"The Queen of Hearts"

"Show me a man in love and I will show you a fool."

-Old Proverb

It was warmer than usual.

The wind devils of the shore cliffs were familiar in their briefness; they were the same as the ones thirty years before had been. And the waters below were all the more alike in their anonymity. And now he saw her approaching, and he couldn't wait to kiss that face he knew so well and see her smile or even frown, more so the latter because he knew that he could make her laugh.

He couldn't wait to tell her he loved her, again.

And she drew nearer and nearer, and with each step he grew more aware of the ebb of both wind and breakers as they cascaded; one over earth and another over flesh. And when she was near enough he met her with his own confident stride and pulled her into his arms.

"There you are!" He pulled back and kissed her on the top of her head, smiling into her hair. Strawberries.

She said nothing and stood relaxed. He took her hand and led her over to the railing.

"C'mere, sweetheart." He couldn't stop smiling as he leaned over the railing, pulling her by her hand to him. She still hadn't said anything; her gaze was lost in the rosy glow of the dying Sun, and the sky was stained vermilion and gold with its life-blood. The horizon was her focus, not the man beside her.

"How was your day?" He couldn't wait to hear her relation to him of the events of her day; it wasn't that he was particularly interested in the mundane aspect of of it all. Rather, he just wanted to hear his beautiful girl speak. "You feeling any better?"

"Listen." This was the first word she spoke to him that day.

"Mhmm?" He was playing with her fingers against the railing, completely enthralled in all that she was.

"I can't say that I love you." These would not be the last, but regardless, it can be assured that he wished they had been.

He paused in his play, then resumed. "I've told you before that I don't care about that; all I care about is you, okay? And I don't need to be loved to love." He looked up and smiled at her.

She pulled her hand away and rolled her eyes. His composure slipped, and as he reached for her waist he could detect a raw element to her. An honest one.

"Honey...?"

"Cut the bull. You don't love me."

He had never imagined this happening. The day had held such promise, such unwitting fertility for his girl to be happy and-

"You don't love me, okay? You don't even know what love is. You're a seventeen year old boy. You don't know what love is. How could you know what love is? Love... It doesn't even exist."

She shrugged out of his reach, standing stiffly.

He was dumbfounded. He couldn't say anything coherent except: "Sweetheart...", and, when she didn't respond "Honey...".

He tried again. "Look at me, please."

And she did indeed; he gently brought her around with his finger under her chin, and the look in her eyes made his heart palpitate from the unknowing of what she would say next.

She was unmoving, and his finger felt cold on her skin. The whole of him was cold at the extremities. He cleared his throat.

"I love you, okay? I really do; I love your way of explaining how to act at a job interview. I love how you love every kind of bear. I love how there's no way I can change your opinion on dark chocolate. I love the way you look at me when I say something stupid, and I love the way you look at me when I say something smart. I love when you say smart things. You're so intelligent and out of my league it's... It's awe-inspiring. I love you, honey." He gave a strange smile.

She was looking down at the breaking waves. He followed her gaze and saw driftwood and kelp being battered against the rocks at the base of the cliff. His hand brushed against his pocket, and when he felt the box he remembered.

"Oh! Yeah!" He reached in and pulled out his deck of cards.

She glanced at him as he slid the paper cards out of the deck, cutting them over and over until he felt they were properly mixed up.

"Pick one." He spread the deck between his hands, tilting his head down to catch a glimpse of her. She sighed and picked one. The roar of the ocean and the wind combined were becoming all the more apparent to the pair of them.

"Y' got it?" She nodded. He had caught a glimpse of the card adjacent to her's, and he figured that her's was the Queen of Hearts.

"Queen of Hearts?" He smiled a hopeful smile.

She sighed and put it in her pocket, and as she turned slightly the wind caught her hair and he could see the hollow of her neck. He wanted to hold her.

"Look, I only came here t-"

He sensed danger in those beginning words, so he sought to beg for his happiness.

