G-157

by K. M. Malloy

  “Aren’t you excited for The Moto, Aire?” her father asked.

  “I am,” she said, unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face.

  “She’s not excited for the race,” Mitch said.

  “Shut up, Mitch.”

  “She’s excited about wearing Troy’s jersey to the race.”

  Both her parents raised their eyebrows. “Is that so?” her father asked.

  “Yes,” she said, and lowered her head at the thought of what would happen if they disapproved of her dating Troy. Kids weren’t allowed to see someone their parents disapproved of. It was against the law. The thought of not being able to be with him made her throat catch and her chest tighten.

  “Well,” her mother chirped as she stirred green beans around her plate. “You’ll be sure to let us take pictures of you two at the kick off dinner. He is going to be taking you there, isn’t he?”

  “I think so.”

  Both of her parents dropped their forks and jerked their heads to look at her, their faces painted in shock. She felt her gut drop, and beads of panicking sweat broke out on her forehead.

  “You think so?” her father asked.

  “Yes. Well actually that part wasn’t really made clear, but I’m pretty sure he is.”

  Her mother shook her head. “But you’re not sure?”

  “No.”

  “If you’re finished with dinner then I suggest you go straight over to Troy’s house to settle the matter,” her mother said as she pointed a stern finger at Aire. “And don’t you dare wear his jersey if he refuses to take you to the dinner. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “I’m finished,” she said, dropping her fork and pushing away from the table so quickly she almost offset the milk jug. She tossed her plate into the sink and hurried towards the front door.

  “Aire, grab your jacket,” her mother called.

  Groaning, she took the stairs two at a time to get her jacket from her room. One arm was sleeved and the other was fighting to become so when she came back down again.

  “Remember, nine o’clock,” her father said.

  “Okay,” she shouted as the screen door snapped shut behind her. Her smile warmed her face in the chilly night air as she started down the street, still in happy shock at her good luck. She laughed at herself for having ever thought her parents would disapprove of Troy. Of course they would like Troy. Everyone liked Troy. Troy was smart. Troy was funny. Troy was-

  Right in front of her.

  “What are you doing over here?”

  “I was going to your house,” she said. “What are you doing over here?”

  “I was going to your house.”

  An awkward laugh passed between the two, each shoving their hands deep into their coats. Already her palms were moist in sweat and she gripped the lining of her pockets in attempts to dry them.

  “Why were you going to my house?” Troy asked. “Did you want to do more work on our research paper?”

  “Um, yes. Yes I wanted to work on our paper,” she said, a nervous laugh tickling her throat.

  “Okay,” he said. The two joined step on the macadam street that glowed a dull orange under the sparse lampposts. A tense silence hung between them until they reach the end of the block.

  Aire could feel the insides of her pockets beginning to dampen from her sweating palms. She looked up into the night sky, finding her stars to the south. The Orion constellation popped in and out of sight as they passed the street lamps, the three stars making up the belt of the mythical hunter easy to spot. She always found strength and comfort looking up to those stars, knowing that they were always watching over her, always there to guide her.

  “Why don’t you have any books then?” Troy asked, interrupting her thoughts. “You can’t work on the paper without books.”

  “That’s true.” She gave one last glance up to the sky before taking a deep breath and looking back to Troy. “I lied, but I’ll tell you the truth if you tell me why you were coming to my house.”

  Troy’s tan skin turned a light cherry color as he scratched the back of his neck. “I was actually coming to ask you if you wanted to go to the kick off dinner with me. I thought, you know, since you were wearing my jersey and everything it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t officially ask you to go with me.”

  “Oh,” she smiled. “Well in that case I have to confess. I was actually coming over to ask if you wanted to take me to the dinner.”

  They reached Troy’s house, and he leaned upon the white picket fence surrounding the property. “Good. Glad we both know I’ll be taking you to the dinner Thursday night.”

  “Yeah,” she said, and leaned on the fence next to him.

  “So, what do you want to do now that you’re here?”

  She glanced around to be sure they were alone and leaned in closer to him. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Yes, I can wash my jersey before I give it to you.”

  “No, not that, but it would be nice. I need you to take me to the hospital to go see Becky. You know she was taken to the hospital today to have her baby, right?”

  “Yeah, but people don’t visit people in the hospital.”

  “Well I want to visit Becky. I think it would be a nice surprise, don’t you?”

  “No, not really. She needs to rest. And it’s against the rules.”

  “Please?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Oh come on Troy. I’d do it for you. Besides, you owe me.”

  “For what?”

  “For leaving me in the dark about whether or not you were taking me to the dinner.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I was so embarrassed because I didn’t know what to tell people when they asked if you were taking me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “And my friends said how sorry they felt for me because you didn’t ask and my mother sent me away from dinner early and-“

  “Okay.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll take you to go see Becky.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” he smiled. “I already knew I was going to have to make that up to you somehow. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind though.”

  “Thanks, Troy.”

