Amber Eyes (24 page)

“It was not what you think,” I mumbled, glaring at Daniel. My voice was barely audible. I feared he would spill what happened last night, but couldn’t find the words to hint to him he shouldn’t.

“You make me feel sick, dude!” Daniel blurted out.

“Stop it, I said,” Jorge shouted. “And that’s an order, Daniel.”

“You’re not my old man, dude, and this dude’s a perv. He—” Daniel suddenly looked confused, like he’d just caught himself talking too much. Of course, he wouldn’t mind hurting my reputation, but I bet he’d just realized he would hurt Edward’s too if he talked. The look in his face was curious though, like he had just realized something else. “He deserved the punch.” Daniel spat in my face. I had to wipe it off with my open palm.

Jorge grabbed Daniel’s chin in his hand, forcing Daniel to look up at him. I could see Daniel’s chin turning whitish under Jorge’s brutal hold.

“No, I’m not your old man, but I’m your Scout officer. A Scout is obedient. You promised to obey the Scout law because you wanted to, so now you comply. Understood?”

Jorge released Daniel’s chin shoving him backwards. For some seconds, Daniel glared at him with narrowed eyes, closing his fists at both sides of his body. Jorge hold Daniel’s gaze, standing tall and crossing his arms in front of him, towering way over Daniel.

“Understood?” Jorge’s tone was as cold as a gravestone.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Jorge raised an eyebrow.

“… sir.” Daniel spat on the ground again and strode back to the camp, shoving Abe and Brian out of his way.

All of us stood silent. Jorge’s nostrils flared and his chest moved up and down. Daniel no longer blocked the narrow trail, so Jorge reached me, extending his hand. “Are you okay?”

I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. Abe was now beside me and I placed a hand on his shoulder because I felt suddenly dizzy.

“I… think so.”

“This is serious stuff, Justin. Daniel is in big trouble. Edward and I will do something about him,” Jorge said, looking towards the part of the forest where Edward had disappeared in. “Now, you guys go back to the camp and get ready for the parade. I’ll check what the hell is going on with Edward.”

The 4 of July

I couldn’t talk to Edward even though I really wanted to. Every minute I felt worse, but neither he nor Jorge were coming back from the woods. It took ages for them to return. By the time they did, Daniel, Abe, and Brian were dressed in their uniforms—I had no uniform of course, so I put on the cleanest t-shirt I found in my backpack and dusted off my jeans as much as I could. Jorge had an arm over Edward’s shoulder and they both kept whispering, looking
sooo
serious. I could never get close. Edward gave us instructions about the parade and stuff. I thought I could talk to him before we’d reach Abe’s father SUV, but it was a long walk back to the main gate and Edward wanted us to leave the camp at once. We hiked silently in line, and I could never get close to Edward. Jorge kept me under surveillance, making sure I never abandoned my place. It seemed like both of them had agreed I must stay away from Edward.

I wanted to shout, “Edward, we need to talk!” I even considered telling Jorge the whole story while we hiked so he would ask Edward to stop to talk, but I couldn’t. Unlike the first day, we carried no equipment, so hiking was easier. We walked close to each other so I couldn’t talk to Jorge without the others overhearing. Edward tried to fake he was okay, marching at the head of the line, but anybody could see something was wrong with him. He didn’t stride, he almost dragged his feet. Not proud but fallen.

My heart ached like never before. Guilt ate my insides like a cancer. I should have explained everything to him last night. Me and my stupid pride. I had to be angry at him, hadn’t I? How could he have guessed I was a girl when I kept pretending I was Justin? I should have stripped and showed him. Anxiety was about to overtake me—I would start hyperventilating in no time. I needed to talk to Edward and we kept getting closer and closer to the main gate without any opportunity.

Should I request that we stop to rest? Nah, they’d tell me to hold until we reached the SUV.

A sprained ankle? I could fake I’d just sprained my ankle. Nah. They’d realize at once it was all fake. Besides, to be honest, I was not that good at acting.

If Daniel hadn’t been there, I’d have confessed I was a girl in front of all of them, shouting the truth. But Daniel would have mocked me and would have yelled how pathetic and what a loser I was, and I couldn’t stand it. I felt like a coward, which made my stomach grunt and my hands feel numb. If I couldn’t fix things and tell Edward the truth, I’d indeed be a loser. Not only a coward but an ungrateful and selfish girl. Just like Laura.

