Spark: One of Us Series

by Faulks, Kim

  “No metal, I promise…” He forced a smile. “Plastic cutlery it is.”

  His fingers brushed my arm, and then in a heartbeat he knelt on the ground in front of me and held out his arms.

  Something pathetic rose inside me. Something weak and vulnerable. I tried to choke it, tried to smother the call. But it was undeniable. Like the storm trapped inside. I took a step forward, drawn by something bigger than fear and hate—I was drawn by need. His arms went around me.

  The need to be held.

  The need to be wanted.

  Just for a moment, until Monday when the sheriff came.

  Until they learned to be frightened....

  Warm, soft…I laid my head against his shoulder, and shuddered. Trust, the word resounded louder than any thunder, and lit up my sky.

  Trust.

  I tried to remember my home…my real home, the one before that place with the pain and the hurt…the images were fuzzy. A white house, pretty pink flowers in the garden outside. A woman was there, an older woman with bright blue eyes, the same eyes I saw in the mirror…she smiled at me, a sad, pain filled smile. She was dressed in black...and so was I.

  Pictures in my hand, images of a woman...and a man, smiling...happy. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew them...Mom, whispered, that voice. Mom and Dad. But their memories were hazy, hidden deep in the darkness of my mind.

  It wasn't your fault…the older woman murmured. I don't want you to blame yourself, you hear me? They should never have gone out that day...should never have driven in that storm. There are these people, government people...they say they can help you…they can try…

  “Help you…we can help you,” Seth murmured and dragged me closer.

  I gripped his shirt as tears fell. A tremor broke free, shuddering my bones.

  She stared at me, and somehow that made this even worse. She watched my pain…watched me hurting. I sucked in hard breaths and lifted my gaze to hers.

  Tears shimmered in her eyes. She wrapped her arms across her body and held tight, until finally he pulled away.

  “Ugh.” He wiped his eyes. “Okay, we can do this…we can work this out. First thing is breakfast. You need to eat, and Leah and I need to talk. So cereal, how does that sound. Cereal in a bowl with a plastic spoon.”

  A smile broke free as I nodded. “Okay.”

  Until the smile wavered. “Are you safe here? Are there people looking for you? If there are, then we need to be prepared.”

  I clawed fragments of memories together. Needle stung in my arm…so tired. My hands tied behind my back. Just drive, the man’s voice filled my head as I clawed my way to the surface. This is the road. They’ll stop for her. They won’t be able not too. She won’t like her…not at first. But she’ll still take her in. She’ll still listen…

  Were they coming? Were they coming back for me?

  The answer resounded like a wave of relief. I shook my head. They weren’t coming back…not now… “No, they’re not coming for me.”

  “Good.” That smile was back, but a darkness sparked in his brown eyes. Something frightened, something terrified. He rose, his hand slipped around my shoulders. “Now, about that cereal…”

  I nodded when I had to, smiled when he turned to me. But it was the woman I watched. The woman who held me at arms-length and the man’s words from the car filled my head once more. She won’t like her…not at first. But she’ll still take her in. She’ll still listen…

  I took a step, and then climbed back onto the stool. Seth yanked open a drawer, utensils clamored around until he pulled out a massive serving spoon. There was a wince as he held it out to me. “It’s all we’ve got I’m afraid.”

  He was trying. He was trying for me. I leaned over the bowl and grabbed the spoon from his hand. The milk was cold as I chewed and swallowed. A glass of juice followed.

  Still she watched me…until he took a step toward her and they moved into the foyer.

  I focused on my food, the sweet, shriveled raisins, the tiny bits of apricots and the small puff of rice. Their voices rose an octave, drifting to where I sat…

  “If we do this, then we could be putting ourselves in danger. We don’t know her, we don’t know anything about her.”

  “You wanted to make a difference,” he snarled. “Then, there’s your difference. You fight for everyone else, why not fight for her?”

  Silence followed as I chewed and swallowed until there was nothing left. I placed the plastic spoon carefully on the counter and focussed on the rim of the glass…waiting.

