Shared Redemption

by Michel Prince

  I didn’t answer.

  “Kiri? Kiri?” He pulled up on the south side of the square, got off the bike, and removed his helmet.

  This was my last chance, in less than a minute he could be gone forever. I dropped my head so I could slide my fingers under the helmet to wipe away my tears. I was going to be strong. I was going to fight. My hand shook as I unlatched the strap. Pulling it off, I shook out my hair and placed the helmet on the seat.

  “Where’s your home?”

  “I’m hungry. You got any cash on you?”

  “Um…yes,” he said as he dug in his pocket.

  But I held my hand up.

  “See the Subway over there?” I asked, pointing to the opposite side of the square. “Would you please take me there?”

  “You need more to eat than a sandwich.”

  “There’s a bar over there that serves food.” I pointed. “Or if you want to walk a few blocks, there’s a Maid Rite.”

  His feet shuffled in front of him.

  “Things have changed. Please, let me show you.”

  I reached for his hand. He grabbed both the helmets and let me hold his hand as we walked through the square. Our fingers intertwined. With my thumb I rubbed circles on the outside of his hand. I held tight to his bicep with my other hand.

  I could feel his hesitancy, so I held his arm tighter to my body. His eyes were trained on any movement around us. I was not sure if his fear was of the people, or the thought demons may be lurking. Sadly, I think he feared other people more. We walked into the bar and Nye slunk into a booth.

  “Hey,” I said, holding both his hands on the table. “It’s okay.”

  Nye was looking at his dark fingers against my pale skin.

  “Please be yourself,” I begged.

  “It’s really hard.”

  “I can’t say I know, but I’m here for you. You’re not alone.”

  Nye’s head shot up and he smirked.

  * * * *

  Nye

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” A waitress came over and handed us some menus.

  “Just water for me.”

  “I’ll take a Dr. Pepper,” Kiri said. “And we want some cheese curds.”

  As the waitress left I thought about how she had looked me in the eye when she asked her question. She handed me the menu first, as if I were any other man. My leg was still jumping under the table, but Kiri refused to let go of my hands.

  “You know this is kinda like a date. A date with a white girl,” Kiri teased.

  “It’s not a date.”

  “Fine.”

  She let go of my hands and reached for the menu.

  “I didn’t bring you flowers. If I’da brought you flowers, then it’d be a date.”

  She smiled but didn’t look away from the menu.

  “So what are you hungry for? They have a good meatloaf here, if you can believe it. Their French dip isn’t bad either.”

  “I’m actually really hungry.”

  “I want you to order me a California burger basket. No onions. Burger medium.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you to order for me. I want onion rings not fries. You got that?”

  I wasn’t sure how to react.

  “Look, normally I wouldn’t ask you to order for me but I want you to, so will you, please?”

  The waitress came with our drinks. “Would you like to know our specials? Or are you ready to order?”

  Kiri kicked me under the table.

  “Yeah, what are your specials?” Kiri stepped on my nervous foot. If I were human, I’d be sweating. Instead, the glasses were frosting up and the waitress wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Oh…they jacked up the AC. Okay, we’ve got a catfish platter. It’s fried, with your choice of potato, for ten bucks. And a chopped steak sandwich with roasted vegetables for twelve.”

  The waitress hadn’t taken her eyes off me.

  “She’ll have a California burger basket without onions, but for some strange reason, she wants onion rings.”

  The waitress laughed and looked at Kiri.

  “Keepin’ him on his toes, huh? I don’t blame you.”

  She turned back to me.

  “Personally, I wouldn’t have any onions if I was goin’ home with you.”

  Kiri dug her nails into my hand.

  “How ya want it cooked?” she asked Kiri, but didn’t turn away from me.

  “Medium.”

  “And what can I get you?”

  “Well, I’m really hungry. What’s a lot of food?”

  She leaned over, her low-cut shirt exposing her chest to me.

