Amber Eyes (9 page)

I woke up with a start. Tons of sweat trickled down my face, like I’d been out in the rain, and my hands trembled like I was 80 years old.

It’d just been a dream—Jenny would never do that to me.

Next I saw my grandparents¬—my mother’s folks. Twice, I saw them leaving their seats and walking to the restroom. Prob was I couldn’t be sure if it was really them or somebody else because I barely remembered them. Once I saw their wedding picture—a yellowish copy Mom kept hidden in a drawer under her panties—but I couldn’t quite remember their faces.

I sighed and looked out the window, afraid of falling sleep again. We rushed along a black, empty highway. Occasionally, I’d glance at the lights of a lonely farm in the middle of nowhere. Only once another car crossed in the opposite direction.

Had my dad lived, my life would have been different. Why did he have to die? An accident, Mom said. An accident because he was drunk. Mom’s and Dad’s folks blamed it on her. They said she turned him into a drunkard and alienated her so we left Abbeville when I was four years old. At least that’s what Mom had told me once. I wondered if my grandparents had been right.

July 2, 8:23 am

When I awoke the next day, my stomach growled—I bordered on starvation. Some breakfast would be cool. Hunger was causing my temples to throb and I also had a headache. Maybe it wasn’t hunger but the heat because it boiled inside my jacket—the air conditioning seemed to be off. I found my cell phone inside its right pocket with the word ‘Laura’ still blinking on its screen.

I glanced to my right. A pair of legs in blue jeans rested in the neighboring seat, some long, long legs, wearing black sneakers like the ones I wore—I bet I looked like a clown in that oversized jacket with those Goofy-like shoes.

The blue jeans beside me matched a soccer team t-shirt, and the t-shirt was worn by a dark guy with faint stubble. He seemed to be all muscles. His Starbucks espresso brown eyes were staring at me. He said, “Morning. How you feeling?”

“Fine… I guess.”

“Feeling hungry? You only had some coffee last night. There’s one sandwich left, but we’ve run out of coffee.”

I smiled. Edward was permanently gentle. “Yes, Eddy, thanks. I’m starving.”

He frowned and raised a finger just like Mr. Turner, my school master, would have done. “Let’s get this clear. I don’t like nicks. I never use them and don’t like being called nicks. I’m not Eddy, Ed, ‘Dward, Wardie, or some other nonsense. You’re Justin, and I’m Edward. Period.”

I lowered my head feeling like a jackass that had just hee-hawed. I’d just met the guy last night and had already pissed him off. “I’m sorry.”

Edward grinned and flashed his Colgate MaxFresh teeth. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve just met and you don’t know me. I’m not angry. I just wanted to make myself clear. My old man says only cons and their buddies use nicks.”

I felt embarrassed and didn’t want to face him, even though my face was half covered by my dark sunglasses. I turned. The window had steamed up. I wiped it with my sleeve and saw several factory buildings lined along the highway.

“Edward, what’s that?”

“What?” He leaned on me to gaze through the window. His aroma flooded my nostrils— the strong sweat and lime cologne combination I’d noticed since the previous evening. I closed my eyes and relished it. “Oh, that! It’s the old AMI, car manufacturing plant. Shut down 10 or 11 years ago. Big mess. Whole town lost their jobs. There even was a riot.”

A riot? A full revolution-scale uprising! The buildings looked like the ones in zombies-and-mutants-survival films: crashed windows, battered chain-link fences and gates, and burnt cars littered in the yards.

“Did it happen here? The riot, I mean.”

“Hell, no! Seems so, doesn’t it?” Edward still leaned on my leans, gazing outside through the window. Delighted by his aroma, I inhaled again, closing my eyes—butterflies fluttered inside my stomach. He must have realized what I’d just done because he sat up immediately and moved back to his seat. “Sorry, I must stink. Didn’t have time to shower after the game. I changed into clean clothes and threw the full cologne bottle on myself, but I bet I stink anyway.” He smelled his armpits, grimaced and laughed. Then he pointed at the buildings outside. “The plant manager lived in Magnolia Hall, the mansion of an old cotton plantation on the byway to Rock Mills. The union camped outside Magnolia Hall. They wanted to see the manager—everybody wanted their jobs back. On the third day, the manager and his wife fled in a chopper and the riot started. Half of the town broke into the property and raided the house; they almost set it afire. The police arrested over 300 people.”

Wow! I could imagine the mayhem: crazed zombies searching the place for humans to eat and babies to snack on.

