by Boone Brux
At this point the pillow became a growing hindrance. Sure it might break the fall if I missed the next trampoline but it was tough keeping my balance. I yanked the pillow off my chest and attached it to my wrist again. Bounce, bounce and I landed on the smaller trampoline.
The end was in sight. Only three balance beams and a trip around the track. I jumped down and mounted the first beam. The deep roar of a motor revved and suddenly a blast of air hit me from the right side, almost pushing me off. My body tilted to the left and my foot lifted.
“Ahhh!” I did one of those tottering will she or won’t she fall stances. The wind cut off my breath.
Coherent words were impossible. The arm opposite my lifted foot shot out in an effort to not fall. It was only a about a yard drop, but to me it might as well have been a cliff. I hovered, my body splayed like a five pointed star. The pillow lifted and I knew I was going over. Reaching deep, I dipped into the ninja skills I knew lurked inside me, and lowered my foot to the balance beam. Thank God for ample hips. I shoved it into the wind, which brought me fully onto my narrow perch. Now balanced, I yanked the pillow to me and slammed it against my chest. I looked to my right. Nate stood next to a fan. The thing was ginormous. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Probably because I hadn’t suspected treachery.
Refocusing on my course, I tucked the pillow head under my chin once again and scooted along the beam. At the end, I jumped down and mounted the next. The wind continued to batter me but I was too determined. At this point it could have been a frickin’ tornado and I wouldn’t have fallen.
When I made it to the end of the last balance beam the wind stopped and the roar of the fan died. I didn’t look at Nate. I was too close to conquering this mutha of an obstacle course. I jogged forward, ready for anything he threw at me. But nothing happened. And when I crossed the finish line, Nate stood waiting with a genuine look of surprise, and might I say admiration on his face.
I stopped in front of him and dropped the pillow, glaring at him. “Can’t handle being a reaper, eh? Well suck it, Cramer. Looks like you’ve got a new partner.”
With that I strode across the gym to the locker room. Yeah, there was a new angel of death in town.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
By six o’clock that night all my righteous indignation had evaporated into a mass of bruises, rope burns, and pulled muscles. A long, cylindrical black and blue patch stretched across my lower back where the turnstile smacked me. And trying to remove my sports bra had turned into a painful wrestling match that left me lying on the bed, whimpering and defeated.
“Vella!” For once I was grateful for her casual attitude on dropping by at all hours of the day. “I need help.” At that point I had no pride. All I wanted was a hot shower and if that meant exposing myself to my best friend, well, so be it. “Vella!”
The door to my bedroom sprung open. “What’s wrong?”
I wiggled the arm I’d gotten free from the spandex torture. “Help.”
“Oh my giddy aunt.” She closed the door and walked to the bed. “What happened?”
“I can’t get out of my bra.”
“I can see that. I mean where did you get all those bruises? You look worse than I did after the greased pig catching contest at the fair.”
“I had to run the obstacle course today. Special stress on obstacle.” I rolled to my back, one arm still pinned to the side of my head. “Everything hurts.”
“Can you sit up?”
I rocked forward a couple of times but the muscles in my stomach lit off a loud protest. “No.”
“How about rolling to your side?”
“Noooo.”
Vella propped a hand on her hip. “Can you lift both arms over your head?”
“Think of me as a vegetable. I am incapable of movement and thought at this point.”
“All right.” Vella held out her arms with her palms facing me. This meant she had an idea. Whether it would cause me excruciating pain was still to be seen. “I’m going to help you sit up. Then I’m going to work that sports contraption off you.”
“K.”
“I apologize right now if I happen to touch your boobs. Copping a feel is not my intention.”
My boobs had seen a lot of action lately. Too bad none of it was of an amorous nature. “Noted.”
She rolled me onto my back and I groaned. After climbing onto the bed, she shoved her hands under my shoulders and hefted me into a sitting position. My groan morphed into a long moan. Each stomach muscle tightened and protested. Who knew I had so many muscles. From the pain radiating through me I swore I’d been born with twice the amount.
“I’m too young to be in this much agony.” Another whimper squeezed from me. I’m not a very good patient. Kind of whiny.
“You need a long hot shower and an adult beverage to relax your muscles.” Vella forced my arm down and through the chest band of the sports bra, popping free from the spandex jail. With a quick swoosh, she yanked the garment free. Even my bra flab hurt. “Now lay back.”
I tried to ease myself back but my quivering muscles were having none of it. I hit the bed like a falling bolder and bounced a few times. Vella climbed off the mattress and lifted my leg, extracting the running shoe. I laid there, bare breasted, unable to manage a modest arm across my chest.
“Lift your butt so I can get your pants off.”
Right. Like that was going to happen. When I didn’t move, she shook her head and yanked my yoga pants, dragging my undies with them. Okay, I wasn’t hurting that much. I curled my fingers around the cotton waistband and held on. It had been a long time since anybody had seen me naked and if it was going to happen again, I didn’t want it to be with my best friend.
A final tug and I was free from all my stretchy workout clothes. With great effort, I rolled to my side and pushed myself up. “You’re a good friend.”
