by Becky Norman
“What?” she asked in mock surprise.
“You know very well what,” Lori said, trying to maintain her humour. “Noel is not a money-grubbing gypsy, just waiting around to see if I was going to get a huge chunk of money. He’s not like that. In fact, after I told him, he said something about it paying for more education and then went on to another subject like I had told him somebody had given me a stick of gum – not a million dollars.”
“Oh?” her mother asked, clearly sceptical. “Well, that’s good to know. But if he – or anybody else – starts asking you for loans –”
“Mum, enough now,” Lori interrupted. “You brought me up better than that and I don’t associate with people who are going to take advantage of me. Have some faith,” she chided.
“Alright, alright,” her mother surrendered. “I just want this to be a safe, secure beginning for you. Heaven knows you’ve had enough drama and tragedy lately to last you a lifetime. Although I’m sure you wish you’d received this money under better circumstances, at least some good should come of it.”
“It’ll be alright, Mum,” Lori avowed. “I’ll be careful.”
**********
The group had agreed to meet at Jeret’s and Noel’s apartment before setting out together to the university concert hall where B’alam was appearing. Lori received a quick kiss on the cheek from Jeret as he handed her a ticket for the event, she tipping her head slightly so that her new black hat wasn’t in the way. Jeret reached for the shoulders of her coat as she shrugged out of it and he murmured in her ear in true Jeret fashion, “Whattya say? Was that kiss worth a thousand bucks, do you think?”
Lori laughed and pushed him away. “Hardly. I think I’ve got some loose pocket change here, though...” she answered, pretending to root through the bottom of her purse.
“Oh,” Jeret panted, grabbing his chest and staggering backward as though mortally wounded, “you cut me to the quick.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lori answered, rolling her eyes at him. “So I take it Noel has told you about my change of fortune?”
“He has indeed,” Jeret answered. “Does one say congratulations for something like that? It seems wrong.”
Lori shrugged. “I guess it’s not that appropriate, is it? But I do have to admit, there’s a tremendous sense of relief when you know you’re not going to be forced to eat egg noodles with butter and parsley the rest of your life.”
“Hmmm,” Jeret said, rubbing the blond down on his chin in mock contemplation. “I’ll have to try that sometime – it sounds good.”
Lori chuckled and pushed him lightly away a second time. “Where’s your roommate?” she asked boldly.
“He’s in my room, on the computer. He’s trying to get some background on this B’alam guy but everything’s shrouded in mystery.”
Lori raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in the direction of Jeret’s bedroom. “Mind if I go in?”
“Help yourself,” Jeret called back as a knock sounded on the door, “I’ll just let Lynta in.”
Noel was peering intently at the computer screen in Jeret’s room, his unbound black hair brushing softly against his shoulders and slightly hiding his face from view as he leaned over to study the information about B’alam.
“Hey, you,” she said quietly as she entered the room and Noel spun quickly in his seat to see who had entered.
“Mmm,” he said in appreciation when he saw who it was. He slid gracefully out of the chair and came to wrap his arms around her.
He had his suede coat on with the fringe, a burgundy dress shirt on beneath, and a pair of black jeans covered his beaten cowboy boots. When he took her in his arms, Lori breathed a deep breath of him, intoxicated by the smell of the leather, the slight hint of fried onions clinging to his hair, and the subtle smell of sweetgrass and sandalwood that always seemed to pervade his skin.
He stepped back a bit to look her over, his expression one of appreciation and – surprisingly – gratitude. “You look fantastic,” he said. “That top matches your eyes and hair perfectly.”
She self-consciously looked down at the black, grey and green top she was wearing; its scalloped neckline suited her long neck well but it was lower cut than she would have normally worn and Lori was still getting used to the feel of air on so much of her skin.
“Thanks,” she said modestly, brushing at the fabric, trying to pull it down in back so that the neckline rose up a bit in front.
