by S. G. Rogers
“I can't imagine what you've been through!”
“If you ever need to talk to someone, I'm available.”
Plastering a bashful grin on his face, Jon glanced at Fred. From the expression on Fred’s face, the unexpected outpouring of sympathy wasn’t the result he'd had in mind. When Brett waded into the group, his eyes became narrow little slits of burning laser beams.
“Excuse me, girls,” she said.
She slipped her arm through Jon’s and steered him away.
“Morning,” Jon said.
“Fred told us about your dad disappearing and all. When I remember what I said to you about divorce, I could die! I'm so sorry.”
“You don't have to be sorry. I didn't want anyone to know.”
“Of course not, Jon. You were suffering in silence. The whole school is talking about it.”
“Great.”
“I want you to know I'm here for you,” Brett said.
She gave his arm a final squeeze before she left for her homeroom. Jon longed to wring Fred's neck. Brett meant well, of course, but she was the last person Jon wanted to feel sorry for him. Admiration, respect, and attraction would have been much more preferable.
Casey joined the pity party at lunch break. “I was sorry to hear about your father. That must have been rough.”
“Yeah,” Jon said. “Thanks.”
“If you don't mind me asking, did you ever find out what happened to him?”
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Jon said.
“Try me sometime. You'd be surprised what I'd believe.”
“What's your position on alternate dimensions?”
“The concept hasn't been scientifically disproven. I would say I'm open to the idea.”
“Well...don't let it get out. People will think you're crazy,” Jon said.
Casey was sincere, but Jon couldn't risk telling him the truth. At any rate, he had another pressing concern. The afternoon's detention with Fred was looming closer, and he wondered how he could ever keep his promise to his mother.
****
Mr. Dace met Fred and Jon in the parking lot after school, where he’d laid out everything they needed to wash and wax his car. Fred backed away, horrified. “You can't make me do that.”
“You'll do it or you're off the football team for the rest of the season,” Mr. Dace said.
Fred snatched a sponge and a bucket. “My father's gonna hear about this.”
Mr. Dace laughed. “He's the one who suggested it.”
When Jon guffawed, Mr. Dace’s smile faded. Count on Mr. Dace not to show favorites, he thought.
“Get to work. I'll be back in a half hour to check on your progress. Oh, and don’t forget the bottle of chrome polish. I've got spoke rims,” Mr. Dace said.
Fred moved to one side of the car and Jon took the other. They soaped up the sedan without speaking. As Jon rinsed the car with the garden hose Mr. Dace had provided, he couldn't resist taking a potshot.
“I should thank you, Fred, for sharing my newspaper article. It's incredible how supportive everyone has been, especially Brett Tanner.”
Fred snatched the garden hose out of Jon’s hands. “Gimme that.” He dialed the water pressure on “full” to clean the rims, and sprayed Jon on purpose in the process.
“Hey!”
“Oops. You should go out for the football team. We could use another water boy,” Fred sneered.
“When're you going to drop dead, Marion?”
“Don’t call me that!”
Fred shut off the water flow and tossed the hose to the ground. He lurched toward Jon with clenched fists and blood in his eyes. Jon ducked the first punch and parried the second. Unfortunately, Fred grabbed his shirt and pinned him to the car. Before his fist could connect with Jon’s face, Fred was distracted by the screech of tires and a loud, horrible-sounding crash in the street behind him. The two boys split apart and went to help.
The driver of an old car had swerved, jumped the sidewalk, and hit a palm tree. Gasoline was leaking all over the street, and Jon could smell smoke from an electrical short.
“Call nine-one-one,” he yelled to Fred.
While Fred whipped out his cell phone, Jon sprinted to the fire extinguisher mounted on the front of the administration building. After tearing it from its moorings, he sped back to the smoking, twisted mess in the street. The car's engine was exposed and the hood was crumpled upward. Although Jon had no idea where the electrical short might be, he lifted the hood as best he could and coated the engine with chemical fire suppressant.
Fred ran over. “The paramedics are coming.”
Jon tried to open the driver's door, but it was locked. The elderly driver was slumped over the wheel, and his female passenger appeared to be unconscious as well.
“The door is locked and I smell smoke,” Jon said.
Fred grabbed the extinguisher. “Cover your eyes!”
He used the extinguisher to smash out the backseat window and Jon reached in to unlock the driver’s door. After lifting the elderly man from the car, they carried him to a grassy area several yards away. Although the man’s face was streaked with blood from a gash in his forehead, Jon thought he seemed strangely familiar.
“Now the girl,” Jon said.
“I’m on it.”
Fred single-handedly carried the female passenger to the grass next to the driver. Suddenly a mighty hissing noise came from the wreckage and the engine exploded. Beads of glass and other debris skittered in every direction. Fred and Jon shielded the crash victims with their bodies. Afterward, Jon noticed Fred’s hands and face were scratched.
“Are you okay?” Jon asked.
