“Wrong answer.” Harvis grabbed Naz by the shoulder.
Naz jerked away. “What’s wrong with you, man?”
“Oh, a little fight in ya … at least more than Saturday.”
“Whatever.” Naz turned and walked away. “Leave … me … alone.”
“You don’t look so tough to me, definitely not a monster.” He grabbed Naz by the arm this time.
Naz snatched away. “I’m warning you.”
“About what? You gonna beat me up like you did Saturday.” Harvis went into an exaggerated martial arts stance and then started dancing around. “I’m soooo scared.”
“Why are you doing this?” Naz yelled.
“Because D needs you!”
Naz put his head down. “She doesn’t need me.”
“What?”
“I told her I wouldn’t bother her again, and she laughed.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“True story. She probably ran away with her mother.”
“You need to get your head out of your—”
“Stop it!”
Harvis smacked Naz in the face.
Naz brought his hand to his cheek. “You hit me?”
“There’s more where that came from.” Harvis got into a serious fighting stance.
“I’m not fighting you.”
“No, you weren’t fighting me Saturday. I’m gonna make you fight me today.” He jabbed Naz in the nose, blinding him. Then he collared Naz and forced him up against the cemetery fence.
“Did you see the flyer?”
“I saw it!”
“Did you even read it? She’s missing, you idiot. She was on her way to see you, and somebody snatched her. She told you she needed some time.” He threw Naz on the ground. “You don’t deserve her. Get up!” He grabbed Naz by the collar again and drew his fist back.
Naz flexed inside his mind and stopped the punch, midair.
Harvis looked at his fist and then at Naz. “So that’s what that feels like.”
He lifted Naz to his feet and immediately threw another punch, which Naz used his hand to block with ease.
“Now that’s more like it.” He continued throwing kicks and punches relentlessly, Naz blocking every one of them.
“Stop it.” Naz continued blocking Harvis’ attack, never throwing one of his own. He finally held Harvis at bay with his mind. “You heard what I told Meri. I’m an animal, dangerous. I almost killed those cops.”
“You didn’t.”
“What?”
“You didn’t!”
“What about last year, all those times? What if you weren’t around?”
“But I was.” Harvis sprang to attack position again, apparently realizing Naz had released him.
Naz put his hands up ready to defend himself. “What about Roffio and his gang?”
“You didn’t kill ’em; they died in the fire.”
“And Bearn?!”
“That son of a bitch had it comin’.” Harvis lowered his hands.
“But you said, we don’t get to decide.”
“I was wrong. Naz … sometimes people die. That’s just the way it is. It’s our job to make sure the good ones don’t.”
Naz shook his head. “It’s not my job.”
“It is your job.” Harvis pointed at Naz. “That’s why we came back.”
“That’s why you came.”
“You came back to find out who killed Meri.” Harvis looked through the fence into the cemetery. “How’s that working out? Show me your list of suspects.”
Naz shrugged.
“We all have gifts, and we all get so angry sometimes we wanna hurt people. That’s what you call normal. We calm down. We talk to ourselves. We get back to work. You know the drill. It’s our … it’s your responsibility to use your gifts to help others. D needs your help.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re the only one that can help her.”
“I … I can’t!” Naz walked away.
“Naz.”
Naz looked back and then kept walking.
“You were wrong. You are a good liar. You had us all fooled, especially, D. She really believed you when you said that you loved her more and that you’d die a thousand times to protect her.”
Naz turned around. Harvis walked away.
“What does he know.” Naz walked for a while pondering what Harvis had said. “How does he know … what I said?” Naz pulled his phone out as he walked. It was dead. He would charge it when he got home to see if he had missed something. He pulled the papers out of his pocket. He read the rest of the flyer.
Date Missing: March 28
Last seen location: Marshal Park, IL on the way to MeeChi’s Market Merchant
If you have seen this person, please call 312.555.5042
“She was on her way to MeeChi’s.”
He finally looked at the envelope Mr. Tesla had given him, his name printed in Times New Roman font on it. He tore it open and read the note printed in the same font.
Maybe you’re not so smart after all.
“What does that mean?” He put the note back in his pocket.
As soon as Naz got to MeeChi’s, he plugged in his phone. He checked his messages. There was one from Mr. Tesla about a shipment coming in. Mr. Tesla mentioned it Saturday … and Sunday, I think. There were four messages from Harvis on Sunday.
“What time,” “Naz,” “Whats up,” and “I know you heard bout D.”
And one from Harvis this morning when Naz was on the way to school.
Im comin over after school
And there was one from D this morning, actually about an hour ago. Naz relaxed. The text read,
Maybe you’re not so smart after all.
“Huh? Why would she say that?” He read it again, this time out loud. “Maybe you’re not so smart after all,” and it hit him.
Naz pulled the paper out of his pocket and read it again. She didn’t send this text; whoever sent this note, sent this text, the same person that has her. He sat on his bed. Who has her? Why? And they know me? I have to figure this out. I’m supposed to be smart, a genius with a twist, Dr. Gwen once said. He sat back on his bed, tried to empty his mind and not panic. But for the first time in a long time, he was afraid, afraid for D, and he was desperate to help her.
