Island of Men

Chapter 10- "The Lord has blessed us with FIRREEEEE"

"The Lord has blessed us with FIRREEEEEE," wailed David as he danced around the signal fire. He liked flame.  Well, he liked sources of heat, due to the fact that he was constantly a few degrees colder than the average person.  Maybe it was due to his body heat, maybe it was because he was alone.  It was definitely one of those things.  

Emma rolled her eyes.  David was pleased to see her react, even if it was in a snotty manner.  He just wanted to watch her react.  To see what she thought, never to argue- but to discuss.  To just talk about darn things and find where they disagreed and where they coincidentally agreed. 

But he'd never get the chance.

See, here's the thing- David had messed it up.  He knew that he had, too.  Four years ago, Emma had joined his class.  That was back in the day when he had skater-boy hair and got as close to swearing as a homeschooler gets to wearing Little House on the Prairie dresses.  He hadn't really had any friends, in fact he had thought himself above the rest of the members of his class. There they were, interested in Song of Roland, and Hymns, and all he wanted to do was get out, learn to play the guitar, and spend every minute possible outside.  

Emma had been different.  It wasn't the gushy sort of sepia-toned first meeting, where she knocked his socks off.  She had, however, rolled his socks down- and that was impressive. Emma broke the barrier, she spoke to him first, she was willing to sit by him and talk to him without shaming him.  And he liked that. 

So, he did what every aching thug does- he asked her to kiss him in the back of a movie theater. Sadly, she declined.  They hadn't really spoke since.  That had been four years ago.

David was different now, and so was Emma.  In those four years, he had gone from swag to Swarthmore, and he cared more about his GPA and sperry shoes than his rap music.  Emma had become funnier.  She snorted when she laughed, well, if the joke was a pun.  She wore her hair down, and she had slimmed down.  Not that he had ever thought her chunky- just that she was better.  Each year, in fact.  And he had botched it, before he even had a chance.

Darn.  

So there he was, galumphing around a giant flame-filled pit just to get her attention.  He felt like an idiot, but what other choice did he have?  

So there the boys were, skipping around the fire, and there Emma was leaning against a nearby palm tree, feeling wholly happy and laughing her way to a six-pack.  

She played with a mango, digging her fingernails into the peel, and slipping the down the side, until the flesh of the mango was revealed.  Boy, she loved mangoes.  The three boys paused to take a breath.

"I wish I had my guitar," moaned David.  Freshman David would be proud of Senior David, who had honestly impressive guitar skills, which tended towards Jack Johnson and Country music. Emma wasn't a fan of Country music, she felt like it was the the leftover butternut squash of the music world.  

"Who needs a guitar, when you've got coconut shells?"  Miles whipped out a few of the cracked open shells, clopping them together in a sound that resembled an approaching horse.  David snapped a few twigs and drummed them against the side of Emma's tree.  Luke drummed his stomach.  The music resembled a Bob Marley song, which was simultaneously hilarious and impressive.  

"Woman.  Sing for us," commanded David as he drummed in triple beat.  

"Yes!  Sing Goddess!"  Luke agreed.

"I can't just belt out Marley or whatever ruckus you are playing."  Emma had sung in musicals before, but hadn't really been the bard at any kind of social gathering.  She was trying to wiggle out of it.  The only people she'd ever met who enjoyed singing in front of people were attention mongers and needed a mental checkup. 

"Sing. Sing. Sing. Sing."  Chanted the boys, as Emma blushed the color of a tickle-me-Elmo.  Thankfully, it was twilight and she didn't have to worry about blushing about her blush.

"Emma just pick a song that you know well," conceded Miles.

She did like You and I by Ingrid Michaelson.  But that seemed a little cheesy, and goopy.  

"Don't you worry there my honey, we might not have any money, but we've got our love to pay the bills.  Maybe I think you're cute and funny- maybe I want to do what bunnies do with you, if you know what I mean.  Oh let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France.  Let's get rich and buy every body nice sweaters and teach them how to dance.  let's get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants.  Way up there, you and I.  You and I."

Emma didn't blush as she sang, because she closed her eyes and she knew the song by heart. For once, the boys were silent. Well, for the first verse.  For the second, they stomped their feet, and drummed, and danced around the fire.  

"My lady, would you care for a dance?"  Asked David, as he took a knee before Emma.  She stood hesitantly, and her ankle felt as good as it ever would.  She curtsied low and sarcastically, he bowed in the same fashion.  Miles took over with a classy six count swing beat.  Luke copped the coconuts.  David and Emma were hardly familiar with swing dancing, so they did what they always did- faked it.  

There was some suave spins and dips, that were extemporaneous if all truth was told, and soon Miles tapped David on the shoulder, and took over.  A twitch of frustration crossed David's countenance for a second, but he simply lowered his shoulders, dropped her hands, and went and sat down.  Luke and David took up the drumming.  

"Miles.  Dancing?  Can I believe my eyes?" Miles wasn't really a regular attendee to the school dances.  He was the sort to haunt the punch bowl and constantly be called around fixing the lights or such.  Emma was surprised.

He raised his eyebrows like a hairy elevator, heading to the fourth floor.

"I'm full of surprises, Señorita."  He winked and dipped her.  Emma chucked.  The drummers' beats seemed more passive aggressive with every passing moment.  

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That was three times in a week, right?

Who am I kidding.

To each and every one of you readers, BLESSS YOU. 

I'd love to hear what you think.

-ClutsyNerd