Root
Page 38
“But where will I go?”
“I have someone coming who will take you to Wales for now. But you must not stay in any one place too long. But Wales is a lovely place to start. Safe and lonely, where can you miss me and be miserable in peace.”
“This is insane. Why won’t you come with me?”
She rolled her eyes. “You are being dense again, James. How many times do I have to explain to you the art of surfing?”
She looked at me with eyes as hard as the steel beams that made the bridge, and as soft as the rain. “Life here mostly sucks, James. And even when it is not, it is temporary. We both know there is something better … and forever. Victoria’s people know how to make it so our bodies can be discarded. But it will take time.”
A small car—a Fiat—pulled up, driven by a thirty-ish man with a flat top and a nose ring. Isobel hopped into the back, propping her shotgun up against the window. The guy got out and loaded Karla’s suitcase into the trunk.
My heart tumbled, my innards swirled, as if my organs had been caught up in a violent storm.
“James, this is Linval. His friend Sturgis should be coming along soon to take you to his Grandpa’s place in Brynmawr. He’ll give you room and board in return for chores. He’s lost a leg and does not get around as well as he used to.”
My head was swimming. “When did you … arrange all this?”
“Wales was supposed to be for Izzie and I. Back when I still hoped you would never find me in Inverness. But then you came and now I see it is a better place for you. Izzie and I can lose ourselves in Glasgow. No one in the family is in touch with Linval. They don’t even know he is alive.”
She opened the passenger side door.
“Karla … no … I can’t do this—”
“You are not to come to Glasgow, do you understand? And stay out of Cardiff, too. There is too much big time drug dealing there.”
“But … Karla … I can’t live … I don’t want to … without you.”
She paused and looked at me. Something in my eyes and posture must have affected her because she stepped away from the car, swooped over and settled into my arms, pressing her cheek up against mine. I was too obliterated to hug her back, but my arms slowly found their way around her shoulder blades.
Tears dribbled onto her collar and mixed with the raindrops already beaded on the nylon. I didn’t sob or anything, I just leaked. I wanted to say stuff but my words refused to congeal.
“Don’t worry. You just ride that storm. Let your heart despair, as I will mine. The more you do, the sooner we’ll see each other in Root.”
She lifted herself up on her toes and studied my eyes. “We are both young,” she said. “Time is on our side.” She kissed me on the lips, brief and soft, and stepped away.
She got into the car without looking back and slammed the door. Isobel stared back at me, a faint smile curling her lips—a blonde Mona Lisa. The window rolled down. Karla jabbed her finger at the window towards a lone headlight coming our way across the bridge.
“Here comes your ride.”
The Fiat pulled out from the curb and did a three point turn, heading back across the bridge. A motorcycle pulled up, ridden by a young man with a black goatee. He wore a watch cap under his helmet.
“I’m Sturgie. Hop on mate. We’d best be off. It’s a six hour ride to my Granddad’s.”
I got onto the back of the bike and looked across the bridge towards the Fiat’s retreating tail lights. I lifted my eyes to the chaos of the clouds just now beginning to reveal their true nature in the burgeoning dawn.
The motorcycle roared off and I knew right then that my heart would never heal, would never be at calm, not here in this world, not ever unless Karla and I found our way to Frelsi. We were doomed to one path forward through this life. I could only pray we weren’t reaching for the unreachable.
Epilogue: What, no death?
Wait, wasn’t he supposed to die? But he does. Just not yet.
In a hurry, are you? Wishing me dead? There was a time when I too rooted for bad things to happen to me, because that was my only ticket to Root.
Death will come for both me and you, I guarantee, before you know it. There’s much more to tell about the time that comes before. We’ve only scratched the surface here.
But that will have to wait because …
I’m fading … not to Root … not to Earth … but to a place where only the good and the dead can go.
*****
THE END