D. MacHale - The Merchant of Death

“What’s up?” I said.

Okay, maybe I wasn’t ready to play just yet. It was easier to lob the ball back into her court. It was then that I noticed something weird. Courtney looked nervous. Not out of her mind scared or anything, but a little bit uncomfortable. My confidence soared. She was just as tense as I was. That was good.

“I know you’ve got to get to the game and all, I don’t want to make you late,” she said with a little embarrassed smile.

What game? Oh, right, the county semifinal. Somehow it had slipped my mind.

“I’ve got plenty of time,” I lied casually. “C’mon in.”

I was recovering nicely. As she walked past me to come inside I got that faint hint of rose fragrance. It took every ounce of willpower not to do a huge-old sucking inhale to try and grab every ounce of that wonderful smell. That would have been dumb and this was definitely not the time to do something dumb because Courtney was now inside my home. She was on my turf. I closed the door behind her and we were alone.

I had no idea what to do next. Courtney turned to me and I made contact with those amazing gray eyes. My knees went soft. I prayed she didn’t notice.

“I wasn’t sure if I should come here,” she said tentatively.

“I’m glad you did,” I shot back with perfect timing. I kept the ball in her court, yet still managed to make her feel at ease. I was on fire.

“I’m not really sure why I picked now to come. Maybe it was to wish you good luck in the game. But I think it’s more than that.”

“Really?” Perfect comeback.

“I’m not exactly sure how to say this, Bobby, but since we were kids, I’ve had this…feeling about you.”

Feeling? Feeling is good, unless she feels like I’m an ax murderer or something.

“Oh?” I shot back. Noncommittal, nonaggressive, perfect.

“Man, I feel like such a geek saying this.” She broke eye contact. I was losing her. I didn’t want her to chicken out so the best thing I could do was throw her a bone.

“Courtney, there are a lot of words that come to mind when I think of you, but ‘geek’ is definitely not one of them.”

She looked back to me and smiled. We were back on track.

“I’m not really sure how to say this, so I’ll just say it. There’s something about you, Bobby. I know you’re a brain and a jock and popular and all, but it’s more than that. You’ve got this, like, I don’t know, this aura thing going on. People trust you. They like you. And it’s not like you’re trying to show off or anything. Maybe that’s part of it. You don’t act like you think you’re better than everybody else. You’re just this really good guy”-she paused before going on, then the bombshell-“who I’ve had this incredible crush on since fourth grade.”

Nothing in my wildest fantasy could have prepared me for that. I was speechless. I hoped my mouth wasn’t hanging open in stupefied shock.

“I’m not really sure why I’m telling you this now,” she went on. “But I have this weird feeling that if I didn’t, I might never get the chance again. And I wanted to tell you how I felt…and do this.”

That’s when it happened. The kiss. She stepped forward, hesitated a second to see if I’d stop her, (yeah right, like there was danger ofthat happening), and we kissed. I won’t rehash the details, but suffice it to say I was a happy guy. It was the most amazing thirty seconds of my life.

It was the thirty-first second when it all came crashing down.

My eyes were closed, but I could see a whole future full of Courtney and Courtney’s kisses. I don’t know if it’s possible to kiss and smile at the same time, but if it is, I did. And then I opened my eyes, and it was over.

“Hi, Bobby.”

Uncle Press was standing there! Where didhe come from? I pulled away from Courtney so fast that she still had her eyes closed. Actually, she looked kind of goofy for a second like she was kissing air, but she recovered fast and believe me, I didn’t laugh.

“Uncle Press! Hi!” I probably should have said, “Yo!” that’s how stupid I felt. I’m not sure why, either. We weren’t doing anything wrong. We were just kissing. Granted, it was the big-league kiss of all time, but it was still just a kiss. Once Courtney realized what was happening, she went from zero to full-tilt embarrassed. She wanted to be anywhere but there, and I wanted to be there with her. She backed toward the door.

“I…uh…I better go,” she stammered.

“No, don’t go.” I didn’t want to take the heat alone, but Uncle Press had other things on his mind.

“Yes. You should go.” Short, blunt, simple as that. Something about the way he said it made a red flag go up in my head. This didn’t sound like Uncle Press. Normally he’s the kind of guy who would think catching his nephew macking was pretty funny. In fact, that’s exactly what happened when he caught me making out with Nancy Kilgore on the back porch. He just laughed. I was embarrassed as hell, but he got a real charge out of it. He’d bring it up every once in a while, just to jazz me. But not in front of anybody else, which made it okay. This time was different though. This time he wasn’t laughing.

“Good luck tonight. I’ll be cheering,” said Courtney as she took a step…and walked square into the door. Ouch. Uncle Press leaned over and opened it for her. She gave him a quick, embarrassed nod of thanks, then shot me a look with the slightest hint of a sly smile. Then she was gone. Uncle Press closed the door and looked at me.

“I’m sorry, Bobby, but I need your help. I want you to come with me.”

Again, this didn’t sound like Uncle Press. He was a loose kind of guy. My guess was he was in his fifties, but he didn’t act like a geezer. He was always goofing around, never seemed to take things all that seriously. But tonight, he was dead serious. In fact, it almost seemed as if he looked a little…scared.

“But, I got a game. County semis. I’m already late.”

“You didn’t seem too concerned about that a few seconds ago,” he shot back.

Good point. But I really was late, and it was a big game.

“Mom and Dad are already there with Shannon. If I don’t show up-”

“They’ll understand. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was more important than a basketball game…or kissing that beautiful girl who just left.”

I was prepared to argue on that last point, but man, he was acting pretty intense. It was weird. Then, as if he were reading my mind he said, “Bobby, you’ve known me all your life. Have you ever seen me like this?”

I didn’t need to answer. Something was definitely up.

“Then you know how serious this is,” he said with absolute finality.

I didn’t know what to do. At that very minute there was a team waiting for me to help them win a county title. Not to mention a family, friends, and an almost-girlfriend who would be expecting me to trot out onto the court. But standing in front of me was a guy who was my own flesh and blood who needed my help. Uncle Press did a lot for me as I was growing up and never asked for a single thing in return. Until now. How could I turn him down?

“You promise to explain things to my coach, Mom and Dad, and Courtney Chetwynde?”

Uncle Press actually gave a small smile, just like he used to, and said, “They’ll understand.”

I tried to think of any other reason why I shouldn’t go with him, but came up empty. So with a sigh I said, “All right then, let’s go.”

Instantly Uncle Press opened the front door. I shrugged and started out.

“You won’t need that bag,” he said, referring to my pack. I’m not sure why, but that sounded strange, and a touch ominous.

“What’s this all about Uncle Press?”