Like The Wind

by Bengtsson, J.

  If I couldn’t trust a person thrust into the path of my oncoming vehicle, then I had bigger problems than I thought. I’d always lived by the ‘trust no one’ motto but things were different now. I was different. Running through that burning house, struggling for every breath, a horrifying thought had popped into my mind: no one would miss me when I was gone. Sure, millions of fans would mourn my death, but none of them knew the real me. And they’d move on as soon as a new teen idol was crowned.

  No one would truly mourn my passing. No one I loved anyway. And the reason was, I didn’t really love anyone back. My life was bleak. There was no light. No connection. No passion. As horrible as tonight was, I’d been given the gift of foresight. Life was too short to be lived in the dark.

  With that in mind, I was dedicating myself to a whole new beginning. A whole new me. Instead of being the same old Bodhi Beckett I’d always been, I was going to try something new. Be someone different. And lucky for me, I just happened to have a whole other identity—one I hadn’t known about until three months ago. Today wouldn’t so much be the death of my old self, but the rebirth of the person I was born to be— Alexander Easton. Son of Marni Easton, and god knows who else.

  “Problem?” I asked, setting aside my reservation.

  “A small one but I think we’re good.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “My landlady. She’s… how do I put this… special.”

  “Like ‘good’ special or ‘what the fuck’ special?”

  “Well, she hates men, pets, and broccoli.”

  I had to smile at that. Breeze was all kinds of quirky. Most of the people I knew wouldn’t run into a burning building to save their own mothers, and here she was shoving cats into duffle bags. Maybe this was what I’d been missing—the spontaneity that was life. The messy. The unpredictable. Like the wind.

  Trying to calculate my odds with the veggie-hating shrew, I asked, “In that order?”

  Breeze raised a brow, studying me in amusement. “Well, that’s an interesting question, Bodhi. I mean I don’t think it really matters in the scheme of things. My bet is she hates the thought of you, in any old order.”

  “Yeah but what you’re not factoring in is my way with women. I’m fairly confident I can whittle her list of hates down to two.”

  She laughed, not the fake ‘you’re famous so whatever you say is hysterical’ giggle. But the more natural ‘I find you oddly humorous’ chuckle. I had to say, I preferred the latter. Although, to be fair, the fake laugh hadn’t bothered me until I heard Breeze’s genuinely awesome one.

  “Okay Romeo,” She humored me. “I’d love to see you try.”

  Maybe it was the way we met, but I wasn’t getting the fangirl vibe from Breeze at all. She obviously knew who I was given the fact she’d used my name well before we’d been formally introduced, but either she didn’t care about my celebrity or the blow she’d taken to the head had altered her reaction time.

  Whatever it was, I couldn’t help but be impressed with the outlook of this girl. Both her disposition and her strength of character. It had been a long time since a person had caught my attention like she had. And, although I couldn’t get a full picture of what she looked like under all the blood, sweat, and tears, I could see enough to know she was, at the very least, an attractive girl. Lively deep blue eyes outlined in long, fluttery black lashes accented her pretty oval face. Were those lashes real or fake? I couldn’t tell, but they complimented the rest of her perfectly. Breeze was small framed and trim, yet had the body of a woman who still enjoyed the food on her plate.

  Coming from an environment of required perfection, where starving yourself was the norm, it was refreshing to see a person comfortable in the skin she was wearing. Breeze was the real deal, the type of woman I wouldn’t typically meet but one I couldn’t seem to look away from.

  “Oh, and did I mention my landlady looks like a grizzly bear and carries an arsenal of weapons specifically for your type of charming?”

  Suddenly wooing the armed property-owner wasn’t the fun challenge I’d expected it to be. My face must have betrayed me because Breeze looked me up and down in amusement before saying, “Clearly you aren’t as confident in your wooing skills as you proclaim.”

  “That’s not it at all, I’m just recalculating my approach.”

