks 10 years of the mermay challenge.

knowing how much of a love-hate relationship I have with the challenge (I love drawing merfolk, but the challenge itself has became a complete circle jerk), i think that if I do in fact do it this year, I’ll probably do that art nouveau mermay (albeit with the stones swapped out for other ones like my art nouveau-tober) that went down a couple of years ago—just because I don’t know what the prompts are going to be this year.

[nuagederose]

“loose skin”

because when you lose 100+ pounds like I have, you’re going to have some of that, specifically around the belly-hips-thighs region. I see it when I’m sitting down: my thighs will spread out a great deal; when I’m doing yoga, in the “downward dog” or “cat” positions: it’ll hang from my thighs and my gut looks like a deflated balloon; when I’m laying in bed, running my hand along the curvature of my hip, and it feels so soft in the most weirdly satisfying way. It really is so weird, too, because my thighs are getting so toned, when I sit with my legs bent I have a thigh gap (!!!!!), and I can feel my hipbones with ease, but I have a baker’s belly 🫠

[nuagederose]

left: my ode to Mexico with the scorpion ladies, Vanessa, Jane, and Egypt 🩸

right: my ode to Canada with Ben and Ashley 🍁

[nuagederose]

memento vivere 🔮

[nuagederose]

let me feel your long tresses

top left clockwise: alex skolnick, chris cornell, steve coogan, richard hammond, krist novoselic, mark lanegan, and eric peterson

[nuagederose]

Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Twenty-Five: I Think I Would Die

ao3 link

The road trip up to New England could not have come sooner to them and to Christine in particular as the whole week had been entrenched in immense heat. It was that kind of heat wave that made itself known the very second the sun rose over the horizon and peeked through Christine’s apartment windows. Not even the sweet caress of her air conditioner could take away the feeling.

However, Wendy seemed more than happy to make a chocolate tres leches cake kissed with spices, especially when Christine told her that she was going to spend the weekend up there.

She never specified as to whom she was going with up there but she assured her mother that they would like the cake very much, and thus, she received half of a cake as part of her departure gift. She gave Wendy the biggest hug and vowed to be back by Sunday evening.

“You kids take your time,” Wendy advised her. “Those tourists are going to be out in full force for the same reason you’re going up there.”

Another hug, and Christine took the Tupperware of the half of the cake back to her kitchen to keep in the safety of her fridge.

The next day, she packed her things, but she made a note to keep the cake in the fridge until the very last minute. Since the heat wave would finally let up throughout the weekend, they decided to leave in the heart of the afternoon so they could be met with the ocean air all the way up to Cape Cod and they would be there come dinner time.

Indeed, come lunchtime, Christine bowed out of the apartment with her overnight bag and the Tupperware container of tres leches cake. She wore that white lace blouse that he had bought her as well as a pair of rich dark green Bermuda shorts. Within a few months, she would take her green coat out of the closet and curl up next to Alex with it.

Meanwhile, once she had come downstairs, Alex had already showed up outside of her apartment in a snug dark gray shirt and low-slung black long shorts. His shoulder-length black hair was almost smooth and nicely combed back: there was a slight curl right over his shoulders, and his skin looked as smooth as porcelain. He looked a bit fuller, rounder, and softer right then, especially with the shade cast down from the building upon the crown of his head and his shoulders. He lifted his sunglasses up from his face to show her his eyes.

“There he is,” she greeted him, and she kept the half of the cake tucked under her arm.

“And there she is,” he declared, and he lowered his gaze to container. “What have we here?” he asked her with a slight raise of his eyebrows at her.

“Chocolate tres leches cake,” she told him as she took off the lid.

“Oh my goodness,” he remarked. “Put that lid back on before I stick my hand in there and take a good bite of it.” Christine giggled at that, and she put the lid back on. He helped her load her things into his car, and soon, they left for the Cross Island Parkway and then the 95 which would take them along the rim of the city and into Connecticut.

“So our room is something of a bungalow,” he explained as they left the outer rim of town and for the state line and the first toll booth. “It overlooks the ocean and it’s next to a little restaurant selling strictly clam chowder and shrimp scampi.”

“Love me both of those things,” Christine replied as she put her hand up on the handle right over her head.

She glanced out the window at the rolling coastline of Connecticut before her and the coast of Long Island right across the Sound. The lush trees, the tender bushes, the occasional lighthouse, the little beach houses and bungalows and the fact that everything was much more expensive than either of them could stomach.

When they stopped for fuel right outside of New London and the state line of Rhode Island, she noticed that there was a vista point with a tall white stone lighthouse and the ocean. He had tucked his camera in the center console.

He had apparently read her mind, as well. When he had tucked the nozzle into the fuel tank, he strode on over to the patch of grass with the tall evergreen spruce right next to the pumps. Next to the spruce was the lighthouse out on the peninsula.

“Christine, check it out,” he called back. Alex put his arms up against the tree branches so his shirt hem lifted up all the while to show off a bare narrow sliver of his lower belly, much to Christine’s amusement.

“Oh, aren’t you cute,” she declared, and she lifted the camera and snapped a picture of him before the view of the ocean. He treated her to some cashews and a cookies and cream bar, while he took a big bag of peanuts.

“As long as I get a bite of your bar,” he said as she unwrapped it and offered it to him. Alex took a small but good bite of it, and he nodded his head all the while. But Christine was eager to share the cake with him once they were checked into their room.

The highway wound up through Narragansett and around the edge of the bay towards Providence, and Alex suggested to stop at a quiet little bookstore on the side of town once he saw the crates outside of the back door.

“A whole baker’s dozen of old books for a quarter,” he stated. “Can’t beat that!”

“Not at all,” she said with a smile. Indeed, Christine picked out six books for herself and Alex chose six as well, and then they decided on the seventh together. The seventh book would be something special, something they could share together away from the world, and away from Captain Howdy as well.

“Dorian Grey,” he said as he lifted up the book from the very bottom of the crate.

“I love that one—is it first edition?” she asked him, and he set down his stack to check on the inside cover and the title page.

“Third edition,” he replied, and he raised his gaze to her with his eyebrows raised up. Christine could see the twinkle in his eye all the while, but then he lowered his gaze back to the crate. “The Awakening by Kate Chopin.” He picked up the little novella and checked the title page. “Fantastic little book, but third edition as well.” He turned his attention to another bunch of books at the bottom, until he picked one up with his eyebrows knitted together. “The Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks.”

“I remember that,” Christine replied. “I read it when I was a kid, but it’s one of those books that anyone can read, though. It’s one of those books that I think everyone should read.”

Alex opened the book and raised his eyebrows. He then squinted his eyes at her with that being said, and she knew what he was thinking right then. The two of them left the bookstore having bought that book plus the other dozen for a quarter. Alex subsequently treated her to a late lunch of a grinder and a root beer float.

“Fewer things in life are more powerful than nostalgia,” he explained as he picked up the first half of his sandwich for a bite, “especially when it’s rooted in a social sense.”

“May we all have our causes,” she decreed as she raised her glass of root beer float up to him.

Alex had put on his glasses in lieu of his sunglasses at that point, and he could peek over the rims at her. Indeed, they took their time with their lunch, as they had to check into the bungalow within the next hour or so. She knew that she had to tell Alex about Chris at some point, and she wondered if this trip would be the opportunity to carry that out to him.

