Page 53 of About That Night

I do, actually. In the last few weeks, I’ve learned about who Chastity is, how she thinks, and how deeply she feels. She wears her heart on her sleeve.

She’s worn down and doesn’t even realize how much. Not just physically, but emotionally, from being the strong one all the time, caring for everyone else.

No one has taken care of her.

But she has been having fun. With me. I can give her that. We’ve still been spending time together, as friends, and I want to be present in these moments with her before she meets a guy who will see in an instant how amazing she is and steal her away from me forever.

Conway was right. Once she meets a guy she wants to be with, I’ll be squeezed out of her life entirely.

“I know your fear of bugs is irrational, but it’s a common enough fear. You’re not afraid of heights, though. You said that. This is about you learning to let go.”

We’re up on the first platform, sixty feet in the air. She had agreed to come out here readily enough, but with each step up the platform, she’d grown more and more nervous.

“Josiah depends on me. I can’t die falling in the swamp and leave him for my parents to raise. Which reminds me—I don’t even have a will, Hank! Oh my god, that’s so irresponsible of me!”

“You are not going to die. I promise you. Look at me.” I massage her shoulder.

She opens both eyes and gives me a look filled with hearty suspicion. “You don’t know that.”

I’m not going to point out she could die walking across the street because she’ll spiral. “This is a metaphor, sweetheart. You’ve spent the last five years hanging on as tight as you can with your eyes squeezed shut, trying to survive, but it’s time to ease up your grip, Chastity. Open your eyes. Come up for air. Enjoy your life. Just…let go.”

She must be genuinely afraid because she doesn’t even notice I accidentally called her sweetheart.

“Bad things happen when I let myself get carried away.”

“You mentioned that before, and I don’t get it. Explain it slowly again to me, like I’m five. When we’re done.” I jerk her harness to show her she’s secure. “You’re all locked in. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Hank.” She takes a deep breath.

“Yes?”

“If I don't die doing this, I’m going to need you to make me some grits. Fear makes me hungry.”

I’d been hoping she’d ask for something else, like an orgasm, but I can feed her. “That’s a deal.”

“Okay. I’m going.” She looks back at the tour attendant. “What do I do?”

“Just let go.”

Total metaphor.

When she does, I’m ridiculously proud of her. She does however scream like nobody’s business and grips the clip aggressively. Her legs are crossed so tight not even a breeze can squeeze between her thighs.

But when she lands on the next platform and comes to a wobbly step, she jumps up and down and seeks me out. “Hank!” she screams. “I did it!”

“You sure did, sweetheart! Step back, I’m coming in.” I launch myself forward, not even bothering to hold on. I love the freedom of ziplining. It’s just sitting back and letting gravity do the work. The air is thick with humidity, and I lean back, taking in the cypress trees and the dank water below.

I wonder what it’s like to grow up somewhere else, like New York City. The smells are all so different, the pace frenzied. I thought for a minute or two in college maybe I’d want to move out of Louisiana, but it never happened, and I never cared. This is home. Now I’m truly home, back in Porte French, where the Otis and Corkys know all my history, my family’s history.

It’s a blessing and a curse, but right now, I choose to view it as a blessing.

Just like my friendship with Chastity.

She’s clapping for me when I land next to her on the platform. “Good job!” she exclaims, like there was ever a doubt I was going down, which amuses me.

I see a hint of the cheerleader she was in high school. The attendant unclips us. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I ask her.

“No. It wasn’t. Was I screaming?”

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