  “Uh huh. Anyway, I’m not so much worried about you as I am the pets. They don’t have your special swagger to protect them.”

  “This is true. So are we all just going to parade through her house and hope for the best?”

  “We’re not going through her place. I live in the granny flat out back.”

  “Well, then what’s the problem?”

  “I just didn’t want us to become target practice, is all. Maybe I’m just being paranoid but, you know, her house is dark so she’s probably asleep.”

  “Or… and I’m just throwing out a wild theory here… don’t you think it’s possible her house might be dark because the electricity’s out in the entire city?”

  “Crap! The full moon’s so bright I forgot the damn power was out. Okay, that puts a slight wrench in things. We just need to be exceptionally quiet. Can you do that?”

  “Well, I don’t know, Breeze. I can try.”

  She laughed like I was some top-rated comedian. I liked that. And yeah, I could be quiet, but I had my doubts about yappy-pants in the backseat. Anything short of using actual chloroform didn’t seem worth the effort. But Breeze was out the door before I could voice my concerns, kicking her foot all around the back trunk area while reciting a variety of different spells to make it open.

  “Abracadabra. Wingardium Leviosa. Expelliarmus.”

  I hopped out and hurried to her side, eager to watch the show. “Come on,” I said. “Everyone knows all the Expelliarmus spell does is disarm the opponent. You need to use the unlock charm.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “I should have brushed up on Harry Potter before driving a frickin’ Range Rover.”

  I shoved her aside playfully. “Let me show you how it’s done. Alohomora!”

  I waved my leg and the trunk’s cover began to rise.

  Breeze shook her head. “You shouldn’t need a college degree to drive one of these things.”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Yeah, but you’re rich.”

  “So?” I laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re used to fancy things that make no sense. I mean, what’s with the curtains that open and shut at the push of a button? You know how I do it? I walk over and manually pull them open. Voilà!”

  “Sure, you could do it that way, but technology’s the shit. Why wouldn’t you want to use it?”

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate electronics. I’m just saying what’s the point of push button curtains when it’s quicker and easier to do it yourself?”

  “They’re remote controlled.”

  “What are?”

  “The curtains, they’re remote controlled and set on timers so no button pushing. Some are even dusk to dawn regulated.”

  Breeze stood there with her hands on her hips as I went on and on about curtains. Once I came up for a breath, she asked, “Are you finished now?”

  “I… yeah, sure.”

  “Good.” Breeze tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Was it pink? I couldn’t tell under all the fire debris. Then giving one last glance in the direction of the main house, she lowered her voice and said, “I’m going to have you carry Brangelina and I’ll tackle Sweetpea.”

  What was she talking about? I wracked my brain trying to recall any previous mention of the former Hollywood power couple. I had nothing. Taking pity on me, Breeze filled in the blanks, as if it were a conversation we’d already had many times over.

  “The rats? Brad and Angelina?”

  No, that definitely wasn’t communicated to me at any time during our miraculous escape or even during this special black ops
mission. I considered arguing the point but decided it wasn’t worth a comment or complaint since I’d be carrying the rats regardless. As I hoisted the cage into my arms, the celebrity rats scattered, sending dust and wood chips flying.

  “Hey, Breeze?” I whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “This might be a good time to tell you I’m not a fan of rodents.”

  “That’s not what I saw on TMZ. You seemed quite chummy with a squirrel last week.” She blitzed me with a sly sideways glance.

  “You saw that?”

  “I did.”

  “And what about the full moon at the convenience store?”

  She nodded. “That too.”

  “GI Joe?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, shit.” I shook my head, smiling. “Stalker.”

  “No, I’m under thirty… and human. I think I can confidently say I’ve seen pretty much all of you now, Bodhi.”

  “Not everything,” I answered with an arched brow. If she was going there, so was I.

  Breeze laughed. “The night’s not over yet.”

