Fire Baptized (5 page)

As soon as I heard it, I bolted for the windows at the end. I got there in no time. They were unlocked, as usual. I used them as one of my many alternate exits on campus. Anytime a Witch bothered me, I always left the building through the window. Thankfully, Shifters on campus never messed with me. No one wanted to deal with MeShack.

I glanced at my watch. Captain Habitat’s hand was on the twelve. MeShack had a course in Supernatural Cell Regeneration. It ended in fifteen minutes. I pushed the window up. Cool, moist air brushed by, carrying the smell of freshly cut grass. I climbed out, forcing myself not to sing the Captain Habitat theme song.

Today is a serious mission.

Five minutes later, I arrived at MeShack’s class and peeked through the glass door. He sat in the third row between two women. His green and brown frat shirt clung to his muscular chest. The brunette on his right watched him from the corner of her eye. Each time he glanced her way, she’d blush, look somewhere else, and scribble in her notebook. A blonde sat on his left. She noticed me looking through the door and waved as if we were best friends.

I smiled back, not recognizing her, and motioned for her to get MeShack’s attention. She tapped his shoulder and pointed to me. MeShack looked, stuck his middle finger up, and returned his focus to the lecture. Maybe I should have called last night and told him I wasn’t coming home.

Seconds later, students packed their books. The brunette still gazed at MeShack. He glanced at her again, wrote something down, and put it on her desk. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

You’re such an opportunist, MeShack.

I glanced at my watch. The professor had lectured three minutes after the set time to end. Tapping my feet nervously, I checked for any sign of Ray.

Students walked out of the class, but none of them were MeShack. Another minute passed. More students strolled by, some bumping into me as if I didn’t exist. But no MeShack. Even the brunette exited, humming. I glanced back into class and spotted him.

He remained at his desk, his lips in an angry line.

It’s ego-stroking time.

I sighed, entered the class, and bumped into the professor on his way out.

“Sorry, sir.” I headed toward MeShack.

MeShack kept his eyes on the wall covered with diagrams of Were-hyena cells during the four shifting stages.

“Were you with Zulu the whole night?” he asked as if he hadn’t just given the brunette his number—or, better yet—as if we were still together.

“Yes.” I strolled over to him and sat on the top of his desk. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“Did you sleep with him?” He looked at his hands as they lay on the desk.

“None of your business.” I tugged at one of his curls with my fingers. He waved my hand away as the curl bounced back to his face.

“You don’t smell like him.” He focused his hazel eyes on me.

“Are you sure?” I sniffed at my arms. A low growl came from his throat. I held in a giggle.

“There was no sex. Just dinner between friends.” I pulled a curl hanging near his shoulder. He nipped at my hand.

Not wanting to waste any more time, I said, “So, the psycho guy from the alley left a note on our door.”

He snapped his face up to mine. A loud rumble came from his throat as I told him about the note, Detective Rivera’s message, and my escape from Ray.

“I want to go over to Carmen’s apartment and let her family know that she’s dead. Fuck the habbie and his threats.” I shrugged. “The kid is probably sitting there with the dad or grandmother, wondering why Carmen didn’t come home.”

“No need to convince me. I know how that is.” He got up from his desk. “And, La La, I would do anything for you, but if it gets dangerous, we leave.”

“I don’t think it will get dangerous.”

“This psycho could be the kid’s father.”

I thought about that for a few seconds. “Then I’m really glad you’re coming with me. You’re my backup.”

“Oh, really? I’m the backup?” Laughter bubbled from his chest.

Shifters and their egos. I shook my head as he finally stopped laughing.

I got ready to jump off his desk but didn’t as he grabbed my waist and kissed me. My heart stopped beating. His hungry lips pressed into mine. I leaned back. He hooked his thumbs through my belt loops and tugged me closer. He explored my mouth with his tongue.

