The Awakening

by McBean, Brett

  Toby glanced over at Gloria, sitting in one of the booths with Danielle and Emma; she was looking over in Debbie’s direction, a concerned look on her face.

  Mr. Patterson sighed, said, “Sorry ‘bout that folks. We’re closing in about twenty minutes, so now’s a good time to finish what you’ve got and start getting out those wallets.”

  As Mr. Patterson headed back to his place behind the counter, the diner continued to buzz with talk and laughter.

  Twenty minutes later, as people were starting to leave, Gloria stopped by their table. “Hey guys. Some scene before, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Toby said.

  “That guy’s crazy,” Frankie said, finishing off his third shake for the evening—another chocolate.

  “Say, everyone’s heading up to Taylor’s Hill. Keeping the party going, you know? A sort of a celebration for the official start of summer vacation. I was going to head up there, you guys are more than welcome to come.”

  Toby and Frankie exchanged looks: a combination of fear and excitement.

  They had never been to Taylor’s Hill at night, aside from a few times when they were younger and had ridden their bikes over (this was back when Frankie had a bike, before it broke) to try and catch some of the older kids making out—or better yet, having sex. But they had always hidden behind trees, keeping well out of sight.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun,” Gloria said. “There’ll be heaps of people there.”

  All kinds of thoughts ran through Toby’s mind, good and bad: people drinking, people doing drugs, people making out—he and Gloria making out—Dwayne crashing the party; it all flooded Toby’s mind and he didn’t know whether to say yes, no or maybe. After all, he knew his parents would never agree to him going to such a party; neither would Suzie. And he was already on thin ice with his father.

  “Hurry up, Gloria,” Emma called. “Chip’s leaving.”

  Gloria sighed, said, “Yeah, I’m coming,” then turned back to Toby and Frankie. “So, how about it?”

  “Um, well...” Toby stumbled.

  “Yeah, sure, we’ll be there,” Frankie said.

  Gloria smiled. “Great, well, see you guys there.” Her gaze lingered on Toby before she turned around and hurried out of Patterson’s, along with her friends.

  “Why’d you say yes for?” Toby said. “I mean, it’s Taylor’s Hill...at night...our parents...”

  “Don’t need to know. Relax,” Frankie said. “We’re going to high school in a few months, about time we had some real fun.”

  Toby jumped when Warrick, appearing out of nowhere, draped an arm around Toby’s shoulders. “She likes you, man,” he said, grinning. “Gorgeous Gloria likes you. Holy shit!”

  Toby flung Warrick’s bony arm away. “She does not,” Toby said, his defenses firing. “She’s just being friendly.”

  Warrick slapped Toby on the back. “Duh, that’s because she likes you! So you guys coming up to Taylor’s Hill? Gonna be a wild time.” He nudged Toby’s arm. “A real wild time, hey Fairchild. Say, you got some rubbers? You might need them...”

  “Get lost,” Toby said, springing to his feet. “That’s all you ever think about.”

  Warrick paused, a frown plastered on his face. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that? Isn’t that what all guys our age think about?”

  “We’d better hurry if we want a lift up there,” Frankie said. “I’m sure Leah’s going, and I don’t feel like walking all the way over there.”

  “Too late, your sis already left,” Warrick said.

  Frankie stood and scanned the diner, which had thinned out considerably. Sure enough, there was no sign of Leah Wilmont. “Oh, man,” Frankie groaned.

  Toby left the table and walked up to the counter, Frankie and Warrick following.

  Once they had paid for their meals, they headed for the door.

  Outside the night was humid, thick with the smell of possibilities. “Well I ain’t walking to Taylor’s Hill,” Toby said.

  “How else you gonna get there?”

  “By bike,” Toby told Warrick. “I left my BMX at Jinks Field.” Toby looked at Frankie. “You wanna come? Or else you can go with Warrick and I’ll meet you guys up there.”

  Frankie turned to Warrick.

  “Hey, don’t look at me. I’ve already got a lift. And there’s no room left in the car.”

