Fire Song

by Adam Garnet Jones

  When Shane stands, he hears voices coming from the kitchen. He stays still, listening. It sounds like his mom, but that would be impossible. Jackie hasn’t left the house in forever. Shane steps closer to the bedroom door and presses his ear against it. The cheap plywood door vibrates like the skin of a drum.

  “You’re sure they’re together?” Jackie asks. Her voice is watery but clear enough to make out.

  “I heard them talking in David’s room this morning,” Evie says. Shane blushes, wondering what else she might have heard. The women go quiet. Shane imagines the two of them together at the table, searching for the right words in their mugs of hot tea.

  “How long do you think it’s been going on with them?” Jackie again. Shane holds his breath. She doesn’t know. They can’t know.

  “It’s not right,” Evie says. “Ask me, the creator made men and women different for a reason. To make babies, you know?”

  Shane has heard versions of this line for his whole life. Lessons about the traditional roles of men and women. Lessons about the importance of keeping the worlds gendered and distinct as a way of honoring the teachings, as a way of honoring ourselves and our ancestors. The pairing of male and female as the only way to achieve balance. Rigid rules with no room for him or David. Rules that cut them out like something sick.

  “When he was a baby, an elder from James Bay told me Shane would be two-spirited,” Jackie says. Shane’s heart leaps. He’s never heard anyone he knows say the words two-spirited before, much less his mom. He’s read it online but …

  “I tried to raise him up normally. I hoped that elder was wrong and for a while he seemed okay, but now I don’t know.”

  “That’s for city people. Gichi-mookomaanag. We don’t do that here,” Evie says. The ice-water panic rises to Shane’s throat again, numbing his whole body.

  “When he and Tara got together, I thought that was behind us.”

  “You think maybe he made David that way?”

  It’s as though a string connecting him to the women’s voices suddenly snaps. Like something vital has been severed. Shane looks down at his hands and feet to make sure he’s all there.

  Jackie and Evie continue to murmur on the other side of the door, but he can’t listen anymore. He’s imagined versions of telling his mother so many times, preparing himself for the sadness he expected to feel once she knew. He’s surprised to find that sadness is only a small part of it. The anger is much bigger. Who is she to cut me out after promising she would always be there? Shane picks up the coil of rope from the floor and slips out the way he came.

  *

  When Shane drops down into the grass beside the house, David is nowhere to be seen. Shane circles around to the back, but the yard is empty. He would call out if he wasn’t afraid Jackie and Evie would hear. Shane circles the house and finds David, crouching beside the kitchen window, listening to the women’s voices inside. His face is tight and gray. Shane whistles softly to catch David’s attention and swings his head toward the road. When David doesn’t move, Shane curls his hands into two half-moons and presses them into the shape of a heart against his chest. David takes a last look at the light peeking through the curtains before he joins Shane in the road. Neither of them speaks about what they heard. Shane reaches out for David’s hand, then thinks better of it and tucks his own hand back into his pocket.

  They slip between houses and through little shortcuts in the bush to avoid being seen. Since the cops are still looking for Shane, he hides behind the propane tanks while David heads inside Janice’s store. Shane looks up at the sea of stars, willing himself to float above his body, feelers groping for signs of danger. It’s the first time Shane has been able to Drift while still maintaining control of his body, both inside and outside of it at the same time. It’s like watching a character on a TV show and wondering what they’re going to do, even though you’ve already seen the episode a hundred times before. But this isn’t TV, none of this has actually happened yet. He has the power to stop it at any time. But he won’t. Their plan is on its feet and racing through the rez on padded paws. It’s all he can do to keep up.

  David comes around the corner with a coffee in his hand. “I got it,” he says.

  “Triple-triple?” Shane asks. It’s the only way Debbie will take it.

  David nods. Shane takes his elbow and pulls him deeper into the shadows. They creep behind the building and around the back way, avoiding the loose knots of younger kids who wander in packs through the yellow pools of streetlight. They might as well be on a whole other planet tonight.

  Before he died, Shane’s dad used to watch an old movie about a couple of white guys in suits called The Blues Brothers. They were trying to get a group of musicians together in order to make money to save a convent, but Princess Leia and the Nazis kept trying to blow them up. Shane’s dad always said the most important lesson in life was in that movie: No matter what happens, just be cool. The Blues Brothers said they were on a mission from god, so they knew that anything they did would work out in the end. That’s how Shane feels now. His shadow self is guiding them from above, which may not be as good as a mission from god, but it will have to do.

  “What if Debbie’s not there?” David says.

  Shane scans the darkness without responding. There’s no point. He knows she’ll be there.

  “She could be closed too. Sometimes she goes partying in Brickport. Ashley told me she’s got a guy over there …”

  “Shhhhhh! It’ll be fine.”

  Shane wonders if it was a mistake not to talk about what Jackie and Evie said. David seems different since they left, but Shane can’t risk opening up a conversation that might derail everything before they even began. And it doesn’t matter now. David can have all the doubts he wants, just as long as he plays his part.