“How do you know so much? Were you there?”

He smiled. “Hell no. My old man’s the sheriff. He was an officer back then. Got shot and almost lost a leg. He’s told me the story many times. Some buddies and I will go camping at Magnolia Hall today. Not inside the house, of course. It’s falling apart. Nobody’s allowed inside. But the place’s gotten a forest and a lake. They gave us permission to camp in the forest.”

Now it seemed we’ve just entered the city. Houses and streets passed by the window. Inside the bus, some passengers got up and took their bags down from the luggage rack.

“Do you guys camp a lot?”

“Totally. Like I told you last night, I’m an Eagle Scout. I’ll go camping with my patrol, the Wolves—four guys and me. We’re practicing for our troop’s big summer camp—a full three weeks out in August, but now it’ll only be five days.”

He rose from his seat and pulled his backpack down from the luggage rack. I pictured myself camping, fishing or swimming in a lake. So cool. “So, this place like, is it nearby?”

Edward threw himself back to his seat and placed the backpack on his lap. “Fifteen minutes by car, half an hour walking. Abraham Lincoln’s old man’s gonna drive us. It’s gonna be cool. People say the place’s haunted.”

It all sounded so cool. I wished to go with his group, however crazy. “I’ve never gone out camping, but I’d love to.”

“Really? Camping’s awesome.” Edward stood silent for a moment as if thinking about something. “If you wish, you can join our scout troop. I’d invite you to come along with us today, but I don’t believe you’re up for it. We’ll leave in 2 hours at half past 10.”

If he only knew he’d just invited a girl to go camping with a bunch of guys…

“Thanks, but I don’t even have the stuff. I mean a sleeping bag, a tent and that stuff.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. I can lend you a sleeping bag. Got several. You don’t need a tent either. We’ve two tents. We share them.”

“Where will you guys meet?”

“Right where we get off this bus.”

It would have been cool camping out with them, but it wasn’t gonna happen. It’s impossible for a girl to go camping with a bunch of guys no matter how tomboyish she might look.

Edward placed a hand on my shoulder and my stomach hardened. “I’m sure your gram will get you new clothes. If you need anything in the meantime, call me. I can lend you a coupla things. Coupla sizes big, though.”

I closed my eyes and nodded. Since Mom left, everything had been hard. At least this guy was being supportive, and he was
sooo
very hot.

July 2, 8:49 am

Edward and I got off the bus at the corner of Main Street and some dead president, Lincoln or Jefferson, or one of those guys. He led me almost to Abbeville’s outskirts, which was not far away—the town was barely a ten-blocks-square village. There stood grandma’s house: a small, white, single-story cottage, with a cute garden around it.

Edward checked his watch. “Got a lot of stuff to do and little time. But I can stay until you talk to your gram, if you wish.”

It’d be awesome if he would stay in case anything would go wrong. Chances were infinite. What would happen if my grandma was no longer living here or if she didn’t recognize me? After so many years, she could have forgotten she ever had a granddaughter. Edward could have been mistaken and that house might have belonged to somebody else. So, the best thing would have been if he waited, just in case.

On second thought, it was better if he left. When my grandma opened the door and I’d tell her who I was, Edward would discover I was not a boy. He’d ask many questions, and so would grandma. One too many freakin’ explanations at the same time, which would make me pull my hair out.

I shrugged and tried to fix a smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. What could ever go wrong? It’s not like she’s traveling abroad.”

“I don’t think so. Her car’s parked down there.” Edward pointed at a white Toyota. “She must be at home. Okay. See ya next week. I promise I’ll drop by.”

“But, how ‘bout your jacket and your sneakers?”

“No prob. Give them back to me later. Ask Granny to wash the jacket, deal?”

Jeez, of course! I’d almost forgotten last night. I’d became the fastest jacket-ravager in the Wild West, soiling Edward’s with coffee. Had it been my jacket, I’d hate myself. The temperature of my face started to rise. “Sorry for ruining your jacket.”

“You can’t be serious. It only needs a wash.” Edward extended his hand. “See you soon.”

I hesitated. Nobody would have guessed I was going to take a hot guy’s hand, even if it was only gonna be a handshake. This was totally new to me—hot guys never paid me any attention.

Note to self:
Be honest, Alexandra. Nerds didn’t pay any attention to you either.