“No,” Noel contradicted, grabbing her hands. “Leave it. And do me another favour?” he asked as his eyes roamed up towards her head. “Take that hat off. I want us all to be as...visible...tonight as we can be.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him as she removed the hat, silently inquiring.
“I want B’alam to know about our affiliations with the cats,” Noel explained. “I think it’s important we be identifiable.”
Lori tossed her hat on Jeret’s bed and looked up in surprise as Noel lifted his hands and ran his fingers through her hair, fluffing up the locks that had been flattened by the cap. The touch seemed exceptionally intimate in the dim light of Jeret’s bedroom, the only sounds audible the quiet hum of the computer behind Noel and the soft murmuring of Jeret’s and Lynta’s voices in the other room.
Noel gathered up a thick bunch of her hair in each hand, rubbing it between his thumbs and forefingers as though it were priceless silk. “Gorgeous,” he murmured, then leaned in to kiss her.
She thought by now she’d be used to the sharp jolt of electricity that always blazed through her whenever she came in contact with him, but it made her gasp again this time, just as before.
His lips were soft and warm, and he took his time with the kiss which sent even more flickers of heat lightning across her face and down her neck. When he pulled away, Lori felt as though she had been savoured like the most delectable of foods.
Noel slid his hand down her arm, then entwined his fingers with hers and turned slightly away; she swayed towards him, drawn like the tide to the moon, and followed him towards the computer.
“I’ve been reading up about B’alam,” he stated. “He’s from Peru – of Mayan descent – like Jeret said. And he’s been quite controversial, even in his own birthplace. He apparently has made some rather disturbing comments in interviews about a Skygod who tells him what to do and he warns that those who don’t act with integrity will be destroyed. He’s been pointing fingers at those he thinks fall within that category ...and they’re people of great power in the world.”
Noel turned to give Lori a small, ironic smile. “Apparently the CEOs and Presidents of these major corporations don’t like to be threatened with death.”
Lori snorted and looked again at the website Noel had open. “I shouldn’t wonder,” she said. “What are we in for tonight, Noel?”
He shook his head. “I’ve no idea, but somehow I think we’re going to walk away with even more questions than we had before.”
**********
Night had fallen before they got underway and the roads were slick with slush, gleaming under the city’s streetlights. On the drive to the hall, the traffic around them slowly trickled to a standstill as they reached a crucial intersection near the auditorium.
Noel saw the flashing lights first and leaned forward in his seat.
“Pull over, Jeret,” he advised as he watched the eerie red glow flash off surrounding buildings, other cars, pedestrians on the sidewalk.
“Looks like there’s been an accident,” Jeret murmured, putting the car in park.
Noel felt Lori lean forward from the back seat, her head appearing between him and Jeret in the front. “What is it?” she asked.
Noel shook his head. “There’s been an accident, we think. At least, there’s a bunch of emergency vehicles up ahead.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than another ambulance came up behind them, forcing other cars still on the road to move over, as well. The group w
atched it race by, Noel sending a fleeting, heartfelt prayer up that all those involved would have the strength to endure what would need to be endured.
“Do you think I should offer to help?” Jeret asked. “I’m trained in CPR.”
Noel considered, but shook his head briefly. “The professionals are there already. It’s probably best for us to stay out of the way and let them do their jobs. Besides, it looks as though it’s near the intersection where the biggest protests were taking place – it could be dangerous.”
He felt Jeret’s eyes on him and knew the question that went unspoken. Since when has danger ever deterred you from doing anything? But Noel said no more.
A few more minutes went by and Noel could feel the tension increasing not only in their vehicle but also in the cars around them. The atmosphere was charged with the thrill and nervousness that accompanies all car wrecks. The underlying thread of “that could have been me” combined with the desire to help and run away all at the same time created an anxious crowd that was forced to sit and wait.
