“What are you doing, Elizabeth?” He frowns at my odd behavior.
“Just trying to make things easier for Mr. Henley. Who knows how many messes he’s had to clean up today.” I chew my bottom lip.
“Okay, but why?” His hand grabs mine and stills it.
“I don’t know. I just get the feeling the janitor doesn’t really like me that much.” I look at Mr. Henley, who now ignores me as he mops the area of the floor around the last spill.
“I’d like to say you’re imagining things, but that man has never liked teenagers. It’s not you though. He hates everyone here. It would be a miracle if he started liking people now.” He snatches up the napkins and carries them, sodden and dripping, to the trash can. When he returns, he nods to my untouched food. “Now you need to eat.”
“All right. All right,” I say in exasperation, picking up my fork so he’ll stop. He’s a lot like Jimmie in that regard. I nibble at a carrot stick. “Happy?”
“Not yet,” he muses, “but I might be if you keep it up.”
Gritting my teeth, I load my fork and focus on stuffing my face. I’m so focused I don’t even notice Mr. Henley until he’s practically on top of us, closer to me than Lev.
“You gonna move your stuff or not?” he snaps, letting the wet sponge drip on the table, not far off from my plate. It pools there and a runnel of it streaks toward the edge where it spatters drop by drop on my thigh.
“Sure,” I manage, grabbing my tray and standing to give him the room he needs. Lev follows my lead, and once the table is clean, we sit down.
Henley shakes his head. “Jeez, could you be a little neater? I don’t have all day to clean up after you.” He gives me a pointed stare.
“Sure,” I say, pretty much willing to promise almost anything to get him away from us. That must have done it because after one last dirty look, the man walks away.
“You’re right. Mr. Friendly is less friendly to you. What did you do to him?”
“Nothing.” I pick up my can and find that a bit remains after the spill. I take a sip.
Rather than arguing, Lev watches Henley for a moment before going back to his lunch.
“Hey, how about coming over to my place after school. I can help you work on homework. I know you’re not doing well right now, what with everything….”
I narrow my eyes at him, waiting, but he doesn’t push. Still…. “Do you have another nasty surprise in store? I’d rather go home if that’s the case.”
He grins, ignoring me. “No nasty surprises. I just know Evan and Celia feel bad for the way things have turned out and they want you to come over for dinner.”
His smile is infectious, and I realize one thing for certain: I’ll never be able to stay mad at him for long—however long that ends up being. Besides, none of this is his fault really.
I crinkle my nose at him and whisper, “Do angels even have to eat?”
“Not officially. We just like to.”
“Well,” I say, drawing out my reply. “I guess I’m in. But I need to call Jimmie before lunch is over.”
“All right,” he says. “Anyways, wouldn’t you like to take another sky ride?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, wishing the rest of my life could be like this.
“How do you know it won’t be better?” He tries to smile but neither of us feels it.
I ignore the comment, but it stings anyway. I look at my tray and pick it up. “Think I’ve lost my appetite. I’m gonna go dump this.”
Lev nods. “I’ll go with you.” We take care of our trays and head to the office. As I expected, Jimmie has no problem with me going over to Lev’s after school, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t issue me the standard “Be careful” talk I always get. Still, little does he know how good a thing it is to be with Lev, all things considered.
I’m still daydreaming about being with Lev after school when my Ms. Ramos, my English teacher, calls me up to her desk and gestures to a history book on her desk.
“Could you take this book to Mr. Maguire. It belongs to a student who checked out last week, and somehow his textbook ended up in here.” As I start to the door, she calls, “Oh, he’s probably in the wing that’s being remodeled so you’ll probably have to go around the back end of the building to get to that section.”
“Okay.” I head out into the hallway and outside to re-enter the school from the side that is under remodeling, and in some parts, under new construction. As the hallway is not a hardhat area, none of the workers question my presence. Still, I have to ask one if he has seen Mr. Maguire. He points to the first room on the left.
