Not Alone

by Frederic Martin

  “So you must have been scared. Did you know at the time how seriously you were injured?”

  “It was weird when I was shot. I wasn’t sure at first that I’d really been shot, but then the pain started, and the bleeding. Was I scared? Well, yeah I must have been scared, but I didn’t really think about it while it was happening. I was scared for Blue. I thought for sure he would shoot her, but someone else came into the house and Bronco chased after him instead.”

  “Who? Who came into the house?”

  “I have no idea, some guy who just ran off, but I’d like to thank him because he probably saved our lives too!”

  Blue and Will and Chief Hannah had decided to skirt the whole issue of Jack. Will was glad. He really did think he owed one to Jack.

  “Well, we’re all glad to see that you’re going to be okay. And I think everyone is grateful for what you did to save Blue’s life. You are a hero!”

  “Look, I’m not a hero. I wish people would stop saying that. I just tried to do the right thing and I got shot. I’m glad to help, but I sure could have done without the whole shooting thing!”

  The reporter just laughed and so did everyone in the room at the O’Days

  “That’s telling him, Will,” said Sam.

  “That’s my brother!” said Rose.

  “I also got to speak with Blue DuBois, and I can tell you she is one tough little lady.” The screen faded back to the police station where the reporter was interviewing Blue. The Blue on the screen was the tough survivor Will had gotten to know that summer, but the Blue clinging to his hand tonight was not that Blue.

  “So Blue, it must have been very frightening for you! How do you feel now that it is all over?” asked the reporter.

  “I was very scared, but I was angry, too. I think being angry helped a lot. This guy was scary but I wasn’t going to let him get to me.”

  “Did you ever feel like you would never get rescued?”

  “Come on, what kind of question is that to ask? I’m sorry I let them interview you Blue!” said Pa Bill angrily.

  “Hush Bill!” said Ma Beth.

  “I . . . I tried not to think about it. I never lost hope, at least not until the heroin.”

  “How do you know it was heroin, Blue?”

  Blue shot her patented glare at the reporter. “You don’t even know? This guy was a drug dealer in town! He’s been getting kids drugs for months now! That’s why I was angry. I wasn’t going to let this guy get me.”

  “Well, I can see that he got more than he bargained for with you! I am glad everything turned out okay, and that you’re safe now.”

  “It didn’t turn out okay because he’s still out there somewhere!”

  “Well, I’m sure he won’t come back here—not with you in town. That’s for sure, Blue!”

  Everyone in the O’Day house was clapping and cheering. Will looked at Blue, and she was finally smiling, a bit like herself. She relaxed her tight grip on his hand, but she didn’t let go.

  The news kept going talking about the search for Bob Kelly, and they showed police drawings of him with and without his beard. And then they showed the drawing of Bronco made by Blue.

  “You make those police artists look like amateurs,” said Sam.

  Ma Beth said, “Sam, be nice.” But everyone else was nodding in agreement.

  The news mentioned the red backpack and the missing car and then gave numbers for anyone to call with information. This was all stuff everyone in the room already knew, so there wasn’t much listening going on anymore. Instead, everyone was discussing theories of where Bronco Bob may have gone, what his chances of being found were, and why his car hadn’t been found.

  Blue looked up at Will with an expression of slight embarrassment and then let go of his hand. It was like she had woken up from a bad dream, and realized she had been clinging to a stranger.

  He tried to reassure her, “Hey, it’s okay.”

  She didn’t reply, she just looked down.

  The discussion and the noise of the TV in the living room suddenly irritated Will for some reason. He decided to retreat back to the kitchen, away from the voices. Blue followed him. They were there only a moment when Wu slipped in to join them.

  All three stood silent for a while until Wu finally said, “Blue, I am still mad at you, but you had guts, going after Bronco. Just don’t scare us like that again, okay?”

  “Okay,” said Blue. “Thanks, Wu. You’re a good foster brother.”

  Wu laughed and said, “Hey sister.” “Thank God you’re okay.” and he grabbed her and gave her a hug.

  Will heard Wu’s chiss, and from the look on her face, Blue must have, too.

  “Wu, there is something we didn’t tell you about vox.”

  Will glanced at Blue. She looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. She didn’t say or vox anything but her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment like she was thinking. Then she looked back at Will and nodded.

  Wu was watching them. “You’re doing it now, aren’t you?”

  Will looked at Wu and smiled. “Actually, not! But you were.”

  “What?” said Wu. “What are you talking about?”

  “Look, sometimes we can hear other people’s thoughts. It’s like everyone has a little vestigial vox tissue in their eyes. Sam was right, we can kind of read your mind sometimes. Just now, Blue and I both heard you when you thought ‘Thank God you’re okay.’”

