When they got home, Miss Tracey scolded Naz for forgetting the key she had left for him on the kitchen table. She told him she had reminded him the night before she would be working late sometimes during the holiday season, and the key would be on the table in the morning. She directed him to the kitchen table, and sure enough, the key was there. She was lying—but why? He didn’t question her, and he didn’t tell Meri because he knew Meri wouldn’t have let it go—like Coach said, I need to think all of this through. His head spun around in answerless circles as he lay in bed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SEASON
It was the day before Thanksgiving, a half-day of school. Meri’s birthday had come and gone. To Naz, every birthday seemed like Meri grew two years older, which made her seem more like twenty than ten. He liked to call them Meri years. She wanted to stay up an hour later on school nights. He negotiated down to thirty minutes. Miss Tracey didn’t care how late Naz or Meri stayed up on any night, although she pretended she did at times. Meri also wanted a bigger cut from their runs, which he didn’t mind giving her. He spent most of his money on her anyway. But he hadn’t let her run any errands with him since the incident with Roffio’s gang. She begrudgingly took the school bus after school, which dropped her off less than a block from MeeChi’s. She did her homework there and helped out Mr. Tesla until Naz was done with basketball practice and his errands.
Things had gotten pretty much back to normal. Naz decided to turn in his detective license and leave well enough alone. He believed things would work themselves out. Dill’s two black eyes from three weeks earlier were still a light hue of purple and Denali had turned in the sling for his arm the week before. Everyone knew what had happened even though no one knew who told, and Dill and Denali kept their distance, which was fine with Naz. In fact, Dill and Denali weren’t causing much trouble on any level, and students and teachers alike showed their gratitude to Naz in subtle ways, even if the change would be short-lived.
In science class, Naz would have a free day. For the last two hours it was social studies then health, or for two dollars he could watch the movie being shown in the auditorium. In science, Naz took the opportunity to ask his lab partner about the day he had knocked the test tube off their workbench. She was shy and clearly smitten with him and hadn’t said a word to him before or since.
“Piper.” It was the first time he ever called her by name.
She didn’t respond, and he wasn’t sure if she didn’t hear him or if she was ignoring him.
“Piper.”
“Uh-huh.” She kept sketching the picture she was working on.
“Do you remember that day I broke the test tube?”
She nodded.
“You asked me how I did it. Did what?”
She shrugged.
“Is that the Taj Mahal?” He looked at the drawing she was working on.
“Yes.” She finally looked up at him. “H-how’d you know?”
“What else would it be? It looks just like it.”
She looked at the drawing and smiled. She put her pencil on the workbench and rolled it back and forth under her palm. “You were leaning your head on your arm. I guess you had fallen asleep, and your pencil was going back and forth like this, only … your hand wasn’t on top of it; it was moving all by itself.”
“Are you sure?”
“No … I mean, almost. Then the pencil started breaking into little pieces. I couldn’t see your other hand, so I looked under the table to see if you had a magnet or something.” She looked back down at her drawing.
“Piper.”
She looked at him again.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“Thanks … for what?”
“For what you said about my drawing,”
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
She went back to drawing with a smile on her face, her cheeks going red.
Later that hour, when Naz thought no one was looking he tried to move the pencil without touching it. He couldn’t.
The Railsplitters won their last six games of the regular season in lackluster fashion and would go into the playoffs undefeated. Whenever the games were close the Railsplitters unleashed Ham on their weary opponents to seal the victory. But the team could not count on Ham alone to accomplish the lofty goal of championship.
Naz still hadn’t called D. It was more than just being scared, he rationalized. What would they talk about? Where would they go? How would they get there, and what would they do when they did? They were barely teenagers. But he was more than OK with the idea of having her as his text-buddy. By annoying his teachers and taking bathroom breaks once a day in every class, he had managed to run into her twice in the hallway. The first time, they walked and talked about the chances they would have classes together the next semester and what high school would be like the next year. The next time, they just walked and no words were said, and Naz thought about his dream. She seemed unusually comfortable with the tranquil silence, and it made Naz all the more content to be in her presence, if just for a few minutes.
He could never look at her long when she looked back at him; her eyes were such a distraction that he tried not to look in them any longer than courtesy absolutely demanded. As they passed the empty music room, Naz remembered his trip to the suburbs with Meri to take the test for International Academy, when he learned of some of the things he could do and his burning desire to see if he could play the piano. But that wasn’t important to him right now and would have to wait until another day. Although, he thought if he could play, he would serenade her with song and surely win her heart for good, if he hadn’t already.
Toward the end of science class he received a text from D.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
DATE
R u goin 2 da movie
He sent:
Don’t know U?
She sent:
Lol…
So cryptic, Naz smiled. She is a lot of fun. I’ll give her that. Naz hadn’t thought about going to the movie, but it was a good idea; it could be their first date. Just the thought made his heart thud, stutter, and then pick up in triple time. It was either go to the movie or go to social studies then Fears’ class, where Naz was sure there would be more of the same: free time. Naz wasn’t really into movies, especially the old movie they’d probably show in the auditorium, but it was only two dollars. So Naz considered it a possible date, a chance to be with D for two hours straight.
