Wicked Luck

by Shannon L. Maynard

29. LATE DAY: A SHOT IN THE DARK

  Dax

  Ava’s fingers release the arrow. The bird makes a high-pitched squawk, but it doesn’t fly away as the arrow whizzes past its head and into the thick forest.

  She hands me the bow in frustration, and I’m trying not to boast an amused smile. She seems relieved that it’s over but a little irritated, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because her attraction to me is so obvious. I wink before raising the bow in one fluid motion and make quick work of shooting the bird.

  “Nice shot,” she mumbles.

  “Thanks,” I reply. “As long as we don’t show it to Roxy, we’ll have something to eat for dinner tonight.”

  I replace the bow on my shoulder. Holding the bird in one hand and her hand in the other, we head back towards the Anwai village. When we get back to the tree house, Roxy isn’t around again. Ava fails at hiding her disappointment. She watches me remove the feathers in preparation to cook the large bird.

  “Where do you think Roxy is?” she finally asks, probably wondering if this is her usual routine.

  “I’m not sure. I told you she usually avoids me, but now that I’m cooking food, she’ll show up.” I wink at her and then place the bird on the spit over the fire.

  After discovering there’s no fruit left in the kitchen hut, we set off to gather some bananas and papaya fruit, and then some berries like the ones I gave her the first day she woke up in the cave. Just as I predicted, Roxy is sitting by the fire when we return, staring into the flames. Ava sits down beside her.

  “So if you’re not busy tomorrow, you should come hang out with Dax and me,” Ava offers.

  I throw her a discouraging glance in hopes of reminding her that two’s company and three’s a crowd.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got plans,” Roxy says flatly, without taking her eyes off the flames. I dramatically brush my forehead in relief while standing behind Roxy, and Ava scolds me with a slight shake of her head.

  “So, what kind of things did you like to do back home?” Ava asks Roxy, trying to pull some info out of her, but her vibe is making that extremely difficult. “Did you play any sports?”

  “Not really.”

  “What sports did you play, Ava?” I ask loudly, hinting at Roxy and attempting to help Ava out.

  “I played soccer and volleyball mostly, but I liked basketball too,” she says, but there’s still no acknowledgement from Roxy.

  “Sweet! Me too,” I say with a huge grin. “Well, not basketball, but I played soccer and beach volleyball. If I can figure out how to make us a soccer ball, we can have ourselves a little one on one.”

  Ava stares at Roxy, who remains inattentive and deep in thought. Her lack of attention only eggs me on.

  “Roxy’s hobbies were kissing boys and going to the mall with her friends.” I let out a short laugh, but they don’t join me. The atmosphere is suddenly awkward.

  “So what was our mother like?” Ava asks, trying to change the subject.

  Roxy pauses before answering.

  “Well, obviously she was good at keeping secrets, ruining people’s lives, and abandoning her children,” she snaps, and then shoots her a sideways glance.

  “My parents didn’t tell me either,” Ava says in a gentle voice. “But I know they did it to protect me. I’m sure our mother did the same for you.”

  I pass around some sliced papaya and bananas on a palm leaf. Pulling the bird from the fire, I divide the meat between us.

  “So one bird is all you could manage?” Roxy frowns at me. “Maybe if you spent less time drooling over Ava, you could do a better job of taking care of me like you promised Dad.”

  She thinks I’ll be hurt by her comment, but I’m amused. “You’re just jealous that I have something to drool over other than dinner,” I say, and then watch Ava’s face flush. “Besides, I was teaching Ava how to hunt.”

  Roxy looks surprised. “Great. Well, it seems you two were made for each other.” She wraps up her share of the bird in a palm leaf with a large portion of the papaya, then grabs some bananas and gets up to leave. “I’m outta here.”

  “Don’t leave,” Ava says out of desperation. “Stay and eat with us. If you want, tomorrow I’ll show you what Dax taught me. We can shoot the bow together.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not really into it,” she replies, and then strolls off into the trees.

  Ava looks disheartened.

  “Cheer up,” I tell her. “You’ll get used to it. That’s how she always is.”

  I pour us some water, and we eat in silence for a minute or two.

  “I just thought she’d want to hang out and get to know me a little,” she says.

  “Give her some time. She doesn’t handle change well.” I smile gently. “We better clean this up and go inside. It’s getting dark.”

  She nods and helps me extinguish the fire.

  “What about Roxy? Will she be okay in the dark?”

  “She’s fine. She’s off to her secret place. There’s a cave there, so sometimes she stays all night.”

  We place the remaining fruit in the wooden bowl in the kitchen, and then I follow her up the long ladder and down the walkway to her room.

  “Goodnight. I’ll be dreaming of ways to create us a soccer ball,” I announce with a wink. She tells me goodnight, and I head to my room.

  The song I’ve been forming in my head begs to be played, so I grab my guitar from the corner and start to play. After a few times, I switch to playing some songs my dad taught me. When I finally stop playing and lay in bed, my worried thoughts take hold. Will I hear someone snooping around below in the middle of the night?

