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Milo
MILO GLANCED AT BRAD in the passenger seat as he made the turn off the highway toward Wyman’s campground. It was the first time he had driven with someone else in the car and he was more than a little bit nervous about it. Brad kept his eyes on the road and continued to face forward even when Milo accidently scraped the railing at the parking spot when they reached the management office. Milo hopped out of the car and checked for damage. There was a tiny yellow stripe on the fender. He could buff it out later with a little water and miracle shine wax.
He looked up and saw Brad opening the car door and rushed around to meet him. The doctors at the Veteran’s Health and Rehabilitation Hospital had refitted Brad’s prosthetic legs and he was still working with the ortho-therapist on balance and endurance. He had crushing upper body strength and pushed off anyone that tried to help him. Milo held the door open and that was all. Brad emerged and slapped him on the back so hard that he almost tumbled into the concrete.
“Who’s that guy?” Brad mumbled and pointed at the man wearing a gray suit and tie standing near the office.
“I don’t know. Never seen him before. Doesn’t look like a camper to me.” Milo turned and tried to get a better look at the visitor. He closed the car door, glanced at his watch and then followed along as Brad approached the stranger.
The man noticed them approaching and held out his hand to greet them. Brad walked past him and opened the office door. “I called Renfro Parts and Service to help take care of my ATV,” he said and looked at the man through the corner of his eye. “You don’t look like much help.” He entered the office, walked over to the coffee maker and found a clean carafe.
“No, I’m not a mechanic.” The man looked at Milo and then followed Brad into the office. “I’m Inspector Glen Harris.” He held out his hand again.
“Of?” Brad looked the man over, then turned his back and dumped the day-old coffee grounds out of the basket.
“Of?” the man repeated. “Oh, I inspect facilities like these that house more than twenty residents on average through rental leases.” He looked at Milo once again. “Rental leases whether annual, weekly or ...”
“Why are you here?” Brad set the coffee maker in action and faced the man. Milo looked away. He wondered which side of Brad this guy was going to land on. His guess, it wasn’t going to be the good one.
“I’m going to be on the property here for the next few days, looking around and making sure everything is up to code.” The inspector continued, “I’m sure you received the notice that an inspector would be coming around this month.”
“Go help yourself.” Brad turned away and poured a cup of coffee.
The man nodded, backed out of the office and started up the trail toward the group of cabins along Raindrop Lane. Brad watched him from the window with a narrowed gaze.
“Seems strange. You ever seen any of these guys before?” he grumbled and took a sip from his cup.
“No, but maybe they talked with Josh before.” Milo watched from over Brad’s shoulder.
“I don’t like it.”
“Probably nothing, right?” Milo grabbed a paper towel and wiped the trace of brick dust from his face, straightened his shirt and adjusted the cuff in his pants.
“Who you trying to look pretty for?” Brad said with a chuckle.
“Funny guy.” Milo smirked and checked for armpit stains on his shirt, then stepped outside and walked up the main trail leading to the community play area. He approached the long wooden bench, stopped and checked his breath. He searched his pockets and found a piece of wintergreen candy. He popped it into his mouth, then took a deep breath and a step forward.
“Hi,” he said softly and tapped the shoulder of the young lady in the olive green peacoat, jeans and orange and black Stompz sneakers that sold out the preorder within an hour of the launch. She turned and looked up and greeted him with a wide smile and oversized sunglasses. She wore golden hoop earrings with small multi-colored teardrop dangles in the center that fluttered as she turned to acknowledge him, and a small nose ring in her left nostril.
Milo stepped closer and the breeze lifted the scent of her perfume.He inhaled the floral aroma of jasmine but not the sickly-sweet kind like the cheap brands. Definitely, not cheap. Her skin was the color of the perfect crème brulee but smooth as glass. He was stunned. She was nothing like he expected. And suddenly, he felt like a dork.
“You’re late,” she said and turned away, but he could see that she was still smiling.
“Sorry, I was helping someone with a project and lost track of time. I’m glad you made it.”
Juliana “Jules” Latimore had graduated from high school a year early and was the secret behind his A+ final English paper. They had met through the online writing lab and study hall through Arrow Learning Center. The computer had selected random “study buddies” and they were a match. He had asked to meet so that he could thank her getting him through all the graduation requirements. But that wasn’t the real reason.