After thanking him, I walk to the closed door and knock.
Mr. Maguire opens the door and frowns. “Shouldn’t you be in class, Ms. Moon?”
“I am. Ms. Ramos asked me to bring you this book. Apparently the kid it was given to checked out of school last week.”
He grabs the book. “Thank you.”
I look around the room, wondering why he’s even out here. It’s really just walls and old flooring, wood that’s probably rotten enough it will be torn up. He must sense my confusion.
“I’ve been waiting ten years for a new classroom, Ms. Moon. Contrary to popular belief, I do enjoy teaching, and I’m planning what a difference this room can make.”
I nod and I think back to the conversation he had with Jimmie in the office. “How do you know Jimmie?”
He pulls off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. “Mr. Abram and I were good friends in school. It’s a shame that we drifted apart.” He slips the glasses back on.
I shiver. The room is cold. “Did you know my mom and dad?”
“Your mom, yes. She was a beautiful lady. It was a terrible shame she died so young. She never should have been on that road.” He glances at his watch. “You should probably get back to class before Ms. Ramos sends out a search party.
I nod and walk away, more than grateful to be going back to my daydreaming about Lev and after the final bell rings at the end of the day, Lev and I drive to his house. Even as we enter, I can smell the Italian spices of spaghetti floating around. My eyes widen in delight and I turn to Lev. “Isn’t it a little early for dinner?” He gently pulls my coat off, followed by his own.
“The sauce is simmering. It’ll still be a couple of hours before we eat so you’re going to have to be content drooling right now.”
“Oh, Okay.” I laugh.
“You want something to drink?”
“Yeah.”
Taking my hand, he leads me into the kitchen where Evan, not Celia, stands over the stove. Evan turns to me and stares, probably trying to gauge exactly how I’m dealing with everything.
“Hey, Elizabeth.”
It’s pretty tough to reconcile all the powers I’ve seen Lev demonstrate with a “man” standing in front of a hot stove, clad in a white apron and brandishing a white spatula.
“I wouldn’t tell him that,” Lev offers, snickering, as he pulls out two cans of soda from the fridge.
“What?” Evan asks, looking from me to Lev.
“That it’s very nice of you to fix a meal like this,” I say, giving Lev an elbow and offering Evan a gracious smile.
“Don’t believe a word,” Lev says, bursting into laughter. “She’s expecting you to turn into Donna Reed with wings.”
“Oh,” he says grinning. “Really? Should I have worn pearls?” He blinks at me disarmingly. “Nah. They’d look kind of silly, wouldn’t they? Besides, apple pie’s not my thing. I like a nice sponge cake myself.”
“Angel food, right?”
Evan tosses me a wink but says nothing.
I point at his apron that says, “Earning my kitchen wings by not burning things.” I shake my head. “You know, Jimmie never wears an apron.”
Evan chuckles. “A real torch-bearer, eh? Maybe he’s better at not spilling things,” Lev says, pouring our sodas into glasses. “I mean, no offense Evan, but for an angel, you really are clumsy.”
“N
o spaghetti for you, my ‘son.’” He wields the spatula with a flourish and a smile.
“Bummer.” He hands me a full glass and takes his own. “Come on. I’ll show you my room.” He shoots Evan one more smirk before turning away.
I follow him down a long hall to the room at the end. He reaches for the doorknob and slowly opens it. As he flips on the light, I look around, stunned. A room painted some other color besides an earth tone, but the ecru walls, take me back. There’s a large map framed on the wall above his bed, and the only other decorations that line the walls are framed pictures of Lev, Evan, and Celia taken at various times during their ‘lives.’ The other things I notice are lots of old books on shelves. He enters and I follow him, walking to the shelves to look at the titles.
“Shelly said you read a lot.”
