The Story Of Caleb

The summer of 2008, I was 14 years old and I had officially stepped into adulthood. I had been kissed for the first time, the second, and the third time. I had drank many more than three times and I had smoked a joint or two at this point. I learned what bras to wear, how to apply mascara, still badly, but at least it established more than my lightly colored lashes naturally did, I learned how to flirt, and loved the rush that I got from getting what I wanted. It became a rush that I soon learned was addictive.

 

It was the summer of 2009. I was 15 years old. I was home in Lake Okoboji, Iowa. I had my new addiction of needing to be wanted by the opposite sex and I had a new rebellious fight inside of me that shone as bright as the 110-degree sun of the Midwest. I had a newly acquired friendship that had accumulated over the last year, her name was Harper, she was fierce, passionate, and full of a fight for any cause or really any reason she could find. I envied her for her boldness in the way she could talk to adults, or how she never could truly feel taken advantage of or talked down too. She was an inspiration and a force to be reckoning with.

 

We began the summer sneaking out, meeting up with boys, boating with a drink in our hands, and skinny-dipping under the stars. Each night followed the same routine. We put mascara on to lengthen our eyelashes and to make our eyes “pop” according to Cover girl. We found the right shade of lipstick and lathered it on; knowing the first boy we kissed would take it off with his lips. We secured our bras, put on short shorts that barely had enough fabric to cover our body parts, much less be considered as dignified, and finally placed a revealing shirt over the bodies God gave us. We walked out the door, and headed out into the night searching for our next conquest and a new story to add to our collection. We were fearless and believed that it would last.

 

The nights became the same, the names of the boys all blurred together. The stories became one large tale that even we the writers had lost vital details too. As the curfews were broken, the rules bended, and the “talking back” became a regular occurrence in conversation, my parents took drastic measures. They forbid me from seeing Harper, believing she was the creator of the problems. There were many tears and over yells, I stated my independence and announced that I would no longer consider any rules or any of what they had to say about my life.

 

I began to sneak out of windows, flip my parents off when I believed they needed to be “put in their place”, and would downright walk away from anyone I didn’t believe was fun, or easy to be this new “me” around. I gained a confidence that any and everything was mine, and that people were simply living in my world. I didn’t let anything bother, and I never cared that the guys got more and more disrespectful as I got more and more eager.

 

One day, as the lake shone under the glistening sun, my friends that had been apart of my life, before I became the new “me”, even before Harper played an entrance into my life. We were walking down by the park, which was considered the “downtown” or main part of this small Iowa town. We were talking about how unfair my parents were, and I was filling them in on some of my “little” escapades I had been on. They were of course enthralled with what I had accomplished and how the new “me” simply would not take “no” for an answer. I could see the envy in their eyes as this insecure, broken girl that stood before them shone with confidence, bravery, and a newly acquired “I don’t care” attitude.

 

There he was, a tall tan man, with dark shaggy hair. He had his shirt off and was placed in his back pocket as he long boarded down the hill to where my friends and I were walking. I stopped, everything stood still around me, and I had to catch my breath to keep my gaze directly on him. My friends were noticing me and asking if I was okay. I brushed them off and walked over to him, he had stopped near two other guys and was now in conversation with them.

 

I took a deep breath, locked eyes with him, reached out my hand, and said, “Hey, I’m Anna”. I smiled as he took my hand and said, “Hi, I am Caleb”. We stood there for a moment letting the sparks cool off between our hands as his friends introduced themselves to me. They invited me to a party that night, took my number, and I walked off to re-join my friends waiting to hear what happened.

 

That night, Caleb came and picked me up, in his dark blue GMC Jimmy, I hopped in and gave him a hug. We headed over to his friend’s house where he introduced me, I talked with a few people and we played a few games of beer pong, and other youthful “college like” games. Caleb then pulled me away and asked if I wanted to talk, he held out his hand and I placed mine in it as he lead me upstairs to a bedroom. We sat down and began talking, he asked me about my family, and my school, living in California, and what my life was like. He in exchange told me about all his brothers and his amazing mom that raised them all, I saw such respect and admiration in his eyes when he spoke of her. Although it seemed as though it was only minutes passing by, an hour and then two went by and I became to know Caleb, as if he were an old friend that I had known for some time.

 

When we both stopped to take a breath, there was a moment of silence as we looked into each other’s eyes, he took my face into his hands and gently placed his lips on mine. He kissed me so gently, so slowly, it was full of passion. The sparks that I had felt when his hand first touched mine, illuminated into a night sky that was full of explosions as his lips slowly met each part of my lips. There were hellos in his kisses, but I was not ready to say goodbye as my friend came up to tell me that she had to get back. Caleb drove us back, as we dropped her off; I knew right then and there that no other man’s kiss would ever feel as passionate or as utterly breathtaking as Caleb’s kiss had.

 

The next day arrived and my heart and mind became clouded with thoughts of only him, we began to hang out each day, each night. Soon after he asked me to be his girl and I responded with a simple kiss.  There was not a moment that we were apart. We spent moments together under the sun holding hands; we kissed under the starry sky. When he drove, our hands never parted, and occasionally neither did our lips.