When they returned to his car, and he treated her to a hand rested upon his belly as well, she noticed the thick gray clouds collecting against the sky right over Narragansett Bay as well as the final stretch of interstate out to Cape Cod. She could feel the rain in the air as they crossed the bridge and made that final shot over to Massachusetts and the peninsula. Indeed, the clouds began to make something of a blanket over them once they reached Cape Cod and the vast view of the Atlantic Ocean. 

Their bungalow was nestled down in the trees with a series of other ones not too far from the lighthouse: a small cozy yurt with a couple extra rooms on the sides and a look out to the lighthouse itself. They had a small bathroom with a shower as well as a cozy bedroom with a bed that looked big enough for the two of them for that evening.

Once they had lugged their things and the Tupperware of tres leches cake into the front room with the plush dark green couch, Christine put her arms around his neck and shoulders. She lifted herself up onto her toes and a kiss on his lips. She pressed her body against his soft belly and his deep chest.

“Come here,” she whispered to him. “Been in the car long enough, we should have our fun before dinner, baby.”

“Oh, yeah, here we go…” Alex showed her a smirk as he climbed onto the couch right before her. He kept those wire-framed glasses on all the while. Even though the couch itself was soft and plush, the arm itself seemed to be a little too hard against his head and neck. When he slid down away from the arm, he rested his head down on the square throw pillow.

“Ow…” he groaned out.

Christine lifted herself onto him and gazed on into his full face. He nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and he raised one eyebrow at her.

“Class is about to be in session soon,” he told her in a low voice.

“I thought we already were having a session,” she pointed out as she rested a hand on his chest.

“Oh, this is a round of tutoring,” he clarified with a wag of his finger. “A round of tutoring before the real thing starts.” He flashed her a wink, and she leaned forward for another kiss on his lips. She cupped his face with her hands, and she slid her knee up to the crest of his hip. He let his hands slide up under her blouse: she could feel him unhooking her bra with those long and lanky fingers.

Christine brought her lips down to the side of his neck, and he treated her to some low, soft groans from the back of his throat. She felt her bra hooks release. She then lifted up and peeled off her blouse, which she lay on the spot on the back of the couch right next to her, and she lay her bra on top of that.

Using his fingers, Alex slowly caressed her breasts and her dark nipples. Christine closed her eyes and breathed harder from the feeling.

“Kiss me there,” she begged to him, and she moved her chest closer to his face.

“Gladly,” he replied with a lick of his lips. He lifted his head and kissed her right on the nipple. Christine gasped from the feeling of his lips, and every time he kissed her on either one. He swapped between the two, and he moved at a slow, deliberate pace just like how she liked it.

Every touch, every caress, every feeling, and she was breathing hard just from that alone. She paid no attention to his hands, which had reached the seat of her pants. He was kissing her on the chest and squeezing her ass at the same time.

“Yes…” she breathed out. “Yes… that’s so good.”

“That’s all that matters, my Strawberry Girl,” he breathed out to her in between kisses. He left her with another one, a longer one on her left breast, and she arched her back from the feeling.

“Oh, good boy,” she whispered to him, and she lay her head down on his chest. Alex rested a hand on her back to hold her, and she realized that he was breathing hard as well.

“Your pleasure is my pleasure,” he assured her, and he let out a little chuckle at that. Christine let out a low whistle and she could feel the parched sensation in the back of her throat.

“I need a drink of water,” she told him.

“I’ll be right here,” he promised her, and when she lifted herself up and let her breasts hang down to him with her nipples still tightly pointed. He hooded his eyes and puckered his lips in all their smooth fullness at her. Christine treated him to a light one on those lips before she climbed off of him and padded into the tiny kitchenette behind the couch for a cup of the clearest water she had ever seen from the filtered faucet. She looked out the window at the low clouds and the first drops of rain against the windowpane.

No one could look in and see her bare breasts hanging out in the open, but he could see her, however,

She had seen the opportunity on the drive over there. No better time to say it than before they made another road trip up to the Adirondack Mountains before school started…

Christine took another cup of water, and she returned to the couch right as Alex was helping himself to some more peanuts. She sat back down next to him and all the while, he showed her a little smile.

“I need to tell you something,” she began in a low voice.

“Tell me anything,” he coaxed her as he leaned back against the cushion. She took another sip from her cup and sighed through her nose.

Nelly flashed into her mind right at that moment. She had to talk to her again. She wouldn’t be there if not for her.

“I… used to know a boy,” she started. “A long time ago. I mean, a really long time ago, like… we’re talking when I was a kid. His name was Chris. He was my best friend, and in hindsight, he was kind of the first love of my life.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at that.

“Chris Pereira,” she continued. “I remember his family celebrating all the Jewish holidays, even the ones you’ve never heard of like the one in August.”

Alex paused for a second. “Tu B’av?”

“That’s the one,” she said with a gesture to him. “I remember wanting to tell him that I loved him on that day. And… if my memory rings true, he… looked a lot like you. Long coarse and curly hair, kinda soft and round, more layered than sandstone…” Her voice trailed off.

“What happened to him?”

“He died,” she replied. “Car accident. He died right over by Lake Placid, actually.”

“Oh my god,” he gasped, and he held a hand to his chest. He then looked off to the side with his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. “Oh, my god, Christine, why haven’t you told me about this sooner?”

“It still kind of hurts me, if I’m honest,” she confessed in a small voice. “I mean, it was sixteen, seventeen years ago, but I still remember it like it just happened…” Her voice trailed off again. She leaned into the couch cushion, and she folded her arms over her belly, which in turn pushed her bare breasts together with her upper arms.

“I have been wanting to tell you about him for so long, too,” she added with a sniffle and with the sound of the rain outside of the window right behind the couch. “It was just… finding the right time and how to lead into it.”

“We all have stories like that,” he assured her. “Things that pain you so deeply that you wonder if anyone would be willing to heat it for themselves or if they’d run the other way screaming at the top of their lungs at the horror they had just heard. The right person will not only stay but listen.”

Christine looked over at him and the thoughtful look on his face. She parted her lips at the sight of him.

The sound of the rain picked up right at that moment. She could feel her bottom lip trembling. Alex put his arms around her and held her close to his full body, and Christine leaned into his chest. The steady sound of his heartbeat and his breathing comforted her; behind her, she swore that the rain was picking up even more right outside of the window. All the while, she couldn’t bring herself to cry at all. The loss of Chris still haunted her but she had no tears left.

She merely leaned against Alex’s body to feel something against her. She closed her eyes and imagined a pillow underneath her.

“I think the one difference between him and you was his eyes,” she continued in a near whisper. “You have those ocean blue ones while his were chocolate brown.”

He stroked her back and her shoulder with nothing more than his fingertips.

“Looks like the trip up to Lake Placid is going to be extra special,” he remarked.

“It certainly will,” she agreed in a soft voice, and for a good long moment, she forgot all about Chuck’s plan to spread a false rumor about them.

[nuagederose]

“I may as well make myself at home there.”

[nuagederose]

alex and christine 🍓

[nuagederose]

Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Twenty-Four: Little Bones

ao3 link

Despite the warmth of the afternoon, Chuck huddled up next to Christine there on the bus, and all the while, he kept his hands pressed down onto the crests of his knees. She sniffled as she struggled to keep the tears at bay: every so often, one would leak out, and she bowed her head forth so no one would see her crying there in the seat next to him. The two of them leaned forward and rested their heads upon the back of the seat in front of them: it reminded her of the times in which she would ride the bus to school with Ann, and they would sit exactly like that.

