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Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Climax: Love 30, Part 4

Here begins the final installment of the climax. It will come later in the book, but I had to write it now in order to build everything around it.

          Davie turns off the engine of his car and looks deep into Jasmine’s eyes.  Jasmine senses he can’t stop, that he’s drawn to her, entranced by her.  She gazes back, takes a deep breath, lifts her purse, and draws out her car key.
“Let me,” Davie says, as she’s about to open the car door.  He races around the car to open her door from the outside and extends his hand to help her out. 
Lightning strikes.  The two look at one another astonished.  No storm had been predicted.  Davie smiles, “I love storms.”
Already, Jasmine senses the extra electricity in the air.  “Me too,” she replies.  “My family says I’m the odd duck on this too.  My big sister and little brother pulled blankets over their heads during a storm.  I ran out to our front patio deck to take in that oxygenated, electric air.  When I was really brave, I ran out to the sidewalk and danced.”
Davie laughs, “Me too.  Well, not quite dancing, just standing with my arms and head raised up high so the rain beat down on my face.  Do you notice during and just after a thunderstorm, the air is alive, vibrant, pulsating, electric?” 
Jasmine bursts, “I can feel the electricity of the lightening all up and down my arms.  And if the rain pounds hard, all that water fills the air with extra oxygen.  You breathe in this crisp, oxygenated air.  I have to go out and let my body soak it all in!”
“You too?!”
“I do.  My husband says I’m crazy.  I tell him to come out and feel the electric air and breathe in the extra oxygen from the rain, and he shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders, and say he’ll just let me represent both of us out there.”
Davie laughs.  “I wish I could get Pam out there with me.  It was the same with my mom, dad, and little brother.  They tremble at a thunderstorm, and when I was racing out to enjoy it, my brother’s eyes got big.  My dad would scold, ‘You’re no Ben Franklin!  You could get electrocuted!’  I’d scream back, ‘He had a kite and a key and he still lived!’  Then for added emphasis, I’d take off my belt and watch and throw them to him, ‘Here!  Take my belt, take my watch.  I have nothing the lightening wants.  I’ll be fine!’  He knew this was not a battle worth picking.  He’d give me a knowing smile and nod, like he was warning me only because that’s what Mom wanted him to do, and then he’d let me go.  And watch me from the window, mostly for Mom’s sake.”
“It’s good your dad got it.  Nothing can keep those of us who love storms away from them.”
“Right,” Davie smiles.  “You just have to be smart.  Take off your belt, your watch.  Leave your cell phone inside.  And If it gets too fierce, take some cover.”
“As long as it’s not under a tree!”
“You know it!” Davie laughs.  “Stay away from the trees, telephone poles, and anything that draws the lightening.  Then go out and enjoy the hell out of that storm!”
Jasmine can’t believe Davie just use the word “hell.”  She likes him even more because he did.  He loves storms, he’s willing to say “hell,” he thinks at odds, he plays a kickass game of tennis, he directs a thriving youth group with his spiritual wisdom and  youthful spunk, he doesn’t like Noah, and he sides with Abraham, Moses, and Jacob for arguing and wrestling with God.  Could there be anything else in a man Jasmine would like better?
They both gaze into one another’s eyes.  This air, in the close presence of Davie and the lightening, is even more alive, more vibrant, more pulsating, more electric than any air Jasmine can ever remember in her life.
She smiles, looks into his eyes, and says, “Happy Birthday, Love 30.”
Davie cradles his arms around Jasmine’s arms, gazes back into her eyes, shakes his head while looking up, returns his gaze to her eyes, and expresses, as if in disbelief, “It’s been one of the happiest ever.” 
He picks up Jasmine’s hand and kisses the back of it, like gentlemen did in days long past.  Jasmine’s heart flutters.  She squeezes his hand and moves in closer.  The two have shaken hands many times after tennis matches, but they’ve never before touched hands like this.
Davie takes a deep breath and looks up to the sky.  He’s torn.  Jasmine can see in his eyes what he wants and she can feel in his tight grip on her hand his hesitation.
What should she do?  If he gets bold to lean into her, will she let him do it, or can she resist him?
Jasmine doesn’t think she can resist him, but maybe she’s strong enough not to encourage him.  Just don’t encourage him.  Don’t nod, don’t pull him in, don’t lean into him.  If you can just stay still, you’ll do your part. 
Davie looks down again, takes another deep breath, and looks into Jasmine’s eyes again.  Jasmine can’t help but gaze deep back into them.  She’s tightening her arms to keep herself from pulling him into her, but in no way can she resist him.  If he pulls into her, she’s done for.
Davie looks at her again and smiles.  She smiles back, letting her eyes dance.   Davie might have passed the Obedience stage Noah was in, but can he be obedient now?  Jasmine wonders about herself too.  Where is her whisper of mystery?  Usually, in precarious situations like this – and this is one of the most precarious of her life – her whispers of mystery come through reliably.  Not this time.  Whisper?  Spirit?  Where are you? 
Silence.  Jasmine wonders if the silence suggests an endorsement.  If the Holy Spirit wishes to stop her, wouldn’t she get a whisper?  A warning?
She’d better take this situation on her own inner guidance.  Just don’t encourage him.  Perhaps she can at least do that.  She can’t take her eyes off of him, she can’t remove her hand from his, but maybe she can keep her head still?  Perhaps she’s strong enough to remain still.  In no way is she strong enough to resist.  Davie please come into me.  If you come to me, I won’t resist you.
Lightning strikes again.  The two glance up to it, still thrilled and astonished.  Davie takes another breath and returns his gaze to Jasmine.  Thunder strikes.
“The storm’s really close,” Davie whispers, while leaning in closer to Jasmine.  She nods, letting her eyes speak to him: You can kiss me.  I’ll let you kiss me.
The rain suddenly bursts upon them.  If Davie is going to kiss her, he’ll have to do it right now.  You can do it, Davie.  I’ll let you kiss me.
Davie leans his lips toward Jasmine’s and pauses.  Will she come closer or pull away?  Jasmine remains still, but smiles and keeps her eyes dancing and fixed upon his.  Kiss me, Davie.
Davie leans in all the way and kisses her on the lips.  Three soft pucks on the lips.  He pauses and she remains still, smiling.  He leans in again, gives her another soft puck, then he opens his mouth wider.  His tongue has come into Jasmine’s mouth, and Jasmine feels the energy of the most electric tingles of her life.  Never before has she felt a kiss like this.
Davie pulls away and looks at Jasmine astonished.  What had they just done?
Noah, they were not. 
No, they were like Jacob: they had wrestled in their relationship for a long time.  Now, they were walking away.  Alive and limping.

© 2019 by karina.  All rights reserved.  Please use with permission or a citation that links to this blog.
Begin Love 30 Climax

1 comment:

  1. It seems to me that while Davie and Jasmine have nothing that the lightning wants, the two of them are drawn to the lightning. I love the comparison of their forbidden love to the power and fury of both God and stormy weather.