by Amy Saia
“Oh, God, Emma. It’s no use, don’t you see?” There were tears in his eyes. “Why did you have to challenge them?”
I could only blink, because I was still in shock. I didn’t know what had come over me.
“We have to study some more,” I gasped out, finally. “I want to be prepared next time.”
“No, there will be no next time. You’re not going to the eclipse!”
“What do you mean?” I asked, forcing myself to sit up despite the horrible vertigo that pushed on my brain.
“Plans have changed.” His voice was serious, eyes intense. “You’re leaving town, tonight. No questions asked. Do you understand?”
“Actually, I don’t, because if you’re telling me what I think you are, I’ll never understand.”
“Okay, I’ll make it easy for you,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “They made a new coin, and you’re the primary target, above me. The eclipse is coming soon; hence you are packing your bags and getting out of here tonight. If I have to carry you myself, I will.”
“No,” I said, shoving away from him. “No, I’m not leaving. What happened to everything we said today?”
He let out a sharp breath. “I was humoring you. It was never a real option.”
My heart felt like it was falling into quicksand. “That’s not true. I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth, and furthermore, the last thing I need is for you to be hanging around drawing attention to me. I haven’t spent all these years learning to protect myself just so I could have fun with some stupid teenage girl.”
My mouth opened, bottom lip quivering. I bit down hard. “I’m not stupid, and I know what you’re doing. I’m not leaving.”
I stood up, much slower than I would have liked, and began to hobble down the sidewalk.
He was there waiting in front of me. “Where are you going?”
I wasn’t speaking to him. A useless trick when someone can read your mind.
“You’re going home to pack.”
He was like a mental pickpocket. I sped up my pace. “I was about to get a drink from the water fountain. Do you mind?”
He stood, glaring. The next second I was up in his arms.
“No! William. Let me down!” I struggled against his strong grip.
“It’s sure going to look funny, a girl floating around by herself.” He made a beeline to the Pontiac and yanked open the driver’s side door after putting me down on my feet. “Get in.”
“No.”
“Get in.”
“No!”
It was a standoff, and I was not going to let him dictate any part of my future, especially if it had to do with leaving him. My throat was swollen with grief, cheeks red with anger. “I am not leaving you.”
“You have to. I’ll rip your room apart looking for that coin and turn myself in.”
My legs turned to jelly.
I knew what he was doing. The horrible fate he had accepted.
Quickly, I created a picture in my mind of myself digging up the garden and placing the coin inside a hole and filling it up again. I tried to make my face looked strained so he would assume I was protecting the thought.
For a second, I became scared thinking he’d figured me out, but then watched in amazement as he faded through the car and rushed off in a blur down the street. He’d bought it.
“Sorry Gran,” I muttered, fingers gripping onto the July heated car frame.
Now what? I asked myself, scanning the length of the square. Let’s face it; I was SOL as Dad used to say. So out of luck. I had to find a way to get rid of the coin before William got his hands on it, because if he did, all choices were extinguished. I’d heard it cross through his mind before he left. Get her out of town, turn myself in—I was always their target.
I turned and saw Jesse’s black Camaro sitting in front of Phil’s Records and straightened my shoulders. Time to kiss ass, again.
It was like déjà vu, with him pulling records out of boxes and all. Only I wasn’t soaking wet and crying. No, I was something else this time—full of fire, determined, ready to sell my soul.
“Hey,” I said, walking up to him inside the store with my hands in my back pockets. He didn’t say anything, but I saw the grin spread across his face like a slow sunrise.
“Need anything?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Oh, yeah, you could say that.”
“Go for it.”
“I need you to—” God, Emma, pucker up already. “I need you to sell that coin.” My only hope was that he had a real person lined up.
“That train may have already left the station, sugar.”
Grabbing a Perry Como record, I moved to the appropriate bin to shelve. Jesse followed. “Anyway, Emma, I thought you said you didn’t have it.”
“I guess I lied.”
“Do that often?” His hands pushed aside the spot I was searching for.
“Not really.”
“Only to me then.”
“Only to you.”
“And you want my help?”
Curse, curse, curse. Swallow. “Yes.”
He grabbed a box and broke it down with one upward kick of his knee. “Okay. I’d be happy to do it. But under one condition.”
“What’s that?” My heart beat like a lead pendulum.
Jesse turned to meet my eyes, reaching across to touch my cheek with a warm thumb. “You go to New York with me.”
Checkmate. Crack. Shatter. “New York, right. Okay. But I have to see the transaction or no deal.”
“Great.” He was all smiles now, beaming. “This is great!” He lifted me up by the waist and swung me around in a circle. “I gotta get some stuff together, and we can get out of here in just few days.
“That soon?”
“Sure, why not?”
