Union

by John Darryl Winston

  “Wordsmith,” Naz spoke quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  “The spectator doors are unlocked, but I can end this now. I think Clature is in his office. Once I open his door and see him, it’s all over.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “No, but we’re running out of time. D’s unconscious.”

  “Your call, but if you’re wrong, we’re gonna have to converge on the pool room in a flash. I have an idea.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Forget about the women’s locker room. I’m gonna send Ham and Soul to the Men’s locker room. That won’t make him suspicious. I’ll have Soul send you a live feed of the door, and you should be able to unlock it. You’ve seen it a bunch of times. When you unlock it, they’ll wait for our cue, and I’ll be on my way to you. If he’s not in that office, he’s in the Natatorium, and we’ll all storm it together.”

  “Hurry.”

  Harvis sent Ham and Soul to the locker room, and in less than a minute Naz was looking at a video feed from Soul of the locker room door leading into the Natatorium.

  Naz flexed, and the door unlocked. What are they doing? D’s captor thought. Naz walked backed to the Clature’s office, flexed, opened the door, and charged in.

  It was empty—why’d he go in there? D’s captor thought.

  Naz looked around. “He’s not in here. Go.”

  “Phase two,” said Harvis as he came sprinting down the hall.

  “We’re in,” said Soul.

  Naz and Harvis burst through the separate spectator doors into the dimly lit Natatorium. There was a stench of mold, mildew, chlorine, and other chemicals. Water was dripping into the giant pool where, barely a foot-high, water covered the bottom. Ham and Soul came from behind the diving board while Naz and Harvis approached from the front. There was something in the middle of the pool, a plastic structure filled with water at its base and a seat on top where D sat slumped over to one side, blindfolded. A gag had fallen down around her neck that had apparently been used to keep her from screaming or crying out—what’s holding her up?

  “D,” Naz ran to the edge of the pool.

  D stirred and then struggled to say, “Naz, is that you?”

  “Careful, D. Don’t move. I’m coming.”

  “I got her, Naz.” Ham jumped in the pool.

  There was a spark, buzz, and a puff of smoke. Ham stood frozen and shaking.

  “Ham!” All three of the boys yelled.

  “Soul! Don’t move.” Harvis held Naz back with his hand. Harvis pointed to the cords running from the water to outlets around the room.

  “Damn,” said Harvis. “Unplug ’em!”

  Naz looked at every cord plugged into the wall outlets, flexed, and snatched them out. Ham fell in the water and didn’t move. Naz flexed again, and the cords flew from the water and landed on the pool deck like wet snakes.

  “Ham.” Soul reached in the pool, grabbed Ham by the arm, and pulled him back onto the deck.

  That’s when the laugh came from the Natatorium speaker system, a synthesized laugh meant to be disguised.

  “Soul, call an ambulance, now!” Harvis ran around the pool and rolled Ham on to his back.

  “It’s over, coward,” yelled Naz as he jumped down in the pool, dirty water splashing around him.

  “Stop,” said the synthesized voice. “You do realize that’s a dunk tank, don’t you?”

  “Wait … Naz, I … I don’t think it’s water under me. It smells really bad.” D struggled to say.

  Naz stopped.

  “Your girlfriend’s a lot smarter than she looks, maybe smarter than you, genius boy. That’s the problem with a dunk tank, the time it takes to hit the target gets boring, but I bet the great Naz Andersen can hit it on the first try.”

  “You’re sick,” Naz said scanning the room.

  “No? I didn’t think so,” said the voice. “I bet it won’t take that pitching machine in back of you long.”

  Naz turned around just in time to see the mechanical arm of a pitching machine hurl a ball directly at the dunk tank’s target. He flexed and redirected the ball, which struck the metal bleachers along the sidewall with a clang.

  “I don’t know how you did that,” said the voice. “But it was pointless. You learn a lot from watching TV; there’s hydrofluoric acid in that tank. Let’s see if it really dissolves bones.”

  The pitching machine launched another ball, and again Naz deflected it.