The memory felt so faint and so far away, but she could remember it through the fog bank which whirred about inside of her mind. Indeed, thinking of the memory bestowed a glaze upon her face, such that Chuck had to shake her a bit to garner her attention.

“I bet it is hard,” he admitted to her; he kept his face close to hers, such that she could smell the cologne on the side of his neck as well as the drink on his breath. The latter never fazed her for a second, but she knew that it could possibly give them a little run of trouble in the future should things ever manifest in the way that he had suggested to her before.

“I had him in my arms,” she whispered to him as the bus lumbered forward along the street. “I cried into his chest. I never thought I would bleed over a man so much as the way I did, but I did.” She could feel her throat closing up from the thought of losing him to her, to Captain Howdy.

“And what did he do?”

“He vowed that I would never lose him,” Christine recalled, “but the thing is I really don’t know if he understands the damage she’s done unto him. When she’s in the picture, it’s like he goes into tunnel vision of sorts and he forgets about anything and everything else that matters. The day of the wedding, I really could lose him.” She closed her eyes and felt her bottom lip tremble from the apprehension. Chuck shifted his weight, but he moved in closer to her. He was letting her vent and bleed on her own.

“So, when is their wedding?” he asked her in a low voice. “Do you know at all?”

“First night of Hanukkah,” she replied, and she huddled closer to him. “Or rather, the day after Christmas.” She sniffled again. “I really just… I love him, Chuck. He’s the love of my life. And he tells me that I won’t lose him at all, but I know in my heart that the second he signs his name on the dotted line, that’s it. He’s pushed into Captain Howdy’s arms and then I’m ancient history.”

Her bottom lip trembled from the thought, and Chuck rested a hand on her upper back.

“Well… let’s start from the beginning,” he coaxed her. “School starts after Labor Day so you can make it known that you’re sleeping with him before then.”

“Before?” Christine raised an eyebrow at the sound of that.

“Oh, yeah, you ever hear a wild rumor about someone at school before?”

“As a matter of fact, I have,” she answered.

“The juiciest ones always start on the first day or before school starts,” he told her. “That’s when everybody is new, so to hear something like that from the start sets the tone for the year. It’s like laying the roots down for how the school year is going to go for that person as well as the periphery. Think of the time when you got back to school following the summer of someone’s growth spurt. It’s like that.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, like that.” Her memory was foggy and dark, but she did have a slight memory of that particular summer and that particular first day of school. She could not recall as to whom it was that came back beginning to develop such as that, but it rang through her mind, however.

“How do you think I should do that?” she asked him with a knitting of her eyebrows at him.

“You leave that up to me,” he advised her, and he flashed her a wink. Christine gaped at him.

“You wouldn’t!” she replied in a hushed voice.

“I’m going to,” he promised her. “Really, it’s going to be mental, and I won’t hold back, either. Just as long as you’re comfortable with it, because that’s a huge rumor to spread.”

“It really is, and I don’t think I’m very comfortable with someone else spreading something like that about me, either. Let’s approach it together as well as slowly, like uh… how about…” She shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno, like Alex and I get caught in the act.”

“And I’m the one who catches you, too,” Chuck quipped.

“Yes! Yes, and then you spread the rumor from there. That way, I can have some sense of control over it. I can also do things like deny it.”

“Say I was drunk or that my eyesight is bad,” he followed along, and he had a particular twinkle in his eye that Christine found rather endearing.

“And that’s exactly what I’m going to do, too. We can go from there after that.”

“It’s just finding the right moment to do that,” Chuck followed along some more.

“He wants to take me up to Lake Placid before school starts,” she informed him. “The weekend before Labor Day, too, so we have the place all to ourselves. I’ll give you the full scoop, too. You could say like… you just so happened to be there and you saw us together.”

“I can’t just so happen to be there,” he pointed out, and he lifted his head right as the bus halted right to the next stop. He fluttered his eyelids at the feeling and then shook his head.

“You okay?” she asked him.

“Yeah, the bus just kind of… braked suddenly is all. I also couldn’t remember if this was my stop, either.”

“Surely, you would know,” she told him.

“I do kind of know and don’t call me Shirley,” he joked, and she giggled at that. “Anyways, I could say that I was visiting my friend up there before school started and I just so happened to see you there. How ‘bout that?”

“I like it,” she told him with a nod, and she raised her head up from behind the seat. “I can roll with that. But wait, what about Nelly?”

“What about her?”

“She got me into this in the first place,” Christine explained. “She’s the whole reason why this whole affair with Alex is as clandestine as it is. If she finds out about this rumor at all, she’ll wanna know what the hell happened and what we did to get caught.”

“I could just be an outsider to the whole thing,” Chuck suggested. “You know. New boy, just visiting his friend and he saw one of his professors with a girl from his class. He didn’t know what was going on but it wouldn’t surprise him at all. You could swear up and down that you thought you were alone together there. Takes the responsibility off of you as well as me because I could do the whole ‘I heard this’ nonsense, you know?”

“True, true… there’s a part of me that worries, though,” she pointed out. “You know, Alex could get fired and lose his teaching license, and I could get expelled and my parents will wonder where the hell they went wrong, especially since they don’t know about Alex…” She sighed through her nose. “This is a lot harder than I thought.”

“It really is,” Chuck confessed, and he once again leaned his head against the back of the seat before them. “Understand, you are older, though, so I don’t see it being that scandalous so to speak. It’s hard to say, though, especially when you bring up your parents.”

“Yeah, an affair is an affair,” Christine noted. “And it’s true that I am having one with him.” She showed him a wink, and he returned the favor with a smile.

“I remember when Eric tried to spark a rumor that Captain Howdy was a lesbian,” she recalled, and Chuck snickered at that.

“And how’d that go?”

“It actually didn’t get off the ground,” she said. “He tried to say that Alex was with a closeted woman, but I haven’t heard anything of it since then, though.”

“Actually, now that you mention it, I do remember that,” Chuck said with a wag of his finger to her. “I remember hearing about it in summer school, like on the first day I was the aide. It was one of those things that I heard in passing, too, and I had to stop and really pay attention to it.”

“Do you remember who said it?”

“I don’t. But it was a couple of girls, though, which means it does have some traction to it.”

It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in Christine’s head right then.

“Hey, yeah, that’s it!” she declared. “Let’s parlay on that.”

“Alex is with a lesbian and looking for a way out,” Chuck followed along, and he raised a fist to her for a bump. She gave him one, and then he raised his head again as the bus came to the next stop. “Oh, here I am now. You got my number, and I have yours.”

“Indeed, I do,” she promised him as he gathered himself and stood to his feet. She watched him pad off the bus with a few other people; through the amber light of the setting sun, she could see him walking up to his apartment building with the key to the front door in hand. Though she was risking something by sparking a rumor, she knew that she could work her way around it all once the dust had settled around her.

But she knew that she would have to dig back into Nelly’s realm before she went any further, however. If nothing else, she had to set the record with her lest the rumor find its way over to her at any given point: something told her that it would as Nelly knew everyone in the school.