Noel shifted in his seat so he could see Lori and Lynta in the backseat. Both women looked at him, but said nothing. There really was nothing to say. Lori shrugged and gave him a half-smile, commiserating with the helplessness they all felt, but Lynta’s gaze started to slide off into the distance and Noel sharpened his gaze.
The Senegalese’s vision appeared to be glazing over and her body grew very still. She hadn’t fainted, but she was very far away, her eyes darting back and forth as though she were watching something else take place in front of her.
“Lynta...” Noel started, but then swung around in astonishment as Lori screamed and something hit the windshield at the same time.
The first thing Noel was aware of was a massive cat’s paw on the window in front of him, the claws out as the animal tried to get a purchase on the slippery surface underneath it. As it slid down the window, the telltale ear came into view.
“It’s Tuft,” Noel heard Jeret say in amazement at the same time Lynta spoke from the back seat.
“I have to go,” she mumbled, already pushing her way out of the car, pointed in the direction of the accident.
Tuft jumped off the hood of Jeret’s vehicle and began a steady trot towards the flashing lights, her stubby tail bobbing in rhythm to her gait. Lynta trailed behind as though in a trance, without a backward glance to her friends.
“Follow her!” Noel pleaded as he fumbled with the car door handle, Lori and Jeret already tumbling out of their seats, as well.
When they reached the scene of the accident it was even worse than Noel had imagined. There were bodies everywhere and one side of the street held rows of people on stretchers, lined up in their white cocoons, looking hauntingly like the triage area in a war zone.
“What happened?” Jeret shouted to one of the paramedics racing by.
“Somebody lost control of their car – drove it right into the mass of protestors on the sidewalk over there,” the EMT shouted back, jerking his head in the direction of the worst of the carnage.
“I know CPR,” Jeret shouted back, as he ran alongside the paramedic who was jogging off to Noel’s right. “How can I help?”
“Come with me,” the EMT answered heading off to the area where the heaviest concentration of bodies lied.
Jeret disappeared in the crowd and Noel took a deep breath, steadying himself. He closed his eyes and reached deep within, listening beyond the cries of the wounded, the barked orders of the first-aiders, and listened for those other voices – the ones that came in a whisper, calling for another kind of help.
When he opened his eyes, he knew what he needed to do. Lori was standing a few feet away from him, frozen by the horror around her, not knowing what to do. He walked towards her, touched her arm gently, making her jump, and put his mouth near her ear so she could hear him over the din.
“Come with me,” he urged. “We can help over here.”
He led her to the lines of stretchers, the rows of people who’d already been attended and were now awaiting ambulances or other modes of transportation to take them to nearby hospitals. He knelt by the first stretcher, pulling Lori down beside him, and smiled in greeting at an older woman who laid there, her head wrapped in a crude bandage with dried blood running in a zigzag pattern across her temple and down her cheek.
“Hello,” he said gently. “My name is Nahuel,” he offered.
“Emily,” the injured woman answered, her voice hoarse with shock.
“Emily, this is Lori, my friend,” he said, leaning back so Lori and the victim could make eye contact. There was a gasp from Lori and Noel looked sharply at her.
Lori glanced at him briefly, murmuring, “She’s one of my professors – Dr. Robertson.” She knelt down beside Noel and took the teacher’s hand in hers. “We’ll wait with you until the ambulance comes,” she promised.
Noel reached out and rested his hand gently on Emily’s bandaged head, lightly touching the padding over her wound. He closed his eyes and imagined the wound, what it looked like now, what it should look like when it was whole and healthy, and how the skin would look if it were to rapidly heal. He imagined the cells that had been torn asunder being put back together, the cut skin joining as though it had been stitched, the million little nerve endings and capillaries reattaching and sealing up. And then, in sudden inspiration, Noel thought of Lori’s kittens and how Luke and Leia had used purring to heal broken bones.
He looked up at Lori, his eyes alight, and took her hand, setting it gently on Emily’s head.
“Hum,” he directed, standing up and looking towards the next injured person.
