The Chronicles of William Wilde Boxset 1
Page 5
“Look inside and find out.”
William cracked open the box and discovered a platinum chain with an oval locket made of gold. The locket had a small latch, and William snapped it open. Inside lay a picture of his family: his mother with her dark skin and bright smile, his red-headed father, grinning in the cheesy way only he could, and Landon, his big brother, with an arm thrown carelessly across William’s shoulder.
William’s eyes misted.
“I made it last week,” Mr. Zeus said softly. “I thought you might want a way to see your family whenever you wished.”
“Thank you,” William said, blinking to keep away the tears.
Mr. Zeus gave a tight-lipped, sympathetic nod before relighting his pipe. All it took was a flick of his hand, and a flame somehow appeared on the tip of his finger. Mr. Zeus was something of a magician, but William had yet to figure out how he made fire appear.
“One more thing,” Mr. Zeus said. He pulled a box off the fireplace mantle. “I fixed him.”
William slipped the chain around his neck and took the box, grinning. He lifted the lid, and a stuffed black dragon stared back at him.
“Is that Bartholomew?” Jason asked.
William nodded, unable to stop smiling. “My dad gave him to me.”
Bartholomew had been the first present William had ever received. His father had given the stuffed dragon to him on his first birthday, and for years, he and Bartholomew had been inseparable. They’d gone everywhere, on every vacation, sleepover, and summer camp.
Eventually William had outgrown the small, stuffed dragon, and several years back, he had shoved Bartholomew into a box under his bed. Bartholomew had lain there, forgotten as time slowly ravaged him, leaving him dust-covered and moth-eaten. It had broken William’s heart to rediscover Bartholomew ruined like that. Now here he was, all fixed up and looking new, thanks to Mr. Zeus.
“Thank you,” William said to Mr. Zeus, choked up with emotion. The little dragon had a nick on his right ear and was still missing a claw on one paw, but other than that, he was fine. He was Bartholomew.
“Thank you,” William repeated, holding Bartholomew close as flashes of memories played in his mind: Bartholomew’s first bath; his tears when Bartholomew’s claw had torn off; Landon teasing him about having a ‘baby’ toy.
“Think nothing of it, my boy,” Mr. Zeus said.
The basement of Mr. Zeus’ house was a large, open space with a ceiling high enough to play basketball and one of William’s favorite places in the world. He and Jason spent most nights there, training in kickboxing, judo, or the longsword. Mr. Zeus knew quite a lot about martial arts, and he’d readily agreed to take William on as a student.
Over the past few years, the hard practices had slowly transformed William’s soft, skinny frame into one that held glimpses of strength, dexterity, and coordination. The changes in his body had accelerated over the past few months, and sometimes, when no one was looking, William would preen in front of the mirror, proud of his new muscles.
Just as important, the time spent sparring, grappling, or swinging a sword had given William a shelter, a place where, for a few precious hours each day, he could forget about the pain and anger from his family’s death . . . or at least have a physical outlet for them.
He didn’t need much of either anymore, though. At this point, he genuinely liked training.
Tonight was judo, and since Mr. Zeus had already gone upstairs, William and Jason had turned on the boombox while they got in some final sparring. “Fight for Your Right (To Party!)” wailed through the speakers, music Mr. Zeus would have ridiculed as rhythmic noise.
“Last one,” Jason called out. “Go!”
William slipped his right hand inside the collar of Jason’s gi. They pushed and pulled against one another. Jason tried for an inside trip, but William stepped over it. Again, they strained for position. William snaked a leg between Jason’s and twisted at the hips. Incipient hope rose when he felt his friend’s feet come off the ground. William couldn’t help it. He grinned in anticipation.
His budding joy crashed down like a Jenga tower. Jason fought off William’s attempted throw. A hard pull put William off-balance. The world rotated, and in those few seconds where time seemed to stretch forever, he realized his mistake and cursed aloud before slamming into the mat.
