Soul Fire (22 page)

“It was a good idea, though,” she whispered. “Might’ve worked if you didn’t hate me so much.”

I wasn’t going to let that pass. “I’ve never
hated
you. It was always clearly the other way around. I cannot remember you ever touching me, except in anger. A poke or a prod. I can’t think of ever hearing you offer a kind word to me. I grew up fearing you, never wanting to be anywhere near you. Given another choice, I would have stayed away, except . . . except that I loved Grampa so much!”

She was quiet. Actually quiet. Finally, she whispered, “I see.” And seemingly defeated, she ghosted from the room. Her hushed retreat stunned me.

Mom threw her hands in the air, “I give up. You’re right. It’s never going to work.”

I retreated to my room as well and threw myself on the bed. I was so angry I beat my pillow with my fists. It didn’t take long to cool off and I wondered who had won and who had lost that fight. I had finally told my grandmother off and should have felt elated, but instead I worried that I had been too harsh on her. I should have kept my mouth shut.

Absently, I opened my Mac, hit a couple of keys, and nasty webpage number one flew up. There were three now. I knew that by simply opening these rancid websites, never mind reading the latest vile remarks, I was torturing myself. Somehow, I kept hoping that one day I’d look and they would all be gone.

No fresh pictures had been posted, probably because I was no longer at school and within camera range, but cruel remarks still appeared. What kind of sickies spent their time posting this stuff anyway? My cheeks burned as I closed my laptop. I had to stop looking.
Had to
.

I went to my windowsill and rested my hip on the ledge. Looking up I saw that the night was clear. The dark sky glimmered with stars. When I was young, Dad would point to them and say, “They shine on all of us, no matter who we are, no matter how we look, no matter what we’ve done. They tell us to keep looking up and to never lose hope.”

As I drew on their light and their power, I realized this narrow ledge had been my rock. Here, I could peer out and gather perspective. When life was chaotic, I enjoyed looking past myself, to the beauty outside my window. It was always there for me, reminding me that there was much to live for.

Mom and Dad were right. Finishing school was a problem, but home schooling with my grandmother wasn’t the answer. Nor was finding another school.

Another problem. Justin. Somehow, I had to finish what I’d started with him. I had to find a way to keep working with him. But how could I do that when he viewed me as a fraud? Not only was I the source of his personal agony, but now I’d become a master of deception. He’d likely never let me near him again. So, what should I do now?

As I stared out past the evergreens, the moon rose above them, casting an eerie white light over the street and across the lawn. My father's words echoed across my thoughts: “The moon will be here after we’re gone. When you gaze at it, seeking answers, it reminds us to look outside ourselves and allow them to come from within.”

It was mid-afternoon. Bones and I were in the conservatory working through the day’s final school assignment when I lost concentration and my eyes fell on my class ring. Somehow, since learning of Ashla’s treatment at school, I no longer felt any allegiance with Mount Olympic High. In fact, I had no desire to go to the prom either. I slipped the ring from my finger and was looking at it thoughtfully when Mom walked in with Celeste. “A visitor, Son,” she said, looking from me to Celeste obviously trying to figure out why this gorgeous blonde had come to see me.

Hoping my shock wasn’t too visible, I staggered to my feet, smiled at Celeste, and said to Mom. “If you wouldn’t mind closing the door after you…” She caught the hint and left us alone.

I motioned Celeste to the chair across the table from me. “Like a soda or anything?” I asked, remembering my manners. She perched herself on the edge of the wooden chair and shook her head. I closed my text and placing my class ring on the table next to it, I pushed both away from me. She watched in silence.

We sat awkwardly for the first few minutes, me not quite knowing what to say and her saying nothing at all. I tried: “Nice to see you again. Especially outside of the pool.”

She smiled shyly but remained mute. I nudged Bones hoping he would sniff out our visitor and maybe warm things up, but he stayed where he was, sprawled at my feet. He never went near anyone who wasn’t totally relaxed or happy. Anything less made him wary. Meanwhile, getting this girl to speak was a challenge, so I cleared my throat and took another shot at it. “I haven’t forgotten the talk we had about Ashla,” I said, hoping to draw her out.

She nodded enthusiastically, so I must have nailed it. “Is that why you dropped by?”

