Checking on Lina

I kept walking down S 12th St. towards Union Avenue—passed Stevens Street and a few other small side streets. I had just reached Proctor Street, when a few emergency vehicles passed me and turned onto Madison Street. They stopped just around the corner.

"Lina." I ran back worried that something had happened to her.

Someone was sitting in one of the police cars and another individual was being treated. I walked towards them, wanting to make sure it wasn't Lina, but an officer stopped me.

"I'm sorry, Son. You shouldn't be here."

"I'm looking for Lina."

"Lina? She would be sitting in the police car, waiting an escort home. She's not very talkative though."

"Can I speak with her?"

"Guess so."

The officer walked back with me to the car and let me sit next to her. Lina's head was bowed. The side of her face only lit up by the flashing police lights. Her bag rested on her feet and her hands were balled into fists in her lap.

"Lina, are you okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Looks like things are about wrapped up here, so I'll take you back to campus now," the officer said.

Lina nodded, turning her gaze out the window.

The officer dropped us off next to the Wheelock Student Center, where a few security personnel were waiting to make sure she got inside Trimble Hall okay. I walked with them before they walked with me as well to Todd Hall, just around the corner. It was odd being escorted since I knew I could defend myself. But what about Lina? What had happened between her and the other person?

It wasn't until the next morning that I heard that Lina had been involved in a knife fight. I shook my head. How did she manage to get out of that without getting hurt? I thought about asking her in class, but she wasn't there. Afterward I scoured Trimble hall and the library, but Lina wasn't in either place. As I left the library I saw her climbing the stairs to the Music Building—called Schneebeck by all the students.

Taking the stairs by two, I followed her in and wandered down the halls, peaking into the windows of several rooms to see if she was there. It wasn't until I was looking through the practice rooms that I found her. She sat at the piano, a green music book open in front of her. Her back was to the door. I tried the handle and found it unlocked. She finished playing a song and turned the pages to another before she started playing once more.

I wondered what book she was playing from and moved the book slightly so I could read the title. It was the same as the hymnal at her church. Her fingers stumbled over a few notes and her hands pressed several keys at the same time, making a loud dissonant sound. Immediately I set the book back.

"Okay, sorry," I said, backing off.

"It's not you," she said, with a slight catch to her voice.

"Lina?" I asked, leaning against the piano slightly so I could look at her face better.

She turned away and looked at her cell phone.

"Why weren't you in class today?"

"I didn't feel like going."

"What? Ms. Perfection, purposely skipped out on class? Are you feeling okay? You're not getting sick are you?" I asked, trying to get her to smile.

Lina turned back to the music and started again.

I plinked several keys to get her to stop, but she wouldn't. "Come on, Lina. Was church really so bad that you won't talk to me anymore?"

She still played.

"Lina," I said, stealing her music.

I hoped that would stop her, but it didn't. Lina just played several other songs that she didn't need music for. Finally I slammed the book down on the piano and left. Why was she ignoring me now? I could get almost any girl to open up, even if all they did was yell. For a little while, yesterday, Lina had drawn me close. Let me get a glimpse of something, but now she was pushing me away. Was it something I said? I didn't think I had done anything to her to warrant such a cold response.

Locking myself in my room in Todd Hall, I opened my latest notebook and wrote. Several people knocked on my door, but I ignored them. After writing out all my frustration, I sat and stared at nothing. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw the story that Lina had edited Friday. This was the first time I had tried to write about an actual war. Picking it up now, I read through all her comments. There were no scriptural references, nothing familiar. This Lina was dark and I found I liked her even less than the over-religious Lina. The comments were coarse—blunt and extreme. Instead of sentiments of peace, as I found in most of her stories, she had encouraged this war, suggesting ways to draw the reader closer so they too could experience the damaging effects the soldiers took while in combat.

Each time Lina had taken a stand for something she had been strong, but this was as overpowering as a General yelling at a Private. When I finished a first read through, I set it down amazed. I remembered her gaze as she was finishing. Never before had I seen such an intense look on a woman's face. It was stronger than some of the soldiers I knew well, who had been in the service for many years; some of them having been deployed and returned. It was from the experiences these soldiers told me that I had taken my inspiration to write such a piece. Still, after I had finished it, I felt it was weak. I guess Lina had seen it, too.

