Gale #2
I heard the creek before we entered a clearing.
It wasn’t anything to boast about. More of a stream than anything.
The trickling waterway passed along the back quadrant of our property.
It was barely a foot wide during the dry season but swelled to six or more feet during the rainy springtime, which was how it presented that evening.
It wasn’t much to look at, but I enjoyed its seclusion and often ventured to this exact spot when I needed time alone with my thoughts.
A prolific bur oak with a concerning lean sat on its bank. Several wide roots emerged from the earth where the land sloped to the water. The poor thing looked like it was barely hanging on, but it had been there since I was a child, so I trusted it.
I chose a thicker root and sat, inviting Ozrik to join me. He chose one at arm’s length away. It felt both too close and too far at the same time.
I had no idea what to expect of this rendezvous and had gotten myself in a knot worrying about it all day.
Despite having two years on Ozrik, my life experience left me floundering like a fifteen-year-old.
At twenty-six, I should have been out in the world, working a proper job, saving for retirement, living on my own, and starting a family with a partner who loved me.
No one told you how different that reality could look when you struggled with your sexuality. It took extra years for someone like me to figure out how they fit in.
Or if they fit in at all.
My own sister didn’t understand, but she also didn’t know the real me. Unlike Dad, Olivia seemed oblivious to the truth. Her patience over the years had dwindled.
At first, we didn’t speak. Ozrik watched the gently flowing stream, while I subtly watched him from under my lashes.
He wore a tank top and battered jeans with pre-torn holes, an outfit I recognized from several videos.
He absently gnawed the charm on his necklace, rolling it around his mouth as he took in the night.
If he was nervous about this encounter, it didn’t show.
Ozrik always seemed calm, cool, and collected.
He noticed me staring and spat the charm, letting it dangle on the outside of his shirt. “I was talking to Olivia today about that series of storms moving through Tulsa.”
“I’ve been monitoring them.”
“Us too. We’ve got three or four promising days coming.”
“I’m betting more like six.”
“Really? Awesome. It’s going to be all kinds of nasty. I love it.”
“Charles sounds adamant that we cooperate on chases.”
“That, I don’t love. I don’t know what the fuck’s up with him, but he’s got a huge boner for team activity all of a sudden.
” Ozrik rolled his eyes. “Maybe he doesn’t like the footage we’ve submitted.
Too dull. Not enough drama. I guess he’s reserved a bank of rooms in some cheap motel for everyone. We’re heading down in the morning.”
“Us too.”
“Should be fun.”
I shrugged. “That’s subjective.”
The sky was clear, the low hanging moon a sliver larger than the previous night. Ozrik shifted to face me, a curious smile unhidden. “Stop pretending you hate it. You luuuv chasing storms. Admit it.”
I deadpanned. “Oh, sure. It’s my passion.”
“I knew it, but seriously. Why are you doing this if you hate it?”
“Olivia roped me in, and… we signed those contracts, so I’m committed for one season.”
“And what happens if the viewing audience loves your cute face and decides they want you on Team Stormz Rising?” He said the title with theatrics, then made a face. “God, I hate that name.”
I smirked. “It’s better than Twisted Fates.”
“Shut up. That was my idea, Wind Rider.”
“I had nothing to do with that, and if I miraculously got voted through, I’ll decline to sign the new contract.”
“Really? It’s a huge opportunity. Did you read the fine print? The money alone is worth it.”
“I don’t care about the money. I should since I don’t have a steady job, but it’s not for me.”
Ozrik studied me for a beat, then shook his head. “You and Olivia are nothing alike.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Understatement of the century. We’re opposites in every way. I’m not sure how we’re twins.”
“Who’s older?”
“Me, by eighteen minutes.”
“Really? I would never have guessed.”
“I feel like I should be insulted.”
He laughed and tapped his foot against mine. “No. That came out wrong. She’s bossy.”
“She’s pushy.”
“It’s the air of superiority that made me think she was older.”
“She’s always been like that. Growing up, she had to be in charge, no matter what we did.”
“And you let her?”
I shrugged. “It was easier. I’m not a fan of confrontation.”
“I sensed that, but you shouldn’t let her push you around.”
“That’s what my dad says.”
“We are wise men.”
A splash nearby drew our attention. Ozrik squinted into the distant water. His necklace caught the moonlight, drawing my eye. I couldn’t quite make out what the charm represented and was too afraid to lean closer to see it better.
“Probably a frog,” Ozrik said, referring to the sound and shifting to face me again.
