by Holly Hood
“Arnold you go if you’re so worried about going home.” Jake pointed at Henri’s cell that hadn’t stopped ringing. “Do you want me to answer it?”
Henri shook his head. “It’s probably just my cousin checking to see where I am.”
But Jake wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Henri flinched. Jake yanked the phone from his pocket shoving him with his free arm. The ringing quickly ended.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Henri asked, dusting himself off. He had to give it to the guy he had a good amount of muscle on his side. He had almost made him eat the concrete.
“Jake give him his phone back. He hasn’t done anything to you.” Jake ignored them both reading over the texts between him and Maven. His blood rocketing through his veins and making him angrier and angrier with every heartbeat, the thought of Maven having a nice time with anyone else made him furious. He squeezed the phone in his fist and then threw it at the window of the yogurt hut, letting out a guttural scream of anger. It crashed, a new symphony of glass showering the ground. Leaving both windows of the yogurt hut smashed.
Henri backed up, but Jake was gaining on him. He couldn’t even understand what he was saying, he was in shock. His body inundated with adrenaline, telling him to run instead of fight like normal guys his age would do.
Arnold jumped in trying to pry Henri loose from Jake’s grip. He hadn’t admitted to anyone, but he knew Henri was sick. And even though he had been sworn to secrecy he wasn’t about to sit there and let Henri get pummeled by Jake. Arnold pushed and shoved Jake trying his best to release Henri.
Henri shoved against Jake, the foul smell of beer on his breath. The moment turning into nothing but a nightmare that he didn’t want to be a part of. He could hear his phone echoing from inside the yogurt hut.
Jake swung, his fist coming into contact with the side of Henri’s face all the while Arnold was shouting at him to just lay off and leave poor Henri alone. Jake didn’t have empathy for Henri, he was beyond that. He was angry and drunk and irrational. He swung again landing another fist, only this time it was the side of his body because Henri was doing his best to duck and dodge each fist that crashed in a fury against him, burning his flesh, making his body ache.
“Why do you think you’re better than I am? Did Maven tell you about our kiss?” He swung again, both of them stumbling into the picnic table out of breath. Henri tried to stand up.
“What are you doing? What kind of guy doesn’t even throw a punch? Fight for her.” Jake growled, shoving Henri with everything he had left, knocking him against the wall of the yogurt hut and finally he dropped on his own free will into the glass beneath him.
Henri lifted his head, resting his arms on his knees. Jake was panting, out of breath at this point. He told himself to just get up and start walking. This kid was drunk and the quicker he got away the better. He wasn’t far from home.
“Jake.” Arnold said over and over again. Henri closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing, trying to control his heart. Trying to will it to just relax and not go haywire. He licked his lips, bringing a hand to his forehead, blood staining his fingertips.
He didn’t understand why he deserved this. Why Jake wouldn’t just leave him alone. His heart crashed harder and harder, he clutched his chest, staring up at the stars, praying for a miracle.
Arnold’s frantic screams crashed into Henri’s conscious. Henri turned, shocked to see the concrete brick coming for him, guided by Jake, a sudden heat nipped at his scalp. His body crumpled on the asphalt. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, the last thought in his mind was making it home—if he could just make it home.
And then all fell quiet. He couldn’t hear Jake furiously screaming at him any longer. Or hear Arnold pleading and crying for Jake to stop what he was doing. He couldn’t hear that owl anymore either, his eyes fluttered, going fuzzy. He concentrated on the fist slack above his head in small blurs of color.
And then everything went black.
***
“Tell us one more time.” Flynn’s father asked on the porch steps. There the three men in the house stood, waiting on Henri.
Flynn squeezed the bridge of his nose. He had been relaying the same story for almost an hour. He didn’t like to be the one to rat Henri out, but his entire family was freaking out. “I set up a spot down by the lake for Henri and Maven. You know, it was a special night. He was dead set on making tonight amazing before tomorrow morning when everything went back to normal. That’s where I left him.”