  “Let’s see…Oh, this is a really big meal,” she said as she pointed with her blue and white pen. “Or this…”

  “How about you choose?”

  “All right.”

  She smiled, clicked her pen, and walked away.

  I turned to Kiri glaring at me. Her hands were pulled back under the table. Her eyes locked on the bar.

  “Is something wrong? I got your order right.”

  Kiri clutched a straw. She tore a small piece of the white tissue paper off the end.

  “Kiri…”

  She blew off the wrapping and hit me in the eye. I laughed and snatched the paper.

  She sipped on the soda, sucking down half the glass before she finally let go of the straw. She crossed her arms on top of the table. She looked around at the kitschy décor.

  “Kiri?”

  “What?” she snipped.

  “What did I do?”

  Again she glared at me.

  “You made your point. You’re not interested. You’ll never see me again. You’ll fuck her on your way home. I guess I made my point, too. Times have changed. No one is grabbin’ a rope to string you up are they?”

  What the hell did I do? Okay, I knew the waitress was flirting with me, but all I could focus on was how soft Kiri’s hand felt. I had steel toe boots on but somehow I could still feel Kiri’s foot on top of mine, almost as if we were still in bed together. Like a phantom, her soft skin caressed the tops of my feet.

  “You’re right. I’m not interested. In anyone. Present company included.”

  Aw heck, why did I have to say that? I could see tears pooling in Kiri’s eyes. I covered my face with my hands and rested my forehead on them.

  “I didn’t mean it,” I said lowly.

  “Yes, you did.”

  The waitress brought us the cheese curds.

  “Can we get our order to go, please?” Kiri asked.

  I wanted to ask why, but I already knew the answer. I’d hurt her. But it was a small hurt compared to what it was going to do to me. She’d find someone to love. I wouldn’t. I’d spend the rest of my time wallowing, remembering her smell. Her touch. That kiss. God why hadn’t I gone for more?

  As soon as the waitress brought the Styrofoam containers, I dropped a hundred dollar bill on the table and tried to catch up to Kiri.

  “Kiri…wait.”

  “I can get home from here, thank you very much.”

  I followed her past four storefronts.

  “You do realize you’re a black man chasing a white woman?”

  “You said it didn’t matter anymore.”

  She was holding a door open between two storefronts.

  “You don’t want me, so why are you following me?”

  “Because…”

  Damn it, she had me there. I held the door open as she spun a combination lock on a mailbox to retrieve her keys and mail from the few days she was with me. There wasn’t much there. Nothing actually. Just ads.

  “You can’t have it both ways, Nye. Either you stay with me, I’m happy, or you leave and I hate you. Hate you in a way that you can’t even comprehend.”

  “I can comprehend a lot.”

  “Obviously not enough.”

  She bounded up the stairs and turned the key in the lock. I barely got my hand to the door as she tried to slam it in my face.r />
  “Kiri…”

  “Why’d ya kiss me? That’s so unfair,” she cried and punched me hard in the chest. It was the first real attack she’d made toward me. All that time together and now in the safety of her home she was ready to kick my ass.

  I couldn’t answer her. I shouldn’t have kissed her. It was for me, so I’d have something to remember her by. I didn’t think about what it meant to her. She seemed so flippant about intimacy in all its forms.

  “Why?” she asked again, shoving me harder. “Forget it!” She pulled her shirt off and stormed off to another room. Then I heard her shoes hitting the wall. Time for me to go.

  “Kiri? Kiri?”

  She came back and stood in front of me in just her bra and shorts.

  “What?” she snapped.

  The bra she was wearing was not a soft lace or revealing, but instead it held her breasts tight to her body. There was probably a reason for this type of bra, but all I could think of was the beautifully formed chest underneath it.

  “Here’s your goddamn pants,” she said as she tossed them at my head and left again.

  I just couldn’t understand hate. I never hated Louise. Maybe I hated myself for being so stupid to think she could actually love me.

  I could hear rustling in the next room.

