Phoenix

by Eden Maguire

  u cannot be serious! Jordan said.

  when? where 2? call me! Zoey insisted.

  I turned off my phone without replying.

  “We have to be out of here Sunday,” Laura told me early Wednesday morning, after I’d slept on my return from Foxton. She handed me a black garbage bag. “Go through your closet, throw out anything you don’t need.”

  I went into my room, sat on the bed, and heard her scraping furniture across the floor and dumping stuff in boxes until Jim came back and took her off to sign papers in the realtor’s office. Then I stared at the pots of makeup on my table and my necklaces hanging to one side of the mirror, and for some reason, the small white fear-stone with the hole in it—the one in Kim Reiss’s dish of pebbles—came into my head and wouldn’t go away.

  “Hey, you’re only moving!” I muttered. How could I be scared by putting things in boxes after all the Beautiful Dead drama I’d been through?

  Exactly! Arizona-in-my-head said. What’s the big deal?

  Summer-in-my-head saw beneath the surface. Moving is always stressful, she said gently. This is the last thing Darina needs right now.

  “Thanks,” I told her. Then someone knocked at the door, and I went down to answer it.

  “Can I come in?” Sharon Rohr asked.

  I swear she didn’t come to my house with the exact aim of yelling at me and telling me how much she hated me. She probably thought she could hold herself together and have a rational conversation expressing her point of view, but it turned out she couldn’t.

  She was hardly through the door before her voice cracked. “I’m here for one reason, and only one,” she began.

  I nodded, stepped back, and let her walk into the kitchen. “Zak’s with his dad—you got the news?”

  “I heard. Don’t expect any thanks from me.”

  “I don’t.” Trying hard not to provoke her, I switched on the coffee machine. “At least it beats hanging out with Nathan Stone.”

  “Says who?” This was Sharon’s first ever visit to my house, and she was looking around, taking in the packing boxes and bare walls. “Since when did my lousy ex suddenly gain the status of good influence?”

  “I hear you, but if it’s a choice between drug dealers and—”

  “Darina, you don’t get it.” She stopped taking in her surroundings and came close. “What you have to understand is that what you think doesn’t matter anymore. What I came here to say is—you’re out of our lives, if you were ever in it.”

  “That’s what you came here to tell me?” I got out coffee cups with trembling hands, swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I was only trying—”

  Sharon raised both hands as if pushing me away.

  “Don’t try. Don’t speak. Listen to me. You are responsible for a lot of bad things in my life, and this latest is pretty hard to swallow. I never in a million years thought I would lose Zak to my ex-husband.”

  In the background the coffee machine swished and gurgled. Sharon’s words knocked me so far off balance I was speechless. I stared silently at her face—not pale and guarded as usual, but sparking anger. In fact, she seemed in all ways more energized, someone to take notice of at last, after a lifetime of being walked over.

  “I mean, where was Michael all these years? How can Zak walk out on me to be with him?”

  “You wish I’d never shown Michael where Zak was hanging out?” I whispered.

  “Exactly!” she hissed. “Just like I wish you’d never gotten together with Phoenix in the first place.”

  “Stop,” I pleaded. She’d crossed the line—no way was I staying silent after this. “I’m sorry you feel this way—I really am. But you have to stop blaming me.”

  “Why? You trapped him. After he went with you, he stopped making his own decisions. He didn’t live his own life.”

  I shook my head and told it like it was. “I didn’t hook Phoenix on a line—he was free, and he chose me. We were happy.”

  Sharon reacted like I’d hit her in the stomach, hunching her skinny shoulders and crossing her arms to protect herself.

  “He chose me,” I repeated. “And Zak didn’t just go to stay with Michael because I persuaded him. He went because staying in your house was messing with his head.”

  She drew breath then sat down on the one chair that wasn’t piled high with boxes. “How can you say that?”

  “Those were his words, not mine. I don’t think you know how tough this has been for Zak.”

  “I look out for him. I work hard at it.”