William groaned. He’d been so close. He lay on the ground, staring up at the ceiling and the bright, fluorescent lights as self-directed anger built. He slapped the mat. Idiot!
“A little more focus and commitment to your throw and you would have had me,” Jason said, flopping down next to him. “Plus, you gave up too easily when I fought off your throw. You should have tried harder to get it.”
William snarled as he slammed another fist into the padded mat before rising to his feet. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already heard or figured out on his own. He had given up too easily. He’d quit. He was a quitter. That’s how it had always been with him when it came to sports.
“Are you all right?” Jason asked, eyeing him in evident concern.
“I’m fine,” William snapped, struggling to get his anger under control. “I’m just mad at myself.”
“You sure?” Jason rose to his feet as well.
“I’m sure,” William answered. The anger abated. “I’m just tired of losing. I don’t care if it’s lack of focus, lack of will, or lack of strength, I’m tired of it.”
“It’s not lack of will,” Jason said. “If that was it, you would have stopped sparring against me a long time ago.”
“Then what was it?”
“I already told you: loss of focus,” Jason replied, tapping him on the forehead. “You smiled. That was when you lost. That’s when I knew I’d win. And you’re plenty strong enough, even with your noodle arms.” Jason grinned, and the tension between them popped like a soap bubble as William’s anger drained away.
“I may be stronger, but I’m not strong enough. Not yet, anyway.”
“You’ll get there,” Jason said.
“Sometimes I think you’re right,” William said. A strange, but familiar sadness took him, and he sighed. “And sometimes it seems like I’m no better than I was when I first started.”
“Stop,” Jason said. “We both know that’s not true. What’s really got you so bothered all of a sudden?”
William frowned, unable to explain what he felt. “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “Ever since the car accident, it’s like something’s missing from my life, you know? There’s something that should be there, but it isn’t. I’ve got all this sadness and anger. They’re like waves trying to pull me under. . . .” He ground to a frustrated halt. “Forget it.”
“There is something missing,” Jason said. “Your family. Anger and sorrow are understandable. I wouldn’t expect you to be all sunshine and rainbows. Give it time.”
“I know,” William agreed. He breathed out in relief as the sorrow let up. “Let’s go up and see what we have left to eat. I’m hungry, and food always makes me feel better.”
“I know what you mean,” Jason said with an understanding smile.
“You think Mr. Zeus left us some pizza?” William asked.
“Not likely. It’s LaRosa’s, remember? You know how he is with that stuff.”
“Do we have any Pringles?”
“I think I saw a couple of cans.”
William grinned. “Then if we can’t have pizza, there’s always that. Plus, it’s not too late to watch a movie.”
“Which one?”
“Dragonslayer?”
“Sounds like a plan, Galen.”
THE FIRST WEEKEND
“Pay attention,” Serena hissed, elbowing William in the ribs.
His eyes snapped open. “I’m awake,” William mumbled.
“Uh-huh. Right.”
William didn’t bother protesting since Serena was correct. He had been dozing, but he didn’t think it was entirely his fault. Mrs. Nelson, their Biology teach
er, was just so boring. She presented the lessons like a robot, with no emotion or life.
William glanced at the clock and mentally groaned. Thirty-five minutes to go? How? Was the clock not moving any faster? It felt like they’d already been here for an hour. He sighed. At least it was Friday. Only a few more hours and the first week of school would be over.
William sat up straighter and tried to pay attention. But once again his eyes drooped and his head bobbed.
“William,” Serena hissed.
“I was just blinking.”
“If blinking means closing your eyes and keeping them closed, then sure you were.”
Mrs. Nelson chose that moment to pause in her dry recitation of facts and ask a question of the class. “Does an insect have an endoskeleton or an exoskeleton?”
William prayed she wouldn’t pick him to answer.
“William,” Mrs. Nelson said.