Naz ran all the way over to D’s house. He didn’t estimate the distance or his pace; he just did it as fast as he could. When he arrived, he was soaking wet. He didn’t care about his first run-in with Mr. Dinwiddie three days earlier. He had questions that needed answering—now!
He rang the doorbell, and when there was no immediate answer, he knocked. He started to knock again, but Mrs. Dinwiddie opened the door.
“Naz, come in.”
Naz walked in, pulling the flyer out of his pocket at the same time. He handed it to her, not really knowing what to say. She wore a white apron over a blue knee-length dress and twisted a dishtowel. Mr. Dinwiddie was nowhere to be found.
“So you don’t know anything,” said Mrs. Dinwiddie.
Naz shook his head. “She said she was on her way to MeeChi’s?”
“Not exactly, but she did leave Saturday afternoon. She didn’t say where she was going. I just assumed. That’s all she ever talks about is you.”
“Did you call the police?” asked Naz.
“Well, yes … but … what are they going to do? The school, too.” She looked at the flyer in her hand and then handed it back to him.
Naz looked down.
“They asked if she had a boyfriend.” She looked at him.
Naz’s head shot up.
“W-We told them no.” She continued twisting the towel in her hand.
Naz couldn’t tell if she was afraid of him or concerned about their daughter.
“They would’ve only harassed you, and I know you had nothing to do with this. Naz, have you talked to her?” she asked.
Naz slowly shook his head.
“Well, she probably just ran awa
y, and we’ll hear from her soon. You know her older sister ran away.”
Naz nodded. He refrained from showing her the letters he had received from Mr. Tesla and Harvis. They would only end up in police hands and invariably lead back to him. Harvis was right—I’m the only one that can help her.
“Mrs. Dinwiddie.” Naz looked the woman in her eyes, his chest out. “I’ll find her. I promise.”
She smiled and nodded, the towel in her hands twisted to the limit.
BACK AT MEECHIS Naz sat on his bed. He shook his head, took slow deep breaths, and tried again, to no avail, to empty his mind. He kept at it, realizing this was his only course of action. He remembered Harvis’ words again. ‘You’re the only one that can help her.’—but what to do? I wasn’t lying when I said I would die a thousand times to protect her but how? He tried this for hours until Mr. Tesla interrupted him.
He was sitting on the bed next to Naz. “Do you need help with something?”
He startled Naz. Naz wasn’t sure if Mr. Tesla knew about D or about any of the things that were going on, but he could sure use some wisdom right about now. “I’m trying to solve a problem, and…” Naz bounced his leg in frustration. “I’m not sure how to go about it. I’m not even sure it has a solution.” The volume of Naz’s voice rose involuntarily.
“Easy! Every problem has a solution. Are you meditating?”
“I’m trying to.” Naz calmed down a bit.
“Don’t try; just do it. Make sure you are completely relaxed.”
“OK.”
“Breathe slowly, deeply, and deliberately.”
Naz nodded, taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes.
“Don’t run away from the problem. Think about it from every possible angle.”
“OK.”
“I’ll be back in an hour.”
Naz thought about D, Harvis, his abilities, Meri, Fears, Soul, Ham, Pharaoh, the knife fight, Roffio, The Incubus Apostles, Bearn, Camille, Cory, The Chess Master, Tone, D’s Father, Pauling, and Dr. Gwen.
It seemed like only minutes passed, and Mr. Tesla had returned.
“Well, you’ve had two hours to think about it,” said Mr. Tesla.
“It’s been two hours?”
“Yes, a little more.”
“And I have nothing.” Naz clenched his jaw as his temper flared again.
“You have everything. Now is the time to clear your mind and trust that the answer will reveal itself.”
“But—”
“Do it.” Mr. Tesla left the booth again.
Naz resumed meditating, breathing deeply and pushing every thought from his mind. But it didn’t take long before something crept in—Ham and then, Harvis.
He stood up and paced the small room. It was getting late. He looked through the two-way mirror. Mr. Tesla closed the store down. He pounded his fist into his palm—not Ham again—and then took deep breaths and a little time to calm himself. No matter what happens, I can’t let emotions of any kind cloud my judgment, or I will fail D, fail Meri, fail myself. He pledged he would use his gifts to his advantage, to help the ones he loved.
Mr. Tesla opened the door. “How is it going?”
“Good,” said Naz. “Thank you.”
Mr. Tesla nodded. “I’ve closed up and will see you in the morning. Getting a good night’s sleep will give you a clearer head in the morning.”
“I will, Mr. Tesla … go to bed soon.”
When he sat down again and thought about Ham calmly, he couldn’t find a motive other than spite, and from what he’d seen from Ham since he’d been back, there was none, at least none on the surface. But there was one thing his deliberation did bring; Ham had told him that day in the burning church house that they weren’t the target in the knife fight, Naz was, and that Meri wasn’t the one that was supposed to open the door that electrocuted her, Naz was.