I shuddered, tasting honey as his fingers combed through my dreadlocks, grabbing a handful and gently pulling my head back. A moan escaped my lips. He stopped kissing me and nibbled the curve of my neck.

“I miss kissing you,” he whispered.

Reality washed over me like a cold shower. We shouldn’t be kissing.

“No more.” I put my hands to his chest, increasing the heat in my palms so he knew I was serious.

“Okay.” He nuzzled my neck for a few seconds and then stepped back. “Thanks for the kiss.”

“Your timing is shitty.”

He moved in a blur to the door. “The only time I can get one is when you’re off your guard.”

“Let’s just focus on not getting killed today, lover boy.”

The elevator doors creaked open to the seventh floor. MeShack and I maneuvered around a puddle of urine and stepped out, smothering our noses with our hands to block the stench of bodily waste. Two roaches the size of plums scurried by my feet. I cringed and jumped to the other side of the hallway, scanning the gray cement floor for more disease-infested insects, but no others arrived to greet us. MeShack snickered. I stuck my tongue out at him.

The sweet aroma of fried plantains floated out of the apartment on my left, filling my mouth with saliva. My stomach growled. I checked the letter on the door and was pissed, realizing it wasn’t our destination.

We continued.

A crash sounded from several doors down, possibly plates or lamps breaking against a wall. Yells followed in male and female voices and then more crashes. Relief filled me when I noticed it wasn’t Carmen’s place.

The last door stood at the end. Cracked pea green paint covered it. The letter G hung sideways in the center. A
TV
from inside blared cartoons.

“You think someone’s in there?” I held my hand up to knock. MeShack shrugged as he scanned the area behind us. I tapped twice and heard the
TV
turn off, but no one answered. MeShack walked up to the door and pounded several times.

“Are you crazy? You’re banging on the door like you’re a habbie. What if the guy with the machete is in there?” I kept my voice low, stepping out of the peephole’s view.

“Good. Then we kill him and grab something to eat. I’m starving.” He pounded again.

“Would you stop that? Can you imagine if the habbies pounded on our door like that? How would you greet them?” I watched the doorknob turn slowly and pushed fire out of my hands. “We should be prepared, at least.”

“La La, I don’t think that’s a good—”

The door opened. I increased my fire and jumped into the doorway with my hands enflamed. A little boy’s smudged face appeared. He looked at my flaming hands and screamed.

“No, wait,” I said, as the boy raced back into the apartment. “We won’t hurt you.”

The boy dove under a bed at the edge of the studio apartment. MeShack edged to my side and laughed.

“Maybe we should prepare.” MeShack imitated me in a high voice. “I think he just pissed on himself. Get a towel or something.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” I muttered, letting the flames evaporate from my hands.

“Little guy. We won’t hurt you. We thought you were a bad guy, but you’re a good guy, like us.” MeShack took out a honeycomb lollipop that he kept in his pocket, to stop him from smoking cigarettes. “Towel, La La?”

“It’s coming.” I stepped over several plastic Lucky Burger toys.

MeShack dragged the trembling boy out from under the bed. The studio apartment was empty besides us and the boy. No other family members were here, unless they were also under the bed.

Seeing a door, I pushed it open.

It squeaked. The scent of mold mixed with feces singed my nostril hairs. I shielded my nose from the foul odor and wandered in. A ripped shower curtain hung from a rod with dry dirt and pubic hair clinging to it. Soap plastered in gold makeup and dirt floated in murky water in the sink. Several towels were wrapped around a leaking toilet full of feces. Gagging, I leaped back, ready to get out of there.

“A clean washcloth, too,” MeShack said from the other room.

“Would you like fresh lobster with that?” I asked.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I left the bathroom and turned to the boy. “Where are your towels?”

He held the honeycomb lollipop in his hand, but still looked with wide eyes at MeShack. A tiny shaking finger pointed to a pile of clothes near a
TV
coated in dust. I headed in that direction, stumbling over high heels, and then searched through the mountain of gold-sequined tops and multicolored G-strings until I found a towel, a pair of Captain Habitat underwear, and jeans. I brought the stuff to MeShack.