  Footsteps sounded as they returned to the kitchen. I lifted my head and turned. But it wasn’t Seth I looked at…it wasn’t Seth I needed to see. Leah strode closer, lifted her leg, skirt stretched once more as she slipped onto the seat again. “You think you can talk to me now? Think you can try to answer some questions? It’s not going to be easy, but I can promise you that I’ll do my best to figure this out.”

  She won’t like her…not at first. But she’ll still take her in. She’ll still listen…

  I nodded as those words filled me.

  There was the ghost of a smile, a flare inside her gaze—and unlike Seth, she wasn’t frightened…she was hungry…like part of my beast lived inside her as well, and this beast was ravenous—this beast wanted blood.

  This beast wanted justice.

  Finley

  Blakemore 2005

  “I don’t want to do this anymore.” I dropped my gaze to the broken cigarette lighter in the dashboard. Just a socket, an empty, hollow thing.

  “You wanna eat right, boy?” The words were a slur.

  They were always a slur.

  He leaned close. Fetid Whiskey breath. I winced and swallowed the urge to gag. His fingers fumbled, fighting to find purchase around my shirt.

  Dirty, blackened hands. Stained from chopping up cars late at night in Buddy’s shed. Threads on my shirt popped, fabric tore. Don’t touch me…don’t touch me…don’t touch me…

  “Well?” he snarled. “Goddamn selfish. That’s what you are. Just like your Momma, stupid fucking whore.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. I’d heard the word before, many, many times before. “Don’t say that about her.”

  “Or what?” He pushed my chest, shoving me toward the door. “You gonna hit me? Gonna hit your old man?”

  I stared at the ruptured vinyl on the dashboard as my pulse picked up pace. I would. I’d hit him…I’d put him in the ground…if I could.

  “You’re not gonna do it. You’re not gonna touch a damn hair on your old man’s head. Too much like you’re Momma, goddamn fucking pussy. Now—” His heavy hand landed on my arm and he shoved me toward the door. “Get in there and this time don’t fucking leave without my money.”

  I slammed into the side of the door, my head cracked against the glass. Fingers trembled as I reached for the handle. I yanked and shoved, and then slid from Dad’s truck.

  He leaned over, as far as he could, grasped the arm rest and yanked. The door closed with a thud, blowing my hair from my eyes.

  His money…his money…all his damn money.

  I swiped my palms against my shorts and lifted my gaze. Searle’s Grocery Mart was busy, Mom’s and Dad’s were in there. Young people, old people…nice people…people who didn’t deserve this.

  I lifted my right hand, index finger out straight, thumb cocked like a gun.

  No, not like one…I glanced over my shoulder to the big side mirrors on the old truck. The steel in my hand glinted, just like the real thing. My reflection shimmered as I opened myself to this power. Gone was the nine year old loser, the one who couldn’t stand up to his dad, and in his place was a man…an older…cleaner man. Long blond hair turned into a short black crew cut. Filthy t-shirt turned black, swelling with a chest I didn’t have.

  I’d stepped out of the pick up a boy…but a man rounded the rear, took one glance around the crowded carpark and then made for the front door of the store.

  I dropped my cocked ha
nd beside me, tucking it behind my thigh as I lowered my gaze, passing under the CCTV camera’s overhead.

  It didn’t matter, none of it would.

  In a few minutes they wouldn’t be looking for me.

  They’d be looking for a ghost.

  “Listen to me,” I roared, my voice morphing, distorting. “Don’t make me hurt anyone. So give me all the money. Empty the cash registers now!”

  The young woman at the nearest register was new…Thanks for your patience. I’m in training…said the badge above her name. She took one look at the gun in my hand and stiffened. Her eyes fluttered, knees buckled and she dropped to the ground where she stood.

  Shit…I glanced back through the front door to the carpark. He was out there…waiting…waiting for his goddamn money. I swung my finger toward the man at the register next to her. “I’ll shoot you. I’ll damn well will shoot you.”

  “Give him the damn money!” A woman at the checkout snapped and swung a panicked gaze to the guy.

