Call Out (6 page)

“Down that street to your right you’ll find
restaurants,” he said to Brian. “Stretch said you’d want to know.
Bring back more than you think he’ll eat. Magic takes a lot out of
you. And grab me a Cuban and a Coke.”

With that he turned and headed toward the
house, motioning for London to follow him. Maybe I was seeing
things, but to me it seemed like London wanted nothing more than to
turn and run. Instead he rubbed a hand over his face and slung my
backpack onto his shoulder.

“You okay alone with him?” Brian asked,
nodding toward Ashe’s retreating back.

“Sure,” London said, though he didn’t sound
sure at all. He looked up at the sky, and I wondered if he were
asking for help. “He wants to show me how to find her. Says it’s my
job, not his.”

“He wants you to use your powers?” I
asked.

“Yup.”

“London,” Brian said, his voice hardly more
than a whisper, “you don’t have to do this.”

London turned his face from the sky and
looked at his friend. “Yeah, I do. He won’t help us any other way,
and it’s our best shot at finding Dylan.” Brian started to say
something else, but London cut him off. “It’s okay, Brian.
Really.”

Brian stopped trying to argue. He just
grabbed London in a fierce hug and then dragged me off in search of
breakfast.

We had rounded the corner and were halfway
down the next block when I got desperate and dug my heels in,
literally. I braced myself and pulled, but Brian had a death grip
on my hand. I don’t think he had even realized it until that
moment, when I threw my full weight backward and jerked his arm
hard enough it had to have hurt like a son of a bitch. He didn’t
let go - I would have ended up busting my ass on the sidewalk if he
had – but he relaxed his grip so he wasn’t hurting me. When I was
steady, he did let go, dragging both of his hands through his hair
and flopping back against a weathered picket fence.

I didn’t know what to do to help, so I just
stood there feeling and looking like an idiot.

“He’s run from this for so damn long,” Brian
said. “And here I drag him back into it.”

For a moment, I just stood there, watching
him and gathering my thoughts. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about
London’s emotional crisis, but Dylan could, for all we knew, be in
very real, physical danger. Emotional fallout we could deal with,
but if Dylan got hurt, we might not be able to fix that.

“Is there something I’m missing here, or is
London really tweaked out about this magic stuff because of some
stupid girl?”

That surprised a laugh out of Brian. “Not
only that. He told you about finding out about his powers, about
being treated like a freak in high school.”

“That had to be...what, ten years ago?”

“More like fifteen. But he learned then to
hide what and who he was, and it took him a long time to trust
anyone with all of himself. He opened up to Adrian, Kent, and me,
and we accepted him. So he opened up to Kelly, and that was a minor
disaster. Then Julia came along and really screwed him over.”

“So...he really is tweaking out about some
stupid girl.”

Brian smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes.
“Have you ever been in love, Elizabeth? Really in love? Thought
you’d found someone to spend the rest of your life with?”

“I don’t believe in happily ever after.”

“I’d forgotten that about you,” he replied.
“But if I remember right, you gave up on that happily ever after
because some asshole broke your heart.”

I shrugged. “It happens to everybody. I just
don’t feel the need to go through it again. Like, ever again.”

“Yeah. But some of us don’t give up
easily.”

I shrugged again. “Are you going to give me
romantic advice or tell me what’s going on with London?”

“If you’ve never really been in love, I’m not
sure I can explain it to you. What it’s like to find the one who
you’re sure you want to wake up beside every morning for the rest
of your life. Or what it’s like to find out that that she isn’t who
you thought she was. What it’s like to watch all your dreams and
plans crumble into dust.”

I remembered that Brian had once been left at
the altar, so to speak. I guess he knew better than anyone what
London had dealt with in the aftermath of his relationship with
Julia. But as I thought about my own failed relationships, I began
to understand. I’d had a fair few boyfriends and even been engaged
a couple of times. Had I ever really been in love? I didn’t know
for sure. But I knew how much it had hurt every single time things
went wrong.

“I think I get it.”

