The World Made Yonder Pt. 05

And Celia leaned forward and kissed him.

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It was a baking hot afternoon.

The curved architecture of the metal-and-glass university buildings stood against a sheer blue sky, the sun reflecting off a hundred glass panels. The design had been described as 'visionary' and would not have looked out of place in a science-fiction movie, although the designer greenery of the campus would place it firmly on planet Earth.

At the long faculty building with a central silver-green dome, giant glass doors slid open and a host of young men and women came streaming out. One of them was a tall twenty-one-year-old male student with blond hair and broad shoulders. His short-sleeved polo shirt was the same blue as his eyes and tight enough to show a torso worked out in a gym without being showy. He wore knee-length shorts and had a backpack slung over one shoulder, and the moment he stepped out of the building, he slid on a pair of sleek, wraparound sunglasses.

'Bye, Stephen!' cooed one of the female students.

Stephen gave her a smile, but said nothing. He exchanged a few words with a couple of the guys, then said his goodbyes and headed to where his bicycle was locked up.

He had an appointment to keep.

Jenni LaToya was not Stephen's first girlfriend, but she was the first girl he felt comfortable calling 'my girlfriend'. She was nineteen and in her first year of university and, as Stephen cycled across the immense campus, he had to discretely adjust his penis in his shorts due to the erection he got just by thinking about her. Add to that the sunny weather and hot air against his skin, and Stephen was growing increasingly horny.

He arrived at a set of older buildings with a kind of village green before it. A few brave souls were sunbathing in the heat, but Stephen spotted Jenni sitting on the grass with another girl, both in the shade of a cedar tree. He got off the bike and walked it across the grass towards them.

Jenni was medium-height, slim, with a firm, toned body. She had long black-brown hair which crinkled as it fell and her skin was the colour of peanut butter. Her upper front teeth were a shade large, which gave her a pout when her mouth was closed and a dazzle when she smiled. Her top-of-the-range mountain bike was lying discarded on the grass next to a large gym bag and she wore pale green Lycra cycling shorts with a matching sports top which showed off her brown midriff. Her legs were also smooth and brown and ended with white-and-pink trainers on her dainty feet. Stephen thought she looked good enough to eat.

'Steve!'

Jenni leapt to her feet and ran to greet him. They kissed, then walked back together, Stephen's right hand on his bicycle and his left on Jenni's bare waist. The other girl was standing up—a tall, red-haired young woman with an attractive round face called Caroline. Her first move was to offer her hand for a handshake, then she took it back awkwardly.

'Just a sec,' said Stephen.

Even though—next to Jenni's—his own bicycle looked like a second-hand piece of junk, Stephen couldn't bring himself to just dump it on the grass. He took a moment to kick the stand and get the bike to remain upright on the uneven ground. Then he removed his sunglasses so that Caroline could see his eyes and shook her hand like an old-fashioned gent. Jenni rolled her eyes as she watched him, but she secretly liked that he did this.

'I'm Stephen,' he said.

'Nice to meet you,' said Caroline. 'Jenni didn't tell me you were Swedish!'

Stephen's face darkened and he let go her hand like it was poisoned. Despite the heat, both girls felt a drop in temperature and Caroline got flustered.

'It was just a joke!' she said. 'I mean, with the blond hair and the blue eyes, you just look kind of—'

'It's okay,' said Stephen. 'I get that all the time.'

He slid the wraparound sunglasses back on and turned to Jenni.

'Shall we go?' he said.

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The university was located on the city boundary, but while the majority of students headed inward towards the metropole, Jenni and Stephen cycled in the opposite direction. To begin with, Jenni led them along bike lanes and country roads, taking them away from the built-up areas. Because of other traffic or the nature of the roads, Stephen had to cycle behind his girlfriend, her gym bag strapped to the rack over his rear wheel. But once they were in the countryside proper, they hit a track which ran all the way along fields and then forestland, which meant they could cycle next to each other and talk.

But Stephen wasn't in the mood for talking. Every attempt by Jenni to start a conversation was met with grunts or one-word answers. Eventually, after a kilometre of silence, Jenni hit the brakes and skidded to a stop. Stephen braked himself, stopping a few metres further on. He turned his head just in time to see Jenni drop her bike to the dusty ground and come walking over to confront him.

'Listen, Steve,' she said. 'Today is a beautiful day and I want to spend it with you, and in ten minutes in that direction are some woods where we can enjoy some outdoor privacy, if you know what I mean. But if you're going to be a moody bastard, then I change my mind! We may as well go home and watch a movie or something. Are you with me?'

'Yes.'

'So what's your problem? Why does a stupid joke about you being blond put you in such a bad mood? Were you bullied at school because of it?'

'No.'

'Then what?'

Stephen gripped the handlebars of his bike, his knuckles turning white. To his embarrassment, a tear dropped from one eye. Before Jenni could comment, he said:

'My mum once cheated on my dad with a Swedish guy.'