  “Your leg’s gonna be stiff for at least a week…Treat it like a pulled muscle. You know ice, heat, rest.”

  It was bad enough I’d never see her again, but now it’d be with her mad at me. I suppose that was better. I took one last look around her apartment. She didn’t have a table or chairs. A small TV was set up on the floor, but that was it. No pictures, no furniture, just a pile of games in the corner.

  Was she really alone in the world? She must have someone, mustn’t she? Maybe if she was alone…No. Stop it, I told myself. I couldn’t pull her into my world. Alone in the real world had to be better than a life with me in my world.

  I looked back down the hallway, but she wasn’t coming out, and if I went in there I’d end up on my knees explaining the wonderment of being an other.

  That was when I saw a door farther down at the end of the hall. I’d lived in this town long enough to know there was a good chance the door led to the roof. Maybe I could sneak in some night to check on her. No. That was stupid. I needed to let her go.

  Chapter 8

  Damarion

  The noon retrieval was a success. With the Frozen down a team, I wasn’t surprised. Pivane appeared almost disappointed. We retrieved two bantlings today and killed two Frozen; my stock was up.

  “What grieves thee?” I asked, and the whole circle turned.

  “I worry Keir will be upset she did not acquire the bantling,” Pivane replied. “She was so anxious to be out there.”

  “If that is true, she will return and Nemesio will take her place.”

  Nemesio’s head shot up. Her eyes pleaded with me to not put her out there. She preferred to care for the bantlings.

  “If I may be so bold. Why?” Pivane asked.

  “We don’t have time for whining. If she cannot handle that the team won but she didn’t score the final goal, then she doesn’t need to be part of the team.”

  “Yah…”

  My hand shot up silencing him.

  “We need to focus harder on the Frozen. We need to find their compound. I know they are earthbound as we are. They cannot live far. This coven will change. Pivane, you shall be in charge of training of the Deumos. You know this town as well as I. We both have lived among the normals. The Deumos will no longer only be used solely for retrievals and mothering. From now on we’re all to be on recon. Please explain the ways of the world now to them. I don’t have the time nor the patience for their low learning curve.”

  “How do you propose we do this?”

  “Follow their trail. Their stench has to cover the streets. Start at the local markets and follow them. They must need provisions.”

  “I’ve never sensed them when I have shopped.”

  My hand flew with a strong desire to kill, but I held back. Instead, Pivane’s nose burst forth like a faucet being tapped. Red liquid spurted out of him without regard for the carpet. Truly, I should have continued to pummel him until the last gurgling, blood-filled gasp of air escaped his lungs, but Zuma was right. I could kill a Deumos without risk of punishment, but this slime-infested mud sucker could not be killed by my hand.

  “That better not stain,” I said as I rose to my feet and let my foot catch in his gut. “Reminding me of your failures is not how you can win my favor. I understand you’ve failed to detect the creatures living in this town. The fact they were probably one aisle over from you is not my concern right now. I am sending a woman with you, since you are currently less than one. Prove to me you have a pair and I will consider reviewing your current lack of performance.”

  There was no reason to hint he may get a chance at a Deumos’ body. That would be showing my hand too soon.

  “Zuma, attend to this creature,” I ordered.

  “I don’t need her.” Pivane cut his eyes at me.

  “It seems as if you do,” I growled then knelt down by his body and sniffed the air. The toxin still thick in my blood blocked my ability to smell, but I wasn’t going to let him know. “The smell of failure wreaks from your flesh.”

  * * * *

  Kiriana

  My leg’s gonna be stiff for a week. No shit, Sherlock. My heart’s gonna be broken forever. Why don’t you add that little nugget, Einstein? I tore through my closet hoping there was something, anything that could make him change his mind.

  Right. I walked out in a goddamn bra and got nothing. The first guy I actually had feelings for didn’t feel anything for me. Karma’s a bitch! How many guys latched on to me and I tossed ’em away like Kleenex, because I thought maybe the next one would actually get me going. Nope. Never happened. And now that it had, I couldn’t do anything to keep him.

