Ezra & Donnya Have Tea

Thirteen years ago….

It’s Saturday, at the end of April, so I’m picking up Jacob, so we can go to the beach. We go to the beach pretty much every Saturday. We’re broke, jobless high school seniors and the beach is free. An additional perk to the beach is that there are hot girls and women without a lot of clothes on everywhere. Usually I can pull an older woman because my height and build makes me look older than eighteen. It’s a no-brainer. Free and damn near naked women. Jacob comes out as soon as I pull up in front of his house. He almost never makes me knock, or even honk.

“Hey,” Jacob says with a sly smirk when he gets in the car.

“What?” I start to get nervous because of the look on his face.

“You remember your muñeca Barbie negra? Me and mom were just talking about how you used to carry her around everywhere. You said you were in love with her.” He chuckles at my expense. I’m not ashamed. I still have my black Barbie doll. I went with my mom to Walmart to buy a birthday present for my cousin Dana and we ended up on the pink aisle. I was taken with this beautiful little dark-skinned woman in a tweed dress and I begged my mom for it. When she said no, I cried and threw a fit until she bought it for me. She tried to reason with me, pointing out that the Barbie’s in swimsuits were cheaper, but I needed the business version with the nice dress, heels, and black handbag. At Christmas that year, I got a twelve-inch G.I. Joe with plastic dark brown hair and blue eyes. He looked like me, so they married each other. The miniature version of me and the black business woman.

“Shut up!” I pop him in the back of the head with my open hand, before driving toward our destination.

“Bet she did some freaky shit with that Joe action figure you had, huh?”

“No! I was like…seven-years-old. They kissed at the wedding. You were there. You remember.” He laughs so hard that his shoulders shake.

“Oh God, I must have chosen to forget their blessed union.” He wipes invisible tears. “And you still only like black Barbie-like girls.” He shakes his head. I like pretty black girls. What’s wrong with that? Absolutely nothing. If they have a brain in their head and a sense of humor, that’s even better. I’m not shallow. I care about other things too. Grades. Basketball. Tattooing.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a preference. We’re both mixed. It’s not like our families give a damn about race-mixing.” We’re both Mexican and white. He looks Mexican. I look white mostly. We both have the last name Hernandez. Those tiny similarities that we found cool in elementary school, built a solid foundation for a friendship that lasted over a decade. We’re even rooming together in college in a few months, and both studying business. Jacob and I really just want to tattoo and ride motor cycles, like Jacob’s brother, Eddie. He has his own shop already. We can work there without a degree, but our parents insisted that we get a degree to fall back on.

The beach is packed and a little on the hot side already, but the light breeze off the water makes it comfortable. It’s the usual. New faces and fresh air. We walk around, looking at the new faces and bodies, and a couple familiar ones. No one gets more than a head nod from us. We’re too into our own conversation about why I should have to kick in money for a small refrigerator for our dorm room when I already bought a microwave and am supplying the computer. He points out that he already has a computer, and I just offered to bring mine, since we don’t need two. Jacob carries a volleyball under his arm, and then decides to play a game of tossing it up in the air and catching it as we walk. If we get bored, at least we can look for a game later, and I have my basketball in the trunk if volleyball gets boring. I’m an adequate ball player on the basketball team. Jacob’s build is more suited for football. He’s six-feet tall even and solid from years of weightlifting, but he doesn’t play any contact sports.

A girl Jacob likes from school named Rosa, and her friend approach about ten minutes later, while we’re just sitting around watching the waves. I nod my greeting toward them. Cute girls in little blue bikinis. Shiny sandals. Oversized sunglasses. Cute, but not my type. Movement about twenty-feet away and off to the left of them catches my eye. I’m big on intuition and senses, so I wish I could say that I felt her presence there, or something mystical, but I just happen to glance over. A dark-skinned black girl, or woman perhaps, hard to tell her age, is building a sandcastle. Interesting. Teenagers and adults don’t usually play in the sand. She has on a red swimsuit that covers quite a bit of skin when paired with the matching wrap. The goal is usually to show as much skin as possible, so that alone makes her unusual. She may have the darkest skin I’ve ever seen. It reminds me of a bottle of Coca-Cola. She wipes sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

“I’ll be back,” I mumble to Jacob and the girls before making my way to the architect of the sandcastle.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to see her and make a move. That’s why I sat here. Your girl radar is broken today,” Jacob calls after me. I feel the gaze of Rosa’s disappointed friend on my back. The girl in the red bathing suit is so deep in concentration that she doesn’t notice me at all, even as I stand a few feet away from her. She even has her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth, as she evens out the front of her creation with her plastic, yellow shovel.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing in the sand?” She startles. Her shoulders hike up a little and she emits a small gasp.