She nodded again and I waited. The air conditioner cut in, but aside from that there wasn’t an audible sound in the vast glass-domed room. She fidgeted with her clutch purse and when she looked up at me, I could see fear in her eyes. Was she afraid of
me
?

“I…” She stammered.

“Yes?” I encouraged.

“I should have called…but I didn’t know if I’d actually make it to the door this time.”

“This time?”

“I came yesterday. Or tried to.”

“No kidding. What happened?”

“I got as far as the driveway.”

I pictured her out there, staring at our rambling house. “Then what?” As if I couldn’t guess.

She shrugged. “I left again.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it this time. So, why don’t we pick it up where we left off that day at McD’s.”

She nodded hesitantly and I worried she’d freeze up again, but she surprised me. “Exactly,” she began. “You offered to go the school.”

“I did. We were each going to give it some thought and put together a plan.”

She leaned forward eagerly. “Yes, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. Keep in mind that Ashla and her parents went to see Mr. Drake and Sue Latimer and got the brush off. As far as Drake was concerned, Ashla’s injuries were a result of simple accidents. He’s done nothing about any of this. I guess he thinks that denying it will cover their butts. I mean, we’ve not only got Ashla’s situation, but so many others. Look what happened to Delta. He can never go back to school after what he did for Ashla.”

My interest peaked. “Oh? What did he do?” My words sounded a little harsh.

“He took care of her when Mako dropped her with the rock. Of course Mako took that personally and now the Tarantulas have turned on Delta.”

I shifted in my chair. “Why would Delta do that? He had to know what would happen.”

“Everyone says he’s got it bad for Ashla.”

I bristled. “But he’s a Tarantula. Not exactly Ashla’s type.”

“Delta's not what he appears to others. He’s just a super smart, super cool dude who knows how to look after himself . . .and Ashla too, it seems. He was right there, helping her when she went down.”

I tried to keep the tone of my voice even. “Really,” I said. My voice held an audible edge. I hoped Celeste didn’t notice. “So, how does Ashla feel about this
super cool dude
? She like him?” Why was this choking me up?

Celeste half smiled. “They’re pretty close, that’s for sure, and Delta’s quite protective of her.”

“Humph.”

Celeste was frowning. Her nose wrinkled and then I saw a sparkle in her eyes. She said: “Anyway, back to Drake. We’ve got an uphill battle, Justin.”

I had to put all thought of Delta aside and shift gears back to the problem at hand or we wouldn’t get anywhere. “What did Drake say about the other stuff that was happening to Ashla—the name-calling, pushing, taunts, nasty tweets and websites? They were going after Ashla pretty hard. Add it all together and the picture’s pretty clear.”

“You know Drake,” she replied. “We might have more luck with Sue Latimer. From what Ashla told me, Sue looked kind of choked over Drake’s position. Anyway, that's it for me. Your turn.”

I picked up my pen and doodled thoughtfully on a scrap of paper. “I wasn’t so much thinking of me going to the school at this point. I'm considering something else. Up until my accident, my mom was on the PTO, you know, the Parent Group. She never worked outside our home, so she gave her time to various health organizations, the hospital, local charities, and our school.” I didn’t mention that I’d have to find a way to get Mom off the booze first. She wasn’t too bad in the morning, but by late afternoon, she was tanked. Hopefully, my plan would motivate her to stop drinking. “I was thinking of laying this whole issue on her and see what she can do with the PTO. They’re a powerful group. They might even get Drake’s head out of his…er, the ground.” I saved myself at the last second, remembering Celeste was a pastor’s daughter.

Celeste liked the idea. “You’re right! Great idea. My mom used to belong to the PTO as well. She quit a couple of years ago because she got tired of all the fund raising. But come to think of it, a little fund-raising right now could be just what’s needed. I know Mount Olympic is financially strapped. A few of the other schools have a dedicated Sheriff’s deputy on site, but our district has no money for that. I’ve heard that having a deputy dedicated to a school has been the single biggest deterrent, not only in stopping the violence, but as a hindrance to upcoming gangs like the Tarantulas.”