“I know.” Vella tossed the pile of clothes into my laundry basket and then looked at me. She cocked her head. “For having three kids you’ve got some nice tits.”
“As much as I appreciate the compliment, I don’t want to talk about my boobs with you.”
“I’m just saying, a lot of women don’t keep their perk. You’re lucky.”
Ignoring her, I pointed to my open closet. “Robe, please.”
She lifted my fluffy white robe from the hook and draped it over her arm. Then she held out her hands. “Up you go.”
I locked fingers with her and allowed her to pull me to my feet. More pain radiated through me. What was the saying? The second day was always the worst. I couldn’t imagine my body hurting more unless somebody set me on fire. “Thank you.”
“Go take a hot shower and I’ll fix something to eat.” She slid the robe up my arms and settled it on my shoulders. “You should relax the rest of the night.”
Pulling the robe closed, I nodded. “Okay.” I straightened and grimaced. “Thanks again for your help.”
She waved me away. “Go.”
I shuffled to the bathroom and locked myself inside. Turning the water as hot as it would go, I dropped the robe and climbed in. Though I couldn’t actually say the heat eased my pain, it certainly loosened some of the tightness.
My hand brushed the two pendants lying against my chest. I held them between my index finger and thumb and gently rubbed them. I wasn’t convinced the raven charm had supernatural powers, but I was willing to invest a little effort to find out. Forcing myself to relax, I concentrated on the charm and let the steaming water flow over me. After a few seconds the sensation of being stroked with feathers bushed across my skin. I continued to rub, enjoying the feel. The tension in my neck and shoulders eased. After another minute the sensation faded, taking with it, a little of my pain.
Jets of water pummeled my back. There was no doubt I still hurt but not as much as before I’d entered the shower. Maybe there was more to the charm than I’d originally thought. Maybe there was still more to discover. I really hoped so since I didn’t get everlasting b
eauty and strength when I became a reaper.
After twenty bliss-filled minutes the water turned cold. I shut off the shower, feeling a lot better. Another ten minutes found me in the kitchen, stomach growling, and throat parched.
Vella and Bronte were busy cutting up a variety of cheese, fruit, and vegetables, laying them on a platter.
“It looks like a snacks for dinner,” I said. Truly, it was one of my favorite meals. Who didn’t love hors d’oeuvres? It was like a party without all the work.
“Quick and easy,” Vella said. She turned, holding the tray. My mouth watered. “I hope you don’t mind me mixing up a little of my homemade salsa too.”
“No, I love your salsa.” My eyes cut to my daughter. “And you’re helping?”
Bronte glanced up. “Yeah, I know you had a hard day.”
Her smile was sweet and innocent. I was instantly on alert. “That’s so sweet of you to help.” I shuffled to one of the chairs at the table and sat. “It really takes the pressure off knowing you’re willing to pitch in.” Bronte’s smile tightened just a fraction. “And to do it out of the kindness of your heart, not expecting anything in return.” My features slackened. “It really means a lot.”
“Sure.” The word rushed out, pitched a bit higher than natural. “We have to help out each other. Give and take.”
“Exactly.” I nodded, continuing to hold her gaze.
She blinked several times before looking back at the tray of cheese she was arranging. “But…”
Here it came. She wanted something. Rarely did Bronte do anything without a calculated reason. “But nothing,” I said, cutting her off. “You’re awesome. Best daughter ever.”
“Yeah—yeah—that’s true.” She nodded. “I’m a pretty great daughter.” Her head continued to bounce like a bobble-head doll. “Which is why you should let me go to Payton Alexander’s Halloween party.”
Okay, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. “Who’s Payton Alexander?”
Vella set a bottle of Corona in front of me. “Doesn’t his daddy own the furniture store on C Street?”
“The guy who screams in his TV commercials?” I took a drink, stalling for time.
“Yeah, that’s him, but Payton isn’t weird like that.” Bronte placed several mouth-watering selections on a small plate and set it in front of me. A silent bribe to sway my vote. “Actually he’s really shy.”
“Cute?” Vella asked.
A flush crept across Bronte’s cheeks, telling me exactly what I needed to know. She shrugged. “Yeah, he’s all right.”
That meant gorgeous in Bronte lingo. “Huh.” I took another drink but didn’t say anything.
“So, can I go?”
I stared at my daughter. “Who else is going?”
“Fang and William.”
Bronte’s best friends. Fang was a cute little Chinese girl with a serious case of the Goth. Constantly dressed in black and skulls, she looked more like a reaper than I did. William was the nerd of nerds but cute as all get out. I was fairly certain he had a crush on Bronte. Not that she noticed—or that she let on. “Is that all?”
“And Kelly Huff.” Bronte continued to needlessly rearrange the bits of cheese on the tray. “She’s got her license and offered to drive us.”
Red warning lights went off in my mind. “Kelly Huff? When did you guys become friends?” From what I knew of Kelly she was the most popular girl in tenth grade. Queen of the in-crowd. And a mean girl. She and Bronte butted heads a few times, so I didn’t understand their new camaraderie. Then again, who really understood the mind of a teenage girl?
“We’re not friends.” Bronte plopped in the chair and bit into a cracker, chewed and swallowed. “She likes William.”