“Yeah, I think so. Except my ears are ringing.”
“I think that’s the sound of paramedics on their way. Why don't you flag them down?” Jon suggested.
Fred moved in front of the wreck and waved his arms at the approaching emergency vehicles. Just then, the girl woke. As she tried to push herself up on one elbow, her hoodie fell back and Jon gaped in astonishment. “Kira?”
“Jon Hansen. We finally found you.” She winced and her hand moved to her forehead.
He helped her to lie back. “You need to stay still.”
The elderly man began to mutter incoherently and wave his arms in the air. Jon gripped his hand. “It’s going to be all right, sir. Help is on the way.”
To his surprise, the glint of a transporter cuff was visible underneath the sleeve of the man’s jacket and he wore a ring with the head of a green-eyed leopard. Suddenly Ophelia flared and Jon had a flash of recognition. “Dorsit?”
Fred hovered nearby. “Paramedics and police are here.”
Dorsit's eyes opened. “You’re in danger, dragon wizard,” he murmured just before he passed out again.
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of activity. Mr. Dace returned, and in addition to the paramedics and police, several students and other school personnel came to watch. Casey appeared with a digital camera and snapped photos. Not too long thereafter, Dorsit was loaded into an ambulance and taken away. Kira’s head still ached, so the paramedics called an ambulance for her, too.
“Don't talk to anyone about Yden,” Jon whispered to Kira while they waited. “If anyone asks you questions, say you can't remember.”
Kira nodded, but her face was quite pale. Worried, Jon stopped one of the paramedics. “Is she going to be okay?”
“I think so, but a doctor needs to look her over,” he replied.
Kira’s ambulance arrived shortly thereafter.
“I'll see you at the hospital,” Jon told her.
He released her hand so the paramedics could load her onto the vehicle. Fred and Jon gave their names to the police, who were taking witness reports. More careful this time, Jon stuck to the simplest of facts. The question of whether Jon knew the victims never arose. After the police dismissed Fred and Jon, Principal Lloyd beckoned them over.
“You two get cleaned up and then meet me in m
y office,” he said.
As the principal headed toward the administration building, Jon and Fred exchanged a glance.
“Can't catch a break around here,” Fred muttered.
“Looks that way,” Jon replied.
In the bathroom, Fred washed his scratches and Jon shook glass out of his hair.
“What'd the old guy call you? A dangerous dragon lizard?” Fred asked.
Jon forced a laugh. “Yeah. He got a big knock on the head, I guess.”
Chapter Twelve
A Warrior Princess at Pacific High
Fred and Jon sat in Principal Lloyd’s office while he paced back and forth. “I don't know where you two got the idea to act like heroes, but you could have been blown up. What would I have told your parents? They need to know you're safe here at school.”
Casey barged into the room. “Principal Lloyd, can I get a photo of Jon and Fred for the school newspaper? The local paper wants a copy, too.”
“Step outside for a few minutes, Casey,” Principal Lloyd said. “We're not quite finished.”
“Oh. Okay.” He shuffled out into the hall to wait.
Fred leaned back in his chair, suddenly cocky. “So are you gonna commune our sentences, Mr. L?” he asked, lacing his hands behind his head.
Principal Lloyd sighed. “As it turns out, yes. Your detention has been commuted to two days.”
Fred moved his hand as if to give Jon a high five, but he stopped when he realized it was Jon.
“Your behavior, although reckless, was a credit to the school,” Principal Lloyd continued, grudgingly. “The paramedics told me those people would have died in the explosion if you hadn't been there.”
“Cool,” Fred gloated.
When Fred and Jon burst out of the principal’s office, Casey made them pose for a couple of photos. For Jon, it felt weird to be standing next to Fred without getting punched, shoved, or insulted in some fashion. Afterward, the three boys walked out of the administration building together. Jon wondered how long their uneasy truce would last. He decided to test the waters.
“That was a pretty smart move, Fred, using the fire extinguisher to smash the car window,” he said.
Fred shrugged. “I saw it on TV once. No big deal. You're the one who got the extinguisher in the first place.”
“The car exploded anyway,” Jon said. “Fat lot of good it did.”
“You don't know that,” Casey said. “It might’ve bought the few extra seconds you needed to get those people out.”
The moment of camaraderie passed and Fred ambled off toward the football field with a muttered “See ya.”
“I've got to go to the hospital,” Jon told Casey, as soon as Fred was out of earshot. “Can you follow me over in your car?”
“Are you okay?” Casey asked, alarmed.
“Yeah. It's nothing like that. It’s just that I knew those people in the crash and I have to talk to them. The hospital might not let me in their rooms unless I'm a relative. If I have to sneak in, I could use your help.”
“Are you kidding? I may have a baby face, but I can be wily when necessary.”
****
The hospital was always busy, but Jon knew his way around. He and Casey went to the admissions desk, where a young, pretty clerk was on duty.