  “Naz! Go for the glass in the booth. He has to be up there.” Harvis pointed to the Natatorium booth over the bleachers.

  The machine launched another ball, and Naz redirected it, cracking the glass that surrounded the dark booth. Soul was already on his way.

  “Soul! Be careful,” said Naz.

  The next one shattered the glass completely.

  The machine continued launching balls at the dunk tank’s target relentlessly.

  “Nobody’s in here,” Soul yelled down from the booth.

  “Stop it! What do you want?” Naz continued, deflecting ball after ball.

  “I want you to suffer. The way I suffered my whole life hearing about the great Igod and Cornelius Andersen.”

  “How do you know those names?”

  D’s captor laughed—and the great Dr. Guinevere Hornbuckle.

  What does Dr. Gwen have to do with this? “Where are you?!” Naz yelled.

  “Come on, Ham. Come on.” Soul wiped the tears from his face as he came back down from the booth.

  “Naz, unplug it … the machine.” Harvis pointed to the pitching machine in between giving Ham chest compressions.

  Naz moved to the machine. “It’s not plugged in. It must run on batteries.”

  “Then move it,” yelled Harvis.

  “It’s too big.” Naz continued deflecting balls.

  “Remember the giant, Naz. Remember the giant. Just move it a little, and it’ll miss.”

  Naz focused, flexed, and the pitching machine tipped over. All of the yellow dimpled balls fell out and rolled on the pool deck. Some fell in the pool. “How is he?” Naz looked across the pool at Harvis, who was still giving Ham chest compressions.

  Harvis shook his head.

  “Now you’re a murderer,” Naz yelled.

  “Technically … If Ham dies, it’s on your head. You should’ve never brought him into this,” said the voice.

  Technically? And how does he know Ham’s name? Technically.

  “If he dies, you’re a murderer,” Naz yelled.

  Tone swooped in, landed on Naz’s shoulder, and bobbed his head up and down three times.

  “The third floor?”

  Tone bobbed his head again.

  Why the third floor? Technically? Then it hit Naz. “I know who it is!” He would use his newly discovered skill of suggestion to summon D’s captor to the Natatorium. “I got ’im.”

  “Gotta go, Naz,” said the voice. “Good luck explaining all this to the authorities. They’re on their way. Goodnight, my sweet Delilah.”

  “Not so fast.” Naz put his arm out toward D and focused.

  The target engaged by some remote process, releasing the chair that held D, only she didn’t fall. She rose from the chair and floated in the air to Naz. He continued reaching out to her, directing her until she landed softly in his arms. He opened his eyes.

  “You came for me,” D managed to say.

  “I told you … a thousand times…”

  “You did. You look so tired.”

  “I’m fine.”

  D fainted.

  “Is she Ok?” Harvis sat next to Soul while Soul gave Ham chest compressions.

  “I think so.” Naz was afraid to ask about Ham’s condition.

  Two minutes later John walked through the spectator doors, looking confused. “H-How’d I get in here? I—”

  “Save it for the authorities,” Naz said, making it so John couldn’t talk. “And have a seat while you’re at it. Now we’re even.”

&nb
sp; John sat down on the pool deck and crossed his legs. He picked up one of the balls from the pitching machine and held it in his lap.

  “Soul, get over here!”

  “But Ham,” said Soul.

  “I got Ham! Harvis come get her. Hurry!” Naz looked at D in his arms.

  Soul stopped working on Ham. He and Harvis sprinted around the pool to Naz.

  Naz handed D to Harvis.

  “Is she OK?” asked Harvis.

  Naz nodded. John sat on the floor in a daze, still holding one of the dimpled balls.

  Soul stood, shaking his head. “Tin Man, how did you—”

  “Soul, not now. I’ll explain later. But If he moves,” Naz pointed to John, “become the Animal.”

  “With pleasure,” growled Soul.

  Naz sprinted back to Ham and kneeled next to him. He closed his eyes, put his arms out, palms up, and focused. He had revived Meri this way before under similar circumstances, and he hoped he could do it now to save Ham’s life. While he imagined the life force flowing through Ham’s veins, he heard Ham.

