by R A Watt
* * *
No surprise, I couldn’t fall asleep that night. I tried to read, but my mind wasn’t really taking in any of the information. I kept rereading whole pages at a time, not retaining anything that was happening in the story.
Honey whined once in a while, maybe sensing my uneasiness. She jumped off my bed periodically and left the room, patrolling the house. She’d return and jump back up on the bed, leaning her head on my leg.
I reached over and scratched her behind the ears. “You okay, girl?”
She closed her eyes, enjoying the attention, and stretched her legs out further. I kept scratching her, worried about tomorrow, full of dread. But then I’d picture Rachel, lying in the hospital, and my anger and willingness to proceed would boil up again. Then I thought of Suzanne, wanting her to be there, to guide us. To support me. But also not wanting her to be anywhere she could be hurt.
Then there was Sybil. Frigid, ball-busting Sybil. She could take care of herself better than anyone, and she was easily the most confident of all of us. But I worried she had no real idea of what she was up against. This wasn’t just some mouthy class clown that needed a verbal whipping.
This was real.
“You need what?” my dad hollered from his room the next morning as I cleaned up from breakfast.
Nervously, I shouted out, “Shoes.”
“I bought you shoes a few days ago!” he said, coming back into the kitchen after breakfast on Saturday. “I mean, I know you are in a growth spurt, but this is ridiculous. You’re going to eat me out of house and home if I don’t publish a book!” he said, half serious but half laughing.
My dad looked me up and down. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown in the last few weeks. I had growth spurts, too, but none this quick. Maybe this clean country air is really agreeing with you.”
I nodded. “I think so, too, Dad. My body is used to smog, and it’s thriving here.” This was obviously not true, but I knew he was sensitive about how we were dealing with the move. I really needed new shoes again and would feed him whatever compliments were necessary.
“Maybe we can stop by the mobile store and get me a new phone, too. I’d love to post some pictures of the beauty of Santa Isadora,” I said, trying to slip it in while the iron was hot.
He spun around. “Don’t push your luck. I haven’t had the luxury of new shoes in almost two years. If you didn’t waste so much money with your online gambling you’d have enough for a new phone.”
“It’s not gambling, it’s investing.”
“Buying online computer cats is not investing. I may not be an expert, but I know that much.”
I groaned. “Dad, I’ve never put a dime into those stupid things. Give me some credit, crypto currencies are gonna be big. Some are garbage, for sure, but the future isn’t paper currency.”
He rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should spend your time finding me the next great tech stock.”
I am.
Chapter 35
New shoes and a few hours with my dad was a good way to pass the time on an otherwise long day of dread.
He retired to his office after we got home, and I was eating a late lunch when the doorbell rang. Cautiously, I pushed the curtain aside and peeked out the window, not expecting anyone.
It was Sybil.
I opened the door. “Hey.”
She had sunglasses and an old white Raiders cap on, pulled down low. There was a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. “A bit early aren’t you? You look like you’re ready to rob a bank,” I said.
She kept her head down. “Is Suzanne home? I called her.”
My sister made her way to the front door. “Hi Sybil, come on in.”
Moving aside, I let her in, though I didn’t quite understand why she was so early. They made their way down the hall to Suzanne’s room and quietly shut the door.
“Yeah, nice to see you, too,” I said to no one in particular.
I walked down the hall and knocked. “What’s going on?” I asked through the door.
Suzanne opened it. “Can you just give us some privacy for a few minutes?”
“But . . .”
“Everything isn’t always about you, okay?”
I nodded. “I guess.”
Why would she come early and keep it a secret? Were they planning something about me? Was there a part of tonight’s plan that I wasn’t included in? My mind was racing to all the possibilities.
After half an hour I knocked again, convinced they were going to shoot me, too.
“Can I come in now? Please?”
The door opened, and Suzanne let me in. Sybil was sitting on the bed, her hat off now but facing the other way, looking at a magazine. As I pulled out the chair to the makeup table, my elbow knocked over a hairspray can that tipped some other bottles onto the floor.