The bus reached the curb outside of the front door of her apartment complex, and right as the sun disappeared behind the rest of the buildings on either side of her: the amber light began to shift and change color to bright pink interlaced with violet. She hoped that Nelly was home as she made her way to the second apartment on left side of the second floor.

Christine was greeted by the sound of Stephen Stills emanating from her mother’s apartment right across the hallway. She smiled to herself and hoped that at some point or another, Wendy would make that chocolate tres leches cake that was always wonderful in the thick of summer, in particular those dog days of summer when the heat seemed to drag on and out. If nothing else, she could take something back to Alex to further seduce and entice him.

She ducked inside of her apartment, opened the windows to let the evening air inside, and fetched her phone. She still had Nelly’s number in her address book, and she was quick to dial it.

It rang once, twice, three times, and then she reached the machine. It was so strange to hear Nelly’s voice after not hearing it for some time prior to then, but Christine had to think of the matters at bay.

“Nelly—it’s Christine,” she began, and all the while, her voice trembled a bit. “I just really want to talk to you, especially since school’s going to start soon. I don’t want anything bad between us, and especially not this year, either.” She closed her eyes and sighed through her nose. “I need you, and so does Alex. Give me a call if and when you can, thank you. If I’m being completely and totally honest, I want to tell you that I miss you.” She hung up and ran her fingers through her ponytail there at the back of her head.

With nothing more to add, she changed into her pajamas of a camisole plus some shorts, and then she padded across the hallway to have dinner with her mother. All the while, she never made one mention of Alex or the wedding to Wendy. Something told her that she was eventually going to have to come clean, even before Chuck had showed up, but she knew in her heart that she would have to prepare herself for the worst.

The next morning, Christine woke up bright and early to fetch herself a cup of coffee as well as a bite to eat, but before she even so much as put her shoes on, she picked up her phone once more and dialed Alex’s number.

It rang once, twice, four times—

“Hey, it’s Alex—I’m either out teaching a class or doing something else. Leave a message and I’ll try and get back to you. Thank you.” The beeping sound followed, and Christine closed her eyes.

“Hey, baby, it’s Christine,” she told him, and her voice came out in a near whisper all the while, especially since she knew that Wendy had to be awake at that point. “I’m just getting back to you as promised. Um… give me a call back if and when you get this. I love you.”

No sooner had she set the phone down on the little side table by the couch when it rang again. She pressed the button and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” His voice hit her like a brick.

“Oh, hi!” She could feel her face growing warm from the sound of his voice. “I just left you a message.”

“Yeah, I saw it just now. What’s happening?”

“You wanted me to call you today,” she explained.

“Yeah, I did. Because I just… I wanted to hear your voice. I needed to hear your voice, actually. I honestly can’t stop thinking about yesterday and the way that you cried to me.”

“And I can’t stop thinking about it, either,” she confessed, and she could feel the tears welling up at the mere thought of it.

“I still want to take you up to Lake Placid,” he said; his voice was as tender and sweet as ever. “Week before school starts, we find ourselves a little cabin in the woods and have some fun, if you catch my drift.”

“Let’s go alone,” she suggested to him. “I want to go there with you and only you.”

“Of course!” he promised her. “The whole shindig wouldn’t be a date with my girl Christine Sixteen if it wasn’t just me and her.”

“I wanna take our mugs, too. You know. The mugs I made for the two of us—you and me, I mean. Let’s make this all our own because I want you to have a good memory to ruminate over before the wedding.”

“Oh, those! Yeah, I agree. Let’s take something of ours and then go to the place where we can be alone. We can camp out in the woods together in a little cabin and have those mugs on hand. I’ll make us some coffee and we can spend all the time in the world together.” He then cleared his throat. “Bring something baked, too. That apple Brown Betty was just to die for, let me tell you.”

“Oh, I can tell,” she promised him, and she couldn’t resist the smile on her face at that. “How about something sexy like… something chocolate and laced with some spices?”

“I vote yes,” he answered, and he cleared his throat right then. Something about the sound of his voice made her wonder, as if he was hiding away in the closet in the hallway or in the bathroom, away from those prying ears.

“My mom makes a mean chocolate cake laced with cinnamon and nutmeg—it just tastes like chocolate pudding with some Mexican hot chocolate mixed in,” she explained.

“Ooh, like a… a, uh, tres leches cake?”

“Yeah! It’s especially good this time of year given her kitchen gets so hot and everything.”

Alex cleared his throat again, and Christine wondered if he really was alone in his apartment, as if he had just ducked into the closet or the bathroom, away from Captain Howdy.

“Alex,” she began again.

“Yes?”

“Are you alone right now?”

“Yes, of course.” He paused right in his tracks. “Why?”

“You just sound like you’re trying to keep your voice down is all.”

“Nah, I’m laying in bed,” he replied, and she could hear him stretch after that. “When you called me, I had literally just woken up. It is still early after all. I’m laying in bed, flat on my back with my hand up my shirt to touch my chest. I wish you were here to hold me right now.”

“I would love to hold you,” she admitted. “In fact, that’s all I feel like doing right now, especially since you’re in bed and everything.”

“And believe me, if she was here, I wouldn’t be talking to you, period,” he assured her. “The very second she walks through my front door, she puts a monopoly on everything I have, to the point where I have absolutely no escape whatsoever.”

“I really wish I could hold you now,” she confessed in a soft voice. “Like, you deserve to be held so snug against me like a big teddy bear. A big teddy bear with a soft cute belly.”

“And you deserve a big teddy bear,” he said, “and god, I wish you could seriously hold me right now after hearing all of that.”

“I’m about to go and get some coffee as well as something to eat at the restaurant near my place,” she told him. “You wanna meet up?”

“Oh, god, I wish I could, but I have a professor’s meeting at the school today,” he replied with a sigh. “I have another one tomorrow so tomorrow morning is no good, either. I feel like I keep making promises to you and they just fall through because something always happens. That’s why I really want to take you to Lake Placid before school starts, you know?”

“Just you and me away from the world…” Her voice trailed off.

“Just you and me,” he echoed her. She heard him grunt on the other end, which was then followed up by his bed making a noise. He was telling the truth.

“You know what’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately?” he began again, and his voice remained low and throaty.

“What, making out with me?” And she couldn’t resist smiling at that.

“Well, that, too,” he quipped, and she could hear him chuckle on the other end. “I’ve been thinking about trying to be more romantic towards you, especially with summer almost over and school starting soon here pretty soon. There’s just… something about this time of year that makes me nostalgic in a way.”

“The days are still warm but the feeling of fall is in the air,” she followed along.

“It makes me all warm to think about, too,” he continued. “It gives me a tender feeling inside and… I want to come forth with this big Skolnick gesture towards you. Let’s go to Lake Placid. Let’s go to the ocean, too, and when I say the ocean, I don’t just mean Coney Island. I mean, further away. I’m talking Cape Cod and New England. She’s doing some wedding planning bullshit that I really just don’t want to think about the longer I’m talking to you, so I want to get away from that, and I know you do, too. What do you say?”

“When do we want to go?” she asked him, and she thought back to Chuck’s plan for a brief moment.

“How about next weekend? Gives the two of us some time to plan ahead and everything. I’ll just mosey on out of here without a word, too. She doesn’t need to know where I’m going.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Christine assured him, and she couldn’t resist the smile on her face, either. “She absolutely does not. Let’s do it.”

