Ancient Fire

by Judi Calhoun

Peter sat in front of a bowl of Cap’n Crunch cereal with a backdrop of bright sun streaming through the curtains, the rays striking his shoulders and giving the illusion of shimmering angel wings.

  I shuffled around the kitchen getting a bowl and my cereal from the cabinet. I slid into a chair, staring at him while I poured my cereal. He was dressed in a navy T-shirt, that coy smile on his face… at least his eyes looked normal.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  I grunted a reply as I ate my Alpha-Bits. I was not in the mood to be cheerful, nor did I feel like figuring out the mystery of Peter Green.

  “No milk?” he asked.

  “I like it dry, tastes better.”

  “I thought they took Alpha-Bits off the market.”

  “No, that’s not true,” I said between mouthfuls. “They’re just not as popular as your cereal. That’s probably why I like them so much.”

  Why were we talking about cereal, instead something important like how he saved my life? Okay, so Peter was in the mood to talk. Good, I thought, let’s talk.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Fire away.”

  “What’s my secret? And what’s up with those weird eyes of yours?”

  “That’s two questions,” he said, picking up my cereal box and pouring handfuls out onto the table.

  “Stop that! What are you doing with my cereal?” I had at least one large bowl left in the box. He held up his finger wanting me to wait a moment, while he moved letters around.

  “I need an ‘i’ Where is it? Ah, here’s one.” He reached into my bowl and took some of my cereal.

  “Ew!” I stared at the bowl. “You touched my food.” I protectively pulled the bowl toward my chest wondering how clean his hands were. “I can’t eat that cereal you just dumped out on this dirty table.”

  “You know what an anagram is?” he asked unexpectedly.

  “Yes,” I said, “you unscramble words to create new words.”

  “We do this, you know in home school. I took Ian’s name and made a small sentence; I can rob, but I have letters left over, so it doesn’t really count as a true anagram.”

  I studied Peter without speaking. Although I was not happy that he’d played with my cereal, I had to admit there was something about him. He was both fascinating and annoying at the same time.

  “Maybe you can come up with enough letters to spell, I am a demon,” I said, watching him move my cereal again around the table. He wasn’t even fazed by my comment.

  “That might be hard to do unless we know his middle name.” Peter’s head shot up, “Do you know what it is?”

  “No,” I informed him, “and you never answer my questions.”

  “What questions?”

  “Last night, what you did at the restaurant...saving my life?”

  He gave me an innocent, yet vague look.

  “Now don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” I said firmly.

  “Whoa, you really are in a bad mood. Are you like this every morning?” he mused, not looking at me. “Can you find out Ian’s middle name?”

  “You have an incredible knack for changing the subject.”

  “Do I?” he smiled. “Another talent.”

  As I got up to place my empty bowl in the sink, mom came into the kitchen, “What on earth are you doing, Peter?”

  “Nothing,” he said, swiftly scooping the whole mess up in his hands and tossing it into the trash.

  Mom took the cereal box and placed it in the cabinet. “Peter, your mom and I are going shopping today. Would you like to come?”

  “Ah...no thanks,” said Peter.

  “I hate to think of you sitting here alone all day.”

  Peter grinned at me. “Don’t worry, Aunt Terry. I’ve got plenty of work to do. I’m going to the library. Catch up on some assignments.”

  Yeah right, like that’s exactly what he’ll be doing. I almost lost it.

  “You’re such a good kid, Peter,” she sighed.

  I rolled my eyes.

  I glanced down at my watch and gasped. I was late. Being late meant having to get a note for class...ugh! I grabbed my bag and ran the three blocks to school, traversed the front steps, noting how deserted the schoolyard was; the halls were just as empty. I squeezed noiselessly inside the rear door of my Economics class, stealthily tip-toed down the aisle past Amanda and dropped into my seat. Mr. Lynch was busy writing on the board and he had not noticed I was late. I let out a grateful sigh.

  Amanda immediately leaned forward and whispered, “Did you hear what happened to Mr. Gregg?’ I glanced back at her. Her eyes were wide. Amanda Shapiro had short, wild, brown hair, and bushy eyebrows. Generally she was quiet, not a gossip like her sister Cindy. I glanced over at Cindy. She had the same wild hair…family trait. Her face reminded me of a bird: pointed nose...small mouth, amazing for such a big gossip.

  “They don’t think he’s going to live through the night. We have a new principal.”

  “Really?” I said catatonically. “Poor Mr. Gregg.”

  “While he was in the hospital a rare spider bit him during the night. Can you imagine, first a snake then a spider? Freaks me out thinking about bugs crawling on me while I’m sleeping.” She made an exaggerated shudder.

  Mr. Lynch heard us this time. He shot a warning glance toward Amanda. We sat as still as statues.

  I frowned. This was a little too peculiar ...first, a snake...then spider... it was obvious someone wanted him dead.