  I put on a silk cami and a peasant skirt that fanned out when I twirled. Its relaxed style made it a favorite of mine for walks on the beach. The light cotton dried quickly and the pull tie made it easy to pull off if I wanted to go into the water.

  Walking back out into the living room, I had a sinking feeling he really was gone. On my counter were the food containers from the bar, the jeans nicely folded, and the helmet I had used. The stupid girl part of me was saying, he left the helmet so when he comes back, you’ll be able to hop on and ride away. The other half of me smacked me back to reality. He left it because he didn’t want to carry it on his bike. I grabbed the food and helmet and copped a squat in my living room. I found a horrible VH1 reality show to watch and gorged myself on the leftovers. My stomach was bloated. To add to my pathetic, sappy girl behavior I put the helmet on my head.

  I listened for breathing, maybe a cough, anything to let me know he was still there and I could talk to him. It was a stupid wish, but I made it anyway.

  I played with the helmet’s tinted visor a few times. I flipped it up. Click. Flipped it down. Click. The neck cushion on the helmet was comfortable. I tried to raise my head, but the weight of it all was too much for me. I kept trying because I thought it might be a great neck exercise. I used my remote to hit mute on the TV. What they were saying didn’t matter because the way the people were talking required subtitles.

  “Nye. If you can still hear me. Thanks for everything. I’ll always be here for you. You still haven’t told me your story.”

  I took off the helmet and lay on the floor. Well, that was it. Closing my eyes, I tried to sleep, but the warm tears flowing down my cheeks disrupted me. The food baby in my gut wasn’t helping either.

  I put the helmet back on and started talking.

  * * * *

  Nye

  I drove around town and looked at the people. I cut through the campus and imagined Kiri walking from one building to the next. I then turned toward the track, parked my bike there, and tried to imagine Kiri jogging around the recycled black ti
re track.

  I peeled out of the parking lot and took the road back to where it all started, where Kiri got hit. I must have spent hours driving around. I noticed the gas gauge was almost on E. I pulled into a gas station and as I started to fill up, I heard her.

  “Nye. If you can still hear me. Thanks for everything. I’ll always be here for you. You still haven’t told me your story.”

  Aw, heck. I didn’t think she’d still be able to talk to me. I sped to the compound. After parking my bike, I removed the helmet and ran up the stairs to find Zarmina. I pounded on the door and Lars answered. This time he was not adorned in pink.

  “Nye, I was sleeping. Soundly. Do you know what that means?”

  “I’m sorry, I just need to speak to…”

  Zarmina came up the stairs.

  “Nye, am I whom you wish to speak to?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Lars,” I said holding out my hand. “I need her assistance.”

  “I’m going to get some food. Mina, did you prepare anything?”

  “Yes, min kärlek. It is still in the oven. I knew you’d be up soon.”

  Lars kissed her cheek and walked toward the stairs.

  “Zarmina, I need you to turn off the sixth helmet’s communicator. I can’t even turn it down.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what? It’s stuck somehow.”

  “Stuck? Hmmm. I can’t think of how that could happen. But why do you want it turned off?”

  “I left it at Kiri’s.”

  “So.”

  “She’s talking to me.”

  “So.”

  “It’s distracting.”

  “Only because you love her and are upset you’ll never see her again.”

  “Zarmina, please.”

  “What? You don’t want to hear her, don’t listen.”

  “What if she talks while I’m out hunting?”

  “It’s your choice to listen to her. I will not cut communications with the helmet because you’re not wanting to admit that you should have asked her to stay.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have. What kind of life is this?”

  “I love it. But then again, I have someone to share it with.”

  “You don’t have to fight.”

  “Neither would she.”

  I was always tired, but that was because I was out fighting. I tried to see it from Zarmina’s perspective. She lived in a beautiful home. She couldn’t go out, but she had the most beautiful garden in the world.