Page 42 of Fun Together
“Maybe they’re in love,” I say.
She snorts and almost smiles. Almost.
The swans do this push and pull sort of thing, dancing around each other in the water.
“It’s kind of mesmerizing,” I say.
“Yeah, it is,” she says.
They continue their dance until finally wrapping their necks around each other. I look over at Faye to see if she sees this too, hardly able to believe I’m witnessing this at all.
I expect to see the wonder that I’m currently feeling. But she looks almost sad when she says, “I feel like we’re watching something not meant for our unworthy human eyes.”
I look back at the swans, still wrapped up in each other, completely unaware that we’re even watching them. “Maybe they aren’t real, and are just some kind of mirage.”
“Maybe they’re an omen or warning,” she says in a doom-filled voice.
“Maybe they’re casting a spell on us,” I say.
She looks at me, then, her blue eyes big and serious. “Maybe we’re cursed.”
“Oh no,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “How do you think we break it?”
She shifts her focus back to the water. “I’m thinking blood sacrifice.”
“Or a nice, high-quality baguette.”
She laughs, the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard, and I add it to my mental tally.
“We should probably head back,” she says, hopping off the bench and brushing the backs of her legs off.
I take one last look at the swans before following her back up the path.
14
Eli
My dad staresat the giant old oak tree in my parents’ backyard like it’s an enemy he’s been trying for years to defeat. He slowly marches around the trunk, scratching at his beard in deep thought. He’s always had that beard, although now it’s completely gray.
He’s been at it for twenty minutes. “Do I need to leave you two alone for a bit?”
He jabs a finger at the tree. “Today is the day.” He bends down to pick up a squiggly flower thing, and tosses it at me. “I can’t keep scooping these things out of the pool.”
“You’re not cutting the whole thing down, are you?” This tree and I have shared some great memories together. Like in third grade, when I tried to climb it and broke my arm falling from the big branch that hangs out over the yard.
“No, this tree is older than God. I’d never cut it down.” He looks up and points. “Just that branch hanging over the pool.”
The pool is a newly installed gift he got my mom for their big anniversary. He pretends it was something he did for her begrudgingly, but we all know he secretly loves having something to tinker with. I haven’t even had a chance to swim in it because he’s convinced the chemicals aren’t quite right yet.
“Shouldn’t you get a professional to cut it down?” Normally I’m all for trying something new, but I’m not sure I’m ready to venture into the tree-trimming business. “Or at the very least, Emmett might be a better help than me. He’s at least used a power tool before.”
“Nah, I watched a few YouTube videos.” My dad goes by the “why pay someone to do it when you can do it yourself” way of living. “And Emmett was busy today,” he adds.
He moves the ladder next to the base of the tree closest to where the branch hangs over. “You get up on the ladder and I’ll hand you the trimmer.”
I climb up the ladder, and he hands me the tool he’s rigged with some kind of extension that allows for further reach. I see another broken arm in my future. “Do I just start chopping at the branch? What if it falls on my head?”
“Oh shit, hang on. I’ve got a hard hat here somewhere.”