Something in my voice or face must have given
away my thoughts and feelings, because Brian pulled me in for a
hug.

“Then I think you know that it’s not really
just about a stupid girl,” he said. “And it’s gotten worse in the
last year.”

“Why now?” I asked, drawing away from Brian
to lean beside him on the fence.

“My guess is that when he hit 30, he kind of
got slapped in the face with his own mortality. Seeing his high
school friends and his brothers and sister getting married and
realizing it’s not in the cards for him on top of that whole
not-getting-any-younger thing.”

“It’s not like there’s some law that says you
can’t fall in love after 30.”

Brian smiled. “Lucky for me.” The smile
faded, and I knew he was back to worrying about Dylan.

“So he’s running from his magic because it’s
screwed up his life?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. “That’s the
story the way he tells it. There might me more to it, though. I
think there’s something he’s keeping from us, but I could be
wrong.”

That there might be other considerations with
this whole magic thing was something I hadn’t taken into
account.

“What London’s doing...is it dangerous?” I
asked

Brian brought his arms down to cross them
tightly across his chest. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

That wasn’t the answer I’d expected, and it
wasn’t one I wanted to hear. We didn’t need anything – or anyone –
else to worry about.

“He’s made his decision, Brian,” I said. It
was the only argument I had. “You didn’t ask him to do any of this.
He said he was on his way to Orlando before you ever told him about
Dylan.”

“He was,” Brian admitted. “But if he hadn’t
been, I’d have asked him to come. I’d have asked him to tell me if
she was okay.”

I laid my hand on his arm. “You wouldn’t have
had to ask. He wouldn’t have let you ask, because he wouldn’t want
you to feel like you do right now.”

I didn’t know London well enough to say this
for sure, but it was how things worked with me and Dylan, and I was
willing to bet the same was true for London and Brian. It must have
been, because Brian sighed and gave me a nod.

“You’re right. Doesn’t make me feel any
better, but you’re right.”

“I think the only thing that’ll make any of
us feel better is finding Dylan.” My stomach growled, and I added,
“And maybe some food.”

Brian managed a smile as he pushed away from
the fence.

“And you really need to learn your right from
your left,” I added. “We’re supposed to be going the other
way.”

We backtracked, me in the lead and Brian
trailing after, each wrapped in our own thoughts. We crossed
Elizabeth, now headed in the right direction, and then a second
street. We neared another intersection, and this one looked
familiar. I glanced at the street sign, and then took Brian’s hand.
We had reached Duval Street, the main drag of the tourist area and
the street where we had spent that one amazing day with Dylan.

I knew if we turned either direction on Duval
that we’d find plenty of places to eat, but I kept walking. I
wanted to avoid stirring up any more memories than necessary, and I
was sure Brian felt the same way. I guess I was right, because he
kept his head down as we crossed Duval, trying not to notice, not
to remember.

A little farther down the street, we came
across a few restaurants. I found one advertising conch fritters
and decided it would do. I got my fritters and Ashe’s Cuban
sandwich, and Brian ordered for himself and London. With the
amazing smells coming from the carry-out bag, the walk back to
Ashe’s seemed ten times as long as the walk down had been.

The rumbly in my tumbly had gone from
embarrassing to annoying to damned near deafening by the time we
got back to Ashe’s house. Brian had insisted on carrying everything
– enormous food bag in one hand and drink carrier in the other – so
that left me to knock on the door. London answered it. That perfect
peaches-and-cream complexion was now more the color of the milk at
the bottom of a bowl of Boo Berry cereal.

I barely had time to ask, “Are you okay,”
before he had me wrapped in his arms. He cradled my head against
his chest, and I could hear his heart racing. I figured it was a
good thing I was first through the door. I was pretty sure London
would have reacted the same way regardless, and his clinging to
Brian like this would have been a little awkward even for them.

“Yup. Peachy,” he said, but I wasn’t buying
it.

“You don’t lie worth a shit,” Brian told him.
“Never have.”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” London said,
and that I believed.

