A Split in Time

by Vin Carver

  BANG

  Warren’s ears rang. He turned his head to the side and scraped his cheek on the rough carpet. The living room tilted, and he saw his backpack next to the fireplace. Yelling came from his bedroom and blended with the ringing in his ears. He kicked the chair off his legs and patted his body, feeling for a gunshot wound. Paul had missed.

  Warren crawled to the fireplace and looped an arm through his backpack. The ringing in his ears went away, and he stood up. With the bag of ashes in one arm, and his backpack in the other, he ran to the front door.

  His dad said, “Oh my God. What have you done? You dumb son-of-a—”

  Paul said, “Stay back, sir. I order you to stay back. I’ve got this under control.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Scratch-N-Sniff Stickers

  Warren bounded down the front steps of his house and sprinted into the street. Headlights blinded him, and Brenda’s car screeched to a stop. He put out his hand and ran around the front. Cradling the plastic bag under his left arm, he reached for the passenger door with his right—a perfect Heisman.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Brenda said.

  Warren jumped in the passenger seat. Brenda smelled like apricots, but not the kind from the grocery store, more like the kind used to make scratch-n-sniff stickers. She twisted her lips in a smirk. “Nice to see you wearing clothes, Warren.”

  “What? Go, Brenda. Please. Go.”

  “Eww.” She pinched her nostrils. “Maybe you shouldn’t wear clothes if they’re going to make you stink so bad.”

  Warren caught a whiff of his hoodie, and he couldn’t wait to get to Tanner’s. He slapped the dashboard and thrust a finger at the driveway. “Look.”

  “Is that Paul’s cop car? He’s kind of cute, but he’s still a toothpick, don’t you think?” She turned toward Warren and scrunched her face. “Wait. You’re like in trouble, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I’m in trouble. Can we go?” Any moment, Paul—that over-compensating, stick-man—would appear on the porch, draw is gun, and shoot. Brenda just sat there with a silly grin on her face. “Come on Brenda, hit it. We’ve got to go.”

  The sports car purred like the kitten driving it, and they headed toward Lake Forest.

  Brenda said, “OMG, that was so exciting. I feel all tingly.” The crazy glint in her eyes confirmed her Pollack ancestry.

  Warren craned his neck, and the Renner house, along with Paul’s cop car, disappeared behind the hill.

  “What’s in the bag? Are those drugs?” She oozed sarcasm. “Is that coke?”

  Warren gazed at the bag of ashes. “No. This is my brothe…”

  A piece of Cameron’s bone poked through the plastic. Warren caressed the point with his thumb and turned to her. “This is just a bag of ashes.”

  Brenda squinted and bit her lower lip. She glanced at the bag, back at the road, and then back at the bag.

  Warren said, “Did you see the fire yesterday?”

  Brenda put her eyes on the road. “Yeah, duh. Everybody saw it. They’re saying that’s why you didn’t come to school.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Brenda eased off the gas. “They’re saying you started the forest fire, but now it looks like you're a drug dealer.”

  “What? No. These are just ashes.” He pulled his backpack off and unzipped the main pocket. The car bounced onto Melody Lane, and the bag flew off his lap. He reached out and kept it from exploding into a cloud of creepiness. He shoved it into his backpack next to the bag of love letters and zipped the pocket shut. “And I didn’t start the fire.” Warren averted his eyes. “But I did go there this morning to get these ashes. I need them for a science project.”

  Brenda put the tip of her tongue on the bottom of her upper teeth. “If that’s true, then you’re not a fire starter. You’re a geek.”

  Warren said, “Are you going home?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “No reason.” Warren gazed into the forest and wondered if the tree fort was still there.

  “So, like really. What’s going on? Are you running away or something?”

  Right now, the other Warren—Nirvana Warren—was sitting in a hot tub with his parent’s, discussing the kind car he’d like to have.

  Is it running away if you take your own place?

  Warren said, “I’m not running away.”

  “Well, you should.”

  “Why?”

  “Everyone at school is saying you started the fire, and I don’t think those are ashes. You’re a little drug dealer.” She laughed.

