Orion Cross My Sky (2 page)

A
t the end
of Grizzly Lane, beside an empty lot thick with trees and brush, stood the house Orion’s father had built with his own two hands. Orion had been brought into the world on his parents’ queen-size mattress, the midwives gathered round, the doctor present to handle the delivery.

He had emerged shrieking. He still screamed, but now his screams were silent, his complaints often ignored. His mother was too preoccupied with her own pain to pay any attention to her son. And his father was too busy trying to help his wife. Neither of them noticed him.

He slipped out, overhearing part of his parents’ conversation on the way to the front door.

“Marie…why…why didn’t you buy groceries? I come home and all I find is beer.”

“Lay off, Alvin. Just…”

The door shut softly behind him, his father’s words echoing in his head.
I come home and all I find is beer
. It was a constant struggle as Alvin tried day after day to get his wife to realize she was drinking herself to death.

Orion had grown sick of it. His father was just as bad as his mother, only in a different way. He didn’t drink, but he still had problems, and Marie was like a vortex sucking him into the void.

He slipped on his ragged jean jacket and tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walked toward the main road. He’d recently graduated high school, more or less a miracle, but he remained close friends with Zane Johnson, who was still attending Clearwater School and in tenth grade for the second time.

Zane had invited Orion to hang out with some of his buddies at Express Ohh’s for a drink, and Orion was grateful for the reprieve. Any excuse to get out of the house and away from his parents.

As he rounded the corner, the sun shone in his eyes and he squinted.

He saw the patrol car move down the street, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the pick-up truck barrel across the intersection and slam into the police vehicle almost head-on. Tugging his hands from his pockets, he cursed, then spotted Zane on the other side of the street.

Sirens blared after a moment or so, and Sheriff Ryder climbed out of the car, rushing to the passenger side. He had somebody with him, and as he tugged the bowed figure out of the seat, Orion recognized Old Bruce.

“Damn it all ta hell,” Bruce was saying, brandishing his gnarled cane in the air as Sheriff Ryder tried to calm him. Meanwhile, the engine of the patrol car smoked, and a large man lumbered out of the cab of the truck.

Orion skirted around the traffic that was building up, some people driving around the scene of the accident, and ran across the road toward Zane. Before he could reach his friend, he came across a diminutive girl, the breeze whipping her light brown hair around her face. She glanced at him, her eyes a captivating crystal blue, before she looked back at the accident.

“You all right?” he asked. She seemed as if she were in some sort of shock, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Mm-hm.” She nodded, her head moving up and down rapidly, reminding him of a bobble-head doll. He wasn’t sure, but she seemed increasingly uncomfortable the more he stood beside her.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Zane walked toward them, his large, muscular frame carried by thick legs and Timberland boots.

“Hey, man, whussup?” He nodded to the young woman, whose eyes seemed to widen with something like panic. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she said.

Several yards ahead, an ambulance had pulled up, and Old Bruce was still waving his cane, this time at the driver of the Ford. Orion opened his mouth to say something to the girl, maybe ask for her name, but before he could get a word out, she mumbled something incoherent and ran toward the wreckage, her hair and her windbreaker tousled by the breeze which was quickly becoming a chilling wind.

He watched as she stepped up to Old Bruce, placing her small hand on his narrow shoulder.

“What’s she doing?” Zane guffawed. “Somebody actually
talks
to Old Bruce?”

“I guess.” Orion watched as the girl said something to the old man, and he lowered his cane and nodded, listening as he ran his hand over his long beard.

Orion and Zane stood there for a long while, just watching. The girl eventually led Old Bruce over to a bench on the sidewalk, and he sat down, seeming content to get off his feet.

The excitement tapered off. Sheriff Ryder, looking especially dejected, waved traffic around the wreck as the deputy arrived.

Orion watched Deputy Sheppard talk to the man who’d driven the truck into the patrol car.

“Uh-huh. I thought so,” Orion said.

“What?” Zane asked.

“That guy’s drunk. Don’t you see?”