  Frankie sighed. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

  Toby nodded and together they started down Main Street.

  “See you guys there,” Warrick called out. “And watch-out for old perverts! Paar-tyyyy!”

  “I reckon Warrick has been drinking,” Frankie said.

  Toby shrugged. “Hadn’t noticed.”

  Frankie sighed again. “Man, can’t believe Leah ditched us. Now we have to walk all the way to Jinks Field, then get all the way out to Taylor’s Woods.”

  Jinks Field was a fifteen-minute walk from Patterson’s, and from there it was about twenty minutes on foot to Taylor’s Woods.

  “I wish I still had my bike, then we could both ride up there.”

  “Well we don’t have to go to the party,” Toby said. They turned left and started up Longview Road. Away from the store lights and street lamps, the night was dark—their only light now came from the full moon.

  “You don’t want to go? Hell, I was thinking mostly of you when I said yes.”

  “I can think for myself.”

  Frankie huffed, loudly. “Warrick was right, Toby. Gloria likes you. God knows why, but she does. It’s obvious to everyone but you. I mean, she comes and sits with you and talks to you at the baseball game, then comes with you to Patterson’s instead of going with her friends, and then she invites you to go to Taylor’s Hill. Could it be any more obvious?”

  “First of all, I came and sat near Gloria at the baseball game; she was just being polite when she came up and sat with me. Secondly, she came with you, me and Leah to the diner; her sister is best friends with yours, remember? And lastly, she invited us both to Taylor’s Hill. Hell, maybe she likes you. You ever thought about that?”

  “I wish,” Frankie said. “But come on, we both know that ain’t the truth. I saw how she was looking at you. She’s into you, man. But hey, if you don’t want to go to Taylor’s Hill and spend some time with her, then that’s fine with me. I don’t care either way. I’m just as happy to go home and play some Xbox.”

  Toby stopped. Frankie halted, turned, and in the moon’s glow, Toby saw him frown. “What?”

  Toby drew in a deep breath, and then expelled hot air. “I’m scared,” he said. “Okay? I’m scared.”

  “About what?”

  “About everything. About Gloria liking me, about going up to Taylor’s Hill. I mean, of course I want Gloria to like me. It’s all I’ve dreamt about for as long as I can remember. But now that it may actually be happening...” He shrugged. He didn’t know how to put into words exactly what he was feeling. He and Frankie told each other almost everything, but they rarely discussed their feelings.

  How could he tell Frankie that he was scared about growing up? That he was scared about starting high school, about leaving behind all that was familiar and safe? He liked the idea of staying at home playing video games with his best friend, or watching horror movies late at night. He liked doing those things; they were what he was used to. He wasn’t sure whether he was ready to go to Taylor’s Hill at night, not with a bunch of high school kids, not even with Gloria. What if he made a complete idiot of himself? Embarrassing himself in front of Frankie, or even Leah, was one thing, but in front of a girl he liked so much it hurt, in front of a bunch of older kids, most of whom would be attending the same school as him come September?

  That scared him.

  But Toby didn’t have the words to express these feelings to Frankie. He just hoped Frankie felt the same way, and understood where he was coming from.

  “Yeah, well, you always were a scaredy-cat,” Frankie said and smiled, and in that smile Toby knew Frankie understood. />
  “Come on, we’d better get moving,” Toby said. “It’s gonna be late enough by the time we get up there. I told Mom I’d be home by eleven at the latest. And she’d flip if she knew where we were really going.”

  “We don’t have to stay long,” Frankie said, ambling beside Toby. “Just an hour, tops. I mean, Gloria is expecting us... you... so we’ll just go, see what’s happening, and then, if we don’t feel comfortable, we leave.”

  Toby nodded. He was already feeling better about the situation.

  They walked in silence for a bit, the nighttime sounds of owls hooting, cicadas buzzing and dogs barking loud around them. Then Frankie said, “You remember the dream you told me about the other day? The strange one about being locked inside a box?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You remember you asked me if I had ever had a strange dream like that? Well I had one last night. A real weird dream. It still creeps me out thinking about it.”

