The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2) (9 page)

“Here, hold this against your
eye,” Winn said, handing Brent the bag.

“Peas?” Brent said.

“Just do it,” Winn insisted.
“It’ll help the swelling. Can you see out of that eye?”

Brent raised his head and looked
right at Winn, holding a hand over his right eye. “Yeah, I can see,” he said.

“Good, then you just need to get
the swelling to go down. Go on, put the peas on it.”

Brent lowered his head back down
and placed the bag on his face, letting it sit. As he raised his arm to place
the bag, his t-shirt rose up from his waist, and Winn saw the bruises on his
stomach. Brent’s father had hit him there, too.

“Does it feel any better?” Winn
asked.

“I can’t tell,” Brent said. “My
whole head hurts.”

“Well, leave it there for as long
as you can,” Winn said. “He really did a number on you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Brent said. “After he hit
me, I tried to swing at him, and I think it pissed him off even more.”

Winn closed his eyes. He
remembered once when he was eight, when one of his mother’s one-night-stands
had woken early and joined him in the dining room, trying to change the channel
from the cartoons Winn had been watching. He’d told the man to leave his TV
alone, and the man had backhanded him so hard he went flying into a cupboard.
Winn started screaming, and ran at the man, fists swinging. The noise of their
fight woke up his mother, and she came running out of the bedroom. When she saw
the blood on Winn’s lip she kicked the guy out of the trailer.

 
My mom may not be perfect,
Winn thought,
but she stands up for me. Brent doesn’t have anyone who stands
up for him.

Brent turned to his side again and
pulled his knees up, moaning.

“Still hurts?” Winn asked.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot,” Brent
replied.

“He hit you in the stomach, huh?”
Winn asked.

“Yeah,” Brent said. “When he did
that, I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die.”

Winn felt his own tears beginning
to form. Brent was his best friend, and he didn’t deserve all this pain. He
remembered the coin in his pocket. He reached in and pulled it out.

“Brent, here, I want you to try
something,” he said, coaxing Brent to roll back over toward him.

“What?” Brent asked, lifting the
bag of peas from his face.

“See how I’m holding this nickel?”
he said, showing Brent the coin pressed tightly between his thumb and finger.
He felt the pleasure beginning in his stomach, knowing it would play out the
next few seconds while he talked to Brent.

“I want you to hold it just like
this, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just because. It’ll help, trust
me. Give me your hand.”

Winn could see Brent was too weak
to argue, but he didn’t bother to raise his arm. Winn raised it for him, and
put the nickel into his hand.

“Don’t drop it!” he said,
positioning it between Brent’s thumb and index finger, putting pressure on them
to keep it wedged tightly between them. Then he removed his hand, waiting to
see if it worked for Brent.

There was a few seconds where
nothing happened, and Winn was afraid it wasn’t going to work. His arm was
raised and his fingers held the coin in the exact way Winn had positioned them,
but nothing seemed to be happening.

Then Brent rolled back to his
side. “I’m going to throw up!” he said, opening his mouth.

“No, you aren’t,” Winn said. “Just
wait. Keep holding it.”

Winn saw Brent’s arm start to
droop, so he reached up and held his hand, making sure his fingers stayed in
position around the coin. He felt a warmness radiating from Brent’s body. He
decided to drop into the River, and watch. The coin glowed just as he’d seen it
behave before, and he could detect the waves of pleasure and healing passing
through Brent’s body.

Just before he left the River, he
heard in his head:

One day.

He dropped out of the flow, and
waited until Brent rolled onto his back and looked at him.

“How did that feel?” Winn asked.

“Wow. What is it?”

“Something I found with, you know,
my abilities.”

Winn removed the coin from Brent’s
fingers and studied his face, expecting to see the swelling go down around his
eye. Nothing changed.

“Did it help?” Winn asked.

“Yeah, it felt great,” Brent said.
“All the pain is gone.”

“But it didn’t heal you...” Winn
said, thinking aloud.

“I don’t care,” Brent said,
closing his eyes. “It felt wonderful. I just want to sleep.”

Winn thought for a moment, and
then pulled his shirt up and over his head. He folded it into a small pillow,
and raised Brent’s head, placing the shirt under him.

“Sleep then,” Winn said. “I’ll
watch over you, make sure you don’t roll off.”

“Can I try it again?” Brent asked
sleepily.