I motioned to the charm. “What’s your necklace?”
He clasped it between his fingers and held it out, tucking his chin to admire it before leaning closer to show me. “Medic alert.”
“Oh. What for?”
He flipped it around, a devilish grin on his face. “Read it. I had it specially made.”
I moved closer until our heads were nearly touching. He smelled like soap, hair product, and the outdoors. I read the engraving, expecting it to say he was asthmatic, or had diabetes, or epilepsy, or was allergic to bee stings. Instead, it read I’ve probably been poisoned. Don’t believe her lies.
My eyes bugged, and Ozrik hooted with laughter at my reaction.
“Fucking wild, huh? You can laugh. It’s meant to be funny.
Sort of. Tongue in cheek funny.” He tucked it under his tank top.
“It’s also the best warning I can offer a paramedic if I end up unconscious on a gurney.
Or in the morgue, and they’re wondering how I got there. ”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do, Gale. Don’t play stupid. I can’t stand when people pretend around me.
Everyone in this fucked-up town knows my mother’s a nutjob.
Me most of all. If you can’t joke about your misfortunes, then life’s not worth living.
Please don’t start side-eyeing or pitying me like everyone else.
It’s complicated. I want to believe she’s sick and can’t help herself, but it tastes too much like irony. ”
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t the right thing to say, but I was at a loss for words. I didn’t know the specifics. What I knew came from rumors, and they weren’t always reliable.
“I remember your mom.” A thoughtful expression clouded Ozrik’s eyes.
“What?” A chill raced up my spine. “You do?”
“Yes. I was little, but I remember. I didn’t make the connection until…” His words fell away, and he softly laughed, staring at the night sky and stars. “I googled you. I wasn’t being creepy, but I wanted to find that magazine article with your photography.”
“Oh.”
“Your mom was a nurse at the hospital when I was a kid. She snuck me Lifesavers and made sure I always got the orange-flavored electrolyte popsicles because they were my favorite.”
My heart clenched, and profound jealousy hit me out of nowhere. Not because my mother shared candy with a sick boy under her care, but because Ozrik remembered something about her when so many of my memories were gone.
His gaze turned sympathetic. “I didn’t know she passed away.”
“I was ten. Cancer.”
“I saw that. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss. She was one of the good ones.”
I couldn’t say anything for the lump in my throat. She was a good one. The best. My father was the most amazing man on the planet, but sometimes a confused boy needed the comfort of his mother, no matter that he was twenty-six.
“I didn’t find the article, by the way.”
“It’s not under my name. Or rather, it’s under a pseudonym. Windy Row. A play on my last name.”
Ozrik smirked. “That’s cute. Why a pseudonym?”
I shrugged. “I like my privacy.”
“Fair enough.”
For a long time, neither of us spoke. The moon continued its journey across the sky, the stars multiplied, and my discomfort waned a fraction.
I didn’t know what to say to fill the gap.
We were so different. As I racked my brain, following the reflective play of light on the water’s surface, a blinding flash made me startle and raise a hand as though to ward off an enemy.
I darted my attention to Ozrik, who had his phone angled in my direction—the source of the assault. He laughed. “Oh God. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you doing?”
He stared at his phone. “Trying to get a picture, but the flash ruined the effect.” He turned it to show me. “You look ethereal. Are you a ghost?”
The harsh light made me look whiter than white, accentuating the dark circles under my eyes. I looked sickly. “Please delete that.”
He acquiesced. “Cell phone cameras suck.”
“They’re okay if you know how to use your settings.”
“There are settings on this thing?”
I held out my hand with a smirk. “Yes. Let me see it.” He had a Samsung, which was not my wheelhouse, but it didn’t take long to familiarize myself with the camera app. “First of all, you should at least put it in night mode when it’s dark out.”
“I didn’t know night mode existed. I’m more of an aim and click the button kind of person. I know how to turn the flash on and off, but that’s about it.”
“You’re so talented.”
“Was that sarcasm, Windrow?”
I smothered a smile, and he playfully kicked me.
I made a few adjustments to his settings and held it up, centering Ozrik in the frame. Feeling bashful—possibly for the first time in my entire life—I said, “Say… I’m an amateur.”
“Penis,” he said instead with a devilish grin, sticking out his tongue.
Instead of the horror I’d felt the first time we’d had this exchange, I laughed and took the picture. Pulling up the result, I examined it with pursed lips. “Not great, but much better than the one you took.”
I handed him back his phone.