The Lost Tayamu

by Ben Cass

  ELLIE Aston climbed out of her friend Maddie’s car, holding her umbrella over her head. The rain was really coming down now, and while she would have preferred to sit in the car and see if it would let up soon, she knew it probably wouldn’t.

  She and Maddie hurried across the parking lot, where deep puddles already waited to ambush them as they splashed across the asphalt. Ellie managed to avoid them all, and had to pull Maddie clear of a couple.

  They hurried through the gates that gave them access to the campus and then headed for the east wing. Because of the weather, the buildings were already unlocked to allow students to take refuge inside, and Ellie and Maddie slipped inside, seeing students already lining the hallways, sitting on the floor. Some were finishing homework or studying, others were on their phones, and a few looked like they were grabbing a few more minutes of precious sleep.

  Ellie sympathized with those poor tired souls. She felt exhausted; her course load was rough this year. “Why are all the hard courses saved until eleventh grade?” she muttered, thinking aloud.

  “Because we’re too immature before then,” Maddie replied, brushing her hair back. The beads clacked against each other, momentarily distracting Ellie, who’d always found Maddie’s hairstyles fascinating. She’d known Maddie for a couple of years before Ellie had realized Maddie’s hair was actually fairly short, and she just wore extensions all the time. Today, she had a wound-up bit on top that reminded Ellie of an ice cream cone; the tan beads against the black hair looked like caramel drops on chocolate ice cream. The hair on the back of Maddie’s head hung down past her shoulders. “If they were earlier, we’d rebel.”

  Ellie shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.” She pointed to an empty spot along the wall, and they sat down, slipping their bags off. Ellie fluffed her mostly-blonde hair, which had been darkening as she aged. She still wasn’t sure she was okay with that, but wasn’t about to go pay money to change her hair color.

  Ellie was not a morning person, so Maddie carried the conversation, talking about the latest single from some boy band she was obsessed with. Ellie, who thought the band sounded only slightly better than a large group of caterwauling felines, wasn’t really listening to her. When lightning flashed through the hallway windows and the sharp crack of thunder rang through the air, Maddie yelped and started. Water lashed the windows, the droplets sounding like small rocks striking the glass.

  Ellie didn’t laugh at Maddie’s reaction; her friend was scared of storms, and she didn’t see any reason to make light of her fear. “Glad we came inside,” she said. “I’m so glad they’re willing to have the hallways open with weather like this.” Maddie nodded in agreement, her hand still on her chest. Ellie reached out and patted Maddie’s knee, not saying anything.

  “I wonder what marvelous story Packard has for us this morning?” Maddie asked, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from the storm. “Chemistry is bad enough without his little commentary on random news items.” She gently smoothed down her shirt, checking for wrinkles.

  Ellie laughed softly. “I asked Jen about him. She said he did the same thing back when she was here.”

  Maddie sighed. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find out nothing newsworthy happened in the past seven hours.” They exchanged glances and burst out laughing.

  “We’re not that lucky,” Ellie replied, still smiling. They sat and talked for a while, discussing some books they’d read recently, debating what to do that weekend, and quietly giggling from time to time over random things.

  As Ellie twisted and reached for her water bottle, a sudden spasm gripped her abdomen. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and leaned forward, involuntarily groaning in pain. Maddie grabbed her arm.

  “Are you okay, Ellie?” she asked, worry in her voice.

  The pain left as quickly as it had come. Ellie waited a second or two before cautiously straightening. “I think so. Bad cramp.”

  Maddie nodded, grimacing. “I hate that time of the month.”

  “Yeah...but this isn’t it.” Ellie was puzzled. Was she coming down with something? Or had it just been one of those random “your body doesn’t like the position you’re in” cramps? Oh, please don’t let me have a stomach virus.

  Another one hit and she doubled over again. Definitely a cramp. She didn’t feel nauseous, which was a blessing. Ellie could deal with most anything except throwing up.

  Again, it left without warning. “I might need to call my sister,” she said, gulping in pain. “If this keeps going, I can’t deal with it.” Maddie rubbed her back, looking concerned. The pain suddenly vanished as quickly as it had come. Ellie waited a few minutes, but nothing else happened.