  Naz!

  Ham?

  Did we save her?

  You saved her, Ham.

  I did?

  You saved us all, and now you need to fight.

  But our job is done.

  No, it’s not! It’s not over yet. Remember what you taught me; You taught me to fight … fight back!

  Remember what you taught me, Naz?

  What’s that, Ham?

  You taught me to walk away.

  But not yet, Ham. I need you to fight with that Mayan pride.

  Naz … I didn’t mean to hurt Meri.

  I know you didn’t. It wasn’t your fault.

  Then, there was nothing. Naz rocked back and forth on his haunches.

  Ham!

  Thank you, Naz.

  Ham, fight!

  See you on the other side, Naz.

  When Naz opened his eyes, tears streamed down his face. But he wasn’t sad, and he didn’t understand why. He was beginning to understand what Harvis may have meant.

  Three months had passed since Naz, Harvis, Soul, and Ham had saved D. Naz had only been on the courthouse steps once before, during Ham’s trial, when he had left the courthouse on his own accord. Unlike Ham’s trial, he wanted to hear everything and see John get his just deserts for what he had done to D and Ham. Unfortunately, today he was barred from the court and John’s trial due to extenuating circumstances; the court had issued a temporary restraining order against Dr. Gwen being around Naz as well as a suspension on her practicing child and adolescent psychiatry pending the recommendation of a national review board.

  So Harvis and Naz switched roles in a sense, and Harvis became Naz’s eyes and ears as Naz milled around outside. Harvis was the first one out of court.

  “Well.” Naz stood almost at attention looking up, waiting for the verdict.

  “First we’re bullies and now truant,” said Harvis.

  “Nobody cares; it’s only one more week of school left. What happened?” asked Naz.

  “Pretty much what we expected. John was eavesdropping the day D dumped you, and you came to Dr. Gwen crying for advice.”

  “Crying?”

  “Whatever he heard made him decide not to go to Australia at the last minute, and only Dr. Gwen knew about it. But she thought he had told the school and was going there every day. As expected, John didn’t testify, but if he heard you talking to Dr. Gwen that day, he knew you two were fighting and probably decided to try something with D. When it didn’t work, I guess he lost it.”

  “Yeah, she told me she checked him for touching her chin that day in the hallway, and he seemed OK. Then he asked her out the day I went to Dr. Gwen for advice … and I wasn’t crying. She told him no, and that I was still her boyfriend.” Naz smiled. “But we had no idea he was capable of something like that … never even suspected ’im. What else?”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t already know about your abilities.”

  “Maybe he did, and he just didn’t believe it.”

  “Makes sense. Well, he believes now. The psychologist said John went on and on about you making D fly and possessing his mind.”

  “Really?”

  “And I guess Dr. Gwen thought it was better to keep your secret than let on that what John was saying could actually be true about your superpowers—”

  “Wait … superpowers?”

  “Anyway, it ended up actually helping John’s case, confirming he really had gone off the deep end. Supposedly he’d been planning something like this for years, the psychologist said. They speculated that you coming to live with them and D adding to the mix somehow made things reach a psychological tipping point.”

  “So what’d he get?”

  “Well, he was charged with kidnapping, intent to do bodily harm, involuntary manslaughter, and a few other things. He accepted a plea deal. They’re sending him upstate to juvie with a shrink.”

  “Shrink? For how long?”

  “At least until he’s eighteen. And Dr. Gwen … she must’ve had it bad for your old man. Hear the psychologist tell it, that’s all she ever talked about around John, even gave him one of your dad’s names. I mean we’re talkin’ major stalker proportions here. They said—”

  Naz tapped Harvis on the chest with the back of his hand and then alerted him with a head gesture to turn around. Dr. Gwen was coming out of the courthouse flanked by a man and woman in suits that must’ve been lawyers. There were more people before and after them, and Naz caught Dr. Gwen’s eye as she reached the bottom of the stairs. A black car had pulled up. While Dr. Gwen waited on the women to open the car door for her, she smiled and nodded at Naz. Naz returned her smile. He harbored no ill will toward her. He had realized long ago that their sessions were more about Cory than him, although he didn’t know to what extent. Finding out more about Cory was of mutual benefit to them. He hadn’t talked to her since the day she had left for Australia, and he missed her. She got in the car, and he watched it disappear down the street in the busy downtown traffic.