He would have never matched her in real life to the zombie-eyed owl avatar she used. In person, she was pretty, and smelled nice, and didn’t run away when she saw him. He should say something. But he couldn’t. He just stood there looking at her, with his mouth open as if his mind forgot how to make words.
“Are you going to sit down, or ...?” Jules said with a little nod toward the seat.
“Yeah, sorry.” He sat next to her, not too close, and folded his hands in his lap. He stared at the ground in front of them and watched her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t come here to listen to you breathe. He glanced over and asked, “Do you always wear your hair like that?” That was a dumb thing to say.
He was trying to gage how to address a bigger question and it seemed like a good place to start. Or maybe it wasn’t. This was not going well. He was exhausted already. When he was online, it was so much easier to say things. Texting was even better. He wasn’t prepared to actually talk to her. He should have ... like, made a list or something. God, I’m an idiot.
“Like what?” She turned toward him but not enough to actually look at him.
“Like,” he pointed, making a circular motion toward her hair, “up in those round balls ...”
“Bantu knots?”
“Yeah, I guess ...” He was trapped in that stupid question with no way out. “When you find yourself in a hole, put down the shovel and stop digging,” Brad would always say. Milo wished someone would kick the shovel out of his hand and hit him in the back of the head with it. She thinks I’m a loser.
“I wear them sometimes, when my mother has time to help me. Why? You don't like my hair?”
“No. I mean, I like it a lot. I just wondered how you ... I mean ... I guess you must depend on your mother a lot for things.”
“Not really. You'd be surprised, I think. I can do pretty much anything I want on my own.”
“Oh, okay. So, you can see good enough ... I mean, how much?” C’mon, get it together and just ask her.” He lowered his voice. “Can you see me?”
“Of course, I can see you, just not very clear. But I can see enough to know it’s you from your profile picture. If that's what you mean. Here ...”
She wiped her hand on her sweater and held it up with her palm toward Milo. He leaned forward. Slowly she reached toward his face and traced the contours of his jaw, cheekbones and the bridge of his nose lightly with her fingertips. Then, she slid her hand up to the top of his head and rubbed her palm across the soft nubby waves a few times. “Do you always wear your hair like this?”
They both laughed. He loved the sound of her laughter and the way the corners of her mouth turned up into little curls. So cute. The one thing he had been most curious about was her voice. It was nice, just like her smile and laugh and ... everything about her. When she teased him during the school year, it didn’t hurt. She was never mean or condescending. He wouldn’t have made it through his classes without Jules.
He was glad that he had finally gotten the nerve to ask her to visit Wyman’s. It was a beautiful day, not too hot, and the breeze made it comfortable enough to sit awhile without wanting to rush inside the management office for the A.C. where Brad would be spying on them. Jules was fun and serious and smart and ... so pretty. He cupped her hand in his and they sat quietly. They made jokes about the anxious mothers chasing after the children that tumbled from the geodome monkey bar playset and rope ladders hanging from the trees.
“I live over there.” Milo pointed toward the cabin that he still shared with Moe. “There's a section for the campers over there. We live in the other part for permanent residents. It's nice here, I think.”
“It's pretty secluded.”
“You say that like it's a bad thing.” He shrugged. “Sometimes it's good to be away from people. Don't you think?”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I can understand that, especially when it's a nice day like this.”
She turned her hand in his a few times, rubbed her palm along his wrist and forearm, then placed it back in his hand. What did that mean? Probably nothing. He tried to convince himself not to over-react to every little thing that she did and said, but he couldn’t help it when his stomach flipped upside down. Why was he so nervous? He pulled his hand away as his palm started to sweat again and his face heated up. She put her hand in her coat pocket and turned away from him.
“I should probably get home now,” she said but didn’t make any motion to leave.
“Do you like horses?” he blurted out.
“Sure, I guess. I don't know any personally.” She laughed again, then turned to face him. “But, when I was little,” she lowered her voice as if she was about to tell her deepest secret. “I used to dream about being a princess and I rode a horse and went into battle with a giant sword. My horse was named Nayia and she was black and white and covered with glitter. And she could fly and when we got really high up in the sky,” she stopped, looked into the sky and smiled, “Nayia turned into a dolphin.” She giggled and accidently let out a snort, then giggled more until it became a moment of silly contagious laughter.