  “Who is our new principal?” I whispered.

  “A Mr. Corbet,” she said softly.

  My heart stopped.

  Could there possibly be another Corbet in town? Somehow, I knew this was Ian’s new job…his big surprise.

  “You look sick,” said Cindy.

  “Ladies, ladies,” said Mr. Lynch, “if you prefer to continue your conversation, I’ll be forced to have you explain to the class what is so vitally important that you must interrupt my lesson. As for you, Ms. Wells, if you are late for my class in the future, I’ll be giving you detention. Is that clear?”

  Busted!

  “Yes, sir,” I croaked dryly.

  His eyes bore a hole into me as I sank lower in my seat.

  I waited until he was writing on the board again before I quietly tore a corner of lined paper from my notebook and wrote, “Would his first name be Ian?”

  I passed it back to Amanda. I heard the sound of her pencil as she scribbled a reply and slid the note under my armpit. I opened it and read, “Yes. Do you know him?”

  At that very moment, the classroom door burst opened and I turned to see Ian Corbet slither in, smiling like the snake he was, his beady eyes pinned on me.

  Annoyance clouded old Lynch’s face. He scowled. “Well, well, to what do we owe this...pleasant surprise?” he said contemptuously. Mr. Lynch despised having his lectures interrupted by anyone! I could tell there was an instant dislike for Ian.

  “Class,” said Mr. Lynch, folding his arms over his chest and rocking slightly back and forth impatiently. “I’d like to introduce our new administrator, Mr. Ian Corbet.”

  “I hope you’ll forgive my interruption,” said Ian, stepping right in front of Mr. Lynch. “Since I’m new to your school, I just wanted you all to know that my door is open anytime you need to talk.”

  This type of announcement was generally made during a school assembly, not in one classroom. Who had Ian Corbet persuaded to give him this job? Wasn’t his former job some sort of political figure in Iran? Didn’t a principal position normally come through teachers climbing the ranks?

  “I have one more important thing to announce. I am getting married.” He paused waiting for what? Applause? Nobody moved. Mr. Lynch lightly tapped his pencil on the old mahogany desk.

  “Shonna Wells…” He pointed right at me, “Will finally have a new father...me.” Now everyone turned to gawk at my burning cheeks. I wanted to die.

  “Oh, and Mr. Lynch,” he s
aid, “I’ll be keeping a close eye on Shonna. I expect great things from her.”

  Both men studied me, like I was some sort of specimen under glass. “Well, you need not worry. Shonna’s one of our brightest students.”

  “Good!” said Ian, somehow disappointed. “I wouldn’t want her to fail this class and embarrass me.” Both men chuckled, although I could tell Mr. Lynch was fuming beneath the surface.

  I sunk even lower in my seat. If I had the power to disappear, this would’ve been a perfect time to vanish.

  “I’ll let you get back to your lecture,” Ian said, turning once more to gaze at me with his wide devilish grin, before walking out the door.

  The bell rang. Mr. Lynch closed his book a little too hard. I jumped. The room erupted in noise. Chairs scraped on the floor, and kids chatted as they scurried from the room. I moved slowly in a trance, like a robot, rising from my seat, tossing my books in my bag.

  Cindy brushed past me, “Congrats on your hot new dad!” she smiled sardonically, racing from the room. I heard her giggling all the way down the hall.

  Ian had managed to destroy my social life in just ten minutes. The news about Ian becoming my new dad, spread around the corridors fast, with Cindy Shapiro serving as gossip central.

  Poor Mr. Gregg was struggling for his life because of me. If Ian wanted me dead, why didn’t he just attack me instead of killing people around me? I could not stand the idea of someone else suffering because of me. That had to be Ian’s plan or part of it anyway, to kill me by inches. Taking away my once happy home, messing with me...in the most painful ways he could.

  I seriously wanted to talk with Jake right now. I needed to hear his reassuring voice, telling me everything was going to be all right. We are not allowed to use our phones during school hour, so I would have to wait until lunch hour. That felt like a million hours away.

  A wave of students shoved me along. I moved in a trance, not really caring if I was late for my next class. What did it matter now that Ian Corbet was making my life a living hell?

  That’s when I noticed Rick Steel leaning against a locker, leather jacket over a black death, metal T-shirt, and sunglasses...a really cute bad boy. He was blocking some freshman’s locker. The boy was pleading for Rick to move. He needed his books. Rick disregarded him as if he were some insect or other annoying pest. His dark blue eyes followed me as I passed by and just like that, he was at my side.

  “Hello,” he said, his voice smooth, “You’re Shonna Wells.”

  “And you’re Rick Steel.” My mood shifted from apathy to irritation.

  “Do you like holding up traffic, or was that a special performance just for my benefit? ” I asked sarcastically.

  “I thought your performance was pretty good.”

