Criss Cross Read Free

Liz’s faces, that passed through him and altered the shape of his thoughts like water through a sandstone cavern. Like water on a dry sponge.
    It’s hard to say how long the moment lasted, but when it was gone, Hector knew that he wanted to learn to play the guitar.
    He said so to Liz, during a pause between songs. She smiled and said, “That’s a great idea. You should do it.”
    Liz was a nice person who said nice things. She had a way of making them sound true.
    With each performer who followed, even the ones Hector didn’t think were that good, the idea grew stronger in his mind. By the time the fluorescent lights flickered on overhead, it was a fact to him. A fact that made the world more alive and more interesting. More promising.
    People were standing up and putting coats on, there was a lot of chatter, and with all the dragging and colliding of chairs it was hardly even noticeable when Hector stood up and his lapful of forgotten peanuts cascaded to the floor. He had to walk on them to get around to the back of his chair. As he made his treacherous way over the rolling, crunching shells, he heard Chip/Skip/Flip say that everyone was going (somewhere, Hector didn’t catch that part), and was Rowanne coming? And he heard Rowanne say, “I can’t, I promised my parents I’d bring Hector home right afterward.” Inwardly, Hector snorted. Outwardly, he tried to look like someone who needed to be taken home.
    In the car on the way home, Hector and Rowanne were quiet for a while, waiting for the heater to kick in. Hector positioned his feet over the two holes in the floor, to keep the heat from whooshing directly from the vent to the outside. It was a dark night, and Rowanne was a tentative driver. Being in a car with her as she felt her way over the winding back roads was like being inside a flashlight held by someone searching for a contact lens.
    “So,” she said, after a while, “did you like it?”
    “Yeah,” said Hector. “I did. I liked it a lot. I think I liked the first guy the best.”
    “Yeah,” said Rowanne. “He’s really good.”
    “How long do you think it takes to learn to play like that?” asked Hector.
    Rowanne allowed her eyes to leave the road for a microsecond to glance at him.
    “I don’t know,” she said. “Years, probably. You better get started right away.”
    She relaxed as they moved into the streetlight-lit streets of Birdvale, then under the railway trestle into Seldem.
    Hector said, “So, I’m not mad or anything, I’m glad I went, but why didn’t you just tell me you needed me for an excuse not to go out with Chip-Dip?”
    “Skip,” said Rowanne. “I’m sorry. That was stupid. But would you have come?”
    “I don’t know,” said Hector. “Maybe. I would go now, though. Now that I know what it’s like.”
    When they reached their driveway, it was empty. So was the house. Their parents were still off somewhere. The lamps they had left on had lit up quiet, empty rooms all evening.
    There was some leftover ham in the fridge. They started cutting it into chunks and dipping it into a custard cup full of French dressing. The Swiss cheese dipped in mustard was also very good.
    “How come you don’t like Skip?” asked Hector. “He seems all right.” He went to a cupboard and found an open can of mixed nuts. Rowanne went to the fridge again and searched the shelves inside the door. She selected a tall, skinny jar of olives and the mayonnaise.
    “He’s all right,” she said. “He’s just not—”
    She paused to think. Hector stopped chewing. If Rowanne said something important, something he needed to know, he didn’t want to miss it.
    “He’s just not my type,” she said.
    “Oh,” said Hector. He had been looking for something more specific. For insight into the female mind. He was a little disappointed. But Rowanne wasn’t finished.
    “He looks at me with cow eyes,” she said. “I sort of liked it at first. But now it makes me want to slap him