  “You’re welcome. This way,” he said as he opened the gate for her. “What if we get caught?”

  “We won’t get caught.”

  “What if we do?”

  “We won’t.”

  “I hope you’re right,” he sighed, and led her up the driveway.

  Ten minutes later, Troy had taken his dirt bike from the garage to the street and they climbed aboard, Aire’s hands wrapping around his waist as he steadied the bike. Her head swam as she pressed her chest against the strong muscles of his back, inhaling his fresh scent of soap laced with a tinge of pine. Heat radiated from her thighs as she imagined his shirtless torso.

  “We have to take the Sixty-Six, right?” he asked.

  “Mmmhmm,” she breathed.

  “What?”

  “Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “We have to go west on the Sixty-Six.”

  The engine roared to life with one swift kick. She welcomed the night air cooling her flushed cheeks as they started down the neighborhood, wondering what had come over her. The strange feeling had faded with each passing house as they made their way out of John’s Town for the first time in their lives.

  Bushes and tall grass ruffled in the breeze as they passed the rows of identical houses on their trek out of the neighborhood and into the business district. The smells of sugar baked ham and fresh sourdough bread from the bakery and deli on the corner of Bourbon and Ranchero began to fade behind them, and they soon found themselves gazing upon the half a dozen farms on the west side of John’s Town. Threats of frost were finally over for the year, and the long pinstripe rows of newly planted crops rushing by dizzied her eyes as she tried to see what types of new sprouts were appearing from the cool black earth. A few wayward goat
s along the fences looked up from their grazing to stare up at them dumbly, and several trash bags sat waiting for the cleanup crew along the shoulder of the road.

  The highway was straight and smooth enough now that Aire didn’t have to hold on to Troy any longer, but her arms remained tightly wrapped around his lithe torso. Her mind wandered away from the passing livestock and cropland into a fantasy of her and the boy waving goodbye to this place once and for all. Euphoria washed over her as she envisioned what their future great escape would be like.

  In this world he was the one who rescued from her from the dungeon on Roanoke Street, whisking her away from her high tower prison and the dragons of the village on his steel horse, galloping towards new escapades under a full moon. They’d be the legend of John’s Town, the bold two who scoffed at the monotony of a safe life and set into the dangerous unknown to find true love and wild adventure. The delicious taste of the dream intoxicated her being, swelling her soul with a richness of hope. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight as she smiled broadly to the darkness when they passed Calgas Road. This was the farthest she’d ever been outside of the city, and if she could make it this far, she could make it to the far reaches of the Earth if she wanted.

  “Look,” Troy shouted over the wind.

  There was a light ahead of them, a bright yellow light flashing on the horizon. It was an electronic billboard advertising the new model Hornet dirt bike that had come out two months ago. She had seen pictures of billboards in their textbooks before, but never one in real life.

  “It’s amazing,” she shouted. “Look, there’s another one.”

  She smiled and craned her neck to see the billboard advertisement for a pair of jeans. She couldn’t believe the look of the model in the ad. The woman was so tall, so stunning. Aire had never seen women with such gorgeously painted eyes, such sculpted shoulders, and lips so incredibly red that she could not look away from their brilliance. The sheen of her platinum blond hair and mile long legs of grace reminded her of a mermaid in the picture books she had cherished as a child. The brilliance of the lights and model’s beauty cascaded waves of excitement through her veins as they escaped farther away from the city, and Aire had the same giddy sensation now that she had while tiptoeing down the stairs on Christmas morning to open the exact present she had yearned for all year. The Meeting Tree came to mind, and though she knew it was dumb and childish, she wished The Meeting Tree would let her meet spectacular women like the one in the billboard, women who were stunning with that look of intelligence and knowing in their eyes. It’s like she knows what I think about Troy, she thought as they came to the billboard and then passed it.

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” she asked. Only the deep rumble of rushing wind grazing her ears answered her. She cleared her throat and repeated even louder, “aren’t they beautiful?”

  The billboard was a hazy outline behind them now. Her skin tightened over her muscles as she felt the space between them begin to constrict with static tension. The bike began to slow. Oh no, was that stupid to say? Is that why he’s slowing down, to tell me how silly I am like the others do?

  Stop it, she told herself. Troy’s not like that and you know it. He’s probably slowing down so you can look at the billboard longer, now be cool. She focused on steadying her breathing, and forced a smile.

  “Oh, look at that one,” she shouted. The billboard ahead harbored a rainbow of flashing lights, its luminosity blazing across the dull grey fields as they approached it. There was no picture on this one. She jutted her chin forward, searching it for any sign of an advertisement, but there was nothing, only a flurry of flashing lights in the darkness as the bike continued to slow. It idled down into first, coming to a stop in the middle of the highway under the empty pulsating rainbow.

  “Troy, what are you doing?”