“Well, some of my best friends are horses.” Milo touched her hand again. “I’ve never met a dolphin, though. Would you like to ride? A horse, I mean. We don’t have any dolphins here,” he teased. “I can take you. We can walk over to the stables where we board the horses for the guests. It's not far, if you don't mind walking ... or the smell. It's not that bad, but if you're not used to it ...”
“Alright, I think that would be fun. If you're sure it's okay, then let's do it.” She held out her hand, he slipped his arm under it and led her down the path toward the stables.
“Can you see the trees over there?” He pointed toward the river far off from the woods where the native dogwood, scarlet oak and sweetgum trees were full, and the wildflowers speckled the landscape with vibrant blooms.
“I can see the colors and the shapes just fine. Even though it's not like you see it, it's still beautiful to me. After the next surgery, things will be better. That's what they promise, anyway.”
Milo tightened his grip on her hand as they walked down the path that led to the stalls where he kept Jinx and Bebe. Jules listened intently as he explained everything he knew about their breeds and what they liked to eat and how much exercise they should get and ...
“I knew I'd find you with the horses, Milo,” Ebony shouted from the path behind them.
“Hi, best friend.” Jules chuckled and her smile lit up her whole face.
Milo pointed to his watch and frowned at Ebony. She rolled her eyes at him and shrugged.
“I know I'm a little early, but, oh well ... What you guys doing anyway?”
“I was going to try riding a horse today but that's probably not going to happen, right?” Jules said and released Milo’s hand. “I should be getting back home before my father has a cow.”
“I can drive you home. You know I have my own car now,” Milo said trying not to sound pushy, but Ebony showed up too early and that wasn’t his fault.
“Yeah, I heard you got a car, that’s great.” Jules said sweetly. “But my parents saw me leaving with Ebony, so I better not give them something to get on my case about, you know what I mean?”
“Plus, they trust me to get Jules home safe.” Ebony stuck her tongue out at Milo.
“Okay, well ...” Milo studied the ground between them.
“Yeah, let's go Jules.” Ebony put her arm around her friend and pulled her along. “And, Milo, don't forget about catering my party. I know there's a waiting list to hire you. But that was our deal if I drove Jules out here, remember?”
“Sure, just get the grill and tables set up. I'll handle the rest.” He tried not to sound disappointed but when would he get another chance to be alone with Jules?
“Are you going to cook everything for Eb's party, Milo?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then I'll be sure to get there early before everything's all gone.”
“Great.” He had hoped she would be there, but he wasn’t the host, so he didn’t invite her. He was just the “grill guy”. He perked up at the idea of seeing Jules again. “I'll set some food aside for you. Just be sure to come find me as soon as you get there.”
“C’mon, let's go Jules. You'll see each other again, if the world doesn't end before next Saturday.” Ebony rolled her eyes again and waved as Milo made an angry face at her behind Jules’ back. She led her friend out of the stables and toward the parking area.
Ebony was always the one to start the drama, but he had to be friends with her to get close to Jules. If everything worked out, he wouldn’t need to sneak around like this for long. Now that everyone was booking graduation and pool party events, his catering gigs were taking off and he could start putting money aside. He would be able to take Jules out on a real date by the end of summer before she went off to Birston College.
He was a little apprehensive about meeting her parents just yet. He had heard about Mr. Latimore and felt like he might have trouble getting past the negative stereotype toward Keeferton boys. Plus, he lived in a campground not a real neighborhood, for now anyway. If he could show Mr. Latimore that he was a hard worker and kept his reputation clean, just maybe he had a chance to impress him. But that was a long shot.
Milo was lost in thought as he rounded the trail back toward his cabin when a couple of guys cornered him and forced him against the wood pile.
“You got the keys or what?”
“Umm, no, not with me.” Milo said and wrestled against them but couldn’t get free. He stared in the face of the one twisting his arms behind his back. His name was Flip because he was bi-polar and stayed off his meds. Milo wasn’t afraid of Flip because he didn’t mean to harm people and you could usually reason with him. Everybody just stayed out of his way rather than be bothered. Almost everybody.