  “Man, that is so weird!” she said to Maddie.

  The doors leading to the front office banged open, the metal slamming into the concrete wall, the sound making them jump. Maddie looked down the hallway. “Hey, this will make you feel better,” she whispered. “It’s Coach Doyle. And...omigod, he’s soaking wet!” She sighed. “Best morning ever.”

  All memory of the weird cramps fled, replaced by a warm tingling sensation. Coach Doyle had started there a week or so earlier, replacing Coach Madsen, who had moved back home. Doyle said he was just a short-term substitute, but everybody was hoping he stayed longer. Some wanted him to stay because they wanted to be like him, and some wanted him to stay because they wanted to look at him. No matter the reason, everybody agreed he was awesome. After only a few days, he was already one of the most-liked faculty members. His quirky sense of humor endeared him to just above everybody, and he oozed confidence and, in Ellie’s private opinion, just the right amount of machismo. Ellie looked up, following Maddie’s adoring gaze. Doyle stood in the open doorway, about fifty feet away from the girls, his eyes searching the hallway for something.

  Both girls watched him, admiring the view. They still couldn’t get over his height, but had no trouble at all with his build. Muscular but not hulking, he made most of the guys in school jealous. The vicious scar on his face, going from his right eye down past his jawline, was the subject of many, many rumors; everybody wanted to know how he’d gotten it, but nobody was brave enough to ask, so they just shared theories, each one more ridiculous than the last. The most recent one proposed that he had gotten it while wrestling a great white shark.

  As Maddie had said, even though he’d come through the office, he was soaking wet. His shirt clung tightly to his chest, outlining his muscles. “You know, storms might have some redeeming qualities after all,” Maddie said quietly, elbowing Ellie. “I could get used to this.”

  “Testify, sister,” Ellie said, holding her hand out. Maddie subtly low-fived it as Doyle’s eyes locked onto Ellie.

  “Elowyn Aston!” As much as Ellie hated her first name, it sounded so beautiful in his voice. She could listen to him say it forever. Hold on....did he just call my name?

  “Sir?” she asked. She was proud her voice didn’t squeak. Doyle walked over to them, his long legs covering the distance in a matter of seconds, water dripping from him onto the tile floor.

  He stopped in front of them, studying her. “Get your things. You’re coming with me.” She stared at him, her mind not processing what he was saying. Doyle’s eyes narrowed. “Now, Elowyn.”

  His voice cracked like a whip. Ellie half-expected to see the wall next to her break apart from the sound wave. She fought the urge to check the bricks for damage, and was standing before she knew it, her bag in her hand. People in the hall were staring, Maddie amongst them. Doyle took her arm and started towing her along, not slowing his pace. Maddie started to follow, but a quick glance from the coach stopped her.

  He spoke in hurried, hushed tones. “The office agreed to let me go with you. The police have a car waiting out front. I’ll get changed and then join you.”

  “Go where? With the police? What’s wrong?” Ellie was starting to get a little freaked out. His next sentence made her heart drop.

  “Your sister was mugged a little while ago
. I’m taking you to see her.”

  Ellie swallowed, trying to contain the panic that threatened to leap up her throat and choke her. “Is...is she hurt?” She heard her voice crack with fear. Doyle must have heard it too, because he suddenly stopped walking.

  He turned to face her, taking her shoulders. His voice was now calm and soothing. “She’s fine. She’s a little shaken up and will have some bruises from hitting the wall. She might wind up with a black eye, but she’s okay otherwise. The paramedics already cleared her.”

  Ellie took a deep breath, trying to get herself under control. The coach’s voice was deep and soothing, almost hypnotic. “You’re sure?”

  He smiled down at her reassuringly. “I happened to be passing by. I...discouraged...her muggers. Trust me: I’m sure.”

  Something about the way he said it made her raise an eyebrow and ask, “You mean you beat the living shit out of them, don’t you?”

