Alchemist Academy: Book 1 (29 page)

Her smile faded and she plucked at the edge of a paper bag of sugar. “When I saw her again, I was fifteen. She ended up at the hospital, dying from cirrhosis of the liver and a whole host of other jargon they used that I didn’t understand. Doctors wouldn’t do much and I didn’t have the strength to fight then. To them she was just some no-insurance-druggie, disposable. . . .”

She blinked and I saw the tears building in her eyes. If it was most people, I would have put an arm around her, but this was Jackie. She’d slug me for sure.

“When I walked into her hospital room, she didn’t recognize me. Hell, I barely recognized her, looking all thin and pale. You know what she wanted me to do once I convinced her I was her daughter?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I knew Jackie needed to unload. “What?”

“She told me where to get her some drugs. She wrote the directions down on the front of a magazine, right over the face of Ryan Gosling. I told her I didn’t have any money and she told me I should use what she gave me and pointed to my body.”

I covered my mouth and really hoped she was building to a pun of some sort, but the tears in her eyes told me she wasn’t. This really happened and it tore at my soul to think of Jackie going through it, alone. The risk would be worth it. I put my arm over her shoulder and nudged closer to her.

She leaned against my chest and continued, “When I refused, she went into a rage. Her IV got pulled out and blood dripped from her arm. She screamed at me and I screamed back out of fear. The nurses ran in and strapped her to the bed. One of them offered to help me, but I just ran. I didn’t want to see my mom like that anymore. I wished she had died before I ever saw her, it soiled my childhood memories and. . . .” Jackie stopped and sniffled.

She turned her head up to look at me. “Just don’t think your kid memories are an accurate portrayal of your parents. They aren’t. Your mom could be someone entirely different than who you think she is. She willingly left you, Allie, just as my mom did. A real mom doesn’t do that.”

I squeezed her much harder. Her words stung. I was putting my mom on a pedestal because there had to be a reasonable explanation for why she left me, something dire and noble. My mom rescuing me in the academy proved she cared enough to get me out of there. But she hadn’t left just me, she’d left my dad as well. Thinking of my dad, my chin quivered. He’d be home soon. He promised.

“Don’t start crying on me,” Jackie said and pushed off my chest. She composed herself and turned to Mark. “What’s your deal, Mark?”

His eyes looked misty as well. I am sure he was as disturbed by Jackie’s story as I was. He looked at the floor of the truck. “I guess I’m a card holding member of the dead parent society.”

“So your mom is the Alchy?” Jackie asked.

“I don’t know if my dad had the gift or not. My mom won’t talk about him. She has it, but is weak.”

“She’s a Malki, like you?”

“Yeah, just like me.” Mark looked away.

A police siren blared from behind the truck. I jolted up and looked to Mark and Jackie.

“We better hide,” Mark said. “It’s illegal to ride in the back of one of these.”

“Great,” I said.

We crowded behind two pallets at the back of the truck. From the floor, I saw under the wooden pallet and to the end of the truck. The siren continued to blare and I felt the momentum of the truck shifting forward as we slowed. We jerked around as it stopped.

Cars could be heard whizzing by—we must be next to the freeway. I thought I heard footsteps in gravel by the side of the truck.

“What’s the problem, officer?” Jerry asked.

I closed my eyes and listened to the words.

“You drove around our checkpoint back there. Why?”

“I have a delivery to my East LA store. I was just trying to make good time.”

“Step out of the truck and open the back up,” the officer instructed.

“Okay, no problem.”

I pulled my feet in tighter and watched the back of the truck. The door lifted open, and the outside light flooded in.

Jerry squinted, scanning the contents of the truck. “Here you go, just some flour and baking supplies. You know we give the men in blue fifty percent off all purchases in our stores. It’s not something we advertise—”

The officer stepped forward and put his hand in Jerry’s face. If we stayed still, I didn’t think he would see us. The officer wore black gloves and I spotted his motorcycle behind the truck, parked on the dirt shoulder of the road, lights still flashing.

His hand touched the metal edge of the truck and clunked. I strained to see the yellow stone in his hand. He tapped it on the metal and rolled it under his palm. I froze as much as any freeze stone would make me and felt the quick breaths coming from Jackie on my arm. I didn’t dare move.