Riley Park
Riley Park
Diane Tullson
orac soundings
Copyright © 2009 Diane Tullson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording or by any information storage
and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without
permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Tullson, Diane, 1958-
Riley Park / written by Diane Tullson.
(Orca soundings)
ISBN 978-1-55469-124-1 (bound).--ISBN 978-1-55469-123-4 (pbk.)
I. Title. II. Series.
PS8589.U6055R54 2009 jC813’.6 C2008-908112-9
Summary: The victim of a vicious assault, seventeen-year-old Corbin
struggles to get his life back and deal with the loss of his best friend.
First published in the United States, 2009
Library of Congress Control Number: 2008943407
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by Getty Images
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO BOX 5626, STN. B PO BOX 468
VICTORIA, BC CANADA CUSTER, WA USA
V8R 6S4 98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on 100% PCW recycled paper.
12 11 10 09 • 5 4 3 2 1
For Cathy, with love.
Thanks to writers Shelley, Kim, Maggie, Luke, Laura, Mollie, Rebekah, Dan, Kara, Adam, Erin, Kari, Brie and Brandy, and to Andrew, always.
Chapter One
In the Safeway parking lot, I drop two flats of beer into the back of my car. I leave the hatch open and wait for Darius to arrive with the hotdog stuff. I notice a girl getting off the bus across the parking lot at the bus stop. I’d recognize her from a mile away: Rubee.
Rubee is wearing her Safeway shirt and she’s walking fast, like maybe she’s late for work. Her dark hair is loose on her shoulders.
Darius shows up and slings the grocery bags into the car, fitting them around the beer and my hockey bag.
As Rubee walks, she combs her hair back with her fingers and catches it into a thick ponytail.
Darius says, “She is so hot.”
Darius is watching her too.
I say, “Hot, yes. But Rubee is beautiful.”
Rubee is a senior like Darius and me, but she goes to a different school. I’ve never seen Rubee anywhere but here, at Safeway. We always choose Rubee’s checkout line, even if hers is twice as long as the others. Rubee is worth the wait.
Darius says, “Weird that she took the bus. Her boyfriend always drops her off.”
I’ve never seen her boyfriend, but Rubee wears a guy’s ring on her thumb. Plus, a couple of months ago, she rejected Darius when he asked her out. Go figure—he asked her if she’d like to spend the night with a wild man.
I say, “You’ve seen Rubee’s boyfriend?”
Darius nods. “He has a nice car.”
I glance at my Civic. One fender is a different color and the left taillight is covered with a red plastic bag.
I say, “Maybe it’s her brother.”
“No.” Darius turns to me. “It was her boyfriend. But she took the bus today, so that means he isn’t her boyfriend anymore.”
“Maybe he had to work or something.”
Darius says, “From the car he drives, he makes way more money than a regular job.”
“You think he sells drugs or something?” I watch as Rubee enters the Safeway. “She wouldn’t go out with a guy like that.”
Darius looks at me. “And you would know?”
“Yes. She’s too sweet.”
He says, “Sweet girls fall the hardest.”
I say, “How can you be sure they broke up?”
“Let’s just run with it,” Darius says. “You think she’s too sweet for you?”
My face grows hot. “No.”
“So go ask her out.”
“No.”
He laughs again, and I’m getting pissed off.
I say, “Not today. I’ll ask her out sometime when I’m wearing my team jacket. A hockey jacket makes a busted nose look tough.” Instead of ugly. “And I’ll wear my ring, my junior hockey championship ring.”
Darius says, “If you don’t ask her out right now, I will.”
My hands curl into fists. “Like she’d go out with you, Wildman.”
He shrugs. “Only one way to find out.” He slams down the hatch on my car and strides toward the store.
I catch up with him. “We’ve got everything we need. Let’s go.”
But he’s in the store and in Rubee’s line.
Ahead of us, an old woman in sweatpants smacks coins onto the counter. She is ranting to Rubee about an expired coupon. She doesn’t have much on the conveyor: bananas, toilet paper—the cheap stuff—and some liquid meal replacement old people drink. The cans of meal replacement have a red clearance sticker. They must be close to the best-before date. Maybe they’ve expired.
Rubee speaks quietly to the woman as she pushes several coins back to her. The woman grins, gathers the coins, grabs her bag of groceries and scuttles out of the store. The guy in front of us shovels the rest of his stuff onto the conveyor. Rubee counts the old woman’s coins into the cash drawer. She looks up and sees me. She smiles.
I look at her hand. She’s not wearing the ring.
I watch her scan the guy’s groceries. She’s wearing a black cord bracelet with a round red stone. The stone slides back and forth on her wrist as she works. But she’s not wearing the ring. She smiled at me, she’s not wearing the ring and we’re standing in her line with nothing to buy.
I grab a pack of gum and toss it in a shopping basket.
Darius laughs. “Corbin, if you’re asking her out, you’ll need more time than it takes to ring in one pack of gum.” He turns and snags a half-filled cart someone has left unattended. He pushes the cart into Rubee’s line.
I say to him, “I’m not asking her out. I’m not ready. If she says no, I’ll lose my once-in-a-lifetime chance.” I peer into the cart. “Nice. You were right out of Huggies.”