  *

  Shane feels the bass throbbing from Debbie’s speakers as they pick their way along the unlit back road that leads through the junkyard behind her compound. The humped roofs and hoods of abandoned cars are piled on either side like the rocky walls of a ravine. Shadowy graffiti creeps along the doors like the marks of their ancestors, ancient pictures that say, This is me. I am here.

  An old RV is parked on the edge of the compound, hiding David and Shane from anyone within the circle of light that spills from the porch. Debbie is sitting in her usual spot, exactly where she’s supposed to be, tucked away behind the counter in front of the shack. The portable TV gives her face an immortal, bluish cast.

  Kyle and Ashley are on the couch at the edge of the light. It’s closest to the trailer he and Debbie sleep and eat in. It used to be in front of the porch where Debbie sells from, but Kyle moved it against the main trailer so that girls would have fewer steps to change their mind after getting up from the couch and walking to Kyle’s bedroom. He didn’t like being that close to Debbie and her legendary mouth anyway. The crazy thing was, moving the couch closer to his bedroom actually worked. At least, if his bullshit was to be believed, he got laid a good 25 percent more often than when the couch was in the old spot.

  David rests his hand on the side of the RV. “I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

  “You’re not. Just take deep breaths. Everyone is where we thought they would be. We just have to wait until Kyle and Ashley go inside to fool around.”

  “What if they don’t go in?”

  “Don’t puss out now, David. You want to make things better, this is your chance.”

  David leans against the RV and closes his eyes. “You don’t need to say shit like that to me. I know why you’re doing this. Don’t pretend like it’s some kind of noble mission.”

  Shane scrambles to come up with the right words to make David stick to the plan.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not quitting.” David rubs at his eyes. “What should I ask her for?”

  Shane lets himself breathe again. “It doesn’t ma
tter,” Shane says. “Get whatever you want.”

  Kyle pulls Ashley up from the couch and guides her toward his trailer. After a few moments, fresh beats shake the walls of Kyle’s bedroom.

  “It’s time,” Shane says, and takes the baggie of white powder out of his pocket. He squishes the bag between his fingers. There are still a few chunks that he wasn’t able to bust up with the mortar and pestle, but hopefully it’s not enough to tip Debbie off. By the time she gets to the bottom, those Oxys will have her right fucked-up and she won’t notice.

  Shane opens the seal and shakes the powder into the coffee. The white mound floats for a moment before it disappears into the cup. Shane works up a gob of saliva and lets it dangle above the surface of the coffee for a moment before he lets it drop into the drink.

  “You’re sure this is safe?” David asks, as Shane stirs the foamy wad with his finger.

  “She’s selling it. If it’s not safe it’s her own fault.” This is either the smartest or the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but he’s having too much fun to know the difference. “You’re up,” Shane says, and passes David the coffee. David hesitates for a moment, then takes the cup.

  “You can do this, David. And no matter what happens, she deserves it. Right?”

  “If I shit myself, it’s your fault.” David takes the coffee and steps into the clearing at the center of the compound.

  Debbie turns down the music and calls out to him before he gets halfway to her table. “Come this time of night, you better have a coffee in your hand!”

  David raises it up. Debbie gestures him forward. Shane creeps closer, still hidden by a patch of low bushes. He can just barely make out what they’re saying.

  “So what do you want? You’ve never been here alone before. You even drink?” Debbie asks.

  David pauses. And then his pause stretches out, becoming something else. He forgot what he was going to ask for. Just say something, Shane thinks. David turns to the price list on the wall.

  “Um …” David says. Okay, good start, Shane thinks. Debbie has a frown on her face like David is the biggest idiot she’s ever served, and Shane knows that’s not true. She must know something’s up. “Do you have any champagne?” David asks.

  “You got a date with that faggot friend of yours tonight?” David freezes. Debbie looks back, stone-faced. “You know what, I don’t wanna know.” Debbie hoists herself up from the chair, frowning as though, instead of champagne, David had asked her for gay porn. Shane smiles to himself.

  Debbie turns from David and rummages around for a bottle.

  David glances back at Shane’s hiding spot, looking twitchy.

  Debbie heaves herself from the back corner with a bottle of sparkling wine in her fist. She plops the bottle on the counter and grazes the cup of coffee just enough to send it spinning off the edge.

  “Aw, Christ!” Debbie says. “Can you grab me another one?” Debbie leans over to mop up the spill.

  “I …” David watches her like a kid who’s dropped an ice cream on the sidewalk.

  “Never mind. You got the thirty?”

  David holds out a handful of bills. Without looking up, Debbie takes them and stuffs them in her bra. Her rag moves in slow, deliberate circles over the counter.

  “You can go.”

  She doesn’t have to tell him twice. David scurries into the dark like a mouse that’s escaped a cat’s claws. When he gets to the RV, David ducks behind, holding the bottle close to his chest.

  “She spilled it,” David says.

  “I know. I saw.”

  “And the safe is closed.”

  Shane pokes his head out to watch Debbie. She takes a last swipe at the counter and tosses the rag into a corner. She’s breathing like she just got back from a run. Shane tries to think of the last time he saw Debbie anywhere other than right there behind her counter, but he can’t. By the amount of effort it took just to clean up that spill, it doesn’t seem like she could get very far at all.