“Teavan!”
I grimaced, trying to pick them up and arrange them again. “Sorry,” I said, thinking that I’d been knocking a lot of things over in the last few weeks. Growing four inches and gaining twenty pounds in a short time takes its toll on your dexterity.
“What’s the deal?” I asked. “You guys planning something I don’t know about?”
Suzanne shook her head, snorting a little. “No, nothing about tonight.”
Oh.
“Is this some kind of womanly issue?” I asked, not really wanting to know but still a little paranoid.
When Suzanne understood what I meant, she laughed this time and shook her head. “No, not that.” She went over and sat beside Sybil. “He’s going to find out either way,” she said to Sybil, touching her shoulder.
Slowly and reluctantly, Sybil turned around.
The blood drained from my face.
Her eye was black and a little swollen. There was a cut on her lip.
The heat started to rise inside. “What happened? Did Bruno come to your house? I’m gonna kill him.”
Sybil shook her head, looking down silently. “No.”
“Jed? Mike!?”
She shook it again.
I was confused. Surely she hadn’t just gotten into a fight this morning. “Who would hit you?” Who could hit her and walk away besides Bruno?
Her hand raised up to her face, and she carefully wiped a tear away from each eye with her index finger. “It’s nothing, Teavan. I tripped.”
What a joke. She tripped?
“Come on, what is this, 1950? What really happened?” I asked, surprised she’d think I’d believe such a stupid lie. That was what women used to say when their husbands abused them, and she wasn’t even married!
More tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at me.
Then it hit me, and I felt sick to my stomach. “Your . . . dad?”
“I don’t want to talk to you about it,” she said.
Surprised, I asked, “Why not? You’ll talk to my sister about it but not me? I’m not some stupid jock at school, Sybil. I’m your friend, I’m not like that.”
“I know you’re not like that,” she said quietly.
Sybil broke eye contact and looked down at the bed. “When I told him I was doing another sleepover tonight, he went off on me. About not visiting Rachel enough or supporting the family enough, and thinking I was up to no good on sleepovers. It just kinda got out of hand is all. It’s fine, really.”
The heat returned to my face. “No, it’s not fine,” I hissed, wanting to pay a visit to Mr. Hughes, or at least call Social Services, or whoever dealt with abuse.
The vision of her father yelling at her for something she didn’t do and knocking her around enraged me. Here she was, about to risk her life to avenge Rachel and keep others safe in town, and her dad thought the worst of her. Deep in the pit of my stomach, I could feel the black mass trying to grow, and immediately I breathed deeply to calm myself. It went away.
Feeling a little dizzy, I sat down on the carpet. “Has this happened before?”
She shook her head. “No. Like I said, it’s fine, really. We
have a big night ahead of us, and we need to keep clear heads. Okay?”
I wrinkled my nose and shrugged. What could I do? When I glanced at Suzanne, she had the same look.
“But you need to tell someone, Sybil; this is wrong. We should call the police,” I said.
“Yeah, I know, I know, Suzanne already gave me the third degree. Trust me, I get it. First off—it's fine, he doesn’t do this often. And second off, my dad is all I have. I can’t jeopardize that. School will be over in a few years, and I’ll be outta here. Trust me, I can handle it.”
Three years?
“Why not move into Rachel’s house? Would they take you?” Suzanne asked.
She shook her head. “It’s not that simple. But listen, I didn’t come here for a pity party or a counseling session. I just needed to leave the house and couldn’t get stuck at my aunt’s. Can we please just drop it?”
Suzanne and I were both quiet, looking at each other uneasily. There were much bigger issues to be dealt with today, and so we both nodded. I made a mental note to follow up after this was all over. If we were still alive.
Suzanne held her phone up. “Kevin texted: We’re all set. We arranged for Bruno to go to Ava Murphy’s place at nine tonight to watch a movie. We’ll intercept him on his way.”
