by Catie Rhodes
His deep purr was hard with panic. “Careful.”
I opened my eyes. Nobody was there but Tanner, eyes bright and concerned. Hannah hovered nearby, pulling on her fingers, one after the other. I gathered myself and gently pushed Tanner away.
“It’s okay. Almost done.” I reached for the mantle, letting its power flow through me. The box trembled in my hands, trying to get to the mantle, but now I knew what was going on. I held the mantle just out of reach and shaped it into my will. In a loud, clear voice I said,
“I call on the elements
Earth, air, fire, and water.”
Here I paused and let the energy from each element manifest. The earth beneath my feet charged, sending its renewal through my boots and up my legs. The wind picked up, ripping through my hair, caressing my face, carrying energy on its infinite wings. More renewing energy came from beneath my feet, from an aquifer, deep below the earth’s surface. And the fire came from within me. A bolt of heat lightning flashed in the distance.
“Bind this box
Bind the runes within
Block its evil from without
Make it invisible to curious eyes
Make it repel and revolt
By the power within
By the power without
Blessed be.”
I got a good, tight grip on the box and reared back my arm like a softball pitcher. My arm flew forward. At the apex of my pitch, I tried to let go of the box. My fingers were stuck.
My heart jumped in fear. The momentum from my throw carried me forward. Tanner pulled me back from the edge again. This time, Hannah grabbed him, bending her knees to get leverage. Griff and Mysti crowded in, Mysti with her wand grasped in one hand and Griff holding her back from the edge.
“I command you to release.” She hit my hand with her wand. “Release.”
I concentrated on my fingers, begging them to let go of the box. The black opal pinged on my chest, and Orev appeared. Wings flapping, he hovered in front of me and latched his beak on to the box. The mantle swirled between us. I used it to push the box away from me.
My fingers let go. The box fell, disappearing into the darkness faster than I’d thought it would. For a long time, no sound of impact followed. I imagined the box suspended in midair, maybe about to expel itself. Then the faint splash of water came.
I relaxed and backed away from the sinkhole. My legs trembled, and my head spun from relief. I sat down hard on the rocky soil. It hurt my behind, but I didn’t care. It was over for now.
I’d still have to find where Oscar’s soul was hidden and banish him, but he could no longer draw power from me. I hoped I hadn’t shot myself in the foot by getting rid of the runes, but they were too dangerous to keep.
Priscilla Herrera’s form appeared across the sinkhole from us. She acknowledged me with the barest of nods and faded from sight. So she was back too.
My friends and I climbed into Griff’s SUV, all of us exhausted.
“I guess we have a wedding to go to.” Mysti tried for a brave smile and almost made it.
Griff drove us back to the RV park, smiling ear to ear.
20
Brad and Jadine’s wedding was a hurried, thrown together affair.
The owner of the RV park lent us use of the park’s community hall. We grouped as many metal folding chairs as the small room would hold in front of the slightly raised stage.
A nearby craftsman brought over an arbor for Brad and Jadine to stand beneath. Finn, who’d gotten his minister’s license online sometime back, helped the guy carry it in. Hannah sat off to the side picking out a pretty tune on the new guitar she’d bought recently.
Then it was magic time.
Brad, wearing one of his expensive suits, probably purchased by Mysti, walked to the front of the room and shifted foot to foot, his face tense. Finn, wearing nothing fancier than a pair of cargo pants and a thin button-down short sleeve shirt, stood next to Brad, dark eyes glowing with mischief. The sight would have made me laugh had it not been for the stricken look on Mysti’s face. She leaned against the wall near the stage, chin trembling. She needed me. I left my post at the back door and walked to the front.
I passed Leon Blackfox and a group of performers from Summervale Carnival sitting along the back row. Leon watched Hannah, his dark eyes mournful and longing. I gave him a nod and kept walking past a mish-mash of campers from the RV park and members of Sanctuary sitting closer to the front. I reached Mysti and held out my hand to her.
