Falling For Fire

by Talia Jager

I pointed to a picture of something cold looking. “That please.”

  “Ice cream?”

  “Yes. Ice cream.” That sounded delightful.

  “Okay,” the lady said, looking a little confused. “Any certain flavor?”

  I scrunched my face while I thought. “The brown one?”

  “Chocolate?”

  Chocolate. I knew that. Why did I say the brown one? What was wrong with me today? “Yes, please.”

  While I waited for my ice cream, I played with the rings on my fingers. Three were snowflakes, but the one on my right hand was a sun. It was bigger, bulkier—more masculine than the snowflakes. It definitely seemed out of place. A few minutes later, Anela delivered three brown round scoops in a glass bowl. She handed me a spoon and I went to take it, but hesitated. “Do you have a um…plastic spoon?”

  The lady arched her eyebrows, and she put the spoon back behind the bar and brought out a white plastic spoon.

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I dug into the ice cream and took a bite. “Mmmm.” I shoveled the rest in my mouth. Waving Anela down, I asked, “May I have another?”

  “Another bowl of ice cream?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She took my bowl and started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “You do have money, right?”

  Money? “I uh…” I grabbed my purse and opened it. There were a few bills inside. “Yes. I do.”

  A look of relief passed over Anela’s face. “One more bowl coming up.”

  Ten minutes later, I had devoured another bowl of ice cream. I almost asked for a third but decided not to press my luck. “Are you open every day?” I asked when I handed Anela my money.

  “Yes.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  Back out in the hot sun, I walked toward the ocean. Once on the beach, I took off my shoes and dug my feet into the ground. The cool sand felt good, natural, and I liked that. The waves slid, like the swish of a curtain, onto the sand. The water was hypnotizing. I could sit and watch it forever.

  I tore my gaze away from the water and people-watched for a while before deciding it was time to go back home. My new job started tomorrow, and I wanted to be rested.

  It took about an hour to get back. I grabbed some fruit on the way in and cut them up, making a fruit salad. Plopping down on the couch, I studied the long, black thing with all of the buttons. “I know this turns on that box over there.” I let out a sigh. “TV. It’s a TV. And this is a remote.”

  Finally, I remembered—the button with the red circle and a line running through half of it turned it on. I pushed it, and the TV sprang to life. “What’s wrong with my memory today? Better not be a tumor in my head.”

  I flipped channels until I found something that interested me, then I put the remote down and started to eat my food.

  I had to open a few drawers before finding my pj’s: a tank top and shorts. In the bottom of my closet, I saw a box. I pulled it out, and as I opened it, I remembered it was full of my stylist supplies. “I need to remember to bring this tomorrow, and with my memory the way it’s been today, I think I will stick it by the door,” I said out loud to myself.

  I crawled in bed, leaving the covers off. Even with the air-conditioning running at high, it was hot. Sleep did not come easily. I tossed and turned until the wee hours of the morning.

  Even though I had hardly slept, I woke up with the sun. I stayed in bed for a while though thinking about why everything seemed so weird. I didn’t come up with any answers. Forcing myself out of bed, I got ready for work.

  Following the directions on the map with the job offer, I found the salon with time to spare. The name, Iekika’s, was above the door in bold white letters.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of nicely scented chemicals tickled my nose. The floors in the waiting room were hardwood, the walls were painted a light green, and there were flowers and plants scattered around the room along with nice paintings to look at. The check-in desk was on the wall facing the door. The wall to my right was all shelves and contained tons of nicely organized products. Two couches and four chairs lined the other two walls, with a large table containing about thirty magazines in front of the couches.

  I walked up to the desk where a dark-haired girl with tan skin sat. “Hey. I’m Rory Burkheart. I start working here today.”

  The girl looked up, glancing at my hair, her lips curling up in a smile. “Love it.”

  “Thanks.” I felt my face warm.

  She stood up. “Follow me.” She led me to the back to an office. “Kika? The new hire is here.”

  “Thank you, Kala. Show her in.”

  Kika stood to the side, and I walked past her into the office. “Good morning,” I greeted the woman behind the desk.

  “Please sit.” She gestured to the chair. I sat down and waited for her to finish writing something down. Looking up, she leaned forward, her almond-shaped eyes shining with kindness. I handed her my paperwork. After reading it, she said, “Rory. Interesting name. I hired you as a favor to a friend. He told me a little about you. You graduated early from one of the best schools and recently moved here. Usually I don’t hire anyone who doesn’t have experience. As I said, I’m doing this as a favor. I really hope I did the right thing.” She hesitated, and I could tell she wanted me to reassure her.

  “I understand. I am young and inexperienced, but I’m smart which is why I graduated early and with high scores. I can speak many languages, but most of all I love doing hair, and I’m good at it, which is what the school will say if you call and ask about me. Please let me prove myself. You won’t regret it.”

  She leaned back in her chair and studied me. “You do your hair?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s have a trial period. A week. If either of us doesn’t like the situation after that, we’ll part ways with no bad feelings.”