 

We spent an evening watching a storm come across the lake, and racing back to the car just in time before lightening and the boom of thunder brought down a torrential rainfall. We talked of our dreams, of our hopes, there was nothing that was not discussed, nothing that ever felt uncomfortable or hard to share. I told him about my childhood, my deepest secrets, he shared in my pain, in my tears, held onto me tight, and promised me he would not let me go.

 

I had never felt more comfortable, more fully myself. I was alive and rawer than I had ever been in my life. He made me laugh, and surprised with simple surprises and gestures. He danced with me in the rain, picked me up when I was feeling down, and kept each moment full of magic and love. When I told him I was falling for him, he told me he already had. The love built our relationship, and grew our friendship. We had moments of silence, moments of constant communication, and moments of simple kisses. No matter where we were, us being together were all that mattered to me.

 

At home, my parents were getting furious that I was sneaking out, and one day when I walked into my house, my dad told me I was going to stay with my grandparents for the night. I argued for a minute, but than gave in thinking it was only a night. Once in the car, the doors locked, and I looked over to find a bag of clothes lying next to me, a lot more needed than for just one night.

 

Once at my grandparents, I felt trapped, when my grandfather announced that I would be staying until my parents came through to get me on our way to the airport that would transport me thousands of miles away from my love, Caleb. I couldn’t bear the thought of not saying good-bye, of having our kiss the night before be our last. I cried until I ran out, than I got up and made a plan. I snuck into my grandparents room, borrowed their cell phone to call Caleb, I left him a message that I knew he wouldn’t receive until late after he got off work and then called Harper to explain what had happened, I told her that Caleb was at work and that she needed to tell him he had to come rescue me. She promised to relay the message. I placed the phone back in their room, and waiting until nightfall.

 

Once the sun had set, my grandmother read her latest murder mystery novel on the couch and my grandfather watched the game on TV. I read a book while lying out on the floor, but couldn’t get past one page, planning my escape, hoping Caleb would get my message. Once my grandparents had retired for the night, I lay awake with my bag in one hand, and my yearning for freedom and for Caleb in the other. I counted off that he would get off work at midnight, it would take him an hour to get to me, so around 1’o’ clock I would walk out to the vacant dollar general parking lot near my grandparent’s house.

 

The town I was currently in was called Pocahontas, Iowa, it was where my mother had grown up, and it was basically a main street with residents that all knew each other’s names, and each other’s personal business.

 

The whole town was asleep when the clock finally chimed 1’o’clock. It was time. I quietly turned off the light and gently opened the door. I looked down at my grandparent’s open bedroom door. All I had to do was get out the side door that lead into the garage and out to another door that lead outside without having to open the garage door up and making noise. It was simple enough; I took a deep breath and took a step towards the side door.

 

“Anna, where do you think you are going?” my grandfather’s deep voice came across the hallway. I froze, dropped my bag, stepped out and responded, “just to the bathroom”. I could hear a chuckle deep in his throat as he said, “you think I am stupid, I raised three kids, one of them snuck out more times that I can count, now come over here and lay your a*s down on the couch while I lay in my chair.” I thought for a moment and then preceded to the couch, I could sense the old “me”, not wanting to be disrespectful coming back into the light. I lay down on the couch after a huge sigh. My grandfather lay back in his chair as it creaked. I decided I would wait until he was asleep and then gently creep out. Once I had heard the beginning of a chorus of snores, I slowly arose off the couch.

 

“If you even try and run on out of here, I will hit you with this cane,” my grandfather’s voice startled me as I dropped back onto the couch. I was silent.

 

All of a sudden, I saw a flash of headlights drive past my grandparent’s house. I knew it was Caleb. I could feel his heart, and could sense how near he was. I got a rush of adrenaline, took a deep breath, and stood up, racing towards the door as I said, “I’m sick of feeling trapped, I am done with this, good bye”. I grabbed my bag, unlocked the side door as I heard the creak of my grandfather’s chair and the sound of him trying to lift himself out of it. I raced through the garage door, and didn’t stop sprinting until I reached Caleb’s door, jumped in, and yelled “Drive!”

 

I kissed him once on the road as tears cascaded down my face; I took a deep breath looked at him, and then took in the night sky and the empty highway. We had so much before us, and with our love holding us together we were unstoppable. 

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

Young love and the thrill of it all... the narrative of this is quite good... A rebel coming of age type of story... breaking the rules and ask question later attitude with the main character... I find this is going all for the better as the paragraphs unfold... I usually know if I like something in the first few lines... and the effectiveness is there... and continued to read... I noticed I believe just one area with a misspelled word:

We spent an evening watching a storm come across the lake, and racing back to the car just in time before lightening/lightning...

You have a way of keeping the lines tight and enough details to make the plot thicken... I some what think the better is going to take the worst... as a reader turns the next chapter... but that is for you to decide and give another chapter of this write...