  Warren's nostrils flared. He put his backpack on the floor, and his hands over his face.

  “Calm down,” she said. “I’m just kidding.” Warren turned his head. The glint in Brenda’s eyes turned into concern. She said, “I’m sorry.”

  Thump.

  The car hit a pothole and the glove compartment popped open. Brenda reached over to shut it, but she was too late. They swerved into the oncoming lane, and a bag of weed—a big bag of weed—fell onto Warren’s lap. She over-steered, and the bag slid between Warren’s seat and the center console.

  Warren grinned. “What’s in the bag? Drugs?”

  Brenda’s face turned red. “Yeah, drugs. I told you I had connections.”

  “Why do you have so much?”

  She focused on the road and cleared her throat. The road turned to the left, and she squeezed the steering wheel at ten and two o’clock. She smiled and gunned the accelerator around the corner. Warren’s body pressed against the door. She straightened the car, and Warren’s body pressed against hers.

  “Sorry,” Warren said.

  Brenda grinned. “It’s for school.”

  “What is?”

  “That weed. I need it for a baked sale.” The crazy glint had returned, and she ran her fingers through her hair. “You won’t tell anyone, will you? I’ll give you some if you want.”

  Like all the Pollacks, Brenda had perfect teeth. She smiled at Warren and he tried to smile back. He wasn’t sure when she had become so pretty, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t part of the plan. “Your secret is safe with me. I just want to talk to Tanner.” Warren lowered his head and pulled his backpack up off the floor.

  Brenda sped into the empty driveway with reckless abandon and slammed on the brakes. She shut the car off and put her hand on Warren’s shoulder. “Hey. I was just kidding back there. If you’re in trouble, for anything, I’ll help you.”

  Warren shrugged. “Thanks Brenda, but it’s okay. I have a plan.”

  Brenda popped her door open and stepped onto the driveway. Warren got out and walked toward the deck.

  “Warren, wait. There’s something else.” He turned toward her. “Big Sharon asked about you today.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah. She asked me where you were.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  Brenda shrugged her shoulders and wrinkled her nose. “I told her nothing. No one talks to Big Sharon.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  In A Relationship

  Brenda got back in her car and disappeared beneath the dashboard. Warren walked up onto the deck, raised his hand to knock, and pulled it back. His parents and the Pollacks didn’t hang out together, but his mom had been looking for him, and she had talked to Tanner. He scratched his head and sat on the bench beneath the bear hooks. Brenda emerged with her bag of baking ingredients and walked behind the woodshed.

  Warren gazed at the forest beyond the shed, looking for headlights. If Paul had followed him, then he would have a reason to go to Nirvana early. Hellhole Cameron would have to understand if Warren changed the plan. Part of Warren also wanted Paul to catch up with him so he could find out if his parents were okay. His dad had yelled at Paul like someone had been shot, and Warren worried that—

  No. No more worry. I’m going to Nirvana. What do I care if anyone here is alive or dead?

  The rain subsided, leaving the night in a humid chill pushed
by a slight breeze. Brenda came back from the shed. When she saw Warren sitting on the bench, she shoved something into the pocket of her satin jacket and held her hand on it. She swung the front door open. “Tanner. Your friend is here. See if you can get him to keep his clothes on this time, will you?” She winked at Warren.

  “Who?”

  “Warren.” She walked inside and left the door open behind her. “He almost got arrested by Toothpick, but I saved him.” Her keys jangled as she went into the kitchen.

  Tanner raised his voice. “Arrested by who?”

  “Toothpick.”

  Tanner’s feet hit the bottom of the stairs. “Hey Bren. Do you like it when people call you ‘Bear Trap?’”

  “Screw you, Scarhead.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He stepped into the doorway, leaned against the jam, and crossed one leg over the other. “So, man. Where were you all day?”

  To hell and back—no…to Hellhole and back.

  “I was hiding out. Is anyone else here?” Warren said.

  “No, man. Nobody else is here.”