  “Deal. Thank you.” I tapped my box. “Where do I set up?”

  “Station Four is yours.”

  I spent half an hour setting up my area. Two other stylists introduced themselves, but I could tell they were skeptical. No worries, I told myself. I would show them.

  One examined my scissors as I laid them out. “What kind of scissors are those?”

  “I have an allergy to some metals, so these are specially made,” I explained.

  The morning was slow. The only people who came in already had appointments. Kika walked by. “You can take a lunch break, Rory. We get more walk-ins in the afternoon and evening.”

  There was a place that sold salads and wraps down the block, so I grabbed my wallet and walked over. When I was done there, I realized Frozen Sweets was two doors down. Anela looked up when I walked in. “Back again?”

  “Your ice cream is delicious,” I told her.

  “Thank you. What can I get for you this time?”

  “Do you have something to go?” I asked.

  “Like a cone?”

  “Sure. Can I have a pink one this time?”

  “Strawberry cone coming right up.”

  I took my time walking back to the salon as I licked the ice cream, savoring the cold on my tongue.

  Kika was right. Walk-ins increased as the day went on. My first client was a lady who wanted a shorter cut. After talking to her for a few minutes, we found a style she liked, and I cut her hair. I noticed Kika watching a few times and was thrilled when I got a good tip.

  My next client was a man needing a trim. As I was finishing up, I heard the bell ring on the door, letting us know someone had walked in, and then voices from Kala and whoever had just walked in.

  “No, she’s not here yet, but a new girl just started.”

  In the mirror I saw a face peer around the corner. She looked me over and then disappeared again. “Hmmm. Okay. I’ll try her.”

  “You sure? Mele will be here in twenty minutes.”

  “I’m sure.”

 
; A minute after the man left, the girl who had peeked back at me came over. “Hi. I’m Kailani.” She wasn’t much older than I was.

  “Rory.”

  “You look sad,” she said, dropping into the chair.

  “Nah. Just in a mood, I suppose.”

  “Nice ink.”

  I glanced in the mirror at the tattoo on my shoulder. “Thanks.”

  She had a lot of ink of her own. Her short jean shorts showed off the tattoos on her legs. On her left leg were pink-red flowers on a vine from her knee to her foot. On her right leg, I could see part of a different flower design that went from her knee to under her shorts.

  Kailani’s long-sleeve plaid shirt was rolled up just enough that I could see she had tattoos on her arms but couldn’t see what they were. “So, you’re new here.”

  “I am.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “Nowhere nearby.” I put the cape around her neck and pulled her long, dark hair out. I brushed through it. She had no layers or bangs. A million different hair ideas popped into my head. “What would you like done to your hair?”

  “Just trim it.”

  “How about some layers?”

  “No. Just needs a trim.”

  After washing her hair, I used a comb and began trimming it.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Um…not long.”

  “Do you live close by?”

  “Yeah. It’s less than an hour walk.”

  “You walk that far to work?” She looked up at me.

  “Yes. Hold still, please.”

  “Sorry. Why do you walk?”

  “It’s beautiful out. I enjoy the outside. Also, I don’t like cars.”

  “I see. I walk too, but I only live a block away. I do just about everything right here.”

  More hairstyles flashed in my mind as I ran my hand through her hair. She could do so much with it, but I knew better than to push.

  I wanted to be friendly and hold a conversation, although I was still feeling a little fuzzy and didn’t want to sound stupid. Her dark complexion told me she was from here, so I asked, “Did you grow up close by?”

  “Yup. Lived here all my life.” She studied me in the mirror. “Do you like doing hair?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you like most about it?”

  “Making people happy. Giving people a new look.”

  “I completely understand.” She smiled.

  I was done a few minutes later, and I turned her to face the mirror.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed. “Good job. Just the way I like it.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  Kailani handed me a tip. “My card is in there too. I work down the street. Drop in and say hi.”

  “I will. Thanks.” I looked at the card as she walked to the front desk. Northern Lights Ink. Her name, Kailani Kealoha, was on the bottom right with a phone number.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sorin

  The dull ache in my head still hadn’t gone away since that morning three days ago when I woke up unable to catch my breath. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something continued to feel off.

  I shuffled my feet to the bathroom to get ready. Today was the day I started my new job teaching self-defense. Feeling the draft come through the wall, I wished I could remember why in the world I had decided to move to Alaska of all places. I didn’t like the cold.

  The one-bedroom log cabin was nestled in the woods about two miles from town. Thankfully, it was somewhat warm, and the jog wasn’t too bad. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do in the winter when temperatures never got above freezing.

  Right now in May, the sun stayed out for about eighteen hours. You would think that would warm it up a bit, but it didn’t get above sixty. And the nights, oh, the nights were still down near freezing. I slept with four blankets on top of me.

  After doing warm-up exercises, I put my bright red-purple backpack on my back and jogged to work.