“Sure,” Winn said, placing the
nickel back into Brent’s fingers. This time Brent didn’t roll over, he just
stayed on his back, and Winn watched as a smile slowly spread across his face
as the coin did its magic. He studied the black and blue discoloration of skin
around Brent’s eye. Within a few seconds, Brent was out, and his arm dropped,
releasing the nickel. Winn dove for it, trapping it on the platform under his
hand before it could roll off. He tucked it back into his pocket and laid down
on the wood next to Brent, raising his Walkman earphones to his head and
adjusting the volume.

He thought about McGraves, and
what the ghost had told him about Father Kino and the cave. He wondered if an
iron door might exist further back, past the narrow crack Brent had wanted to
explore. He could still see McGraves crawling on the ground toward him, pinning
him inside the pantry, and it made him shiver. He could see McGraves standing
up and removing the knife, blood pouring down. Then he imagined a swarm of
Z-flies, landing on his skin and sinking their centipede pinchers into his
skin, scraping his flesh for ghost blood like a vampire bat uses its teeth to
cut into a cow’s back.

Brent shifted next to him, and his
thoughts changed. He imagined the fight inside Brent’s trailer, his father
punching him in the gut and hitting him in the face. It must have been brutal
for Brent – and all because he wanted to join them on their excursion. Winn
felt the unfairness of it well up inside him, and he felt a sob escape him. He
reached down, grabbing Brent’s sleeping hand. He held it gently, listening to
the music, wishing Brent’s father would die, and that his own mother would find
someone decent to marry instead of the losers she brought home.

If I could sleep forever… I
could forget about everything…

He felt himself drifting off, the
music becoming fainter and fainter in his head. Within moments, he was as fast
asleep as Brent.

When Winn awoke he realized they’d
been asleep for a long time. He checked his watch, and saw that it was almost
six. They’d slept most of the afternoon away.

He shook Brent, who was still
sleeping on his back. Brent slowly opened his eyes and looked at Winn.

“Feeling any better?” Winn asked.

Brent tried to raise his head from
Winn’s shirt pillow, and winced. Winn saw the bag of peas lying next to Brent,
wet from condensation as it thawed. The swelling around Brent’s eyes still
looked pretty bad, and Winn realized that although the coin had helped Brent
with the pain, it hadn’t done much to heal him.
Maybe it only heals gifteds,
he thought.

“My head is pounding,” Brent said.

“Here,” Winn said, digging into
his pocket. “Try the nickel again.” He held it up for Brent to take, and Brent
slowly reached up and removed it from his fingers.

“I don’t feel anything,” Brent
said, the coin in his palm.

“You have to hold it like this,”
Winn said, demonstrating. Brent shifted the coin so that it was properly
positioned, and he began to shudder.

“Does that help?” Winn asked.

“It feels so good,” Brent said.
“All the pain is gone.” He handed the coin back.

Winn looked at the nickel in
Brent’s hand, extended to him. It was going to expire in a day, and what was he
going to do with it, anyway? Brent’s pain was going to come back; if anyone
needed it, it was Brent.

“Keep it,” Winn said. “Use it to
keep the pain down.”

“Really?” Brent asked, trying to
sit up.

“Sure,” Winn said. “You have to
set it down before you can use it again, otherwise it doesn’t work. And you
gotta promise not to show it to anyone else, especially your father.”

“I won’t show it to him,” Brent
said. “And I won’t use it in front of him.”

“Yeah, he might steal it from you
if you do,” Winn said. “When you’re alone, though, feel free to use it as much
as you want. It’s going to expire tomorrow, so you might as well get as much
out of it as you can.”

“Thanks, Winn,” Brent said, a weak
smile forming below his black and blue eye.

“We slept all afternoon,” Winn
said. “It’s almost six. If you don’t get home, your dad’s gonna wallop you
again.”

Brent slid the nickel into his
pocket. He rolled over and slid his legs to the edge of the platform and
lowered himself to the branch, then down to the trailer, landing a little hard.

“Shit, Winn, I’m sorry,” Brent
said. “I hope your mom didn’t hear that.”

“She didn’t, she’s gone for the
night,” Winn said, following Brent down. He felt bad that Brent was heading
home to the parent who beat him up. He would have liked nothing better than to
invite Brent into his trailer and spend the evening making sandwiches and
watching TV together, hiding from Brent’s father. He knew defying Brent’s
father that way would ultimately end in an even harsher result.

“Do you think your dad will let
you leave after dinner?” Winn asked.

“Maybe,” Brent said. “All depends
on his mood.”