  The engine ceased. Her ears rang in the new quiet, the sound of engine and smell of gasoline resonating around her body. The ringing began to dissipate, enabling the sounds of the night to chime through. A crisp breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees. Crickets chirped in their reestablished peace, yet still no sounds from the boy, only a quivering in his muscles.

  “Troy?” The slight tremors of his back magnified as his shoulders started to shake. A great sob from deep within him echoed across the fields. “Troy, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t…I don’t know,” he gasped. “I just got so… so sad all of a sudden.”

  “Sad about what?”

  “I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I just feel like…like life is over if I go one more inch.” He turned to look at her from the corner of his eye, and wiped away the wetness glistening on his cheek with his jacket sleeve. “I’m sorry, Aire, but I just can’t keep going.”

  “Okay,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “It’s really okay. We can turn around if you want. I won’t be mad.”

  He nodded and kicked the bike, maneuvering it in a half circle to face town. His wrist racked back on the gas as he gunned the engine. The front wheel leapt from the ground as he hammered on full throttle until they were topped out in fifth gear. The wind ripped at her cheeks and stole the wetness from her eyes as they charged back to John’s Town. Her hands stung in their tight grip around his waist, her breath coming in staggered gasps at the dangerous speed. She squeezed her eyes tighter, silently pleading for him to slow down. Her heart began to pump faster with every bump and jar that sent her rear flying up from the seat. Her hands made damp splotches on Troy’s shirt as she clung to him. She wanted to speak up, to tell him to slow down before he got them both killed, but she couldn’t. She could only hold on and silently plead to him, and soon, he began to slow.

  She opened her eyes to see the familiar shops along Bourbon once more, astonished at how quickly they had returned. He continued to slow as they went further into town, puttering down the empty streets and finally stopping when they reached her house. Her parents peered through the living room window, and quickly rushed back to their places on the couch and pretended to read as they watched her from the corners of their eyes. She led him behind the giant oak tree in the corner of the yard to escape their prying.

  “Listen, Aire,” he began.

  She put her hand up to silence him. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

  “No, I do.” He took a step closer to her, his height causing her to suck in her breath. “Look, I don’t know what happened back there. I’ve never cried in my life. I didn’t even know people were still capable of crying. It was like I just had such a wave of… I don’t even know what. It was the most awful thing I’ve ever felt. I just wanted to end everything and never breathe again. But as soon as I turned that bike around, I felt better. And when we passed the last billboard, I felt like myself again.”

  The porch light flickered on and off. She sighed and ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

  “Look,” she told him. “I don’t understand what happened either, but I don’t think less of you because of it.”

  “Really?” The crease in his brow faded as a smile began to take hold of his thin cheeks.

  “Really. And I won’t tell anyone at school about it either,” she said, offering a small grin. “Still giving me your jersey?”

  “Of course I am,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “You’re the best.”

  “You’d do the same,” she said as she buried her face into his chest, taking in one last breath of his scent. She let go and nodded her head. “Goodnight, Troy.”

  “Goodnight, Aire.”

  She plodded to her front porch as his footsteps crunched across the grass to the street. Mounting the steps, she turned to wave at him. “See you Monday,” she called.

  “Can’t wait,” he shouted over the bike’s engine.

  She waited until he disappeared around the corner to turn towards the house. Her hand resting upon the doorknob,
she took a deep breath before opening the front door. Her parents looked up at her, grinning when she entered the living room.

  “How was your ride?”

  “It was good.”

  “Really,” her mother said. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, it was good,” she said, forcing a smile.

  “Good. And you settled the kick off dinner matter?”

  “Yes, mother. Goodnight.”

  She scurried up the stairs, closing her bedroom door behind her for another sleepless night.

  Chapter Seven

  John’s Town

  In the beginning…

  Ronny and Richie Tillman slipped quietly through the streets, the knife and book of matches in Richie’s pocket slapping quietly against his thigh. The boys went relatively unnoticed, though a few bystanders shot queer looks their way at seeing the boys out so early, and without their mother to boot.

  “So what we gonna do with those matches, Richie?” Ronny asked his brother as they turned onto Buffalo Trail. “You want to burn down that stupid school?”

  “Maybe,” Richie said as he scanned the tree lined dirt road. “Maybe.”

  “Aw, that would be so fun. Get those jerks back for kickin us out. That would be great. We could even-“

  “Shh,” Richie hissed.

  “What is it?”

  Richie grabbed his brother by the shirt and yanked him into the bushes, his eyes staring at the road ahead.

  “What is it, Rich?”

  He put his fingers to his lips and pointed down the road. Ronny squinted his eyes and pushed aside a thick branch that blocked his view. A smile swept across his face when he saw Stacey Tilker coming up the road alone, school books in hand.

  “Oh, she’s nice looking,” Ronny whispered. “Look at those legs.”

  “When she gets to that blackberry bush right there,” Richie said, pointing to the thorny bush a few feet from them, “we’re going to jump out and grab her.”

  “What?” Ronny’s eyes widened.

  “We’re gonna grab her.”