Doug Levitt—Henri’s father scrubbed his chin. He sighed. “He’s probably having a good time. Making up for lost times.”
“Than why no answer on his cell?” Flynn’s dad said with an even bigger and more concerned sigh than Henri’s own father. “He knows how much we worry about him.”
“We all were young once. Some things outrank even your own wellbeing. Sex would be one of them.” Doug chuckled, taking a seat. “Hell, if I was dying I would be getting it in with as many girls as I could get my hands on. Just give him a little while longer.”
Flynn shot his dad a look. Henri’s parents were so simple. Henri was just as important to his parents as their own kids. His mother opened the screen door for the millionth time, poking her head out. “Have you seen him? I’ve called his phone damn near fifty times now.”
“He’s probably with Maven still. Let it alone for another hour then we’ll go look.” His dad’s body squared up, he dropped down on the porch steps wringing his hands together restlessly.
Flynn felt awful. His stomach was sour. He had orchestrated the entire thing and now his family was miserable wondering and waiting on Henri to return. Henri hadn’t even answered the phone for him.
His mom popped out the door again. “I can call the Wilders.” She let the door thud softly behind her.
***
The phone sounded through the house, echoing the hallway. Maven listened suspiciously to the heavy footsteps bounding across the floor. She looked at her clock, it was past midnight.
Holding her breath she listened warily.
“Maven is home in her bed….she has been for some time…I did not know that…well I will see if she knows anything.” Her mother’s words stopped and her doorknob rattled. Maven jumped out of bed, her heart beating hard in her chest.
“Henri was with you at the hop tonight?” She eyed Maven. It wasn’t like her daughter to lie. Maven’s head dropped in embarrassment. “No time to feel bad now. Did he say he was going home after he dropped you off?”
Maven’s heart sink. She felt unsteady and ill. “He didn’t walk me home. I told him to hurry home because of tomorrow. I swear I didn’t know anything about his procedure until after the hop. Is everything alright, mom?” Her mother waved a hand and swiftly shut the door.
Maven pressed herself against the door, clutching her chest. Tears spilling down her cheeks as she listened to her mother. “Maven said she went home alone. Henri was on his way as far as she knew. She said she knew nothing about tomorrow. Yes, I believe her.” There was a soft click, which told her the call ended.
Maven dropped to the ground sobbing. Suddenly she remembered something. “Mom!”
Her mother opened her door seconds later.
“He texted me back. I texted him after I showered and got ready for bed and he replied.” She jumped up, grabbing her phone. “It wasn’t more than thirty minutes ago. I’m sure he’s okay.”
Her mother’s eyes were apprehensive. She pushed her hair from her eyes giving her an understanding smile. “I’m sure. Get some rest. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“Isn’t there something I can do?” She felt helpless.
“Stay by your phone. Or try calling him.”
Escape
Jake couldn’t hear over Arnold’s hysterical crying. Arnold was crying like a child, sobbing, on his knees staring at the mess Jake had made. Completely unable to function enough to even wipe the snot from his nose, he just cried.
<
br /> Jake tossed the concrete brick. It clunked against the asphalt and rolled into the brush. Jake blinked, wiggled his aching fingers and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He was in his own world, detached from reality as he stared at Henri.
“You killed him,” Arnold sobbed, shaking Henri. “Man…we’re so dead, Jake.”
Jake kicked the block in aggravation. “He’s not dead. I barely hit him.”
Arnold shook his head incredulously. “You hit him over the head with a concrete brick!”
“Just let me think. Shut your mouth, Arnold.” Jake pulled at his hair, his hands trembling with the awareness of what he had done. His drunken stupor was wearing off. He looked over his shoulder paranoid. “Help me lift him.”
Arnold scoffed. “For what?”
