by Nik Davies
Chapter 4
Law 17
Never Look Into the Light
Akeem roamed the city for hours, knowing he couldn’t return home and having no place else to go. He told himself he wouldn’t go back to Quinn’s house, but by midnight he was exhausted and his legs were too stiff to walk any farther. He hoped they would be asleep when he snuck in. He hated for Aly to see him this way; she always cried when he was hurt.
When he slipped into the basement, he found the television and lights on. Quinn was hunched over the golden cube, turning it this way and that in stern concentration when he appeared next to her.
“You’re back,” she said without taking her eyes off the cube. Aly smiled up at him from the floor, where she was meticulously working in her favorite coloring book. She had bandages wrapped around half her head and a patch covering her right eye.
“What the hell happened!” he shouted furiously.
“Ooooh, you said another bad word, Keemi,” Aly said, wagging her finger at him.
“Keep it down.” Quinn hushed them as Akeem rushed over to the little girl and picked her up.
“I got stitches,” Aly said proudly. Akeem stared at Quinn angrily, and she stared back. To his surprise, she was the first to look away.
“She missed again,” Quinn mumbled in response to his questioning eyes.
Akeem was confused. “Who missed?”
“Mami. She missed Papi with that big vase and hit me instead,” Aly said. “It was an accident, Keemi, she didn’t mean it.”
Akeem flopped down on the couch, mentally exhausted and physically beaten. He wrapped his arms around the tiny girl and rocked her back and forth, willing himself not to cry. He held her for a long time. When he finally looked down, he discovered she had fallen asleep in his arms. Anger raged inside him as he touched Aly’s bandaged face.
He flinched when he felt the sting of alcohol on his shins and ungentle hands cleaning off the blood that had dripped down his legs and into his socks. Quinn glanced up at him and for the briefest moment their eyes locked. There was such weariness and sadness in her gaze that it turned his stomach into painful knots. A river of feeling rushed between them and at that moment, he was ready to speak his mind. He was ready to tell her every detail of his miserable life and ask her every detail of hers. He wanted to tell her how strange she made him feel and how much he liked that strangeness. He wanted to beg her to run away with him. Far away from anything that could ever hurt them again. He wanted to help her, he needed to help her.
“Quinn…”
“Night,” she said before turning away. She shut off the TV and the light and left him in awkward silence. Akeem sighed. Who was he kidding? He was a fifteen-year-old black kid whose father died when he was ten and whose mother regrets giving birth to him. He could barely help himself, let alone Quinn and Aly. Besides, she could take care of herself just fine. She didn’t need him; she’s never needed him. Not like he needs her. He’s the one who secretly hopes for a reason to see her. He sneaks into her basement at night to escape a woman who’s nine inches shorter than him. He’s the coward, and she deserves better. She has Aly to take care of; she doesn’t need the burden of taking care of him too. He has to leave. Tomorrow he will go and never come back. He has a grandmother who lives in the south; he’ll head there the moment the sun comes up. With that settled in his mind, he placed Aly in a nest of blankets and pillows on the couch then flopped down on the floor. He stretched out his long legs and prayed for sleep to come, but it never did.
He stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning, hating himself. He was in the middle of recounting the ways that Aly and Quinn would be better off without him when a flicker caught his attention. His eyes widened in astonishment. The cube had opened and a bright slit of light seeped from the crack accompanied by a beautiful noise like the sound of a million heavenly flutes.
“Quinn,” he murmured, but she didn’t stir. “Quinn!” he growled and tossed a pillow at her. She shot to her feet and practically jumped into his arms when she saw the top of the cube slowly opening.
“How…,” she marveled, unable to finish her sentence.
“All by itself.” The melody that drifted from the cube, although distant, sounded so painfully beautiful, he couldn’t help taking a step toward it. The sound called to him, and with each tiny step he took, the cube opened wider, like the maw of a hungry predator.
“Do you hear that?” he asked, mesmerized.
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful,” Akeem whispered as he took another step closer.
“Don’t! Stay away from it,” Quinn hissed, forcing her eyes away from the pulsing light. She gripped his arm, and her touch caught his attention. He tore his eyes from the cube and looked back at her, amused.
“It’s only a cube, Quinn, what could possibly…” The words fell from his lips when a ghostlike hand ascended from the cube, grabbed his arm, and yanked. He howled in fright and stared down in revulsion at the unearthly, clawlike fingers gripping his arm. The filthy fingernails and sunspotted arm looked just like Crazy Annie’s. Quinn planted her feet and pulled back. Soon Akeem was the rope in a bizarre game of tug of war, and Quinn was losing ground.
“Let go, Quinn,” he begged.
“Never.” She grunted as she heaved and tugged. She planted her feet, but they kept skidding across the floor, causing them to inch maddeningly closer to the cube.
“Quinn...” Akeem moaned. His hand faded and began to disappear as it neared the pulsating cube. His heart quickened painfully in his chest as he looked back and stared fearfully into her eyes. “Let me go!” He squirmed, trying to loosen her grasp.
“No, don’t!” she shrieked, waking Aly from a dead sleep. Her scream ended abruptly as the cube pulsed and heaved, ripping them both off their feet. They flew toward the opening. Aly, her face frozen in a mask of terror, reached her tiny arms out to them as they sailed overhead.
“Aly!” Quinn reached for her sister.
“Don’t leave me!” Aly pleaded. Quinn’s fingers brushed the tips of hers as a blinding light flooded the room. Aly fell to the floor, little arms covering her face. When she looked again, the basement was dark, the golden cube was solid, and she was alone. They left her. They left without her. Her little body was racked with heartbreak as tears streaked down her cheeks. She called for them, begged for them. She searched every inch of the basement until all hope was lost. She sat alone in the dark, staring in disbelief at the evil cube that had taken away the only people that had ever loved her. She was alone now, all alone. Her anguished screech tore through the silent house and for the first time in years, her parents descended the steps to the basement. At the sight of them, she cried harder and didn’t stop crying for a very long time.