“Shit, yeah. He look familiar to you?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.” Zane shook his head. “But he looks a
little
familiar…I don’t know, maybe he’s been by Dad’s shop.”

“Nah, I don’t recognize that truck.” Orion had been working at Pete’s Service Center as a technician since before he’d graduated high school. If the Ford had been in the shop, he would remember it. He didn’t usually remember people, but he
always
remembered vehicles.

When he turned and glanced across the street, he saw Old Bruce still seated on the bench, but the girl had disappeared. Orion frowned, disappointed. She had intrigued him, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Zane, you coming?” He headed along the sidewalk, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jean jacket.

“Sure, man.” He glanced over his shoulder at the driver of the Ford, who stumbled while the deputy questioned him. “Damn, crazy shit.”

“Yep. Sure is.” But Orion’s mind lay elsewhere. He was still thinking of the girl who barely spoke and who’d rushed across the street to console Old Bruce.

Nobody talked to that ancient coot. Or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Orion began to see differently.

I guess Old Bruce has a friend in this world, after all. Whoever she is
.

T
ammy didn’t
like meeting new people. Clara had taken to it quickly, as if making up for all the years she’d been stuck at the Pendleton estate.
We were both locked away. Daddy thought it was better that way. Better for who?

Hidden from the rest of the world, Tammy and Clara had developed an unusually close bond. They were more like sisters than cousins. And Clara hardly had any family left, after her parents had been killed by a drugged-up shooter when she was little.

Through the front window, she spotted Clara laughing, and she realized it was one of the first times she was seeing her cousin in a natural setting, genuinely happy. Nervous, Tammy stepped into the café and went to the table where her cousin sat with five other kids, a few standing or leaning against the booth seats.

Clara patted the spot beside her in the booth. She was wearing one of the outfits Chloe Sheppard had given her when she’d worked at Winterbloom Bed and Breakfast—a lilac button-up blouse and blue jeans, her dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Amethyst jewelry hung from her ears and decorated her neck, a recent gift from her boyfriend, Gaven.

Slumping down on the seat beside her cousin, Tammy asked quietly, “Where’s your man?”

“He couldn’t come. He’s working until closing at the library.” Clara sipped her cappuccino, then said, “Oh, oh! Everybody, shush!”

The teenagers around them, who were joking and chuckling amongst themselves, glanced over at Clara.

“Listen, I want everybody to meet my shy little cousin, Tammy.” She began pointing out the people around them. “Tammy, that’s Lisa, A.J., Carlos, Tim, Eddie, and Nyla.”

Everyone said hello or nodded in greeting, while Tammy only curved forward like a turtle trying to sink into its shell. Then she leaned back, attempting to get comfortable as she tucked her hair behind her and clasped her hands in her lap.

The perky owner of Express Ohh’s, Jennifer Anderson, popped out from behind the front counter and approached the table, clad in jeans, a light blue blouse, and a mocha-colored apron.

“Need anything over here?”

Her smile revealed pearly white teeth, and her hazel eyes glimmered with natural energy. Tammy didn’t think this woman needed any coffee to wake her up. The positivity flowing from her felt contagious, and she couldn’t help but relax a bit in her presence.

Clara took Tammy’s hand and said, “What would ya like,
cuz?
It’s on me.”

“Or it’s on her,
literally
,” A.J. commented. “Since
Klutzy Carlos
spilled his drink all over Clara last time we were here.”

The declaration caused an outburst of chattering, and everyone laughed.

Tammy’s eyes widened. She hadn’t heard that story.

“I’ll just have some tea. Green tea.” She glanced up at Jennifer, who waited patiently beside the table.

“Anything else, hon?”

“No, thanks.”

“You okay?” Clara squeezed her hand gently as Jennifer walked away.

“Yeah. I just…you know.”

Clara didn’t comment. She was well aware Tammy was having a harder time adjusting. In a way, Tammy envied her cousin. She’d had a loving mother and father who had doted on her as their only child. She’d had a father who read her stories at night. He didn’t touch her, didn’t hurt her the way Tammy’s father had.