  “I’m not saying you don’t. But I guess he’s listened to one too many fights—between you and Michael before he left, then between you and Brandon, you and Phoenix, now you and him. That’s it, he’s through with arguing.”

  “So now I’m the bad guy?” She gasped.

  “No. You were fighting to hold it together, raising three boys—I appreciate that. But maybe Zak doesn’t see it that way, not right now. And he was hurting and hanging out with the wrong people.”

  What I was saying seemed to get through to Sharon.

  “How come I couldn’t find a way to stop it from happening? It’s like they slid into that, one by one—first Brandon, then Phoenix, now Zak.”

  “All kids look for trouble,” I argued. “A few get caught.”

  Sharon bit her lip and looked back over the recent family history. “They stuck a label on us right from the start. ‘The Rohrs are back in town. Watch out, it means trouble.’”

  “I think that’s right. That’s the way Phoenix saw it, too.”

  She sat up straight and looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. “He talked to you about family problems?”

  “Yeah, we covered just about everything, him and me.”

  That’s love. That’s finding your soul mate. “I was lucky.”

  “I never knew that.” She sighed. “Sure, I could see why he was attracted to you—you’re a beautiful girl. But I thought it was skin-deep.”

  “You didn’t think it would last?” I smiled sadly. It’s lasted way beyond the grave, let me tell you.

  “He was so young. You were his first real girl.”

  “So you have to forgive me,” I told her with a shrug.

  “For what?”

  “For coming into Phoenix’s life.”

  Closing her eyes, Sharon let out a short laugh, and in that moment, some of the bad feeling she had toward me seemed to melt away. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “And I’ll tell you something else.”

  She opened her eyes and looked expectantly at me.

  “If you want my opinion, Zak won’t stay long in Michael’s apartment. He’ll come home to you—I bet you a million bucks.”

  Sometimes the voices in my head speak louder than real life. After Sharon left for Michael’s apartment to enter into negotiations with her ex, I drove out of town to the eco-burial site where Byron Lavelle had laid Logan to rest.

  Why here? Arizona-in-my-head asked as I parked my car among the tall redwoods and walked up the hill.

  Back off, Arizona. Darina needs some time to think. This was Jonas talking from the place where the Beautiful Dead finally go. She loves it here. It’s so peaceful.

  It’s true—I do. The tall trees rise straight and meet overhead like a cathedral roof. The granite rocks sparkle pink, silver, and white.

  I feel close to Logan here.

  “Who’d have thought it?” I murmured to him. “Sharon Rohr is speaking to me. At last I’m not the enemy.”

  Logan wasn’t Beautiful Dead, but that didn’t stop me from talking to him. When he was alive, he was the closest thing to a brother I’d ever known. He was the grounded, sensible one whose advice I resented, the kid I’d known since kindergarten.

  “She’s visiting Zak as we speak,” I went on, gazing up at the swaying bra
nches. “She and Michael will have to work together to help him through this period. Zak will have to face a few facts about the way he’s been acting.”

  Crazy-girl Darina, Arizona laughed.

  Go ahead—Logan hears you, Jonas urged.

  “The rest is pretty scary,” I admitted. “There’s talk of civil war inside Oscar Thorne’s drug gang, and no one will stand up and tell the truth. That’s what’s getting in my way right now.”

  Sitting cross-legged under the trees, I breathed in the smell of pine needles and resin. I remembered Logan—the way he drove me mad by showing up on my porch with advice and support. And I saw his face and open smile under the mop of brown curly hair.

  “What would you do?” I asked him. “Would you go after the two Harley guys, or would you put more pressure on others who were there—Zak, Brandon, Nathan, maybe even the girl behind the cash desk again? I have two days to do this, remember.”

  Logan would say, be safe. Look out for yourself. Arizona was right, of course. She was always the smartest person I knew.

  “Being safe isn’t an option,” I argued. “That’s what I told Dean and Phoenix. Doesn’t it seem weird to you, how Phoenix doesn’t get how I feel? This is the first time it’s happened, and it’s driving me crazy.”