I stepped back so I could see London’s face,
and he let go of me. He looked embarrassed. Rubbing the back of his
neck, he took a couple of deep breaths.

“I...I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have
grabbed you like that.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’m okay. You
didn’t hurt me, or scare me, or piss me off. You are kind of
worrying me though.”

London nodded and rubbed his temple like he
had a headache. I saw his hand shake as he reached out to brace
himself against the doorframe. Brian looked as worried as I
was.

Ashe sauntered into the living room, hands in
his pockets. He looked at the tableau in the doorway and sighed.
“In or out,” he said. “Pick one. You’re letting out the bought
air.”

Brian and I looked at each other, not at all
sure what to do. Ashe walked up to us and clapped a hand on
London’s shoulder. He was tall enough that it wasn’t an awkward
gesture.

“Shake it off, Stretch,” he said. His voice
held a hint of something I hadn’t expected to hear: compassion. He
stepped back and gestured for us to walk past. “Kitchen is straight
through there,” he said, pointing toward and open doorway. “We’ll
be along in a minute.”

Not knowing what else to do, Brian and I went
through to the kitchen. A breakfast table stood on one side of the
small, neat room. Brian set down the food and drinks and then
turned to me.

“Any idea what the hell that was all about?”
he asked me.

I just shook my head.

“Shrinks call it cognitive dissonance,” Ashe
said as he stepped into the kitchen. “Big fancy way of saying his
intuition is at war with what society says is acceptable. He’ll be
okay.”

I watched as Ashe moved around the small
space, fetching plates and forks and coasters for our meal. We
could have eaten straight from the carry-out containers, but it was
Ashe’s house, and his dishes. If he wanted everything plated up,
who was I to argue? I helped him set the table, and by the time we
were done London had joined us. He looked a little more stable.

The four of us sat down, and Ashe surprised
me again by saying grace before we all dug in. London concentrated
on his food, his face grim. His hands were steady now, though, and
he’d gotten some of his color back.

I turned my attention to my own food. I
savored every bite of my fritters so I could brag to Dylan later,
when we had her back safe and sound. I imagined myself telling her
that she didn’t have to scare us all half to death just to get me
back to Key West. She’d call me a bitch, and I’ll call her a
hooker, and we’d both be really damned grateful to be there, in
that moment.

Ashe’s voice drew me out of my imaginings. He
talked a little about Key West, a little about the callous
destruction of the Everglades, a little about his restored El
Camino. Drifting from topic to topic like a rubber raft at high
tide, he filled up the awkward silence. And he never once mentioned
magic.

Chapter Seven

After lunch – or breakfast, for most of us –
Brian and I helped Ashe clear the table. None of us would let
London help. Ashe insisted we leave the actual cleaning up for him
to take care of later. He made coffee, which Brian and I both
turned down. London just sat with his mug cradled in his hands,
staring into it as if it held the answers to the great mysteries of
life.

Ashe slid back into his chair, his own
steaming cup of coffee in hand. “You ready for this?” he asked.

London shook his head but said, “As ready as
I’ll ever be.” He looked up, first at Brian and then at me. “I
think...I don’t want you guys here for this.”

I didn’t know what ‘this’ was or how long it
might take, but I didn’t like the idea of our little group being
separated for too long. I was still trying to come up with a
reasonable response when Brian asked, “Where is it we’re supposed
to go, exactly?” I’d never seen Brian angry, but I could tell he
was headed that way in a hurry.

London’s eyes went wide, and I wondered if
he’d ever been on Brian’s bad side before. But then London said,
“That’s not what I meant.”

Color me confused. “What’s not what you
meant?”

“Brian thinks I wanted you guys to go back to
Orlando without me. But that’s...no. No, we came here together for
a reason.”

“Oh.” Sparkling wit, that’s me.

I could almost see the anger bleed out of
Brian. He sighed deeply and slumped in his chair. “I guess the
question still stands,” he said.

“If you weren’t the broken-hearted
boyfriend,” Ashe said, “I’d offer you two the use of my guest room.
I imagine that’d keep you both out of our hair for...at least an
hour.”