Skin, 9-12, p.6

          I slept in this morning, lay in our bed, still perfumed with our love making. We don’t do that so much now. I’ve missed it. But more and more, Skylar flinches at my touch. It’s strange really. Strange and sad. It used to be me who shrank from touch. Skylar taught me the joy of skin against my own skin. He showed me how to feel without fear. Now he’s the one afraid to feel. I wish that I could change that. But he’s built a fortress around himself. A sand castle. It’s bound to crumble, and when the sea rushes in, I’m afraid he’ll drown.

**

          I first met Skylar at a revival, where nearly everyone was babbling in tongues, or getting a healthy dose of Holy Spirit healing. Skylar’s sister, Britney, had forsaken her Roman Catholic roots in favor of born-again believing and had dragged her brother along that night, hoping he’d find salvation. Instead he found me, sitting in the very back row, half-grinning at the goings-on.

          I hadn’t noticed him come in and slide into the empty seat beside me. He nudged, and that sudden feel of his skin made my voice get caught in my throat. “So…..” he whispered. “Come here often?”

          A good ten seconds passed before I realized he had asked a question. “I…. uh….. well, yes, in fact I come here fairly regularly. See the short guy up there?” I point toward Daddy, who kept the crowd chanting and praying. “He’s the regular preacher, and happens to be my father.”

**

          After a while, we held hands, as we ducked in between old cottonwoods, grown skeletal with autumn. We joked about how soon we’d have to bring our own leaves for cover. Then one day Skylar stopped. He pleated me into his arms, buried his face in my hair, inhaled. “Smells like rain,” he said.

          My heart quick-stepped. He wanted to kiss me. That scared me. His lips brushed my forehead, the pulse in my right temple. Every feel I got for his skin made me want that kiss more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life. “Will I burn if I kiss you?” 

          I was scared, but not of burning. “Probably. And I’ll burn with you. But it’ll all be worth it.” He laughed warmly as we both closed our eyes. 

          It was cold that morning. But Skylar’s lips felt feverish against mine. He lifted me gently in his arms, spun me in small circles, lips still pressed to mine. I’d never known such joy, and it all flowed from Skylar

**

          It’s almost noon by the time I yank myself out of bed. “Skylar?” my instinct tells me I’m alone.

          I check the bathroom, wander into the living room. No Skylar. I wonder how long he’s been out. Boise isn’t a very big town, but he could be anywhere. Still, he’s got a few favorite spots. I decide to search for him in familiar places- restaurants, theatres. I clean up, get dressed and head out the door. I walk past familiar faces, past homes that haven’t changed much in the 21 years I’ve lived here. I stuff the original reason for my walking down these streets into the back of my mind, and it soon becomes just a need for fresh air.

**

          We slipped out the back door, when everyone’s attention turned to some unbelievable miracle at the front of the room. It was early November and the night wore a chill. “Did you have to come to this thing? It seems kind of, um… theatrical.”

          I smiled. “Theatrical. That sums it up pretty well, I guess.”

          “Why do you come then? Pure entertainment?”

          I shrugged. “Certain expectations are attached to the ‘pastor’s daughter’ job description. Easier just to meet them, or at least pretend they don’t bother you.”

          I shivered at the nip in the air, and without a second thought, Skylar took off his leather jacket, eased it around my shoulders. “Cool tonight,” he observed. “So, you’re really not kidding, are you? The preacher is really your father?”

          “Nope. Not kidding, why would you think so?”

          “It’s just… you look so normal, and this…” he shook his head.

          I leaned in close to him, and for the first time inhaled his characteristic scent- clean and somehow green, like alfalfa fields. I dropped my voice very low. “Promise you won’t tell, but I know just what you mean.”

**

          It was unfamiliar turf. I mean, of course I’d though boys were cute before. Truth is, I’d even kissed a few. But they’d all been “kiss and run,” and none had come back sprinting for seconds.

          My father is a hellfire-and-brimstone-preaching Assembly of G-d minister, and my mother is his not-nearly-as-sweet-as-she-seems right-hand woman. And by almighty G-d, their daughters (that’s me, Crystal, and my little sister, Eve) will toe the Pentecostal line. Anyway, my parents maintained high expectations of their daughters’ future plans and desires. 