  Wu stood stock still. Will waited for some reaction but Wu’s expression was frozen. It almost looked like he wasn’t surprised, or maybe he was shocked into a coma. Will looked at Blue, who was looking at Wu, and then he looked back at Wu and saw that his face began to change. Wu screwed his face into an intent look like he was going to stare a hole in the wall. And then Will heard a chiss delivered slowly and deliberately, “I am glad you heard me. I do thank God you are both alive.” “Did you hear that?”

  Will and Blue looked at each other and then laughed. Blue’s laughter startled Will. It was probably only the second or third time he had heard Blue really laugh. The sound seemed to break a spell, and the tension brought on by the newscast finally dissipated. He turned to Wu and said, “Yeah, I think you’re getting it. You don’t have to make that face for us to hear you, though.”

  Just then an announcement came from the living room. It was Pa Bill. “Okay, it is time for a toast and then bedtime! Some of us have work in the morning!” Will looked at Wu as they headed to the living room and whispered, “I’ll explain it all later. This is going to be interesting, I’ve never had a friend that knew about us.”

  In the living room, Ma Beth was passing out cups of seltzer water. Pa Bill held his glass of tea high in the air and announced, “To the Woods and O’Day families! And to the great power of family, friendship, and love! And especially to the safe return of two very special people!” He nodded his head toward Will and Blue and everyone raised their cups and chanted, “Hear hear!” Then there were hugs all around, as the Woods family gathered their things and said their goodbyes.

  Will took one last look at Blue and Wu, as he and Rose walked down the sidewalk behind their parents. He saw Blue glare at him from the porch and vox, “Balance! Move like a cat!” And he thought he might have heard a faint, “See you, knucklehead,” from Wu. Just before he turned away, he saw Blue jab Wu in the ribs with her elbow. He noticed her classic half-smile was back. She seemed to have returned closer to her normal, good self now. He hoped it would stay that way but there was still something else going on inside her. The fact that she had reached out to him showed that she wasn’t invincible. She could hide her inner thoughts, and she could control what she said and how she expressed herself, but the grip of her hand and that anxiety that he felt when she looked at him revealed that under that thick skin, she was still fighting demons.

  He watched the sidewalk passing below him as he walked. He knew he should be feeling worried about her, but instead all he could think about was the tingle that crept up his arm
when she slipped her hand into his and the feeling of warmth emanating from her body as she stood close to him. His hand felt empty now. He looked at it and flexed his fingers. A little shiver went up his arm. He sighed and stuck his hand in his pocket, just so he wouldn’t feel the emptiness. He caught up to his parents and fell in behind them. As they walked the last half block to their house, he looked up at the stars and breathed deeply. The moon was just rising, and it seemed that the air had a little September nip to it.

  Everyone was in bed, or at least retired to their bedrooms. Blue was lying on her bed with only the night sky lighting her room through the open window. Her mind was rambling again. The events of the past week were over. The get-together tonight was the closing chapter. That was how it was supposed to feel, at least. But it didn’t. There was something else going on that hadn’t been there before. It showed up as soon as the newscast started. She didn’t know where it came from. All she knew was that she suddenly felt like she was going to fall to pieces. The only thing that prevented it was Will’s hand. She didn’t know how or why, but like so many times before, it seemed like her body knew what to do, much better than her mind. It had seized his hand and gripped it like a lifeline. His hand was strong and from it flowed a sense of stability and security. That feeling was still with her now. She sighed. She didn’t want to be dependent on another person for that feeling, and yet it had felt good, holding his hand. Maybe it was okay just this once.

  A soft gust of wind ruffled her window curtains. The late summer breeze was warm but tinted with a slight crispness, hinting that fall was coming. She closed her eyes, so she could empty her mind and open it to the familiar sounds that surrounded her now. She felt the softness of her mattress supporting her gently. The breeze from the window played with the loose strands of her hair, making them dance lightly across her face. Her bedroom door was open wide. She was never going to close it again at night. She wanted to absorb every creak and shuffle and voice and laugh from every corner of the house every night from now on. She could hear the muffled sound of Wu telling something to Sam and Sam laughing. She heard the voice of Pa Bill calling down the hall telling them to quiet down. She heard the pipes rush as someone ran water somewhere. The house made its own living breathing sounds. They surrounded her like a warm soft wind, lulling her gently into a sense of peace, allowing her to forget, just for a moment, that her demons were not banished, only at bay.

  39

  Old Haunt

  “Same again, Justin?”

  The bar was nearly empty, but the air was still thick with cigarette smoke. It was always thick with cigarette smoke, whether there were people there or not. It was a permanent fixture of this bar, like the neon “Schlitz” sign with the flickering “l”, or the ancient mirror behind the bar, encrusted with decaying autographed photos of dead, half-famous celebrities.

