I Will Save You (26 page)

I nodded.

“You sure?”

I nodded again, cleared my throat. “Could you not tell Mr. Red, though?”

“About what?” she said. “You and I were just talking. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

“Thanks, Maria.”

My heart was slowing its beating.

She opened her car door and put one foot inside and looked back at me. “I’m gonna see you in a couple days, okay? For that fish thing Red gets so excited about.”

“The grunion,” I said.

“Yeah, that. I’ll probably be a little late. It’s my sister’s birthday. But I promise I’ll be there. Eventually.”

She winked at me and smiled ’cause she said her word again. Then we both waved and I watched her get the rest of the way in her car and close her door and pull out of the Los Olas parking lot while I wiped my face on my shirt.

Soon as we got back
to the campsites I left Olivia and Mr. Red and went searching for Devon. My talk with Maria made me think I needed to find him as soon as possible.

I hurried down the stairs to the beach, looked along the shore all the way up to where the college kids used to hang out, near Olivia’s lifeguard tower.

I went across the street from the campsites, to the train tracks. I went to the park, the grocery store, the gas station, under the freeway bridge.

But Devon wasn’t at any of his regular places.

I stood in front of the gas station trying to think if there was another place to look. His throat slash kept playing in my mind, over and over. And Maria’s words about being human. And my lies to her. And Olivia’s face without her hat. I knew I could make everything better if I just found Devon.

On my walk back to the campsites I decided to ask Mr. Red for help. Even if I had to tell him everything about Devon’s threats. Maybe we could go looking in his Bronco.

As I was cutting through the campsites I passed Olivia and Jasmine and Blue, who were talking outside Campsite Coffee even though it was closed.

My whole mind was on Devon, so I hoped I could just slip by without anybody noticing. But Olivia stood up and said: “Kidd.”

I stopped.

She was wearing her ski cap again.

I looked around for Devon as she walked toward me, even though I knew he wouldn’t be here.

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner,” she said. “I totally loved your friend Maria.”

“She thinks you’re beautiful,” I said.

“Really?” Olivia looked back at her girls. “That’s so sweet. What’s Red waiting for? They seem so great together.”

“I know.”

“O, we going?” Blue called from the front of the shop.

“Hang on,” Olivia called back.

She turned to me. “We’re about to walk the beach, but I wanted to talk to you about something.”

The bad stomach feeling I had with Maria came right back. “What is it?” I said.

“I don’t know,” she said, looking at the ground.

My heart started going fast again.

My legs felt heavy.

“I keep thinking about this stalker guy you told me about. You were looking for him on the beach today, weren’t you?”

“Not really,” I said.

She looked back at her girls. “Maybe we should wait to talk until I get back.” She glanced at her watch. “Can we meet at your tent in like an hour?”

I nodded. Her watch said it was almost ten.

She didn’t hug me or wave before she went back. I tried to think if it was ’cause she knew I was looking down the beach for Devon, or ’cause Blue and Jasmine were behind us.

Me and Mr. Red’s Talk

When I got to Mr. Red’s tent I found Peanut sitting by the railroad tie waiting for me, which seemed weird.

I tapped on Mr. Red’s tent door.

No answer.

Peanut stood up and barked.

“What’s going on?” I told him.

He started walking away, looking over his shoulder like he wanted me to follow.

We ended up at Mr. Red’s favorite place to check out waves. I ducked under the bushes after Peanut, and there was Mr. Red, sitting alone in one of his chairs, holding a glass up to his lips.

He saw me and Peanut and stayed frozen like that for a few seconds, just staring.

Then he tilted his glass and drank.

I looked at the bottle in his other hand and instantly knew it was alcohol.

“Busted,” he said.

“What are you drinking?” I said.

“Finest whiskey a man can buy for fifteen bucks.” He raised his glass like he was toasting me. “Tastes like piss.” He was slurring his words and his eyes were drooping and his whole body was sort of leaning to the side.

“You okay, Mr. Red?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Why do you still call me ‘Mr.’? Jesus, I’ve never understood that. Aren’t we friends by now?”