“Do you want to go to prison, Arnold?” He slipped his arms under Henri’s armpits. Arnold reluctantly took Henri by the ankles. They hurried across the asphalt of the yogurt hut, carrying Henri into the brush. Jake dropped him like a piece of garbage. Arnold carefully sat the rest of him down, he was still a person.
“He’s still breathing,” Jake mumbled. He pushed into Henri’s unresponsive body with his foot sending him down the hill. Henri’s body rolled three times before it ended up wedged between some stones and an old log covered in moss.
Arnold scratched his head, nervously watching his old friend treat Henri Levitt as if he wasn’t important enough to require help. Jake elbowed him. “Help me clean up the beer cans so we can get out of here.”
Arnold’s jaw dropped. “What about Henri, Jake? You just going to leave him here? What if he dies?”
Jake rolled his eyes. “We’ll phone it in to the fire station or something. Now move it.” Jake gathered the cans and the cooler, his feet crunching over the shards of glass as the two of them quickly cleaned up.
“What if they’re too late, Jake?”
“Arnold! Pull it together. I won’t be the only one in deep shit if they catch us here. Now come on!” Jake burst into a sprint leaving Arnold saddled with the cooler filled with garbage, Arnold quickly followed.
***
Flynn clutched the steering wheel of his truck backing out of the driveway with his mother and his uncle. As soon as the neighbor called them about the broken windows at the Yogurt Hut his mother demanded they go right then and there. There was still no word from Henri, his phone was only going to voicemail now.
And Flynn couldn’t shake the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked at his mom, pinned between him and his uncle Doug. She chewed her thumbnail, nervously watching the road. The car was silent. The only sound was the low rumble of the road beneath them. Flynn didn’t know what to say.
As soon as Flynn pulled into the parking lot of the yogurt hut his mother’s breath hitched sending the hairs on the back of his neck on end and his stomach into a horrible wave of sickness. He forced himself to look at the sheriff’s vehicle. He told himself it was just a couple of vandals nothing more.
“Move it!” His mother exclaimed, shoving into Doug until she all but climbed over his body to get out of the truck.
The sheriff was old. Probably should have retired years before, but in Portwood there was no need for actual protection—nobody ever did anything.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hunt,” Sheriff Cole said. He hitched his pants up, gesturing toward the windows. “Seems to be nothing more than vandals to me.”
Flynn examined the windows. He looked back at his mother and the Sherriff. Doug standing next to his truck smoking a cigarette rather than caring about the shape of their business—or his son for that matter, Flynn’s anger started to grow, he took a deep breath wanting to scream at Doug, but it wasn’t the time. “What did you say busted these windows, Sherriff Cole?”
Sherriff Cole scratched his head. He glanced at the ground and then shuffled forward. “You know, I hadn’t even thought about it. I figured some of them loose bricks or something.”
Flynn leaned over, peering into the window. “Momma hand me your keys.”
“Flynn what is it now?” She huffed, highly agitated and emotional. She just wanted to know what was happening with Henri.
Flynn opened the door, hitting the lights. There in all its glory sat Henri’s phone in two pieces and a can of beer. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?” His mother asked. “What, Flynn?” She forced herself into the small confines of the yogurt hut. Flynn looked at his mother, his expression grim. She clutched her chest, all the color draining from her face.
Flynn stood up, the phone in his grip.
Janet shook her head in disbelief. She slapped Flynn across the face, shaking the sting away. “He wasn’t supposed to leave the house.” She started to cry.
***
Several attempts at calling Henri and probably twenty texts offered her no answers. He wasn’t answering. After breaking down in front of her entire family Maven fell asleep on the couch in the den. Her mother had covered her with a blanket, and her father had even checked on her several times. She had cried herself to sleep and there wasn’t anything he could do to make her feel better.
Maven’s sleep was restless until she finally lost touch with reality and was swept into a dream. There he was. Henri. Staring at her, she sat up, tilting her head and taking him in. He was smiling at her.
“You’re dreaming of me,” he said.
