Not only had he woken up to the fact he was going to fail at SCAD, he was suddenly aware of the fact that he’d been protected, sheltered, babied… all of his life. His parents, teachers, friends – everyone – had tricked him.
Professor LeFleur stopped him after class and said that he would work with him… but Alain knew there was no hope. When he looked at the painting now, he realized that his artistic ability was on par with that of a three-year-old.
Sitting on his bed that night and staring at the painting, his roommate had come in and asked if a niece or nephew had sent him a drawing. That was it. The feelings of sadness and betrayal had exploded into rage. Alain began hitting his roommate with the painting. Although his innocent target was shocked by the force of Alain’s outburst, it didn’t really amount to much pain or suffering for his roommate – a stretched canvas is mostly cloth.
Ultimately, Alain was officially reprimanded and given his first official warning from the college within a week of being admitted. After undergoing a few sessions of anger management, he apologized to his roommate, who had promptly gathered his belongings and moved out, and had called Professor LeFleur to schedule his first private painting lesson. A few days after that, RayRay Tishomura was moved into his dorm room.
And it was a blessing. RayRay was blind, thus, could not offer any critique of Alain’s work… improving slightly as it was… and they became quick friends. RayRay liked Alain genuinely, something he’d never had before in his life. He and RayRay began to hang out and shield each other from the subtle contempt the other students held for them. Contempt for the fact that a hack like Alain was surviving the college, and that a blind kid was so infinitely talented in sculpture… they were equally hated for opposite reasons.
That was the genesis of the F-art Group – a group most people avoided like a sudden bout of flatulence.
Alain rolled the die and successfully dispatched the last dragon-man creature. He’d taken a lot of damage and decided to leave the Belly Djinn brothel before suffering any more attacks.
“I get the hell out of there,” he said to RayRay, who was smiling wickedly, “because that was just not cool, dude.”
“You exit the brothel to see Mantha and Patonia entering a nearby house with a strange looking man with a patch over one eye,” RayRay narrated.
“Really?” Alain shook his head and laughed. “I go after them and shout.”
At this point, Samantha and Becky rejoined the discussion, realizing Alain had found their group again.
“Bout time,” Becky said and slapped him on the back. “How were the jelly bellies?”
“Shut up,” Alain said quickly.
“Okay, you two,” Samantha chimed in, “let’s get on with this. I’m thinking this guy must know something about the troll that’s been terrorizing this town… right, RayRay?”
They all looked at their blind campaign-master. He was grinning broadly and nodding his head.
“Do you go into Sir William of Murrell’s house?”
The group exchanged glances.
Alain inhaled. “Let’s do this. I prepare my fire-sword spell. We go in.”
RayRay shuffled some papers around and ran his fingers across a page. “Oh no,” he muttered under his breath, “that’s not good.”
“Dammit, RayRay.” Alain slapped his knee. “Not again!”
6
Becky’s Snowshoes
Becky Patton was a cute girl, but that’s as far as anyone would go in describing her. In fact, the sheer averageness of her appearance made it difficult for those who knew her to describe her at all. Brownish-blondish hair, bluish-greenish eyes… umm… and that’s about as far as they could get.
The most interesting thing about Becky was her predilection for exciting and sometimes dangerous pastimes. Born and raised in Anchorage, Alaska, to Air Force parents, she discovered that boredom was extreme that far north. She’d thus developed a habit of exploring the snow-covered hills and had apparently been born to ski – she was a natural.
Finding completely untouched powder to ski on was a challenge she accepted day in and day out with her friend Darryl. She and Darryl would often snowshoe for miles and miles across the blindingly white landscape, searching for just the right spot to strap on their snowboards and catch some air. She’d accumulated scores of her pencil sketches of the amazingly beautiful vistas they would come across, and actually had several on display at the Elmendorf Air Force Base.
Becky had no intention of ever leaving Alaska… until it happened. It was the kind of thing that happened to other hikers, never to them. The white elephant in the room, so to speak, the danger that roared as loud as a hundred dinosaurs only to be followed by a quiet so deathly it has no equal on Earth. Avalanche.
Darryl had called her early on a Saturday with a new location to check out.
“Ricky said he could get us up to Bold today,” Darryl had told her.
Bold Airport was in the middle of nowhere. One gravel runway equipped to handle small planes for supply deliveries was all it had. Most flights up there didn’t even land, and just made drops.
“From there we can hike up Northeast,” Darryl added excitedly. “Nobody’s been up there, for sure!”
“Sweet,” Becky said, “that’s exactly what I need today.”
“Grab your stuff,” Darryl said, “and meet me out at the hangar.”
“Meet you?” Becky scoffed. “I’ll beat you there. I’m already packed and halfway out the door.”
“You’re on,” Darryl said, and hung up.
It was common for Darryl to arrive ten to fifteen minutes late… for everything. Which is exactly what he did that Saturday. Becky had already loaded the gear into Ricky’s small Cessna and jumped out to greet Darryl. She hugged him, like she always did, and took one of his bags so he could grab his snowboard. She wouldn’t find out until much later that he had fallen in love with her, and that her hugs may have given him the wrong impression. She loved him like a brother… a brother who challenged her to climb higher and take greater risks. A challenge that would be tested in the severest way up on Eklutna Lake that very day.