“Okay! I’ll get us a room and then we can sneak on outta here, lock, stock, and barrel. Go eat, dear Christine. I can tell you’re hungry.”

“I can tell that you are, too, baby,” she told him, and she heard him chuckling at that. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“And I shall return the favor,” he vowed to her. “I love you.”

“And I love you to death,” she followed up, to which he let out a low whistle.

“Phew. Words can’t say how long I’ve been wanting to hear that one.”

They hung up at the same time, and Christine adjusted her ponytail at the back of her head. She wondered what he meant by sneaking out lock, stock, and barrel, and if it had anything to do with slipping out in the middle of the night.

[nuagederose]

Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Twenty-Three: Dancing Days

ao3 link

Summer school only lasted until about the middle of August, at which point Christine was more than eager to see Alex more and more at regular school again. She thought about the graphic novel which she had started before the first year of school had ended, and she knew that she had to work on it some more before the first day, which was more than a month away at that point. The long summer days proved to be hot ones, and ones where she found herself retreated into the cool comfort of her apartment. She could spend the rest of that month drawing as best as she could to her own avail, especially when her mother eventually knocked on the door one day.

“Merry Christmas in summer, my girl,” Wendy decreed as she showed her the small green ceramic casserole dish filled with apple Brown Betty straight out from the oven. Christine could smell the cinnamon, the cloves, and the nutmeg embedded within, and she greeted her mother with an embrace because of it. It was the tenth year in a row that they had done Christmas in the summertime, although from what Christine could gather they had been doing it for quite a bit longer than that.

She remembered the first time that they had done so, and it was before Ann had left her life as well. It began life with a couple of fruit pies straight out of the oven, and then Ann had put on a Santa hat just for the laughter of it all. It then escalated with some garlands strewn over the kitchen counter.

Christine remembered that it was nearly a hundred degrees that day as well, and yet the three of them were sitting together in the heart of Wendy’s living room with warm pies and garlands around them as if it was the middle of December in the thick of a Nor’easter.

She then vowed to give the dish back to her mother once she had finished the Brown Betty, and all the while, she had it with a dollop of ice cream over the top of it.

When the sun went down, she thought of calling up Alex and telling him about it, but at the same time, she wondered if her mother would object to her having a man over, especially when she still hadn’t told her about him at all. She served herself a small plateful, complete with the vanilla ice cream on the side. It tasted just like the tail end of September, right at Alex’s birthday. It was right then she thought about treating him to something special for his day. Something more than just a little trip down to Coney Island, as well.

As she took slow, deliberate bites of the apple Brown Betty, she thought about trying her hand at baking something. It would be one of the many things that she would try out as she gazed on ahead at her thirties as well as the fact that she could lose Alex so easily in the coming months. If nothing else, she could take him under that way.

She wondered if that would be the perfect means of seducing him, through her art as well as through some finagling and baking that she was somewhat familiar with.

Wendy had given her a small casserole dish full of it, and thus, the first thought through her mind was that she could share it with someone else. Once the music of David Crosby floated on over from across the hallway right then, she figures that that was the best time.

Christine made sure that the plate was as clean as a whistle as she carved out another square piece of the cobbler and served it. She covered it up with a small sheet of tin foil, and she made sure that it was all in snug and taut. She slung her purse over her shoulder, and she swiped her keys from the bowl next to the front door.

The sun was beginning to set over the New York City skyline at that point, but the heat remained over the entire landscape like a hard and fast dome to lock them all inside: indeed, she could feel the heat emanating off the blacktop before her with such intensity that it nearly made her eyes water. When she stood at the bus stop with the plate in hand, she held still lest a few beads of sweat run about on her head and shoulders. She once again wore those little Bermuda shorts, but that time she had on a stretchy black camisole under a red silk shirt, much like how Alex himself dressed at that time of year.

The next bus ride took her down to his neighborhood in Brooklyn, and all the while, she kept the little plate perched upon her lap. She could hope that he had ice cream or at least some good crème fraîche on hand, especially with something so warm and sweet. She also hoped that he would understand this something of a tradition that followed her family for an entire decade as well. Christine closed her eyes when the late afternoon sun cast down over her head and shoulders: even with the air conditioning on her head and shoulders, she could still feel the heat of the late summer on her disposition, the immenseness of the humidity and the fact that the concrete jungle which surrounded her gave her no relief. There was a big part of her that wanted to escape from the city, to find her way out and into the countryside where the trees could give her all the more protection from the sun. If she left town, then she would have to think of a way to bring Alex along with her as well.

If anything, he seemed more than open to find a way out as well. That was a man in pain, and she couldn’t afford to leave him behind. There was also the crazy idea which crossed her mind once more right as the bus rounded the next corner, and she would soon be met with the rows of trees in the center of the street, that was his street. She could ask Alex to come along with her and Eric back out to California in the next spring lest they plan on doing it again.

Out to California, and perhaps go even further than that, out to the remoteness of Hawai’i.

She reached up and rang the bell, and the driver pulled over to the side of the street for her. Christine thanked the driver, and she stepped off into the hot afternoon sun. No sweat appeared on the side of her face as she crossed the street and reached the other side of the street, but the heat was unmistakable. She reached his front step, whereby she could feel something cold looming over her; she took a glimpse over her shoulder to find the rather scraggly tree right behind her still shuddering in the breeze as if fall had arrived early that day.

With her free hand, Christine knocked on his door, and she waited for a second. Alex opened the door and showed her a little smile filled his buck teeth. He had tucked his glasses into the V-neck collar of his white shirt, which hugged the shape of his body perhaps much better than any of his black shirts, and he wore some dark short pants which showed off his legs to her.

“Hey, you,” he greeted her with something of a nervous tone to his voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, what’s going on?”

“My mom made some apple Brown Betty, and I thought of bringing you some.” She showed him the plate shrouded in tin foil, and his face lit up at the sight of it.

“Oh, wow! That sounds marvelous.” He took the plate and lifted up a corner of the foil for a whiff of the inside. “Mmm. Smells amazing, too. Um… you wanna come in? Have some coffee?”

“I would love a cup of coffee,” she promised him, and she stepped inside of his apartment, which was even cooler than her own place. She closed the door behind her and adjusted her ponytail at the back of her head.

“I didn’t even know you could enjoy something so warm and sweet this time of year,” he confessed to her as he made his way into his small kitchen.

“We’ve been doing this thing for the last ten years now—it’s like Christmas in July but it’s just ‘middle of summer,’” she explained in a single breath.

“I like that,” he said, and she heard him peeling the foil off the plate. “I like that a lot, actually.” She padded into the kitchen doorway, where he brought the tip of his nose down to the cobbler itself for a whiff. Something about the look on his face seemed a little bit off, however, as if he was distracted by something.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked him, and he shook his head.

“Not at all, actually,” he assured her with a shake of his head; he turned around and opened the refrigerator door, and he fetched a can of crème fraîche out from the crisper drawer. “I just… didn’t expect to find you here at this hour.”

Christine nibbled on her bottom lip. “She came here, didn’t she,” she guessed in a low voice.

Alex sighed through his nose and bowed his head a bit. Indeed, the wide-brimmed fear escaped his eyes and face, but nothing could deny the sinking feeling that she had in the pit of her stomach.