“The Queen of Mean likes dear, sweet William?” Vella asked. “She’ll eat him alive.”
Bronte snorted. “Yeah, when I told him, he broke out in hives.”
I traced the blue pattern that ringed my plate. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going to a party with a bunch of teenagers.”
“Who else would I go with?” My daughter’s head gave a little shake. The indignant kind that told me I was pretty much an idiot. “I’m a teenager. My friends are teenagers.”
The urge to tell her no pushed against my throat and it was difficult to repress. Trying to be reasonable, I bit back my retort. It wasn’t that long ago I was in high school. Yeah, the reason why everything seemed so important or monumental escaped me now, but I was trying to be understanding. “Will there be chaperones at the party? And by chaperones I don’t mean older siblings. Parents, grandparents, a youth minster perhaps.”
“I think his parents are going to be there or next door at another Halloween party.” Bronte rested her arms on the tabled and leaned toward me. “Please? It’s like the first thing I’ve asked to go to since dad died.”
Oh, she was good. Playing the dead dad card. Even though I couldn’t argue the fact she’d basically been housebound the past year, I still wasn’t comfortable letting her go. “Let me think about it.”
She groaned. “Come on, Mom.”
“If you need an answer now, it’ll be no.” I leaned back in the chair and winced when the bruise on my back hit one of the wooden rungs. “But I promise I’ll think about it.”
She rolled her eyes and stood. “Fine.” Turning, she skulked toward the door. “No matter what I’m not trick or treating with Thing One and Thing Two this year.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” Grandma volunteered to take Bryce and Breck around her neighborhood. She was militant about checking Halloween candy for razor blades and straight pins. Plus, then I wouldn’t have to shiver in the cold while my sons strategically hit every house within a five block radius. “Why don’t you have your own party here?”
She stopped but didn’t look at me. “What’s the point? Everybody will be at Payton’s party.”
With that last jab of guilt she left the kitchen. I sighed and took a long tug on my bottle. My daughter had never been into what was cool or following the popular crowd. It was one of the things I loved about her. From a very young age she’d marched to her own drum. It looked like those days were at an end.
Vella slid into Bronte’s vacated chair. “You gonna let her go?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Teenagers, a party, and driving is never a good idea.” Vella didn’t have kids but she had a ton of nieces and nephews. A few of them she’d practically raised. “Do you think I should?”
I expected some of her southern philosophy. Maybe a “You’ve got to let your kids kill their own rats.” Instead she cocked her head and said, “Hell no.”
“Why?”
“Besides the fact this Kelly Huff is obviously using Bronte to sink her claws into our sweet William, you’ve already lost your husband to a car accident. Do you really want to take a chance on your daughter’s life? Especially with all the crazy people out on Halloween?”
Her words felt like a slap but she’d voiced the exact concerns I’d been thinking. My memories of Jeff’s accident were still so vivid they took my breath away. Imagining that with one of my children made me want to vomit. “No, I don’t.”
“She’ll probably hate you for a while but she’ll get over it.” Vella reached across the table and patted my hand. “The last thing you want is to reap your own child.”
“Wow, you don’t pull any punches.” I gripped her hand and squeezed, letting her know I wasn’t angry. “But you’re right.” I shook my head, searching for the right words. “I wouldn’t come back from that.”
Pulling her hand from mine, she sat back in the chair. “None of us would, Lisa.”
Silence stretched between us. I popped another hunk of cheese in my mouth and chewed. Swallowing, I looked at her. “You’re a good friend.”
“I know.” She lifted her bottle and drank. Lowering it, she said, “You are too, despite this whole Angel of Death thing.”
“Thanks—I think.” Though the shower eased some o
f my aches, my body still throbbed. I sat forward and rolled my shoulders. “I’m not twenty anymore.” I sighed. “What if I can’t do this reaper job?”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I could be killed or maimed.” I hesitated. “Or humiliated.” I rubbed my hands over my face. “God knows I’ve already done that enough.”
“Listen.” Vella tapped her bright pink nail on the table. “This might not be the best situation or your dream job, but it’s going to put food on the table. Hell, I’d let you come work for me but business has been slow.”
Though Vella was my best friend, the thought of working at her hair salon, listening to Jonathan gossip all day made the hair on my neck prickle. At times I wasn’t sure how Vella and I became such good friends. I didn’t care about celebrity gossip, make up, or name brands. Because of her husband’s high position at the oil company she was involved in a lot of charities and social events. Whereas I attended hockey games and constructed paper-mache turkey heads for school plays. We were the epitome of opposites attracting. I think that’s why we worked.
“Thanks.” I propped my elbows on the table, not wanting to put pressure on my back. “You’re right. At this point I need to tough it out.” I attempted a cheery smile. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be the best reaper this side of the Arctic…once I stop hurting.”
“Have another beer. It will help cure what ails you.”
“I doubt it. Besides, I need a good night sleep tonight.” My cheery smile tightened into a humorless grin. “God only knows what’s in store for me tomorrow.”
“Did Nate give you any clue?”
“Only that we hit the seventh. I hope that’s not some metaphorical term for one of the circles of Hell.”