He shrugs. “Not really. I just pretend because I’ve read so much stuff. Anyway, so long as people think I’m buried in books, they tend to be very open about whatever they say, somehow equating bookwormishness with deafness.”
I laugh. “Maybe I should try that.”
“It works. Trust me.”
For a moment, he captures me with those dark blue eyes, and I think, You have no idea how much I trust you. I pick up one book, The Old Curiosity Shop, and flip to a page in the middle. Even as I looked at the page, I smell the musty pages. Closing my eyes, I savor it.
“Lev? Lizzie?” Celia calls from the hall and is at once in the doorway, breathless and wide-eyed. All the color has vanished from her cheeks and both of us gape at her, trying to read her expression. A sudden thought comes to mind and I want it to be wrong. She waves us to follow, and all three of us race back to the living room. Celia stops in front of the television. Immediately, all of us stare at the screen, where a reporter stands on the trail near the falls.
“The body was discovered by two hikers shortly after noon today, and has been sent off by officials for dating and identification. As it stands now, the trail is closed to future hiking until the crime scene investigation has been completed.”
The breath catches in my throat and a shiver quakes through me. I look at my watch and realize Jimmie is probably still at home. He always watches the news. He’ll be freaking out. I turn to Lev.
“I need to call Jimmie.”
“Sure. Follow me.” He leads me to the phone, and I snatch it up and hit three wrong digits before finally getting the number right. But instead of reaching Jimmie, I get his voicemail. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal. He misses calls sometimes or forgets to turn on his phone. But today it just feels awkward, not right. Something is terribly wrong and I can feel it. I hang up and turn to Lev.
“I need to go home.”
“I’ll drive,” Lev says.
Chapter Seventeen
The whole way home, I can’t stop shaking. Pretending to be cold, I draw my coat tighter. I try to ignore Lev’s drawn expression. His hand slides along the seat until he finds my knee and rests there. His usual warmth suffuses through me.
“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice rumbling through me. In the darkness, his tan coat appears almost white as passing car lights stab through the windshield.
“Just thinking about Jimmie.” I brush the hair from my face.
“Why don’t you try calling again?” Lev pulls his own cell out and hands it to me.
“Thanks.” I flip the phone open and dial the number. As the unanswered rings add up, my shoulders ache. I’ve been sitting all tensed and bunched up for way too long. Or what seems like it. I look at the clock on the cell and realize there’s no reason he shouldn’t answer. I snap the phone shut. We pull into the drive an eternity later.
“Everything looks all right,” Lev cranes his neck to take a close look at the property.
“Yeah, well, Ted Bundy looked all right, too,” I mutter.
“That’s a healthy thought,” he admits, cutting off the engine and pulling the keys from the ignition. “I’ll go have a look.”
“I’m coming, too.”
“Just stay here.”
I nod to the encroaching darkness. “If you go in there and everything is fine, you’re going to make Jimmie suspicious as hell, which is the last thing either of us need.”
He holds up his hands. “Okay. Stay close.”
I walk around the truck until I’m standing beside him. “This close enough?”
“Definitely.”
Lapsing into silence, we both jog up the walk to the porch to find the door ajar. Forcing myself not to panic, I nudge the door open.
Inside the living room is a tumble of overturned shelves and scattered books. The sofa has been capsized and the recliner seat cushion has been slit, the stuffing strewn about the room like artificial snow. DVDs are everywhere in and out of cases, and curtains have been torn down, leaving the blinds askew. “Half-breed” is painted across the wall.
Breathing frantically, I start to rush inside but Lev grabs my arm. “Call 911 now. I’ll look for Jimmie.”
I lean against the doorframe and with trembling fingers flip open Lev’s cell. I push 911 and wait. On the second ring, the dispatcher picks up.
“911. How may I assist you?”
I fight to keep my voice even. “Someone broke into my house, and I haven’t found my guardian yet.” I watch Lev carefully move some of the books and shelves aside.
“Please calm down, Miss. What is your address?”
