by Emmy Grace
I drop to my knees, cradling my hurt stomach with one hand and my aching back with the other. I glance around feverishly, wondering why in the world I didn’t have the foresight to bring my night vision goggles. I might not be skydiving, but they could really be handy right about now. I could see an acrobatic, fire-eating devil woman coming at me.
And I could use the help.
Since I’m hardly breathing, my hearing has room to expand. I hear the snap of a twig to my left. Instinctively, I kick out with one foot, but it touches nothing except air.
I draw it back and listen again.
I don’t hear breathing or movement of any kind. Man, this woman is quiet. She’s such a tawdry piece of work; I never would’ve expected this from her.
Then I remember Shari’s words. She trained to be a flyer. For all I know, she might be swinging around in the trees.
Good Lord, how am I supposed to defend myself against that? It's like fighting an invisible monkey.
“Allanda, I know you’re out here. You might as well give up.”
Something smacks the side of my head and a mini Fourth of July spray of fireworks rains down behind my eyes.
That’s gonna leave a mark.
I’m going to need to have a talk with Beebee. She may need to freshen up my blessing. This is not looking good for me. At this rate, in three more minutes, I’ll be a bunch of loose skin holding mushy organs and broken bones together like a thirty-year-old Louis Vuitton.
Without the great stitching.
I groan, pressing my hand to the side of my head. It’s not wet, so at least I’m not bleeding. I don’t know how I’m not. That hurt like a mother.
“It was you, wasn’t it, Allanda? You killed Rodney, the clown. I just can’t figure out why.”
From somewhere that sounds a million miles away, I hear a feminine voice. “He wasn’t going to let me go. All I wanted was Jonah and our baby, but Rodney wouldn’t hear of it. Especially if the baby is his.”
“Why kill him? Why not just leave with Jonah?”
“Jonah’s life is the circus. The only chance I have with him is for us to raise this baby here. Without Rodney.”
“You know you’ll never get away with this.”
“If you’re not around to tell anyone, what makes you think I won’t?”
I hear the shuffle of movement, ever so slight, to my right at like two o’clock. She’s coming for me again!
My pulse trips up into panic mode, and I do what any God-fearing woman in my position would do.
I act like I’m on fire and I charge her.
I take off in the direction I think Allanda might be, and I flail like a madwoman. I circle my arms like helicopters and kick my legs periodically like a German soldier on the march. I even shake my head back and forth. Not really sure what that’s accomplishing, but I just go with it. Maybe my impersonation of a rabid dog will disorient her.
I’m squalling like a banshee, ready to tear a hole in whatever gets in my way, when I hear a loud pop! followed by bright orange daylight.
Or at least that’s what it looks like.
A magnesium flare goes off overhead, just in time for me to see the tiny body swing down from a tree limb about ten feet in front of me. My last thought is that she’s aiming at my chest.
And then...darkness.
20
When I come to, I’m lying on something soft and Liam is hovering over me. I smile. He has such a nice face when he isn’t scowling.
I reach up to touch it and, like magic, the scowl appears.
My tone is sweet and a little wobbly when I say, “You’re so mean.”
I’m not sure why that came out sounding like a compliment. I blame internal injuries, of which I’m sure I have several.
“You have to stop doing that,” Liam says, placing his hand over mine where it’s still cupping his cheek.
“Stop calling you ‘mean’? But you look mean right now.”
“I look worried. And that’s not what I meant. You have to stop going off by yourself like that. One of these days, I might not be around to help you.”
I smile at that, too. “You’re like my favorite fungus. I try and try and try, but I don’t think there’s any getting rid of you.”
He doesn’t address this. “Are you hurting?”
His question causes me to think, which wakes me up a little more. It takes me about fourteen seconds to understand that complete wakefulness might not be such a good thing.
“Do I hurt? Oh my God,” I moan. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Where is it worst?”
He starts gently touching my temples, my clavicles, my shoulders, my arms, my ribs, my breastbone, my hipbones.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, that’s worst.”
“Where?”
“Everything you touched.”
“You can’t narrow it down a little more than that?”
“Yes. Air. The air hurts my entire body.”
Through my squinted eyes, I see one side of Liam’s mouth quirk. “I can't make the air go away.”
“This is what you smile at? Really?”
“I’m not smiling.”
“You are. I can tell.”
“I’m not smiling. I’m just...”
“You’re just what?”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I’m not. My insides are goo. My bones are gravel.”
“You’re awake and joking. That's a good sign.”
I gasp. “Allanda! She killed Rodney. It was Allanda all along.”
He nods. “It was. We got her.”
“Thank God. I followed her into the woods. She confessed and everything. I wish I’d recorded it. Why can’t I ever test a Go-Pro?”
Note to self: Look into Go-Pro camera. Or Mission: Impossible glasses with tiny recorder. Either will do.
“She must’ve gotten the evidence when she went to lie down in Rodney’s tent, and then tried to go to the woods to hide it. Or bury it or destroy it or something.”
“Did you find it?”