I shook his hand and he crushed mine like he’d done before. My face boiled over 1,000 degrees. Surely, I resembled a tomato and Edward had no clue what was going on. I immediately told myself I was not developing a crush on Edward. Not in this lifetime. I was Jenny’s girlfriend, period.

And yet… I wanted him to hold my hand forever and feel his warmth. My stomach hardened and then softened, then it started to tingle more and more the longer he kept shaking my hand. I was not used to guys being nice to me, so I couldn’t figure out how to behave.

“So…” he said, “see you later.”

I realized I was the one not releasing him, not the other way around. I couldn’t talk. I knew I’d babble if I tried to because my tongue felt numb. Confusion dominated me. I hiccuped. Then I hiccuped again and then a third time. Edward burst into laughter.

“God!” I burst into laughter too and hiccuped a fourth time. This time louder. Edward couldn’t stop guffawing, and neither could I. The more I laughed, the more I hiccuped. My face radiated heat like a forest fire.

“Got to rush.”

“Sure.”

He winked me an eye, turned and walked down the street whistling a song. Somebody appeared at a window and called to him. He waved. A kid riding a bike passed by his side and shouted, “You’re back. Cool! Did you guys win?”

Edward waved to him. “Of course. Four to nothing!”

“Awesome!”

Edward disappeared some minutes later around a corner and I couldn’t stay any longer in the middle of the street like an idiot. Time to get hands on. I crossed the street and approached Grandma’s house. Knocking on her door should have been the easiest thing on earth to do, shouldn’t it? Well, it wasn’t. I couldn’t. My fist froze in midair, and my arm didn’t obey me. I gulped. I waited some seconds before raising my fist again. Once more, I couldn’t knock—unbelievable. I stamped a foot on the floor. It was so frustrating that I couldn’t figure out what on Earth was happening to me.

Correction, I actually did know Fear. Fear was happening to me: I feared my granny might not recognize me. I feared she might disapprove of my idea of living with her and would send me to a children’s home instead. I feared she was dead. She might have died years ago without anybody telling Mom. I feared somebody else might live in her house now. I gulped. I couldn’t give up to my fears. I had to do it.

I closed my eyes and knocked. “Granny! It’s me, Alexandra!” Nobody answered. I knocked harder. “Granny! Hello!”

Nobody came. Bet she was deaf and couldn’t hear when somebody knocked. Better try the doorbell. I pushed the button and heard a chime. I pushed it twice.

Nobody came.

“Granny! It’s Alexandra, your granddaughter! Open up!”

If she wasn’t at home, I’d have to wait. My hand searched inside the jacket’s pocket and took out the cell phone earplugs. I twirled the cable around my fingers. Bet Granny had gone out to the nearest Wal-Mart to get some groceries. Or she was having breakfast at some friend’s. Her car stood in her parking spot. She
had
to be in town. She wasn’t really traveling abroad, was she?

# # #

When I checked my cell phone screen for the thousandth time, it was 9:40. I’d been sitting on Grandma’s porch for almost one full stupid hour. I wondered where she’d gone. I rose and rang the doorbell twice, knocking on the door too. Then I waited.

The last time I’d been knocking in vain at a door had been when Mom and I lived with Gregory, another of her boyfriends. One afternoon after school, Mom couldn’t open our apartment door. The locks had been changed. Another good man that was gonna take care of us had just ditched us.

# # #

“Laura… ah… what’s going on? Why’s our junk… hum… outta here?” My gaze ambles from the pile of our clothes by the door to Mom. Suddenly, I need more air and unbutton my blouse’s top button.

“This nerd’s trying to dump me, that’s what’s going on! But that’s not gonna happen.” Mom is as freaked out as I am scared. She kicks and bangs the door, curses like crazy and demands Gregory to open up—she can get pretty aggressive when she quarrels with her boyfriends. “Open up, son of a—!”

I rub my arms and glance around. “Let’s get outta here, Mom. We’re getting too much attention. The neighbors might call the police.”

“In your dreams, Alexandra. I’m gonna make this nerd pay. I’ll kill him! And don’t call me Mom. You sound like a retard.” She pulls on the doorknob so hard, I think it may come off in her hands.

Maybe Gregory isn’t at home, or maybe he’s just preferred to not open up—we never find it out. We have to leave the building when the police shows up. Sitting on the sidewalk watching how Mom argues with a cop, I wonder whether Mom really meant to kill Gregory. My personal fear is that, during those times when she gets angry and totally freaks out, she can very well end up murdering somebody—if she hasn’t already done so.