I lowered my head and felt the wave of loss spread through me like a slow landslide. It was what I had to do—there was no other choice. I would do the same thing a million times if asked; my love was the kind that begged sacrifice or it wasn’t love.
“No reason. I guess it doesn’t matter when we go.”
“Sweet. Hand me that KISS record over there.” I did and watched as he shoved it in front of Doris Day. “I live for that.”
He grabbed my hand and led me to the back storeroom. One flip of a switch and a shop light flickered on, showing towers of boxes around a small office area. His jacket hung on a hook by a half-sized refrigerator. He grabbed it and stretched out his arms to slip it on, giving me a couple of lurid eyebrow raises during the process. Then he grabbed my hand again.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“What, now?”
“Yeah. Phil’s out for the day, and I’m officially giving my final notice. Or getting fired. Whichever you choose.”
We walked back to the front, and I waited for him to shut off the lights. “Wait,” he said, hesitating by the front door. “I gotta do it. It’ll be my goodbye note, you know?”
Sprinting, he jumped over the counter, grabbed a record and pulled it out of its sleeve. A few seconds later a loud crackle sounded on the overhead speakers, followed by the crunchiest guitar I’d ever heard—Black Sabbath. “Oh yeah!”
We could still hear it outside, it was so loud. Springvale was a quiet town with life hushed in mute submission, not prepared for the Jesse Limons of the world. He was still laughing when we stepped over the curb.
“Gettin’ in?” he asked, pulling out his car keys.
“Actually, I have the Pontiac down the street. You follow me home, okay?”
“Okay.” He hopped in and gave a salute.
Rain started to fall again. Turning around, I lumbered down the sidewalk, my mind s
wirling with crazy and incurable thoughts: how much it was going to hurt when I had to leave. It was different from death—it was emotional purgatory, with never-ending ache. I’d never get over William, not in a whole lifetime of events and endless minutes. But just knowing he existed would keep me. If he died now, I’d be lost forever and as good as dead myself. Getting rid of the coin was the only way.
I opened the driver’s side door with a thoughtful yank of the handle, and slid inside with a slump.
William spoke to me. “It’s a good plan, Emma. I couldn’t have come up with a better one myself.”
My hands shook as I started the engine. I couldn’t bear to look at him.
William continued, “You leave town, he’ll give the coin to the right people. It’s perfect. Only, I’ll leave it up to you to decide if Limon is someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t show concern for my future now. You’ve forced me into this.”
“Perhaps I have. Only I’m sorry I allowed you to—”
“What, fall in love? Oh, you had no choice in that, so don’t break a sweat worrying about it. I was in love the moment I saw you in the library.”
Jesse honked behind me, and I pulled out too fast.
“What makes you think that I don’t love you as well?” asked William.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Don’t say it now, William, please.”
“I’ve roamed this town for two decades, never being touched by anyone until now. I wouldn’t care, wouldn’t demand these things if I didn’t love you the way I do.”
“Stop it!”
“I’m truly sorry, Emma. Forgive me for putting you through this.”
I held in a sob. “If you loved me, you’d at least let me stay and help out.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Let’s rethink this. You show me what to study and I’ll do it. We’ll make this work.”
“I’m sorry, but no.”
“That’s it then? Just give up?” I was driving too fast, forgetting to look at each intersection.
“Slow down, Emma.”
“No! What do I care if I live or die? Perhaps it’d be best if I ended it. It would solve our problems, right? I’d be a ghost like you.”
“Ridiculous. Get a hold of yourself.”
I was mad now, pressing the pedal down like it was meant to grind the pavement. Jesse was right behind, keeping up with me, no problem.
William spoke in a deliberate, low voice. “Pull over and we’ll talk.”
I was beyond that. I turned onto Oak with a loud squeal of tires that both slid and gripped at the rain-drenched road. “It’s either that or go with Jesse. True, he isn’t a gentleman, but at least he believes in me. He needs me like I need you. Isn’t that funny? Life is messed up.”
“Emma, I’m going to yank you out of that seat if you don’t slow down.” His voice was a controlled calm, frantic in the undercurrent.
I let out a slow breath, fingers still gripped around the wheel in a crazy need to go faster, harder, so that something would happen, like Superman turning the world round to save Lois Lane. Trees blurred past the open window, fresh raindrops spat in to soak my face and hair.
“It’s useless,” I whispered, slamming my foot down on the brakes, eyes closed in resignation.
That’s when I felt the car spin out of control and heard William’s intake of breath. I opened my eyes and saw it—a blur of black coming at us—full speed. My hands jerked at the steering wheel, but it was too late.
Everything in my vision slowed down. Rain flew up in little droplets from Jesse’s squealing tires, two S’s flashing in like silver blurs. I heard the driver’s side window shatter, and felt shards of glass prick the side of my cheek and neck like little knives. Next came the sickening thud of my skull slamming into the metal door frame as the car swung back around. Blackness surrounded me and everything fell away.
