Burning in a Memory (2 page)

“Is that okay? Do you have a car you need to pick up?” he asked Adelaide.

“Home is fine,” she said.

“Where do you live?”

Adelaide hesitated for a minute. The car was in gear and peeling out onto the road before she could spring out or think twice. After another minute, she found no harm in telling them where she lived and rambled off an address along with the nearest major street names. Angie gunned it when she had some direction. Even when the mountain rapidly disappeared in the rear view mirror, Adelaide never saw any emergency vehicles pull up. The highway appeared in a short amount of time– or at least it felt like it. Adelaide rubbed her ears, willing her hearing to come back. Adam, at some point, handed her a handkerchief.

“For your...” He made a vague gesture to her head.

She nodded, quick to rub away the blood she could. Head wounds always bled too much, she knew, but the sight of crimson made her stomach churn.

“Will you have a ride to a hospital?” Adam asked.

Up front, Angie groaned overdramatically. Her fingernails beat loudly against the steering wheel as she floored it back to the city. The tension in the cab alone felt overwhelming and an elephant sat in the Jeep with them. For the amount of speeding Angie did, it seemed like the trip still dragged on. Luckily, no one felt the need to fill the space with mindless, polite chatter. Only Adam spoke.

“Just make sure you go to the hospital, okay?” he asked.

His question calling for an answer, she turned to gaze directly at him. He shifted back against the wall of the cab. Her face spoke worlds when she said nothing. After a few minutes, Angie pulled up to Adelaide’s street, and, from there, Adelaide pointed out the right house. On a block where every house looked the same, the only thing setting it apart from the rest was its overgrown grass in the pavers.

“Home sweet home,” Angie commented
dryly from the front, a clear indication for them to disembark. Adam got out first and rushed for Adelaide’s door but she had beaten him to the handle. Her boots hit the ground and she proceeded slowly toward the house. Adam trailed at her side, only speaking when they were noticeably out of his redheaded companion’s earshot.

“The hospital,” he reminded.

Shock and adrenaline had worn down enough that Adelaide cleared her head.

“Cut it out,” she snapped. “I’m not in shock because I got hit. I’m in shock because I saw what you did. That wasn’t normal... that was magic...”

“Shush, please,” Adam interjected, almost begging her. His hands came out in a pleading gesture, but he didn’t reach out. She felt her face redden as she delved instead into whispers.

“I just haven’t quite wrapped my head around it yet. But I know what I saw.”

“Yea and Angie’s going to flip shit on you for knowing that,” he insisted. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you but I definitely don’t want you to tell anyone what you saw. We need to hash this out.”

They reached the door and Adelaide posted herself in front of the frame before he could offer to open it. The Jeep seemed both close and far away, and she never forgot
about Angie sitting there.

“I’m scared shitless,” she said slowly. “But you also saved my life. Adam, you saved me.”

This time he did reach out, brushing her shoulder as if the touch would anchor them both to Earth. The gesture did more than exhibit a friendly goodbye, but a stranger’s beckoning for trust.

“I’ll come by tomorrow to make sure you’re okay, and we’ll talk about this whole thing without Angela breathing down our necks. All I ask is that you don’t do anything crazy, and don’t tell anyone about us.”

About their names, their tag, their car—or any of the identifying information she had gathered. He would be back, she knew then, because he wouldn’t risk not coming back now. And maybe he even cared; that thought left her with a weak smile.

“Tomorrow around noon. I’ll even spring for pizza.”

He matched her grin.

“Sold. Be safe now,” he said.

She refused to go inside until Adam walked away, hopped in the Jeep, and disappeared down the street. A few moments passed before she jingled the knob. The door creaked as it opened, and the explosion of dust made her cough. She slipped inside and sealed it behind her. Between closed blinds and no lights, very little of the interior was illuminated. She strolled by the plastic covered couches and into the living room where the musty scent was the most minimal. The rugs had blackened and the coffee table dry rotted, but she plopped down in the only leather chair that remained uncovered. Shadows of frames once on the walls decorated the place, and the home resounded with absolute, bitter silence.

She didn’t consider for a second the cleanup she’d have to do by tomorrow. Instead, her smile radiated.  She whispered to the empty room, “I’ve become quite the good actress.”

              She squinted at the road until the asphalt appeared to steam from the sunlight and flickering mirages danced before her eyes.  Looking away, she blindly sought out the flimsy shade cord and shut herself in the dimness of the downstairs bedroom.

“What a way for another guy to make me wait for him,” she complained aloud, officially giving up on watching for his car. She hadn’t looked at the clock in a while but knew the digital display would only make her more anxious. Willing away her headache, she slid off the
window sill and walked back into the hall. She sized up her artificial curls that were falling by the hour. Her makeup held well, at least, and the pink baby doll tee fit just as nicely as it always had. When she was satisfied her look was the perfect balance of wholesome and whoresome, she walked into the living room.

When the knock finally came at her door, she
resisted the urge to run to open it. She forced her feet to move slowly and waited precious moments before she stopped at the front door. Looking through the peephole, she found a man on the other side, but it took a minute for her to recognize that man as Adam. Since the last time she’d seen him, he cleaned up surprisingly well. Stubble gone, his face was clean-shaven and his jaw line more prominent. His brown hair had been cut and brushed neatly. He wore a dark collared shirt that had been pressed and accented the natural color of his skin.

             
“It’s me,” Adam called through the door, as if she couldn’t see him. The sound of his voice snapped her out of her daze though, and she unbolted the locks.

