Becoming Calder

CHAPTER FIVE


Eden



The next day, I settled in at the spring, my heart beating triple time, filled with hope that Calder would join me. He never did and as I hiked back to the main lodge, my mood was melancholy, lonely, and disappointed.
I had loved him for so long it seemed. But talking to him, getting to know him just a little bit made that love seem silly and juvenile—made up. He still made my heart beat out of my own chest and his beauty mesmerized me, but now the desire to know who he really was filled my thoughts.
I wanted to talk to him all day long, to hear that deep, throaty laughter that washed over my skin and made me shiver. His voice sounded like warm spring rain falling on a gravel road.
He didn't show the next day either, and so the third day when I sat down on my rock, sans snake, thank the gods, I didn't expect him to show. And so when he suddenly appeared at the rock entrance to the spring, I gasped out loud.
Calder smiled, and another boy with black hair appeared behind him, pushing him through so he stumbled and laughed.
The boy behind him bent over and put his hands on his knees and stood there for a minute obviously trying to catch his breath.
Calder nudged him and said, "Wimp," as he waded through the water and pulled himself easily up onto the large rock. I scooted over to make room for them.
"What's for lunch?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Lunch?" I put my hand over my mouth and then took it away. "Oh no! I told you to meet me for lunch and I didn't bring anything." I groaned and my cheeks heated. "I'm so sorry. How rude."
Calder laughed. "I'm teasing you, Morning Glory. We already ate." He nodded his head toward the black-haired boy now wading through the water toward us. He wasn't as tall as Calder, but the water still didn't come close to his shoulders like it did to my own.
The boy made it to the rock and pulled himself up on it with effort. Calder and I both moved over as he lay back, catching his breath again and massaging his side as if he had a stitch.
Calder chuckled. "Eden, this here sorry, out-of-shape person is Xander Garen."
"Out of shape? Who's out of shape? I walk miles every single day. I just don't jog straight downhill with heavy water containers on my shoulders. Ridiculous." Xander turned to me. "Lovely to make your personal acquaintance, Eden. I played Kick the Can with you once years ago. You probably remember me. I was the star of the game. Not that I particularly remember that game itself, but I was always the star, so it can safely be deduced I was that day as well."
I laughed. "I do remember that game, Xander, because it's the only game I ever played, and yes, you played very well, and so did Calder." I blushed when I looked over at Calder because, well, he was so handsome and I wanted to stare at him, and the way he was looking at me made me feel like he could read my mind. Xander narrowed his eyes, looking between us and then looked away.
"Right. Well, thanks for allowing us to share your oasis today. I had no idea this was here. When Calder told me about the spring, I assumed it was just a little water hole with a few rocks around it. You've been holding out on me, Calder." He winked and I smiled, looking back at Calder to find him staring at me with a strange expression on his face. He seemed to come out of a trance and his face broke into a smile, too, as he nudged Xander.
"Nah, I'd never hold out on you. You just never seemed interested."
Xander huffed out a breath. "Well you know I have so much excitement as it is, what with walking around the perimeter of Acadia a thousand times a day."
"It's an important job, just like every job here," Calder said, but there wasn't any emotion in his voice. We sat there for a minute silently until Calder cleared his throat and went on, "Anyway, I know I sleep better at night knowing a big, strong manly man such as yourself is in charge of my safety." Calder grinned at Xander and Xander chuckled.
"Who doesn't, Pretty Boy?"
I giggled, taking delight in their banter. It had been so long since I laughed and felt the lightheartedness of friendship. I wondered if I'd ever experienced it . . . before.
"So, Eden, what is it that you do everyday?"
I blushed and looked down. "I'm not allowed to do much, really. I practice my music and I study the Holy Book." I shrugged. "That's the extent of it." I let out a small, uncomfortable laugh. "Makes walking around the perimeter of Acadia a thousand times a day sound better, huh? You must think I'm the most pathetic person on earth."
There was silence for a minute and when I looked up, both Xander and Calder had matching surprised looks on their faces.
"You can't be," Calder finally said. "Xander already holds that title."
"So funny," Xander said as I giggled again. He elbowed Calder. "We'd never think that about you, Eden. You're the blessed one."
I felt my face heat slightly at the reminder I was different than them, and I cleared my throat, not knowing what to say.
"Seriously, you don't go to school?" Xander asked after an awkward moment.
I shook my head. "No. Hector says as the blessed one, the only thing expected of me is to be well-versed in his Holy Book."
"Well, that's true I suppose," Xander said slowly, spacing his words as if several could have been inserted between them.
