Page 13 of Light Up The Night
"I know you will, dear. When you set your mind to something, nothing can stop you. And if it's meant to be, God will provide."
"So He will. Goodnight, Mr. Crenshaw."
"Goodnight, Cadie." He pats the lip of the open window, turns away, nodding at me as he passes. "Young man."
"Sir." I nod back and wait until he's inside before hopping behind the wheel.
Cadence is rifling through her bag, taking inventory, muttering to herself. "Laptop, check; phone, check; composition book and pens, check; my book, check; wallet, check…"
I wait until she seems finished with her inventory. "Got everything?"
She nods once. "Yes, everything is present. Not that Mr. or Mrs. Crenshaw would take any of belongings, mind you."
"Of course not." I put the truck in reverse, back out, and head for the highway and home.
For a good fifteen minutes, Cadence alternates between hugging the bag to her chest and flipping obsessively through the items inside.
Eventually, she seems to sort of…tune back in to the world around her, and me. "Riley?"
I glance at her. “’Sup?"
She frowns. "Sup? We just ate."
I laugh. "Just ate? No, I—I meant 'sup', like what's up?"
She blinks a few times. "Oh. I see." A long pause, and then she turns her attention to me once more. "Thank you. You cannot know what this bag means to me. I am honestly flabbergasted that I left it there in the first place. I was immensely distraught, however."
"It's a cool bag, that's for sure. It's vintage?"
"Yes, it is. My great-grandfather fought for Britain in the Great War. He kept this as a souvenir. It is a French military issue field knapsack, model M-1893, originally manufactured in 1914. Light green canvas body, brown leather straps, black buckles, and a wood frame. The design itself dates back to the Napoleonic Wars." A brief pause. "My grandfather bequeathed it to me as a graduation gift from Harvard. It has traveled with me throughout Africa on my previous missions.”
"Well damn,” I say, genuinely impressed. "That's cool as fuck, babe. No wonder you were crashing out about it."
She blinks at me. "Translate, please."
"Uhhh…" I give an awkward laugh. "I just…I mean, it's a really cool bag, and I can understand why something with so much sentimental value would be so important, why you'd have a panic attack about forgetting it, especially after the day you've had."
She nods, once. "Indeed. Like your grandmother's quilt, this is the one item I would attempt to save, in your hypothetical fire situation."
She fiddles with the straps and then turns her gaze out the window once more. I drive in silence for a while.
After a few minutes, she opens the bag yet again, rummaging; this time, she withdraws a headlamp and a battered paperback novel—Pride and Prejudiceby Jane Austen. She puts the headlamp on, clicks the light on to the lowest setting, adjusts the angle, and then begins reading.
This chick, man. Fascinating. Unpredictable. Weird. I've never met anyone like her, and I doubt I ever will.
We pull backinto the garage at just past three in the morning. Cadence, absorbed in her book, doesn't realize we've arrived and that I've shut off the engine.
"Cadence?"
She startles a little, shaking her head as if surfacing from the depths of a pool. "Oh. we have returned."
"Yeah, sure have." I hop out, round the tailgate, and open her door. "Step on down, there you go." I hold her hand as she slides to the ground.
She stands in front of me, looking up at me, searching my face without ever meeting my gaze directly. "You are a kind man, Riley Crowe."
I grin. "Hey, now. Keep it down. I've got a reputation to protect." She gives me that look which I'm starting to recognize: she has no clue what I mean. "Just joking, babe. A lot of what I say is jokes. I just mean." I shake my head. "You know what? Never mind. It's stupid and not important. Let's go in, yeah?"
Inside, Cadence pauses in the hallway, looking at the couch and then the doorway to my room. "Are youquitecertain you will not allow me to rest on the couch? After all the kindand generous things you have done for me this day, it seems ungrateful to put you out of your bed as well."