“What? Excuse me?” She asks. She shields her eyes with her long fingers. To meet my eyes, she has to look up and into the sun. I crouch down beside her to protect her delicate pupils. She’s beautiful. Intimidating even. I’m a pretty confident guy, but if I would have known she was this pretty, I would have stayed away, or at least I would have had a better line. Her big eyes grow even wider, and give away her confusion while I sit speechless. She waits for an explanation of why I, a mere mortal, am speaking to her.

“Hi, I’m Ezra James.” I extend my hand and give her a wide smile. She gives me an arched brow and a head tilt before reluctantly extending her own hand. She knows immediately that she’s way out of my league. I hold her soft, sand-covered hand for a couple beats past what’s customary.

“Donnya. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. James.” I laugh. Where the hell is she from? Another country? Why so formal? Is she an actual princess? This puts the strange thought in my head, that maybe she’s a Barbie that came to life, and it’s my responsibility to teach her about the world. Probably because Jacob just brought up my little plastic girlfriend from years ago. I can teach Donnya how to speak like a regular human. How to use a television and computer. How to eat with a fork. How to kiss… I lick my lips. I can rescue her from her life as a living doll, just like the Disney movie I saw once. Or maybe she’s a mermaid who washed up on the shore, and her long wrap will turn into a scaly crimson tail as soon as she hits the water. She smiles after a few moments of me just gazing at her, but her eyes reveal that she’s still puzzled by our exchange.

“James is my middle name. No one even really calls me Ezra James anymore, except for my mom, when she’s mad at me. You just have me nervous,” I admit. She smiles slightly wider and looks at a patch of sand near my feet. “So Donnya, back to my original question. Aren’t you too old to play in the sand?” She exhales deeply, and her large expressive eyes find mine again.

“I’m not around people much, other than at church. I’m not really sure the appropriate age to not play in the sand. I’ve just built sandcastles since I was younger and never stopped. I like the sand. I’ll miss it when we move.” My smile falters. So that’s her move. She politely gets rid of guys by saying she’s moving. I could save face and tell her it was nice meeting her, and just go away. She’s not a beautiful, but naïve Barbie. She can handle the male species just fine.

“You’re not moving. You think I’m pestering you and you want me to go away. You can just be honest with me. I don’t want to annoy you.” I grind my teeth back and forth a few times. I hate when I have emotional responses, when I know I should be logical and return to hang with Jacob. I don’t know her, but it hurts to think that way about her. I want to know her.

“I am moving. In two days. To Kansas. Forever, probably,” she insists. She frowns and draws her brows together. “I can’t really talk to guys anyway. It may be better if we don’t talk anymore.” Her eyes start to scan our surroundings. Of course she has some guy already. She looks like a supermodel. The word can’t makes me think maybe he’s a controlling asshole.

“You have a boyfriend. Is he moving with you? Did you get into the same university?” It’s none of my business either way.

“No, not that. I just don’t talk to guys. I was homeschooled. I know a couple of boys from the neighborhood and church, but my dad’s a preacher, and he prefers that I only have female friends, but I don’t really have any of those either. Not even from church. The few people I interact with, other than my parents, are adults mostly, and they think I’m weird, and tightly wound to be so young. That’s why I’m here alone at the beach, with no one to talk to for a while.”

“More than likely, they think you’re gorgeous. They don’t know what else to make of you because you’re also so formal. I knew you were beautiful from a distance, but if I had known how striking you are up close, I probably wouldn’t have come over, plus I can tell you’re really poised. Lady-like my mom would say.” She lowers her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers. So shy and awkward. Must be lonely to live in a religious bubble with no friends. Maybe I can help her to relax a little. Jacob throws his volleyball and it hits me square in the back of the head.

“Asshole!” I yell at him and the two girls. They laugh. Donnya cringes. Maybe she doesn’t hear profanity often, that or she’s concerned about my head. I rub the back of it. For that, Jacob will not be getting an introduction to my up-tight girlfriend.

“Sorry about the language. Hey, maybe I can take you out since you only have a couple of days left. Dinner and a movie. What do you say? I can pick you up on a motorcycle if you want me to.” If my dad will let me borrow it again, after I failed to gas-up his prized Harley the last time I borrowed it. “Maybe somehow I can even get you to stay and go to prom with me next month.” She grins widely. The sun, no match for her straight, white teeth.

“Well, Ezra James, you sure do plan ahead to spend time with a girl you don’t know.” I’m thinking so much further than prom. “My family is strict, so I’m not allowed to date at all, like I said. My parents are meeting me at a café that’s about a five minute walk from here, in an hour or so. If you want to hang out with me, I have one hour. That’s it. Probably forever.” Is it weird that I momentarily wonder if it’s too late to apply to universities in Kansas? It feels right. I bet I could talk Jacob into coming too.

“I’ll take it. One hour. And I love when you call me by my middle name. What’s your middle name?”

“Oh, I don’t tell people my middle name, Ezra. It’s top secret.”