Calder looked down and began tracing something on the rock, almost as if he was unconsciously drawing.
"Oh, I've wanted to ask you this forever," I said. "That day you and Xander were talking about the butterscotch candy beneath my window, what was it you were drawing in the dirt? It was only half done. I looked down on it for days, trying to figure out if it was a girl, or a horse, or . . . I thought maybe it might be a river for a few days, but then I was sure it was a—"
I stopped talking when Calder burst out laughing.
"What?" I demanded, looking over at Xander who was smiling, too.
"Nothing. You," Calder said, smiling in a way that made me feel warm. "You gave that dirt drawing a lot of thought."
I let out a small laugh on a breath. "I told you, my days are pretty boring."
"Oh, no, Eden, I was just teasing you. Uh, let's see . . . I'm sorry, I can't remember what I might have been sketching."
"Calder's constantly sketching," Xander inserted. "It's the bane of our teacher's existence. Anytime he's allowed near a writing instrument, it's like the gods possess him to sketch."
I tilted my head. "And yet he's not allowed to?" I asked.
They both shook their heads. "Workers aren't allowed to partake in the arts. That's only for the council members and their families."
"Why?" I blurted out, thinking of all the instruments, paints, charcoal, and paper kept at the main lodge. Hector was big on the arts. He was constantly insisting we practice, practice, practice and that the arts pleased the gods. I wasn't aware of the many rules the workers lived by, as our lives had always been kept so separate. I had seen for myself the fact that they didn't have electricity like we did at the main lodge, but I thought, other than our living conditions and that they tended to the work in our community, we participated in pretty much the same things. Of course, not counting the Holy Book, I wasn't educated in anything other than the arts, but that was only me. The council members' children were schooled in the usual subjects, just like the workers. It suddenly all seemed so confusing.
Calder shrugged. "We all have our jobs. My dad says each one is equally important." He was quiet for a beat and then continued. "They all balance the community."
I nodded and Xander looked away before looking back at Calder more seriously. "We should get back," he said.
Calder nodded, his eyes lingering on me. His eyelashes were ridiculously thick, his eyes a deep, rich brown. He tilted his head and pursed his lips as if he was considering something.
"I have an idea."
"Oh no," Xander said. "No good can come from this."
Calder glanced at Xander. "You haven't heard my idea."
"I stand by my statement."
Calder rolled his eyes and focused on me again. "What would you say if I offered to teach you the subjects you're not being taught in exchange for some art paper and paints?"
"Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa," Xander said, putting his hands up as if to ward off Calder's very, very bad idea. "Even worse than I thought. That's just asking for trouble, Calder."
"Look who's talking," Calder inserted, not taking his eyes off me.
"Yes," I blurted out. I did want to learn. I was hungry for it. But the truth was, I wanted to spend time with Calder and I was willing to do anything I could do to make that happen. I had surprised myself with my outburst though. I rarely interacted with people other than Hailey and her boys, and occasionally Hector, so why was it I could speak my mind with Calder? Perhaps it was because I'd spent so long with him in my own mind.
Calder smiled at me. "Okay," he said softly, not taking his eyes from mine.
Xander stood up. "All right, well, you two have fun sitting in the cellar."
Calder finally looked up at him. "The cellar would be worth it to finally get to draw on a big, clean piece of paper." He talked about paper like it was a delicious meal he couldn't wait to devour.
I bit my lip, not quite as sure now. The cellar was a very large, cavernous space under the main lodge where Hector would bring all two hundred or so of us at least once a year for a drill to prepare us for when the great floods came. I shivered just at the thought of standing in the cellar with all those bodies pressed together, feeling sick, scared, and claustrophobic.
There was also a small room down there with a heavy, metal door used during the rare time someone did something that went against Hector or the gods. They would be jailed for the amount of time it took for them to repent and then brought back up and made to sit to the side of the podium where Hector gave his sermons. They had to kneel on a piece of metal with little bumps on it from the beginning of Temple until the end. It wouldn't pierce the skin, but the look on the faces of those who had been punished that way, let me know it sure felt like it had after kneeling on it for two hours.
I never knew exactly what the transgressions were, but I watched those people—three since I'd come to live in Acadia—and I silently sent them strength as I sat behind Hector. I swore my own knees ached as I walked back up the aisle, away from them.
I came back to the present and Calder was still staring at me, waiting for my answer.
"I just . . . maybe Xander's right. The cellar seems . . ." My voice faded away as Calder's face fell. "Okay," I inserted quickly and nodded, unwilling to disappoint him. "I agree. When?" I took a deep breath. "I mean, when should we meet?"