“4618 SW Finley.” The trembling in my voice sounds like I’m about to lose it. I’m dizzy and breaking out into a cold sweat.
“I’ll send a unit right out. Is the intruder is still there?”
“I don’t know. We’re having trouble getting past all the clutter on the floor.”
“Is anyone at the residence injured?” Her voice is so calm.
I stammer, biting back my hysteria. “I don’t know.” I keep looking at all the damage. I stumble over my own two feet, and even though she’s asking another question, I can’t make out what she’s saying. All I can think about is Jimmie and how none of this was supposed to happen. I try to step to the left but my foot gets tangled in a pile of books, tripping me. The world is completely silent as my knees immerse themselves amid the mess. The phone lands atop a broken picture, and it’s then I see the glass jutting from my palms. An image of Jimmie floods into my mind and I start crying. I feel my body spasm with soundless sobs.
Lev turns abruptly and quickly steps over to me, grabbing the cell phone and says something to the dispatcher. Then he snaps the phone shut and lifts me. He’s speaking, but I don’t hear him, either.
“You have to calm down.” I watch his face but his lips aren’t moving. Lev turns my palms up. Four distinct gashes seep blood, and Lev runs his fingers over them, eyeing the jagged remnants he gingerly pulls out.
“You can’t help like this. Focus.” He finishes with my hand and forces me to look at him. “Just breathe, and wait for the world to resume.”
The first sound I hear is that of my own heart. It’s galloping so fast it seems it will never slow. Then I hear the faint wail of approaching sirens. Finally, I hear the lazy spin of the ceiling fan above us.
“The police are almost here,” he says. I rise and start upstairs, but he holds me back. “Let the cops go in.”
“What if Jimmie’s hurt?”
Lev shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’m used to carrying souls across the threshold; I’m pretty sure I’d know if someone here were close. Trust me.”
I nod as Lev grips my elbows and forces me to go with him. Together, we step to the door where a cop is getting out of his car and walking to the door.
“We had a call about breaking and entering.”
I nod woodenly.
He looks from me to Lev. “You two need to wait outside so I can go through the house.”
“Yes, Sir.” Lev rests his hands on my shoulder, rubbing gently, reassuringly. “We’ll be out by my truck.” I start to fight, but I’m no match for Lev’s determination as
he pulls me outside.
“Let me go.” I keep struggling.
“I’ll carry you if I need to.” His flat tone and neutral expression tells me he’s determined.
The last thing I see before Lev forces me outside is the cop drawing his gun and starting up the stairs. Panic threatens to consume me, but Lev’s soothing warmth keeps washing over me, fighting back.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispers. “Trust me.”
“Why Jimmie?” I ask softly, turning into him so that I can rest against the warm soft wall of his chest as his arms curl around me. I feel the truck at my back.
“It may be related to the discovery today,” Lev says. “When Jimmie went to the police years ago, there was no case to be made. Your father was just missing. Everybody thought he took off. Everybody except Jimmie. Now that suddenly there is a body, Jimmie might have a reason to start dissecting this little town, trying to discover who hated your father enough to want to kill him. Probably Jimmie knows something he really doesn’t remember knowing, and that something could cause a world of problems for the attacker so Jimmie is a ticking bomb the killer has to deal with.”
If he wasn’t holding me so tightly, I’d be shaking to pieces, but the calming aura comes with Lev, and as long as I feel him touching me, I can survive this fear. His words swim around me. I know there is meaning in them, and Lev’s more apt at pulling things together as they should be than most others. So I just let the world wait apart from this moment.
A couple of moments later, the cop comes outside and does a perimeter sweep before walking over to Lev’s truck. “The house is clear. I found Mr. Abram and have called for an ambulance.”
I take a shuddering breath and pull away from Lev as the world restarts its shuddering spin. Even though I lurch toward the house, Lev maintains a hand on my back.
Sojourner Page 17
