« Who Sleeps Where | Main | Nondenominational Has Its Privileges »

May 01, 2008

Heaven Backwards

No fingers, mouths, tongues, lungs, secret crevices or racing, pounding, breaking hearts. After their momentary passion at the airport, Walter kept a careful distance for an hour.

But once she had unpacked, once Evie and DeeDee decided the water was too cold for swimming, Walter suggested an afternoon hike. Amanda sank back into the wooden porch chair and covered her face. Walter stepped in front of her, ready to explain why they couldn’t be lovers, if she wanted an explanation.

[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]

That’s how certain he was. Shy, lonely Walter could talk about anything with her. That’s how much he loved her.

Heaven And sex, she could hear him telling her, with its thrill and thrall, came and went. If Walter and Amanda forgot who they were, if they pretended no father-daughter attachment, they would betray themselves and each other. She knew that. She knew how destructive her desire was.   

He gently shook her wrist, rousing her from the chair and she knew no matter how much they might want each other, past or present, indulging in sex would mean squandering their real love.

Casually—that’s how much control he had summoned—Walter draped an arm over her shoulder. “Don’t you want to see the turtles, Amanda? It’s late enough so that we might see the herons.”

Evie and DeeDee ran ahead, following the trail-markers Walter had shown them. Every few minutes, though, they stopped and turned around. Giggling. That’s what little girls did. She overheard Evie telling Walter, his hand on her head as she stared up at him, how her almost-step-dad had looked just like him.

He smiled. “Anyone ever tell you looks are deceiving?”

“So deceiving.” Evie grinned, the two in collusion.

Walter was seven years older than David, but you’d never know it. Walter was stronger. He stood straighter and his eyes and hair shined brighter. Amanda asked him to lead the way. She liked watching him march through the low slanting sunbeams weaving in and out among the trees. He called to Evie and DeeDee whenever he didn’t catch sight of them a few switchbacks ahead.

Did they see the mushrooms, the tiny frogs? He caught one for DeeDee but she didn’t dare touch it. “You’re right,” he said. “We don’t know how many people this baby’s had contact with. It’s early in the season. The smell of us touching him might make him an outcast.”

DeeDee bit her lip. “Huh?”

“Cooties,” Evie said, and Walter laughed, surprised cooties were still around. “They’re around,” Evie told him. “I know one girl who’ll have ’em forever.”

“What’s her name?”

“Neveah. Heaven backwards.”

“Do her cooties have anything to do with her name?” Walter asked.

“Nope. Another girl has the same name and she’ll never have cooties. Ne-vay-ah Grant— nevah. Ne-vay-ah Scott—forevah.”

Amanda wanted to sink through the forest ground—the sunlight between the treetops, the whirling sky, and the ones she loved, the only ones, sheltering her. If only she never had to move; if only nothing had to change.

A few minutes later, they strolled along the edge of a silent pond. Walter found a huge turtle but warned the girls not to get too close.

At the far edge of the water two herons stood, on one leg each. The girls wandered away from the water, hunting through the undergrowth for more frogs while Walter pulled Amanda close. They hovered there, father and daughter, watching and waiting for the birds to fly off.

Except now a supernatural light played on the dark water. Amanda pressed her face against Walter’s chest and shivered with more sensations than her body could hold. 

“Amanda,” he whispered, stroking her hair. No one but Walter knew how to say her name. No one but Walter should say her name. She grew faint and unreal with longing. He let go, moving away, and a tiny cry escaped from her throat, “No.” She’d do anything.

“Look at them.” The hand that a moment ago was stroking her head followed a pair of regal birds along an upward arc. The hand, whose weight and warmth sent waves of pleasure through her skin, dropped to her shoulder after the birds disappeared into the far distance.

Amanda stumbled backward for fear of adhering to him. Why was it again? She rubbed her eyes, refusing to see. Why couldn’t they be lovers? Because, Christ, she’d do whatever it took. Really. Anything.

(Click here to read the next episode.)

TrackBack

TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.typepad.com/t/trackback/474701/28697570

Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Heaven Backwards:

Comments

Poor Amanda, wanting something you can't have and no you shouldn't have. The agony must be driving her insane and very emotional, if not even bipolar at certain points. Ups and downs go round and round.

Say, I like your blog!

This is gorgeous. Great picture too.

Thanks, Bosco, Zia, and Manictastic.

I wonder, Manic, about "Dreams Deferred." My sense is that Amanda would rather be suffering this than not. She may feel she can't stay so close to him; it's too hard. But no way she's leaving, either.

i am just so hoping walter isn't gonna go for one of the daughters instead,, making everything everyone ever said true,, and amanda well... where would that leave amanda......

Paisley, thanks for commenting. And, we'll see.

Really rich writing. I'm just dumbfounded. This should be within hardcovers and very prominently displayed in better bookstores everywhere. I would buy copies for all my friends and relatives.

Thanks, Dan. It's nice to think that could happen someday.

Oh, the sweet tension of the possible ... I'm enjoying this story!

Hi, just stumbled on to your blog. Awesome read!

John and Jennifer, I'm glad your found me and appreciate your interest in Amanda's story. I must be at about the mid-point because she's starting to keep me awake at night, fussing about what I should do next.

Post a comment

My Photo

How to Read This Blog

  • I post original fiction, polished as best I can within a daily time frame, except when stories need a little more development. On those days, non-fiction intrudes. On weekends and holidays, you will find excerpts from Diary of a Heretic, a novel I wrote years ago. Someday, I will rewrite my episodic posts but for now I am enjoying the experiment, and hope you will too. [Consider my posts as (C.) Kathleen Maher. Of course, if you contribute, your words belong to you.]
Bookmark and Share

Wits Extraordinaire

Wordsy.com Podcast

  • Click here to listen to Hans Dekker interviewing me for Wordsy.com.

Literary Networks

Why Not

Kula Yoga Project

  • Freestyle Vinyasa Yoga, NYC: Sweaty. Intelligent. Ecstatic. Click on the picture for classes, directions, workshops, etc.

Your email address:


Powered by FeedBlitz

Don't Miss:

  • The Underground Nest
    A novella about a philandering Scoutmaster who meets his match in a powerful woman.
  • 911
    A novella about a young widow, seeking to start a new life for herself and daughter, who becomes ensnared in a dangerous triangle.
  • The Vitruvian Man
    A novella about a 45-year-old man who finds himself in love with an 11-year-old girl.
  • Breast Cancer
    My sister's fight, and victory.
  • Cousins
    A story about two first cousins who have been in love with each other since childhood.
  • The Vagabond
    A novella about drug addiction, friendships lost and won, and learning the difference between true strength and false strength.

Notices

  • The 2007 Weblog Awards
  • Blog Awards Winner
  • The Breast Cancer Site

Reviews+Memes

Blogrush

Another Language

Save the Net

Blog powered by TypePad

Google ads