  “Yeah, well, last time—”

  “Okay, you already know Brenda’s here. Everyone else is gone. My rents are out celebrating some big business deal, and Nathan is out looking for his truck.” Something slammed shut in the kitchen like a bear trap, and Tanner turned his head. “Whoa, Bren. Don’t bake angry.”

  Tanner smiled and turned back to Warren. It was as if he was the one going to Nirvana. Warren said, “I need your help.”

  “No doubt, man. The way you look, you need a lot of help. What did she mean, she saved you from getting arrested?”

  Warren’s heart was beating at a normal rate, and that wasn’t normal. Paul might have shot his parents, and his entire body ached, but he wasn't worried. He had a plan. “Paul showed up at my house looking for me because I never went home.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Somewhere awesome, and I want to go back, but I need to borrow your clothes, and…” Warren pushed his hoodie back and stroked his hair. “Do you think you could give me a haircut?”

  Tanner’s cheeks rose to accommodate a crazy smile. “Oh, man. I like where you’re going with this.” He pointed up the road. “We can hide out in the abandoned church at the top of the hill. I’ll cut your hair, dye it blond, and call you Ponyboy. Yeah, I’ll call you Ponyboy Curtis and you can call me—”

  “No, Tanner. I’m serious.”

  “Me too, man, but don’t call me Tanner.” He put his hand on his chest and raised his chin. “From now on, call me Johnny.”

  A laugh from deep inside Warren burst out of his mouth.

  “Wait,” Tanner said. “Didn’t Johnny die in a fire? Never mind. I'm not going out like that.”

  “Are you sure?” Warren smiled, and his pores pinched particles of dirt in the corners of his mouth. “Burning to death is a good way to go. It’s hard for people to forget.”

  “No, man. If that's what I wanted, I would’ve stayed in the forest yesterday, but I don’t want to die.” A chilly breeze drifted against the side of the house and carried their smiles away down Melody Lane. Tanner, wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and a teal T-shirt that read LOS CABOS: ALL THE THERAPY I NEED, leaned away from the door frame. “What did you tell your parents about the fire?”

  “I didn’t tell them anything. I haven’t talked to them, but Toothpic—I mean Paul—thinks I might have had something to do with it. He was asking my parents about it tonight.”

  “That’s not good, man. If he’s asking your parents, he’ll ask mine next.” Tanner smirked and gazed away from town. “Maybe we should hide out in the church.”

  “There’s not really a church up there, is there?”

  “No, not really. I was actually thinking of camping at Foundation. I doubt the fire made it over that far, but I could be wrong.” Tanner lifted his head, and the breeze caught his hair. It waved like a blond blanket hanging from a clothes line, held in place by a pair of eyebrow clothes pins. The clothes pins wrinkled. “Why did you ask me to cut your hair?”

  Warren had agreed to keep the plan a secret, but he needed Tanner. He had always needed Tanner. Hellhole Cameron would have to understand that sometimes plans had to change.

  “Hey you little creeps.” Brenda, wearing a men’s tank top two sizes too small, leaned through the doorway. Silver and gold necklaces swung over her cleavage, and Warren saw down her shirt.

  Bear trap.

  “Don’t go in the kitchen and screw up my brownies,” she said. “I need them for school tomorrow.”

  Tanner said, “Oh yeah? How much are space cakes going for these days?”

  She rolled her eyes at Tanner. A pop song about Friday nights played from her back pocket. She squeaked with delight and, before Warren could blink, she had her cell phone pressed against her head. “Hi Trish…oh my God he’s hot…I know, right? And that tattoo…” Her head wagged back and forth with each exchange. “Can you hold for a second?” She cupped the receiver, winked at Warren, and glared at Tanner. “Remember. Stay out of the kitchen.”

  Brenda’s necklaces bounced in time with her chest as she ascended the stairs. Warren watched her go, and Tanner watched Warren.

  “Hey, man.” Tanner snapped his fingers. “My eyes are up here.” He wore a giant grin and pointed at the stairway. “So, you like my sister’s bod, huh?”

  Warren blushed and averted his eyes.

