Read Tools of Ignorance: Lisa's Story Online

Authors: Barbara L. Clanton

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Tools of Ignorance: Lisa's Story (26 page)

Tara smirked. “Yeah, whatever you say, Lisa.” She dismissed her with a wave of her hand and slammed into Lisa’s shoulder as she stormed down the trail toward camp.

“Oh, yeah,” Lisa called after her, “that was mature, Tara.”

Tara didn’t turn around.

Lisa took a couple of deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She slid open her phone and hit the redial button.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

Have a Nice Life

 

 

IT WASN’T UNTIL Lisa had tromped all the way back to her dorm room that Sam’s words sank in. “Susie was my first.” Dazed, Lisa locked the door behind her and flopped onto the bed. Did Susie try to make Lisa look like an idiot at D’Amico’s on purpose? Why? Was she jealous? Susie had Marlee now. It didn’t make sense.

And geez, that time they all went to Northwood for dinner and then to the movies. After the movie, Susie drove them to Lake Birch. Lisa cringed when she remembered how hot and heavy she and Sam had gotten in the back seat. Susie must have heard everything. Lisa wondered if she might have taken it cooler if she’d known Susie was Sam’s ex. Of course, Susie made out with Marlee in the front seat right in front of them, too, so what did it matter?

Lisa’s eyes grew wider. Marlee didn’t know that Susie and Sam used to go out. Did she? Lisa yanked the soft cast off her hand and flexed her cramped fingers. Her hand was healing, she could feel it, but she was getting dog tired of it. She was getting dog tired of trying to figure everybody else out, too.

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and redialed Sam’s number for the tenth time since her confrontation with Tara in the woods. The call went right to voicemail, so she left another message similar to the last nine. As calmly as she could, she said, “Sam, I’m sorry to blow up your phone like this, but I love you. Tara is nobody. I promise. You can trust me. I mean that. I don’t even know what I ever saw in her. She’s not the same person I thought she was, and there is no way in hell I would ever be with her again. Please, please, please believe me. I want you to come with me to William’s wedding. I want…” She wasn’t sure how to voice her feelings to Sam, so she took a moment to regroup. “I want us to be together, Sam. Now, next year, forever. I want—”

The phone beeped indicating that Lisa had filled up her allotted voicemail time. Lisa slid her phone closed and laughed. Maybe it was better that she had gotten cut off. She had been about to say, “I want us to have babies together and raise a family.” That might have sent Sam running for the hills.

She sat up and checked her watch. She had fifteen minutes before she had to meet Coach Greer on the lower field. Thankfully Tara had been assigned to Coach Johnson, and they would be separated all afternoon.

By the time the afternoon session ended, Lisa was tired and her hand ached. Coach Greer dismissed the campers, but Lisa stayed behind to help her store the equipment in the shed behind first base. As they headed back toward the dorms, Coach Greer grumbled about somebody leaving a ball lying in left field.

“I’ll get it, Coach,” Lisa said and headed toward it.

“Thank you, Lisa. You’re such a big help to me this summer.”

“Thanks. I wish I could play, though.” She held up her achy hand.

Coach Greer smiled sympathetically and gestured toward the dormitory. “Listen, I’m already late for the coaches’ meeting, so I’m going to keep on going, okay?”

“Sure, Coach. I’ll see you later.”

Coach Greer nodded and headed toward the dorms by herself. Lisa sprinted to left field, snagged the yellow ball, and ran back with it to the equipment shed. She put the ball in the bucket and was just about to step out of the shed, when she heard Tara’s voice. Panicked, she dove back behind the door praying Tara hadn’t seen her. She peeked out of the crack of the slightly opened door.

Tara stood on the road talking with Brandy, the shortstop from Elmira.

“C’mon,” Tara said to Brandy. “I want to show you something.”

“Shouldn’t we get those balls for Coach Johnson?” Brandy hesitated at the path into the woods.

“I want to show you something first. C’mon.” Tara headed down the trail, and Lisa wanted to shout out to Brandy, “No, don’t do it! Worst mistake of my life,” but held her tongue. Brandy followed Tara like a puppy dog.

“God,” Lisa mumbled, “is that what I looked like last summer? All innocent and gullible?” Lisa debated going out to spoil Tara’s fun, but Brandy was a big girl and could take care of herself.

Lisa waited until they were well out of sight and then flew out of the shed and sprinted toward the dorms like she’d hit an in-the-park homerun. On the way, she decided she didn’t want any part in finding out if her gaydar had been right about Brandy.