Again, he nods. “She must’ve dropped it when she was fighting with you. We found the transmitter not far from where you were passed out. It’s smashed, but I’m sure one of the bigger pieces will be covered with her fingerprints. Clive is on his way now.”
“How did you stop Allanda?”
“I clotheslined her.”
“You clotheslined her?”
“She jumped back up in the tree after she kicked you. When I came through to get you, she tried the same thing with me, but I sidestepped and caught her across the throat with my arm.”
“Man, I bet that flattened her.” I don’t even try to hide the satisfaction in my voice. “Scrappy little ho.”
Another note to self: You really need to work on your insults.
“She’s tied up in the back of the truck right now. George and Pike are watching her.”
“George and Pike? You don’t think they’d...”
“Nah. I don’t think any of them like our involvement, but they don’t take kindly to her killing one of their own either. I think they’ll watch her.”
“I’m surprised you take that risk and leave her.”
“I was more worried about you than her. She can’t get far.”
“How’s Jonah taking it?”
“He’s upset, of course.”
“I wonder if he had any idea.”
“Doesn’t seem to have.”
“Life under the big top,” I mutter, shaking my head. The instant I do, the world swims and my belly sloshes with nausea.
I squeeze my eyes shut and stop moving.
“Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever had a concussion?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you get sick?”
“Sometimes, why?”
That’s all the warning the guy gets before I surge onto my side and puke all over his arm. Liam doesn’t say
a single word. Doesn’t move either.
In fact, I’m not sure he’s even breathing.
I roll slowly to face the sky again, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry about your arm.”
21
“So, it took a trip to the hospital to get the makeup off, huh?” It’s Regina’s first question.
I rub a hand over my clean, Day of the Dead makeup-free cheek and smile. “They probably scrubbed it with acid. Or some industrial strength cleanser that they use to disinfect medical equipment or something. It probably took off seven layers of skin.”
“At least it worked.”
I pause with my hand on the door handle to Regina’s car. “I think it’s safe to say that I won’t be using that makeup primer anymore. Ever. Ever.”
“I figured as much,” she says over the roof before she ducks inside.
“And don’t even get me started on that disgusting skin suit.”
“Sweat suit,” she corrects. “Didn’t it go well?”
“They had to give me extra fluids, Regina. It almost sucked the life out of me.”
“Strange. I don’t recall any mention of suction.”
I narrow my eyes on her. “Don’t make me come over there,” I warn in a mock threatening tone.
I drop onto the passenger seat and relax my head onto the headrest, inhaling before I turn to look at Regina. “Thanks for coming to get me, best friend in the world.”
“I couldn’t very well leave you here. They were offering a reward to anyone who would take you off their hands. I was afraid they’d resort to more drastic measures if I didn’t pick you up soon.”
“You’re so funny,” I retort wryly. “I wasn’t that bad.”
Regina slides me a look of disdain. “You argued with the doctor for twenty minutes over giving you two little bitty stitches, you ordered three dinner trays from the kitchen, and you got two nurse’s aides into trouble for watching a movie with you on your phone.”
“They said they could take a break. It was the best part of the movie. I mean, that ending is epic.”
“Not everyone agrees that The Breakfast Club is a classic and worth getting in trouble over, Lucky.”
“Who? Who doesn’t agree with that? Point them out. I want names. Possibly even addresses. It’s not natural and I must expose them for the alien body snatchers that they are.”
I dissolve into a fit of giggling. I’m feeling light and weird and awesome today.
Despite being black and blue and sore as the devil.
“Good Lord, what kind of medicine did they give you?”
I grin. “Tylenol. That’s the only thing they’ll give someone with a head injury.”
“So, this...” She indicates me with her hand, but I know she means my mood and overall disposition. “That’s just you?”
“Au naturale, baby.”
“Why are you so happy?”
“When am I not happy?”
“Well, never, but you’re not always this happy. What gives?”
I give her a small shrug. “I don’t know. Can’t a girl just be happy?”
“After what you’ve been through? I think it seems pretty psychotic, but let’s just go with it.”
I smile in appreciation. I don’t want to get into the whole Liam thing with Regina. I need to think about it before she intrudes with all her excitement and her “marry him and have all his babies” pleas.
“That’s always best with me. You know that.”
“Do I ever!” She shakes her head. “I’m glad that head injury didn’t turn out to be anything serious, though. And the cut where you fell on that stick in the woods, I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”
“I’m fine. I told them a thousand times. I don’t know why no one believes me.”
“They don’t know you like I do. They don’t know you’re as crazy as you are lucky.”
“Lucky strikes again!” I cry, raising my arms. The action makes every single muscle in my upper body scream and I yowl in pain.
I freeze with my hands up like someone’s poking a gun into my tender ribs.
Regina eyes me with skepticism. “Maybe we should have Beebee freshen up your blessing when she comes for Thanksgiving. Living here is turning out to be a dangerous choice.”
“That might not be such a bad idea,” I muse with her. I’d actually considered the same thing.
About the blessing, not the dangerous choice of Salty Springs.
Well, I guess that one’s kind of a no-brainer, too.