Jenni's annoyance quickly turned into sympathy. Then another thought popped into her mind and she stared at Stephen in shock.

'You don't mean...?'

'No!' said Stephen emphatically. 'Trust me, the first thing I did after she told me was to order one of those family ancestry DNA things. And Dad is my dad, Mum is my mum, and I am definitely not Swedish! In fact, I take after my grandfather. I saw pictures of him when he joined the army as a young man and I look just like him.'

Jenni threw her arms around her boyfriend. Stephen hugged her close, grateful for her understanding and grateful, too, that she had insisted on addressing it. He would have just kept it to himself. They kissed and Jenni said, 'Come on, let's go' and they continued biking along the track.

It took twenty minutes rather than ten before they reached the woods Jenni had in mind, but Stephen had to admit it was worth it. Trees rose up from a carpet of waist-high ferns and the sunlight was filtered through a canopy of leaves. The air was the temperature of a warm bath and ducking below the level of the ferns was a bit like going underwater. Jenni was right—even if someone came wandering by, it would be easy to stay out of sight.

They hid their bicycles under some large bushes and carried their bags to a huge beech tree. Jenni removed a picnic blanket from her gym bag—the kind with a waterproof underlay—and laid it out on the soft ground. Stephen watched her, a little uncomfortable at how well-prepared she was.

'How did you find this place?' he asked, trying to sound casual.

Jenni smiled as she smoothed out the blanket.

'You worried about my string of lovers?' she said.

'No.' Stephen frowned. 'Kind of.'

Jenni laughed and said:

'I joined a cycling club when I was sixteen. And when I got into this university, one of the guys—who was a graduate—showed me this place on a map. I've been here a few times on my own, but this is the first time I've brought a guest.'

Jenni pulled off her trainers and ankle socks, then sat on the blanket and looked at Stephen with an expression of any-more-questions? Stephen smiled, took off his own trainers and socks and joined her on the blanket. Jenni pulled the elastic band from her hair that was holding it in a ponytail and they began with the serious business of making out. Jenni lay underneath, her hands on his shoulders and body, and Stephen was on top, exploring her lips and her tongue with his mouth. She was lovely, delicious, and the sounds of the leaves and the feel of the outdoor air made it all the more vivid and wonderful.

And yet ... the kissing never escalated. Jenni's hands never went under Stephen's polo shirt to feel his bare skin. Finally, Stephen stopped kissing, looked down at the girl and smiled.

'You're still thinking about my mum and the Swedish guy, aren't you?' he said.

'I'm sorry,' said Jenni.

'It's okay.'

Stephen rolled off and lay on his back. Jenni turned to lie on top of him and they repositioned themselves so they could hold each other and talk. Jenni let out a deep sigh.

'I'm sorry, Steve,' she said. 'But it does bother me. I just don't understand why a mother would do that.'

'What's to understand?' said Stephen. 'The guy was her boyfriend when she was my age. Years later, when she's married to my dad, she meets this guy by chance at a birthday party. Old feelings resurface, one thing leads to another ... blah-blah-blah.'

'Yeah, I get that part. But it obviously happened before you were born, right? Otherwise, you wouldn't have done a DNA test?'

'Yeah, okay...'

'So, why did she tell you? That's the part I don't understand. If I were your mum, I'd have kept my mouth shut.'

'Yeah, well ... there were complications.'

'What complications?'

Stephen looked at Jenni. Judging by her expression, she was simply expecting him to tell her. The possibility that he might not want to talk about it didn't seem to have entered her head. And yet, far from being irritated, Stephen found it endearing. He loved that she was interested and wanted to know about him. He settled back and brushed a strand of her hair from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear.

'Once, when I was eighteen,' he said, 'I went with a couple of mates into town after school. And we're heading towards the big shopping mall when one of them says, "Hey, Stephen! Isn't that your dad in the ice cream parlour?" And I'm thinking it can't be because Dad's at work, running a company of sixty people, but when I take a look, I see that it is him! There's my dad, in the middle of the afternoon, sitting in an ice cream parlour opposite some woman and a little girl!

'So, I go in there casual-like and say, "Hey, Dad! Fancy seeing you here!" And you could tell that he was thinking 'Oh shit!' when he saw me ... but he kept his cool and said, "Hi, Stephen, this is Lorna and Josie. Lorna, Josie ... this is my son, Stephen." And, as soon as he says that, the girl turns round to the woman and says, "Does that mean he's my brother?" '

Jenni stared at Stephen, her eyes bulging. She lifted herself to her knees, still staring at him, her hands covering her wide, open mouth. Stephen looked at her thinking, 'Yeah, that's how I must have looked.'

'Oh ... my ... God!' said Jenni.

Stephen lifted himself onto his elbows, his legs stretched before him. Jenni was kneeling next to him, her hands pushing her hair back, her fingers digging into her scalp.

'Oh, my God,' she repeated. 'Your father had a kid with another woman?'