 

 

LISA SAT ON the curb waiting for her mother, her suitcases stacked behind her. A full week of camp had come and gone, and Tara had pretty much left her alone after their confrontation in the woods that Monday. The evening after the confrontation, it became painfully obvious that Tara and Brandy had hooked up. Lisa cringed watching Brandy follow Tara around. Lisa knew that she’d probably done the same thing the summer before.

Lisa thought it was ironic that Tara broke up with her because they lived too far apart. Tara must be geographically challenged because Elmira, where Brandy lived, was pretty far away from Brookhaven, Long Island, too. And besides, Tara would be heading off to college in the fall. Lisa shook her head. What did she care what Tara did anyway? That was so past tense, it wasn’t even funny. She was more concerned with her present tense, anyway. She pulled her phone out of her shirt pocket and slid it open.

“Sam,” she said into the voice dial. Every day, three or four times a day, Lisa left Sam either a voicemail message or a text message. Her call went immediately to voicemail again, and she wasn’t surprised.

“Hi, Sam. It’s me. Again. It’s noon on Saturday, and I’m sitting on the curb waiting for my mom to pick me up from camp. I think about you all the time, and I miss you. I’m sorry you don’t trust me. Can we talk? Can I meet your family? Can I meet Helene? I want to know everything about you.” She looked around to make sure she had privacy and said quietly, “I can’t think about living my life without you, Sam.” She hesitated and added, “Don’t worry. I’m not suicidal or anything.” She laughed softly into the phone for Sam’s benefit, even though she wasn’t sure if Sam still cared whether she lived or not. “And listen, I don’t want to turn into a stalker chick or anything, so if you want me to stop calling you, I will. I won’t like it, but I will.” She hesitated for a moment and added, “I’ll keep my phone on. Okay, bye.”

She slid her phone shut with a sigh, and watched the other campers leaving. She rolled her eyes when she saw Tara shaking hands with Brandy’s parents, just like she’d done with her own mother the summer before.

Tara headed toward Lisa as soon as Brandy’s car was out of the parking lot.

“Hey, apple picker,” Tara called. “You were right about her.” She nodded her head in Brandy’s direction.

“Are you going to dump her by letter, too?” Lisa stood up. At five foot nine, she had a three inch advantage over Tara, and she intended to wield it.

“Her? Nah. I’ll text her in about a month.” Tara looked Lisa up and down and then licked her lips suggestively.

“Oh, you are so gross.”

Tara laughed.

In an attempt to derail Tara, Lisa said, “How’d you get my cell phone number anyway?”

“Oh, easy. Your little sister, Lynette is it?”

“Lynnie.”

“Well, Lynnie gave me your number when I called your house Sunday. She gave it up right away. Nice kid. I like her.”

Lisa nodded. She’d have to talk to Lynnie about that. “Hey, do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Lose my number.” Lisa turned away and looked for her family’s van in the long line of cars.

“You’re just jealous.”

Lisa whipped her head around and laughed. “Of what? Brandy? You’ve got to be kidding. You’re a predator prowling around for fresh meat. How old is Brandy anyway? Fifteen? And you’re what? Eighteen?” Lisa’s voice rose steadily. “You’re going into college, and she just finished tenth grade for God’s sake. Do you know how much trouble you could get in? You could get arrested. You want some friendly advice? Stay out of the nursery before you get yourself in trouble.”

Tara smirked at Lisa as if she could care less. “I still think we’d be good together, you and me.”

“Oh, please. Whatever.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “You know what this is? The Rattle Syndrome.”

“What are you talking about?” Tara narrowed her eyes.

“The Rattle Syndrome. A baby has a rattle, gets tired of it, and throws it away. Oh, wait, just like you threw me away. Then, someone else comes along and picks it up. When the baby sees someone else with it, she screams because she wants it back, even though she was the one who threw it away in the first place.”

Tara seemed to consider it for a moment, but then said, “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you weren’t cheating with Blondie before we broke up?”

Lisa clamped her lips together and shook her head.

“Yeah, I doubt that,” Tara said.

“Believe whatever you want.” Lisa looked at the cars pulling in and was relieved to see her mother’s minivan among them. She waved and grabbed the handle to one of her suitcases. She turned back to Tara. “As soon as I figure out how to do it, I’m going to block your number on my cell phone and on my home phone, too. And, if you try to contact me any other way, Tara, I’ll sue you for harassment. I mean it.”

