Stork (25 page)

I couldn’t help myself. “I’m nobody’s definition of an angel.”

“You may be mine,” he said. His fingers trailed over my earlobe and then down the tendrils of my hair. “How’re you doing?” he asked. “Am I freaking you out?”

“Fine. And yes.”

He laughed and then leaned in and kissed my neck. It was our second kiss. Yes, I was counting. And no, I didn’t want it on the neck. “Do you want to hear more?”

“We live, right? Because it’s not looking very good.”

He laughed again, and I knew in that instant it was a sound I wouldn’t want to live without. “We continued to sink. It was almost like floating. We held hands and gazed at each other intensely. You were so peaceful, so accepting, until I felt a calm come over me. My chest stopped hurting and we both stopped kicking and we were just kind of suspended there looking at each other.”

“And then what happened? Are you sure we live?”

“You closed your eyes and I thought you died. It was like dying myself. I felt hopeless and angry. And then you reached out your other hand, the one that wasn’t holding mine, and closed my lids. I reopened them, but you shook your head at me, all the while not opening your own eyes. Within a moment or two, I could hear something around us. Murmurs, or whispers. And then I didn’t need to close my eyes anymore, because something wrapped around them from behind: a leaf or cloth. I couldn’t tell what it was. I felt no pain and no fear, but I was aware of the passage of time. I knew we’d been under for a long time, too long. And then something encircled me, from under my arms, and we were gliding effortlessly and upward. We still held hands, and it was all that kept me from kicking to be free of whatever had taken hold. We came up in an entirely different section of the lake from where we’d gone down. That’s one of the mysteries of the event. No one knew where or how we’d surfaced. The rescuers were looking for us clear across the ice. You were frozen, wracked with chills. I managed to call and wave to someone. And then we were descended upon by a mob of people. They pulled you away from me. All I could think was that they had no right. And then you were gone. I was told I couldn’t see you in the hospital; you were too sick, in a coma. And then they took you back to LA, and all we ever heard was that you had some sort of trauma-induced amnesia.”

Jack stood and pulled me to a stand. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you? I just told you I heard whispers under the water, and that something pulled us up. You’re probably thinking I suffered some sort of brain damage that day.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Do you remember anything about our time under the water?”

“No. I remember skating, and falling through the ice, and the cold, but nothing more.”

“The lake is glacier-fed, but that only explains the depth and cold. The rest . . .” He looked at me for a long time. “Have I scared you? I pretty much bared my soul just now.”

I took a deep breath. Funny how just a week ago I’d never really given the concept of soul much thought. “I’m not scared.”

“What are you?” he asked tentatively.

I moved closer to him, burying my head under his chin. “Humbled. Incredibly grateful. Flattered. And what was that word you used?” I turned my face to his. “Oh yeah, I remember. Smitten.”

He kissed me then. And on the right place this time. And his touch was anything but cold. My lips were on fire. A surge of white-hot heat coursed through me. It seemed even the weather felt the charge of our emotions. Winds whipped around us. I could feel my hair lift and fall across my face and his. It didn’t matter. I could have stayed like that forever. I wanted to stay like that forever. He was the first to let go.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked.

How many days ago had Hulda asked me that same question? How much had happened since then? “Yes.”

“It’s hard to explain,” he said, “but from the moment I laid eyes on you skating, I felt this unshakable sense of fate, or destiny, or whatever you want to call it.”

“I know someone who calls it karma.”

“Karma it is, then.” He rested his chin on my head.

“Wow,” I said. “My head is spinning.” It was true. I could feel the gray matter orbiting behind my eye sockets, which explained my blurred vision and lightheadedness.

“There’s one more thing you should know about me.” He pulled me away and looked into my eyes. I flinched. It was pure reflex. I seriously didn’t know if I could handle anything else. Something shifted in his look; he hesitated, cleared his throat, and then said, “I’m partial to red. You don’t happen to have a red dress for the dance, do you?”

I wondered if it was really what he wanted to tell me. It didn’t seem to need that kind of build-up. Part of me was relieved, though. This I could handle. “Red?”

“Yes. And simple. Clothes don’t have to be all that complicated.”

“Red I can do. As for simple, I make no promises.”

He replied with a kind of half laugh, half groan and pushed me a few inches away from him. We stood face-to-face, with just a light wind rushing through the space between us.

“So we’re still going, then? To the dance?” I asked.

“Of course we’re going. You want to, don’t you?”

“So much has happened since you asked me, and you never mentioned it again, and then you were gone. I honestly didn’t know.”

“Now you know. And you, of all people, can depend on me.” He looked at his watch. “Almost lunchtime. We’d better head back. I’ve got to plead my case with Principal Henrich, and then with Coach Carter.”

I looked wistfully out to the lake. I knew that something momentous had happened here. Both five years ago and today. Our lives had been changed, our fates combined. And as much as I knew it was the beginning of a path together, I already felt a sort of melancholy for this place, this moment. I knew as we stood at the edge of that lake that there was no turning back. Jack and I were in it together, whatever
it
turned out to be.

It was so hard to go back to school and attempt anything that remotely resembled attendance. Jack’s words looped through my mind over and over. This guy, for whom my feelings had been increasing exponentially, had confessed an attraction to me, a commitment to me, which was nothing short of epic. I buzzed through what remained of the day like a drunken fool. Even a visit to the guidance counselor to discuss my unexcused absences for first through fourth period did nothing to dampen my mood.

Jack found me in the hallways between classes. I honestly don’t know if we elicited the same kind of stares and reactions. I saw nothing but him, heard nothing but him. After school he met me at my locker.

“I’m off to beg Coach Carter for forgiveness,” he said.

“What do you think he’ll do to you?”