'Yep,' said Stephen. 'My first reaction was not to believe it, but when I looked at the girl, I could see my dad in her eyes—same colour, same eyebrows. It was weird.'

'What did you do?'

'I ran straight out, fast as I could. Dad tried to catch up with me, but he had no chance. Then he called my phone, but I didn't pick up. No way did I want to talk to him.'

Stephen sat up straight, cross-legged.

'I was so angry,' he said. 'So angry.'

'Of course you were,' said Jenni.

'I kept thinking, 'How could you do this to Mum?' Especially after she went to prison because of him.'

'Wait! Your mum was in prison?'

'Yeah.'

Stephen looked at her, his gaze aggressive, ready to attack any suggestion he was making this up. Jenni closed her eyes, her fists clenched, as she struggled to control her disbelief.

'Why was she in prison?' she said.

'A so-called "friend" was telling people that my dad was abusing my mum. So, Mum confronted this woman and hit her over the head with a bottle. She nearly killed her.'

'My God...'

'Anyway, since the incident, this woman is apparently unable to work—she gets blinding headaches and suffers from memory loss. So Mum got sentenced to three years in prison and served eighteen months before getting out on parole.'

'Oh, Stephen...'

'I remember that part, of course. Even as a kid, you don't forget visiting your mum in jail. But as I ran home from that ice cream parlour, I assumed Dad had cheated on Mum while she was in prison, because ... you know. Three years without you-know-what.'

'It's called sex, Steve.'

'Yeah, I know. Just don't like using that word in connection with my parents.'

Privately, Jenni thought, 'Well, that explains a lot.' But she kept it to herself and instead said:

'So what happened when you got home?'

'Mum was waiting for me,' said Stephen. 'And the moment she stood up from the couch and looked at me, I knew that Dad had called and told her what happened. More than that, I knew that she knew. She knew about that woman and the child. And, looking at her, I saw that there was more to the story than just Dad cheating on her. I could see it in her eyes. Because, you see ... she was afraid.'

Stephen sat staring out into the forest. Jenni knelt, her hands on her legs, and looked down at the blanket. Eventually, she said:

'And that's when your mother told you about the Swedish guy?'

'Yeah.'

There was another silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves. Then Jenni climbed onto Stephen's lap and hugged him, her knees either side. He hugged her back and Jenni felt his sadness as she held him. Yet he didn't cry. Maybe he had cried himself out over this, she thought. It was three years ago, after all.

'Are your parents still together?' asked Jenni.

'Oh, yes,' said Stephen. 'You'd need a nuclear bomb to break those two up.'

'Well, isn't that a good thing?'

'I don't know.'

Stephen leaned back on his arms.

'Part of me is grateful they stayed together, obviously,' he said. 'The year-and-a-half without Mum was horrible, but if they had divorced that would have been my life. Most of my friends have divorced parents and none of them are happy about it. And my mum and dad actually like each other, so I considered myself lucky.

'But since the Ice Cream Parlour Incident, I've lost a lot of respect for them. There was so much shit that went down and it got to a point where I said, "Okay, enough! I don't want to know any more." And I know for a fact that if I ever get married, I am not going to follow in their footsteps. I'm going to do things right.'

Jenni looked at her boyfriend. He was wearing his serious face, looking sternly off into the distance as though completely sure of his position. It bothered her. However much sympathy Jenni felt for Stephen, she knew from experience that suffering injustice does not necessarily mean you know what justice looks like.

Stephen saw her troubled expression and hung his head.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

'For what?'

'You brought us here for a nice intimate afternoon and I've turned it into a therapy session.'

'Hey!'

Jenni was still kneeling across Stephen and now she took his face in her hands and looked him in the eyes.

'This is intimate,' she said. 'You're trusting me with some of the most painful memories of your life. Do you have any idea how happy that makes me? I love that you told me. I love that you trust me. I love...'

Jenni stopped. She couldn't find the words. All she could see were Stephen's beautiful blue eyes which looked at her as though she were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. Suddenly, words were irrelevant. She kissed him, hard, her tongue pushing itself into his mouth, and Stephen responded, his arms encircling her body, his own tongue tangling with hers. Within seconds, they were pulling their clothes off.

Jenni's assertion that she and Stephen would have privacy was almost correct, but there was one witness to their lovemaking. A crow landed on a branch of the beech tree and was disturbed by the sound of copulating humans. Looking down, it saw amongst the ferns a male human back and bottom thrusting into a female human beneath him. Her hands were on his back, her knees were spread wide, and she was making a lot of noise. The crow watched, its head tilting this way and that, as the noise increased and reached a crescendo. The male suddenly pushed hard, holding the female in a tight grip, and the female made noises as though dying of pleasure.

The sighs faded and there was silence. The crow watched, but the couple were not moving. They just held each other, their bodies together, quietly breathing. The crow let out a call, then flapped off, flying through the forest and out into the world made yonder.