  “You Ok?” asked Harvis.

  “Yeah.”

  They walked down the street. Harvis handed Naz a white envelope.

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll find out when you open it tomorrow. It’s from me and Soul.”

  “Should I be afraid? Me and white envelopes don’t get along.”

  “Nothing like that.” Harvis laughed.

  “Why didn’t you wait until tomorrow to give it to me?” Naz put the envelope in his back pocket.

  “You know I won’t see you tomorrow.”

  “I thought about something you said … about Meri.” Naz reached up with both hands behind his neck and unclasped the rope that held the key around his neck.

  “What?” asked Harvis.

  “That she had to die.” Naz looked at the key.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “No, but it’s true. We all have to die, but is that so bad?” He put the rope and key in his pocket.

  Harvis shrugged. “Kind of dark, don’t ya think, Tin Man?”

  “Yeah, but it’s true, and daylight always follows, right?”

  “Right. No more key, huh? I guess that must mean our work here is done.”

  “To the contrary, Wordsmith. It’s just begun.”

  “That’s what I wanna, hear.” Harvis nodded. “And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

  “Me either.”

  THE NEXT DAY Naz looked out the window as he rode the Helix downtown to the festival. He thought of Ham. Ham had unknowingly helped cause Meri’s death by his irresponsible actions, but his bravery and loyalty had saved Naz’s and D’s lives. And for that Naz was grateful. He never got a chance to tell Ham he forgave him. He didn’t have to. They were family. And like two crazy brothers, they just knew.

  D had spent three days in the hospital, suffering from severe malnutrition, extreme exhaustion, and sleep deprivation. John had only given her w
ater for the six days he held her captive and refused her sleep, especially when he heard her utter Naz’s name.

  Someone from the mayor’s office presented Naz, Soul, and Harvis with commendations in front of the entire Union student body for finding D, and they joined Fears, having made their debut on the evening news and in the Marshal Park Observer. Fears wasn’t happy about the boys taking matters into their own hands, but also conceded they were young men now, ready to make their own decisions and accept the consequences of their actions.

  D’s mother invited Naz over for dinner and to Naz’s surprise, Darla made a special appearance. Naz never mentioned Roffio to D or Darla. He couldn’t imagine in any corner of his conscious mind how that conversation would play out in the positive, so he kept it buried deep within. D’s father hadn’t touched a drink since the Day Naz had stopped him from hitting D, and Naz could tell when he summoned his thoughts he had no intention of going down that road again.

  Naz had promised D never to read her mind again, and she just smiled. Naz believed D knew he would do his best, but that there would inevitably come a time when he would summon her thoughts again for one reason or another, and she seemed OK with that. She trusted him.

  For three months all was quiet. With the exception of a severely sprained ankle at one of Fears’ open gym sessions courtesy of a wicked crossover by Pharaoh, life had gotten pretty boring for Naz, and he appreciated the change of pace.

  D grabbed Naz’s hand and squeezed it.

  He turned his attention from outside the train window to her. “You’re going to get me expelled for truancy yet. This makes two days in a row.”

  “I had nothing to do with yesterday. Live a little. How often do you have a birthday?”

  “Hmmm … once every year for fifteen years now.”

  “Besides, you’re like Teflon at Union, the Dreadnaught’s guardian angel. They’re never getting rid of you or Harvis. Is Soul still trying to get you to fly?” D laughed and then pushed her glasses up on her nose.

  “Yeah, or make him fly.” He mocked her pushing her glasses up. “That trip is for you only.”

  She tutted, and he kissed her on the cheek.

  “I still don’t remember you making me fly. That’s not exactly what I meant by sweeping me off my feet.”