“Well, I’ll just be hanging out at
home, watching TV. If you want to come over, feel free. But don’t sneak out on
my account and get yourself beat up again.”

“No, I won’t,” Brent said. “Thanks
for the nickel, Winn. Where did you find it?”

“I’ll tell you the whole story
tonight, if you come over. Get home before it’s six! You’ve got like two
minutes!”

Brent smiled again and took off
toward his trailer. Jeanette was out, and Winn could hear her questioning Brent
as he walked past her.

“Your asshole father make you walk
into a door?” she called.

Winn watched Brent ignore her and
run the rest of the way home.

▪
▪
▪

Winn spent the night alone with
the television, his CD Walkman, and a book he was reading. Brent never showed,
and Winn assumed it was because of his father. He turned in early and was woken
by the sound of his mother arriving home late. From the lack of continued
noise, he deduced she was alone, and he was grateful – it meant he could go
back to sleep right away, and wouldn’t have to deal with some jerk in the
morning.

As Sunday morning dawned, he tried
to sleep in but found he couldn’t. He felt anxious, and as soon as his feet hit
the ground it felt better, as though getting up and moving around would
alleviate his anxiety. He ate some cereal and watched more television, rapidly
becoming bored.

He knew visiting Brent would be
out until later in the day. They had a long church schedule every Sunday, and
Brent’s father didn’t allow any visitors or horseplay on Sunday morning.
Sometimes Brent was allowed out in the evening, but he’d just have to wait and
see.

He thought about visiting Gale and
seeing if he’d let him play PS2, then discounted the idea. He didn’t mind Gale
when Brent was around, but when it was just the two of them, Gale bothered him.
He considered Gale a little odd, and his mother was constantly checking in on
them, to see if they needed or wanted anything. He found it creepy.

He clicked off the TV and sat,
wondering what to do. Out of sheer boredom he let himself drop into the River
and he felt himself rising up and out of his body. He considered drifting back
to his mother’s bedroom to check on her, but she had told him in no uncertain
terms that he was never to spy on her, so he decided against it. Instead he let
himself drift toward the wall of the trailer, seeing if he could go through it.
As he approached it, his natural reaction was to stop – who walks into walls?
Marty had told him he could do it if he tried, but he’d been scared to be out
of sight of his physical body, as though he might lose his way back to it.

He reached out his hand and
pressed his fingers against the wall, but his fingers didn’t touch anything. He
saw them disappear inside the wood paneling. He felt a chill go down his spine,
and he pulled his hand back, checking his fingers. They were still there,
attached to the end of his hand.

He tried again, and allowed more
of himself to enter the wall. He felt himself clutching with his fingers,
unable to see them. He slid more of his arm into the wall, freaking out a
little at how he could move his arm around within the wall, and at how his arm
looked amputated, cut off as it entered the paneling.

Then he felt something grabbing on
his arm, pulling him. He tried to pull his arm back inside the trailer, but it
wouldn’t come.

Come on,
he heard.
Come
outside.

He relaxed a little – it was
Marty’s voice.

I saw your arm sticking out of
your trailer, thought I’d come over and see what you were up to!

I’m afraid to go through the
wall!
Winn thought.

Don’t be,
Marty replied.
Just
move forward. I’ll pull you through it.

Winn closed his eyes, not wanting
to see the wall approaching his face as he drifted toward it. He felt Marty
pulling on him, and then he stopped.

Open your eyes,
Marty said.

He opened them, and he was outside
the trailer, floating about three feet off the ground. Marty was holding his
hand.

I didn’t feel anything,
Winn said.

Of course,
Marty said.

Winn became concerned.
I want
to go back in, and check on my body,
he said.

You do that, but then come back
out, OK? On your own.

Winn nodded. He dropped Marty’s
hand and moved back toward the trailer, closing his eyes as his face approached
the aluminum siding. He opened them again once he figured he’d cleared the
wall, and saw himself sitting on the couch, his head back as though he was
asleep.

As many times as he’d done this,
it always bothered him to see his body in this state. He feared he was dead. He
reentered his body by dropping out of the River, and felt himself lifting his
head. He held his hand in front of his face, stretching his fingers. It had
become so easy to come and go like this, to leave and then reenter his body.
Every time he did it, it felt more and more natural.
Going through walls is
probably like that,
he thought.
Gets easier the more you do it.

