by Carrie Mac
The crowd cheered. Phee glanced up, and there she was on the massive screen, hurrying alongside the stretcher. She pushed her hair behind her ears and tried to ignore it, but then the commentary boomed from the towering speakers.
“Bringing you live, up-to-the-minute reporting on the shocking public attack of Chrysalis-sponsored star athlete Gryphon Nicholson-Lalonde, this is KPL News, where every second counts.”
The crowd—with cellphones held aloft like lighters at a concert, trying to get a picture of Gryph—followed them to the ambulance. The security guards cleared a path for the paramedics to manoeuvre the stretcher back into the ambulance shuttle. As Phee climbed in behind him, she could hear the faceless newscaster drone on. “Details are still coming in, but eyewitness accounts describe Nicholson-Lalonde as a hero caught in a brave act.”
“All for what?” Phee demanded as the doors shut behind them and the shuttle pulled away. “What did he take?”
“It wasn’t about what he took.” Another wince as Gryph tried to straighten his knees. “It’s the principle of the matter.”
“Keep them flexed,” the man said as he took out a bag of fluid and an IV catheter.
“What was it?”
“A game.”
“All that? For a stupid game?” Phee sighed, exasperated. “You can’t be so reckless, Gryph! Do you want to be reconned?”
“I’m fine, aren’t I?” Gryph paled as the paramedic took his arm and lined up the IV needle against his vein. “He’s a thief. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”
“This’ll only hurt for a moment,” the paramedic said as he inserted the needle.
Gryph clenched his teeth and winced. Phee sat back on the bench, mystified, as the ambulance took off, the siren wailing.
Not that long ago, Gryph was careful not to do anything that might jeopardize his career stats or his contract with Chrysalis. This was unprecedented, putting himself in harm’s way. She had to wonder about all those nights he didn’t spend at home, and what he got up to. If it was anything like this, she didn’t want to know.
OSCAR AND EVA arrived—along with Fawn, and Eva’s father— minutes after Gryph was ushered into the trauma bay.
“Is he okay?” Eva asked, rushing past Phoenix on her way to the nurses’ station.
“I think so,” Phee said. “How come Granddad’s here?” She pointed at her grandfather, already wandering aimlessly down the corridor, trailing his fingers along the wall.
“Your grandma’s off getting things for the party,” Oscar explained when Phee pointed. “I couldn’t very well leave Fawn and him alone together, and we both wanted to come. You keep an eye on them both while we find out what’s going on.”
Oscar joined Eva at the nurses’ station, while Phee steered her grandpa back to the waiting area, where Fawn had already made fast friends with two boys just a little younger than she was. Fawn had them following her under the banks of seating, pretending to be a pirate leading her prisoner sailors underground.
Shortly afterwards, Gryph’s agent arrived from Chrysalis, with his assistant bustling behind him. Lex homed in on Phoenix and immediately started in with the questions.
“What happened? And why on earth did you let people tape it?”
“Why did I let people—”
“Never mind, the damage is done.” Lex wasn’t interested in hearing Phee’s answers. He answered himself. “We get notified of any online uploads that mention Gryphon. In fact, that’s how we found out; it’s all over the lync. Why didn’t you call us?” Again, he didn’t wait for Phee’s reply. “Never mind, we placed a media ban straightaway, thank God. Took a good half-hour to get the judge on board, but we don’t want Gryphon’s little adventure broadcast more than is unavoidable.”
“Why not?” Phee broke in. “You can’t expect people not to talk about it. The mall was packed. Everyone was taking pictures.”
“Chrysalis has a reputation to uphold.” Lex stiffened. “And so does your brother. This sort of … of … ‘stunt’ is not the kind of attention befitting a champion athlete sponsored by the largest and most important entity in this nation.”
“He caught a criminal,” Phee deadpanned. “Can’t your media people spin that in your favour?”
“I’d rather they didn’t have to, but they will.”