Abraham Lincoln’s old man was waiting for us when we arrived at the main gate. We climbed in his SUV and he drove us back to Abbeville. Although it was kinda early, tons of people had already gathered in downtown. Exactly at noon, the tallest Boy Scout opened the parade carrying the American flag. After him came several police cars, three fire engines—each one from a different town—and about 20 classic cars honking their horns. Afterwards, about 200 Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts on foot—also from three different towns. Scores of kids riding bicycles and go karts decorated in red, white, and blue closed the parade. There were even moms pushing decorated baby strollers. A band played march after march until the parade reached Lincoln Park where the families gathered to have lunch together. People grilled steaks, hamburgers, and hotdogs. Families shared food, beer, and soda, and kids played all over the place while the grown-ups chatted under giant umbrellas and sat at portable tables.

I didn’t participate in the parade of course. I asked and was informed that the next Greyhound to Montgomery, and eventually to Somerset, would arrive at 3 o’clock, which meant I needed to wait some hours. Not that I liked it. I knew Yago must be somewhere within the crowd looking for me. The faster I flee, the fewer the chances we might bump into each other.

All during the day, I’d scanned the multitudes at the parade and at the picnic area searching for Yago, but I couldn’t locate him—it wasn’t easy with so many people around. Had I been free of all my worries, I’d have enjoyed the parade, but I couldn’t feeling so much guilt inside my heart.

For me, the parade turned into a mob walking down Main Street and the music became random noise. At some point, I couldn’t stand it anymore and had to sit under a tree with both hands on my ears and my face buried between my legs.

After the parade, I tried to have a moment alone with Edward, but it became impossible because he’d vanished. He was nowhere to be seen, and when I finally spotted him, he was talking to a cop whom I presumed had to be his dad. By this time, I was determined to talk to him no matter what. I approached them and was about stop near them to wait for Edward when I recognized the cop he was talking to. He was the man I’d seen in Magnolia Hall the previous evening talking to Laura, or to her ghost or projection, whatever it’d been. Omigod! A sudden cramp in my stomach made me flee in the opposite direction as fast as I could.

I ran through Lincoln Park like a madman—like a mad girl—until I crashed into Abe.

“Justin,” Abe said, “where you going? Wanna have lunch with us?”

Yes, lunch, it was the best idea. I was starving. Besides, I needed to blend with the crowd and turn invisible. Abe’s parents were delighted that I joined them to have lunch. The family was warm and nice—his dad, mom, grandma and li’l sister. Sticking with them made me feel safer until it’d be time to board the Greyhound—Yago wouldn’t dare approach me if he saw I was sheltered by a local family. Or so I hoped.

During lunch, the conversation focused on our camping and the many things we’d been doing, and the days to come—Mr. Thomas would drive the group back to Magnolia Hall after the fireworks and the camp would still go on for two more days.

“Ma,” Abe’s mother asked Abe’s grandma—Abe’s mother was a woman dressed in so many polka dots, she made me feel dizzy. “Did Amanda Zimmerman finally get her hands on Magnolia Hall? I heard she was interested in buying the estate.”

Abe’s grandma seemed to be chewing all time, even if her toothless mouth was empty. “She did. Those AMI guys gave away the property for nothing.”

I was sitting beside Abe at a plastic table eating hamburgers. My hand froze in the air leaving the hamburger two inches away from my open mouth. The conversation had just become interesting.

Abe’s father was by the grille and he wore an apron that read:
Don’t mess with the chef.
He said, “I heard the AMI folks requested the estate to be declared a national monument so they could sell it to the Smithsonian, but they were never successful.”

“That’s gossip, Mathew,” Abe’s grandmother said. “AMI wanted nothing to do with the property after the riot. The sooner they sell it, the better. Same as with the plant. No need to go through the process of declaring it a monument.”

Abe’s father delivered several steaks on a plate to the table. “Well, if they wanted to sell the plant, they haven’t been what I’d call lucky. It’s still there, falling apart.”

Abe’s grandmother grabbed the serving dish, placed it in front of her, and began to eat. I wondered how she could chew the steaks without a single tooth and whether she would devour all of them—there was enough food for three people. She talked with her mouth full. “Amanda only purchased Magnolia Hall five months ago. If they waited 10 years to sell the state, I believe they’ll wait another 10 to sell the ruins of the plant. Of course, this is not something Amanda likes to publicize. She paid like half a million when the property is worth a coupla millions, a real bargain. She wants to restore the house, but since she’s never in town, I dunno how she’d supervise the restoration.”

