Archer's Voice

Page 10

He brought both hands up and said, You can speak the old-fashioned way. I can hear you, remember?
I blinked at him and after a few seconds brought my hands up. If it's okay with you, I'd like to speak your language. I smiled a small smile.
He stared at me, an unreadable expression in his eyes before he stood up.
I have to get back to work, he said.
Work? I asked.
He nodded at me, but chose not to elaborate. Well, okay, then.
Then I guess I should go?
He just looked at me.
Can I come back? I asked. To see the puppies?
He frowned at me for a second, but then nodded, yes.
I breathed out. Okay. If your gate is open, I'll know it's okay to come in.
He nodded again, a smaller nod this time, barely noticeable.
We stared at each other for a few more seconds before I smiled and turned around and walked back up his driveway. I called to Phoebe who came running this time and scooped her up. I turned around at his gate and he was still standing in the same place, watching me. I waved a small wave and closed his gate behind me.
CHAPTER 11
Bree
The next day, I walked down Archer's driveway hesitantly, biting my lip. I heard what sounded like rock hitting rock somewhere on the back side of his house. As I rounded the corner, I spied Archer, shirtless, on his hands and knees laying stones for what looked like the beginning of a side patio.
"Hi," I said softly, and his head snapped up. He looked slightly surprised, but… pleased? Maybe? He certainly wasn't the easiest person to read, especially since I couldn't see all of his features clearly under his beard and the hair that fell over his forehead and around his jaw.
He nodded and raised his hand, indicating a big rock that was sitting to the right of his project and went back to his work.
I had left the diner at two and then gone home and taken a quick shower, gotten on my bike and ridden out to Archer's. I had left Phoebe with Anne because I wasn't sure if other dogs should be around the puppies yet or not.
When I had arrived at Archer's gate, I hadn't been able to help the smile that overtook my face when I saw that it was very slightly open.
I made my way over to the rock he had just indicated and sat on the edge of it, watching him quietly for a minute.
Apparently he was a stone mason in his free time? It must have been him who had laid the long driveway and patio in front of his house. The guy was full of surprises, one after the other. I couldn't help but notice the way his biceps flexed and strained as he lifted each stone and set it in its place. No wonder the guy was so cut. All he did was work.
"Okay, so I made a list," I said, eyeing him and scooting my butt higher on the large rock, making myself more comfortable.
Archer looked up at me, raising his eyebrows.
I was using my voice to speak so that he could continue working without having to watch me.
But he sat up on his knees, putting his gloved hands on his muscular thighs, and looked at me. He was wearing a pair of faded workout shorts, knee pads, and work boots. His na**d chest was tan and had a light sheen of sweat on it.
A list? He asked.
I nodded, leaving the list on my lap. Names. For the puppies.
He cocked his head to the side. Okay.
So, I said, feel free to veto, I mean, them being your dogs and all, but I thought Ivan Granite, Hawk Stravinski, and Oksana Hammer were top choices.
He stared at me. And then his face did something miraculous. It broke out into a grin.
My breath hitched in my throat and I gaped at him. You like them? I finally asked.
Yeah, I like them, he said.
I nodded, a slow grin taking over my face. Well, okay then.
I sat there for just a little while longer, enjoying the summer sunshine and his presence while I watched him work–his strong body moving the stones around, placing them where he wanted them to go.
He glanced up at me a few times and gave me a small, shy smile. We didn't exchange many words after that, but the silence between us was comfortable, companionable.
Finally, I stood up and said, "I have to get going, Archer. My neighbor, Anne, has an appointment and I need to pick up Phoebe."
Archer stood too, wiping his hands on his thighs and nodding. Thank you, he signed.
I smiled and nodded and walked toward his gate. I rode home with a small, happy smile on my face.
**********
Two days later I drove past Archer's house on my way back from lying on the small lake beach and his gate was slightly open again. A thrill shot down my spine as I got off my bike. I let myself in and I walked down his driveway, carrying Phoebe in my arms.