Turning to my laptop, I copy and pasted my story into a second document so I could revise it while still keeping a copy of the original. I worked late into the night and through the first early morning hours. I finished the editing at 3 am. I saved both copies and emailed them to my friend, Lt. Sams, who had just returned from fighting overseas. From under my bed I pulled out a Coca Cola and found my pack of cigarettes before I wandered outside. The air was cool and crisp. A light frost covered the lawn. The stars were only dimmed by the lamp lights along the paths of campus.

As I smoked and drank my Coke, a lone figure jogged up the path towards Wyatt, but then came down the sidewalk from Thompson. They seemed a bit small for a man, but with so many marathon runners these days it was hard to tell. They turned towards the library and I lost sight of them. Not five minutes later, they were back and walked out onto Todd field. In their hand they carried a four foot stick. They twirled it a few times before they bowed and began a series of defensive and offensive moves. A shout broke the silence as they ended. They practiced the same moves a second time before they walked off field and towards Wheelock.

The smoke from my second cigarette billowed from my mouth. Putting it out, I went back inside. I had no classes today which meant I could do whatever. I changed into some running clothes to go for a run before getting lost in my notebooks. The notebooks I wrote in, but never reread. This morning I decided to change my path a little bit. Usually, I ran down 6th Avenue for a few blocks before turning around and zig-zagging across campus for a bit. Today I ran South 12th Street to Lina's church building. There were several cars parked in the parking lot by the institute building, but both buildings were dark and locked.

'Who did the cars belong to? What were they doing there if they were not in the buildings? I wonder if Lina knows.'

I ran once around Delong Park before I made my way to Lina's room. If the light was on then I would knock. If not then I would come back. However, when I got there, her door was open.

"Lina?" I called.

There was no answer.

Everything was dark. Her fleece blanket hung in the doorway of her bedroom. There was no sign of a forced entry. I checked the rest of the room before returning to the fleece blanket.

"Lina?" I asked, pushing it aside.

Very little light was coming in through the window and only the outlines of a few things could be seen. I tried turning on the light, but it flashed and went out. In that brief light I saw that the room was empty. I left the building. Where would she go at 4:30am? Nothing was open. Well, Safeway, but I doubt she would be shopping this early. I walked around Wyatt Hall and Schneebeck before walking down to the Wheelock Student Center. Then I heard Lina's voice.

"I don't know what to do 'Manda. …I'll be short on my tuition payment if I do that. …That might be possible, but it would mean more fasting. …Twice a week. …Like I said 'Manda. I really don't know what to do. …I'll pray about it. …Love you, too."

"Lina?"

"Good morning, Lt. Noctis."

"Are you...? Hold on, how do you know my rank? Are you in the army?"

"Doesn't matter.... Nothing matters anymore."

"Did someone break into your room this morning?"

"Why do you care? Until recently I've been invisible to everyone."

"You've never been invisible, Lina. Ignored, perhaps, but never invisible."

"What is it that you want from me?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if you are okay.... Lina?"

"What changed, Keith? Why all of a sudden are you asking how I am doing?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I finally realized how pretty you are."

"That's not funny."

"Neither were your comments from Friday."

"Was there something wrong with them?"

"The Lina I know doesn't write like that."

"The Lina you know is only a part. You've been disdaining the frosting when there was a many-layered cake beneath."

"I do believe I am curious about this cake. What do you say to breakfast?"

"Rain check."

"Why?"

"I have a lot of things to take care of today."

"What kinds of things?"

Lina stepped from the shadows and started towards Trimble Hall. I felt that if I let her leave something would happen to her. I grabbed her right arm.

"What things?" I asked again.

"Things, Keith. Will you please release my arm?"

"Lina,...."

Her left hand grabbed my wrist and twisted it enough to get me to let go.

"Ow! Lina,..."

She let go and ran to Trimble Hall. I massaged my wrist. It was obvious that she was avoiding something and definitely had no sense of humor.