Behind us, a woman says, “Now where did I leave my cart?”
Darius says, “Once in a lifetime? You’re asking her out, not proposing.”
I pull a package out of the pile of groceries in the cart. “And animal crackers.”
The woman’s voice is louder now. “I swear, I left my cart right here.”
Rubee looks up then, sees the woman. She glances at our cart and rolls her eyes. She picks up the security phone.
Darius says, “Oops, I seem to have someone else’s cart.” And he leaves it there. Just abandons the cart in the line. He walks by me and past the guy ahead of us until he’s standing in front of Rubee. Rubee puts the phone down.
I elbow my way past the guy so that I’m beside Darius. I struggle to meet her eyes. “Uh, sorry about the, uh, cart.”
Darius just stands there. Finally he says to me, “Anything else?”
I glance at Rubee. She looks like she’s waiting for me to say something. Her eyes have little gold flecks. I feel my cheeks turn bright red. I hand her the pack of gum.
She smiles. “Just the gum? No diapers
?”
I shake my head and hand her the money.
Darius sighs. He says to me, “Are you done?”
I look at my shoes.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He turns to Rubee. “Riley Park, tonight. I’m saving myself for you.”
She looks at him and crosses her arms. “Unlikely,” she says, “on both counts.”
“We’ll go swimming.”
“You might, but you’ll freeze.”
“I’m a wild man.” Darius smiles at her. “I’ll bring blankets.”
It’s not like Darius is super attractive. He’s built, but he’s not that tall. He spends a fortune on his hair. Maybe that’s why the girls go for him. Darius reaches into a pail of plastic-wrapped flower bouquets by the check stand. He selects an arrangement of red and white roses. Water from the bouquet drips on the counter. He presents the flowers to Rubee. “These are for you,” he says. “A token of my love.”
Rubee takes the flowers and smiles.
Darius says, “Riley Park. Tonight. Nothing complicated, Rubee. You’re your own woman. No one telling you what to do—you’re in control. Come to the party if you want, bring some friends, have a few laughs, or don’t. It’s totally up to you.”
The guy with the groceries tells us to piss off and get out of the line.
Darius ignores him. “Later, I hope,” Darius says to Rubee, and he blows her a kiss.
Chapter Two
The party is just getting started, and I’m half cut when Darius decides to go cliff jumping. He peels off his shirt and jeans and stands there in his boxers. Some of the girls giggle. One of the guys from my team, Jason, high-fives Darius, but I don’t see Jason or anyone else stripping down. It’s October and cold. Darius is already covered in goose bumps. He looks at me. “Come on. The water will feel warm.”
One of the girls circles Darius’s waist with her arms, folding her hoodie around him.
I shrug, drain my beer and toss the can in a heap by the fire. “So let’s do it.”
The guys cheer. Riley Park is on the banks of the Riley River. On the other side of the river, across a footbridge, are sheer cliffs and then a slope up into a forest. I’m out of my clothes and jogging over the bridge before I can convince myself that we’re nuts.
The cliffs are a rock wall. We climb to the highest outcrop. We’ve timed how long it takes a jumper to hit the water and figure that we’re at least sixty feet up. That’s twice the height of the highest Olympic diving platform. I’m not scared but my stomach does a slow turn, anticipating the rush. Below us, across the river, I can see our fire pit. People are looking up at us. I hear Jason shout, “The gap!”
The gap is higher still, where the rock cliffs give way to forest. We won’t be able to see the water until we’re in the air. We have to take a run at it in order to clear a stand of trees growing on the side of the cliff. The gap is a commitment—once we start, we can’t change our minds. Otherwise we’ll end up bouncing down the stone cliff or impaled on a tree.
Darius says, “We’ll jump the gap together.”
“Together?”
He laughs. “We’ve never done it before. It’ll blow them away.”
“Or us.” We head up to the gap.
Now we’re in the trees and the trail is narrow. We’ll each have to run on the edge of the path. I wish I had something on my feet, although I hate swimming with shoes. Shoes are like anchors.
Darius says, “At the trees, we jump.”
“No, really? I was going to run right into them.”
“If we die, we die together.”
“Nice thought, us dying.”
“On three.” And that fast, we’re down the trail, over the trees and in the air.
For a moment we are weightless. We are suspended in air, motionless, and the moment extends into time. My stomach climbs into my throat. I hear the guys below, hooting, cheering. Darius and I are so close that I can touch him. Finally, we drop. The air is cold, and it whistles over my legs and chest and through my ears.
We hit water. It feels like plywood. It’s cold, like the water is barely liquid. Cold closes over me, clamping my lungs so that the air inside compresses. My lungs feel like fire. I fight for the surface. We’re not that far underwater, but my arms and legs feel useless. When I break the surface, Darius is already there, laughing. I suck a breath, but no air goes in. I gasp. When at last the air enters, it tears into my lungs and I cough. I spit water. Then I’m laughing too. I thrash my arms, heading for the shore.
Beside me, Darius slips into a smooth, head-up front crawl. He says, “My friend, that was a trip.”