I knocked on his door, but there was no answer and so I followed the sounds of the dog barks I heard coming from the direction of the lake. When I stepped through the trees, I spotted Archer and Kitty a little ways down the shore. I walked to meet him and when he spotted me, he gave me a small, shy smile and said, Hi.
I smiled, squinting at him in the bright sunshine. I placed Phoebe down and said, Hey.
We walked along the shore for a little bit in easy silence. The more time we spent together, even not speaking, the more comfortable I felt with him. I could sense that he was growing more comfortable with me too.
Archer picked a rock up off the beach and hucked it at the lake. It skipped across the lake again and again and again, barely eliciting any spray from the still water. I laughed out.
Show me how you just did that!
Archer watched my hands and then looked down at the sandy shore, searching for a stone.
He found one he was happy with and handed it to me. The flatter, the better, he said. Now throw it sort of like a Frisbee, so that the flat side of it glances off the surface of the water.
I nodded and lined up my shot. I threw it and watched as it skated over the surface once and then came up and hit the water again. I whooped and Archer smiled.
He picked up another small stone and hucked it at the lake. It hit the surface and skipped… and skipped… and skipped about twenty times. "Show off," I muttered.
I looked over at his amused face. You're good at everything you do, aren't you? I asked, cocking my head to the side and squinting at him.
He looked thoughtful for a few seconds before signing, Yes.
I laughed. He shrugged.
After a minute I asked, Your uncle homeschooled you?
He glanced at me. Yes.
He must have been smart.
He thought about that for a second. He was. Mostly with math and anything science-related. His mind would wander, but he taught me what I needed to know.
I nodded, remembering Anne telling me that Nathan Hale was always smart in school. Before I came out here, I asked about you in town, I said, feeling slightly shy.
Archer looked over at me and frowned slightly. Why?
I tilted my head and considered that. After the first time we met… something drew me to you. I bit my lip. I wanted to know you. My cheeks heated.
Archer stared at me for a second as if he was trying to figure something out. Then he picked up another flat stone and threw it at the water, making it skip so many times that my eyes lost it before it ever stopped.
I shook my head slowly. If they only knew.
He turned fully toward me. If who only knew what?
Everyone in town. Some of them think you're not right in the head, you know. I laughed softly. It's laughable really.
He shrugged again and picked up a stick and threw it to Kitty who was coming toward us on the shore.
Why do you let them think that?
He let out a breath and stared at the lake for a few seconds before turning to me. Just easier that way.
I studied him and then sighed. I don't like it.
It's been this way for a long time, Bree, it's fine. It works for everyone involved.
I didn't understand it exactly, but I could see the tense lines of his body as we talked about the town and so I backed off, wanting him to feel comfortable with me again.
So, what else can you teach me? I asked, teasingly, changing the subject.
He raised an eyebrow and looked into my eyes. My stomach clenched and a strange flock of butterflies took flight underneath my ribs. What can you teach me? he asked.
I shook my head slightly, tapping my pointer finger on my lips. I could probably teach you a thing or two.
Oh yeah? What? His eyes flared very slightly, but then he looked away.
I swallowed. "Um," I whispered, but then continued in sign so that he would have to look back at me. I used to be a really good cook. I wasn't sure why I said it. I didn't really have any intention of cooking for anyone, or teaching anyone to cook. But in that moment, it was the first thing that came to my mind, and I wanted to fill the strange awkwardness that had lapsed between us.
You want to teach me how to cook?
I nodded my head very slowly. I mean, if that's not one of the many things you've already mastered.
He smiled. I still wasn't used to getting them, and this one made my heart speed up just a little bit. They were like a rare gift that he gave out. I snatched it up and stored it somewhere inside of me.
I'd like that, he said after a minute.
I nodded, smiling, and he gifted me with another smile back.
We walked along the lake shore for another hour, finding rocks and skipping them in the water until I could get mine to skip three times.
