by David Berens
She hung up and took a deep breath. She tried desperately to stand, but it was a no-go. Her legs refused to cooperate. Cab, she thought, I’ll call a cab. Scrolling through her contact list, she found a number and dialed. The man that answered had a thick accent and she could barely understand him, but the gist of the conversation was that his only cab was out on a long run to the airport. He would send it right away when the fare was over.
Meira felt the pain in her legs start creeping up into her thighs. It was getting worse. She opened the Uber application and found that there were exactly zero drivers near her.
“Dammit,” she muttered as she stretched her legs out to try to ease the cramping.
There were a few cars passing by, but none seemed to see her waving frantically. The nice breeze that had been helping her run had stalled leaving her to roast in the afternoon heat. Her watch rang again. She tapped it.
“Riley, I swear, I’m going to kill you when—.”
“Ma’am, I’m not sure who Riley is, but I think forgiveness is the better part of valor.”
“What?” Meira blurted out as she realized she wasn’t talking to her daughter.
“Well, ma’am, this is Troy Bodean calling again. I was just thinking I’d leave you a message. Didn’t expect you to pick up and yell at…whoever Riley is.”
“She’s my daughter. Look, I’m sorry, Troy. I think you must be calling about business, but I’m just going to have to call you back. I’m sitting in the hot sun, my legs are cramping so hard I can’t walk, my daughter won’t answer the phone, and apparently there’s not a damn cab to be had in Nags Head.”
“Dang. That sounds like a tough spot alright.” The man on the other end of the conversation went silent for a second. “Where ‘bouts are you in Nags Head?”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable answering that question right now, Mr.—.”
“Call me Troy, please.”
“Okay, Troy.” There was something in his voice she couldn’t pin down, something safe, something trustworthy. She figured she was probably making a huge mistake but at this point she didn’t have many options. “Where are you right now?”
“Can’t say exactly, but I reckon I’m fifty yards or so off Jennette’s Pier.”
She arched an eyebrow and looked around suspiciously. “If that was the case, I think you’d be staring me in the face.”
“Oh, I’m not inland, ma’am. I’m on a boat.”
“I see.”
She shifted around so she could see the ocean, but there was no sign of a boat in her line of sight.
Before she could say anything else, Troy said, “you just hang tight. I’ll be there in a jiffy. We’ll get you back on your feet before you know it.”
The call disconnected and Meira took a deep breath. She hoped her instincts were right about this Troy character being a decent person. In her line of work, she made enemies on an almost daily basis. Either a cheating spouse or a runaway who didn’t want to be found, they almost all had something to hide. Private investigators rarely had cases for clients who were happy with their situation. She tried Riley one more time and predictably, got no answer.
“Grounded,” she mumbled through dry lips. “For life.”
Riley Carr sat motionless on the floor at the foot of her bed. Her eyes were covered with an Oculus Rift virtual reality headset. It had been expensive, but it was well worth it. She could escape the world of the mean girls from her school and become the princess she always dreamed of becoming. Over her ears, she complimented her amazing visual experience with a cheap set of Bose earphones she’d gotten from Craigslist. She planned to update these eventually, but the headset had drained her allowance for the time being.
Inside the headset, she was transported to another world. A world where the boys at school who laughed at her because of the lies the mean girls told them meant absolutely nothing. A world where she was somebody important. A world where she could be beautiful.
Her mother said she was beautiful in the real world, but Riley knew that was just the crap mothers were supposed to say. She enjoyed the character she had created for herself because she was not only gorgeous with long shimmering blond hair, but she was an elf skilled with a knife. Her fighting skills in the game had gone through the roof when she had found the mystical artifact and it had bonded with her. Riley enjoyed the fame that had come with owning the artifact and learning to wield its magical knife. She had given herself the quest of finding weaker players inside the game and defending them, killing any who would bully them…be they real, or computer-generated.