I looked at Sybil. “Huh? That was your plan? How in the world did you convince her to invite him over?” I asked.
Sybil smirked a little. “By promising her two things. One, that he would get a better offer and never actually show up.”
“And two?” I asked, seeing a mischievous look on her face.
“Two, you are taking Ava to a movie next Friday,” she said with a strange look.
Ava Murphy!?
“Come on, are you serious?” I asked, not believing her.
Sybil shrugged. “Well, I mean, she is pretty cute. The boys all love her, even Bruno. And, for whatever bizarre reason, she chatted with me and seems to have a thing for you. So the stars just kinda aligned.”
My face turned beet red. They both noticed and laughed. At least the mood was a little lighter in the room, even if it was at my expense.
“Come on, Teavan, she’s a babe. And, unlike my cousin, she’s not a choir girl; she’s perfect for you,” she teased.
Now my face was really turning red. I shook my head. “No thanks. Plus, doesn’t Kevin have a thing for her?” I breathed out. “But I guess if that’s what it takes.”
She lifted an eyebrow over her good eye. “Really?”
Momentarily confused, I stammered. “The movie—I mean. If that’s what it takes to make this work, I’ll take her to a movie.”
A flash of relief almost passed over her features, like she was testing my feelings for Rachel. “And popcorn. You have to share a popcorn with her.”
“What? That was a condition of hers?” I asked.
“No,” she said with a laugh. “But it would've been funny if I could keep a straight face.”
Suzanne’s phone beeped, and she looked down; then her eyes widened, and she smiled. “It’s your aunt. Did you give her my number? She says Rachel’s awake!”
Sybil’s mouth dropped open. “What!? Yes, sorry, I gave her your number since my phone is gone. I . . . I need to go see her.”
A lump caught in my throat and a huge sense of relief as I exhaled. “Can I come?”
That same awkward look showed on her face. “I’m not sure. You know how my aunt is.”
Suzanne stood up. “Listen, why don’t I drive; it’ll save time. Teavan and I can wait outside while you visit. It’ll give us something to do, it’s only one thirty.”
Sybil sprang up, a genuine smile on her face, until she looked in the mirror. “Ugh. What do I do about . . . that?” she said, pointing to her eye. “All I know how to use is Chapstick.”
This time Suzanne smiled and spun her makeup chair around. “Leave it to me, we’ll have you looking better in no time.”
Chapter 36
The girls spent half an hour in the makeup chair, and I let Honey out for a run. I waited on the front step, wearing a pair of shoes that fit again.
They finally came out, and I was stunned at the change in Sybil. Her eye problem was still visible, but much less so, and the lipstick mostly covered up the cut on her lip. She actually looked kinda cute, but I dared not say that for fear of a fist in my mouth.
“What?” she asked, looking at me.
“Oh,” I said, fidgeting. “Nothing, just not used to seeing you with makeup or your hair done. Your eye looks much better now.”
She sneered and pulled her cap back on.
Suzanne tried to protest. “No, leave it! Your hair looks beautiful!”
“I just want my hat on, I’m sorry. Plus, I’m gonna look weird enough with makeup. If my hair is all fancy they will really be asking questions,” Sybil answered.
The scent of mango mixed with my sister’s familiar perfume wafted off her as she walked by. “You smell nice, too.” I smiled.
Sybil spun around, clenching her fist to strike. “Shut it, Dingo.”
After parking and walking to the medical center’s front steps, Sybil turned and asked us to give her a few minutes inside. Suzanne and I sat down.
There was strong smell of fire in the air as we waited. “Can you smell the smoke?”
Suzanne looked around, but there was nobody nearby. “No? I don’t see anyone.”
I shook my head. “No, not that kind. Forest-fire smoke. I can smell it; it’s getting stronger. I think the fires are far off, but it’s in the air.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, so now you have super smelling senses?”
I shrugged. “Kinda? Not as good as when I’m . . . you know, changed. Then, it’s like, crazy strong. It’s weird.”