His face broke into a grin, his straight teeth flashing. His grin transformed his face, making it, impossibly, even more beautiful. Butterflies flapped their wings in my belly. I'd seen him use his grin with others, but to be the recipient of it myself was thrilling. "Tomorrow?" he asked.
I nodded, smiling, too, probably looking slightly giddy. "Okay, tomorrow." I wanted to see him tomorrow, and every tomorrow after that.
"Okay." He studied me for a minute and I wondered what he was thinking. "I'll see you then."
"’Bye, Eden," Xander said, and jumped from the rock into the water. Calder followed behind him. They waded across the water and then walked up the small bank. My eyes wandered down Calder's muscular backside, clearly defined in the wet linen pants clinging to him. I caught myself and looked away, but before I could muster up any shame, my eyes were moving back again. Just before they ducked through the rock opening, Calder looked back at me and smiled once more. I was glad he couldn't see my blush from where I sat.

**********

The next day when I showed up at the spring, Calder was already lying back on the grass with his hands behind his head. I couldn't help the giddiness I felt to see him waiting for me.
"Hi," I said as I approached him, and he sat up. I took the large, canvas bag I had brought off my shoulder and put it down on the grass in front of him. He immediately pulled the large pad of paper out and looked up at me with a look of sheer happiness. My heart started beating triple time in my chest at the look of delight on his handsome face. He continued to rummage through the bag, and as he pulled the items out, he placed them neatly on the grass in front of him. There were several paint containers, four brushes, and a set of charcoal pencils.
"It was all I could take without making it obvious," I explained when he kept looking down at the items.
He looked up at me. "This is way more than enough. Thank you, Eden." He looked as if he wanted to say more, but was at a loss. He rubbed his hands on his thighs and said, "So what lesson should we start with today?"
"Why don't you draw something first?"
He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and started again. "You sure?"
I laughed. "Yes."
Calder chuckled. "Okay. Hey, how about this? How about we do both at once? I'll draw and give a lesson at the same time. I can multitask like that. You feel free to ask any question you want."
I tilted my head. "Okay, if you're sure that won't distract you."
He shook his head. "No. Remember, I'm used to drawing under my desk while listening to a lecture."
I laughed. "All right then."
He scooted until his back was against a rock and he was mostly in the shade, and leaned forward to grab the charcoal pencils and the pad. Then he brought his knees up and leaned the pad of paper against them.
"First tell me what you know."
I know I love you and you're the most beautiful boy I've ever seen.
I looked down, ashamed I didn't know much. I cleared my throat. "I know how to read. And that's really all."
I looked up to find his pencil still and see him studying me. "No math? No science?"
I shook my head again, scooting back so I was leaning against a rock, too.
Calder started sketching again. "Okay. So we'll start with the basics then."
And so we sat there as he sketched, and he taught me the basics of mathematics, addition and subtraction. I caught on quickly. Somewhere in my memory, I knew I had begun learning this before. It was hazy and unclear like all of my memories before this place. If I closed my eyes, I remembered a smell—like cleaning products and chalk—and I remembered being happy in that place, a school probably. But that was all I could muster.
After an hour or so, Calder set his pad down. "You'll be up to speed in no time," he said.
"Why exactly are you doing this?" I gestured my hand toward the paper. "I mean, other than for the exchange? Hector wouldn't approve of it, and we could both be punished. Why are you taking this risk?"
Calder studied me for a few seconds and then looked away, out at the spring. He bit his full bottom lip and his brow creased. Finally, he looked back at me and said, "Xander talks to the workers at the ranger station at the entrance to the state park a few miles from here."
I was surprised. We were strongly encouraged not to engage with other members of the "big society" where wickedness, evil, and imbalance prevailed. Except for the council members who worked, and Hector who went on pilgrimages when the gods ordained it, no one else had any reason or desire to venture from Acadia. Aside from the main lodge, we were totally self-sufficient, reliant on no one other than ourselves.
"He does?"
Calder nodded. "He's formed friendships with a few of them. When we were kids, we used to steal from the station. Or rather, Xander did the stealing; I just did the partaking. Anyway, a couple years back, he got caught red-handed. Only, instead of turning him in, the woman who caught him asked him what he liked best of all the things he was taking. He told her, and now sometimes she brings candy and other things just out of kindness." He looked away again, thinking. "I don't think every single person out in the big society is wicked and evil, Eden. Maybe some are, maybe most. I don't know. But, the point is, I don't think Hector's completely right about that." He shrugged. "And if he's not right about that, maybe he's not right about a few other things, too—like the fact that you shouldn't have an education. I know the gods talk to him, but he's also human."