I nodded. “Good suggestion. I’ll ask my mother to look into that and to follow up on the fund raising for it.I reached for a piece of paper and scribbled a note for myself. "I’ve been thinking that parents out on the school grounds before and after class would help as well. It’s always been open season outside.” Bones repositioned himself and ended up wrapped around my left foot. I reached down and gave him a pat as I spoke, “I'm working on something I can do personally, but I need to do more with it before I throw it out there.”

Celeste nodded, and as we each mulled all this over, her eyes traveled around the hex-shaped room and up to the domed glass roof. “Wow. This is quite the room. Quite the house. Makes ours look pretty simple.”

“Simple sounds good,” I said, thinking of all the yelling that has gone on in ours lately.

She dropped her eyes back down and considered me. “There’s one more thing I want to talk to you about.”

I caught her drift. “Ashla.”

“Yes,” she replied softly. “You know that we’re like sisters, so when she’s in pain, I’m in pain. Ashla’s a really good person, Justin. She’s always thinking of others and helping those who have less than her. She cares . . .really cares about people. What I’m getting at is, she has beaten herself up on a daily basis for the skiing accident. She really worries about you and cares deeply for you. She wanted to make up for the accident by helping you. She would do anything to help you get better.” Celeste looked at me curiously, like a nurse taking my temperature to see how things were going. “I’m hoping you might find it in your heart to forgive her for the ‘
how
’ of what she did. Maybe just look at what it took for her to actually go to the pool with everything that was happening to her. I mean, she was there right after she got out of the hospital, concussion and all, against doctors orders. She never missed a session even with all the horrors going on at school. She even went the day after we were attacked. I don’t know how she did any of that.”

I stopped doodling and dropped the pencil. “I know.” I had already gone over all of this in my mind again and again. Ashla was one of a kind. It wasn’t just her unusual beauty that got to me, it was the person she was that I was now falling for. It had been a strange experience combining the Ashla of my dreams with the kind, good-hearted, lovely Janine. My thoughts returned to this dude, Delta and realized that I could lose her. That was troubling.

Celeste waited and when she saw that I wasn’t going to say more, she stood. “Well, we’ve made some good plans.”

I struggled to my feet and grabbed the cane. No more crutches. Things were looking up. Bones finally stood up, yawned, stretched, and eyed Celeste. “This is my buddy, Bones,” I said, introducing my faithful companion.

She called him over and whoosh, instant friendship. I said, “Let’s touch base again. Say, a week today. I’ll have a talk with my mom about all this and work out the other part of my plan.”

“Sounds good,” Celeste replied, as we walked toward the front door, Bones almost tripping her twice in his eagerness to scoff another pat or two from her.

When she was gone, I made my way down to the kitchen. Mom jumped when she saw me, picked up her glass of orange juice, and walked briskly over to the sink. I knew she was using orange juice to camouflage the vodka. She had changed dramatically in the past months. Her hair hung limply around her shoulders. She wore no makeup and her skin was parched and pale. She looked haggard. I felt a twang of worry.

“Lovely girl.” She said it slowly so she wouldn’t slur her words.

Reaching into the fridge for the orange juice, I poured myself a glass. “I’ll have mine plain,” I said pointedly.

She looked away, her hand shaking.

“Mom,” I said. “I want to talk to you about something important. I need your help. Will you sit with me for a few minutes?” Her face actually lit up. She tipped her drink into the sink, placed the glass on the sideboard, and then sat across from me, listening intently as I described everything about Ashla to her. We talked for over an hour and for the first time in months, I saw a sense of purpose in her eyes. And compassion.

She said, “Poor girl. I had no idea. But there’s just one problem with all this, Son.” Her words were clear now. “If your dad finds out what I’m doing, he’ll freak right out.”

As I drove up the long, winding drive toward the imposing three story stone house, I was reminded of how Mole’s family and their wealth had affected my friend’s life. As the only child of an older couple, he was raised by a long line of live-in nannies. His parents owned a second home in France and spent a good deal of time there, leaving Mole at home with a caretaker.

Mole and I had been friends since first grade, attending the same schools, hanging out together, and just doing the non-hockey stuff that my teammates found boring. Last year, after months of misery at Mount Olympic, being called Creep and Bug Eyes, getting pushed around, and being targeted for nasty pranks, his parents pulled him out and put him in private school. It seemed to suit him better, although he had not made any friends at the new school. As usual, I was the only one.