The flight over was smooth and uneventful. Ricky was able to land without jarring their teeth out and rolled to the end of the runway near the shack that served as a sort of air traffic control building… though there really wasn’t any air traffic out there at all.
Darryl and Becky offloaded their things and helped Ricky unload his supply drop. A scruffy old-timer who was probably looking for gold was there to collect the fee, and paid Ricky in cash. He noticed the snowshoes and skiing gear that the two kids were carrying, and shook his head.
“Too far out fer that, ya know?” he said in a gruff, scratchy voice. “Snow don’t pack out here.”
Darryl sneered at the man. “Dude, we know what we’re doing. We’ve been on the powder all our lives.”
“Suit yerself, young man,” the old-timer said while turning away, “but if’n ya get stuck and need a hand, set a fire. I’ll come get ya.”
“Start a fire?” It was Becky’s turn to laugh. “Nothing will burn up here.”
“Like I said,” he chirped over his shoulder, “start yer fire and I’ll come get ya.”
“Creepy,” Darryl said, grinning at the man’s back. “Who the heck is that?”
Ricky turned toward them. “Oh, that’s Jack. He’s been out here for twenty years looking for gold. Never found any that I know of. But he knows the country better that anyone.”
Becky whistled through her teeth. “Lotta crazies out here, am I right?”
Ricky shrugged but didn’t reply. Darryl picked up his snowboard and started walking. Becky followed.
“Hey,” Ricky called. “I’m back in six hours, got it?”
“We’ll be here,” Darryl called over his shoulder.
Becky could not believe how beautiful the snow was around the lake. Glittering white, with prisms of rainbow flashing off the dew-covered leaves. The air was crisp and
cold, but their gear was designed to trap body heat and she was soon sweating as they hiked.
The hills surrounding the lake were soft and rolling at the bottom, but became steeper and more jagged as they climbed higher and higher. Trouble comes when the fresh snow that falls and packs together becomes dislodged from the land beneath it, and shears off in massive sheets or slides. They rush down the mountainside so fast that there is no chance to outrun it.
Experts tell you that you can hear the slides start to happen… Becky knew that sound now. She would never forget that sound.
They’d hiked up to the top of a beautiful hill with untouched fresh powder that was so clean it looked like whipped cream. Racing down this slope was going to be amazing. At the top, they had stopped to scan around for the most interesting slope to take down. Becky was staring out over the picture-postcard landscape that stretched out to the north. She had taken out her sketchbook and made a quick drawing of it. Her drawings were beautiful, but they couldn’t do justice to the real thing. She stood staring out at the vista when she realized Darryl wasn’t talking at all. She turned around to find him kneeling. He had his hands outstretched, and in them was a box, the kind of box that held rings, a purple velvety box with some gold inlaid writing on the top. He opened it to reveal a small and simple, single-stone engagement ring.
“Rebecca Kimberly Patton,” he said with moist eyes, “will you be my wife?”
As much as she wished now that she could take back what happened next, it was all in the past. What was done, was done.
She laughed… loudly.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” she blurted. “Who put you up to this? I’m not falling for that, dude.”
She continued to chuckle until she realized Darryl was not laughing. He actually looked a little shocked.
“I’m serious, Becky,” he said. “I want to marry you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Darryl,” she sputtered through another laugh. “I’m only sixteen. My parents would kill me!”
“I don’t care,” he said, now sounding more hurt than shocked. “I love you and you love me and…”
“I absolutely do love you,” Becky interrupted, “but like a brother, Darryl.”
She reached down and closed the velvet box.
“But not like this,” she said, her hand still touching his.
“But, Becky,” he stammered, “I thought that—”
“Look,” she said, cutting him off, “let’s just forget all about this. You return the ring. I won’t say a word to anyone. It’ll be like it never happened.”
“Like it never happened?” Darryl raised his voice as he stood. “Damn, Becky, I really got you wrong, didn’t I?”
“Darryl,” she started, “It’s just not the right time. I mean… we’re so young, and we have so much ahead of us. People change and we’ll probably change and…”
“Screw that!” he yelled. “I might change, but my love for you is something that will never change.
Oh, brother, Becky thought, he’s got it bad.
“I’m sorry, Darryl. I never meant you to feel that way or lead you on. But I’m not in love with you… like… ya know… in love with you.”
Darryl said nothing. A tear slid down his cheek.
“C’mon, man,” Becky said, slapping his back. “Don’t be like that. It’s an incredible day. Let’s get in some serious boarding while the snow is fresh.”
Experienced climbers of snowy locations describe the sound as a whumph. It’s the sound of a million tons of snow breaking loose from the ground beneath. As soon as Becky had slapped Darryl’s back, they heard it. The whumph above them was loud, like a distant burst of thunder. That whumph was followed by the rumbling.
Becky looked at Darryl. “Slide.”
“Yup,” he said.
They grabbed all the gear they could hold and began to run sideways.