“What’s your name?” I focused on the boy.

“Ben,” he whispered, lips quivering, eyes going left to me then right to MeShack. “Do you know my mommy?”

I cleared my throat as MeShack wiped Ben’s legs with the towel. I was shocked Ben had let MeShack touch him and wondered what I would have done at his age. I had no control of my fire back then. I probably would have spontaneously combusted.

We hadn’t counted on Carmen’s kid being alone. I didn’t know what to say, so I remained quiet as Ben watched MeShack’s every move.

Ben’s eyes reminded me of a visiting professor who’d come from the Shinto Habitat in Japan. The upper eyelids folded over the corner of his eyes and made them appear narrow, like slanted almonds. Black strands of hair fell around his X brand.

I sat down next to him, trying to get a closer look without scaring him. Ben moved a few inches away. In that moment, I noticed his right hand held a butter knife, his tiny fingers gripping it as if he were holding a sharp sword. He must have grabbed it before opening the door.

Smart.
The type of wisdom you got from hanging out in the streets by yourself.

“We won’t hurt you,” I said, while MeShack finished wiping away urine and tossed the Captain Habitat underwear to Ben.

He brought the knife in front of him. “Can you turn around?”

MeShack nodded, backed up, and faced the other way. I followed and heard material rustling behind me.

“I love Captain Habitat, too.” I raised my hand to display my watch. “Did you see the episode when the Evil Professor Kensington made the Galk virus, and Captain Habitat used his mega motion powers to shatter all the vials holding the virus?”

Silence hung in the air.

“I’m done,” Ben mumbled.

I glanced over my shoulder and spotted him wrestling with the plastic wrapper on the honeycomb lollipop.

“Can I help?” I asked.

He nodded, holding it out but maintaining a distance between us. MeShack stood up with the urine-drenched clothes and threw them in the sink. As I took hold of the lollipop, Ben unintentionally scratched me. His nails must have been three inches long and were caked with dirt.

“What other cartoons do you like?” I asked.

He put two more feet between us and remained silent, forcing me to sling the unwrapped candy toward him.

So what now?
I spied MeShack investigating a trashcan stuffed with takeout bags and candy wrappers. His eyes shifted to feline. I cleared my throat.

“You know my mommy?” Ben asked again.

I reluctantly shook my head, unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. This was a bad idea.

“I kind of know your mom.” I scanned the empty walls and shelves, searching for family pictures, anything that could give me insight into Carmen’s relatives. “Where’s your father?”

“Mommy said my daddy’s at Gone Amo Bay,” Ben said.

I observed he was missing two front teeth on the bottom row.

“Gone Amo Bay? Are you sure that’s the name?” I thought of the bays that I’d heard about in Geography class. Maybe he meant Guantanamo Bay. I blew out air. Only Supes waiting on death row lived in Guantanamo Bay’s cages. There’d be no reason to contact his father. The wait time for death row was barely twenty-four hours.

“Where are your grandparents, aunts, or cousins?”

Ben shrugged, sticking the honeycomb into his mouth.

“You don’t know where they are?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Nope.” Ben stared at MeShack. “Mommy says it’s just me and her.”

“What about a family friend that comes by to visit you and your mommy?”

Ben gripped the knife in his other hand so hard, white formed in the tan skin around his knuckles. “Are you with Better Families?”

“No.” MeShack approached us. Solid gold glowed around his black pupils. Claws pierced his fingertips. He was losing control of his Human form, and I didn’t know why. I stood up and got in front of MeShack.

“Ben.” I bit my bottom lip, avoiding his eyes. “Your mom is sick, so she asked us to come by and check on you.”

“How old are you?” MeShack asked from behind me.

“Seven.”

