by Abby Tyson
"You know her?"
The man cast a tender and wistful smile on Savi. Speaking more to himself, the man said, "I doubt anyone really knows her." The man glanced up at Marley, as if remembering he was there, and added, "Yes."
Marley was straightening the shirt around Savi's waist when Ren came up to stand beside the man. "You help him," Marley said. "I'll carry her."
Putting an arm around Savi's back, he noticed Ren hadn't moved. His disdain was clearly visible in the moonlight as he looked down on his brother.
"I had to," said Marley.
Even though Ren said nothing, Marley could almost hear his silent answer.
No, you didn't.
Ren held out a hand, which the man, who had been casting questioning glances between the two brothers, gladly took and pulled himself up, hopping a little on his good foot.
"There's a stream just over here that leads back to the road," the man said, putting his arm around Ren's shoulder. They began walking in that direction.
Marley started to lift Savi, but paused to lean in close and whisper in her ear, "Stay with me, Savi. You've got to be stronger than them, on the inside, remember?"
Even though he hadn't expected a reaction, he was still disappointed when she didn't stir. The sound of distant voices spurred him into action. He put one arm under Savi's shoulders and the other beneath her cold, bare legs, and lifted her off the ground.
Seeing her limp body, the man said, "We've got to get her someplace safe."
"We'll bring you to our place," Marley volunteered.
"We're leaving you both at a hospital," said Ren, glaring back at Marley.
"No," the man said with surprising urgency. He lowered his voice, forcing a casual tone. "Neither of us needs a hospital -- just some rest. I'd take her to my place, but I've got too much family there. A motel will be fine."
Marley looked down at Savi, cradled in his arms. Even though he knew it was an impossible fantasy, he could at least keep her near for one night. "Even if you got her past check-in," he said, "you don't think anyone's going to notice us carrying an unconscious girl into a motel room?"
"Her place then," Ren said. "Do you know where she lives?"
The question was directed at the man, but before he could answer, the sound of someone shouting in the distance made them all stop. A wolf howled even farther off, its cry echoed by others deep in the forest.
Looking back toward the shouting, the man said, "I don't."
"We can't bring them home," Ren whispered harshly. "You know that."
"There's no other option," Marley said. "Besides, you don't even live there, so what do you care?"
"How about this," the man said, cutting off Ren's response. "Hopefully Savi will wake before we reach the road. If she does, she and I will decide where to go. If not, I would very much appreciate your hospitality. We'll leave as soon as she wakes."
Ren said nothing.
"I'll take care of Dad," Marley said.
"Like you took care of him tonight?"
Marley didn't respond to his brother's harsh words.
"Fine," Ren growled.
"Thank you," said the man. "And thank you for saving Savi." After a few steps in silence, the man asked, "What are your names, anyway?"
Ren kept quiet, so Marley said, "He's Ren. I'm Marley. How do you know Savi?"
The man gave a little too much thought to his reply. "Savi and I work together. I'm her manager, George Solas."
Chapter Twelve
A sharp twisting in her stomach tugged Savi away from sleep. She fought the awareness creeping in and tried to cling to the comforting warmth of her dream, but something else, a sharp, sour scent, invaded her senses, alerting her mind to her body and its surroundings. The last of her dream drifted away as she opened her eyes, replaced by the confusing reality of George, sleeping fully clothed, on a bed with a bare mattress. The room was dimly lit by a nightlight next to the door.
"George?" Her voice was a hoarse rasp, but it was enough to wake him up.
"Savvy Savi," he whispered, smiling as he sat up. "I'm glad you're awake." He grabbed a cup of water from the nightstand and held it out to her. "Drink this."
She started to sit up, but currents of pain coursed through her body and forced her back onto her pillow with a yelp.
George jumped up to stand beside her. After grimacing from his own pain, he said, "Take it easy. You had a rough night."
Rough night?
The horrifying events of last night came flooding back to her. Panic clawed at her throat. She tried to get out of the bed, wincing at a fresh shock of pain from her back.
"Shh, it's okay, Savi." George put a firm hand on her shoulder, but that only made her more anxious. "We're safe. We got away." He offered the water to her again. "Here, drink this. You need fluids."
Savi was about to ask where they were, but her stomach interrupted her with a growl.
"Let's get you some breakfast, huh?" he said, putting the cup down and limping to the door. "Take it slow. Come on out when you're ready. Just keep quiet. We don't want to wake their dad." He closed the door behind him before Savi thought to ask who they were.
After taking a sip and gingerly putting the cup back on the nightstand, Savi pulled back the sheets. She was still wearing the same tank top and shorts from the day before, but her bite wound was bandaged.
What happened last night? she wondered. How did we get away from Top? She got up and grabbed her shoes and socks by the foot of the bed, her body's stiffness and pain lessening the more she moved around.
As she tied her sneakers, Savi noticed the walls around her, covered with texts of different styles, sizes, and colors, dominating the windowless room. At first she thought it was a strange wallpaper, but as she stepped closer to it, she realized that the words were actually handwritten. In marker, pencil, and paint, someone had filled nearly every space with words. Some were written in florid, artistic script, while others were scribbled and illegible. Savi's heart quickened as a heavy trepidation crept over her.