  A sudden flash of me kissing Jake sent heat rushing to my face. Immediately, I lost the tough edge I so desperately wanted to keep.

  “Jake’s a lucky guy,” he said.

  I dropped my head, trying to hide the color of my cheeks.

  “What do you want?” I snapped back.

  “Just to say hello.” He gave me an innocent smile.

  “I’m not always like that,” I said. Why am I explaining myself to him? Who cares what he thinks?

  “It’s cool.” He raised one hand in surrender.

  Maybe if I ignored him, he would just go away. I made a quick right down a side corridor, toward my English class. He sort of lagged slightly behind. I noticed a silver chain with a peace symbol swinging from his neck. He didn’t carry any books or a backpack. In fact, he resembled someone just visiting rather than a student.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked moving closer. “You looked upset.”

  “I’m going to be late for class and so are you!” As I glanced at my watch, I picked up my pace.

  “No big deal,” he said. “It's only high school.” He was running his hand along a row of metal lockers.

  “Where’s your next class?” I asked.

  “Here,” he said, pointing to room 105...Impossible. My class! He’d never been in my class before today. This was something new. When did this happen?

  I reached for the door handle. Rick shot in front of me, pushing it wide, holding it open, smiling at me as I slipped past him.

  Late again for another class…lucky for me, my teacher was MIA. That explained all the loose chatter. As I dropped into my seat, I noticed Rick taking his seat, one row back to my right watching me.

  Mr. Baker rushed into the room mumbling something. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized. I wondered if Ian was responsible somehow.

  He quickly passed out worksheets and broke us up into small study groups to answer book review questions. I couldn’t believe my ears when he said, “Wells and Steel.” I groaned and reluctantly moved to an empty desk beside Rick.

  He flashed me a smug grin and swung our desks closer together with his foot. We were a little too close for my comfort.

  “Yeah, so I doubt you’ve even read ‘The Tempest.’ Am I right?”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge.” He spoke softly, never taking his eyes off me.

  Glancing over the list of questions, I was thinking it would be hard to answer any of one of these if he had not read the play. “We have to explore two of these. What about the first one?” I glanced at Rick. He shrugged.

  His dark blue eyes, caused my heart rate to increase, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I held the paper in front of my face to hide, as I read the first question aloud. “There are many tempests to be explored. Name some of them. Well I know one,” my voice sounded breathy, “conflict of class.” I wrote it down.

  “Right,” said Rick, leaning close to my face. His fingers reached out to touch strands of my hair. “Forbidden love?” he whispered.

  I gulped hard and pulled my hair from his fingers, shoving it behind my ear. He was right. Stunned. I slowly wrote his answer on the paper.

  “Good,” I said. “Any more?”

  “Sibling rivalry,” he said.

  He was right again, I didn’t know how, except that he must have read the book, or he was good at guessing. I strained to think of something else. “What about revenge?” I said in a rush.

  He nodded. His smoldering eyes affected my breathing. He was cute; abnormally cute, and so different from Jake. Jake was rugged, an earthy guy. Steel was your classic bad boy type- leather, bedroom eyes, and whatever the heck that power was, he possessed. I was like a fly trapped in his web. He was wrapping me up for lunch.

  Come on concentrate! I have extraordinary powers. I am like a superhero, for crying out loud, and superheroes never fall for the bad guy...do they?

  I cleared my throat. “Next question. Examine topics and undertones that pervade during the play.”

  “Sex,” said Steel.

  “You mean romantic love,” I corrected.

  “No,” he leaned very close and whispered in my ear, “sex.”

  For a moment, I could not breathe. “I...I’ll write down romance with sexual undertones.”

  Still smiling, Rick shrugged his shoulders again and glanced away.

  I closed my eyes, feeling my power return. “What about the serious tone?” I asked. “This may be a comedy, but it really has some serious issues.”

  “Like murder,” said Rick, “...attempts to overthrow a government. The serious undertones undermine the comedic mood.”

  My jaw dropped. All of sudden Rick had gotten serious. He had not only read the play, but also had a comprehensive knowledge that would rival Cliff ‘s Notes.

  Mr. Baker called the class back to order. I had fallen under the Steel spell. In a fog, I turned back to my seat when he reached for my wrist...his thumb running across the light hair on my arm, turning my mind into mush.

  “I’d like to take you out.”

  “Um...what? Sure,” I said.

  He let go of my arm. “Tomorrow night?”

  “Um...I…”

  “I’ll pick you up at six o’clock.�
��

  Suddenly I snapped out of it and turned to say no, but he was gone.

  I realized class was dismissed and everyone was leaving. I grabbed my bag and ran out into the midst of chaos, my eyes searching the sea of students. I slammed my fist into someone’s locker. I could not believe that I had just stupidly agreed to go out with Rick Steel. I didn’t even like him.

  * * *

  Chapter 12