When I got home later, I realized that I hadn't had such a good day for a really long time.
**********
The next day, I packed up some sandwiches at the diner, drove home, showered and changed, put Phoebe in the bike basket, and rode out to Archer's again. Despite the fact that I was the one showing up at his house and initiating our time together, I felt like he was putting in effort as well, just by allowing me to visit him.
So, Archer, I said, If your uncle didn't know sign language, how did you speak to him?
We were on his lawn, Kitty and the pups lying on a blanket with us, the puppy's fat little bodies waddling around, getting lost in their blindness before their mama nuzzled them back to her.
Phoebe was lying nearby too. She was mildly curious about the puppies, but didn't pay them much attention.
Archer looked up at me from where he was lying, his head propped up on his hand. He sat up slowly so that he could use his hands.
I didn't do much speaking. He shrugged. I wrote it down if it was important. Otherwise, I just listened.
I regarded him silently for a minute, wishing I could see his expression better–but it was hidden under all the un-groomed hair. How did you learn sign language? I finally asked quietly.
I taught myself.
I tilted my head, taking a bite of the pastrami sandwich in my hand. Archer had polished his sandwich off in about thirty seconds flat, eating most of it, but sharing pieces of pastrami with Kitty. I put the sandwich down. How? From a book?
He nodded. Yeah.
Do you have a computer?
He looked up at me, frowning slightly. No.
Do you have electricity?
He looked at me with amusement. Yes, I have electricity, Bree. Doesn't everyone?
I chose not to enlighten him to the fact that he kind of came off as someone who didn't necessarily have any modern conveniences. I tilted my head. Do you have a television? I asked after a minute.
He shook his head. No, I have books.
I nodded, considering the man in front of me. And all these projects that you do–stonework, gardening–you just teach them to yourself?
He shrugged. Anyone can learn to do anything if they have the time. I have the time.
I nodded, picking a piece of meat out of the side of my sandwich and chewing it for a second before asking, How did you get all the stones for the driveway and the patio?
Some I collected around the lake, some I bought in town at the garden shop.
And how did you get them back here?
I carried them, he said, looking at me like it was a crazy question.
So you don't drive? I asked. You walk everywhere?
Yes, he answered, shrugging.
Okay, enough with the twenty questions, he said. What about you? What are you doing in Pelion?
I studied him for a second before answering, his golden brown eyes trained on me, waiting for what I was going to say. I'm sort of on a road trip–I started, but then I stopped. No, you know what? I ran away, I said. My dad… passed away and… some other stuff happened that I had a hard time handling, and I freaked out and I ran away. I sighed. That's the truth of it. I'm not sure why I just told you that, but that's the truth of it.
He studied me for a little longer than I was comfortable with, feeling exposed, so I looked away. When I saw his hands move in my peripheral vision, I looked back at him. Is it working? He asked.
"Is what working?" I whispered.
Running away, he said. Is it helping?
I stared at him. Mostly, no, I finally answered.
He nodded, staring at me thoughtfully before looking away.
I was glad he didn't try to come up with something encouraging to say. Sometimes an understanding silence was better than a bunch of meaningless words.
I looked around the immaculate yard, to the small house, compact but well kept. I wanted to ask him how he had the money to live out here, but I didn't think that was polite. He probably lived off of some insurance policy his uncle had left him… or maybe his parents. God, he had had so many losses.
So Archer, I finally said, moving the conversation in another direction, that cooking lesson I mentioned… Are you free this Saturday? Your place. Five o'clock? I raised an eyebrow.
He smiled slightly. I don't know. I'll have to check with my social secretary.
I snorted. You being funny?
He raised an eyebrow.
Better, I said.
He smiled bigger. Thank you, I've been working on it.
I laughed. His eyes twinkled and moved to my mouth. Those butterflies took flight again and we both looked away.
After a little bit, I gathered up my stuff and my little dog, said goodbye to Archer, and started walking up the driveway.