“You scared us.” She told him. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
He grinned. “Here I am.”
“I know.” She reached out to touch him, but no matter how far she reached she never was able to. She stared, confused, but he wasn’t. He hadn’t even noticed.
“Close your eyes,” Henri said. But Maven shook her head, refusing to do such a thing. He stepped forward. “Close your eyes, Maven.”
Suddenly her eyes closed.
“Bye.” His words were sharp, almost too much to handle.
Maven jumped, waking up. The room was filled with darkness. She sat up, pushing her hair from her eyes. She sighed. “It was a dream.” It was a dream, but a really odd one. It didn’t feel like any normal dream she ever had.
She dialed Henri’s phone again, but was greeted with his voicemail. She left the same message. “Henri, I have to know your okay. Please, please call me.” She wiped her eyes, burying her head into the couch pillow.
***
Flynn paced across the asphalt of the yogurt hut. His entire family now all there with him trying to make sense of what it meant to have Henri’s phone, but no Henri. Flynn paced back and forth methodically, trying to come up with anything.
His dad patted his back. “Mrs. Wilder says Maven and him weren’t fighting. So, we’re still trying to figure out why the busted windows.” He stared off. “I don’t know what else to do. We called damn near everyone we know. The Sherriff says no phone calls have come in. Where could he be?”
Flynn looked around at the flock of onlookers, families, friends, business owners all offering nothing more than their noses in their business, as well as their apologies for the busted windows. Flynn shook his head, looking at the asphalt. He dropped down staring closer at the black tar. Unless he was seeing things he swore there was blood on a few shards of glass. His body tensed up, he followed the small specks across the ground on his hands and knees. Not caring if he cut himself to hell.
“Flynn?” His father called from behind him, he followed Flynn’s descent toward the brush. Suddenly Flynn jumped up. He let out a shocked scream.
“I found him!” That was enough to get everyone moving. Why hadn’t the Sherriff thought to look there Flynn asked himself as he rushed down the hill.
“Don’t move him.” His father warned. He carefully made it down the hill, the rest of their family at the top gasping and crying for Henri to be okay.
“Call for an ambulance, Doug.” His father shouted up to the family. He kneeled down to check to see if Henri was breathing.
Flynn looked away. He knew he was supposed t
o be strong, but he couldn’t forgive himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the tears. “Is he breathing?”
Is this the way?
Maven wrung her hands together nervously as she watched her mother rush back and forth across the kitchen gathering her things. She knew all the signs of an emergency. And this was the way her mother acted when there was an emergency.
“What’s going on?” She sniffled.
Maggie climbed the stool taking a seat, she wore her pajamas still and was a bit lethargic, but she knew Maven was upset as soon as she looked at her. She had stayed locked in her room as soon as she heard the news about Henri’s unknown whereabouts. She already knew what it felt like to deal with Maven’s sadness when it came to the things she cared about in life, so she chose to stay away.
Their mother snatched her keys from the table. She shot a quick glance in Maven’s direction. Maggie grabbed the box of frosted flakes Nick had left out and dumped them in a bowl. She watched cautiously.
“Maven I can’t… I can’t sweetheart,” Their mother said, her eyes heavy and filling with tears.
“I just want to know that he is alright. That’s not against protocol, Mom.” Maven wiped at her eyes. “Please.”
“They found him. His father said they found him. Call Flynn or Janet, Maven. I got to go.” She hurried across the kitchen planting a kiss a top Maven’s head, they hugged, and then she was gone, leaving Maven despondent.
“Maybe you should go up there.” Maggie volunteered.
Maven looked at Maggie. “What if he is dying?”
“He is dying, he has been dying. Maybe you need to see him.” Maggie looked away, poking at her frosted flakes, her messy hair shielding her eyes from her sister. “There was always going to be a day where Henri …died, it could help you get over it.”
Maven cringed. “What do you know, Maggie?” She snapped.