Soul Fire (17 page)

“It’s over.”

I sat bolt upright, wide awake. “Oh, Dell,” I whispered, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Walking back to my uncle’s.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“No, Ashla. It’s the middle of the night. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“I’ll see you in a few.”

“No, don’t, Ashla…”

I threw on my jeans, black hoodie, and sneakers, scribbled a note to my parents, and slipped out the back door. The night was dark, damp, and eerily quiet. I had never gone out at this hour, and now, by myself, I was nervous. My parents would croak if they knew, but I had to be with Dell. He had no one, absolutely no one now.

I weaved through the neighbors’ yards, barking dogs and all. When I emerged onto the street, I stayed in the shadows as much as possible and ducked out of sight each time I saw headlights approaching. I arrived at Dell' uncle’s house and found myself on a dark back porch. The door opened and he pulled me inside. One candle flickered on the kitchen table, casting slpashes of light across the dark walls. I tried to see his face, but he turned away, so I stepped in front of him. Even in the dark room, I could see the haunted look and imagined the agony he must feel. I put my arms around him and held him tight. He must have cried silently because tears trickled down my neck. I recalled what his neighbor had told me about his mom, about how Mrs. Anderson had tutored her and her children without charge, and how Dell's mother had dedicated her life to her son.

Why do terrible things happen to good people? Why did that poor woman have to suffer so all those years? It must have pained her to leave her only son behind. Her final words to me rang in my mind: “
Help my son
.” I had promised her that I would. Now, that weighed on me heavily.

“Is there a couch in the living room?” I whispered.

He nodded. I took his hand and pulled him into the next room where we collapsed onto the lumpy sofa. I squeezed into the corner and pulled him to me. He dropped his head on my shoulder and we stayed like that in complete darkness, without saying anything for hours. I knew he was reliving life with his mom. He had started the journey…the one that carries us reluctantly away when our loved one leaves us. It had happened to me the moment my beloved grandfather passed on.

It was dawn when I heard Dell hushed voice: “She suffered for years. I did what I could, but the disease ate her alive. She made me promise not to let her teachings go to waste. She wanted me to go to university.”

I nodded. “I hope you do. I hear you’re a smart guy.”

“They’ve got to find a cure for ALS. No person should have to suffer the way she did. I need to be part of that research. I want to go to medical school.” That was all he said, but I could feel his thoughts filling the room.

When I opened my eyes, the sun had flooded the living room and I knew we had slept. Gently, I slipped away from him, trying not to wake him, and went into the kitchen. I found juice, made coffee, and put a box of cereal on the table along with milk, bowls, and spoons. Nothing else looked appealing.

“Coffee smells good.”

I hadn’t heard him enter the room and turned, surprised. He was leaning against the kitchen doorjamb watching me. Even though he was my age, this morning he looked much older. His grief had already aged him, and he appeared drained. I took his hand. “Come on, sit down.”

I filled our bowls with Cheerios, added milk, and sat across from him. “Eat,” I said.

He looked up at me . . . a sad smile on his face. He was likely recalling the day he had given me the same order. His eyes never left mine. “Thanks for being here last night.”

I nodded and we fiddled with our cereal for a while. Then, I asked, “Did your mom tell you her last wishes?”

“She asked me to set her free. To send her ashes out to sea. It will probably be the end of next week.

“Would you like me to come?”

He nodded.

I tried a few spoonfuls of Cheerios and considered his unhappy situation. No matter how bad things became for me, it always seemed worse for him. Yet, he held his head up and carried on. A brave guy. So much courage. “What will you do, Dell?”

“I’ll be okay.” He toyed with the spoon. “It’s you I worry about.”

“Why? Why do you worry about me, I mean with everything that has been happening in
your
life?”

He shrugged. “I worry that Mako will retaliate against you when he and his friends don’t find me.”

“You think Mako would throw one of those—
whatevers—at
our house?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he’ll get off on some other form of violence instead. But is it worth the risk? Your family needs to take a long vacation.”

“I’ll never convince them to do that. Besides, Mom has her daycare obligation.”

“Find a way.”