  Remembering his dream last night, the one where he was naked on a stage, being controlled by other people, like a marionette, Toby shivered. “What happened?”

  “I dreamt I was drowning. But it wasn’t just that I was underwater and couldn’t get to the surface; someone was holding me down. Actually had a hold of my legs and was pulling me down further. I kicked and struggled, but they wouldn’t let go. There was someone up above, I could just see them through the murky water, but I wasn’t sure if it was my mom, or just some stranger. I couldn’t see them properly. But I felt like they were calling me to swim to them. I tried, man how I tried, but I just couldn’t break free from the person’s grip. Man I was scared. But you wanna know the weirdest part of the dream?”

  “What?”

  “When I looked down to see who was holding my legs, I saw you.”

  Toby shook his head. “Yeah, that is weird.”

  “When I woke, I had trouble breathing. It took me like ten seconds before I could take proper deep breaths and not feel like I was drowning. It was freaky, man.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” Toby said, and he was about to tell Frankie about his latest dream, but they arrived at Jinks Field. So Toby decided to wait until they were on their way to Taylor’s Hill.

  Toby was relieved to see his BMX still resting against the high chain link fence.

  Guess Mom was right, after all, Toby thought.

  The night was suddenly eerily quiet, with only the faintest hint of a breeze. The field was a dark, empty wasteland, the bleachers a big black blob nearby.

  It was a stark contrast to Friday night, with all the noise and thick amalgam of dust and exhaust fumes.

  Toby’s gut tightened at the memory of all those teenagers hollering and laughing, eyes wide with excitement as they harassed and assaulted a perfect stranger.

  What did Warrick call it? Giving the bum a nice Belford welcome.

  As they walked towards Toby’s bike, there was a sound, like a car door thumping shut somewhere in the distance. Frankie paused and glanced around. “You hear that?”

  Toby shrugged. “Yeah, it was a car door. Big deal. Now look who’s the scaredy-cat.” Toby stepped up to his bike.

  Standing back, Frankie chuckled nervously. “Hey, maybe it’s that bum. Maybe he didn’t leave town, after all.”

  “Yeah, maybe he’s come to get more arms for his collection,” Toby said, meaning to sound jokey, but instead his voice was shaking as much as his hands were.

  Watch-out for old perverts...

  As he reached out and gripped the handlebars he heard footsteps behind him, coming up fast.

  He thought it was Frankie, but then he smelled a sour smell, like sweat mixed with beer, and his mouth went dry.

  Frankie screamed. It sounded like a knife scraping through ice.

  Toby started to turn. Something heavy struck the back of his head. He grunted, and bright flashes danced before his eyes. The pain was overwhelming, and as the second blow hit, Frankie stopped screaming and Toby heard a weight drop to the ground. As another blow struck him, the world began to spin and he felt like he was going to throw up.

  He dropped to the ground.

  And saw Frankie sprawled in the grass nearby, his head painted with blood, his eyes closed, and before Toby blacked out, he tasted blood in his mouth, heard the sound of voices, somebody laughing (laughing?)—a horrible high-pitched cackling—and felt his body being pummeled.

  And then...

  In the dream he was half-dead. Blood was spewing from his head like a geyser. One arm was numb and dangling from his shoulder like a stuffed toy that had had one of its arms almost pulled off...

  He was staggering through darkness, pain was eating away at him like termites through wood, and he wanted desperately to sleep, just to lie down and sleep...

  He heard screaming—Frankie, Frankie is that you?—and then he saw trees, but they were dark, like shadows, and then somebody lumbering over to him...

  A voice, soft and kind, “You’ll be all right.”

  Darkness.

  A small light, like a candle’s.

  A room, a strange room filled with color and drawings and bottles.

  And then the same soft voice:

  “Papa Legba, ouvri barriè pour moin, agoè!

  “Papa Legba, Attibon Legba, ouvri barriè pour moin passé!”

  The voice fades, the light fades.

  The voice comes back:

  “Passé Vrai, loa moin passé m’ a remerci loa moin, Abobo.”