“We have a date tonight,” he informed her in a low voice. “It was sort of last minute, too, like she got it out of me. But I’m going to tell you this, though. I won’t be eating much at dinner.” He flashed her a wink, and then he scooped out a dollop of the crème fraîche and lay it over the apple Brown Betty. Indeed, there was a small part of her that wanted to make him some more food, some more baked goods to fill his belly and spoil his dinner some more. She could not let Captain Howdy win this battle. She wanted it to be the mother of all Pyrrhic victories if nothing else.

Alex picked out a clean fork and shoveled in a bite of Brown Betty with a bit of the crème fraîche into his mouth right there at the counter. He lifted his head and closed his eyes.

“Delicious?” she asked him, and she couldn’t resist the smile on her face right then.

“Oh, man, that’s wonderful,” he said with his mouth full. He relished in the flavors for a moment before he swallowed it down. “It tastes like Rosh Hashanah.”

“She also thinks of doing a blackberry Brown Betty at some point, too,” she pointed out, and she strode up behind him. The shape of his body was still full and shapely, much to her liking.

“Sign me up for a whole baker’s dozen of it,” he joked as he took another bite. Christine put her arms around his waist from behind, and she rested her hands on his soft, still slightly rounded belly. He was still like a little pillow there, and she never wanted to let him go. He rested his free hand on her hands where they met up in the middle of his body. Christine flexed her fingers over the soft white fabric of his shirt: to never let him go and hold him in her arms forever.

He swallowed again, and that time, he hesitated to take another bite. Christine lay her head against his back. The cool air in his apartment kept them glued together as it would in the rainy winds of the fall and the snowy darkness of the winter. Alex breathed in deep and bowed his head a bit: she could feel the pad of his thumb on the back of her hand. She closed her eyes once she heard the metal tines of the fork hit the plate again.

“I owe you another date, too,” he confessed to her, once more with his mouth full. “At least before school starts again.”

“Upstate or to Coney Island,” she suggested in a muffled voice.

“I’d be happy with either one,” he said. “I also think of taking you all the way up to Lake Placid. Just you and me, too, no Eric or Valentina or Sabrina or Nelly. A little five-hour road trip starting at the early hours and we get there at lunchtime.”

She opened her eyes and gazed on at the wall off to her right. There was only one other time she had been to that lake, and it took place before Chris was killed as well. A big part of her worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle being there for long, but at the same time, she wondered if going there would uncover some unresolved pain that she had long forgotten.

“I haven’t been there since I was little,” she told him with a lift of her head. She raised herself up on her toes a bit so her face could be right behind his ear, even with a face full of his hair.

“So, it would be all the more special, then!” he declared. He turned his head and showed her a little smile accentuated by the full tip of his nose. “I say, let’s go the weekend before Labor Day weekend. You know, before the place gets slammed with those end-of-summer crowds.”

Christine cracked a wistful smile at that.

“I’ll start packing, baby,” she promised him, and he had to lean back a bit so she could nudge his long black hair back and kiss him on the side of the neck. He showed her a tender smile, and with her arms still wrapped around his body, she watched him finish that piece of apple Brown Betty. He licked the fork clean of the crème fraîche, and then he turned around to face her. He put on his glasses so she could have a smooth space between her face and his body. Christine gazed up at him, and she rested a hand on his chest. She ran her hand down onto his belly, which was so snug and warm, even in the fading summer light.

“I could eat about… three more plates of that,” he confessed, and he let out a hearty little chuckle.

“I want you to eat some apple pie with vanilla ice cream,” she told him. “And then I want you to follow it up with a big fat Reuben sandwich.”

“With pastrami or corned beef?”

“Whichever you want, baby,” she said, and she brought her hand up to his chest again. “With the rye bread and the French fries on the side, too. I want you so full, so warm and sweet… such that I can’t help but cozy up next to you.” Christine gaze up into his handsome face, right as he showed her a little smirk. “I want to cozy up to you and make love to you like you’ve never been made love to in your life.” She was about to stand up on her toes to kiss him on the full lips, when his phone made a noise. He had placed it on the counter behind him, but she never noticed it until that point. Christine stopped, and Alex turned around to pick it up for a look. He then sighed through his nose, and she knew what that meant, such that it made her bottom lip tremble.

“Fucking shit, right as I got into the mood,” he groaned.

“Right as I got in the mood, too!” She couldn’t resist it: her eyes filled with tears and a hard lump formed in her throat. Alex gaped at her and threw his arms around her.

“Oh, dear Christine! Don’t cry!”

“I just love you to death,” she wept, and she buried her face in his chest. “I don’t ever want to lose you!”

He brought his hand up to the back of her head, and he kissed her on the forehead. He then leaned his head over hers, as if he was protecting her. His chest shuddered and shook underneath her body, and she could tell that he was crying as well.

“You will never lose me,” he promised her, a delicate whisper right into her ear. “Never… never, never, never, never, never…” As a tear fled down from one eye, he nudged her ponytail back away from her neck. He pressed his lips onto her skin, the softest caress that she could ever wish for. More tears fell from her, but he cupped her face in his long, lanky hands. His lips locked onto her own, and he let his fingers creep up into the very back of her ponytail. He let go and she gazed into his eyes, which seemed much glossier and brighter than before.

“You will never lose me,” he repeated in a breathy whisper.

“I have to go,” she breathed out to him as another tear fell.

“Call me tomorrow,” he told her with a sniffle.

“Always,” she vowed, and she wiped away her tears. She ducked out of the kitchen for her purse, and more tears fell right then, such that she had difficulty seeing anything. She nearly tripped over the leg of his coffee table from the clouding of her eyes.

“Christine,” he called after her. She turned to him as her eyes cleared again. He stood in the doorway with his hands on the edges of the frame. “Thank you for that Brown Betty. I am… going to eat more cream once you leave just so I don’t have to eat a lot of dinner with her. God, I am… such a fucking idiot.”

She sniffled, sobbed a bit, and nodded her head. He blew her a kiss, and she bowed out of there and back to the street. The sun was beginning to go down at that point, such that the heat was starting to subside to a degree. Christine wept the whole walk down to the bus stop, and she hoped no one else would see her. Not even that boy Chuck, the boy who aided Alex’s class a couple of months before. 

He had taken his spot on the narrow top of the brick wall behind the actual closure itself. His long molasses-colored hair seemed much more lush in the summer sun, and more so when she noticed the joint in between his fingers on one hand and the can of cola in the other. His old stone face seemed to soften when he saw that she was a sobbing mess even from across the street. She stalked across the pavement to reach him.

“You okay?” he asked her, and she rubbed her eyes.

“Yeah, I just… I worry about the fact that I’m going to lose Alex at some point,” she confessed with a slight break in his voice.

“Ohhh, because of his wedding and everything,” Chuck followed along.

“I just… I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Christine sputtered. “I keep saying it but I mean it this time…” She buried her face in her hands, but then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head and looked on into his bright eyes and his softened face.

“I think I can help you with that,” Chuck told her as he put out his joint on the top of the brick wall right next to his thigh.

“What?” She could hardly keep her composure in front of him.

“I can,” he insisted. “There are ways of at the very least making the experience awful for them, and for her, in particular. I can think of ways right now.”