"D'you wanna know how I do it?"

She sighed, this time annoyed and tired. "I-..."

He cut the cards into four piles, dealing them out into the four standard suits.

"What you do is stack 'em in a certain way; the 'Si Stebbins stack'. You get it?" He showed her the first pile; the Clubs. He hoped she was looking, and a quick glance told him she wasn't. He continued, because if he stopped talking he knew that would leave him with nothing to stop her from saying what she had come to say.

"You stack them from the Ace of Clubs to King, and you move the Ace to the top." He showed her the second pile; the Hearts. "Same here, but you move Ace through four to the top this time." Third pile; the Spades. "Ace through seven here." Last pile; the Diamonds. "Ace through ten here."

"Listen-..."

He pressed on. "And then you start stacking the cards, one card from each pile until you run out of cards." He stacked them quickly, keeping his head as he struggled to lessen the distance between the pauses in his explanation. Finally, he had a single pile. He pulled a card out and continued.

"Now I just catch a glimpse of this card, the ten of Clubs, and this card should be the Queen of Hearts." He flicked the card he held to turn it over, but realized too late that she still had the Queen in her pocket. Out of all the cards, she had the one he needed...

"Stop."

For a moment his heart did. "That's your favorite trick swee-".

"Stop it, damn it!"

He did. How couldn't he? She was breathing heavily now.

"Look," she began, and she reached out and steadied herself on the railing. "I'm fifteen. I d-".

"Honey, I'm only seventeen and I know I'm not the perfect guy bu-".

"I don't know what the f*****g perfect guy is! Stop it already; love doesn't exist and I hate that you think it does! Be realistic for once!"

He didn't know what to say.

For minutes all there was to hear was the separate roars and different heart beats. She crossed her arms over a sweater that only now did he realize was his. He had had his first snowball fight in that old thing.

"I don't think you can handle having a girlfriend right now."

Silence.

"It's going to be really crazy next year. You'll be a senior and I'll be a junior. And I just... I don't think we can be together."

He stuttered to life: "Honey if I said or did anyth-".

She clenched her fists until the knuckles went white. "This isn't about you! Get that through your head!"

He continued: "I've been so stupid..."

She faltered for a moment. "You're not stupid..."

He sensed a glimmer of hope.

"Oh yeah? Give me one reason why I'm not."

"Your book."

"They can publish anyone."

"They don't publish stupid people's books."

"How do you know, huh?"

"Because they wouldn't waste their time."

"B-".

"Stop! Stop talking, you're hurting me! Just stop!"

And so he did. How couldn't he?

He tried one last time.

"I..."

She sighed, shakily.

"I..." She coughed. "I want to stay friends. I just... I can't be in a relationship with you." And she walked away.

And as she walked away, he started whispering to himself:

"I... I love you. I love everything about you. I love the way you argue with me. I love the way you smile m-m-mischievously. I love when you talk about your dad and your mom and your brother and-and-and..."

He looked up and saw that she was already gone

                                                            * * * * *

He was still there the next morning when a little boy and his mother came walking along the beaten path that followed the cliff. He was sleeping on one of the benches that dotted the length of the trail, and when she turned away, the boy left his mother and walked up to him, poking him until he woke up.

"Wha-...?"

"Hey."

The one on the bench was less than amused.

"Whaddya want?"

The boy leaned back on his haunches, sifting through the sand and gravel at his feet with his fingers.

"Whatcha doin' on the bench?"

"F*****g sleeping."

The little boy started, then quickly smiled; such language wasn't allowed at his house, and he enjoyed the loose nature of the stranger's language.

"Why aren't you at home?"

"Because I live on the goddamn Moon."

"The Moon?"

"No, not the f*****g Moon; I live in La Mirada."

"La-".

"Todd, what are you doing bothering this young man?" The mother had finally noticed that her son wasn't at her side and had quickly gone to where she had seen him standing; next to a scruffy-looking teenager. She didn't sense any danger, though there was something bitter in that reddened gaze he had. It was probably the salty air; she could see streaks lining his face.