When the bell rang, he decided he would ask her out on their first date, by text, of course, but he never got the chance. When he exited the class, Ham, Milton and the rest of the team were waiting for him.
“What’s up, Railsplitters,” Naz enthused. It was good to see the team outside of practice and games. It felt like family: something he had been missing. It had been a while since somebody had his back. Fears was right; they did look out for each other.
“The Bat Man,” returned Ham melodramatically.
They were showing one of the old Batman films in the auditorium, and the Railsplitters would crash the party as a team.
“Where’s Soul and Harvis?” asked Naz.
“They’ll be there. They had to pick up something,” said Milton.
“And reserve seats,” added Ham.
“Reserve seats … in the auditorium?” Naz laughed.
“You’ll see,” Ham assured.
Naz was ambivalent. He couldn’t think of anybody else he’d rather see a movie with than his teammates, except D and maybe Meri, but he couldn’t let his team down. They had just won their division the night before and this was a celebration of sorts. He would have another chance with D. He was definitely starting to believe things would ultimately work themselves out.
When the team got to the auditorium they went past the line at the door and straight down the center aisle. Naz tried to hand the girl at the door two dollars, but she wouldn’t take it. She just winked, smiled, and nodded
for him to proceed. He shrugged and moved on. As the team walked down the aisle, students stood, clapped, and chanted “Railsplitters, Railsplitters, Railsplitters.” Toward the front of the auditorium was a row with only one person sitting in it. It was Harvis, and he stood up when the team reached his row and shook every player’s hand as they filed in. Naz was the last, and he shook Harvis’ hand and sat in the seat next to him.
“That seat’s taken, Superman,” said Harvis as Naz sat down.
“Oh.” Naz looked down the row they were in to find several seats still empty. Then there were whistles and more clapping as he turned around to see Soul coming down the center aisle along with four girls, including D. Harvis motioned for Naz to move over as he stood up to shake Soul’s hand and let Soul, D and the other three girls file in. The three other girls sat next to Soul, Harvis, and Ham, while D sat next to Naz.
“You know, I was just about to invite you,” Naz admitted to D, shamefaced.
“When, during the closing credits?” She laughed.
“Hey, Tin Man, I figured you might not get a chance to see Oz the Great and Powerful today, so I figured I’d help you out. We look out for each other right?” Soul joked three seats down.
“Right,” Naz agreed sheepishly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked D.
“Uh … inside joke,” answered Naz, embarrassed.
“Guys.” D shook her head.
“Do you always wear glasses?” asked Naz, looking to change the subject.
“Only when I need to see.”
“Do you ever take ’em off?”
“Not even when I sleep; wouldn’t want to get caught in a dream without ’em.” She smiled.
Naz smiled as a vision of D sleeping flashed through his mind. There was something different about her today. A few tendrils had gotten loose from the natural order of her hair, right around her temples, making her look even more resplendent.
The school auditorium went dark, causing the students to clap and whistle. The opening credits began rolling on the large movie screen, lighting the auditorium so that the few students still in the aisles could find their seats in the darkness. She leaned so close to him that he wasn’t sure he could pay attention to the movie. He sensed her watching him as he fiddled with the key that dangled from his neck.
The movie wasn’t at all what he expected, some cartoonish cinema, but dark and gritty with a stark sense of reality woven into it. Naz had never been a fan of superheroes or comic books; that would have required reading. His thoughts of the cartoon hero caused him to tut, and she shot him a glance. The main character reminded Naz of himself, having lost both his mother and father.
He put his forearm on the armrest between them. During one romantic verbal exchange between the hero and heroine, she put her hand lightly on top of his. Their hands intertwined unconsciously, and he was distracted from the spectacle on the screen. He suppressed a smile.
After the movie they walked up the aisle still hand-in-hand. He resolved that he would not let her hand go. She would have to be the first to release. She traced her fingers lightly up his palm to his forearm then linked their elbows. She was so lithe in her movements, while he was barely able to keep his balance.
It was unusually warm for late November, and all the students congregated outside the school, waiting on their rides or the bus. Naz stood content with her on his arm. Without permission his free hand reached up, and his fingers began to trace the grooves and markings on the key dangling from his neck, and again she took notice.
“Did you like it?” she asked.
“I did, surprisingly. I thought it would be cartoonish. You?”
“Yeah, especially how it ended … with the hero, not getting the girl.”
“Doesn’t the hero always get the girl?”
“Exactly, it’s so cliché.”
“Well, he did save her life … twice.”
“But she didn’t ask him to. As a lawyer, she was willing to fight injustice without a mask, risking her life in the process. He wasn’t. He was a highly skilled ninja hiding in the shadows. What risk was he taking?”