“Did your mommy have friends or anybody that came by?” I asked.

Ben looked from me to MeShack and then shrugged his shoulders. “Mommy said her friend Larry didn’t like kids, but that she would work on him.”

MeShack snorted. I turned around and mouthed the words
be quiet.

“Did she spend a lot of time with Larry?” I focused my attention back on Ben.

“Is my mommy going to get better?”

“We think so. She’s in the hospital right now. Sometimes we work there and that’s how we met her,” MeShack said.

I forced myself not to curse out loud. This was going downhill. No adults and too many lies.
What have I gotten us into?

“Does your mom leave you alone a lot, or is a babysitter coming?” I combed my fingers through my locks, knowing the answer before he said it. The neglect was obvious. My stomach twisted into knots.

“Sometimes my mommy comes at night,” Ben said. “And brings me a Lucky burger with a toy inside.”

A small growl came from behind me. I turned to MeShack, mouthed the words
calm down,
and turned back to Ben, who was now shaking.

“Sorry, I’m just hungry. I always growl when I’m hungry,” MeShack said. “So the Lucky burger is the only time you eat?”

“You’re not with Better Families?” Ben’s olive face tinged with shades of red. “I’m not supposed to talk to them.”

“No, we’re not social services, little guy,” MeShack said. “We’re just friends of your mom. Trust us. We haven’t tried to hurt you, right? And we won’t.”

Ben leaned back on the wall, relaxing his shoulders and sucking on the candy.

Surely, karma will come back to bite us deeply in our asses. What will we do about the lies?
I spied a gold pocketbook in the corner of the room and went to check it out.

“I get pizza at lunch,” Ben explained. “But sometimes Mommy can’t come back for lunch, and then I get an extra Lucky toy at night. I got a lot of them.”

“That’s really cool. La La, I want to talk to you in the hallway for a minute.” MeShack headed to the door. “Ben, we’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” I searched the pocketbook and only found a glass smoking pipe, some maxi pads, and condoms.

And then it hit me. No wonder Ben didn’t find MeShack’s and my rummaging around his home strange; his mom was a drug addict. Strangers coming in and out tended to be the norm when your parent was hooked on drugs.

“Now!” MeShack’s voice boomed into the apartment and made the walls shake. The lollipop fell out of Ben’s mouth and landed onto the floor.

“Sorry. He’s really hungry.” I jogged out of the apartment.

“We’re taking him with us,” MeShack said before I could close the door. My mouth dropped open. Before I could say something, he brought his hand up as if he was stopping heavy traffic.

“We take him to Social Services and they’ll throw him in a Mixie orphanage where he’ll be sold for blood or even worse.” MeShack paced in the hallway.

“Okay. But we can consider
MFE
or look for more relatives.”

“He leaves with us now. Period.” MeShack pounded his fist against the wall.

“Okay. Calm down,” I said. “Do you really think we can take care of him? We’re barely taking care of ourselves.”

“You think we can do worse than his fucking mother? She fed him once a day and he’s dirty,” MeShack whispered. “He didn’t even think it was weird that she hadn’t been home yet.”

“I understand.” I put my hands inside my pockets. “I’m just saying we should consider the amount of responsibility. He’s not a Pixie. We can barely take care of ourselves or pay the rent on time each month.”

“If she was alive, I would kill her myself.”

“Stop it.” I glanced back at the apartment, hoping Ben hadn’t heard him. “How are we going to tell Ben about his mom? Eventually, he’s going to want to go to the hospital.”

“Let’s deal with that later. Right now, we need to get him clean and fed.”

“Maybe,” I said, “we can do something temporary until we find some Supe that—”

“No,” MeShack hissed.

“Calm down.” I pointed at the closed door. “He can probably hear you, and if you go back in there like this, you’re going to scare him.”

MeShack stood for a few seconds and breathed in and out. Water appeared near the corners of his eyes. He turned his face away from me.