What's Worth Keeping by Kaya McLaren

Author:Kaya McLaren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Paul

Paul woke on Saturday with a desperate desire to go back in time, back to when he was happy, back before bombs and cancer. The best he could do was drive to Oklahoma State University in Stillwater.

He parked his car on Elm Street near Eskimo Joe’s, where he had every intention of eating lunch later, and then walked to campus. It felt strange to him to do this backward. All those years ago, he would meet Amy at Bartlett Hall, the arts building, and walk from there to Eskimo Joe’s. They usually walked through the small business district near campus on their way home, prolonging their sense of nightlife and of being grown-up enough to participate in it.

As he crossed Knoblock Street and stepped onto campus, a sense of overwhelming nostalgia hit him. The actual memories were a blur. It was a feeling, and the feeling was hope, the kind of hope that inflates a young man’s chest like a hot-air balloon ready to lift off, the kind of hope that makes him feel bigger. When was the last time he had walked this path without holding Amy’s hand? It seemed strange to walk here without the sensation of her hand in his. He remembered sitting under that tree right over there with her, holding her palm open, tracing the lines in it with the finger of his other hand, buying time by pretending to be a fortune-teller so he could admire the sheer femininity of it a little longer. Occasionally glancing up, he saw the muscles under her eyes twitch just a little when it tickled. What he mostly remembered was the excitement of the banter combined with the sexual tension. Yeah, she had laughed and scoffed at every outrageous thing he had said, but all in good spirit, of course. After all, everything Amy said and did was in good spirit. He recalled saying, “You will marry a very handsome man.… Oh! Look here! He’s a musician. He will serenade you for the rest of your life! You’re a very lucky girl.”

Now, sadness hit him like a punch in the chest. He hadn’t serenaded her the rest of her life—not even close. And he couldn’t honestly say she had been a lucky girl either.

Wondering whether he might remember more if he sat under that tree, he walked over and did so, leaning back against the trunk. Sure enough, another memory fragment came to him and a big close-lipped smile spread across his face. It was a simple one—no words. Just him sitting right there like that, reading a history book, and Amy’s head on his lap, eyes closed, sleeping, her abandoned textbook facedown next to her. He had looked down at her sweet face and thought, That’s the face I want to fall asleep and wake up next to for the rest of my life. He had thought it with a level of certainty he’d never had about anything before.

Curious about what else he might remember, he walked on to the spot outside the window of the classroom where she used to paint.

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