It was the same here. Whoever had taken D was after Naz. The message, ‘maybe you’re not so smart after all,’ made that clear—then why not just come after me? It must be the same people. Harvis said this day would come. Why am I always putting other people in danger? It’s not about me; it’s about D. Mr. Tesla was right; a good night’s sleep was a good idea.
He convinced himself that D was in no danger and typed a text message for Ham—I’ll eliminate him in the morning. He gave a devious smirk at his choice of words.
I need to talk to u
Ham sent back immediately,
When where
Naz responded,
tomorrow mornin’ where we use to meet
Ham replied,
Fasho
Patience had never been one of his virtues, but he had become familiar with logic via Harvis and positive thinking courtesy of Fears. D had been gone two full days, but there was nothing more he could do. Worry would only work against him. He took Mr. Tesla’s advice. He cleared his mind as best he could, and exhaustion from the past few days finally put him to sleep.
“NAZ!”
“D!” Naz jumped up and looked around.
“Naz,” D said again.
Her voice came from the back of the store. Naz shot out of the booth, slipping and stumbling down most of the stairs. He turned to see D sitting alone in the back of the… He looked around, but there was nothing, no aisles, no register, no Tone, even the booth was gone. There was just D in a chair, looking straight ahead, well-lit from above and the darkness that surrounded her. He knew then he was dreaming, and he didn’t want to wake up—I found her.
“D,” Naz called to her.
But there was no response.
“D,” he called again, walking toward her. The more he walked the farther away she appeared. He ran, and the distance between them increased faster.
“D,” Naz yelled.
The faster he ran, the faster her image shrank until she was gone. He sat up in his bed drenched with sweat, fighting for air, reaching out for something that wasn’t there.
He jumped up, grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, and drank it all on his way downstairs to the bathroom. He splashed his face repeatedly and then looked in the mirror. He hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time since—since I lost D. Damn! He thought about his mother when he cursed—sorry, but I don’t know what to do. His eyes appeared sunken in with dark rings around them.
Naz accepted this torture as something he would have to endure until he found D.
Nothing mattered on the streets today. Naz had tossed and turned the rest of the sleepless night, but he was energized just the same. He was on a mission, determined to find D. When he turned the corner, Ham stood in the middle of the block shuffling from side to side. As Naz approached, Ham leaned against a light post. He wore dark sunglasses, which caused Naz to look up and take note of the overcast sky.
“Why the sunglasses?”
Ham shrugged. A dark purple bruise peeked out from under the left lens. They walked in the direction of Union.
“¿Entonces que hay de nuevo?” asked Naz.
“Nada. ¿Quién es tu profesor, Quesada o Lehmann?”
“Uh … Quesada.”
“¡Bueno!”
“How come you didn’t finish the season?” asked Naz.
“I wasn’t gettin’ any playin’ time anyway. Coach didn’t mind, so I figured I’d wait ’til next season when Soul and Harvis play. You gonna play?”
“Not sure yet. Probably.”
“Man, you should. It’d be fun.”
“How’s your brothers and sisters?”
“They good. Carlos is comin’ to Union next year.”
“I thought he was in the sixth last year.”
“He was. Sucker’s smart, man. He got double promoted.”
“He play ball?”
“Naw … all books for Los. I’m proud of dat kid.”
“What about Vic-vic—”
“Victoria? I ain’t seen her since Lincoln, man.”
Ham recognized someone and stopped to shake his hand. Naz smiled as he
recalled Ham’s ability to master the latest handshakes with ease.
“¿Qué pasa, Mateo? ¿Cómo es Matías?” Ham continued his handshake.
The boy nodded and then fired back, “Muy bien, muy bien.”
That was all Naz could understand as Ham and the boy exchanged a few more words, a man-hug, and the boy walked on.
“I got it right that time. I never know if I’m talking to that kid or his twin, they look so much alike,” said Ham.
The two continued their small talk until Naz reached his destination.
“Remember this spot, Ham?”
It was the spot where Naz was first confronted by Roffio and Ham had gotten stabbed.
“I remember. Why are we here?”
“I come here all the time. You?”
“No.” Ham fidgeted, looking around on the ground.
“I come here to remember. Sometimes I come here ’cause I can’t forget. This is where it all started. Únete a nosotros. Sometimes I hear that in my dreams. Sometimes it wakes me up.”
“Why we here, Naz?”
“’Cause I need your help.”
“Anything.”
“I need you to remember everything.”
“OK.”
“You know about D?”
“Aw, man yeah, I’m sorry, Naz … but you don’t think I had anything to do with that because—”
“Ham!” Naz put up his hand. “I have to ask you. What do you know about D missing, about who has her?”
“I-I don’t know anything. I swear.”
Naz didn’t have to read Ham’s mind or even look into his eyes to know he was telling the truth.
“That’s good, Ham. I believe you.” Naz nodded.
They shook hands, but Naz kept his physical and emotional distance. A man-hug was out of the question.
“Now, Ham, I need you to think back to that day Roffio jumped us and the weeks that passed up to that day they died in the fire.”
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