He mentally groaned. “Exoskeleton,” he said. It was a blind guess, but he forced confidence into his voice.
Mrs. Nelson cracked a bare smile. “Good. Now what is an exoskeleton?”
Shit. Now he was going to look stupid in front of Serena. Exoskeleton. What the hell was an exoskeleton? Wait. ‘Exo’ meant outside. Maybe . . . “Um. A skeleton worn on the outside,” he stated.
“Very good.” Mrs. Nelson’s smile broadened. “Maybe you were paying attention in between all that dozing.”
The class laughed, and William grinned as Mrs. Nelson went back to lecturing.
“How’d you know the answer?” Serena whispered. “You were asleep during that part.”
“Logic and brilliance,” William whispered back. “Now shush. I’m trying to pay attention.”
Serena elbowed him again even as she smiled in amusement.
The lecture finally ended—William even managed to stay awake during the rest of it—and afterward they were expected to dissect a beetle.
William eyed the bug in disgust. “Gross.”
“Aw, is the big, bad bug too scary for you?” Serena teased in a baby-voice.
William shot her an annoyed scowl. “Let’s just get this over with. The quicker we do, the quicker I won’t have to look at this B.E.M.”
Serena wore a frown of confusion. “What’s a B.E.M.?”
“Bug-eyed monster.”
Serena appeared to consider his words before breaking into a grin. “I like it. Let’s get this bug-eyed monster dissected.”
Like a flipped switch, she became all business, telling William to hold the beetle here, cut it there, and hand her the scalpel or forceps. Under her direction, they quickly had the insect turned inside out and dissected.
“Sweet. We’re all done,” William said, amazed they’d finished so quickly.
“Hi, Serena. William,” a voice said.
William glanced up. Steve Aldo wore a friendly smile, but William’s hackles rose.
“Hi,” Serena replied.
William merely grunted acknowledgment.
“These bugs are pretty gross, aren’t they?” Steve asked. “I don’t even want to touch mine.” He did a double-take when he saw their already-dissected beetle. “You can’t be serious. How’d you finish so fast?
“Teamwork,” William replied.
“Well then I want to be on your team,” Steve said, sounding awed.
“It was mostly Serena,” William admitted.
“It was both of us.”
Steve glanced from one of them to the other and shrugged. “Whoever it is, I’ll trade you a Kim Morris and a Sonya Bowyer if I can work with you guys.”
“Maybe next quarter,” Serena said with a chuckle.
“Is that when we do the pig?” Steve asked.
“Yeah,” William answered, although he didn’t want to think about it. A fetal pig. It sounded grosser than the B.E.M. He happened to glance down, and noticed Steve’s shoes. “Those new Air Jordans?”
“Yep,” Steve replied, puffing up with pride.
“I thought the Air Jordan 2s were supposed to come out in a few months,” William said.
“They are, but I couldn’t pass these up. They were on sale.”
“Can you dunk in them?” William asked.
“No. Can you?”
“Can I dunk in your shoes?”
“No. Can you dunk?” Steve clarified, sounding annoyed.
“I’ve got a vertical leap like you wouldn’t believe,” William answered.
“Really?” Steve said in a tone of obvious skepticism.
“Oh, yeah.”
“How high?”
“I can jump right over a piece of paper.”
“A piece of paper?” Steve barked laughter before casting an appraising gaze upon William. “You’re a lot funnier than I remember.”
“Funnier-looking is what he always says,” Serena supplied.
“Yeah, that too,” Steve agreed. He appeared ready to head back to his table, but he turned to William. “You know, we should hang out sometime.”
William almost fell off his stool in shock.
The first week of school had ended and the weekend had just started.
On the ride home, Serena hummed along to the song playing on the radio. Humming was the most she was willing to do, though. She never sang. Singing made her feel vulnerable, exposed. Singing was too uncontrolled and emotional. It left her desiring things she could never have, things she told herself she didn’t want.