He was stumped; she had a point. But the hero was good lookin’. He had a lot of money. He could fight. How could the hero not get the girl? He looked over to find Harvis, Soul, and Ham had suspended their conversation waiting for him to answer, but he couldn’t say something so stupid.
Before he could answer she continued. “I mean, I’m not saying he’s not a hero, but she’s no less a hero … or shero,” she finished with an enchanting smile.
Whether she was aiming for it or not, her voice was alluring, and it was a challenge for Naz to concentrate on the content of her words over the character of her voice.
Regaining his composure and remembering a line from the movie he said, “The mask was to protect those he cared about from reprisal.”
“Admirable … but also convenient, selfish, and selective,” she countered. “True heroes care about all, not just the favored few … and he had a Messiah Complex …”
There was a brief pause. Although Naz had heard of the term, he wasn’t exactly sure what it meant.
“… the belief that he was destined to be a savior … again, cliché,” she finished.
“I know what it means,” Naz lied. As he searched for new ammunition, he was starting to understand more how some people saw the world in black and white and others in shades of gray. Had his mother created a Messiah Complex in him toward the favored few … or one: Meri? He would never look at heroes or superheroes the same way again.
A car horn broke the silence.
She turned to him with her arm still linked to his and took notice of, for the third time, the key dangling from his neck. She reached up to touch it, and he mentally recoiled, but stood strong. She took it ever so gently between her fingers and twirled it a bit. “You have a diary?”
“No!” Naz answered a bit too quickly.
“Sorry … journal,” she amended. “Well … why do you have this?” She continued spinning the key as her face got closer to his.
“S-Somebody gave it to me.” He took in her scent and staggered back a bit, losing his balance again. He could hear Soul chuckling through his haziness.
“Without the di … I mean journal? And a nice journal, by the look of this key, I might add.” She leaned in closer to him to the point where the tip of her nose and lips brushed his cheek gently and he imagined time standing still, frozen in the moment.
At that moment, car horns and alarms started blaring out on the street in front of them. D and Naz turned to see every car stalled in the street and traffic stopped. Not a car moved as students and bystanders alike stood in awe and gawked at the predicament. Soul pulled out his phone to videotape the spectacle.
“Now there’s somethin’ you don’t see every day,” she said in a soft voice.
“Yeah,” Naz said under his breath. Only he wasn’t referring to the gridlock in front of them.
“You OK?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath and shook his head as if to come to his senses. Cars began to move on the street again.
“Text me later.” She released him, ran to a waiting car, and waved goodbye as she jumped in and it pulled away.
Naz had forgotten how to exhale. He had to look away to recall the process. He was surprised that she seemed to like him so entirely.
Soul cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Good luck with that one, Tin Man. Personally, I liked the Bat Man.”
“DC comics suck,” challenged Ham “Superman included. They’re not willing to do what’s necessary. Innocent people die because they like to play nice.”
“That’s not true,” defended Harvis. “The point is, to try and preserve all life at any cost.”
“It’s all about Marvel and the Avengers. They’re feared because they don’t mind making the tough choices,” Ham shot back.
“Yeah, but who gets to decide who makes those choices?” Naz
weighed in.
Then it was Soul’s turn. “Well, I’m an X-Man myself, Wolverine to be exact, a hero’s universe with all lines of morality blurred. No more … what did your girlfriend say … Messiah Complex?”
“She’s not my—“
“Wolverine?” Ham, interrupted laughing. “The Hulk would smash Wolverine.”
“Speaking of the Hulk, I thought after you got your grades you were gonna dump Bruce Banner?” jabbed Soul.
The three other boys erupted in laughter and it was jokes all the way to MeeChi’s, where Naz would introduce his teammates to Mr. Tesla.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
INCUBUS APOSTLE
A block from MeeChi’s everyone agreed on a truce; the laughter and tears had become too much.
“Does anybody wanna talk about what happened back there?” Soul asked from nowhere.
“What?” asked Ham.
“All those cars … stoppin’ at the same time … all the car alarms going off.”
Harvis looked at Naz for what seemed longer than the allotted time and Naz shrugged.
“Sun spots,” said Ham.
“What?” asked Soul, incredulous.
“Sun spots … er … flares,” amended Ham. “They do things like that to our atmosphere … I don’t know.”
“Where’d you get that from, your ugly girlfriend?” Everyone started laughing again.
“Whatever, man.” Ham waved his hand.
Soul looked at Harvis, who looked back at Naz.
“Don’t look at me.” Naz shrugged. “I don’t know what happened back there.”
“Forget those cars. Who’s goin’ to Union next year?” asked Ham.
Soul and Naz raised their hands. Harvis looked down at the pavement.
“What? Harvis, man you can’t break us up. Who’s gonna pass me the ball? Can you imagine the four of us on the court together four more years?” asked Ham. “Unstoppable.”
IA_B.O.S.S. Page 15