The mother grabbed her son's hand. "I'm sorry if he-".

The one on the bench started to get up. "No, no it's fine. I should have lef-" he cracked his neck and back and the boy looked from him to his mother in awe of the noise. "Oh Jesus. I should have left hours ago."

He smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth like they did in cartoons when they wanted to exaggerate the weariness of a character.

"Is this your son?"

She smiled and nodded. "Mhm, this is Todd."

The boy waved. "Hi."

The one on the bench nodded. "I've already had the pleasure."

He rose stiffly, joints snapping as he unwound.

"Now, it was nice meeting you two." As he was about to turn, and as they were about to do the same, he stopped and turned back.

"Excuse me, but d'you mind if I show your son something?"

The mother hesitated. "Uh..."

"It isn't anything bad, I promise."

She hesitated, looking down at her son. Then she looked back up to him and met his gaze, and she realized the redness in his eyes wasn't from the salt in the air.

"Sure".

And with that he sat down again, pulling out his deck of cards relaying everything he had said the day before to the young charge he now had, going into even more detail now.

"... And then, when you want to reset the trick, just slip the card back in and give it a cut." He demonstrated, and handed him he deck. "Give it a shot."

As he handed them to the little boy he added: "Remember, the card they pick is always going to have a value three over; if you see an Ace it's going to be a four, and the suits go Clubs, Hearts, Spades and Diamonds. Got it?"

The boy nodded.

He took the cards, fumbling them a bit but not dropping them as he turned to his mother and asked: "Pick a card!"

She smiled and obliged, a bit more relaxed now. She reached for a card and slid it out, but had to put it back because her son told her to (he had seen it). When she had selected a card, he concentrated and, following the instructions, guessed correctly.

"A of Hearts!"

The teenager interjected. "Ace of Hearts, man."

"But it's the letter 'A'."

The other two laughed, one more than the other. The mother took the pile and returned her card along with the bulk.

"Thank you. What was your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

The one on the bench got up, sliding the cards into their box. He seemed to not hear as he bounced the lot in his palm and, finally, handed them to the child.

"You can have 'em. I'm done with cards."

"Wow!" The little one's hands could barely encompass the box itself as he took it in both.

The mother looked up, beaming at the tired-looking young man.

"Thank you so much! He actually really likes cards, y'know that? Well, I mean, you didn't but you do now so... His dad's a real card enthusiast." She smiled down at her son.

"We always come down here in the morning to watch the sun rise. Dan used to come with us but he has work and what with the mortgage... Dan's his dad."

The one on the bench smirked. " 'Dan the Dad'."

She smiled absently. "Yeah."

He looked up at her with a searching gaze. "When did you two meet?"

She was caught off guard by the sudden nature of his query. "Oh gosh, that was a long time ago. Eight years. We got married right out of high school. Well, almost out."

The one on the bench frowned. "What d'you mean?"

She chuckled and ran her fingers through her son's hair. "I got pregnant during my senior year." Todd wrestled away from his mother's fingers.

The one on the bench was silent for a while. Then he got to his feet, stretching one last time. As he started to walk away he turned once more.

"There's a card missing from that deck; the Queen of Hearts."

The mother smiled. "That's okay. Knowing Todd, he won't know it isn't there unless somebody tells him."

They looked over to where he was. He sat organizing the cards on a small hillock. The one with the red eyes shrugged.

"He won't be able to do a few tricks."

She smiled. "He'll get along okay without the card."

He nodded. "It was nice meeting you...?"

"Jen. Call me Jen."

He nodded. "Jen."

He turned and walked away.

Smiling, the mother turned and walked to her son as he finished organizing his cards. She looked back over her shoulder to look for the young man, calling out:

"And your name's...?"

Todd looked up at his mother.

"Whatcha doin', mommy?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, sweetheart."

She scanned once more for the boy with the tear-streaked face.

He was already gone.