  “Don’t worry about it, man. I’m just kidding.”

  Warren said, “You’re lucky.”

  “Gross, man. She’s my sister.”

  “No, not because of her…because of all this.” Warren waved his hand over the deck, and Tanner tipped his head to one side. He didn’t get it. Tanner had never worried about being rich or poor. He had never worried about anything. He embraced life for the experience, regardless of what happened. On the internet, his status read IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH LIFE. His profile read I TAKE YOU, LIFE, TO HAVE AND TO HOLD FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE, FOR RICHER, FOR POORER, IN SICKNESS AND HEALTH, TO LOVE AND TO CHERISH, UNTIL DEATH DO US PART. THIS IS MY SOLEMN VOW.

  “I’m not lucky, man. I just am.” Tanner waved his hand over the deck. “None of this stuff matters. It’s just stuff.”

  Warren said, “You’re right, this stuff doesn’t matter, but where we’re going, there’s way better stuff.”

  Tanner cocked his head and grinned. “So, if we’re not hiding out at Foundation, where are we hiding out?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Part of Our Spring Collection

  The hot tub towels swayed in the misty night air. Warren stood up, and a towel fell off the big daddy bear hook. He wondered what kind of cheesy towel hooks hung in Hellhole Cameron’s Tamarack.

  Bees? Maybe Otters?

  Warren said, “We’re going to go to the best place that’s ever existed, but we will have to stay there for a while. Can you do that?”

  Droplets of water accumulated on the railing of the deck. Tanner swept the water off and wiped his hand on his pants. “I like it here, man, but if I have to hide out, I can. What I can’t do is go to jail.” The crazy glint in Tanner’s eyes faded. “I can’t to go to jail, man.”

  “We’re not going to jail,” Warren said.

  “Where are we going?” Tanner tipped his head. “And why do you need a haircut to go there?”

  “Because, I’ve got to look like—”

  I’ve got to look like myself. Not me, but the other me. Like the Warren that dates girls and smiles all the time. “I’ve got to look like I belong.”

  Tanner furrowed his brow and shook his head.

  “It’s hard to explain.” Warren picked his backpack up off the bench. “You never saw me today, did you?”

  “No, I didn't, but I can’t say I was looking for you either. I was trying to forget about the fire. You know, life’s too short and…but now—”

  “But now you can come with me to a place where no one will bother
us about the fire. It will be like the fire never happened.”

  Tanner threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled it in front of his face. “Will I have to cut my hair, man?”

  “No.” Warren smiled. “You won’t.”

  The breeze kicked up and blew toward Tanner. Tanner wrinkled his nose. “You stink, man.”

  “Yeah,” Warren said. “I stink like a forest fire. Like a forest fire we didn't start.”

  “Okay, I get it. You need a haircut and some clean clothes, but where are we going?”

  “It’s too hard to explain, I’ll have to show you.”

  Warren’s gaze turned toward the forest. Soon, he would sit on a hill in Nirvana with Cameron and Tanner. They would fly a kite, not a cheap drug store kite, but a kite that could do flips. The sun would shine bright and everything would be perfect. Sarah—no…Sharon would come, and she would sit with him. He would hold hands with the slim Nirvana Sharon, and they would make-out. Tanner would sit with Sarah. Cameron would have a gaggle of girls running around him, giggling at his every word.

  “Hey, man. Are you all right?”

  Warren shook his head and focused on Tanner. “This is going to be the experience of your life. But first, you need to cut my hair.”

  Warren went into the house and started up the stairs. “First, you cut my hair.” He took a step. “Second, I take a shower.” He took another step. “Third,” Warren turned around, and he felt a crazy glint run across his eyes.

  This must be how it was for Napoleon.

  “Third…we go to Nirvana.”

  “Yeah.” Tanner’s hands shot into the air. “Let’s go.”

  Warren stepped backwards onto the top step and remembered the plan. “Tomorrow. We’ll go tomorrow.”

  Tanner licked his lips and lowered his hands. “Why tomorrow? Why not tonight?”