  I fight the urge to go back to Ava’s room and sit in the chair in the corner to keep guard. Maybe I will when I’m sure she’s asleep. I stare at the ceiling even though it’s too dark to see it and focus on every sound outside. I’m used to the normal sounds so anything out of the ordinary should stand out.

  A thump quickens my heart, and I freeze. I didn’t hear the seashells, but I could swear I just heard footsteps outside. I sit up and strain to listen. Definitely footsteps. Damn it! The sound of soft footsteps is getting close.

  I spring to my feet, grab my bow, load an arrow, and turn to the door just in time to see a faint blue glow and then a silhouette as someone launches themselves in the room. The figure creeps toward my bed. I aim my arrow at the back of the person’s head but when she leans down, I see her long hair fall forward over the bed.

  “Ava?”

  She inhales a sharp breath and flings around to see me standing in the corner with my bow and arrow drawn. I drop them on the floor to run to her, and she flings her arms around my neck.

  “Are you all right?” I let out a short laugh. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

  She holds her grip around me. “I’m scared. I heard a noise, well, a lot of noises, and it’s so dark. Please don’t leave me alone. I can’t stand it,” she says. She must be relieved that she made it to my room without falling prey to the imaginary dangers lurking outside her room that she’s certain are looming in the trees. I don’t want to tell her that she’s not that far off.

  “Shhh, it’s okay,” I say, putting my hand on the back of her head. “I’m sorry; I forgot how frightening the darkness is. I guess I’m just used to it. Come on, I’ll come back to your room and stay until you fall asleep.”

  “No. You can’t leave me,” she says in a panic.

  My heart leaps in my chest. I reach up to gently release her grip from around my neck. “Okay, whatever you want. Let me get my bow.”

  She holds the light up for me to pick up the bow and arrow, and then I grab the quiver from where it hangs on the chair. I take her by the hand and lead her back to her room.

  “There was a noise over there.” She points to the wall near the entrance to the shower.

  “It’s just a bat,” I say calmly. “It won’t hurt you. Come on, lay down.”

  She lies down on the bed, and I join
her.

  “You better turn that off. It may come in handy sometime,” I tell her.

  She powers the phone off and drops it on the floor, then rolls over to face me. I can barely see her.

  “Dax?” she whispers.

  “What?”

  “I can’t see you. Give me your hand.”

  I lift my hand in response to her request and she gropes until she finds it in the dark. I interlock my fingers with hers and squeeze tightly. She pulls our hands to her chest. Maybe holding my hand there will put a temporary stop to the hemorrhaging hole inside her heart.

  “Relax. I’m not going anywhere,” I assure her. “You know… if you need me to, I could always kiss you to sleep,” I say, and I laugh quietly. “But only if you ask really nice… and beg.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” she says with obvious sarcasm. “But I do have a favor.”

  “Name it,” I say a little too quickly. “Your wish is my command.”

  “Sing to me.”

  I wasn’t expecting that, and I don’t say anything for a few seconds. “I don’t have my guitar,” I tell her. “Besides—I can kiss better than I can sing.”

  My mind wanders where it shouldn’t, but she is not so easily distracted.

  “Please? I heard you earlier, and your voice is amazing.”

  My dad had a good voice, and sometimes I’d sing with him, but this is something new for me and I’m nervous. I’ve never sung in front of anyone before, and now silence fills the room from my indecisiveness. Why does she want me to sing? I’d rather use my mouth for a different activity.

  She tucks her head into my shoulder, and my heart rate picks up speed. I enjoy the moment until one of her tears falls onto my skin.

  “Please?” she says again, in barely more than a whisper, and I know, without a doubt, I will do anything in the world for this girl. I want her to be happy. I sing until I lull us both to sleep.

  I wake before she does but refuse to move. I didn’t even move last night except to comfort her when she jerked in her sleep and I was sure she’d had a nightmare. She kept our entwined hands tight to her chest, so I squeezed hers gently and kissed the top of her head before drifting back to sleep. Not exactly the best protection plan. Zoron could have snuck in and slit all our throats easily, and I wouldn’t have heard him coming, but at least I would have died a happy man with Ava by my side.

  I’ve been laying here for an hour, and now the shrill call of a bird causes her to jerk awake. She smiles up at me.

  “Can I have my hand back now?” I tease. “You haven’t let me move it all night, and I’m afraid there may be permanent damage.”

  She lets go of my hand. I roll over and groan, part legit and the other part exaggeration because I want to see her blush. I flex my arm to get the blood flowing.

  “So what was that song you sang to me last night?” she asks, apparently doing her best to distract us both from the situation she finds awkward.

  “It’s a song my dad used to sing to me when I was little. It always put me to sleep. He taught me to play it on the guitar a few weeks before he died.” The memory makes me smile. “Dad traded Chief Anwai his waterlogged watch for that guitar. Originally, it belonged to some poor, adventurous soul who made the mistake of exploring Lamarai Island and wound up being dinner.” I climb out of the hammock bed and pick up my bow and arrow. “I’m going back to my room now. I’ll see you downstairs.”

  “Dax?”

  I peek my head back in the doorway.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime,” I say, and with any luck, it will be every time.