  For once no one responded with an answer, and I had to find comfort in just staring up at the patterns the branches made against the blue sky. I wanted support, advice, and encouragement, but it was clear this time that I would have to decide for myself.

  In the end I left Logan’s burial site and decided to track down the youngest Rohr. Zak had the most reasons to agree to talk to me, if only I could get him to see it this way after Sharon had paid him the visit she’d been planning. What I didn’t predict was that the thing had turned into a full-scale family conference, Brandon included.

  I knocked on the door of apartment 209.

  Brandon opened it. “You should get a job at the United Nations,” he told me.

  I had to think this one through before I understood what he was getting at. “Ha—funny! Is Zak here?”

  “Bro, here comes the peace broker,” he called over his shoulder, ready to step out of my way then suddenly changing his mind. “So it looks like you got free access to the Rohrs. I don’t know what you did, but Mom has done a U-turn. She suddenly has you down as flavor of the month.”

  “Is she still here?” I asked. As usual, Brandon set my nerves on edge with his suspicious tone and the mocking curl of his lip.

  “She already left.”

  “What did they decide?”

  “Zak stays here until Sunday then they all talk again about him moving back to the house.” He leaned against the doorframe, muscles looking pumped under his white T-shirt. “Congratulations, Darina. It looks like the kid is back walking the line.”

  “What about Michael? Is he home?”

  Brandon shook his head. “He’s playing golf. You know, I’ve been thinking maybe you were right about something—you don’t need me to look after you anymore. It seems you’re all grown up now.”

  “Why do I think that’s not a compliment?” I asked warily. With Brandon there was always the chance of a below-the-belt blow to follow. “Does this mean you want the car back?”

  “Oh, Darina, that’s so not cool.” He faked disappointment that I could be so petty. “The car comes with no strings. All I’m saying is that it’s been a year now, like we said, and I can’t be your babysitter forever.”

  “No matter what you promised Phoenix?” I said without meaning to. The sly words just slipped out.

  If he was hurt, Brandon didn’t show it. “Whoa, what happened to the diplomacy skills? Yeah, whatever I said to my brother, I figure I kept that promise, and it’s time for you to take care of yourself.”

  “I totally agree,” I muttered. Don’t do me any favors. Don’t think that I need you in any way whatsoever!

  With a satisfied grin, Brandon launched himself free of the doorjamb and brushed past me. “Don’t pressurize the kid,” he warned with a nod over his shoulder toward the living room. “Zak is still on a short fuse, so don’t push him—OK?”

  I gritted my teeth and let Brandon go. He was halfway down the corridor, heading for the escalator when he remembered something else. “Russell Bishop was here,” he said casually.

  “To play golf with Michael?” Why should this mean anything to me?

  “Yeah, Ralph Lauren–man. He had an interesting piece of news that he wanted to share.”

  “Which was?”

  “Early this morning, the cops went to Nathan Thorne’s house and arrested him for drugs. I thought you should know.”

  I went inside, and Zak made it plain that he wasn’t excited to see me. He lay sprawled in the one brown chair in front of a small TV screen, hardly bothering to turn his head when I said hi.

  “I heard the news about Nathan,” I said to grab Zak’s attention away from the cartoon channel. Actually, I was shocked that Sheriff Kors had acted, presumably, on the information I’d provided. Come back, Brandon—I need you to look out for me after all! was one of my first thoughts.

  “You talked to the cops,” Zak muttered, eyes still glued to the screen.

  “Not me,” I lied.

  “Yeah, you did.” The velour chair was on a swivel base, and he turned it to face me. “That’s how come they arrested him.”

  “So what if I did? Everyone knows Nathan Thorne is heading the same way as his brother.” Somehow saying this and bringing it out into the open eased the tension between us. “I’m glad you were only on the edge of that scene at the trailer. Plus, it was cool I knew where to find you a couple of days back. Maybe now things will work out for you.”

