Ambience

Josh and I walked the short way through the old orchard to the spring.

Every second word out of his mouth was a cuss until the final curve in the bush path opened, and he saw Coral's eyes lock on his as her angel wings flapped in a light breeze.

Ruby stood behind my bestie, adjusting her white headband.

A few days later, Coral told me how she had waited.

She said, "Eventually, Ruby informed me as we stood around doing nothing — Josh was coming with Luke."

My bestie trilled, "My heart fluttered; I felt if I flapped my tinker wings, I could fly."

I recalled my heart skipped when Coral's face lit up as Josh approached the spring.

Coral sighed, "I told Ruby beforehand. Should I hide and surprise him?"

I asked, "What did she say?"

"Oh, 'too childish.' So, I didn't. I wished I had!"

At the Spring, Coral and Josh fidgeted beside each other, unsure of what came next.

Until my bestie quivered excitedly, "Oh, you remembered!"

My mate's face went blank.

He managed, "Your hair looks nice."

No, Coral, I didn't say it aloud; I remembered, and you remembered the photo aged ten.

Josh only recalled his huge coat and a toy rifle.

And someone blew out his birthday candles before he made a wish. Then he exploded like fireworks before his mum relit them.

"Hold hands," I said.

Coral and Josh locked their fingers.

The brunette's eyes fluttered in anticipation.

"I have something to read, and then you are official — boyfriend and girlfriend."

Something to read. 

I tried to find the 'right something' for Coral's felicity. It proved a challenge.

What could bind them? 

I rummaged unsuccessfully through anthologies and quotable quotes books in the school library.

My lightbulb moment came late at night, and I sat upright in bed in the dark. It was like Parson Dean, my Sunday church nemesis finally supplied a helpful thought from his Biblical invective.

The answer to your search is 'the word.'

I rethought it in the clearer light of day, and my intent seemed perfect.

However, I checked with Ruby to confirm my opinion on my brilliant idea.

I bumped into her in the locker bay at school. In her uniform skirt and blazer, she was peanut teensy.

"No, not Corinthians!" she reprimanded.

I thought she'd lecture me because I leaned into her space to hear her in the busy corridor. Ruby ignored my proximity. She figuratively kicked St. Paul in the balls as she scuffed one of her school shoes over the other.

"It won't do! Do a song or a poem. If you do, St. Paul, I won't help."

She reinforced her put down by folding her arms.

I needed her help; I boot-licked, "Okay, No, St Paul."

In my head, I recited it.

Love is patient, love is kind, love never fails.

It sounded good; it infallibly does.

However, I set out to find other words.

Plain good fortune provided them. I found what I needed on Coral's family bookshelf: 100 Selected Poems. 

I sat on the arm of her lounge, her family's bookshelf behind me. Inside the front cover of the slim volume, I plucked off the shelf was an inscription indicating it belonged to Coral's mum.

I flipped the pages, trying to read quickly before Coral returned from changing after school; we intended to go to the mall. I slowed my skimming as I realised the weight of the poet's words and their playfulness.

Coral's mum, Sandy, came through the room and noticed my reading.

She invited, "Do you want to borrow it?"

I didn't state my true purpose; "No, I'm not sure; I want a bursting love poem."

"What you have will do perfectly," she offered, "Read, you shall above all things be glad and young," and she went about her household errands.

I watched Sandy's stylish bearing and realised her refined nature. I discerned the origin of Coral's fashion sense and the genes billowing in her golden hair.

As Coral bounded down her stairs, I jammed the book into my school bag. My bestie remained unaware of my flurry. She wore a raspberry cardigan over a cream-pleated mini.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home and change before we go to the mall?"

She queried kindly; she would have waited.

"No, I don't care. Let's go."

The truth, I didn't worry, grey uniform pants or jeans, it didn't matter.

"Oh, you are such a boy! Let's grab a piece of cake before we go."

At the spring, you shall above all things be glad and young, hit the sweet spot.

Coral more than liked it as she squeezed her boy's hand. Josh's spare hand kept patting the tight bushranger coat pocket flap.