“Come on. We’ll sit on the front row.” I led her to a pair of chairs occupied by a thirty-something couple who’d been staying in the RV park. “This is the sister of the groom, and I’m the cousin of the bride. Do you mind if family sits in the front row?”
The female hipster huffed but dragged her male companion out of his seat and moved to another row. Mysti and I sat down. Shelly, face tight but dressed in a gorgeous light blue suit, sat down on the other side of Mysti. The two of them exchanged understanding nods.
Tanner hurried down the aisle and sat on the other side of me. His white shirt and light tan pants set off his dark skin and green eyes. He gave me a smile and a wink, leaned over, and kissed my cheek. We joined hands.
Finn straightened and said, “Would everybody stand for the bride?”
The room rumbled as everybody stood. Hannah began picking Canon in D on her guitar, the notes ringing beautiful in the small room.
The back door opened, and the room rustled again as everybody craned to see Jadine. I stood on my tiptoes.
Jadine, arm through Cecil’s, walked down the aisle in a white dress she absolutely had not just had hanging in her closet. She and Brad must have planned this coup for weeks, maybe thinking surprising everybody was the only way for it to happen. Or maybe they just wanted to live for today and get on with the good stuff as fast as they could.
Cecil walked with his shoulders stiff, staring straight ahead, all signs of the old community leader gone. He was simply a man facing the heartbreak of giving his only daughter away to her husband as best as he could.
Finn took out a white sheet of paper and studied it. By the time Cecil and Jadine got in front of the podium, he set the paper aside. In a better speaking voice than I’d have given him credit for possessing, he said, “Who gives this woman in marriage?”
Cecil stood a little taller. “Her mother and I.” His voice trembled only a little. Cecil passed Jadine’s hand to Brad and came to sit with the rest of us in the first row.
Finn cleared his throat. “When you know you’ve met the right person, you don’t want to waste another minute of your life without them. You want to face whatever life has to offer together, starting right then.”
Tanner squeezed my hand. My throat tightened. Maybe. Just maybe.
Finn continued. “So when Brad and Jadine said they wanted to get married today, not tomorrow or next week, I said, ‘Let’s make it happen.’”
Several people giggled, including me.
Finn smiled and stood a little straighter. “Let’s all join this couple in celebrating as they embark on the greatest journey there is: that of partnership, family, and togetherness. Bradley Jamison Whitebyrd, do you take Jadine Gregg to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Brad, who looked like he might faint, said, “I do.”
The remainder of the ceremony went off flawlessly, and when Finn told Brad he could now kiss his bride, the room broke into applause. People formed a line in the front of the room to congratulate the bride and groom.
The rest of us cleared the chairs, let in the caterers, and got ready to party. Cecil and Shelly had arranged for the taqueria where Hannah and I had eaten to cater the after-wedding supper. The taqueria brought in a group of traditionally dressed guitarists who began playing Mariachi music. When Brad and Jadine joined the party, the band cut off a lively song and announced the bride and groom would dance their first dance.
The guitar players launched into a fiery song full of fingerpicking a
nd haunting highs and lows. Jadine and Brad danced their first dance. Cecil and Shelly joined in about halfway through.
I watched, fascinated at the juxtaposition of the older couple and the younger couple, both following each other’s cues, smiling at each other. A lump rose in my throat. This was the wheel of life. Old, young, up, down. To be lived for whatever moment you found yourself living in.
Tanner came to stand next to me. He held out one hand and raised his eyebrows. Would I dance with him?
The wheel of life spun on, ready or not. Go forward or get left behind. I sure didn’t want that.
I took Tanner’s hand and kissed him. Then we got on the dance floor and had a good time.
Shelly and Dillon drank a few too many margaritas, got the band to play “Sweet Caroline,” and drunk-shouted the words. It was a scene too awful to ever forget.
Leon Blackfox spent the time sitting next to Hannah and talking, his expression grave. She listened with her brow furrowed and her hands clasped between her knees. At least she didn’t tell one of the men of Sanctuary to throw Leon out.