I thought about that. It just wouldn’t happen. Even if they did fully appreciate the danger, they don’t run from things. It wasn’t their way. “What about you, Dell? You can’t go back to Mount Olympic. Want to join me at John Huntley?”

“I need to move on, Ashla.”

I fell back in my chair and stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“The insurance company wrote off our house. I deposited the check into Mom’s savings account a couple of weeks ago. She had it transferred into my education fund. I’m the only heir, so that money will pay for my education like she wanted, and take care of the bills while I go to school.”

I felt the loss of his friendship closing in around me. “Where will you go?”

“San Francisco. I’ll finish high school down there and then go on to the University of California.”

I was at a loss for words. My emotions were flying all over the map and I couldn’t figure out why his moving to California was hitting me so hard. I was happy to hear his plans for university, but I really didn’t want him to go so far away.

“You don’t look thrilled.”

“I suppose you picked UCSF because of their medical school.”

“That and lower fees for California residents.”

Now I understood, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

His expression grew tender. “Ashla, you’re in a bad place here. Come with me. Or at least give it some thought. I know you have a wonderful family that you’re close to, but you need a fresh start, a new look, and a new name.”

My thoughts whirled in my head. He was right, I did need a fresh start. I had a new look to draw on, but I didn’t tell him that. He was right about the name change too. I leaned forward and reached for his fingers. “Dell, I just found out that my dad has cancer. I can’t leave him.”

After a while he said, “I understand.”

Habits . . . schedules . . . who would have thought that those two important components of Ashla’s life, and my own, would facilitate what happened next.

It was a moonless, cool Monday evening. We had spent two strenuous hours at the same pool we’d gone to for years, practicing with a team of girls who continued to act as though Ashla and I were invisible. Afterward, Brenna, Tara, Ashla, and I piled into Kim’s van. As always, Kim pulled along the curb across the street from my house to drop Ashla and me. That side of the street is unlit, undeveloped, and overgrown with scrub, brush, and stunted trees. We said our goodbyes, stepped out of the van, and waited for Kim to pull away. In that split second, I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. That was the only warning I had that something was terribly wrong. There wasn’t even time to scream for help.

A gloved hand slammed over my mouth and I was lifted off the sidewalk, half carried, half dragged backward into the dark, damp overgrowth. I glimpsed another man doing the same thing to Ashla and knew instinctively that we were in serious trouble. I kicked out, twisted, turned, and pulled hard to get away. Pouring every ounce of strength into fighting him, I booted his legs with all my might and screamed at the top of my lungs, but his hand was suffocating. He kneed me in the stomach and I doubled over, my voice and breath gone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other man, dressed in black, and wearing a ski mask, drag Asha toward me. She was kicking and hitting for all she was worth. He slugged her and she went limp.

“Ashla!” I screamed, but a fist came up under my jaw. I fell back, stunned. Blood filled my mouth. We were deep in the brush, obscured by darkness. Our families were only a few hundred feet away, but they may as well have been across town. Somehow, we had to get ourselves out of this before things went too far.

A mask appeared in front of my face and again I smelled tobacco. A husky voice growled, “Where’s your friend, Delta?” The voice sounded familiar.

I tried to sit up. A boot flew out and struck my chest and I bounced off the ground. His next words swirled around my head. “Answer me! I have no patience for games.” It was Mako’s buddy, Crip!

The pain in my chest was excruciating. I couldn’t speak and could barely breathe. I feared for our lives. Somehow, we had to get out of this alive.

The other guy said: “Hey, this one’s coming around. Yo! Wake up. Pay attention. Ya hear? Either you tell us where your friend, Delta is or you’re going to wish you did. So, this is the deal: you and the Goddess want to walk again, start talkin’.” I recognized that voice too. He was a Tatantula…one of the worst of them. They called him Rapter. An apt nickname.

Two powerful hands reached down and grabbed me, throwing me to my feet. He shoved me over toward Ashla. She was on her back on the ground, Raptor’s boot was on her chest, pinning her.

A damp gloved hand wrapped itself around my neck and squeezed. “Take a good look at the Goddess, here,” he ordered Ashla. “You want her to be around tomorrow, you tell us where Delta is before we do something else you’ll be sorry for.” He squeezed hard and I gagged violently.