  He shrugged, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. “Come on.” He wrapped an arm around her and led her out of the building.

  Chapter Two

  The sheriff’s car pulled up to the television station. Ellie looked over at Doyle, who had been silent since leaving school. He looked cramped and uncomfortable in the squad car; no surprise, given his size. If he’d changed clothes, she couldn’t tell. He was wearing the exact same shirt and shorts, except they were dry. His elbow rested against the window, his thumb against his temple while his other fingers spidered across his forehead, tapping against it in what looked like frustration. “Why are we here?” she asked, confused. “Shouldn’t we be at the hospital?”

  “You would think so, wouldn’t you? Apparently, your sister demanded to be taken here. She refused the hospital.” Doyle lifted four fingers straight up, his thumb still on his temple, and made a half-grimace. Ellie rolled her eyes.

  “Jen is extraordinarily stubborn,” she told him.

  The officer stepped out and opened the door for them, holding an umbrella over her head; the rain was just a light sprinkle now, but Ellie appreciated the gesture.

  “Thanks, Sam,” Ellie said, climbing out of the vehicle. Doyle, who was exiting out of the other door, paused in the rain, his hands resting on top of the car.

  “You and your sister are both on a first-name basis with the police officers?” he inquired. Ellie shrugged.

  Sam chuckled. “Mr. Doyle, this is Groverton. I’ve known Ellie here since she was born. Used to babysit her, as a matter of fact. Only about ten officers here altogether, and we’re all one big family in this town. Stick around long enough and you’ll see what I mean.”

  Doyle raised an eyebrow as he walked around the car. “Fascinating. Very different from home.” He offered an elbow to Ellie. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go see your sister.”

  Sam led them inside to the conference room. Ellie looked through the windows and saw Jen sitting there talking with her producer, Stan, and Sheriff Dave Bellsley, who was writing things down in a small notebook. Ellie broke away from Doyle and ran into the room. Jen saw her coming and leaped out of the chair to catch her sister.

  “I’ll give you a moment,” the sheriff said, leading Stan out of the room. Ellie watched them join Coach Doyle outside, and saw the sheriff frown as he started talking to Doyle; Bellsley didn’t look particularly happy to see Doyle, but Ellie didn’t think he ever looked happy to see anybody under these circumstances. She quickly turned her attention away from them and back to her sister, who was squeezing her tightly.

  “I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” Jen murmured softly. A lump formed in Ellie’s throat, but she forced it down.

  Ellie finally pulled away, wiping tears away. Jen looked behind her sister, and her eyes widened.

  “It’s him!” she exclaimed. Ellie turned around to see her staring at Coach Doyle through the window. He must have realized he was being watched, because his head turned, and as his gaze met Jen’s, his expression reminded Ellie of a deer caught in headlights.

  A guilty deer, even, if such a thing existed.

  While Ellie pondered this reaction, Jen pushed past her out of the room. She threw herself into Doyle’s arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, squeezing as hard as she could. Ellie could see Jen’s biceps tightening, and momentarily hoped she wouldn’t hurt the coach, before realizing he probably barely even felt it.

  Doyle hesitantly put his arms around Jen, the expression on his face quickly changing to a neutral one; he might have been happy or upset with this sudden turn of events. It was hard to read him right now. Ellie stepped out of the room, watching curiously.

  “You’re welcome,” he said simply. Jen separated from him and held out her hand.

  “We haven’t been properly introduced. Jen Aston.”

  “Yes, I know,” he replied. “I’ve watched the news. Best anchor I’ve seen in years. I’m sure the local televisions appreciate it.” A quick wink of Doyle’s eye brought a faint blush to Jen’s cheeks.

  Well, he’s definitely smooth, thought Ellie. Points for him.

  He shook Jen’s hand normally, not treating her like a piece of glass. “I’m Doyle. Pleased to see you again, although you really have to stop running into me.” He rubbed his rib cage.

  Jen laughed; apparently there was some kind of joke there. Ellie hoped she wouldn’t connect the name, but as soon as that thought entered her mind, Ellie saw recognition dawn on her stepsister’s face.

