Tapping a finger from my free hand on the page, I silently urged him to finish the story. Understanding what I wanted, Levi took a deep breath and recounted, “Then one night everything changed for the lovers.” Leaning in, I listened as hard as I could. “Leander set off for his swim, same as he did every night. As he swam, Hero’s lamp shone brightly in her window, guiding him to her shore, when a storm suddenly rolled in on Hellespont.” My hand tightened on Levi’s arm; he kept an equally tight hold of my hand.
“As Leander swam harder, striving to reach Hero, the violent wind suddenly blew out the lamp. The wind was too strong for the light to remain lit. Hero had to watch, as Leander with no light for a guide, fell under the waves, lost in the dark.” Coldness ran down my spine at the sad tale. Levi flicked back to the page with the painting and pointed at the images of the drowning couple. “Hero, unable to stand losing the man she loved so deeply, threw herself in the stormy waters to join him.” Levi paused, turned to me, and said, “Hero and Leander both drowned in Hellespont. Her light guided him to her every night, but when it died out, so did their lives.” Levi blushed and finished by saying, “But their love never did die out. It was passed to posterity by becoming a legend.” He shrugged and then smiled shyly. “At least it did in mythology, inspiring artists to paint their story, and poets to immortalize them in words.”
At the mention of poets, my head jerked up and Levi noticed. His fair eyebrows pulled down and he asked, “You like poetry?” Without writing an explanation, I merely nodded my head.
Levi squeezed my hand, and with his free hand, he flicked over the pages of his book until he stopped at a poem. Pointing at the page, he explained, “This is the most famous, Hero and Leander by Christopher Marlowe.” I craned my head to read it.
Levi, seeing my interest, moved the book until it was in front of where I was sitting. Without waiting, my eyes scanned the page, devouring the poetic prose.
On Hellespont, guilty of true love’s blood,
In view and opposite two cities stood…
The poem was long and extremely detailed, every word laced with perfection and flawless beauty. I was captivated by each and every line, the story of the two lost lovers brought alive, their intense love burning in my heart.
Breathless, I finished the last line, a tear rolling down my cheek. I hadn’t realized I had been so affected until Levi’s gentle thumb wiped the tear from the apple of my cheek.
I bathed in Levi’s soft gaze and became enraptured. His thumb was still on my cheek, when he gently asked, “You liked it?”
A nervous laugh bubbled from my throat. I nodded my head. Levi’s hand dropped and his head tilted to the side. I had no idea what he was thinking.
Turning my head, I scanned the poem one more time. I flicked the page and studied the painting, then kept skimming through the book, reading random passages from various myths. After the eighth passage, I sat back in my chair and looked at Levi who was watching me in fascination. I stared back at this boy, and taking my pen, wrote on my pad. “You’re really smart.”
I held it out for Levi to read and watched his skin tint pink. Levi sat back and shrugged. I wrote again. “You are. Really smart, I mean.”
As the light faded from Levi’s face, I thought I’d said something wrong. Panic that I’d upset him ran though me, until he confessed, “I’m not real good at speaking to people, Elsie. I don’t go out much or talk much.” The red on his face descended to cover his neck and patch on his upper chest.
My hand on his arm flipped over and my fingers threaded through his. Levi watched our joined fingers, then my free hand as I pointed to my chest and held up two fingers.
“You too,” Levi translated my meaning and I nodded my head.
Levi pointed to the mythology book and said, “I guess I’m pretty smart; I always enjoy study. But I know more than most because I don’t go to parties or go out with my friends much. I tend to stay in here and study when I’m not on the football field.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I had written, “No girlfriend?”
Levi’s cheeks, this time, turned positively scarlet and he shook his head. He didn’t say anything in response, but I took it that, like me, he didn’t mix much with the opposite sex.
Squeezing his hand until he looked up at me, I repeated the action of pointing to myself, and holding up two fingers. Levi exhaled as in relief, and whispered knowingly, “You too.”
I smiled an understanding smile, and we both sat in silence. I had no idea what to do next, and I could see Levi searching for something, anything, to say. “Elsie?” I met his eyes when he finally did. “Did you finish high school?”
Feeling the blood drain from my face, I acted on instinct and tried to stand and leave the room. But Levi kept hold of my hand. “Elsie, wait,” he said, and gently held my arm. Shamed, I turned in his direction and he explained, “I didn’t ask that to make you feel bad.” He shifted on his feet, and said, “I ask because I think you’re smart too. And…” He sucked in a breath, and rasped, “and I think you deserve more from life than you’ve had so far.”