Father: “Our daughters will find husbands in their faith.”

Mother: “Our daughters will not date until they’re ready to marry.”

Me: “I’m definitely not ready to marry, so I can’t risk letting them know I’m already dating. Let alone dating a guy who isn’t born again, and even worse, doesn’t believe he needs to be.”

          Skylar was spiritual, yes. But religious? “Religion is for followers,” he once told me. “Followers and puppets.” 

**

           Being in love means hard questions. Will I? Won’t I? Should I? Could I? Yes? No? Me? You? There is no me without you. Is there a you without me? And if we’re truly one, how will we breathe when circumstances pry us apart? You are my oxygen, my sustenance, the blood inside my veins. When we touch, you are my skin, and you hold all my joy inside of you. When you go, I wither.

**

          It was a defining moment for me, who had never dared confess that I had questioned church dogma for quite some time. But there was more that evening- instant connection, to a guy, who on the surface, was very different from me. And yet, we both knew instinctively that we needed something from each other.

          Some might call it chemistry- two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen, and voila! You’ve got water. A steady trickle, building to a cascade. “All these signs point to a hard winter.” He was standing very close to me. 

          I sank into that earthy green aroma, looked up into his eyes. “You don’t believe in miracles, but you do believe in signs?”

          His eyes didn’t stray an inch. “Who says I don’t believe in miracles? They happen every day.” And I think we both knew that one just might have.

**

          Had Skylar been the poser type, things would’ve been much easier. If he could just pretend to accept the Lord into his heart, on my father’s strictest of terms, maybe we could be seen in public together- not really dating of course. Not without a ring. But Skylar is the most honest person I’d ever met. 

          It had been four months of him coming to church with Britney, both of us patiently wading through my father’s sermons, then waiting for post-service coffee hours to slip separately out the side doors, into the thick stand of riverside trees for a walk. 

          Day by day, I’d grown to love him more and more, though I’d never dared confess it. I’d had to hide it from everyone. This town is far too small; words get around. I couldn’t even tell Eve. She was always terrible at keeping secrets.

          I was sixteen, a junior. A year and a half and I’d be free to do whatever I pleased. Until then, I was sneaking off to spend a few precious moments with Skylar. I’d duck out the exit, run down the steps. Around on corner, two. And there’d be his Tundra across the street, idling at the curb. He’d spot me, and even from a distance, I could see his face light up. Glance left, no one I know. Right, ditto. No familiar faces or cars. 

           I wouldn’t even wait for the corner, but jaywalk midblock at a furious pace, practically diving through the door and across the seat, barely saying hello before kissing Skylar like I might never see him again. Maybe because always, in the back of my mind, I realized that was a distinct possibility. 

**

          I slip through the door of the home I share with my now pronounced husband, close it behind me. I search for any trace of life and come to find skylar sitting in the dining room- diner prepared. I hadn’t notice, but I was gone for a while. 

          “Hey you. Where you been all day?” he gets up as if to greet me, but traces off into the kitchen to clean up his mess. 

           “I was just taking a walk. I needed to get some fresh air.” No response. “ I… um… woke up this morning and you weren’t home.” I step into the kitchen behind him, hoping for some sympathy.

          “Sorry about that hon. I had a last minute meeting. I couldn’t bear to wake you.” He turns and smiles at me- the kind of smile that sets your heart beating apace. “You know, you look beautiful when you sleep. Have I ever told you that?”

          “No. you haven’t.”

           “Well, now you know.” He moves his lips across my forehead, kissing me. Suddenly I feel the same sense of electricity I felt five years ago, when we kissed for the first time. The touch of his skin felt new, and all those bittersweet memories and wake-up-shivering nightmares flowed through my scalp like a flood over thirsty fields. We were suddenly sixteen again- before life’s uncertain rhythms had torn us apart. I was gathered in his arms, no longer wrenched away or snatched by a riptide I had no power to resist. We found out love within a single kiss, and we find it again. This steady trickle had built into a full-blown cascade.