At the shore, the rocks are slimy and my fingers can’t seem to bend to get a handhold. I slither out of the water on my belly. Darius is already out, shaking his wet hair on the girls, making them scream. Then I hear her voice. Rubee.
“Hey, Wildman,” she says.
Rubee is looking at Darius, smiling. She’s with another girl I recognize from Safeway. Darius grabs Rubee into a wet hug and she wriggles free.
Darius picks up his clothes and ducks behind a tree. I scramble to my feet and follow him. He drops his wet boxers and yanks on his jeans. Quietly, he says to me, “I knew she couldn’t resist.”
I pull on my pants, hating how they stick to my legs. I say, “You’re an asshole, Darius.”
He laughs. “You had your chance.”
Suddenly I’m not cold anymore. When I speak, there’s a hard edge to my voice. “You didn’t give me a chance.”
His grin fades. “I don’t own her, Corbin. If she wants to hook up with you, she will.” He shakes his head. “What’s your problem, anyway?”
I hate it when he shakes his head like that. It’s like he drops the gloves but won’t fight. I don’t try to keep my voice down—I don’t care who hears. I say, “My problem, Darius?” I shove him in the chest, hard. He stumbles out from behind the tree. “My problem is that you’re here.”
Everyone goes quiet. Jason mutters, “Corbin’s drunk and looking for a fight. What a surprise.”
Rubee moves to Darius’s side.
Darius says to Jason, “Leave him alone.” To me, he says, “We’re okay?”
I glance at Rubee. She’s wearing a white sweater and jeans. I’ve never seen her except in her Safeway uniform. She’s wearing the same red stone bracelet. Her hand goes to Darius’s hip. Nope, I don’t have a chance. With a sigh, I say to Darius, “Yes, we’re okay.” I give Jason a shove. “And I’m not drunk. Yet.”
I storm over to the cooler and grab a six-pack. I pound one back and then another. I guess I drink them all—and I pass out.
When I wake up, the fire is burning high. I see Darius by the edge of the trees, taking a leak. I can’t see Rubee. Where is everybody?
I drag myself to my feet. Darius looks up. I say to him, “Where’s Rubee?”
“She and her friend left hours ago.” Darius zips his pants. “Have a nice nap?”
I say, “Everyone is gone.”
“Jason just left. We burned all the firewood in the park keeping warm.” Darius puts out his hand for my car keys, and I give them to him.
Darius could have left too. He could have left with Rubee or the others. But he waited. I say, “Thanks.”
He laughs. “Corbin, you are such an asshole.” He throws his arm around my shoulders.
Something crashes into the back of my head. The impact sends me flying. At first I think that Darius hit me, but when I turn, I see three guys are on top of him, and one of them is swinging a steel bar.
Chapter Three
Swimming. The guys are swimming in front of my eyes, three guys. They’re wearing hoods, but I can see their faces, sort of. Their faces are blurry, like I’m seeing them from underwater. The guy with the bar, he’s swinging it behind him and over his head. The steel bar arcs and I see it like a blade, a cold gray blade, cutting open the night. The bar crunches against Darius’s shoulder, and he pitches forward onto his knees. I hate that Darius is in the dirt
. I hate that he’s on his knees. I blink, trying to clear my vision, and I struggle to get up. Someone boots me under the chin. My head rockets backward and my teeth puncture my tongue.
The steel bar swings again, thudding against Darius’s back. Darius makes a whooshing noise, that’s all. Another guy is kicking him in the ribs. Darius reaches for the guy’s foot, puts his hands on the guy’s boot as it lands on him again. It looks like Darius is kissing the guy’s boot. The guy with the bar swings it like an axe over Darius’s head.
There is a guy between me and the one with the bar, but it doesn’t matter. I launch myself at the guy with the bar, knocking him off his feet. My fist connects with his face so hard that I feel bones give way. Then the bar is in my hands, and I’m swinging it, bashing it into someone more by chance than skill, but it still doesn’t matter. It just matters that one guy is hurling puke in a perfect spiral as I hit him again, taking out his knees. Blood is running into my eyes and I can’t see, but I swing that bar, my hands slipping on blood and snot and puke. Somewhere I hear sirens,and then there’s nothing to hit. They’re running. I take off after them, the path crazy under my feet. I hear a car engine, a nice car, and gravel spewing. I drop the bar and claw at my eyes, trying to see. The car has no lights. It slews around in the lot, and then it’s gone.
Darius. I reel along the path back to the fire pit. In the light of the fire, I make out his shape on the ground. I crumple beside him. “Darius.” Don’t move him. My head is pounding, an actual noise, like a helicopter is inside my head. “Darius!” I shout it, but I can’t hear my own voice. Darius’s eyes are open, but he’s not looking at me. Then I feel hands on my shoulders.
They’re back.
I’m on my feet and my fist is roundhousing and I feel flesh. I hit again, and teeth crack under my fist. I hear voices and they’re shouting and a light burns into my face. I’m blind in the light, swinging, and I plant my fist into the big square face of a cop.
The Taser hits me in the chest. I don’t know it’s a Taser when it hits me, but in a split second, I know.
Riley Park Page 1