“I definitely see a few penalty laps in my future, and I’ll probably be benched for tomorrow’s game.”

Pedro, accompanied by Penny, appeared at Jack’s side. “Dude, don’t even say it.”

Jack balled his shoulders forward. “Rules are rules. I’m prepared for the worst.”

“No way.” Pedro tugged on Jack’s arm. “Come on. You’d better be early today. And I’ll talk to Coach Carter myself if I have to.”

As Pedro pulled him away, Jack looked back at me pleadingly. I must have responded with a toothy grin.

“You’re all smiles,” Penny said.

“I can’t help it,” I said. “I’d sing if I could carry a tune.”

She giggled. “Told you he’d be back.” She tugged at my sleeve. “I like your outfit today. It suits you.”

“Thanks.” I looked down. The boots Jack had vandalized, Levi’s, one of my mom’s Nordic sweaters, and a Gap down vest. I remembered being on some sort of autopilot that morning. Fumbling around the laundry room for clean jeans and then fingering my mom’s pale yellow sweater and thinking it fit my mood.

“So, I guess you’re going to the dance. Good thing you had a backup plan for a dress.”

Yikes. A dress. I wondered how on earth I’d have time between now and Saturday to drive to a decent store. “Good thing,” I mumbled in return.

I pulled a notebook from the top shelf of the locker and stuffed it into my satchel. “My dad’s going to the game with me. You want to come with us?”

Penny scrunched her mouth to the side. “I should probably meet you there. My
amma
is still angry about those hats. You’d think they were the Crown Jewels the way she’s acting. And it’s weird, but she’s got it into her head that it was your idea to hide them. Why would she think that?”

I’d been thinking a lot about Grim. About how mad she’d been at my first Stork meeting when I’d been ushered into the second chair. Had I not arrived, would it have been hers? Had I spoiled her chances forever? Would she prefer me out of the way — for good? And what if she really had been at the scene of the truck accident? The only things that kept the bogey in my head at bay were Hulda’s faith in her and a constant memo-to-self that Grim was Penny’s grandmother and guardian, and a Stork, neither of which she’d jeopardize for anything. I hoped. Though it was not entirely lost on me that, besides
Raven,
the agent of death went by the nickname
Grim
Reaper. “Beats me,” I said. “Parents usually like me.”

“I guess I have been a little different since I met you,” Penny said. “A little more rebellious.”

Perfect
. Because the motive Grim had against me felt incomplete. Corrupter of her sole surviving progeny rounded things out nicely. “I never meant to get you in trouble.”

Penny waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t trade this last week for anything.”

Had it only been a week? Of course it had, but how was that possible? It felt as if the whole time-bending Stork phenomenon was compressing the days of the week and hours of the day even outside of council.

I closed my locker just as Wade and Monique passed by arm in arm. “Hi, Penny. Hi, Kat,” Monique said with a smile.

“So, I guess they’re back together,” I said.

Penny shook her head. “Can you believe it?”

“Somehow I can.”

“They’re like new people. Monique even spoke to me before PE today, asking me if I was going to the dance, what color my dress was, and, of course, if I’d remembered to vote for queen. Still, that wouldn’t have happened a week ago.”

“I guess a lot can happen in a week.” I thought just how crazy and true that was.

After school, I walked over to Afi’s. He went to take one of his power naps, so I tucked in behind the cash register. He left the book he was reading,
Moby-Dick,
on the counter. As a bookmark he had travel brochures to the Bahamas. One was for a deep-sea-fishing charter service out of Nassau. Lately, Afi had been talking a lot about missing the water. A lot for him, anyway. He’d spent the first nineteen years of his life in a small coastal village in Iceland and claimed it was seawater, not blood, that tinted his veins blue. Within a few minutes — and to my surprise — my dad came walking through the door. His collar was up, like he’d been pulling on it, and his hair was tousled, like he’d been tugging at it.

“I’ve been looking for you. You’re not going to believe what an extraordinary day I’ve had.” He paced in front of me distractedly.

“Why? What happened?”

“It’s crazy.”

“What?”

He threw his hands up. “I had a conference call with the investors today. They were very agitated. They’d heard about the earthquake out in Palmdale and wanted to pull the plug on the deal, then and there. They kept talking about omens and bad luck. And how the Japanese believe in signs and need a solid foundation. The whole thing was going to fall through because of a little tremor. I had to think quick. Two years of work and a lot of money was about to go south.”

“What did you do?”

“I told them about that crazy Hulda and her factory. It was the first thing that popped into my head. And you’re not going to believe it.”

At this point I figured even Ripley himself had nothing on me, but I tried my best to look curious. “Believe what?”

“They bought all that crazy stuff she said about karma turning the wheel, which they immediately interpreted as a wind turbine. And I knew the factory was on a bedrock foundation. How in the world had that even come up?”

“Hulda’s kind of funny like that.”

“There’s more,” he said. “When I told them the name of the factory was the Inga Paper Mill, they just about flipped.
Inga
is the Japanese word for fate or karma.”

Now, that I wasn’t expecting. “Wow!”

“I’ll say.” My dad ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it in spiky tufts. I didn’t know if I’d ever seen him this keyed up. “And now I’ve got to get hold of Hulda. I don’t even have a verbal agreement with her, never mind contract.”

“Hulda can be hard to pin down. She shows up in her store across the street from time to time, but besides that . . .” As I was saying this, I looked across Main to see none other than Hulda in the front window of her store. I sat there, mouth open, as I watched her place a square red-and-white For Sale sign in a front and center position. “You won’t believe this,” I said. “Even I don’t believe it. She’s there right now.”

My dad turned to follow my gaze. “Excellent. Let’s go talk to her.”