It was pretty exciting, but the real thrill had come when she’d heard of the Orc who was terrorizing Bladehammer. He was high-level…highest she had ever seen. But in her experience, the higher they were, the farther they fell. And today, she was hunting him. At one point, she thought she might’ve heard the phone ring, but it couldn’t have been anyone important, her mom was out running and she was always gone forever. That and the fact that she’d discovered where the Orc was today and she’d tracked him into the small village of Haw Ridge.
The details were gruesome, but in the end, she was left holding the Orc’s head, having bested him at hand-to-hand combat. Her magical blade was impossible to beat. Naturally, he re-spawned on the spot, but the rules of the game were that he couldn’t attack her for twenty-four hours. It was different this time, though. He came back as his avatar, or his computer representation of what he supposedly looked like in real life. He was cute and looked to be about her age.
He said he came back to congratulate her on her victory and invited her to the local tavern in the game to have an ale or two. Riley could feel the excitement of having a cute boy pay attention to her and, for all practical purposes, ask her on a date. Even inside a virtual world, she was thrilled. As they sat and drank the virtual ale, she decided she like him…a lot.
“So,” he started as he drained his third cup. “Is this what you really look like?”
Riley felt herself stiffen. It was indeed nothing at all like what she looked like in real life. She’d taken on the persona of an elf-princess in the game. In the real world of her mom’s apartment, she was a skinny thirteen-year-old girl with stringy, blond hair, pale blue eyes, and a very mild case of acne. She was on medicine for it and it had gotten better over the past year. But her confidence still took a hit with every bump that popped up.
“No,” she said flatly.
“Well, are you going to show me what you look like…outside?”
“No.”
“Aw, c’mon,” he pleaded. “I’ll bet you’re really pretty.”
She thought about it for a minute. With a click of a button, she put up the avatar image that somewhat resembled her real face…only without the acne.
“Wow,” he said. “Even better than I thought.”
“Really?”
“You’re really cute. How old are you?”
Riley sighed again. This was where she became a little girl, instead of a warrior princess, in most gamer’s eyes. She thought for half a second about lying, what could it hurt? But then, she decided she liked this guy. Here goes nothing, she thought.
“Thirteen,” she said. Then quickly added, “but I turn fourteen in six days.”
“Nice.” he said. “I’m sixteen. Happy early birthday.”
“Thanks.” She laughed as she said it.
“So…,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Where are you from?”
“Nags Head,” she said and then wondered if she’d said too much, stranger danger and all that jazz.
“No shit?” He jumped up from the table they were sitting at in the game. “Me too!”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I don’t recognize your face.”
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.
Riley felt her voice shake and her cheeks redden. This was it, he was asking her on a date in
real life. Her mind raced. What do I do now? Go out with a stranger? He seems pretty nice. And heck, he’s from Nags Head, so I’d be close by.
“Nothing,” she replied flatly.
“You wanna meet me over at Leviathan? It’s a sweet gaming—.”
“Yeah, I know what it is. Let me check with my mom. Hang on.”
Riley slipped the visor off her head and picked up her cell. She had several missed calls from her mom. Crap, that wasn’t good. She listened to the voicemail. Grounded for life.
She started to dial her mom, but made the first bad decision she would make today. She put her visor back on. He was still there waiting for her.
“Okay, I’ll meet you there. But I have to be back by dinner time.”
“Sweet!”
She leaned closer and pecked him on the cheek.
“You’d better be a nicer boy than you are as an Orc.”
He laughed out loud and said, “I am. Scout’s honor.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in ten.”
“Hey, wait,” he said as she started to sign off. “What’s your name?”
“Riley, and yours?”
“Barry.”
“Nice to meet you, Barry.”
“You too, Riley. See you in ten.”
“Cool.”
She slid the goggles off and ran into the bathroom. She grabbed some of her mom’s makeup and set to work trying to cover the few bumps she had on her chin. If she was going to meet this guy, she was going to put her best face forward. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection. This day was going to be amazing.