  She gripped her little girl hard, pushing her behind as she kept my gaze. They saw a monster…saw a beast—saw a man who wasn’t me.

  The man fumbled, stabbing buttons in a panic. “It’s o-okay,” he stuttered. “I’m getting it…look, I’m getting it.”

  An older man and his wife came to the front of the store. Dark eyes widened as he glanced at my face and then the gun in my hand. He pushed her backwards as I swung my finger toward them. “Get back, everyone get the Hell back. Just give me my money!”

  I opened my mouth and my father spewed out. Panic followed as the guy at the register shoved bills into a paper bag and lifted it into the air. He cowered, glancing at the gun and then my face. Pale skin turned ashen, until the big pimples on his face seemed to glow neon red.

  He thinks I’ll kill him.

  The little girl hiding behind her Mom burst into tears.

  They all think I’ll kill them.

  And the memory of that feeling returned. I knew it well, hidden in the bedroom of our trailer…on the night my Mom went out to meet my father and never returned.

  I flinched from the memory and stared at my hand…the monster in me wavered, black steel of the gun now a skinny dirty finger.

  Black marks on the inside of my wrist…thick numbers marred my skin.

  Three two eight eight…

  “What the Hell?” the mother whispered as the illusion fell.

  Sirens echoed in the distance. I opened myself to that power and lifted my gaze to the cameras overhead. And as the little girl behind her unleashed a shrill, piercing scream I knew it was all too late.

  I stumbled forward, snatched the paper bag from the guy and turned as sirens filled the air.

  My busted sneakers slapped the floor as I lunged. Panic filled me, scanning the car park right, and then left and back again as the thunder of my pulse filled my head.

  But it didn’t matter…my father was long gone.

  Sirens wailed. Red and blue flashed as the sheriff’s car mounted the curb. Tires skidded…black and white was all I saw.

  “Get your hands up,” the roar came over the speaker as I turned.

  The lights blurred as I gripped the bag tight. “I got your damn money.” Tears slipped down my cheeks as the sheriff climbed out of the car and raised his gun.

  The afternoon sun bounced off the metal. Only this was real…this one wasn’t an illusion.

  “Get down on the ground,” he roared as a patrol car pulled in behind him. “Now!”

  Fingers unfurled and the paper bag slipped. It hit the ground at my feet as I stared at the place where my father’s truck had been minutes ago.

  Money spilled from the bag, fluttering before a twenty-dollar note broke free. I dropped to one knee, and then the other, hands out wide as I lay against the asphalt and cried.

  The money…his money was snatched away by the ghostly touch of the wind. Heavy boots echoed…hands followed, gripping mine, twisting and pinching. Steel slapped around my wrists. I knew that sound well.

  “Are you alone?” The Sheriff roared as the two-way on his shoulder cracked through the air. “Where is he? Where’s the other man?”

  Voices called behind me, screaming, weeping. The sound was a tunnel…a dark empty tunnel as someone screamed. “He did this! That kid had a gun!”

  My arms snapped backwards, pulling until they could no more. I cried out with the pain as I was lifted from the ground. My sneakers skimmed the asphalt until I stood on the tips of my toes.

  “Where the fuck is he?” The sheriff’s face filled my gaze. Eyes wide, lips curled. “The man you came in with…where the fuck is he?”

  “Nowhere,” I whispered.

  He dragged me with him as he made for the cruiser. The two-way cracked in my ears with shot-gun questions desperate for answers. The sheriff yanked open the door and shoved me inside. Silence swallowed me...my heart thudded in my ears like the boom inside a drum.

  I lifted my head, watching as he strode toward the money, grasped the fluttering bills and pushed them inside the brown paper bag. The male attendant stumbled out of the Grocery store, sobbing and crying.

  I tore away from the vision and closed my eyes. I messed up…messed up bad. Cuffs wore against my wrists, the edges grinding against bone, and in a second my mind was snatched from the backseat of the cruiser.

  I was back there…in that place…with their screams ringing in my ears.