  “Why not,” Justin said.

  It wasn’t his favorite bar, but it was quiet. Quiet was what he wanted right now. Quiet and a fair dose of alcohol.

  The bartender poured another whiskey and added a splash of water. He put it down in front of Justin and took the empty glass. It was the fourth, or maybe fifth glass he’d taken from Justin tonight.

  “Taking the subway, right?”

  “Always looking after me, eh, Stu?” Justin replied.

  “Lookin’ after me. Gotta keep my license,” he said. “Sorry to hear about your car, though. That was a sweet ride.”

  Justin didn’t answer, he just took a sip from the fresh drink. Stu knew better than to hang around, so he moved back down the bar. Justin let his eyes wander up to the small flatscreen TV above the mirror. No sound, just the same channel Stu always played, the Endless-Fucking-News channel. Maybe it was good for business—showing non-stop disaster and death. It seemed to match his mood at the moment, anyway, and he was drinking plenty. Here’s to you, Stu. He held his glass up to the TV.

  He stared at the images in an alcohol trance. He watched the mouths of the talking heads open and shut. Wah, wah, wah, wah. He watched a flashy news-break graphic do its seizure-inducing dance on the screen. He stared at it, bleary-eyed, foggy, half-comatose. Another image appeared on the screen. For some reason, this one burrowed down into the still-sober part of his brain. When it finally penetrated the alcohol barrier, he felt like he was hit by a cattle prod. He nearly fell off the bar stool.

  It was that damn cop.

  He focused his eyes on the news ticker at the bottom of the screen.

  “UPDATE ON ABDUCTION IN WESTBURY, VT . . . RESCUER AND ABDUCTEE INTERVIEW UP NEXT . . .”

  He glanced down the bar. Stu was watching the other flatscreen and faced away from him. He looked back up at the screen. Now it was that damn kid, his arm in a sling.

  “I’M NOT A HERO SAYS 15-YEAR-OLD RESCUER . . .”

  Bastard. Live witness number one. Rub salt in my wounds, why don’t you. He’s not my real problem, though. It was that she-demon, the mind-reader, the one that knew his secrets. How many, he wasn’t sure, and that was his problem.

  Her image flashed on the screen. A little beat-up looking. At least that was satisfying. She looked at the camera and he nearly ducked. Steady, you idiot, he thought. She can’t see you and there is no way she could read your mind through a TV.

  “I WASN’T GOING TO LET THIS GUY GET TO ME, SAYS ABDUCTEE, WHO WAS DRUGGED AND BOUND FOR MORE THAN 24 HOURS . . .”

  Fucking little witch.

  “Stu, I’m ready to settle up.” He’d had enough. It was time to go home and come up with a plan. He had unfinished business and he’d put it off for long enough.

  “Just a minute, I want to finish this.”

  “What kind of bartender are you? The TV is for the customers.”

  “Yadda, yadda, what’s your hurry. Hey take a look at this police sketch . . . no it’s not a police sketch, it’s a sketch by that girl!”

  Justin looked back up at the screen. He might as well have been looking in the bar mirror. It was as if he’d sat for a portrait. At least a portrait before he’d shaved his beard off. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

  “Jeez, Justin, this guy, Bronco sure looks a lot like you! You got a brother in Vermont?” said Stu, finally turning from the TV and walking down to where Justin was sitting.

  But Justin was gone.

  Stu stood there with raised eyebrows. “You’re welcome!” He snapped up the wad of bills that Justin left on the bar, counted five twenties, and nodded appreciatively. He put two of the twenties in his pocket. “And you are welcome back any time if you keep tipping like that, Justin my boy.”

  But Justin had no intention of coming back.

  At least, not as Justin.

  Or Bronco . . . .

  Afterword

  Did you enjoy Vox Oculis: Not Alone?

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  Acknowledgments

  Creative work cannot happen without a community of supporters, and below is a list of those who helped bring Vox Oculis: Not Alone alive. They deserve a medal of valor for enduring the early (very) rough drafts and shining a bright light on the (many) errors of my ways:

  Tom Smith

  Kerry Lozito

  Collin Parker

  Deb Brinkman

  Jeff Tonn

  Holly Magnani

  Elizabeth Cady Martin

  About the Author

  Photo Credit: Dorothy Schnure

  Frederic Martin lives and writes in and about Vermont. He was awarded the 2018 Vermont Writer’s Prize for his short story Maybe Lake Carmi. Not Alone is his debut novel and book one of the Vox Oculis YA science fiction series.

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  Frederic Martin, Not Alone