             
“Hey, I was waiting for you,” she said with a careful smile as she opened the door. Adam actually looked taken aback to see her, but if he checked her out at all, he did it subtly.

             
Something drew her attention behind him and she spotted a black sedan, just in time to see it pulling away from the corner. Her driveway was empty, making it very clear that Adam had not driven here alone. She didn’t blame him for the safety precautions, but stashed the information in the back of her mind.

“How are you doing? Did you see a doctor? Please tell me you’re doing better,” Adam
asked.

He shamelessly searched for the gash on her
forehead, which had been red and raw the day earlier. She’d concealed it well with caked-on foundation and it appeared to be sufficient enough to satisfy his inquiry.

“Yea, yea, doctors. I’m feeling
all right. Come in, please.”

His lips formed a thin line of disapproval but it disappeared when she waved him inside.  He followed her into the dining room before turn
ing his attention to the home. She anxiously waited as he took a cursory look around. She’d spent hours cleaning the place and moving furniture in and out until it looked like a home again. It only lacked personal touches, photos, and a true sense of being lived in. She hoped he would overlook the latter. Nineteen year olds were never known for their decorating skills.

“It’s nice,” he surmised lightly and it sounded like he’d given it as little thought as she hoped.

“We can sit in the living room,” she said and gestured to the other room. Of all of the rooms, it smelled the least of bleach and more of fresh air from the open windows.

“Do you have roommates?” he asked.

“Just me,” she said.

He made it into the living room and did another sweeping look. This time he made a face.

“This is huge for just you. I wish I had these digs in college. Do you own it?”

She laughed but her stomach did a somersault.

“I rent. I thought later I’d find a roommate but I haven’t been trying that hard,” she said.

He bought it apparently.

“I don’t blame you. I hate sharing a house.”

Once in the living room, he invited himself to sit down on the leather couch and stretch
ed out. He seemed fairly relaxed with her, so she tried to follow suit. She circled to the fridge and fetched two cans of Coke.

“Would you like something to drink?” she offered.

“Please sit. I came to check on you, not for you to wait on me.”

She waved him down before he could get up from his seat. Sliding the cold cans onto the counter, she grabbed the phone from its cradle. Hitting the button, she listened for the dial tone.

              “Well, I gotta order the pizza anyway. Preference on type? Place?”

“I like everything. Your choice,” he said.

“Papa John’s it is.”

She dialed from memory and pressed the phone to her ear. A medium pepperoni was always the go-to, but she honestly wasn’t even hungry. The cashier on the other end rattled off an estimated time and hung up. She replaced the phone in the cradle and readied herself for the inevitable.

“So, let’s talk,” she regarded him. Crossing into the living room, she handed him a can before settling into a rocking chair. Adam finally perked up and slid to the end of his seat.

“What do you want to know?” he asked
cautiously in return.

“It’s so weird
that I don’t even know what to ask you. I spent the whole time doubting what I saw, but every time I convinced myself that what I saw was the result of heat stroke or a concussion, it didn’t add up. I know I wouldn’t have survived that rockslide if not for a miracle. Or magic.”

“I was hoping you’d think it was just a concussion. That works on a lot of people,” he said.

“I guess I’m not ‘a lot of people.’ I want you to know, though, that I didn’t tell anyone what I saw.”

He met her eyes and nodded.

“Thank you,” he quipped.

She cracked open her soda and took a long sip while she formulated her thoughts. This conversation wasn’t going
as easily as she’d hoped. She could see the tension in the muscle ticks of his neck and shoulders. If she could have found a way to make him feel more comfortable, she would have jumped on it. When she found no way out, she just dove in the only questions she could ask.

“How did you do it? How did you save us?”

“I used magic to shelter us, the same as Angie used to stop the boulder from crushing her.”

“So you’re both the same,” she gasped. Putting a hand to her forehead, she focused on the ground. “How come I’ve never heard of this before?”

“It’s not exactly something that’s common knowledge. My kind has been hunted and killed all throughout history. But unless we have that label affixed to us, it’s impossible to tell us apart from other people. We are normal with normal lives and only other mages can see through that.”

She looked up at him.

“So you’re a witch?”

He laughed dryly.

“No,” he said.

“A telepath?”

“No. No way. I am a mage. Angie is a mage. It’s a bit different, but please don’t picture the green woman over the smoking cauldron. I’m also not on the X-men team or anything of the sort.”

She smiled at him shyly. She was certain she saw a hint of pink in his
cheeks now.

“Sorry. I’m still learning. What else can you do?”

Adam frowned momentarily, as if he reconsidered teaching her anything. If he had reservations, he finally gave them up.

“It’s hard to show really. We work within the power of our auras upon the world around us. I’ll spare you the long explanations though.”

Right when he finished speaking, she heard the fridge door open. Glasses rattled overhead. The candles in the corner flickered and reached all the way up to the ceiling. The potted plant in the corner sprouted flowers and died within the same second. Her head was whirling to keep up with it all. She let her jaw hit the floor.

“You’re a superhero,” she said.

This time she was certain his face lit up. He focused on his Coke now.

“I
’m not. It’s useful but surprisingly less useful than you think it would be. Those are just parlor tricks. The hard things come with work and exercising your aura is like exercising any other muscle. Some are better athletes than others.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re one of the best,” she exclaimed.

Adam denied it with a shake of his head.

“You saved my life
, Adam. I can never thank you enough for that.”