  “Wait... Doyle? Coach Doyle? You took over for Coach Madsen, right?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, actually. How did you know?”

  Jen glanced at Ellie and Ellie saw the wicked gleam in her eye. Oh, god. Nonononono....please, don’t do it. Ellie tried her best to send psychic vibes of discouragement.

  The vibes must have worked. Jen looked back at Doyle and shrugged. “This is Groverton. News travels very, very quickly. I happened to hear some of Ellie’s friends talking about you yesterday while I was grocery shopping. You do have quite the effect on the young ladies, don’t you, Mr. Doyle?” Jen looked up at him and tilted her head sideways, a smile on her lips.

  Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank...hold on. Ellie scratched her head. Is she flirting? Has Hell frozen over? It must have; Jen didn’t flirt.

  Ever.

  Doyle shrugged. “It’s more a nuisance than anything. And please, just call me Doyle. I hate being called ‘Mr.’ by people my own age.” He flashed even, white teeth in another quick smile; the scar on his face gave his expression a sinister cast, completely at odds with his personality. “I also loathe my first name, hence the use of my last name.”

  “Hence?” Jen rolled her eyes. “You sound like a theoretical mathematician writing a proof.”

  He chuckled softly. “Fine. Therefore, I use my last name. Is that better?” Doyle paused a moment, his eyes examining the two sisters. Ellie had the momentary sensation of her soul being x-rayed. His mouth turned slightly downward. “Huh. I don’t see the family resemblance. I’m usually good at things like that.”

  “Oh, that’s because we’re not related. I was adopted,” Jen explained.

  “Ah.” His voice didn’t indicate any further interest, but Jen clearly decided to elaborate. She reached back and pulled Ellie close, wrapping an arm around her, hugging her.

  “Ellie’s parents took me in when she was only four and I was sixteen,” Jen started, but Ellie quickly interrupted her.

  “Instead of the kitchen I wanted for my birthday, I got an older sibling,” Ellie said, grinning. “Still think I got robbed.”

  Jen shoved Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie, you asked for an actual kitchen. I was much cheaper and easier.”

  Ellie opened her mouth and then quickly closed it. “Too easy,” she said. “I’ll give you that one for free.” A quick smile tugged at the corner of the coach’s mouth, making Ellie feel all warm and tingly inside, even though Jen was glaring at her. “Anyway, as Jen was saying before rudely shoving me, from that point on, we were r
aised as if we were really sisters.” She looked up at Jen and smiled. “All kidding aside, we slipped right into the roles. It was like we’d been family forever.”

  Jen hugged Ellie. “Truthfully,” she said, “we both forget we’re not biologically related. We usually refer to ourselves as sisters, not stepsisters.”

  Doyle raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you technically be adopted sisters, not stepsisters?”

  Jen nodded. “True, but Ellie called me that the first time she was told I was being adopted, and it just stuck. Besides, we like to say we stepped into being sisters.”

  “Interesting logic,” Doyle replied.

  “I only call her my stepsister when she’s annoying me,” Ellie replied easily. “So...pretty much every time a guy calls me or I go out with my friends or when she tries to cook but burns the food again or...” She cut off when Jen punched her shoulder.

  “I think being biologically related is sometimes highly overrated,” replied Doyle, grinning. “If you feel like sisters, then you are sisters.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I should probably get going; I have students to torment.” He shook Jen’s hand again and winked at Ellie. “I’m assuming you’ll be skipping my class today.”

  “Mr. Doyle?” Sheriff Bellsley said. Doyle glanced over at him, eyebrow raised.

  “Sheriff?”

  Bellsley gave him a long, considering stare. “Before you go, I don’t suppose you’ll reconsider telling me exactly how you faced down three well-armed muggers and beat the hell out of them in a matter of seconds, will you?” To Ellie’s ear, Bellsley’s voice sounded resigned; clearly, this had already been asked and answered—or not answered, as the case may be.

  Doyle smiled. “As I’ve told both you and your deputy, I must have gotten lucky.” He gave a slight bow and backed out of the room.