As I finished reading the poem, their eyes sought each other, innocent and awkward. They turned in towards each other, holding one hand each.

Josh muttered, "Well, the poem was okay."

After a pause, "I'd much prefer The Beach Boys," his voice rallied, followed by a smirk.

Coral looked blank.

Ruby tittered and mimed the words; he kissed her.

Josh made his move.

He went to plant a kiss on his girlfriend's cheek. He knew enough about Coral not to start at her lips.

Coral pulled her face and hand away fast.

Josh's lips smacked air.

Ruby snickered.

My mate scratched his head like he already didn't understand the boyfriend, girlfriend world.

Coral stated, "You have to charm me, Josh. You can have my hand."

"Geez, I'd like more!" he whined, "Aw, come on, Coral!" he pleaded.

" Yes, yes," urged Ruby, "Honey-pie, give your sweet lips to him."

And the minx's lips made repeated smack, smack sounds!

I am forever in awe of my bestie's solution. 

Coral requested Josh take off his undersized coat. She held out her hand, and he jerked out of its tightness. Next, the golden girl removed her banded fairy wings. She instructed me to hold the coat.

She told Josh, "Turn around."

He did. She raised his arms, one at a time, and the banded wings spread over Josh's back.

"Don't turn around until I say," she instructed.

Josh didn't move.

Coral held out her hand for the bushranger coat. I gave it to her. She slid it over her pink top and white tutu skirt.

On Coral, mismatched clothing never looked so elegant. 

On Josh, mismatched clothing never looked crazier.

"Turn around."

Josh did.

Coral held out her hand. Her boyfriend joined his hand with hers. Together, they started towards the track, leading back to the old orchard.

I heard Coral, "Handsome, take me fishing. I know you like that! I'll bring a picnic basket and my cheeks."

Ruby and I walked out a fair way behind them.

She disclosed, "She's one-of-a-kind Coral; she bursts with sharing."

I thought my usual; I liked Coral.

The brunette continued, "The romance stuff - she should lose it."

I was glad Coral had her romance.

"You can have pleasure without complicating it -no romance needed!"

"Can you?" my voice close to objecting.

I bent my head downwards to my left.

She glared up at me, steely-eyed. There wasn't much to her besides her high ponytail.

We moved through the decaying orchard and its gnarled, unloved trees. The grass around them was dandelion-infested.

Coral and Josh swung hands joyfully ahead of us.

Ruby stooped to pick a dried dandelion.

"Trust me, sunshine, we're all going to experience it. You'll find out in real life romance doesn't last. Better not to start with it."

She twirled the dandelion.

I didn't know where Ruby's opinions formed. I speculated her family life might be the key. Catholic parents didn't divorce. In the short time since Coral introduced her to Josh and me, Ruby evaded being forthcoming regarding the personal details of her life.

She stopped spinning the dandelion.

Ruby puffed over the pappus. Some seeds flew; others plummeted fast. Filaments caught in a breeze we couldn't even feel. A scene near magical as the seeds took flight. Some gliding, others hanging, some bobbed up dancing in the air.

I heard Ruby rode and sailed. The rumour mill said she fricking excelled at both. She was an academic whizz with no chinks in her schoolroom knowledge. The petite miss spoke French and waxed fluent in Italian. I would have liked to know this, Ruby, but we hadn't gelled from the get-go.

She blew hard, and the remaining pappus on the head of the dandelion dispersed.

Ruby's eyes focussed ahead, "Words – you did better than okay, ditching, The Bible. Those words are words, you puppy. That's what I'm going to call you! You follow her like a puppy! And words are said, only as words, they don't hold, they float away like pappus on the wind."

Sometimes, when Ruby spoke, she sounded too grown-up.

I thought this girl didn't belong at the spring.

She railed, "Sweet Jesus, I wouldn't have come if you organised this last week on Valentine's Day. Or I would have brought a bucket of horse muck and showered the lot of you! You are lucky it didn't happen!"

Then I sensed Ruby belonged at the spring.

She adjusted her ponytail, cherubic and youthful high. Her eyes fluttered wide, revealing a previously unseen innocence.

"The spring," she lilted, "it has ambience."