  Shane smiles at David. “It’s okay, we’re still good.”

  “We’re definitely not good. We can’t do anything with her awake.”

  “It’s two against one. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “Are you kidding? She knows us!”

  “So? She’s gonna turn us in for robbing her illegal business?” Shane looks at David, wondering how far he can push him. “This is it, David. We’re gonna be gone soon. Just us, nobody else.”

  “I’m not doing it.”

  “What?”

  “It’s too crazy, Shane. I can’t.”

  “I’m doing this for us, David. I love you.”

  “Well, don’t do it for me. I’m already home.”

  “Didn’t you hear your nookomis? They don’t want us. Not the way we are.”

  David juts out his chin, suddenly defiant. “Fine.”

  Shane takes a step back, a car spinning its tires on an ice road, nowhere to go. One less person to lose. Shane kicks the side of the RV with his full weight, making the old siding clatter.

  “What’s going on over there!?” Debbie calls, squinting into the dark.

  Shane pushes away from the RV and plows through the clearing. When he glances behind him, David is following a few feet behind. “Go home, David!”

  Debbie rises from her seat. “I thought I told you to stay away from here!”

  In a few short steps, Shane is behind the counter. He reaches around Debbie’s neck with one arm and grabs at her wrists with the other. The clammy plucked-chicken skin of Debbie’s neck slides beneath his palms. “Jesus Christ! Get off!” Debbie chokes.

  David steps forward and backward in an idiotic dance, unsure of what to do or where to go. He reaches for the cash box from the counter and holds it to his chest. Debbie shoves Shane against the wall, trying to shake him off.

  “Open the safe!” Shane shoves the back of Debbie’s head down, forcing her to her knees.

  “I can’t open nothing with you holding me!” Shane reluctantly lets go of her arms. Debbie fiddles with the combination lock.

  “Let’s just go!” David pleads.

  Shane knows he’s right. It isn’t too late. They could run across the grass and down onto the highway; they could speed together over endless stretches of cracked pavement, past an infinity of hardscrabble trees and fields of runny-egg-yolk flowers. The trouble is, when he imagines them stopping, they both disappear. The only way for them to stay alive, even in his imagination, is to keep running.

  The safe clicks. Shane turns back to Debbie, catching a glimpse of a gun and a bag of cash that she’s pulled from the open safe. Debbie stands and tries to turn around. David sees the gun and dives out of the way. Shane ducks around Debbie, grabbing both of her arms from behind.

  “Get the hell off me!” Debbie swings wildly, trying to knock Shane loose.

  The trailer door bangs open. “Auntie, what the fuck is going on!?” Kyle is standing there in a beat-up pair of boxers, one hand over his crotch.

  Debbie kicks at the wall, sending her and Shane tumbling backward down the staircase. Sometime mid-fall, her gun goes off. The shattering crack of it doesn’t sound like thunder or rocks breaking; it sounds like what it is. Debbie and Shane hit the ground, and Kyle slams to the gravel moments later, screaming and clutching his shin.

  The bag of cash is close, but just out of reach. Shane scrambles to his feet and lunges for it. Just as Shane gets a grip, Debbie hauls herself up and manages to get a corner of the bag in her hand. Shane springs forward with it, but Debbie is stronger than she looks.

  “Gimme back my money!” Debbie grunts.

  They wrestle with the bag, and the plastic splits, scattering bills into the field. Shane swipes a few bills and grabs the gun from the ground before Debbie starts barreling toward him. Better in his hands than hers.

  �
��David, run!” Shane quick-steps backward and pivots around, darting over the grass. David is already a handful of steps ahead, legs pumping toward a wall of darkness, his body flailing into the void. At this point, Shane’s memories more than his eyes are guiding him to the bottom of the road. Far behind them, Kyle is still screaming.

  For a little while longer, it’s just the way Shane imagined. Just him and David. Feet and pavement like the very first drums. Breathing hard—rattles keeping time. Grandmother moon winking in the star-freckled sky. Trees like ancestors with their arms held high. Shane lets out a long howl. The dogs answer back, sending them both into a fit of manic laughter. David stumbles and stops to catch his breath.

  Shane jumps up and down, full of adrenaline, the gun bouncing at his side. “I can’t believe we just did that!”

  David coughs and spits.

  “C’mon! Let’s go!” Shane slaps David on the shoulder.

  “Where are we going!?”

  “I don’t know!” Shane tugs on David’s shirt and drags him down the street, both of them laughing, stumbling over each other as they jog.

  In the distance, the cry of sirens gets louder. Shane smiles. He wishes he could see the look on Debbie’s face when the cops show up to find her out front with money scattered everywhere, a safe full of drugs, and Kyle bleeding in front of the trailer. She can try to hide some of it, but she’ll never be able to hide it all before the police arrive.

  chapter twenty-six

  The air by the lake has a surprising bite. Mist rolls up off the sun-warmed water like steam off a bowl of moose meat. Shane stops running at the shoreline. There’s nowhere else to go. When he left Debbie’s place his footsteps felt like they were launching him into flight, but he’s in freefall now, bracing for the inevitable moment when the ground rushes up to crush him. David’s steps echo behind him.