Lien, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She crowed out the words to the song in full-throated splendor, her delight obvious. Maybe she did so because it was the end of the school week and she was overjoyed that they were heading home. Or maybe she was just a passionate person.
Whatever the reason, Serena secretly admired her, and she sometimes wondered what it would be like to live in Lien’s world: open and carefree.
“We still doing movie night tomorrow?” Daniel asked.
Serena set aside her useless speculations and returned her attention to the conversation.
“Sure,” William answered in his pleasant drawl. “As long as Mr. Zeus doesn’t mind.”
“He doesn’t. I already checked,” Jason said.
“Then we’re set?” Daniel asked.
“We’re set,” Jason confirmed.
What’s movie night?” Serena asked. “Other than the obvious.”
“We hang out and watch a movie,” William explained.
“And we throw popcorn at the TV if the movie sucks,” Lien added.
“No, we don’t,” William corrected.
“We should,” Lien countered.
“Then you can vacuum it up afterward.”
“No, thanks. I like it better when you do that.” Lien gave William an unrepentant grin.
“You want to come?” William asked Serena. “I mean, I know all your furniture and stuff just got in yesterday and you’re busy unpacking, but if you want, it’ll be tomorrow at eight.”
“Yeah, you should definitely come,” Lien agreed. “The guys always choose stupid movies about spaceships and robots. It’ll be nice to have another girl pick something good for once.”
“I’ll be there,” Serena said offering a feigned pleased smile.
Her true satisfaction derived from her work, and her work was progressing nicely. Matters between her and William were advancing much as she had hoped they would. He liked and trusted her, wanted to be around her, which meant that her father, the one to whom she and Isha answered, would give her the time she needed to bring William in to join their people. And he would join. It was just a question of when and how willingly.
“What are we watching?” Serena glanced at the others through guileless eyes. After long practice, she knew that no hint of her actual thoughts marred her features.
“The Goonies,” Jason said.
“Thank God! Something funny,” Lien said. “I was afraid it would be The Terminator again. You guys chose that movie like ten times in a row last year.”
“I’ll be back
,” Jason quipped in a vaguely Germanic accent.
Serena didn’t know what that meant, but it must have been a bad joke since the others groaned.
“Dork,” William said.
“But it got you to groan,” Jason said with a pleased smirk.
“More like made me want to punch you in the nose,” Lien muttered.
“How do you decide what movie to watch?” Serena asked, changing the topic since she didn’t know what the others were talking about.
“We rotate,” Daniel explained. “I choose one week, then William, then Lien, then Jason, and so on. And whoever chooses has to make sure there’s enough snacks and everything.”
“Is it always at William and Jason’s house?” Serena asked.
“Pretty much,” Daniel answered. “They’ve got a nicer TV.”
“Anyway, you’ll like The Goonies,” William said.
“You think so?” Serena asked.
“Yeah. I think I’ve gotten to know you well enough this past week to figure what movies you might like.”
Serena studied his face. He wore a generous smile, and it struck her how much William was like Lien. They were both so open-hearted and trusting.
All of them were. They shared a camaraderie Serena had never before experienced, and she didn’t like admitting how much she enjoyed it. It felt good and right, even as she recognized its naivety.
A weight of years rested on her shoulders as she viewed their innocence through the prism of her far more experienced life.
“You okay?” William asked. “You look sad.”
“I’m fine,” Serena replied, blinking away unexpected tears. “I was just thinking of my mom. We had something like your movie nights, too.” She added the lie as an excuse for the tears even while she pushed aside thoughts of friendship and camaraderie and focused on the task at hand. William was her mission, the focus of her pilgrimage. She had to deliver him to her people. Nothing else mattered.
William offered her a tight-lipped smile of sympathy. “I understand.”
He would, given what had happened to his family last year. Serena offered him a brief nod of ‘thanks’ even as she did her best to keep his sympathy from touching her heart. She didn’t need it. She didn’t want it.