  And even though she was clearly kidding, my ears perked up anyway. Now, I was feeling way better about my decision to crash land at Breeze’s place. Even if it meant tiptoeing my way through the backyard of the gun-toting enemy of the vegetable world.

  Hercules ran up ahead and, assuming he knew where he was going, I took my rats and followed him.

  “Wrong way, dork.” Breeze giggled as she sped-walked in front of me cradling something bulky under her shirt. “Follow me, not the dog. He’s never been here before.”

  I got a better look at her pregnant belly and it was wiggling. “Tell me that’s not the Chihuahua,” I said.

  “Well, it’s not the Saint Bernard.”

  In response to my questioning stare, Breeze elaborated. “He’s afraid of the dark. I thought it would keep him from barking. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Huh, okay. And you’re not afraid of disembowelment?”

  “I wasn’t until you mentioned it,” she said, a tapestry of emotion passing over her quickly crumbling face. “Although now I’m worrying about disembowelment AND a double mastectomy so thank you very much.”

  Breeze didn’t let the possibility of disfigurement get her down. In fact, she was even more determined to get us all to her place quickly. We’d almost made it too when the back door to the main house opened and, lit up by a 1950’s lantern, the female version of the Brawny paper towel man stepped out on the stoop.

  Breeze panicked, shoving both the rats and me into the shrubs. I toppled onto the cage, it’s interwoven metal lattice sturdy enough to prevent me from diving head first into Brangelina’s love den.

  “Jesus H. Fuck, Breeze,” I complained, pushing back the branch poking me squarely in the ass.

  “Shhh, quiet,” she said, using her pregnant dog belly to shield us from harm.

  “Breeze, is that you?” A deep female voice called out.

  “Yes, Pat, just me.”

  Then, under her breath, she whispered, “And everything you hate, including a carload of pets and a half naked man.”

  “I think we can all take solace in the fact Breeze didn’t save the broccoli,” I added quietly.

  Breeze struggled to suppress a giggle as she reached behind the bush to smack me. “Shhh.”

  “What’s going on out there?” the suspicious woman asked as she attempted to get her lantern light to shine in our direction.

  “I wouldn’t come out here, Pat. There’s a huge fire up on the hill. So far we’re safe in this part of town, but there’s a ton of smoke and ash coming our way. It’s super unhealthy. I need to get inside myself. If I were you I’d close all your doors and windows and even duct tape around any openings to keep the toxins from getting inside.”

  “Oh, okay. Good idea. Do you want to come in here with me?”

  “You’re so sweet. But no. I’m okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Pat.”

  We waited until we heard her door shut before Breeze helped pull me out of the bushes.

  “You know,” I said, righting myself. “Being a celebrity and all, I’m kind of an expert at ducking and hiding. I could’ve gotten the job done without the fucking shove into the shrubbery.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I pushed you. I’m a horrible human being.” She laughed while delivering her apology, which, in turn, made it sound less genuine. Still, I wasn’t holding a grudge. Breeze had proven to be an unpredictable force of nature.

  She opened the door to her small cottage and I was nearly knocked over for a second time as Hercules decided he wanted to be the first one over the threshold. Being famous, I was used to a certain protocol when it came to entrances. As in—I was always the first one through any door. But this was Breeze’s world, a place where mammals known for licking their own butts had higher priority than me. And after a lifetime of being number one, I was sort of digging this unexpected kick in the nuts.

  I followed Breeze into the darkened room.

  “Just put the rats down there on the floor,” she instructed before pulling the little dog out from under her shirt and shoving him into my hands. “Here, take Sweetpea. I’ll go back and get the cat and the fish.”

  Of course, how could I forget about the cat in a bag and the fish in a bottle? Yesterday, I would have viewed that entire sentence with contempt, but today I smiled at the absurdity of it all. This was as close to an alternate universe as I was ever going to get.

  Extending Sweetpea at arms-length as if he were an alien baby with a poopy diaper, I glanced him over, unsure what Breeze wanted me to do with the little killer. I didn’t plan on holding him indefinitely while she went on a scavenger hunt for the cat and the fish.