“Could you really?” Christine was taken aback by the gesture.

“Yeah. I’m going to be the teacher’s aide for the fall, so I have a bit of an inside view to the whole shebang.”

Christine ran her fingers through her ponytail, and she peered behind her to find if anyone was eavesdropping on them, and even with the crowded streets at the helm, she knew that no one would be paying much attention.

“What do we do?” she asked him, and she could feel the tears already beginning to dry away.

“We sabotage the days leading up to the wedding,” Chuck began.

“And how do we do that?” she asked him, slightly baffled by the gesture.

“Ruin the dinners leading up to it,” he explained. “Spread a wild rumor about her that makes it seem like marrying her would be the worst thing in the world.”

“Or, I could admit that I slept with Alex,” she suggested with another sniffle. “You know, just say that there without any context whatsoever.”

“That would make it so spicy, holy god,” Chuck said with a laugh. “We could also find ways to lead her astray, too. You know. Do a little deception and make sure that the wedding gets held off as long as possible.” He then paused and shook his head. “I know, I’m just spitballing here.”

Christine shook her head at that. “No, no, these are fantastic ideas,” she assured him. “It’s just… finding out ways to execute them is all. Getting the timing right and everything. I also have to make sure that I don’t lose Alex, either. That’s my main worry is I inadvertently push him away.”

“That’s true,” he said with a nod of his head. He took a sip of his cola, and he offered her a sip as well, but she refused.

“You should at the very least tell Nelly about it,” he pointed out.

“But, she lied to me, though,” Christine insisted.

“I’m sure she would be more than happy to see you and bury those things between the two of you, though,” he encouraged her. She then clasped a hand to her head. A dead weight had been lifted off her shoulders right then, and more so when the bus lumbered up around the corner before them. He hopped down from the wall and took his wallet out of his snug shorts pocket.

“Can I get your number?” she asked him.

“Of course! We’ll sit together and I’ll treat you to a brief dance on the outskirts of the wide, wide world of Chuck Billy.”

[nuagederose]

Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Twenty-Two: Shadow of the Season

ao3 link

Over the next few weeks, and under the weighted heat from the summer sun, Christine bode her time and picked out the right day to join Alex in his new class. She took the bus up to the school with the paperwork in hand, of which included his signature and even a gentle kiss on the paper right next to the little “x” whereby he had signed it for her. A brand-new elective and a new excuse to be close to him again, and she knew that if Captain Howdy was to be nearby there again much like that day in summer school, she would have to plan around it all. 

She kept the paper rested upon her lap, and she rested her hands upon the top of the paper. Underneath it all, she had a thick paperback book all about Bernini courtesy of him: he had given it to her that day that he signed her paperwork.

“Something to stick it to her, if you know what I mean,” he told her in a soft voice.

Indeed, she slid the papers under the back cover of the book, and she glanced over the front part of it. Bernini, the sculptor and the architect, the latter of which made her hair stand on end and her horns rise up from the crown of her head in proverbial fashion, and yet it was his sculpture that caught her eye and the raise of the eyebrow. The statue of Apollo and Daphne made her think of herself with Alex, in the way in which she held her arms up over her head as if she was falling forth to the ground and he kept his arm around her hips as if to catch her. She cracked open the book to find that Daphne had her arms up in the midst of a metamorphosis into a tree. Apollo kept his hand on her hip

When viewed from the right side, all details could be seen in utmost delicate fashion. The thought of that made her think of all the times she woke up next to Alex, and his sleeping face seemed all the more delicate from the right side. He would lay flat on his back and roll his head to the side so the full tip of his nose held over the edge of his pillow. The roots of his gray streak appeared almost pure white from the morning light. His skin was smooth and lush, filled with the warmth of the morning and having been cozied up in bed next to her.

The thought of being warm, laying next to Alex during a morning rainfall, was enough to beckon a bead sweat from her even on the air conditioned bus.

Christine had on that little white blouse which he had bought for her birthday back in April, while she paired it with fitted red wine-colored Bermuda shorts lined with lace which made it resemble to lingerie. She kept her hair tied up in a snug ponytail at the back of her head, and she pinned back her bangs to expose more of her face to the world. Some days during the summer, especially these particularly hot ones, she just felt a need to peel off her top and bear her bra and bare skin to the world. Something about having gone to California with Eric for a whole week opened up something in her mind.

She was more than willing to head into the brand-new school year with her new devil horns and a willingness to flirt with disaster. New boys at the helm and Captain Howdy appearing more and more, and all the while when she least expected it as well: she could go about with it from the side of the room and she knew that she could keep her fingers linked up with Alex’s long guitar player fingers. That morning in the upstairs spare room in the Iridium gave her everything that she needed to know going into the new school year.

The bus lumbered up to the curb right near the stop, and she kept the paperwork and the book tucked under her arm as she padded out of the cool safe haven and into the heat of the city. The morning sun beat down on the buildings making up the Lower East Side with the tail end of an early August heat wave, such that she could feel it even in shade. The heart of summer bathed her in a thick envelope all the way up the sidewalk to the front of the registrar’s office.

It wasn’t that long of a walk but under the summer heat, it made her think of the one dream she had had where she and Alex were walking across the desert together. She may as well be wading through sun-scorched sand up to her knees, especially when she left the shade for a brief moment.

“Too bloody hot,” she bemoaned, even when she returned to the shade and tugged the door open. She was once again hit with the air conditioner, which only coaxed out more beads of sweat on the side of her neck. But Christine gathered herself and turned to the women at the front desk. She set down the paperwork with a smile and told them everything. A new ID card for the year followed suit, and she returned to the front of the building in a flash and a blur.

It was done. She was going to have three classes with Alex as well as her two art classes. She was going to be utterly swamped come the fall, but she knew that it would absolutely be worth it. She could seduce Alex from all angles, from all right angles to examine all soft details of his face and his body, and if Captain Howdy wanted to join along, she would have to bear witness to it.

The thought was crazy, and she knew that she was going to be walking through the fire with her lingering behind her like the omnipresent demon that she was, but with the thought of Chris and Ann in her mind, she knew she had to take a gamble with it all.

They had slipped from her so fast, and she knew that she could lose Alex. She was going to lose Alex. She was going to lose him to Captain Howdy come the holiday season.

She had to be brave.

Christine returned to the sidewalk and the patch of shade cast down from the crown of the building. She clutched the book and pressed it against her chest as if she was about to meet up with Alex himself for lunch during the school week.

Somewhere about the campus was that new boy Chuck, the one with curly hair, but she looked about the place for Chuck the teacher’s aide from the day in summer school. Both were recognizable even from clear across the grass.

She thought of meeting someone for a round of lunch followed by a ride down to Rockaway Beach, but she wondered if the beach itself was crowded from the immense heat. She suddenly got the thought to meet Alex down by Coney Island once again before school started.

They had to be down on Coney Island again, and once more when no one else was around. She gazed out to the grass as it basked out in the hot sun. She knew that things could be even hotter in the remaining time that she had left with the summer term, and she and Alex could have their moments alone in other places. New York was big, and Captain Howdy couldn’t rule over the entire place.

“To the Museum of Sex,” she said under her breath, and she glanced down at the book nestled within her hands. “And of course, to the Museum of Modern Art.”

