Godspeed

Chapter Four

There wasn't much for Marley Mason on the tiny edge of Bayside. Sure, he had his father as well as Jah-Jah's Jamaican Jerk Foods but those were things that already belonged to him without him ever having to seek them out. Marley wanted trees to sit in and watch the world around him go dark, or rivers to scoop up crabs in his hands only to let them go in the end. Miami didn't have those things. It had tall concrete walls and trees that were not the kind you were supposed to climb, but take pictures of and send to your friends. It had oceans bigger than life that no one really swam in but stood where the waves sputtered on the sand and pretended to play.

He supposed, for a lot of people, that was enough.

The thought had preoccupied him as he mechanically took orders and served them to their respective tables in Jah-Jah's Jamaican Jerk Foods. It was always the same people who called themselves explorers and adventurers that ordered the same thing every day and scrunched their faces up at the mention of oxtail or callaloo. They think going to the beach is adventure? They should try dipping under the harsh ends of waterfalls or lighting coal stoves among trees, watching the smoke join the baby blue sky.

Once, a very long time ago, Marley found their ignorance adorable, like a puppy just learning to walk. But to consider them as a puppy was to expect them to grow and come to terms. These people were more like stationed rottweilers at a front door, chained to the house they knew all their lives and angry at everyone who attempted to get inside.

But Marley Mason did not feel that looking at Ava DeLoughery. Everything about her reminded him of home, like an open door with a soft mat sitting by the verandah and, if he could for a moment stop the slamming of his heart against its ribcage, he would walk directly over to where he saw her sitting in the restaurant and enter her familiarity. But, alas, Marley's feet were sealed to the floor with the same brand of glue that had permanently closed his throat.

Ava wasn't too far either. She was slouched in the boothe she had unofficially claimed in the past few days, swiping through her phone without the slightest clue of how she made the loc-haired waiter behind her feel. Right then, Marley began to think of the ways he could snatch her attention and hold on to it the way a moth urged to graze unfiltered light. He pushed his locs out of his face and downed what was left in his water bottle.

*

When his lunch break finally arrived, Marley walked over to Ava's table and plopped a tray directly in front of her. She jumped and Marley quickly caught her close the app on her phone and switch the screen off.

"Jesus, Marley," she breathed, "You scared me."

He smiled and sat across from her.

When his gaze mocked her for a few more seconds, she added, "What? I'm a little jumpy, okay? Is that a crime?"

Her attention then snapped to the tray in front of her and the steaming festivals sticking out from it. Her face lit up and she snatched one.

Scribbling quickly on his notepad, Marley held up the page for her to see. I thought you were a badass.

"Oh, I am," she said quickly, her left cheek stuffed with the other half of the festival she was waving in her hand, "Badasses can be jumpy too. Ten bucks Rihanna pees herself a little every time a balloon pops."

Marley laughed proudly.

"So," Ava began, "what does it take for you to start talking to someone? Can I ask that?"

Marley shrugged.

"Is it a trust thing or like fear or—"

Marley's eyes skittered to his right to look out out the window next to them.