  I want my Mom! The kid next to me screamed. His voice bounced around inside my head…I could still see him, still see the silver light in one eye, and fear in the other.

  Their screams smothered me…blending with the distorted sounds, like the boom of a drum turned up loud, layer on layer…on layer. I ground my jaw, muscles of my shoulders strained as I opened my eyes and stared at what I’d done.

  Minutes felt like hours until the sheriff strode out of the mart and headed for the car. He yanked the door open and slid behind the driver’s seat, waiting for a second before he turned. “You’re in some serious trouble kid, now I want you to tell me the truth. The man…the man you were with in there. Is he still in there?”

  His face blurred under a sheen as I shook my head. One quick nod and the sheriff started the car, then we were backing out of the carpark of the store.

  Still that car space was empty…where Dad had been.

  My hands were squashed, buckling against the steel cuffs behind my back. I leaned forward, jolting and swaying as the car turned…and then turned again.

  The sheriff spoke…I tried to nod, tried to answer what I could.

  “What’s your name son?”

  “Finley…Finley Stutter, Sir.”

  “Where’s your parents, Finley?”

  I turned to stare out of the window…Mom…mom was gone, left me alone. I swallowed hard.

  “We’re going to have to call them, you understand right?” the sheriff spoke.

  A tear slipped as I nodded. I tried to shake it away, tried to shake it all away as we pulled into the station and the sheriff killed the engine.

  * * *

  “Now, these are some serious charges, son.” The sheriff leaned across the desk, and stared down at me. “You might be a minor, but these are serious extenuating circumstances.”

  He said serious twice, like the weight of what I’d done should be heavier. Just like the hand around my shoulders.

  “Tell the truth.” The snarl came from my right.

  He was trying…trying not to slur his words. Trying not to let the sheriff see the pinch on the back of my arm. Trying to be a different man…trying to look respectable.

  “Tell the good man here what he wants to know, Fin,” my father urged.

  His hand slipped…fingers fumbled, pinching the throbbing skin at the back of my arm. “Go on now.”

  I winced, clenched my jaw and swallowed the whimper, before I dragged in a shuddery breath and answered. “It was just me. I acted alone.”

  Papers in the file were shuffled before the sher
iff spoke. “That’s a damn lot of money, what did you want it for?”

  Give me my money! My father roared inside my head. Spittle flecked my cheek…the smell of his breath so rancid it twisted my belly…You give me my money boy, or you’re on your own. I’ll take you back there…take you back to that place. Let them have you. They liked you, didn’t they? What did they do to a young boy like you anyways? Don’t tell me…I don’t wanna know. You think they’ll pay me? Think they’ll give me more of that money? I bet they will. The Governments got deep pockets boy…real deep pockets.

  “Finley?”

  I flinched as memories hammered inside my chest…boom…boom…boom…desperate to get free.

  My father shoved against the back of the chair and answered for me. “What do any of these boys want money for. Girls…porn mags…a new fuckin’ bike.”

  The sheriff winced. His gaze hardened. He didn’t like my dad. Didn’t like him one bit.

  The Stutter’s were nothing more than redneck trash. Momma told me that my whole life. Good for nothin’ redneck trash.

  She used to curl her nose when she said it…just like the sheriff did now.

  I closed my eyes. I could just walk out of here, become anyone…do anything. Just a trick of the mind, right? Twisting and turning, making me into something I’m not. Boy…man…woman…girl…

  Just a trick of the mind. An illusion, like my entire life was an illusion. An empty cigarette lighter…a hole…a big, gaping goddamn hole. It was inside me…all the way inside me.

  I could change into anything, but a leopard couldn’t change its spots. That’s what they say, right? A leopard couldn’t change its spots. I was bad before this…and I’ll be still bad after.

  Rotten, like a monster…like a beast.

  “You understand what’s going to happen, right?” The sheriff slid his hand across the scratched yellow desk and moved the Coke can from my grasp. “You could be taken away from your daddy and placed in a home.”

  Just like before.

  Before in the darkness.

  With the deafening sound smothering my screams.