“Hey there, Darla,” Jon said. “How are you?”
“Jon! What are you doing here? Do you want me to page your mother?”
“No, don't bother her. I was checking on the condition of two car-crash victims who were brought in a little while ago. An old man and a girl.”
Darla gave him a disapproving look. “You know I can't tell you anything unless you’re a relative.”
Casey butted in. “Jon rescued those two from certain death. That makes them related in certain cultures.”
Darla's eyes widened as she gaped at Jon. “Did you really?”
“Well...yes,” Jon said.
Darla punched up some information on her computer screen. “The girl is doing fine physically, but she seems to have amnesia. She’s in room 512. You can go see her if you want.”
“What about the old man who was brought in at the same time?” Jon asked.
“Mr. Dorsit is stable, but he’s fading in and out of consciousness. He sustained a head injury and his doctor has him on fluids. He’s on the fourth floor, but access is restricted.”
“Thanks, Darla,” Jon said. “You’re the best.”
Casey and Jon headed for the elevators.
“Darla is way cute,” Casey said. “You think she'd go out with a high school honor student?”
“I dunno,” Jon replied. “You'd have to ask her husband.”
They took the elevator to the fourth floor. As casually as possible, Jon stole a look at the nurse's station. “Rats. Nurse Patton is on duty.”
“Problem?”
“She's known as General Patton by the staff. She’d never let me bend the rules. Can you create a distraction?”
“I could interview her for the school newspaper if I had something to write with.”
Jon pulled out his pocket sketchbook. “Will this do? But if it looks like I'm about to get caught, I want you to split. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“Are you going to tell me why this ruse is so important?”
“Dorsit knows something about my dad.”
“Did you tell that to the police?”
“They wouldn’t believe me, and the last time I talked to the police it ended up in the newspapers. No offense, but I don't trust reporters.”
“Jon, I hate to play hardball here, but if you want my help you're going to have to throw me a bone.”
“It's complicated, Casey.”
“Before they took him away, I noticed the old man was wearing a ring similar in style to yours,” Casey said. “And I overheard you tell the girl not to talk about Eden. Is that a code word or something?”
“It’s Yden, with a Y. Nothing gets by you, does it?”
Jon paused as he tried to compose an answer that would satisfy his overly intelligent friend.
“Yden wouldn’t have anything to do with an alternate dimension, would it?” Casey pressed.
The startled look on Jon’s face must have answered his question.
“All right, I'll help you,” he said. “But promise you'll tell me about this Yden?”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. But if you repeat anything I say, I’ll deny it.”
“Who am I going to talk to? Eggheads sometimes don’t have too many friends, if you haven’t noticed,” Casey replied.
“It’s quality, not quantity,” Jon joked.
While Casey engaged Nurse Patton in conversation, Jon slipped past the nurses’ station and into Dorsit's room. The wizard was attached to a machine monitoring his vital signs. An IV drip was giving him fluids, and his head was encased in a bandage. Dorsit appeared even more wizened than Jon remembered, with a drawn face reminiscent of a mummy. He was shocked to discover Dorsit’s cuff and ring had been removed and were in a plastic bag at his bedside. If the man was a wizard, how had the staff managed to remove them?
Dorsit must have sensed Jon’s presence. His eyes fluttered open. “I’m Dorsit of the Leopard Clan,” he murmured.
Jon moved closer. “Hello, Dorsit. I'm Jon Hansen. You've had an accident.”
“It was my first attempt at working a metal conveyance,” Dorsit replied, a whisper of a smile on his lips. “Perhaps I needed a bit more practice.”
“Cars can be tricky,” Jon said. “You're going to be all right.”
“No. I am drained,” he said. He gripped Jon’s arm with his bony fingers. “Beware Efysian.”
“Efysian!” Jon exclaimed. “He kidnapped my dad, didn't he?”
Dorsit nodded. “If Efysian knows of your existence, you’re not safe, Jon Hansen.”
“Can you help me rescue my dad?”
“Alas, the last of my magic was used for transport.”
Although Dorsit’s respon
se explained why his ring and cuff had come off, Jon was unsettled. How could a wizard, even one as old as Dorsit, be completely drained of his magic?
“Dorsit, where is Efysian keeping my dad…and why?”
“Find...Quixoran,” he murmured.
Jon was confused. It sounded as if Dorsit had said “kicksoran.”
“I’m sorry…what’s that?”
But Dorsit, exhausted, had fallen asleep. Although Jon had many more questions, he wouldn’t be getting any answers from the Leopard Clan wizard tonight. Perhaps Kira could fill in some of the blanks.
Across the hall from Dorsit's hospital room was an emergency exit. If Jon managed to get to the exit without being seen, he could take the stairs to the fifth floor where Kira's room was located. Before he could move, however, he heard a noise behind him. A waspish Nurse Patton had entered the room, followed by Mrs. Hansen. He was so busted.