“Where’s she now, ma?” It was Abe’s mother again. With a gesture, she indicated to her husband that he needed to put more steaks on the grill.

“Cancun. She’ll be back in early August but will return to Brazil almost immediately.”

“Cancun is not in Brazil,” Abe said. “It’s in Mexico.”

His grandmother glared at him and then she shrugged. “It’s all the same, both countries are in South America.”

“I can’t understand why she keeps coming back here,” Abe’s father volunteered, “only to leave again immediately.”

I couldn’t help but asking, “She lives here, doesn’t she?”

For the first time, Abe’s grandmother looked at me. She narrowed her eyes and stared at me for a while. Then she said, “Amanda’s crazy. She owns a house in town if that’s what you mean, boy. Her problem is she can’t stay here for long because people don’t like her.”

“That’s unfair,” Abe’s mother said. “It was not her fault AMI decided to shut down the plant. Her husband was the manager. In any case, it was Mr. Zimmerman’s fault, not hers. Now she’s forced to travel all the time instead of staying at her home.”

“Why can’t we travel all the time?” Abe’s little sister asked.

Abe’s father laughed. “Because I’m not as rich as Amanda Zimmerman. I should have been AMI’s plant manager in place of her husband.”

“If I was her,” Abe’s grandmother said, taking a large piece of steak into her mouth, “now that Aaron passed away, I’d move to a retirement place where nobody knows me. But she’s in love with Magnolia Hall, can’t figure out why. Okay, she lived there more years than anywhere else, but after Aaron Jr.’s suicide, I wouldn’t blame her if she hated the place.”

“Ma!” Abe’s mother exclaimed. “Not in front of the kids. It’s quite a sad story.”

“Nah!” Aaron’s grandmother smirked. “Nothing that happened back then is a secret, and the kids are old enough. Amanda’s crazy. Had I been kicked out of my very house by an angry mob, like she and Aaron were, only a week after my son had committed suicide there, I’d hate the place. She told me she didn’t buy the estate for her, but as part of her granddaughter’s trust. Anyway, I wouldn’t have done it. I bet her granddaughter wants nothing to do with the place where her father died.”

“Ma! I’m telling you, not in front of the kids.”

My hamburger lay forgotten on my plate. This conversation was too important to me. “Was it really a suicide?”

Abe’s grandmother stared at me again. “What’s your name, boy?”

Suddenly, I felt like the CIA was interrogating me. Abe’s grandmother eyes seemed to penetrate my mind. My face felt too hot with an emotion I couldn’t name. “Justin, ma’am.”

She nodded. “Do you know who are we talking about?”

I gulped. “Yes, ma’am. I don’t live here but my mom did and she talks all time ‘bout the people from here.”

She snorted. “And your mother is…?”

My face must have turned white because I suddenly felt it as cold as ice. Once I told her my mom was Laura Zimmerman, I’d be doomed. Everything would be discovered and they’d realize I was not the boy I pretended to be. Who knew what would happen next? I couldn’t even get my mind to imagine the consequences.

“You’re Mary Dickinson’s kid, aren’t you?” Abe’s father asked in view of my silence.

“Yes sir.” I bit my lip. I spoke way too eagerly to sound convincing. On top of that, I realized I’d just got myself into new troubles. I’d no idea who was Mary Dickinson and why Abe’s father had assumed I had to be that woman’s son. God, how was I going to come out of this unscathed? My heart raced with guilty anxiety.

“I met Mary at the Kmart last week when she was in town,” Abe’s father explained. “She told me she came to visit Sierra Dodgson and that her kid would join our scout troop’s August camp.”

“Edward invited me to join his patrol’s camp this week too. So I stayed.” I volunteered, still talking very fast. Abe’s father had clearly mistook me for someone else. Whether he’d met Mary Dickinson’s son or not, he was thinking I was him. I had to profit from his mistake.

“I see.” Abe’s grandmother drank from a beer can. “I see. Justin, tell me, why have you been wearing sunglasses all day?”

“Ma!” Abe’s mother exclaimed.

I had to think fast, very fast. “I… I can’t stand direct sunlight. My eyes are too sensitive. It’s a very uncommon illness.”
Think fast, Alexandra. Think fast.
“Lightafobia. You might have never heard of it.”