Barry slid his headset from his eyes. Looking around the trailer, he always felt a little sad. Bladehammer was a better world in so many ways, but at least he had found some excitement with Kim and Dana. And now he had a new fish on the hook, Riley. He’d gone forever without any action, but it looked like his luck might be changing.
That’s when he remembered he’d lost his sweet new Dadao sword after the last two girls lost their heads. Shit, he thought as he scrounged around his mom’s trailer, no time to worry about getting a new one now. Maybe I can keep her for a while, until I can order one.
“Now, that’s a plan,” he said out loud.
He kicked aside an empty pizza box and found what he was looking for. He sniffed the black Metallica T-shirt to see if it was clean. It didn’t reek of fish. He took that as a good omen. He grabbed his mom’s keys from the hook by the door and jogged out to the beat up, fire-engine red, Chevrolet Chevette. It was all she’d left him, but it ran…most of the time. In five minutes, he was on his way to Leviathan.
6
Thai One On
Troy eased the white pickup truck he’d borrowed from his closest inland neighbor around the corner and saw the woman still sitting on the sidewalk. She had a blonde pony-tail hanging down almost to her shoulders dripping with sweat, tan skin with red shoulders from too much sun, black running shorts and a black sports bra. He knew immediately this was a case of dehydration. He pulled over next to her, rolled down his window, and leaned out.
“Meira?”
“That’s me. Troy Bodean, I presume?”
“The one and only. Hop on in and I’ll get you to a cool spot to rehydrate.”
She pushed up on her knees and then slumped back to the ground.
“Yeah. The only problem with that…is that I can’t stand up.”
“Oh, dang, that’s right. Forgive me. Hold on a sec.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He put the truck into park and hopped out. He ran around to her.
“You mind if I pick you up?”
“Sure, I, um—.”
Before she could get the rest out, he’d tucked his arm under her legs and behind her back and picked her up. From the look of shock on her face, he could tell she was surprised he’d been able to lift her so easily. The heavy lifting at the fish company had been doin’ him some good. In fact, he thought he might be in the best shape of his post-Afghanistan life.
He lifted her into the passenger’s seat and she winced.
“Oops, sorry. Is it cramps?”
“Yeah,” she groaned.
“In the calves?”
“And the quads. Just before you got here, I started feeling it in my toes too.”
“You drink enough water?”
“I do.”
“Yeah. Trouble is on a breezy day, you don’t feel yourself losin’ all those fluids. We gotta get some sodium in ya. I know just what to do.”
He jogged around to the driver’s side and jumped up into the truck.
“I suppose I need to get to the hospital,” she said trying to control her breathing.
“Nah,” he shrugged. “You ain’t in shock yet. Coulda been if I hadn’t come and got you. We’ll have you back to normal in a jiffy.”
He eased into traffic and drove a couple of blocks to Cahoons Market and Cottage. She opened her mouth to say something, but he spoke before she could.
“You just hang tight. I’ll be right back.”
He left the car running and ran inside. Afghanistan had taught him a great deal including how to deal with mild sunstroke and dehydration. Nothing out where he was stationed but hot sun and sand and not much to drink that wasn’t infested with bacteria. He walked the aisles scanning the shelves for what he needed. Finally, he found it.
He took it up to the register to pay, but not before grabbing a twelve pack of Coronas.
“Looks like you’ve got an interesting night ahead of you,” the teenaged clerk said as she rung him up.
“Yup.”
He hurried out and found Meira with her head laid back and her eyes closed.
“You doin’ okay?”
“Yeah.” She groaned and opened her eyes slightly. “Beer? How’s that going to help?”
Troy laughed. “That ain’t for you, darlin’. That’s for me later on.”
“Darlin’?”
“Sorry, force of habit.”
She smiled and he saw that she was an attractive young woman. Her eyes were an emerald green color, slightly bloodshot from the dehydration.