  Zak did the Rohr shrug and brought Phoenix’s image flooding into my head.

  Keep talking, Darina, Phoenix said, as if he was right there, backing every word. Zak listens to you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

  “Phoenix would be happy,” I told Zak. “He would want you out of that trailer, back with your family.”

  Another shrug. “Mom and Dad are talking again,” he said. “How about that?”

  “I know. I’m shocked—in a good way.”

  “He says he can give her an allowance.”

  “Is that what she wants?”

  “To send me to college when I reach eighteen. He had a security job in Berlin. That’s how come he saved the dough.”

  “Cool. And is that what you want?”

  “Engineering school would be good, I guess. Building roads and bridges. I need to go back to school first though. Mom’s gonna talk to Valenti.”

  “All excellent,” I said. “Zak—that’s so cool.”

  “It didn’t happen yet,” he warned. “The principal could tell Mom no.”

  “But it’s a plan.” Did you hear that, Phoenix? Your baby brother is getting a life!

  “After school—what will you do?” Zak asked me out of the blue.

  “College, I guess.” Not that I thought about my future. “Honestly, I get through each day, that’s all.”

  He nodded. “Almost a year.” He sighed.

  “A year tomorrow.” I plunged deep into my own worst fear. “And we still don’t know. I think if we knew…a name, a clear picture…”

  “You want me to help you out?”

  “Zak, yes! Whatever you know, you have to share.”

  “OK. I was in the car with Phoenix. He stopped for gas.” Slowly he ran through the events, pausing as if his memory jolted and skidded over certain details. “It was Friday night, the pumps were busy, Phoenix was running late. A guy on a Harley pushed into the line ahead of him. Phoenix didn’t like that. He swore at the guy, and we switched lines, pulled up at the next pump alongside Nathan. Phoenix asked Nathan if he could step ahead of him in the new line.”

  “And N
athan was driving his Chevy, is that right?”

  “I guess.” Zak frowned with the effort of trying to remember.

  “Was anyone in the car with him? Were Taylor and Jacob there?”

  “Yeah, but not with Nathan. They were hanging out with some other kids from Forest Lake. Nathan was with Robert Black and Vince Hall. That was the day Hall sold Nathan the Chevy.”

  “OK, so Nathan tells Phoenix no way can he go ahead at the pump. Is there any chance that while they were having this conversation, either Black or Hall were trying to reclaim a forgotten stash of cocaine in Nathan’s car? Is that what kicked off the fight in the first place?”

  Instead of prodding his memory, my questions seemed to block Zak and his frown deepened. “Who told you that?”

  “Nobody. It’s a police theory. If these guys were arguing over a hidden drug stash, that could have caused things to turn violent. Is that what you saw?”

  “If it happened, I didn’t see it,” he admitted, still looking blocked and confused.

  I prompted again. “And maybe Brandon noticed what was happening from across the lot—guys starting to fight over drugs, with Phoenix and you both too close for comfort…”

  “Back off!” Suddenly Zak stood up. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  I drew a sharp breath, turned away then back again. “Try, Zak,” I pleaded. “You were there. Give me a name, a reason…”

  “No, you don’t understand. I can’t help you.”

  “Why not? What don’t I understand?”

  “Sure, I was there until Nathan and Phoenix got into their argument, then Brandon came over.”

  “And?”

  “Brandon was yelling at Hall and Black—they were still near the Chevy. I didn’t hear what he said. Then he turned and yelled for me to leave. He said—exact words, ‘Get out of here, Zak—go home, now!’”

  “And?” I said quietly, feeling my head spin and my heart thud with disappointment.

  “I did—I ran away,” he admitted. The kid had been living with this guilt for almost a year. “I did what Brandon told me, but I should’ve stayed.”

  “Why?” I murmured.

  “To help my brother,” he whispered back. “If I’d been there, I could’ve stopped it from happening. Phoenix would still be alive.”