“What?” she asked, bewildered.
“Hum,” he repeated. “Like Luke and Leia – try to match their purring frequency.”
And then he took off towards the next person, touching, giving comfort, chanting softly as a shaman would do, leaving Lori humming softly next to her assigned patient.
The minutes passed by in a blur after that. Noel remembered seeing Jeret at one point, bent over a prone teenage boy. He was unconscious and Jeret was pumping frantically at his chest, breathing into his mouth, clearing his air passages, trying again. Noel said a brief prayer for both as he passed on to the next patient slipping into shock at his feet.
Much later, he finally caught sight of Lynta. She was in a more remote area of the triage, Tuft crouched at her side. He realized with a shock the patients she was attending to were those whose faces were covered. They had already died; had been set aside to be picked up by the morgue. She was carefully pulling back their shrouds, placing a hand on either temple, breathing softly into their faces, kissing them gently between the eyes. She moved from body to body, repeating her ritual, easing them back to the sidewalk when she was finished with these bizarre last rites.
And then Noel saw something that caused the blood to drain from his face. Lynta uncovered another of the victims – this one zipped in a body bag – and gently placed her hand under his skull. She lifted his head up and Noel could see her lips were moving as though she were speaking to him. She paused, looked down at the body, and then breathed softly into his face. She waited a moment, looked at him again, moved in to kiss him gently on the brow...and moved back as the man pushed frantically at the body bag he was ensconced in.
Lynta crouched off to the side, Tuft pacing in agitation around them, and then the man was pushing free of the bag, unzipping it frantically and kicking in desperation as though he were trapped in a coffin already. He rolled free of it, got to his hands and knees and said something to Lynta. She nodded in acknowledgement and pointed in the direction he should go. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered off towards the nearest ambulance. Lynta watched him for only a moment and then turned to unzip another body bag.
Chapter 26
When Noel saw a couple of paramedics eyeing them and speaking close together from across the street, he knew it was time to leave.
They were starting to arouse suspicions with their actions – he and Lori had continued to chant and hum softly over the patients who were slipping in to shock to noticeable effect – one person had even remarked how the pain had disappeared in her broken femur – and Jeret had most certainly revived at least two people with his CPR. And Lynta…well, even Noel wasn’t sure what could be said about Lynta’s work that night.
But the media was beginning to arrive and victims and first-aiders alike were starting to watch them a little too speculatively. Time to discreetly pull away before their names were requested or too many questions were asked.
He signalled to Lori and they stood together, their own muscles aching and sore from bending over torn bodies for so long.
“Do you know where Jeret is?” he asked her, looking around.
“I think I saw him down that way,” she pointed. “Do you want me to get him?”
“Yeah – I’ll tell Lynta it’s time to go. If we don’t meet you beforehand, let’s regroup by the car, alright?”
She nodded and faded into the activity surrounding them.
He found Lynta seated on the curb, head hanging in sheer exhaustion. Kneeling beside her, he rested a hand on her knee and tipped his head so he could see her expression.
“You alright?”
She looked up at him; her eyes were bloodshot but clear. “Yes, but….” She trailed off, not knowing what to say.
“That was miraculous work, Lynta,” he offered quietly. “Not natural…but definitely miraculous.”
She looked off to his right, not capable of responding in her fatigue, not acknowledging her part in the night’s activities. She blinked and then tried to focus on him once more. “I didn’t faint this time, did I?” she asked in wonder.
“No. No you didn’t. I think because you were so close to the situation, you could just walk there. There was no need to leave your body behind.”
She laughed softly at the irony of the words, but shook her head and rubbed a long-fingered hand over her face.
“Do you know how many?” Noel asked, not wanting to voice the rest of the question – how many you resurrected?
She shook her head mutely.
“We should go,” he said. “People are starting to wonder, I think. Can you stand?” He reached down and cupped her elbow, bracing for her movement.