She caught the sound of familiar voices on the far side of the courtyard, and she turned her attention to see those smooth heads of hair over there, those smooth heads of rich darkness like fresh molasses, the reminder that fall was coming and she would soon be snuggled up next to Alex, with her head tucked under his chin and her hand down his shorts, all in the safety of her bed once again. Keeping in the line of the shade, Christine made her way along the sidewalk in the hopes that she could keep up with them over there.

Eric took a glimpse over his shoulder, whereby she even recognized him with his sunglasses over his face. He nodded over at her, and Louie turned his head for a look over at her. They both flashed her a wave and big smiles all around; the latter playfully blew her a kiss and she followed it up with sticking out her tongue at him. The two of them laughed and then walked onward to the other side of the building, down by the cafeteria. Christine thought about going in there to fetch a bite to eat and perhaps catching up with them, but she also wondered whether or not she would be predisposed to Nelly.

She knew that she would have quite the story to tell her, and she knew that Nelly would have a difficult time in grappling with the reality of it all. She also couldn’t believe that Nelly would even lie to her, as well.

Christine lingered in the shadow as she knew that she would have to wait a long time before the bus returned to the stop once again. A long time, and she could not bear to walk through the hot sun for very long, much less stand out in the open for a great deal of time with nothing more than the protective awning of the bus stop to protect her from the immense heat.

If the registrar’s office was open, then surely the library was open.

She thought about all the times that she and Chris would retreat to the library together at school, and it was always to help expand their minds when class did not suffice things.

With a quick glimpse up and down the street before her, she breathed in deep, and then she ducked out into the hot sunlight. She padded across the pavement towards the safety of the grass, and she kept on going to the next building for the quietness and stillness of the library. If nothing else, she could seek out solitude amongst the books and papers away from the world, barring the fact that Captain Howdy stayed away from there during the course of the school year.

When she stepped in through the front doors, Christine was again greeted by the blast of cool air from the overhead vent. She glanced about the vast room and the tables strewn across the floor before her. The feeling of the book pages welcomed her. The taste of knowledge at her every whim. The desire to challenge herself and step away from the wounds of the past.

Alex did promise her the Smithsonian in the future, after all. The world and anything that could give her a new feeling of life.

She thought about the night they stayed together over the Iridium, and even though Alex wanted them to stay a second night, there was no way they could, at least not without breaking into the club and finding their way upstairs without anyone looking in their direction. The mere thought coaxed a bead of sweat out from the side of her brow. While Alex always kept her warm during the hard winter days, when she thought about him there, she began to feel the sweat again.

The sticky summer heat on her arms and shoulders, and she yearned for the cooler days of fall with the feeling of Alex cozied up next to her, and more so when she sought out the history books off to the left side of the room. Books about Bernini, but also Frida Kahlo and Vincent Van Gogh, about the Romans and the Egyptians, about the Chinese, the Japanese, the Aboriginals and Māori tribes, and even the ancient Israelites and Persians, and she found herself at the end of the shelves with culinary history.

So many to choose from, but she decided to treat herself on the ride home.

With her book on Bernini, she chose a book on Jewish art as well as a book on bread making: something different and something to challenge her. She checked out and returned to the heat of the day.

Fall was upon her, but so was the thought of the wedding. There still was no plan to thwart things or even so much as postpone them. The mere suggestion of the wedding gave her such a feeling of melancholy that she could only walk on back to the bus stop with her books tucked under her arm.

She knelt down before the tree closest to the bus stop so she could put them into her purse. It was there she remembered that Marlene had taken it and protected it in her purse. Whoever was guarding the tree seemed to have missed the fact that she had been there before and taken it.

She stood back up and continued on to the bus stop. Luckily, she only had to wait for a few minutes under the awning, and the bus returned to the curb before her. She rode all the way back to Queens with the vent over her head, and she ensured that the cool of the air conditioning remained over her head and shoulders.

By the time she unlocked her door, and she was greeted by the sound of Crosby, Stills, and Nash from across the way in her mother’s apartment, she ducked into her apartment, which was still cool from when she left that morning.

Christine peeled off her blouse and let her skin breathe from the heat of the day. She carried her purse into her bedroom, where she left her door open, and she took her books out of the safety of her purse.

She lay down on her back and gazed up at the ceiling overhead for a moment before she cracked open the book about Bernini again. She had no idea if it was from the dog days of summer weighing down on her or the fact that she had gone out and spent a great portion of the day at school again, but she could feel her eyes drooping closed within a few minutes. 

She then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Christine awoke on the shores of a stormy island somewhere. The beach was vast and black, and she lay under a thick heavy blanket of dark gray clouds. A cold high wind blew all around her, and she could feel the weight of snow against her legs and shoulders. She lifted herself up off the sand right as she spotted a schooner down the shoreline from her.

Even with the volcanic sands underneath her feet, she ran towards the boat. She could feel him waiting for her there. Her bare feet made no sound as she ran along the cold blackened earth. The wind whipped her hair back away from the back of her head like the tail of a galloping horse on the desert.

As she came closer to the docked ship, she recognized his silver streak there over the railing. His silver streak whipped in the high winds while the rest of his helmet of rich black hair spread over his shoulders. He looked like a hero waiting for her there on his mighty boat.

Panting, and with her legs sore from having run a great distance, Christine reached the boat and ran up the narrow ramp. The notches on the ramp seemed to rise up like cold stones, stones to keep her away from him. Indeed, she tripped and fell against the ramp, right before she reached him.

But Alex reached out a hand and tugged her aboard. The ramp lifted up behind her and the winds picked up a great deal as they stood up on the deck together like a couple awaiting the arrival of the Carpathia. As they left the island’s shore, Christine could see the slight horseshoe shape of it even from a distance, with the notch in the southern side.

“Deception Island,” he told her as he put his arm around her and tugged her in closer to his warm body. Christine’s hair was wet from the ocean, but she was warm as she pressed herself up against him.

“Where are we going?” she asked him as one of the crew members offered a blanket for them.

“Antarctica,” he replied as he tightened the blanket around her shoulders and her chest, and then he did the same for himself. “We’re going to go on a studying expedition of sorts. You and me and the amazing crew who have organized this whole thing. We’re gonna hang with the penguins and study the whole grand scheme of things from the final frontier.”

A hard gust of wind hit the side of the schooner, such that the entire vessel rocked hard against the waves. Alex kept his arms around her as he guided her into the safe interior of the ship. But the wind howled all around them, and they were hit with cold spray from another high wave. Not a single significant landmass to protect them from the high rogue waves, but they were about to dance with the realm of knowledge at their fingertips even if it meant falling overboard into those icy swirling waters and the vast stretch of unknown.

Christine leaned against the doorframe and Alex kept his arms around her. They still had their blankets wrapped around them, but for whatever reason, they never slid in all the way.

“Stay with me always, my Strawberry Girl,” he whispered to her. Even over the howling winds of the Southern Ocean off to the side, she could hear the tender tone of his voice. 

She could still hear it even when she opened her eyes and found herself back in her bedroom, and the cold of the air conditioner had acted as the cold southern winds. The waters and the sea spray was something to ponder over, however.

[nuagederose]

part two of my something of an advent calendar ❄️

Nelly, Christine, and Alex in front of Chris’ grave

John and Tina on the bus to West Virginia

l’chaim!

“dying of a broken heart”

the return of “Billy Crystal”