  The gym stood in front of me. I couldn’t help but think about how much I’d rather have an outside job. Being cooped up didn’t seem fun at all, but life wasn’t all about fun. I needed a job to pay the bills, and maybe someday I’d have the time to spend outside. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked into the gym. A girl with black hair behind the desk looked up and smiled. “Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

  Holding up my ID, I said, “I’m the new self-defense coach.”

  “Oh! Cool.” She pointed to a door on her right. “Through there. First room.”

  “Thanks.”

  The name on the door read Dirk Neal. I knocked, and a man’s voice answered, “Come in.”

  I entered and stood in front of a buff Alaskan man. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m Sorin Carmichael.”

  “I know.” He looked up. “You’re not from around here.”

  “No. I’m from Florida.”

  “Big climate change.”

  “Yeah…”

  “You’ll share an office with a couple others. There’s a class schedule on the wall. Welcome to the team, Sorin.” He shook my hand.

  “Thanks.”

  I strolled down the hall until I found the office. Nobody was there, so I put my bag in the corner and took a look at the schedule. I taught my first class in a little over an hour. Wandering around the building for the next hour helped get me acclimated.

  As I taught my first class, thoughts invaded my mind about how this wasn’t what I pictured my life turning out like. It wasn’t that I hated teaching or doing this, it just seemed as if there were more important things I should be helping with. There was nothing I could do about it now. I had up and moved—for what? To get away from everything that reminded me of my last girlfriend? Moving to Alaska might have been a bit on the extreme side; maybe I should have moved to the next city or even state instead. Now I was stuck in a cold place teaching classes.

  After my classes, I went back to the office and looked at the schedule for the next day.

  “Hey!” A dark-haired guy walked in.

  “Hey.” I nodded.

  “What kind of martial arts do you practice?”

  “All of them.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “What about stick fighting?”

  “Sure.”

  “Hand-to-hand combat?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you doing right now?”

  “Going home.”

  “Do you want to spar?”

  I laughed. “You ready to lose?”

  “You’re new here, so I’ll let that go.” He winked. “You in?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He led me to an empty room with mats covering the floor and walls, and we faced each other. He started easy, with some basic karate, and moved up to hand-to-hand combat. He was good, but I knew I was better. I stopped myself from taking him down. Maybe it was better to let him win this time. I didn’t want him to feel threatened by my presence. I needed a friend.

  After purposely losing to him, he stood up and stuck out his hand. “You’re good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m Trevor Nash.”

  “Sorin Carmichael.”

  “Nice ink,” he complimented.

  “Thanks.” I glanced at the four element symbols on my arm.

  “Why isn’t the fourth one colored?”

  “I didn’t get to finish it,” I answered.

  “What to go grab a bite?”

  “Sure.”

  Trevor led me down the block to a tavern, where I studied the menu completely unsure of what to get. He ordered a burger and fries, and I got a grilled chicken salad.

  “Salad?” He laughed.

  “I grew up in a family that didn’t eat a lot of meat, especially red meat. Lots of vegetarians.”

  “You should try a burger.”

  “That’s okay.”

  The fire roaring in a big stone
fireplace caught my attention, and I stared at it for a while. Trevor kept talking although I wasn’t sure what he was saying. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice my inattentiveness.

  When the food arrived, he finally grew quiet and I was able to enjoy the food. He practically inhaled his burger and was finished before I was. “So do you ski? Snowboard?”

  “I don’t ski. What’s a snowboard?”

  “Like surfing, but on snow.” I guessed my expression confused him. “You must have surfed in Florida.”

  “No.”

  “Well, you need to try snowboarding. We’ll go sometime.”

  The girl from the front desk was there. She noticed me looking at her and smiled.

  “Oh, that’s Nyla. Looks like she’s got her eye on you.”

  Nyla was good looking, but when I thought about dating, I had an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. Dating was not something I wanted to do.

  “You have a girl?” Trevor asked.

  I hesitated. “Uh…no.”

  “Well, there’s one for you.” He motioned to Nyla. “She’s lived here her whole life, so we’re all like family to her.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready to date quite yet.”

  “Bad experience?”

  I shrugged. “Bad breakup.”

  “Got it.” He shoved a few French fries in his mouth.

  “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “Yup.” He swallowed. “Her name is Heidi. She is in class tonight.”

  “I look forward to meeting her.”

  After dinner, we walked outside. “Where’s your car?” Trevor asked.

  “I don’t have one.”

  Trevor raised one eyebrow. “How are you getting home?”

  “Walking.”

  “You’re not afraid of animals or anything?”

  I thought about it for a few seconds. “No.”

  “Okay. Well, do you want a ride home?” He motioned to his truck.

  I shook my head. “No thanks. The walk and fresh air help me clear my head.”

  “All right. See you tomorrow.”

  Thinking about the day’s events as I walked home, I was glad to have made a friend. I might not be thrilled about my job, but I was grateful to have one. I still didn’t understand the feelings I had about not belonging here, but I attributed it to being the new guy.