But he was dead by the time Clara turned six, and so was her mother.

She gave up weighing who’d been dealt the worst hand. Either way, they were both damaged. Both hurting. Both comforted by the presence of the other. She squeezed Clara’s hand, grateful for the contact. When Jennifer brought her tea, she clutched the mug, reveling in its heat.

That’s when she glanced up and saw him walk in. The young man she’d met on the street. He was wiry, perhaps nineteen or twenty, and he wore a black t-shirt that read
Cummins Diesel
beneath a jean jacket that hung open. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his brown hair cut short. His almond-shaped, deep brown eyes focused on her, and the left corner of his mouth quirked upward. Tammy sensed heat rushing to her cheeks, and she wasn’t sure why.

“Hey.” He stepped up to the table, his taller, somewhat heavier companion in tow. He nodded directly to Tammy. “Saw you over there by the wreck.”

“Wreck?” Clara exclaimed, cutting off any introductions. “What wreck?”

“Some drunk crashed his truck into the sheriff’s patrol car,” he said. “When we were walkin’ away, I heard Sheriff Ryder sayin’ he was glad it wasn’t his SUV that was hit. At least the town will pay for the car.”

“It
was
a drunk,” Tammy murmured. She looked up at the speaker, meeting his stare. “I knew it.”

In that moment, an understanding passed between them.

He moved forward, and she noticed the stubble on his chin and the small scar on his left cheek. He held out his hand while the others burst into conversation, barely noticing the two of them. Tammy heard them talking about the sheriff and the accident, but she wasn’t listening to them. She accepted his handshake, and his skin felt all warm and calloused.

“I’m Orion. Orion Bennett.”

“I…I’m Tammy. Tammy Pendleton.” She nodded toward Clara. “That’s my cousin.”

“You don’t look like you fit into this crowd.”

“No, not really,” she admitted. “I don’t know anyone. I dropped out of high school. I’m going to get a GED.”

“That’s what I did.” Orion shrugged. “No biggie.” He took a step back, glancing to his right where his friend was talking to A.J., the kid whose black-rimmed glasses appeared too large for his narrow face.

They didn’t talk much for the short time Orion hung around. Instead, they continued exchanging glances, and the attention made her increasingly nervous. Orion had an intense stare, and he seemed focused on her, for some reason. He leaned against the booth, occasionally contributing to the conversation, but mostly just looking in her direction every so often.

Tammy squirmed, until he left with his friend, whom he’d introduced as Zane. She let out a heavy breath when he departed, and Clara looked at her as if wondering what was going on.

“Later,” she mumbled, not wanting to discuss it in public.

After a while, the rest of the kids meandered off, either to hang out elsewhere or go home to study. Tammy had marveled at the ease with which they’d interacted with each other. She’d never had the chance to make friends her own age, cooped up in her father’s house.

Now that she was out and among civilization, even a little town like Clearwater seemed like a city to her. Sometimes, it was too much to take in, simply because she wasn’t accustomed to it.

When she left with Clara, they walked in silence for a little while, headed back to their apartment on Grizzly Lane.

Finally, Clara seemed unable to contain herself. “Okay, tell me about the guy.”

“Who?”

“The one you were talking to. I know of him, but since he’s not in school—Orion
something?
”

“Orion Bennett,” she clarified. When Clara only smirked at her, she added, “What?”

“You didn’t forget his name, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, come on.” She felt her cheeks heat. “Anyway, what would anyone want with me?”

Deep sadness flickered across Clara’s watery eyes.

“That’s where you’re wrong, beautiful,” she said softly, putting her arm around her. “Thanks for coming out. It means a lot to me.” Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“I’ll get used to it.” Tammy tucked her hands into the pockets of her windbreaker. “Eventually, I will.”

“I know, Tam.” Clara took her hand as they walked the rest of the way. “I know you’ll be just fine.”

She hoped that was true. Sometimes, she believed it, and other times, she didn’t. No matter what, it was a process. Something she had to do. And she wanted to do more than just survive. She’d been surviving all of her eighteen years.

Now, she wanted to
live
.