I opened my mouth to say we were, but he waved me off and pointed at his other chair, still folded up and stashed in the bushes. “Pull that bad boy over here,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

I grabbed it, thinking how everybody wanted to talk to me, and how I always assumed it’d be about something bad.

I sat down across from him.

Peanut came near my feet, his tongue going, eyes switching between me and Mr. Red.

“Ever wonder what this old guy’s thinking?” Mr. Red slurred.

I shrugged, told him: “I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t.” He took the last sip out of his glass and filled it back up. “And don’t be asking me to pour you a glass, either, Kidd. I refuse to serve minors.”

“I don’t want any.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” he said.

I watched him take another long drink and then turn to the ocean. You couldn’t see the big waves in the dark, but you could hear them. The thunder sound of water crashing on water.

Mr. Red was drunk ’cause of his son. I knew that. But I kept trying to think why I felt so guilty about it. Like the whole thing was my fault.

Peanut laid down but kept his eyes open.

Like he wanted to watch over our talk.

It was quiet for a couple minutes, except the ocean. Then Mr. Red took off his old sombrero, put it on his knee and ran a hand through his floppy blond hair. “Jesus, big guy, I’m drunker than hell.”

“Should you stop?”

“Of course I should stop.”

He poured another glass and took a sip and looked at me for a while, shaking his head. “He was just doing a couple tricks on his skateboard, big guy. Him and his knucklehead buddies. At the mall.”

“Who?” I asked.

But I knew.

“Was trying to ollie down some stairs. Like he had a couple hundred times before. This time he slipped, though. Bumped his head on the cement.” Mr. Red downed the rest of his drink. “According to his buddies it didn’t even seem that bad. They all laughed it off and kept skating. Including Ben.”

I stared at Mr. Red’s beat-up sombrero, trying to imagine having your son die.

I pictured my mom’s letter.

The corner peeking out from under my pillow.

“I felt the little bump on his head when he got home. Told him to shake it off. Tossed a bottle of aspirin in his lap. We ordered pizza and watched a baseball game on TV. Then we went to bed.”

Mr. Red’s glass was balanced crooked on his knee.

Some of his whiskey was dribbling out.

“Went to his room the next morning. His mom was on her way over. But I couldn’t wake him up. Grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Called his name, over and over. Ben. Come on, buddy, you gotta get up. Mom’s gonna be pissed. But I couldn’t get him up.”

Mr. Red’s glass slipped from his hand and fell to the dirt.

Peanut lifted his head.

The three of us stared at the fallen glass.

Mr. Red took a swig straight from his bottle, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He smiled at me.

I felt so sad for him and his son. It didn’t seem fair that someone like Mr. Red’s kid was gone, and someone with problems like me was still here.

Right then Mr. Red’s Bob Marley song started playing on his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at who it was, and put it back.

“Wanna hear the crazy thing about this life?” he said.

I nodded.

“You can be here one minute, talking like me and you, watching the Padres, and then you’re gone.”

He snapped his fingers. “Takes two seconds, Kidd.”

Even though Mr. Red was smiling, there were tears in his eyes.

“All this stuff we do every day,” he said. “All we think. It’s hanging on by a thread.”

I looked at the ground, picturing a kid who looked like Mr. Red falling off a skateboard. Picturing Olivia’s face mark. Devon’s gun against his own head. My dad punching my mom. Pushing me against a wall. Me caught in the ocean current.

Even though Mr. Red was drunk, I knew he was exactly right. We could all die in two seconds. With barely anything.

Why wasn’t anybody watching over us? I thought.

Why wasn’t someone making sure?

Then I considered my old philosophy, the one I thought back at Horizons. Nothing mattered. And nothing was worth it. And no one cared. I instantly felt my old sinking feeling.

I wiped my face on my shirt.

When I looked up, Mr. Red’s eyes were closed and his entire body was leaning way to the side.

I hopped out of my chair and straightened him, the whiskey bottle slipping from his fingers and falling to the ground. Most of it spilling in the dirt.

Peanut barked and barked.

Until Mr. Red opened his eyes and looked at Peanut.

Then he looked at me and said: “How’d you get over here so fast?”