Fear pumped through my veins like ice water. Would our lives end right here, a few feet from our own homes? Was this it? No way! That was not going to happen! Suddenly, I was angry. We were not going to be taken out by two losers. Not without a fight.

In one quick move, I drove my knee into Crip's crotch. He doubled over with a yell and I sent my fingers up into his eye sockets. I was bumped from behind and whirled around, expecting to see the Raptor coming at me, but instead, I saw that Ashla was standing and he was on the ground.

“Go! Go!” she screamed. We dashed for the road, yelling, “Help! Help!” as loud as possible. Racing through the scrag, scrub, and brush without stopping, we were driven by sheer terror and the fear they were right behind us. We hit the sidewalk still screaming at the top of our lungs. My house was the closest. The front door flew open and my mother appeared. I yelled, “Call the police. Call 911. Hurry!”

It was a long night. Police, hospital, X-rays, questions, and more questions. Ashla and I could barely move by the time we left the hospital. Our bodies were swollen and screamed with pain, but we had no broken bones. We would heal, but that attack would haunt us for a long time. Perhaps forever.

My dad, being the pastor at our church, offered self defense courses a couple of times a year and made sure Ashla and I attended. We were grateful for them now.

We returned to my house. I was sitting on one couch with my parents and across from us, on the other couch, was Ashla and her parents. Deputy Shirley Mason paced menacingly between us. Her questioning was relentless. “So, you didn’t recognize those two men and you have no idea why they would jump you, drag you into the bushes, and beat you? Hmmn. Do you think it was a random attack?” She cast her eyes my way, expecting an answer. Ashla and I were wiped and she knew it. She was trying to wear us down. I looked across at Ashla who was giving me a very pointed look. Unfortunately, the Deputy saw it.

“Ah-h, I get it. There’s some big issue here that neither of you girls want to share.” She turned her back on us and walked out to the hall, her head bent, her index finger touching her upper lip thoughtfully. When she turned around, her eyes were on Ashla. “Just so you know, Miss Cameron, I woke up your principal who gave me your school counselor’s home number. Sue Latimer and I had a nice little midnight chat. So, My Dear, it’s like this. I know what has been going on at your school. I know about your past injuries, hospitalizations, the drug overdose, and the fact that you’ve changed schools.”

I watched Ashla for a reaction. She glanced at me and I saw defeat. She was going to tell whatever was needed to get Deputy Mason off our case. The minutes ticked by. All eyes were on Ashla. We waited.

But I was wrong. She said
nothing
.

The deputy’s eyes never left her face. “What are you afraid of?” she asked suspiciously. “Or maybe I should ask
who
you are afraid of?” She turned back to me. “Could it be those troublemakers from your school, by chance? I believe they call themselves, the Tarantulas.” When I said nothing, she looked back down at Ashla.

“Afraid of retaliation, perhaps? Think they’ll come after you again? Hmmn?” Ashla remained mute. The deputy looked at each one of us. “For crying out loud, somebody say something. You girls could’ve been killed tonight. You know that?” She paced some more before stopping in front of me. “For your information, Miss Celeste, we picked up two teenagers fitting the description you gave. They were hightailing it over toward Bellevue. We found two ski masks and two pair of gloves in the back seat of their car. My guess is, your DNA is on them. Both of these kids have a history of violence and are well known to us. Unfortunately, they are seventeen and therefore juveniles in the eyes of the law.”

“Meaning no charges will be laid,” my dad said pointedly.

“Not unless these girls identify them.”

Ashla finally spoke: “The two guys you picked up…are they Tarantulas?”

“You know it.”

Oh, we knew it all right. I sank back into the couch and closed my eyes.

My small flatscreen TV was on my desk with the volume low so I could concentrate on the last of my homework and finish it before Mole arrived. I was so focused on it, that I would have missed the news reporter saying,
“Green Forest Way”
had Mole not made a point of telling me where Ashla Cameron lived. My head jerked up and I hit the up volume button on the remote. The reporter was standing in front of a vacant lot.