When Regina pulls up in front of my little carriage house, I go to open the car door, but she stops me. “Stay put. I’m coming around.”
“Oh, Heavens to Betsy, I’m not an invalid.”
She ignores me and rushes around to the passenger side. “You gotta quit saying stuff like that. You sound like you’re a hundred and two.”
“Don’t say that,” I whisper. “Miss Haddy is a hundred and two. She might take that as an insult and have you killed.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Regina rolls her eyes as she reaches in to help me out. “What does that even mean anyway? Heavens to Betsy.”
“I don’t know. I just remember my mom saying it.”
We start slowly toward the front door. “Didn’t you name your toilet Betsy?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.” I ponder this. “I guess you’re right. I really shouldn’t say that any more. It makes it sound like my toilet is heaven. Although, if there is a need for any sort of bodily elimination in heaven, I think my Betsy is a good choice. What do you think?”
Regina stops on the front porch to stare at me. “I think we have already spent way too long talking about toilets. I will never get those minutes back. Never.”
“Hey, God isn’t offended. He made them, for Pete’s sake.”
“Now you’re picking on Pete. Why can’t you just cuss like a normal person?”
“Beebee would wash my mouth out with soap and you know it.”
“From Gator Cove, Louisiana? She can’t hear you, Lucky.”
I point my finger at Regina. “Hey, you know as well as I do that Beebee knows things. She’s not one to be underestimated. Remember the Chris Melton incident in the eighth grade?”
We both nod at the shared memory. Regina and I had invited two boys over to play spin the bottle while Beebee and Momma Leona were at a ladies’ function at the church. Unfortunately, they came roaring back into the driveway just as Chris Melton was giving me the world’s most perfect eighth grade boy kiss. I was dazed. So was Chris. Beebee stomped up the stairs, yanked Chris up by the collar of his shirt, and dragged him out the door.
He never spoke to me after that.
I asked Beebee how she knew we had boys over, and she just gave me the eye—only those who know Beebee know what “the eye” looks and feels like—and she tapped her temple.
“I see things.”
I was terrified.
And mystified.
And I believed her.
Still do.
That’s the only explanation she ever would give me. And that wasn’t the only time something similar to that happened, but it’s the one that stands out the clearest, probably because the boy who came to be Regina’s kissing partner jumped out my bedroom window and broke his ankle.
In retrospect, I guess we should call it the Davey Smith Incident since he’s the one who got hurt. I’m giving Chris Melton far too much credit.
Regina reaches for the knob on my front door. I stop her. “Wait, don’t you need the key?”
She smiles up at me as she twists the knob and pushes the door open. I don’t have time to ask what that devious smile means. The moment I’m spotted, I’m greeted with a hearty, “Surprise!”
My living room is full of people, every face smiling and welcoming.
Miss Haddy and Mrs. Stephanopoulos are at the front of the pack. Suzie Lynn and Malcolm are just behind them. The two Anns from the diner
are to their left. I have no clue who’s feeding the good people of Salty Springs at the moment since they’re here, but I can’t care about that right now.
On the other side is One-Legged Jack, who I haven’t seen since my fateful public performance with Cruz DiSpirito. Beside him are Chief Sheriff Clive Sally and Petey, the Ginger Creep. He’s the only one who doesn’t look happy to be here.
Big surprise there.
Even Liam, who is standing at the very back of the crowd, probably because he’s so tall he can see over everyone else’s head, looks shockingly jolly.
And standing slightly off to one side, in a cluster all their own (much like their circus world is a microcosm of the larger world), are Jonah, Pike, and George. And tucked against Jonah’s side, our Felonious.
They smile when I meet their eyes, and my heart melts with relief. I’d wondered if they’d be destroyed after what happened with Allanda and us outsiders, but that doesn’t appear to be the case.
My answering grin stretches from ear to ear. “And it’s not even my birthday.”
“This is more a ‘we’re surprised you’re alive’ kind of party, sugar pie,” Miss Haddy explains sweetly.
“Oh. Well, in that case, yay me!”
Mrs. S. steps forward to grunt up at me, patting my arm. “I don’t know how you keep surviving this stuff, girl, but I hope your luck doesn’t run out while you’re living around here.”
“Thanks, Mrs. S.”
Malcolm is next. “Glad you’re okay, lass.” He winks one foggy eye and follows Miss Haddy to where someone has arranged a small spread of food on my kitchen counter. Each of them grabs a paper plate and starts filling it.
Suzie Lynn appears in Malcolm’s wake. “You didn’t tell me you were super woman, Lucky.” She gives me a careful hug. “I love you, but please don’t ever ask me to help out with your crime fighting. I’m far too breakable.”
She gives me a little nudge with her elbow as makes her way past me toward the food, too. As is the case with most people in the South, Salty Springs folk sure do like to eat.
The Anns file up to me next. When the stop, they stand side-by-side, arms touching. If they were dressed in white frocks and lace socks, standing at the end of a hallway of blood, I’d swear they were the two girls from The Shining, all grown up.