What Lex wasn’t saying, but Phee knew full well, was that he was worried that a publicized injury might affect the judges’ decisions at the X Games. Every sponsor for every athlete invited to the X Games did its best to keep its athletes’ images spotless and shiny leading up to the event every year. Considering that Gryph was the gold-medal winner for the past two years running in four events ranging from motorcross to skateboarding, Chrysalis had a lot at stake.
Lex’s phone rang, so he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Phee spotted Lex’s assistant by the coffee machine and went to talk to her.
“What do you think of this?” Phee asked. “Is it as big a deal as Lex is making it out to be?”
“Well”—she turned to Phee and gave her a big polished smile— “Chrysalis openly requires its athletes to keep a low profile between competitions.”
“That sounds like a line from the policy book.” Phee laughed. “It’s Aggie, right?”
“Yes.” She looked up from arranging the tray of coffees in front of her. Still with the plastered-on smile. “Short for Agatha. And it is a line from the policy book. You caught me.”
“Here, let me help you.” Phee took the tray.
“Thank you.”
“So, how’s it going? Being back at work?”
Aggie shrugged. “It’s a little easier. Every day.”
“I don’t know if they told you,” Phee said, “but I lost my memory too.”
“Lex mentioned it.” Aggie’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Do you get bits here and there sometimes? Like flashes?”
“I think so.” Phee nodded. “But they’re so fleeting that I mostly can’t hold on to them. And I sometimes wonder if I’m just making it up. Splicing stuff from what people tell me and pictures and movies. I can’t tell what is real memory and what isn’t.”
“Oh.” Aggie’s smile vanished. “I kind of hoped it got better with time.”
“Me too,” Phee said quietly.
Aggie worked her regulation smile back into place. “The coffee’s getting cold.”
“Aggie,” Phee started, not sure where she was going with her thoughts. “Gryph’s relationship with Chrysalis is okay … isn’t it?”
“Like I said, the coffee is getting cold.” Aggie shook her head a little, as if silently admonishing Phee for trying to get information out of her by exploiting common ground. “Nice talking to you.” She lifted the tray from Phee and went about distributing the drinks, coffee for Lex and Phee’s granddad, hot chocolate for the kids. She left a hot chocolate on the tray for Phee. As if she were just a kid too.
WHEN EVA AND OSCAR emerged from the ER, they practically sagged with relief.
“They’ve cleared him for internal injuries and are just stitching him up now,” Eva explained. “We should be able to take him home tonight.”
Oscar bent his head, praying silently while Lex started organizing everyone. “We’ll get you a Chrysalis shuttle to take you home. As for Gryphon, I’ll want a statement to the press, either tonight or first thing in the morning, something we can use if we need to, and hopefully won’t have to. I can have Aggie write up something we can splice for any occasion, if that’s all right with you. And I’ll speak directly to the doctor and his team to determine when Gryph will be well enough to resume his competition schedule—”
Eva raised a hand to cut him off. “In time for the X Games, you mean.”
“Well, yes … among other events.”
“I can tell you right now that he will not be competing at the X Games this year.”
“Mrs. Nicholson-Lalonde—”
“Now, now, Lex.” Eva gave him a sly grin. “You know better than th
at.”
“Dr. Nicholson-Lalonde, of course. I only mean to say that we’ll be sure to get the attending physician’s opinion on the matter as well.”
“The attending physician’s opinion is the same as this physician’s.” Eva squared her jaw. “And Gryph has said that he agrees. He does not want to compete. It’s too soon. He wants to be able to do his best, and he can already admit that this will not be possible with only one month to recover.”
“We’ll have our own medical team examine—”
“You will not. I won’t permit it.”
While Lex reddened, Phee gazed at her mother with admiration. She could always tell when Eva was seething with anger because she grew calmer and more articulate the madder she became.
“If this is about his contract …” Lex said in a near whisper.
“It most certainly is not.” Eva’s expression darkened. “This is about my son.”