15: You’re My Angel
The steady beeping of a monitor lifted me out of the darkness. Then there was pain, tons and tons of pain. I tried to sit up, but that only made my head throb, so I lay back down onto the stiff and crinkly bed. My eyes refused to open without deep concentration, and when they did, light cut through like bright strobes.
“What’s wrong with me?” My voice sounded and felt like sand paper. “Where am I?”
Somebody spoke—a woman. “Are you awake, Emma? Thank God. Just lay back and we’ll get you something for the pain.”
I forced my eyes open, and worked hard to focus through the blurriness to the faces beyond—two women. Looking down, I saw numerous IVs hanging off my arms, surrounded by bruises and scratches on every exposed inch of my skin. An image flowed through my mind of a vehicle coming toward me—the sound of horrid screeching tires and crushing metal and shattering glass; someone’s voice crying out to me in agony. Only, I couldn’t remember who the voice belonged to.
A nurse came in to check my temperature, flashing a light into my pupils to check their dilation. A clear IV bag was changed, and I had the feeling of warm comfort flowing through my body.
“That’s right, baby, don’t try to talk. You let those nurses take good care of you.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, making another effort to remember the women sitting in the room: an older woman with warm brown eyes and a younger sandy-haired woman clutching at her hands looking worried. Next I caught sight of a young man with intense blue eyes sitting in the back corner, looking remorseful. Our eyes met for a moment, but hard as I tried I could not place him. The drugs finally did their job and took me back into painless sleep, and once again I was falling.
Waking up later, I saw the afternoon sun had begun its descent outside the half-shaded windows, causing a coldness to reside in the sterile room. I was dying for a sip of water to ease the dryness in my throat. It was mostly my head keeping me from being able to sit up—it felt like a throbbing bowling ball.
I moaned, lifting a heavy arm to the bedside table where a mug of water sat. If I could just get the straw and hold it to my lips, perhaps a few drops would fall out and ease my thirst.
“Hold on there, little one. I can get that for you.” It was the young man from earlier. I watched as he made it across the room from the country-style armchair over in the corner. “Is this what you needed?” he asked, grabbing hold of the water jug.
I scratched out, “Yes.”
He lifted the straw and let its contents drop through my lips slowly. After four strawfuls he put it back. He brushed the hair away from my face. “You’ve been sleeping. Does your head feel better now?”
“No,” I said with a strained smile to answer his own.
Was he a doctor? Couldn’t be. He was in regular street clothes, or at least, he looked classic in Levi’s and a nicely fitted flannel shirt. What must I look like? Probably not so great if the way I felt indicated anything.
“Who are you?” I asked, scanning his handsome face again.
His sucked in a breath. “You don’t remember me?”
I couldn’t shake my head in response. Instead I had to settle with a mumbled, “No.”
“And your family—the women that were in here earlier—do you remember them?”
“Not really. You said they’re my family?”
He sat in the chair next to the hospital bed. “Do you remember the accident?”
I thought about it, the images recalled earlier, and it made me shudder. “Yes.”
“If only I hadn’t been bothering you so much, none of this would have happened. It’s my own damn fault.”
I wished that I could turn a little more to watch him as he talked. “You were with me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Who are y
ou?”
Pause. “Someone you should never have met. Nothing but trouble has come from knowing me.”
“If you were in the car with me, does that mean we are together?”
“We are together, but not in the way you might think. I’m not a regular man, Emma.”
“How long have we known each other?”
Emma sounded like an okay name for a girl. Maybe too nice though. The image of me being some hot chick flew out the window.
“Too long,” he muttered and stood up to grab a gentle hold of my hand, causing a fuzzy, electric zap.
My eyes flew up to his in surprise.
“What was that?”
Instantly he pulled his hand away. “It’s the drugs.”
Drugs couldn’t possibly make a person feel that good. “Are you sure you’re not my boyfriend or something?”
A nurse came in with a fresh mug of water and another blanket for the bed. When she pulled out a thermometer and stuck it beneath my tongue, my handsome visitor walked right through her solid flesh to stand by my side.
“Not a boyfriend,” he replied to my widened eyes.
I held in a gasp. What was going on here? Did I die? I tried to think rationally—not an easy task with my head throbbing—but there had to be some explanation.
After the nurse exited I met his eyes. “Are you an angel?”
“Yeah. Sure. I’m your angel. I’ll stay here to protect you until you tell me to go. How about that?”
If I could have jumped up and down I would have. “Okay. I like it.”
“For now,” he announced, “let’s get you warm.” He pulled the extra blanket over my legs and tucked in the sides.
My own angel. This was a good start to a new life, I could feel it. He said he would stay until I told him to go. What more could a girl ask for? “Will you tell me what I was like before this? Was I pretty?”