  The dog wiggled wildly in my hands, twisting his head like a possessed gremlin before employing his razor-sharp teeth to break free. I yelped as he made contact, dropping the vindictive pup into the kitchen sink. As he bared his teeth, growling viciously, I grabbed for the only weapon I could find to defend myself—a pink spatula—and I waved it around in a display of manliness I was glad no one was around to witness.

  “Stay back,” I warned, ready to either swat him silly or smear frosting over his elfin body.

  As Breeze slipped through the front door, Hercules ran over to her, clearly ratting me out for dropping his nippy brother into the sink.

  “Dude,” I complained to the giant backstabber. I thought we were better friends than that but apparently not.

  Breeze came straight for me and grabbed the pathetic weapon from my hand. Clearly she was one of those types who didn’t believe in corporal punishment.

  “What part of ‘remain quiet’ did you not comprehend?” she asked, grabbing Sweetpea from the sink. “I could hear you squealing from the car.”

  “First of all, I don’t squeal. And secondly, he bit me.”

  “Yes. He bites people on a minute-by-minute basis. Ouch, see. He just bit me too. Big deal. Bee stings hurt worse.”

  “That’s not a selling point, Breeze. Maybe you haven’t been stung recently but that shit lingers.”

  With the hint of a grin she said, “If you’re afraid of a four-pound dog, go stand with Hercules. He’ll protect you.”

  “I’m not scared,” I grumbled, even as I took a step closer to the big dog.

  Breeze securely locked the door before setting the duffle bag onto the bed and producing one very unhappy cat from the canvas depth.

  “I’m so sorry,” she soothed, petting the cat behind the ears. “I know you probably hate me right now, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  “I think it’s enough that you saved her life,” I chimed in.

  “I know that. And you know that. But Lucy here doesn’t know that. As far as she’s concerned I shoved her into a bag just for the fun of it. If I don’t do a little groveling, our little feline friend here is going to pee on every square inch of my apartment.”

  “Fantastic,” I gr
umbled under my breath.

  Tears flooded her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks, and she hastily wiped them away. “Sorry. I’m a little emotional when it comes to these animals. I thought I was going to have to leave them for dead tonight.”

  Her hands shook as she related the story to me. Why she’d initially chosen to put the safety of those animals over her own was a mystery, but it was clear Breeze operated in a whole other mindset. It wasn’t until I watched the cat, after being crammed in a bag all night, stretch up and touch noses with Breeze that I understood the power of compassion. The cat had forgiven her, not because Breeze had thrown money or resources at the problem, but because she’d proven her worth with nothing more than a kindness.

  Breeze caught me staring and shifted uncomfortably. She probably thought I was judging her, when in reality I was judging myself. Maybe if a nurturing, sympathetic hand had been employed in my upbringing, I wouldn’t find this whole scene so foreign.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling every bit the emotional freak I’d just discovered myself to be.

  “It’s okay. I’m a little emotional, is all,” she answered, brushing off the uncomfortable exchange. We were standing close, our faces lit by the phone screen. Suddenly, our eyes met and all reservations fell away. I was inexplicably drawn to her shine, a solar light in the darkness, attracting a convention of moths… me being the biggest one of them all. That positive energy of hers was like a messenger calling me home.

  For the first time in my life I knew exactly where I was supposed to be. This meeting of the minds was no accident. Breeze and I had been brought together for a reason, and I was committed to finding out why.

  “Anyway,” she brightened. “Enough of the ‘what ifs’. We’re all alive because of you, and that’s what needs to be focused on, right?”

  I was no superhero. In fact, I’d stopped to help her more for my own sake than hers.

  “It really wasn’t…” I began humbly denying her assertions, but Breeze had already lost interest, and was off rummaging through drawers in her tiny, dollhouse-sized kitchen.