Is this George's house, or an asylum?
The room was certainly spare enough for the latter. Other than the two beds, each with featureless metal frames, the only furniture were two wooden trunks and the simple nightstand.
Savi started toward the door when she paused beside a particularly ornate section of text. Running her fingers over the intricate scrolling artwork, she read the words it framed.
I am filled
with hopeless fear
of night.
Will dawn reveal
the broken man
I have become?
Is not my life
all empty lies?
Savi pulled away, shocked. She recognized the words. This poem was on her list to memorize. She leaned back in to read the second half, the power of the words coursing through her as she spoke them.
I am filled
with hope. Less fear
of night
will dawn reveal.
The broken man
I have become
is not my life.
All empty lies.
Her own hope flickered within, the warmth reminding her of her dream from the night before. She closed her eyes, trying to hold the fuzzy images still, but once again they evaded her.
She skimmed the walls, the beauty of the poetry dispelling her unease. Although few authors were listed, Savi knew several of them. The household names were well represented: Shakespeare, Thomas, Neruda, among many others. But there were also several from lesser known and contemporary poets, like Amy Lowell, Heather McHugh, and Russell Edson.
Making her way around the room, she caught a whiff of the sour scent that had awoken her. Searching for the source, her eye was drawn to the wall opposite the bedroom door, the wall she'd been facing away from when she woke up. It wasn't covered by poetry, but by a mural. The plastic tarp on the floor crinkled under Savi's feet as she stepped close. Brushes of different sizes, all stiff with paint, lay
in a tray beside a pallette and a small bucket filled with tubes of paint.
The mural was set in a picturesque valley, carpeted with colorful wildflowers and surrounded by rolling mountains. In the center of the valley, sitting on the edge of a lake, was a cave. Floating above the cave, against the backdrop of a solar eclipse, was a woman, her white dress billowing around her. Below, at the narrow mouth of the cave, a figure stood, his arms raised towards the woman.
Savi had never thought of George as the artistic type, but there was no denying the beauty of the scene, or the power of its ambiguity. While the landscape was intricately detailed, with the shadows of fish in the pond and bees among the flowers, the faces of the two people were hazy, with no details to speak of other than the open mouth of the figure on the ground. At first glance, it gave the impression of a religious encounter, a devout follower praising his benevolent goddess. But upon closer scrutiny, the figure's gaping mouth could just as easily be terror, and the faceless woman the angel of death.
Her stomach growled, reminding her of George's promise of breakfast. After lingering in front of the mural for another moment, Savi crossed the room and cautiously peered into the hallway. Across from her was a closed door, and to her right was the bathroom. At the other end a couch continued the hallway when the wall stopped, but if someone was sitting on it they were hidden from view.
She went to the bathroom first, waking herself up with a splash of cool water on her face and pulling out her snarly ponytail. Running her fingers through the larger tangles, Savi noticed long but pale bruises on each side of her neck.
Yesterday was just great all around, she thought, giving up on her hair and throwing it back up.
As she stepped out of the bathroom, the door across from the bedroom she'd woken up in opened. Savi froze at the sight of a man standing behind a walker, his skinny arms and legs amplified by his baggy shorts and t-shirt. He tilted his head up just enough for his stringy white hair to reveal dark eyes beneath.
"Who are you?" he asked in a wheezing whisper. Then he lifted his head high, casting a questioning look at the ceiling. He opened his mouth and stuck out the tip of his tongue, all the while taking deep, deliberate sniffs that made the hairs of his thick white mustache float upwards with every breath.
Still no sign of George, Savi spoke louder than necessary. "I'm Savi. I work with George."
George's head instantly peered around the corner of the hallway. At the same time, Savi was shocked to see Marley jump over the back of the couch and rush to the old man's side.
"Dad," Marley said. "This is Savi. We met her last night."
But his dad wasn't listening. He had stopped sniffing, seemingly catching the scent of whatever was tickling him. His eyes widened, and he turned a menacing look at Savi.
"You," he growled.
Savi hardly had time to glance nervously at Marley before the man violently swept his walker out of the way. Marley dodged the projectile as this man, who moments before had been too frail to walk, lifted Savi high off the ground. He slammed her against the wall, pinning her there with one hand and shoving his other wrist against her mouth.
"Bite me!" he shouted. "End what you started. Let me die a man!" Savi tried to pry the man's arm off her lips, but it was immovable.
As Marley scrambled up, George limped down the hall, shouting, "Hey now! Let her go!" He pulled with two hands on the arm that trapped Savi against the wall.
Without ever breaking eye contact with Savi, the man pushed George away with one hand so hard that he flew down the hall and crashed into the other side of the apartment.
"What are you doing?" shouted Savi, taking advantage of her mouth's temporary freedom.
"Dad! It's not her!" Marley cried, trying to insert himself between Savi and his father.
"I know it's you," the man said, ignoring his son and grinding his bony wrist against Savi's lips. She opened her mouth when she couldn't take the pain of her teeth cutting into the inside of her lips any longer, and the man jammed his arm into her mouth, making her gag. "Do it now."