He chuckled under his breath and slouched back in his chair, his eyes closing again. “Hey, Kidd,” he said, his face losing its smile. “I always wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay,” I said, putting his bottle straight.

“It’s a serious question, though. Can you handle serious?”

“Yeah,” I said, turning his wrist so I could see his watch. It was already after eleven. I was late to meet Olivia.

“You know when I had a meeting with those supervisors last summer? Your Horizons people …”

I looked over my shoulder, thought if I should hurry and meet Olivia and then come back or if I should keep listening to Mr. Red’s slurred words.

Peanut stood up, watching me.

“I wore a tie,” he said. “You picture that? Me in a tie?”

“Mr. Red,” I said. “Can you wait here a minute?”

“I can wait here forever, bud.” He laughed and said: “Nowhere else to go.”

I told Peanut to stay and ducked through the brush and ran to my tent.

Olivia was already standing there, waiting.

“Kidd,” she said, soon as she saw me.

I went right up to her. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I just got here.” She took both my hands and looked in my eyes. “Listen, I realized something on my walk.”

“What?” I said.

She squeezed my hands and let them go. “You genuinely care about me.”

I nodded.

“Probably more than anybody besides my parents. So this all comes from a good place, I know. But can we agree on something?”

“Okay,” I said, getting ready for something bad.

“Can we please not talk about anyone following me?”

I looked back at her, said: “It’s just, I want you to be safe—”

“I’m fine, though,” she interrupted. She reached up and shook me by the shoulders. “Don’t you see that?”

I nodded.

She let go, said: “Honestly? You’re starting to scare me. And I don’t want to be scared at the campsites. I’ve been coming here since I was a little girl.”

I didn’t say anything back. Olivia just didn’t understand. She’d lived her whole life in safe places. But I knew about the string Mr. Red said was holding things together. And how easily it could break. And I didn’t want that to happen to hers.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” I said.

She patted my arm.

“I have to go help someone,” I said. “Can I just see you tomorrow?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, too—Wait, who do you have to help?”

“Mr. Red. He fell asleep in his beach chair.”

“Need help?”

I looked at Olivia, wondering if Mr. Red would want anybody else to see him drunk.

Before I could tell Olivia no thanks, she said: “Lead the way.”

I turned and started toward Mr. Red’s secret spot on the cliff, listening to the sound of Olivia’s footsteps behind me.

Mr. Red’s Question

When we got to Mr. Red, his head was leaning
way
to the side, almost touching his sombrero, which was upside down in the dirt. His whiskey bottle was back in his hand, too, even though it was empty.

His phone played the Bob Marley song again, and Peanut stood beside him, nosing his leg.

Me and Olivia rushed over and sat Mr. Red up straight.

“Oh, my God,” Olivia said. “Is he totally wasted?”

“I think he’s just tired,” I said, thinking Mr. Red wouldn’t want anybody to know.

“No, look.” She pointed at the whiskey bottle.

“Oh, yeah,” I told her. I shook his arm and said: “Mr. Red. Wake up.”

He didn’t wake up.

I automatically thought of his son and shook him harder. And said his name again.

Olivia grabbed his phone off his lap, just as it stopped ringing, looked at the caller ID. “Who’s Bill the Deacon?” she said.

“Mr. Red’s friend.”

She put the phone back down, and right away it started ringing again. I picked it up this time and shook Mr. Red, but he still didn’t answer.

“He’s passed out,” Olivia said.

I flipped open the phone and said: “Hello?”

“Red?” a deep voice said. “Where’s Red?”

“He drank alcohol,” I said.

There was a short pause and then the voice said: “Goddamn it! Okay, lemme speak with him. Is he there?”

“He’s here, but he’s passed out.”

“Who is it?” Olivia said.

“Where’s ‘here’?” the voice said.

“The campsites. In Cardiff.”

“Be there in fifteen,” he said. And then he hung up.

“Who was it?” Olivia said again.

“This guy who’s part of Mr. Red’s alcohol program.”

“Oh.” Olivia looked back down at Mr. Red. “Do you think this is because of his son’s birthday?”

“Here,” I said, putting his sombrero back on his head. “We should carry him to his tent.”