“You look nice,” said Cyndy. “All crisp and spiffy.”

Another Country -25-
by Erin Halfelven

Waking up in the trailer was different from waking up in the house. A house is a structure. You can feel the mass of a building around you. The trailer was more of a container, a sort of can for your bed and bones. I could feel the wind that always blows in the morning and evening, this way, then that, like the desert breathing.

I lay there, comfortable under the covers. Early May, spring would linger for a few more weeks, cool outside and somewhere a jay was complaining about being cold. I smiled because I was warm and drowsy.

Eventually, I could hear movement in the house. Mom in the kitchen preparing eggs basted with hot oil so the whites would be done and have little crispy edges. I could smell bacon in the oven, rolls in the warmer, all vanilla-y.

I dreaded getting dressed because I would need to wear the bra again to hide what was happening to me, but it went on easier, as if my hands had already learned a routine. I didn’t want it to be that easy, not like something that just had to happen every day.

I picked a shirt to wear over the bra and chemise, one of my thicker ones for a little extra concealment. Blue with figures of sailing ships in gold, almost too fancy for school. Dark navy slacks with gold stitching, like blue jeans but a different, softer fabric. The slacks fit snugly and didn’t need a belt. Black socks and the shoes my mom called loafers.

I thought I looked good, different from the casual mess of a longer-than-usual weekend. Probably no one would notice what I was wearing, almost certainly not Josh. I reassured myself that this was exactly what I wanted.

I checked my reflection from several angles to confirm that nothing showed of what I was wearing underneath. I dragged a wide-tooth comb through my hair a few times and went in search of the breakfast I could almost taste already.

Mom didn’t usually cook so much of a meal on a mid-week morning. I knew she was anticipating missing John while he was gone on his deployment. But the rest of us could enjoy the fruits of her melancholy.

Cyndy and I were last to the table, but Mom had made plenty. Dad and John each had three eggs, three bacon strips and two rolls with butter or marmalade. Mom and Cyndy had only one egg, one bacon, and one roll apiece, and Cyndy didn’t put any spread on her roll. I had two eggs, two slices of bacon and a roll with my favorite, strawberry jam.

Dad asked, “You feeling all right about going to school today?”

I shrugged. “I don’t have a problem if the school doesn’t.”

Mom put in, “The doctor gave him a note to avoid P.E.”

John scoffed. “That’s not going to keep my little brother off the basketball court if he gets a chance. Tell Josh and the guys I said hi.”

“Do I know this Josh?” Cyndy asked.

“Tall kid, black hair, cheekbones, chin,” said John. “Friends with Bobby since forever.”

“Oh, him,” Cyndy agreed, showing her dimples.

I wanted to glare at her, but I nodded. Before he got married, John was a fiend for hoops and a star on the court back in high school.

“You look nice,” said Cyndy. “All crisp and spiffy.”

She looked pretty spiffy herself, in a pale yellow blouse tucked into brown slacks, with her short ginger-blonde hair neatly arranged around her face. The blouse was thin enough that I could see the faint lines of her bra straps underneath. Apparently, that didn’t count as showing.

“Spiffy?” John roared.

“I think she means all the three-masted schooners. Pretty nautical of you, Bobby,” Dad smiled.

Mom beamed at me approvingly too, but I knew she was checking my appearance for tells about what I was wearing underneath. I appreciated the reassurance when she gave me a subtle wink.

Dad left for work immediately after finishing his coffee. Cyndy and I helped Mom clear the table, and John offered to give me a lift to school.

“I’ll take my bike, I usually do, and you won’t be there to give me a ride in the evening,” I told him, not mentioning meeting up with Josh on the way.

For some reason, Cyndy rolled her eyes at John’s offer, and we traded half-smiles like sharing a joke.

I stopped back at the trailer to retrieve the doctor’s note I had left on the little breakfast table, and then I got on my wheels and started the twelve-block ride to school, with Josh’s house about halfway. The wind blew from the direction of the air base, still cool against my back.

I pulled up in the alley behind the Merrit family businesses and knocked on the back door. Remembering what had happened on Saturday, I glanced up toward Josh’s window, but no way was I going up to his room without making a lot of noise first.

I knocked a second time and Josh’s mom called out from somewhere inside. “He left ten minutes ago, Bobby.” She suddenly opened the door, startling me. “Don’t you look sweet,” she said. She tilted an eyebrow. “Everything fit well?”

Her hand started toward me, so I stepped back. “Everything is fine, Mrs. Merrit,” I said. “I’ll see Josh at school.”

I got back on my bike to leave. Since I hadn’t gone to school yesterday, maybe Josh thought I wasn’t coming today, so he just left without me. I should have called him last night to talk, but then he didn’t call me to see if I was okay. Instead, he’d sent Chud.

The wind had changed direction and now blew in my face. It was like pedaling uphill. I passed the municipal courts where we played pick-up most days off-season, but no one was there in the mornings. I’d met Chud on Saturday near the church where his dad preached, but didn’t see a sign of the big guy who probably walked to school since he hated bikes.

*

Kids bustled all around the school entrance when I arrived. The wind had changed again, coming from Muley Flats now with a hint of alkali dust and sand and the sweet smell of mesquite and palo verde. I pushed my bike through the crowd, not meeting anyone’s glance, but not seeing Josh anywhere.

I didn’t want to say hi. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

I found Josh’s bike in the rack near the gym where we usually left our wheels. At least I knew he was here.

I rolled my bike into the space beside his and took out my chain. Without thinking about it very much, I passed it through both rear wheels before snapping my lock closed.

Now he couldn’t leave without talking to me, at least to get the key.

I stood looking at the two bicycles fastened together.

That was what I wanted, wasn’t it?