“It’s okay. I like the southern gentlemanly charm of it.”
“That’s me, a southern gentleman.”
“Mmhmm. Anyway, what’d you get for me? These cramps are killing me.”
Troy reached into the paper sack with the Cahoons logo sporting a goofy cartoon guy riding a surfboard with two bags of groceries. He pulled a jar of Claussen Pickles out. She was not sure what to make of Troy pulling the pickles out of the container and tossing them out on the ground.
“What the heck?”
“Don’t need the veggies. What you need is in the juice. Hope you like pickles.”
She grimaced and said, “not really.”
“No worries, at this point, you’re body needs it so bad, you’ll think it’s a fine wine.”
“Now that I could go for right about now.”
“Nope. Not until you get those cramps to let loose. After that, we’ll see.”
She took the jar from his hands, pinched her nose, and took a big gulp. Her eyebrows raised and the hint of a smile curved her lips up as she drank.
“Told ya, didn’t I?”
She nodded vigorously as she drained half the juice in one long swig. She gasped as she took the jar from her mouth.
“Oh, my gosh. It’s delicious.”
“Not really. It’s just your body’s way of tellin’ you you’re doin’ right by it.”
“Well, call me impressed, Mr. Bodean.”
“Troy. Nobody calls me Mr. Bodean, ‘cept the IRS.”
She smiled. Her eyes widened suddenly and she grabbed the back of her leg.
“They’re gone. I cannot believe it. The cramps are gone!”
“Yup. It’s magic, ain’t it?”
“There is no chance I would’ve known that pickle juice could cure cramps.”
“I had a pretty smart granddaddy. He taught me almost eve
rything I know. Uncle Sam took care of the rest.”
She took a few more sips of the pickle juice.
“Do I have to drink it all?”
“When it don’t taste good anymore, you’re done.”
“I think I’m there.”
He took the jar from her, screwed on the lid, and tucked it under the driver’s seat. She took a deep breath, undid her ponytail, brushed the sweat from her forehead, and pulled the hair back tight again. Dang, Troy thought, she ain’t good lookin’…she’s beautiful. She apparently read his thoughts and gave him an odd look.
“What is it, Mr. Bode— I mean, Troy?”
“Nothin’ at all. Just thinkin’ you’re a fine lookin’ woman, Mrs. Carr.”
“It’s Miss. I’ve been divorced for more than ten years. He left when my daughter was just a little girl.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, he was a shmuck.”
“Well, that’s good then.”
A moment of silence settled in between them. Troy clicked the radio on and found a classic rock station. He wondered when the hell all his music became classics.
“I guess you’ll need to get home.”
“Yeah.”
“Which way?”
“Turn out of here and go left.”
“Roger that.”
“If you’ll drop me at my place, give me a couple of hours to get cleaned up and check on my soon-to-be-in-big-trouble daughter, we can meet somewhere later and discuss why you called me in the first place. Sound good?”
“Oh, um, yes. That’d be great. I got a short shift at work. I’m off at seven. Pick you up at eight-ish?”
“Perfect. You like Thai food?”
“Not sure if I know that or not.”
“Great. Thai it is. I always like introducing people to how amazing it is.”
He touched the brim of his cowboy hat and turned left.
I think I like where this is goin’.
Troy thought of the Austin Fish Company as a fantastic place to grab fresh seafood for either preparing at home or eating on site. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d plopped himself down on the yellow picnic table underneath the fiberglass great white shark on the roof and chowed down on the finest shrimp this side of Maine. He preferred eating outside to keep the heavy fish smell in the back from affecting the taste of his food. It could be pretty rank back there and he liked the fresh air and ocean breeze anyway. Today however, he didn’t choose to eat anything as Meira had asked him out to dinner later. He wasn’t sure about Thai food, but, eh, why not? Anything was worth a few more minutes with her.