We both sat quietly for another minute.
“Suze, you know, you don’t have to come tonight. I’d almost be happier if you just stayed home and watched out for dad,” I said, looking over at her.
“What?” she snapped, glaring at me. “Of course I’m coming? Why wouldn’t I? This involves me, too, you know.”
“Well, yes and no. I’m just kinda worried about you is all.”
“Listen, I may not be a wolf boy, but I’m still older, smarter, and wiser than you. And just because I’m not a sports star doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself. Teavan, this is big. Really big. You can’t know how upset I’d be if something happened to you.”
“I guess,” I said, feeling warmed by her open kindness. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be just as happy if you watch out for dad. Just know that, okay?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
A few minutes later Sybil came out, beaming. “Come in! She’s awake!”
We jumped up and followed her inside to Rachel’s room. Her parents filed out of the room as we waited. Mrs. Denning’s eyes were all red, but she looked happy.
“Steven, I owe you an apology,” she said, shifting uneasily as Mr. Denning sat down on the bench in the hall. “Rachel told me that you saw her home safely, like a gentlemen. Again, my apologies. It’s just been a difficult time . . .”
“No problem, Mrs. Denning. I don’t blame you,” I said, unsure of what to say.
Luckily, Sybil grabbed my shirt and pulled me from the awkwardness into the room. Rachel gave us a half smile as we entered. She had white bandages on her face and arms, but she was sitting up.
“Hey, Rachel,” I said, surprised at how pale and weak she looked.
“Hi yourself,” she whispered in a raspy voice. “Thanks . . . for coming.”
“Well, I would have come earlier but I wasn’t really allowed near you,” I said and then laughed.
“Sorry about that. You know—protective moms and all,” she said, and then coughed.
“So, can you tell us what happened?” I asked. Suzanne stood quietly behind me, and Sybil was on the other side of the bed.
“Well, there’s no big mystery, though it seems like everyone was expecting one. Even the
police have been in already to talk,” she wheezed. “After you dropped me off, I changed into my pajamas and went to the family room to watch TV. The doorbell rang, and when I opened the door there was nobody there. Our garbage can was knocked over in the grass, and the lid was a few feet away. I walked down the steps to fix it when I heard a growling from behind me. A dog—a big dog—jumped at me. A German shepherd or a husky or something,” she broke into a fit of weak coughs. “It all happened so fast . . . it was so scary. I just tried to protect my face and curled up in a ball, praying for it to leave. Next thing I knew, I woke up here,” she explained.
Sybil was holding her hand, careful not to knock the drip lines going into it.
Rachel’s face contorted as she looked at me, trying to see my feet. “Is this bed super low, or are you wearing platform shoes? And your cheeks. You eating cupcakes for breakfast?”
My face went red as I shrugged. “Growth spurt.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’ll say. You look . . . big, much bigger. Even your chest and arms. I’ve never seen anyone grow so fast.”
Suzanne leaned forward. “Talk to my dad; it’s a common thing in our family for the boys. He’s already had to buy Teavan two pairs of shoes!” Her attempt at changing the focus was welcome.
“No kidding,” Rachel said, looking at me almost suspiciously, but visibly in discomfort.
“So, when do you get outta here?” I asked, shifting the subject.
Rachel shrugged. “I think tomorrow or Monday. They said as long as I’m stable, I’m okay to go home.”
A knock on the door sounded from behind us; it was the nurse. “Time to let her rest, she’s been with people for the last few hours and she needs a break.”
We nodded.
Sybil leaned over and gave Rachel a big hug, and both their eyes were a little moist after. Then Suzanne did the same. Rachel looked at me next and held her arms out, mindful of her IV. As I leaned in, her smells—both her alluring scents and opposing sickly ones—overwhelmed me, and she pulled me in tight. My face was buried in her dark hair that was sprawled on the pillow. She drew me in tighter when I gently tried to pull back, so I held still.