Norman stepped forward from behind Flip and Milo couldn’t stop the dread surging through his body. This was the third encounter with the guy since he was released from Juvie and found Milo at the campgrounds. He wasn’t as big as Flip, but he had two major problems. He had a few near-death experiences and because he survived them all, he thought he couldn’t die. He believed some kind of magic or juju covered him no matter what. He thought he could get away with murder, because he had. And, everyone in the streets knew it. The second problem was, Norman hated everyone. Period.
“Where are they?” Norman demanded.
“I don't have them. I mean, I'm not in charge of that. So ...”
“But you can get them. Right?”
“Well ...”
“Well, what?”
“I'll work on it. Give me some time.”
“Hmm, how much time?”
“I'll let you know. Okay?”
“How ‘bout I let you know?” Norman shoved his finger into Milo’s chest. “Next time I see you, you better have them keys for me. You got that?”
“Yeah.”
“Your girlfriend is kinda pretty.” Norman looked toward the parking lot where Jules was getting into Ebony’s car.
“She's not my girlfriend.”
Norman laughed and Flip joined in.
“What's her name?”
Milo stood in silence. He should’ve stood up to Norman a long time ago. If Flip wasn’t in the picture, he would take him on right now.
“I seen her before,” Flip spoke up. “She lives over in Pettit Circle. That blue house with the white porch and three-car garage. That one. Big money.” Flip released Milo’s arms and shoved him back one more time.
“You don’t need to know her name.” Milo said through gritted teeth, “or anything else about her.”
“It don’t matter what her name is.” Norman looked him over. “I know how to find her. And if you don't give me what I want, I'll have to drive by and ... introduce myself.”
Milo lunged at Norman and almost reached him, but Flip grabbed him from behind and put him in a headlock.
Norman pointed at Milo’s face. “Who’s got the keys for the cabins out by Route 40?”
“Probably that handy man.” Flip answered as Milo struggled to catch his breath.
“The cripple that’s always sitting in the front office?”
“Leave him outta this.” Milo struggled to reach Norman, then stopped and closed his eyes. He remembered a move that Brad taught him.
He twisted sideways and lowered his right shoulder into Flip’s chest, then swept one leg behind the boy’s legs, leaned backward and tripped him to the ground. Flip landed hard on the gravel and sat there dazed. Milo stood over Flip and steadied himself, then turned around to deal with Norman, and that’s when he felt the pistol smash against his skull. And everything went black.
When Milo regained consciousness the contents of his pockets were strewn on the ground around him, but nothing was missing. He staggered to his feet and made his way to the management office to look for the first aid kit.
Brad glanced at him and grumbled, "What happened?"
“Nothing.” Milo walked past him and sifted through the box of bandages and ointment. Finally, he reached into the cooler under the desk, took out a can of beer and rested it against his face.
“Right. That nothing put a big knot on your forehead.”
“I fell. Like I said, it was nothing.” Milo sat on the desk and tried to sort through his feelings. He didn’t own the campgrounds. If Norman wanted free cabins, what was the big deal? But if he gave in this time, there would be a next time and it would never end.
“Okay, alright. I'll butt out. None of my business. I get it.” Brad reached into the cabinet above his head and lifted out a set of binoculars, placed them up to his eyes and slowly scanned the parking area. He adjusted the magnification and turned toward a row of cars near the Tiny-Tots lot. “You know, I gotta talk to Randall about installing some equipment up here. These things are worthless.” He tossed the binoculars in the trash bin across the room with a bang.
“You just want to check out the ladies.” Milo said and put the beer down on the desk.
“Mind your business, son.” Brad cracked the beer open and took a sip.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“I don't know. Can you?”
“How do you know if a girl is the one?”
“The one?”
“Yeah, you know. When you meet a girl and she's nice and all that. And she kinda lets on like she’s into you and ...”
“Oh, the one.” Brad grinned.
“Right. How do you know? “
“Well, it’s pretty special.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward. “It’s like magic. Once in a lifetime. Like nothing you’ve ever felt before. When you know, you know.” He took a couple long gulps of beer.
“I guess,” Milo said and patted the swollen spot near his hairline. He could cover it with a ball cap. No one would know, except Brad, and he would never tell. “Did you ever meet the one?”
“Me?” Brad laughed and tossed the empty can into the recycle bin. “Oh yeah, hundreds of times.”