I gorged on tacos, chips, and rich tres leches cake and danced until my stomach hurt. Tanner stuck to my side. We exchanged steamy glances, each touch supercharged and more intense than the last. Finally, we slipped away from the party. I took one last look over my shoulder to see Leon Blackfox hold his hand out to Hannah. She stood, and the two of them glided onto the dance floor. I closed the door with a feeling of relief and practically ran with Tanner through the park to my little home on wheels.
Once inside with the door locked, we peeled off each other's clothes. Lips and tongues tasted each other’s bodies. Lights dim, we caressed and explored until our bodies quivered, covered with sweat, and finally made love. After, we lay on the bed facing each other, arms and legs entwined, not talking, just enjoying each other's presence.
I jerked awake sometime in the night, not sure what had disturbed my sleep. Tanner’s leg rested over the top of mine. He slept still and sound. Deciding I needed the bathroom, I disentangled myself and crept across the silent camper to the tiny restroom.
A dog barked somewhere near, the sound not quite muffled in these tin can houses. The dog had probably woken me. I peeped out the tiny window next to the toilet and saw the red cherry of a lit cigarette. Looked like the dog had a good reason to bark.
I snuck back toward the bed, naked, and picked around as silently as I could for my clothes. I settled for the long skirt and black tank top I’d worn to the wedding with no underwear. The person sitting outside my camper wouldn’t care if didn’t have on underwear. He might get a thrill out of it.
Tanner moaned and rolled over. I froze. Too much more fiddling around in here, and I’d wake him up. Then I’d have to explain. I didn’t want that.
I palmed my cigarettes off the counter by the sink and stepped out as silently as I could, sliding my feet into the flip-flops I kept near my steps. I lipped a cigarette out of the pack, lit it, and walked toward the picnic table.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
Wade Hill turned around, drew on his cigarette, and crushed it out in the ashtray. “Less than you. Sure didn’t take you long to move on after Desiree talked to you the other night.”
So he had known I was at the carnival that night. I smoked in silence. Wade had walked away from me. His sister had told me to stay away, that I’d get him killed if I didn’t. There was no way I’d let him shame me for moving on. “Did you sit out here and watch Tanner and me?”
“No.” He said it the way a sullen teenager does, with two syllables. No-wuh. His teeth flashed in the darkness in more of a sneer than a smile. “But it was impossible not to hear the two of you.”
“And you listened.” This seemed like something I should be embarrassed about, but I couldn’t quite work up the energy to give a shit. The way things ended between Wade and me didn’t leave me a lot of tolerance for scene like this.
“Some.” He shrugged his huge shoulders. “I’d come here to talk, to tell you something. Then I saw you and Mr. Grunge-Rock Nineteen-Ninety-Nine hanging all over each other at the wedding.”
“Grunge-Rock?” I said the words without inflection, really focused on the other part of what Wade said. He’d come here to talk to me, to tell me something. It must have been important.
“You know…your new guy’s got that long, straight hair. The stubble. The tan. The tight jeans. The wanna-be badass jewelry.” Wade rolled his eyes and snorted.
I let the dig at Tanner pass. I’d never win. “What did you come here to talk to me about?” Right away, I wished I could take back the question. Whatever Wade had to say would only shit on my newfound happiness.
Maybe what I had with Tanner was not forever, but it was something enjoyable for both of us. A nice friendship and more. I was ready to make peace with the present, to learn how to dance with change. If Wade said he’d changed his mind, was willing to risk the consequences of being with me, what would I do?
“It doesn’t matter now.” He lowered his chin and looked at me from underneath his brows, pouting.
That pout threw cold water on any misgivings I had. I would not play this game with Wade. I had a soft bed and a willing man in my camper. Tanner might be complicated, but at least he was willing to take a chance on leaving his grief behind to seek out happiness.
What was I doing? I couldn’t compare Wade and Tanner tit for tat. Wade had special circumstances. He carried a curse when it came to me. If he hung around too long, it would kill him.
