Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
Somebody Else Who Could Have Been Us
Wednesday, March 28th, 2007
… and when we found out that in your parallel universe you barely knew each other, the letter went on, we were fit to be tied! Well, good luck (like you need it, ha ha!). That’s all for now, these things are expensive. — Jared and Bethany
“So,” Jared said, his heart beating fast. “Pretty crazy, huh?”
Bethany’s gaze flickered to and from Jared behind her glasses. Jared was distracted by the way her skin seemed to glow against the crisp linen of her blouse, by the sunlight turning the tiny hairs on her forearm golden.
“I don’t think we should see each other,” she whispered.
Jared leaned forward, realized he was acting proprietary, leaned back. The park bench creaked. “But Bethany … we … but doesn’t it sound perfect? We found each other there. Why not here, too?”
Bethany turned away, blinking, and shook her head. “They’re not us. They’re … somebody else who could have been us,” she said, not looking at him. She pulled her coat tight around her and picked up her purse.
“I’m sorry. I can’t fall in love just because a letter tells me to. I’m really sorry.”
Jared wanted to grab her arm or shout after her, but he didn’t have the right. Still, as she stood, he watched her knees straighten as though they were something that belonged to him, memorized the rhythm of her steps away from the bench. He knew she was just scared, caught off-balance. It was strange news to get all of a sudden. He’d keep after her, gentle but persistent, thoughtful, never pushing. Sooner or later, she’d realize they were meant to be together. Even having talked with her for just fifteen minutes, he could feel how right that was.
Bethany forced herself to walk slowly, not to look back. For two years she’d been invisible to him, and now, after ten minutes, he was in love.
She had to choke back a wondering laugh, remembering how little time it had taken her and the other Bethany to come up with the letter. She hoped things were going just as well in the other universe.
Duck Blind
Monday, March 26th, 2007
They sat in the duck blind, a little dizzy from the beer. Homer and Dan pointed their rifles lazily skyward while Les tried the duck call.
“That’s the best goddamn duck call I ever heard,” said Homer.
Les looked at Homer sideways and slowly put the duck call down.
“That was a good duck call, Les,” said Dan. “You got anything you want to tell us?”
They were interrupted as quacking rang out over the reeds and ducks burst into flight all around. Homer and Dan raised their shotguns, squeezing the triggers at almost the same time. Over the rushing and flapping sounds they could hear the hammers click, but neither gun fired.
Dan gawked at his gun while Homer swore and cracked his open, crammed in two cartridges of #2 duck shot, and snapped it shut. When Homer raised it again he saw Les rising into the sky, his arms straining and flapping at the air, quacking.
“Damn it, he fooled with the guns. He’s gone native!” said Homer. He brought the stock to his shoulder and sighted Les.
Dan gently pushed the barrel of Homer’s gun off target. Homer grunted, but he let the gun droop.
“If he wants to be a duck, let him be a duck,” Dan said. He snapped open a new beer and took a long pull.
“We’ll get him next year.”