He considered walking outside to
see Marty, but he knew Marty would be disappointed in him if he didn’t join him
in the River. Marty had been encouraging him to try and go further and further
from his body when he entered the flow. He let himself slip back into the
River, and he drifted back through the wall of the trailer. This time he kept
his eyes open, and for a brief second he saw the interior of the wall. Not much
to look at.

You made it!
Marty said.

It’s still freaky,
Winn
replied.

Your body will be fine, as long
as no one disturbs you. If they do, you’ll feel it, and you can return to it
very quickly, no matter where you are.

I’d still like to stay close,
if you don’t mind,
Winn said.

Ah, shucks,
Marty said.
That
ruins what I had planned!

What?
Winn asked,
intrigued.

Well, I was just a little bored
of walking on the ground, that’s all. I was thinking it might be more
interesting to walk around a couple of hundred feet up.
Marty smiled at him
and began to rise.
You coming?

Winn watched as Marty rose
rapidly. He was scared to join him, and didn’t move.

Marty stopped about thirty feet
above him and looked down.
Oh, come on. Trust me. I’ve been doing this for
years. You’ll be fine, I promise.

Winn gulped and let himself rise
to join Marty. He began to panic as the distance between himself and the ground
increased.

Don’t look down, look up!
Marty called, and Winn raised his head to look toward him. When he reached
Marty’s height of thirty feet, he stopped.

Isn’t this high enough?
Winn asked, panicked.

Well, I don’t know,
Marty
said.
Look around. You tell me.

They were above most of the trees,
and Winn could see the tops of the trailers and the power and telephone lines
running to them. He could see the driveway running from the park entrance all
the way back to Marty’s trailer.

Kinda cool, isn’t it?
Marty
asked.

Yeah,
Winn said, slowly
gaining his bearings.

Here’s something even cooler
,
Marty said, and shot up into the air. Winn looked up and saw Marty another
fifty feet up, hanging in the sky.

Come on,
Marty called.
You’re
already up here. Might as well enjoy a better view!

Winn felt anxious left alone in
the air. Marty’s proximity had made him feel more comfortable, so he allowed
himself to rise rapidly to where Marty was suspended in the air.

Whoa!
Winn thought when he
arrived. He could see for miles.

Yeah, it’s different this high,
Marty said.
You can see a lot more. By the way, this is about as high as you
can go without taking something first to keep your head straight. Remember
that. If you go much higher without it, you can get dizzy and pass out.

What do you have to take?
Winn asked.

It’ a compound you make from arganthumum,
Marty replied.
Remind me to teach you how to make it someday. But
really, this is high enough for most purposes. Look around!

There’s my school!
Winn
said, pointing south.
Over there!

Oh!
Marty said, pointing
down.
Look, a hawk, below us!

Winn saw the predator circling underneath
them. Watching the bird shift direction from this angle was inspiring, and it
made him want to move through the air and fly, too.

Oh, that is so cool!
Winn
said.

Winn, where was that cave,
where you found the nickel?
Marty asked.

Winn turned, looking north into
the desert.
That way,
he said, pointing.

Let’s fly there and check it
out, shall we?
You head in that direction. Go as fast as you want, I’ll
follow you.

Winn turned back to look at Marty,
all smiles.

Alright,
he said, and he
leaned forward, feeling himself moving rapidly northward and down toward the
ground, watching as it sped under him, imagining he was a hawk.

He felt he could go faster, but he
settled at a speed that made the trip exhilarating, floating about twenty feet
off the ground. As they approached the canyon, he slowly drifted down, worried
about a crash landing. Instead he merely came to a stop and allowed himself to
drift about a foot off the ground. He smiled to himself, feeling more confident.

It’s over here,
he said,
leading Marty to the cave’s entrance. Marty joined him, looking into the hole
in the ground.
You going to go in?
Winn asked.

Marty looked up at Winn, then back
at the hole.
No, I don’t think so,
Marty said.

You could just drift through
the rock and right into the cave, right?
Winn asked.

I could, but I don’t think
that’s a good idea,
Marty replied.

Why?

Because something is… off.
Something is wrong with it.

Wrong? You mean the ghosts
inside?

No,
Marty said.
Something
else. There are things in the River that are dangerous only when you’re in the
River, and this has that feeling. Remember how this feels, Winn. When something
feels like this, the way you feel right now, remember that it’s a sign danger
is nearby.

Winn felt a little of the feeling
that had overcome him inside the cave, when he saw the bones and knew that he
and Brent should leave. He began to get scared.
Do you think they know we’re
out here?
he asked.