We sat there, looking at each other silently. The small waterfall next to us provided gentle splashing sounds, and somewhere far away, a dog barked.
"It's why I have to get a place on the council," he said quietly. "I have to see what's out there, Eden. No matter how much time we have before the floods, I just have to know."
My heart was beating fast, not just because of Calder's closeness, but because talk like this simply wasn't done, at least as far as I had ever known. Something stirred deep inside of me, seeming to come to life.
"You trust me," I said, knowing he wouldn't have told me what he did if that wasn't the case.
He nodded once. "I started trusting you a long time ago."
Warmth and a fierce feeling of pride filled my chest. Being trusted by Calder Raynes made me feel more special than I'd ever felt in my whole life. "My parents were kind," I said. "I remember so little of them, but that's one thing I know. They were kind."
"Will you tell me about them?" Calder asked, very gently.
I sighed, struggling to remember. "They were both blond." I took a piece of my own hair between my fingers and then let it fall. "Surprising, right?" I smiled and so did Calder. "And um, my mother, she smelled like flowers." I closed my eyes and inhaled as my mind conjured up her sweet, delicate scent. When I opened my eyes a minute later, Calder's head was tilted as he watched me, and his eyes looked darker somehow. I swallowed.
"What else?" he whispered.
"I think my dad did some kind of work with other people's money. And my mom, she didn't work, at least not that I recall. We lived in Cincinnati, I do know that." I shrugged. "I know they were good friends with Hector. I remember him being in our home. I remember my mother telling me we were coming to live with him. Here I'm assuming. But then . . . they were gone, and it was only Hector and me in a different house for a long time, years maybe. That's it. I've tried so hard to remember more from the time before, but it simply won't come. And I was young, I suppose."
"Do you know how your parents died?"
"It was a car accident. That's all I know."
Calder had his bottom lip between his teeth again in that way he had when he was thinking hard about something.
"What?" I asked.
He let his lip free, licking along it with his tongue before responding. "Nothing. I'm just sorry you lost your parents is all."
I had the feeling he had been about to say something else, but didn’t. I nodded anyway and said, "Thank you."
"So," he said, starting to get up. "Tomorrow? Same time? Same place?"
I stood, too, and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. Um," I nodded toward the pad in his hands, "can I see your sketch?"
He looked down at it. "Oh. Yeah, sure." He turned it around and my breath caught.
He had sketched our—for suddenly that's what it was, ours—spring. He had only used charcoal pencil, but somehow it was lush and beautiful, the shadows and highlights hinting at the depth of color in the water, the rocks, the grass, and the sky. It was . . . breathtaking.
"Calder. You're . . . I've never seen anything that good. You've never had any lessons?"
He shook his head, watching me closely as if it mattered very much to him what I thought.
"You're just gifted, then. Very, very gifted." I felt awed by his talent and I was sure it must show in my expression.
He held it out to me. "It's for you."
I grinned, accepting it. "Thank you. Today, here with you, was a wonderful birthday gift." I began to carefully roll up the sketch so that I could carry it with me.
His expression took on surprise. "It's your birthday?"
I shook my head. "Tomorrow. I'll be seventeen. But this here," I hugged the rolled paper to my chest delicately, "is the best gift I could have ever asked for."
"No. No way. If I had known it was your birthday, I would have sketched one of you. A portrait." He smiled. "Tomorrow. On your actual day."
I smiled back. "Okay." I held up the canvas bag with all the supplies in it. "Should we hide this somewhere?"
Calder looked around and then took the bag from me and walked it over to a group of rocks to his right, placing it between two rocks sitting at an angle so it was like a mini-cave. He picked up a rock next to him and put it directly in front of the opening so it couldn't be seen.
We walked up the trail and when we got close to the top, he stopped and nodded at me to go before him so we wouldn't exit together.
When I got back to the main lodge, I walked quietly upstairs and unrolled the sketch of our spring, looking at it for several long minutes before rolling it back up again. I hid it in the far corner under my bed, and I stowed my time with Calder in a quiet, private corner of my heart.
I hadn’t been completely certain Calder would return today, whether he would decide it was too risky, or if he would decide he wasn't interested. And yet he had. His patience was unending as he taught me basic math. I hadn’t felt stupid, or ashamed as I started to grasp what must seem like such elemental things to him. It felt good to learn, to stretch my mind further than its normal boundaries. And as I went to bed that night, my heart felt full.