“Get out of the way,” Darryl yelled over the growing freight train of sound, “the middle moves the fastest. If you get caught in it, swim. Stay on top of it as long as you...”
The snow hit them like a tsunami rushing down the mountainside. Becky thrashed her arms like a swimmer, straining to stay as close as she could to the top of the snowy maelstrom. She lost sight of Darryl, but hoped he was able to stay upright too. She couldn’t see anything in any direction but white. If she hit a tree at this speed, it was crush her. After what seemed like a lifetime, she came to a stop, buried beneath the snow. Feeling herself slowing down, she’d cupped her hands around her mouth, giving her a small open space to breathe in… likely about twenty minutes of air. Amazingly, she saw light, meaning she’d been able to stay near the surface.
Digging slowly, she began to excavate the snow around her face and soon burst through what was only a foot or so of snow. She pulled herself free and looked around.
Nothing. No sign of Darryl, his gear, or her gear. Unbelievably, her snowshoes were still strapped to her feet. She plodded around on top of the snow.
“Darryl,” she screamed, “where are you?”
Nothing. Darryl was gone… and he would never come back.
They never found his body.
Alaska was never the same without Darryl. Becky closed herself off from the outdoors, never again hiking or skiing after his death. She never told anyone that he had proposed… or that she had said no. It was ridiculous to think she had anything to do with his death, but she felt guilty that her last conversation with him had been to tell him she didn’t love him.
When she did finally go out and about, she wandered around the Air Force base where her mom and dad both worked. She knew a lot of the people stationed there, and called many of them friends. Exactly a month after Darryl’s death, she bumped into his father – also an Air Force pilot. He didn’t say anything at first. He couldn’t. He just hugged her as they both began to cry.
“Coffee?” he finally asked through a constricted throat.
“Sure,” she’d answered.
They walked in silence, their shoes clicking on the industrial tile floor. He ushered her into the break room and motioned toward an instant, single-cup coffee maker.
“Choose your poison,” he said, smiling.
“Hmmm, Vanilla cappuccino sounds good.”
Darryl’s dad popped a pod into the machine, placed a coffee mug under the spout, and pushed the start button.
“So,” he said, but didn’t turn around, “how’ve you been?”
Becky paused for a second and then spouted the typical response.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” he said knowingly. “Me too.”
They talked for a few awkward minutes about Darryl and how much they missed him. The conversation never edged toward Darryl’s marriage proposal, but after his death the details of him buying the ring had emerged. Thankfully, no one asked her about it.
“So, what’s next for you?” he asked out of the blue. “College? Work?”
Becky was taken aback by how little she’d been thinking about that lately. She’d been so focused on how depressing losing Darryl was that she hadn’t thought about what was next at all.
“I… I don’t know.”
“You should think about an art college, or something like that,” he said, pointing at several of her sketches on the wall. “You’re really good, you know?”
She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. It wasn’t a half bad idea.
She raced home and began researching art schools, and soon found SCAD. Figuring that Savannah, Georgia was about as far away from Alaska as she could get, she applied. Her parents were fully supportive of her decision, aware how hard Darryl’s death had been on her and hoping this would be a new, positive direction for Becky, and shipped her off with little more than a suitcase… and her snowshoes. She’d said she wanted to hang them on the wall to remind her of Alaska… and Darryl.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Becky said, leaning back and taking a deep breath.”
Ray
Ray was grinning from ear to ear. “Congratulations, Becky-san,” he said, kind of looking in her direction. “You have defeated the shape-shifter troll and the townspeople are so grateful. You have earned one-thousand in gold and one-hundred experience points.”
“Hot damn,” she exclaimed, “that’s awesome!”
“Yeah,” Alain said, crumpling his character sheet, “soooo awesome that we all died but you.”
“Not cool, RayRay.” Samantha was shaking her head. “I mean, how the hell were we supposed to know that Sir William was actually the shape-shifting troll?”
“Did you not notice that they both only had one eye?” RayRay asked incredulously.
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Alain stood up. “Dude, I’m outta here. I’ve got a painting to finish.”
“Yeah, me too,” Samantha said, and stretched her arms high above her head and yawned.
“I gotta hit the gym,” Becky said, jumping up and clapping her hands together. “See ya later, losers.”
“The gym,” Alain asked. “What’s that all about?”
“I didn’t tell you guys?” she asked, surprised. “It’s official. I’m going to be on the U.S.A. Ninja Challenge show!”
“What the hell?” Samantha arched an eyebrow. “You ain’t no ninja.”
Alain snorted.
“That is fantastic, Becky-san,” RayRay said as he began putting away his campaign-master gear.
“I’ve been training hard,” Becky retorted, and jutted her chin toward Alain and Samantha. “You watch, I’m gonna hit that buzzer.”
“Uh huh,” Samantha said, “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Hey, I’m pretty strong. I used to hike, climb, and ski the mountains up north of Anchorage all the time, and that takes a lot of strength.”
“This is true, Becky-san.” RayRay stood up and found his cane. “You’ll be a good warrior.”
“Thanks, RayRay,” she said. “You guys can all catch up to me when I’m on TV.”
The Complete Troy Bodean Tropical Thriller Collection Page 73