“Of course this is about your son, but surely you can understand that Chrysalis—”
“And furthermore,” Eva continued, as if Lex hadn’t spoken at all, “I am disappointed at your suggestion that my son has put himself in harm’s way with the idea that he might get out of his contract with Chrysalis.”
But he did want out of his contract.
It dawned on Phee that that was exactly what Gryph was doing.
He wanted out! That’s why he was throwing away his wins lately, deliberately coming in second. He wanted Chrysalis to fire him. It made so much sense! But why? Why would he sabotage something so important to him?
Maybe it wasn’t so important to him anymore.
Something had changed last year, and it had made Gryph think differently about Chrysalis. And life. He’d been more reckless than ever. He and the guys spent entire nights out getting up to mischief that Phee had no clue about. And he took more risks. He did put himself in harm’s way. A year ago, he would never let himself get in the media spotlight for anything other than sports. Mind you, a year ago, he would never have let Phee come along to a rave either.
True or not, Eva wasn’t about to let Lex make such accusations.
“We’re done here. We’ll arrange for a private shuttle,” Eva said, stealthily changing the subject. “Or we’ll take the train. If you need a statement from my son, you may come to our house in the morning to do so. You will use whatever he says in its entirety. No editing. And we will have our own recording to ensure that you do so. He is not your puppet, whatever you might think—”
“Eva, darling …” Oscar set a steadying hand on his wife’s knee.
“Let us see you home,” Lex said, his expression even. “It’s the least we can do.”
“So that the media can see us riding in your corporate shuttle with the Chrysalis logo all over it? So that you can use even this— my son’s hospital visit—in one of your ad campaigns? No,” Eva said emphatically, “absolutely not. We’ll make our own way home. No Chrysalis. No media.”
“We have a family dinner tonight,” Oscar explained, as if that had anything to do with it.
Lex ignored him, his eyes locked on Eva. “As you wish.”
Eva glared right back at him. “Indeed.”
“All right, everyone, let’s all take a nice deep breath.” Oscar demonstrated, his nostrils flaring as he did. He let out the breath with a roll of his hand in front of him. “We’re all upset. It’s been a shock to us all. I’ve prayed for calm and clarity—”
“Clarity?” Lex snapped at him. “Perhaps you and your wife and your son should all take some time to get clear about what his contract with us includes. He’s developed quite the attitude as of late, and no one at Chrysalis is impressed. And as for his recent ‘losses’ … What are we supposed to think?”
This time it was Oscar on the defensive. “What are you implying?”
Lex let a long, loaded moment go before he answered. “Your son is talented, of course, but he’s nothing without our corporate support. Without our contract. It would be a shame if he chose to screw it up. Not to mention that that would also be a chargeable violation of his legally binding contract.”
“Enough, Lex.” It wasn’t often that Oscar’s cheeks reddened with anger, but they did now, colouring so suddenly that even Fawn noticed.
“Daddy, your face looks like a tomato—”
“Come on, Fawn.” Phee swept her out of the way. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”
“But I don’t have to!”
“Lex”—Oscar chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment before continuing—“I think you and Aggie should leave now. My family would like to be alone.”
“There was a time when you considered Chrysalis family.” Lex talked as he snapped his fingers for Aggie to follow him. “And Chrysalis gladly returned such affection.”
Phee’s granddad appeared like a ghost behind Lex, who suddenly found himself face to face with the old man when he turned to leave. Lex drew in a surprised breath.
“Mr. Nicholson!”
“And who’re you, Mr. Bigshot?” He peered at Lex with a sneer. “Who’re you, making my girl angry like that?”
“If you’ll excuse us.” With his nose wrinkled, Lex minced his way around Phee’s granddad. Her granddad did stink, as he’d started refusing baths a while ago. And right then Phee was glad for it and glad that Lex was getting a ripe noseful of rank old man.
“We’ll be in touch,” Aggie added with a cold smile before following him.
EVA STEERED HER FATHER back into the waiting area and sat him down. Phee plopped into the chair beside him.
“Well, that was fun.” Phee elbowed her granddad gently. “Good on you, Granddad, standing up to Lex like that.”
