When Motion Stops

               “Think fast!”

               The sound of a tiny wind tunnel whooshes toward me. Hairs stick up on the top of my left ear. I turn to see an ax fly right past me into the target.

“Oh, ho ho ho, hahahaha….mmmmm….” Allie claps her hands to her mouth, failing to stop the laughter. It simply changes from vocal chortles to snorts and squeals.

               “Allison Monroe! You could have killed me!”

               She beams at the playful reprimand, although I was trying to be serious this time.

Back when we first started dating, she’d jumped on the hood of my car while it was moving. I yelled her full name. She hopped off and looked at me like I had two heads, asking if I’d just treated her like her dad. I freaked, apologizing and stumbling over my words. But I’ll never forget it. She cocked her head, cute as a baby basset hound. Her eyes glistened, revealing a calmness I’d never seen in them before. She leaned in the window and said, you know, Derek, no guy has ever called me out on my crazy before… I think I like it. It was at that moment that I knew I’d fall in love with her.

               “Baby, it’s okay. Ha, ha, ha …. sorry, sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh.”

               I grab my jacket, and slip one arm through a sleeve.

               “Derek, c’mon. I’m sorry. Really. C’mon baby, it wasn’t going to hit you. Look at my score. I’m awesome at this. I knew it’d go past you. Baby, I swear; you know I’d never hurt you.”

               Our coach had said no throwing while he was in the john. Now he marches up. His scruffy beard puffs out, trying to match the intensity in his eyes. “What the hell did I just see?! I knew you two would be trouble! Pay your tab at the bar and get out. And don’t ever come back!”

               “Trust me, we’re leaving.” Guess I won’t be playing at The Axe Bar anymore.

               “I really am sorry baby, I just got caught up in the moment. You know my crazy brain; I get these ideas and just have to see what happens. But I promise, I knew you wouldn’t get hurt. I just knew it.” Allie bends down to grab her purse, and the view throws a wet towel over my anger. But deep down, I know that the plump, round flesh peeking out from under her denim mini skirt is going to be the death of me.

               “It’s alright Allie, let’s just get out of here.”

               “Okay baby!”

We exit into the mall corridor. The chorus to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun floats down from the overhead speakers. Allie spins around, throwing her hands out while twisting her fingers toward herself. Her long, blonde curls play a synchronous partner. They sway perfectly in step, neither one leading or following. I love that she doesn’t care if anyone else is dancing. If there’s music, there’s motion. Watching her move is mesmerizing; it nearly carries away my frustration.        

               She waltzes up to me, “Hey baby?”

               “Yeah?”

               “Do we have to leave yet? We can do anything; whatever you want. It’s still early, and we can’t go to my place. My roommate said she’s having friends over tonight, and they are such a drag.”

               Sadly, she’s right. Her roommate’s friends only rival my parents in their level of dullness. I need to move closer. “Whatever I want?”

               “Cross my heart, whatever you want.”

               “Well, there’s not that much to do here, Allie. I guess there’s Putt-Putt next door.”

               “Putt-Putt would be great!”

               Mini-golf is not Allie’s normal idea of fun. She has to do shots just to get through dinner at a restaurant. Ax throwing is more her style; domesticated danger. The glint she’d had in her eyes when she wielded that weapon, it was both exhilarating and terrifying. There’s no way she could play Putt-Putt without adding her own frequency of fun. “You’re not going to act like Tiger Woods, and hit the ball so hard it leaves the park and breaks some guy’s windshield, are you?”

               She dips her head down. Her cheeks go red as she picks at the skin around her pinky. “You know me so well. Fine, I promise I’ll play it straight, okay?”

               I sigh, hoping she makes good on that promise. And we head through the glass doors.

               Eighteen holes stretch before us and I wonder how this will ever keep Allie’s attention. Three notes drift to the first hole and Allie squeals, “Poker Face! I love this song!” As she bops around me, her eyes widen and she gives me a pout. “You first, it’s the least I can do.”

               I score a hole in one on the first three holes.

               “Wow, baby! I didn’t know you were so good at this!”

               “You’ve never wanted to play with me before.”

               “You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t think mini golf could be exciting. But watching you boss that ball around is really hot.”

               She takes a swing. The ball whacks into a giant turtle and rolls back to her feet. “Meanwhile, I suck at this.”

               “You got to use a lighter touch, babe. Let me show you.”