Savi kicked and punched at the man, but Marley put his hands on hers. "No! Don't, please!" He turned to his father. "It's not her, Dad. Listen! She's not the silver wolf. This is a human, named Savi. We didn't get the wolf, but we will tonight."
"This is no human." Keeping his hold on Savi the man turned to his son. "And if it weren't the fool moon you'd know that as well as I, Marlais. It is her. She's werewolf. I smell it all over her."
"If she were, would she be this weak?"
The man stilled, eyeing Savi's struggling body. Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the vigor within him dissipated. He collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
"Are you okay?" Marley asked Savi as he bent down to pick up his father.
This was too much for Savi. She had thought the terrible night was over and that George had brought her somewhere safe, but she wasn't safe here. As soon as she caught her breath enough to stand, she bolted. She heard Marley call out for her, but she ignored both him and George, who lay still on the floor. Like an animal fleeing its cage, she burst out the front door. Desperate for freedom, she ran down a long hallway lined with identical doors.
There was something familiar about the place, but if she had been there before, she didn't remember where the exits were. Choosing hallways at random, she finally found a stairwell and ran down, searching for a door that led outside. A few flights down she heard Marley calling her name from above, but she couldn't stand the thought of being with him. She just wanted to escape this building, escape all of them and the horror they reminded her of. She needed to find a way home so she could curl up in her own bed and forget everything.
A ground level door appeared and she burst through it. She ran, following the sidewalk, relishing the warm sunlight and the normalcy of her surroundings. She looked around for a police car, someone with a phone, or anything that would help her get home.
The sidewalk she was running on edged the rear parking lot of a multi-building apartment complex. To her right, on the far side of the lot, were woods. To her left were the gray walls of the apartment buildings. This place definitely looked familiar. When she passed a small playground surrounded by a rainbow fence, Savi stopped so suddenly she slipped on loose gravel.
She did know this place. She knew exactly where she was.
Bits of her dream from the night before drifted back to her: someone reminding her of her inner strength, this rainbow fence, and a boy, reaching for her. The dream was a memory -- a memory that had once been very important to her.
Savi, six years old, running down the stairwell sobbing. She bursts through those very doors on the other side of the playground, seeking refuge under the arch of a half-buried rubber tire, clutching her most treasured possession.
The first she sees of the boy are his bare feet. They pause beside her, then disappear above as he climbs the tire she's hiding under. His head swings down, his hair the same color as the sand it touches.
"You're in the villain's secret lair."
He's older than she is, probably the same age as Winnie, which makes her nervous. "No I'm not! Leave me alone," Savi shouts.
"What's your super power?"
"I don't have a super power."
"Everyone has a super power," the boy says, unphased by Savi's misery.
"No I don't. Leave me alone!"
The boy's head disappears, and Savi wonders if he'll come back. But his feet soon dangle where his head just was, and he drops down, sitting beside her. With a heavy sigh and much resignation, he says, "Okay, what's the matter," and then makes a show of falling back into the sand.
"Winnie and Claude stole DD and drew mean things all over him!" Savi cries. "And all Nate did was say I shouldn't have it anyway. They're all so mean! Mommy's not home. She's never home."
The boy sits up. "Is that DD?" he asks, pointing to the stuffed animal in Savi's arms. She nods. "Can I see?"
Reluctantly, tentatively, Savi lifts her
toy away from her body. With not nearly enough appreciation for the gravity of her gesture, the boy reaches out and snatches it from her. He inspects the white dog, its smooth cotton exterior marred by red marker gashes, blood dripping from its mouth, brown smudges all around its tail, and other gruesome graffiti.
"Looks cool to me," the boy says.
"It's horrible!" Savi cries, grabbing her toy back and cradling it against her. "They ruined him. Now he'll never come back!"
"Maybe you can wash him. Do you have a sink?"
"Uh-huh. We have two sinks. But what if he's ruined forever?"
The boy thinks for a minute, staring at the girl's runny nose and runny eyes. "My dad says that what's on the outside doesn't count," he says. "No matter how you change, you're always the same, inside. But when you do change, it makes you stronger inside. Maybe that goes for toys too."
Savi sniffles. "Stronger inside? I can be stronger than Winnie and Claude?"
Leaning forward, he whispers, "Stronger than everybody, only they don't know it, because it's inside."
She likes the idea of being stronger than Nate's kids, but she wants them to know it so they'll stop being mean. "How do I make them know it?"
The boy shrugs his arms, and then holds the pose as he falls back into the sand again.
Wiping her nose on her arm, Savi studies her toy. "He does look kind of funny, I guess."
"Alright!" The boy jumps up. "So what's your super power going to be?"
Savi leans out from under the tire. The boy, with the sun shining behind him like a halo, extends his hand. She takes it, and he helps her up. Looking into the boy's pale green eyes, Savi considers his question. Then something her mother always says pops into her head. "I can never get lost." The boy opens his mouth but she adds, "And I can fly. And I'm the strongest."
The boy explains that a person can only have one superpower.
Marley ran up the sidewalk and stood beside her. He looked from her to the playground and back. Staring into his pale green eyes, Savi said, "It was you."
