A Place In This Life

Chapter 14

I was in awe of Alex and all that he offered, wishing at times that he had been the first one I'd met, instead of Todd. Then it would have been an easier, more normal relationship, complete with kissing, hand-holding, courting and the inevitable prom date. And if we happened to do it, it would only be a part of how things naturally moved along.

Instead, I had it hard and fast from the get-go, watching things with Todd progress toward a physical connection that felt magnetic yet distant. The possibility of falling into Todd's desire to have all of me to himself was irresistible. Like putting off something satisfying in order to experience the peak of gratification when you finally get it. The pain of knowing and waiting was unbearably delicious, and although it was already too hard to deal with, I knew that I would have to back-off from Alex, rather than entangle myself in extra complications.

Yet, I did not want to back away forever, as I was transfixed with Alex's beauty and mild-mannered sense of self. Now that the weekend movie date was over, Alex felt more comfortable and romantic around me, sneaking a kiss here and there, but we never got into it again like we had on the beach. All the better, because it would have made it that much more difficult to be clear and open for a rendezvous with Todd.

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The way I understood it, Baja trucks were built to fly up sand dunes and jump-off small peaks, landing on super-mega shock absorbers and then spinning out to head back for more. Certainly a good choice for Todd.

After he screeched into my driveway and set his squeaky parking brake, Todd jaunted for the door and, with a loud knock, announced his presence to my family. My parents stood chit-chatting about how nice it was to see him again and asked how he felt while also taking notice of his appearance — skinny black jeans added bulk to his legs, while a long-sleeve, baggy motor-cross t-shirt helped his frame appear more filled-out.

Todd seemed happy to talk with Brett and Em, as he called them, but I'd never had patience for small talk, enduring it this time for his sake.

"We better get going," I said, looking at my watch three times in three minutes.

The truck smelled like an ancient Las Vegas casino mixed with old shoes and a hint of used gum melting in the door pockets. I wondered as I sat in the passenger seat how many other girls had sat there, and how many had done more than merely sit.

The wind was tangling the tree leaves, and I was glad I'd grabbed a jacket, even though I didn't know where we were headed. I hoped that I trusted Todd enough to be alone with him.

He slid into the driver's seat and flashed a power grin. The engine roared like a race car with the muffler lopped off. After a few revs, he popped the Baja into gear and we immediately defied the speed limit as we cruised the freeway, weaving in and out of traffic.

"We're going out on the Ortega Highway," he finally said. "I used to drive it to Temecula all the time."

"You know people out there?"

"I did," he replied.

I realized Todd was probably one of the many people who ignored the "Do Not Pass" signs that lined the Ortega. Its two-lanes were tight in places, and passing a slow car was asking for it. My stomach lurched with every claustrophobia-inducing twist and turn.

"Hope you like turkey sandwiches," said Todd, eyeing the small cooler on the floor of the truck. He planned to feed us in total isolation off the side of the road, down one of the Ortega's dirty fingers that lead to rattlesnakes, bikers and, on occasion, a body or two.

We cruised past a pack of hangliders, crouched and ready to take flight over Lake Elsinore — a polluted blue-green expanse that filled the brown hole that was the city. At last, Todd pulled the truck over and up onto a jutting cliff that was too close to the edge for comfort.

"Let me out of the truck! You're too close to the edge!!!" I fumbled with my seatbelt, my fingers turning rubbery in my escape attempt.

"Nally, we're perfectly fine. I know how to drive my truck," he said, trying to take my hand. I fell back into my seat, breathing hard, my heart skipping beats behind burning lungs.

Heights and the possibility of falling brought me instant vertigo. In a dizzy haze, I finally got the seatbelt unbuckled and exited the truck. But that wasn't any better, because I was now standing close to the edge of the rocks, looking out over Lake Elsinore. Todd popped his head out of the window.

"Does that make you feel any better?"

"No!" I said, climbing back into the truck. Todd had the silliest look on his face, amused with my wacko behavior. Then he leaned over and kissed me quickly on the lips.

"You're nuts."

"I must be to go for a ride with you," I replied, trying to quell my panic with thoughts of how breathtaking the view was. Blue sky, cool and clear, a few thunderheads hovering in the distance near the desert. A lone hawk circled the canyon below. My heart was still going too fast for its own good.

"Wanna try getting out again? I'll hold your hand," he said.

"I'm not sure if that will help, but sure."

Todd came around the truck and grasped my hand, leading me closer to the canyon's edge than I was comfortable with. He squeezed my hand in response to my trembling.

"Before I went to the doctor to find out why I felt like shit, I came here to think. I'll never forget the song that was on the radio... Dust in the Wind. Do you know that song?"

"Yes, my parents have that record," I said, bringing the sad, solemn lyrics to mind.

"That song was exactly what I was going through," he said, closing his eyes. He started to sing softly.

"I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone. All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity. Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind."

I kept quiet until he opened his eyes, at first looking out over the lake and then at me.

"It's true, Nally. All we are is dust in the wind. It doesn't matter what we are doing here, because we all die, whether we like it or not."

"I don't think we should make dying the focus of our lives while we're living," I said. He let go of my hand to put his arm around me.

"When I have someone like you to be with, it makes dying go away," he said, turning toward me and drawing me close. His body felt warm, and although not as skinny as when we first met, his ribs still poked me when we hugged.

He lifted my face to his and gently kissed me. His hands ran up and down my back as I latched mine around his neck, smoothing the back of his hair.

We moved back against the truck. My stomach melted into the sandy earth when Todd began kissing my neck, up behind my ear and then back to my collar bone, stopping for a moment to speak.

"I wanna see you when I'm done with my next treatment," he said, kissing my neck again. A hot chill ran down through my legs.

"When is it?"

"Two weeks," he said, his lips releasing my flesh. He wrapped me in a bear hug and we stayed that way for a long time, staring at the distant San Bernardino Mountains.

"So, what do you think?" he said.

I had plenty of hospital visits under my belt, but that wouldn't be enough preparation for watching chemicals drip into Todd's chest.

"Are friends allowed to be there when they do it?"

"My mom usually is, but I'd like you to come with me this time."

"Don't you get sick from it?"

"Usually. You'd need to bring bags and towels in the car, just in case," he said, taking my hand. His eyes delved into mine, asking me without words to visit the world he was in. "I try to keep it down until I get home, but I'm not always that lucky."

"I can go with you," I said, thinking it wouldn't matter if I was missing from school for one day.