  Then a prayer, and he thinks, I know this, it’s from the Bible.

  He sinks again into silent darkness, pain eating him up; the sound of a rattle, like a baby’s rattle, brings him back, and the candlelight reveals a strange figure dancing, shaking the rattle, and then:

  “Zo wan-wé sobadi sobo kalisso.”

  More darkness, a voice, distant, says, “Guédé Nimbo, please, I need your help...”

  Then a figure, dark as the night, hovering above him, his old black hat flickering in the candle flame, a smell like whiskey, but different, floats over him, and thick cigarette smoke, and then another voice, more nasally than the last, but jovial, says, “I’m here to help you, ti moun...”

  A warm sensation, a tingly sensation, and then...

  More voices, more pain, more screaming, some crying, flashes of too-bright light...

  And then darkness...

  ONE

  MONTH

  LATER

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A knocking at his door woke Toby. Groaning, he sat up, glanced at his clock radio and saw it was almost eleven o’clock.

  “Jesus,” he muttered.

  Another knock. “Toby?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m up.”

  The door edged open and his mom poked her head in. “Sorry to wake you, but Gloria’s here.”

  “Okay,” Toby said. “I’ll be down in a moment.” He remained sitting up in bed, head still foggy.

  His mom entered his room, walked over to the window and flung open the curtains.

  “Can you shut them?” Toby groaned, squinting his eyes against the sudden brightness.

  “Sunshine is good for you. It’s a beautiful day outside. You and Gloria should go out, enjoy the sun.”

  “Playtime for the invalid, huh?”

  His mom shook her head. “You’re not an invalid, Toby. And I don’t think Gloria wants to spend another beautiful Sunday listening to you feeling sorry for yourself.”

  “Whatever,” Toby mumbled. He flung off the sweat-stained sheet and planted his feet on the ground.

  Toby stood and pain shot through his right side. He gritted his teeth. Mornings were always the worst. His body was stiff, like a rusty machine. He longed for the day when he could walk around without feeling like his whole body was on fire.

  “I’ll go and fix you some breakfast,” his mom said. “What would you like?”

  “To be free from this pain,” Toby sneered.

  And to have Frankie back, he thought.

  “Come on what do
you feel like? Oatmeal? Granola? Fruit? Pancakes?”

  “Just a cup of coffee,” he said.

  “Are you sure? You need your strength.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  His mom sighed. “Coffee it is.” She left his bedroom.

  Toby slipped on the same shorts and T-shirt he had worn yesterday and then hobbled over to the window. He looked out. It was a typically beautiful summer day in Belford: still, clear and hot. The sort of days he and Frankie loved the most.

  The kind that Frankie would never see again.

  Toby began crying. It hurt his body to do so, but he couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

  He cried almost every day. The pain—the deep, invisible kind—was still strong and would take a long time to heal, longer than the bruises on his ribs, longer than his broken nose and fingers had.

  When the crying eased, he wiped the tears away and looked down to see Mr. Joseph out in his front yard, doing some much-needed gardening.

  Mr. Joseph.

  “Are you decent?”

  Gloria’s sweet voice.

  “Yeah,” Toby answered, still holding his gaze at the window.

  “Being a Peeping Tom is a crime, you know.” Gloria came and stood beside Toby. “Oh,” she said, softly. “Here’s your coffee.”

  “Thanks,” Toby said, turning away from the window and taking the mug from Gloria. He took a sip. It was good and strong.

  Gloria was wearing a short denim skirt and white shirt.

  Toby’s groin stirred.

  “So how are you this morning?”

  “The usual. Had a rough night.”

  “You know, that’s something we could do today. If you felt up to it.”

  “What’s that?” Toby said.

  “You could go over and say thanks.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” Toby said, knowing full well the answer.

  “I know he’s... a bit weird and all, but you do owe it to him to at least say thanks. He did save your life, Toby.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” he said.

  As if he needed reminding of that fact. He thought about it every moment he wasn’t thinking about Frankie.

  “Well why don’t you...?”