There Are No Words

Chapter 2

Cian

Earlier, when I came out onto our porch, I looked down the road towards Jenny's cabin. I saw her and Siofra talking to Walker. Thank goodness for short shorts. That's all I can say. When Siofra bent over to stretch, my mouth went dry. At least I hadn't drooled all over myself before getting back inside to wait for Walker's help.

Behind me our front door opens and bangs shut. I turn around and mouth to Walker that Dad is on the line. "Ok, Dad, Walker just came in. Here he is." I hand the phone to my brother.

"Yeah, ok, Dad, give me a minute" I hear Walker reply. "We'll go downstairs and check, and I'll call you right back." He pushes the off button on the phone and turns towards me.

"I need your help for a second, Cian," Walker says. He follows my line of sight out the window and down the drive. "Come on," he continues. "It won't take long, and we can come back out; see what they're up to."

When we're working downstairs a few minutes later my mind is preoccupied.

"Cian. Earth to Cian. Are you in there?" Walker asks, snapping his fingers in my face to bring me back to the present.

"What, man?" I ask, annoyed.

"The flashlight. Can you hold it a little bit closer and angle it slightly back? Yeah, like that. Stay right there."

I'm helping Walker with our breaker box. Dad's working on the electric in our house and needs a particular part for the circuit box. Walker and I are trying to see the tiny print on one of the parts. Since the breaker box is old, and is in the back of our basement where hardly any light is, I hold our flashlight, while Walker reads the numbers to our dad over the phone.

"OK, you can turn it off now, Cian. I got what he needed," he says, dusting his fingers off onto the sides of his jeans and hanging up with our father.

"Thanks," he says.

"Yeah, sure, Walker," I growl. "Anytime."

"Hey, what's up with you, Cian?" Walker asks, grabbing my sleeve before I can make my way back up the stairs.

I let out a long sigh and shake my head. "Got my mind on something else, that's all."

"Uh-huh. Does that something else happen to be wearing short shorts and a red tank top today?"

"Shut up, Walker," I say shoving him. "It just so happens that it does."

"Mmm-hmmm. Well, why don't you go outside and talk to her then?" he asks.

"Ironic words coming from you, don't you think?"

"What?" Walker asks, confusion obvious across his face.

"Jenny. That's what." I reply poking him in his self-righteous chest.

Realization dawning, he just says "Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh,'" I chide him, calmer now. "Come on, big guy. Let's both of us go back up. It's going to be a warm day. We'll invite the girls to go down to Cold Creek with us; catch some fish. Afterwards, we can swim over at Foster's Pond with the usual gang. I hear they're all hanging out there later this afternoon."

"Alright, I'm in. Let's go."

We grab our fishing gear, and trudge up the steps, plan in the works. Looking back, I wonder what would've happened if I'd never made the suggestion to go.

Jenny

I can see Cian kicking rocks as I walk up the drive to his house. We live on a gravel road that's lined with a sparse number of small log cabin homes. The Graham's house is the last one on our drive. Our homes, while looking like cabins, have all the usual amenities that regular houses do, but you'd never know it from their exteriors. They are very rustic looking, complete with country gingham curtains and rocking chairs on our porches. Not far from our front door is a nearby lake that rocks lazily against a beachy, pebbled shore. The water's edge is far enough away that during heavy rains the water has somewhere to go besides up to our homes, but it is close enough that you can walk down to it whenever you want. I like sitting on a fallen tree that christens the nearest opening of the lake, near our cabin. It helps me think sometimes; the sound of the water lapping against the shore, rubbing against tiny seashells and various slate stones lining the basin's bottom.