               I stand behind her and blanket her arms with mine, holding her hands against the club. I lean our bodies to the right, and as we shift back to the left, the putter gives a gentle tap. The ball rolls between the turtle and a sand bucket, stopping right in front of the hole. She leans into me, repeating the swaying motion, moving my body with hers to the music. A moan escapes me. Then she spins away, prancing to her ball. Desire fills my eyes as I watch her nudge the club, sinking the ball.

               As we continue to drift through the game, Allie plays by the rules, and doesn’t attempt anything remotely dangerous. Maybe she realizes she did go too far at the Axe Bar. She smiles and laughs, just flowing to the beat of my presence. I wonder if she loves me.

               Approaching the second to last hole, the course has a mini bridge that the ball must cross over. It’s a replica of the bridge ahead that we’ll cross to get to the last hole. The bridge is made of wooden planks and it’s steeply arched. Wooden handrails run across either side. It looks like something you’d only see on stage, and I imagine Allie doing pirouettes across it.

               She whirls past the course.

               “Where are you going?”

               “I want to see if there’s any fish.”

               I set my ball down, eager to beat my mini-golf record.

               “Baby, come look! There’s giant goldfish!”

               “That’s probably koi. Give me a sec, babe. I’ve got this shot lined up perfect.” As I focus on taking my swing, I hear wood creak. My eyes raise to see Allie leaning far over the railing. Her feet lift off the ground and her head starts to drop down the other side. Without a breath, I vault over the course obstacles, tossing the putter behind me. I grab her ankles and yank her back. We both collapse on the bridge.

               “Wow.” Allie gasps. Then she starts giggling.

“What the hell, Allie?! You could have gotten hurt.”

“I was fine, Derek. Lighten up.”

“Lighten up?!” I stand up, and look over the railing. A deadly ballet of jagged rocks lay scattered directly below. “Weren’t you looking? You would have hit those rocks. Damnit Allie, do you really not care about life at all?!”

                She jumps up and scowls, crossing her arms. “Jeez Derek, what’s your problem?!”

               “What’s my problem? What’s your problem?! Maybe you’re not afraid to die. Maybe, you only feel alive when you or someone else is in danger. I don’t really know. What I do know is no matter what you put me through, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You keep treating life with reckless abandon, and it’s killing me!”

               Her face warms. She slowly walks up to me, and, cupping my face in her hands, she says “I love you too, baby.”

               I blink several times, unsure of what I just heard. “What?”

               “You stick with me no matter what insanity I throw at you. I know I’m a lot, and you see me; and you’re still here. So, you must love me, right? Well Derek, I see you too. You’re my anchor, my bullshit detector. And I love you.” She leans in, still cupping my cheeks and gives me a deep kiss.

                I can’t believe today of all days, at Putt-Putt of all places, Allie would tell me she loves me. Man, does she know how to keep me on my toes. The fire of anger in my belly transforms. The flames shimmy down to a primordial place. My heart moves to the rhythm of her soul and my body aches for more.

               “C’mon, let’s just finish the last hole and get out of here. I don’t care if my entire apartment building hears us.”

               “But… my score.”

               Her fingers dance down my sides. “Is it really that important?”

               “Absolutely not.” I spin her around and we two-step off the bridge.

               Arriving at the final hole, Allie teases. “Now, I’m going to stand right here next to you. I’m not going to move one inch.” She leans in and whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.”

               I breathe the deepest sigh of relief, and scope out the course. The greenway inclines, then makes a sharp turn before reaching either a barn or a windmill. Going in the barn, the ball spits out the other side. The ball would have to be knocked back around. The hole in the windmill takes the ball, and the game’s over. The sails on the windmill spin low, nearly touching the ground.

               I focus on the ball. It’ll take some force to go up the incline and around. Allie is so still I swear I can hear her heart beating. My chest swells and I raise the club.

               I swing. The ball flies through the incline and speeds toward the windmill. I hold my breath as I watch the possibility of a hole in one.

But the sails on the windmill suddenly speed up. One snaps, turning on its side. It scoops the ball and launches it in the air. I don’t know where the ball goes—until Allie falls against me. I catch her in my arms and see the indented mark against her temple. Her eyes flutter rapidly.

               “Oh my god, Allie? Allie! Help! Somebody please, help! Allie, wake up baby.” I drop to the ground, cradling her shoulders and head. Hot tears sting my cheeks, and my voice breaks. “What have I done? What have I done? You were supposed to be dancing. I didn't mean for you to stop dancing.”

               Her eyes slowly open.

               “Allie! It’s going to be okay. Just stay awake, okay?”

               She forms the faintest, playful scowl, and whispers “Derek Hughes.” Then her eyes close, and her body ceases all motion.