Tara glared at Lisa as if trying to figure out if she was serious. Lisa glared back. The minivan pulled up to the curb in front of them. Lisa knew her mother was probably watching them, but she stood her ground.

Lisa’s mother hopped out of the van and said, “Is everything okay here?” She looked from Lisa to Tara and back again.

“Yes, Mom, Tara was just leaving.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Tara turned on her heels. Without looking back, Tara said, “Have a nice life, Lisa. If you can find one.”

“I plan to,” Lisa shot back. She took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face for her mother.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

Payton Valley

 

 

LISA COULDN’T MAKE sense of the dream she was having. A bird kept pecking at her shoulder. She groaned and swatted at it, but it pecked her again and then did something strange. It giggled. Slowly, Lisa rose out of the fog of sleep. She opened one eye and then the other and stared right into Bridget’s face.

“Weesa, there you are. Mama said you have to get ready for church. She said, ‘Now!’”

“Oh, you are so stern in the morning.” Lisa, quick as lightning, picked up her little sister and pulled her onto the bed with her. A few well-placed tickles sent Bridget into a giggle storm.

“Lisa,” her mother peeked into the room, “are you up yet?”

Lisa squeezed Bridget tight and yawned. “Yeah, my Bridget alarm woke me up.”

Lisa tried to tickle her again, but Bridget squirmed out of her hold and ran out of the room.

“I called Revered Owens.”

“You did?” Lisa sat up and stretched.

“You’re meeting with him right after church.”

“Today?”

“Mm hmm.”

“I just got back from camp yesterday. I’m not ready.”

Her mother sat on the bed beside her. “I don’t think there’s a way to get ready for this. Besides, you’re just going to talk with him for half an hour.”

Lisa sighed and willed herself not to roll her eyes. “Okay, fine.” She stood up. “I have to get dressed.”

Her mother headed toward the open door, but hesitated for a moment. “It’ll be okay Lisa.”

“I guess.” Lisa was less than happy.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Sam called this morning.” She turned away before Lisa could ask what Sam said.

Lisa leaped for her cell phone and powered it on. The chime of a text message sent her pulse racing. She took a deep breath to steel her nerves. She hoped it was a message from Sam, but then again it might be a message from Tara. She mentally crossed her fingers and looked.

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory.

She opened Sam’s text message. “I’ll pick u up @ ur house after church. 1:00. Ur mom ok’d it.”

Lisa hit the talk button to call Sam, but it went right to voice mail. She wanted to say so much, but decided to use the KISS principle— Keep It Simple Stupid. “I’ll be here waiting for you, Sam.” She hesitated, not sure what else to say, so she simply added, “Okay, bye,” and closed her phone.

Lisa put her phone on the bedside stand and headed for the bathroom. After that, a quick change from pajamas to church attire and a book stashed in her purse for Bridget, and she was ready for one of Reverend Owens’s services. She hoped he wouldn’t be long-winded during the service or when she met with him after, because all she wanted to do was hurry home, change into jeans and that red polo shirt Sam said was sexy, and pretend to wait patiently for her.

Lisa snapped Bridget in her car seat and then climbed in next to her. She wondered what she and Reverend Owens would talk about after church. Her love life was kind of private, wasn’t it? Who she loved didn’t seem to be anybody’s business but her own. She hoped he didn’t get all preachy on her. She chuckled under her breath because that’s what reverends did—preach. But why worry about Reverend Owens? She was who she was, and nothing was going to change that. She’d much rather think about what Sam would say when they met later. Maybe they’d go to their usual spot at the Clarksonville Community College softball field to get reacquainted. Lisa squirmed in her seat. Three whole weeks was too long to be in a fight, too long not see each other. Sam had even missed defending her lawn darts title at their Fourth of July cookout. Lisa never wanted that much time to pass them by again.

Lisa listened half-heartedly to Lawrence Jr. babbling on about a cartoon he had watched that morning. She said, “That’s awesome, Lawrence Jr.” a few times, but she really wasn’t listening because her brain started painting not so good scenarios about her reunion with Sam. Scenarios like Sam breaking up with her. Oh, geez, what if Sam wanted to do it in person the way Bobby broke up with Marlee? Sam would be the kind of person who would do it face to face, not over the phone.
Oh, God. Maybe that’s why she didn’t answer any of my calls.

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