I thought about the wheel of life inside my camper. Could Wade’s fate with regard to me be changed? Maybe. Maybe not. The price of it not working would be death for Wade.
He couldn’t risk that for me. If Wade died because of me, I’d have to kill myself. Because I wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt. So it was over and done with. Forever.
Giving up on Wade broke my heart into a million jagged, howling pieces. But the last few days had taught me one important thing. Life went on.
I had to live it the best I could and find my own happiness because there would not be a do-over. I wouldn’t get a special medal at the end for spending my life pining over the big love that never happened.
Wade sat across from me, watching me think. This was the first time I’d noticed how intently he watched and wondered how much he intuited just from body language. Against my better judgment, I reached across the table and took his hand. “How are you?”
He nodded. “Good. Got a decent job doing factory work. Pay tops out at more than I’ve ever made in my life. Got a couple of women who don’t mind my company.”
His dark eyes searched me for a reaction. There was no way I’d give him one. It wouldn’t help the situation.
I let go of his hand. “You take care of yourself, you hear me?”
“That my invitation to leave?” He stood, stepped out from behind the picnic table, and held out his arms. I went to him and let him hug me, inhaling the scent of sunshine, of open road, and of gasoline. I closed my eyes, drinking it in like it was the last time. It probably was.
Wade let go of me and dug out a slip of paper about the size of a business card. “Desiree asked me to give you this. It’s her address and phone numbers. She said if you ever need help, her door is open.”
Wade didn’t wait for me to react, to say yes or no. He took off walking into the darkness. I watched him until he faded from sight and listened for his motorcycle.
But then I remembered he’d blown it up the last day he spent in the Six Gun Revolutionaries motorcycle club. Somewhere in the distance, a loud motor started. Not a motorcycle. Maybe a truck or an old car with a nasty muffler.
I slipped back inside my camper, set my cigarettes back on the counter where I’d found them, and began undressing.
Tanner’s voice came out of the darkness. “That him?”
“Who him?” I stripped down and crawled into bed with him.
“The guy who broke your heart, the o
ne you didn’t want to let go of.” He moved his hands over my body, light and teasing.
I pretended to ignore or forget the question and tried to pull him on top of me.
He shook me off. “Tell me. Was that him?”
“It was him.” I took my hands off Tanner and scooted away.
“I saw him earlier tonight at the wedding. Finn told me who he was.” Tanner didn’t sound jealous, but he didn’t sound happy either. The dim light hid whatever emotions I might have seen on his face. Defensiveness pricked at me.
“Okay. I was outside talking to a guy I used to have a thing for. What do you want to know about it?” I tensed, ready to get up, get dressed again, and tell Tanner to get the hell out of my home.
“I know everything I need to know. You came back in here with me.” Tanner scooted closer and caressed my face with the tips of his fingers. My eyes had adjusted a little more to the dimness, and I could see amusement sparkling in Tanner’s eyes. It almost buried the spark of fierce possessiveness. But not quite.
“Then why question me about it?” I held my body stiff, still not sure if he wanted to fight. A lot of men would have.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay. It hurts to lose somebody when you think it’s forever.” He let out a sigh.
I scooted closer and wrapped one leg over his hip. “I'm okay. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.” That was a lie, but what was that silly saying of Hannah’s? Fake it till you make it. That’s what I was going to do. I kissed Tanner’s lips and spoke against them. “The important thing is that he’s gone, and you’re here, and we’re both awake.”
I trailed my fingers down Tanner’s chest and touched him in a place that made his legs stiffen and his breath catch. He made a low sound in his throat, a growl. I kept my hand moving and pushed him onto his back.
Neither of us spoke the rest of the night. Instead, we made up for lonely nights and lost time.
Sometime in the complete darkness before daylight, I lay staring at the ceiling, listening to Tanner sleep. Though I’d put away the wheel of life, its magic thrummed hard, all those lifelines racing forward like a freeway at rush hour. Time passing. Life changing. Every day, every second. And we were no more than travelers tossed between paths dark and light.