“Who?” He scowled at her.
“I want to go home now,” Fawn said as she watched the two little boys leave with their mother. “I have no one to play with.”
“I’ll go check on how much longer it will be.” Eva headed toward the ER doors.
Oscar gestured behind them at the admin counter. “I’ll go get the paperwork done.”
With her parents heading off in opposite directions, Phee spoke to no one in particular. “And I’ll stay here and look after Fawn and Granddad.”
“Who?” Phee’s grandpa asked. “Who’re you looking after?”
“You, Granddad. And Fawn. Your littlest granddaughter.”
“Well, okay, then. You’re doing a mighty fine job, girlie.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a lint-covered mint. “A sweetie for my sweetie?”
“Thanks, Granddad.” Her grandfather beamed at her as she reluctantly took the mint. Sometimes his dementia was just a matter of fact. But right now, in the midst of everything, she felt terribly, terribly sad about it. She didn’t have the heart to pretend, and he was watching her with such an earnestly pleased smile, so she popped the sticky old mint into her mouth and grinned back at him. “Thanks.”
THEY WERE HOME in time for dinner, and no one—certainly not Phee’s grandfather—minded that the celebration was more about Gryph’s good fortune than an old man’s birthday. The twins hung off Gryph like a couple of ardent fans, though they were far too young to admire him for anything other than being the cherished older cousin, and Fawn had one of her customary before-dinner tantrums. This sent Phee’s grandma and aunt off on a lecture about Fawn’s getting away with bad behaviour, which put Eva on the defensive and gave Oscar the platform to preach about gentle discipline. By the time the cake was brought out with a candle lit for each of Granddad’s seven decades, Phee was done. Done with the long day, done with wondering what was going on with Gryph, done with Saul’s secret, done with it all.
As her grandfather protested that it wasn’t his birthday at all and he certainly wasn’t seventy, Phee joined in with the rest of them singing “Happy Birthday.” When he refused to blow out the candles, Fawn was happy to do it for him. As she did, Phee made her own silent wish. To have everything go back to the way it was before.
AFTER DINNER Phoenix retreated to the
porch swing for some peace and quiet while the rest of them played charades in the living room. She’d been out there a little while, long enough to get a chill, when Gryph appeared and asked if he could join her. He’d brought her a blanket and set it over her lap now as he sat gingerly beside her, careful not to strain his wound. Phee waited for him to explain what was going on. With what happened earlier, with his relationship with Chrysalis, with the story behind his attacker. So she was unprepared when he started talking about her.
“I want you to know something about when you died,” he said, as if plucking the subject out of midair. “The second time. When you were six.”
Phee shifted to look at him. “What?” She tried to keep her excitement at bay. Gryph rarely talked about that day at the church picnic, and never unprovoked.
“I did it.”
Phee waited for more, not understanding.
Gryph noted her confusion. “I pushed you in,” he explained. “It was my fault that you died.”
Now Phee was dumbstruck. “You … you what?”
“I wanted to see what would happen, with the recon. I was curious.” Gryph held her gaze as he talked. “Mom and Dad don’t know.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” Even as she spoke, Phee was rewriting the story as she knew it, trying to place her brother in this new role, shoving her into the fast-moving waters.
“I want you to know the truth.”
“In general? Or just about this?”
“About this.”
Phee gritted her teeth. She wanted a real memory. She didn’t want to take his word for it or her parents’ word for it. She wanted her own recollection of events.
“You’re mad.”
“Of course I’m mad! You killed me!”
“I was just a kid—”
“So was I!”
“Just like Fawn,” Gryph said. “You know? Curious. I’d just begun to understand about recons. I didn’t make the connection to the fact that you’d already had one and what that would mean. And I had no idea that some people lost their memory. I’m sorry, Phee.”
“You’re sorry? Is that why you’re telling me? So you can apologize and feel better about the fact that you drowned your own little sister? And now I only have one recon left! Thanks to you, my dear brother.”
