Squall Line

by Dawn Lee McKenna

  It was one of those keychains they sell at photo studios, the ones with the packages of a million wallet-sized pictures. In the sun-faded picture, she was twelve and Kyle was almost seven. Her dad said one time that he kept it because, in it, she hadn’t hit puberty yet. In her head, in the part of her mind that was scared, she heard her dad laugh and she wished he was there.

  She was impulsive, like her father. She knew that. Everybody knew that. Wyatt said once that she had a tendency to ride off in all directions at once, like Don Quixote. That was true. She’d reached out to Ryan almost without knowing she was going to. He was just so sad, and scared, and she had known all at once where he was. She’d seen the wall, and she’d already been typing before she’d decided to type.

  She’d been excited and determined when she’d left the house, and didn’t start to get scared until she was almost here. Now she thought about turning her phone on and calling her mom. Or driving back home and then calling her mom.

  But if Ryan was still in there, if her message hadn’t chased him away, then he’d already seen her. He would run if she pulled out now. Anyway, her adrenaline might be starting to let her down, but her conviction that she should come hadn’t changed. The phone would stay off until she was ready to use it.

  The door to the old truck squealed as she pushed it open, and she stuck her phone in her back pocket, left the keys in the ignition, and got out.

  The trailer was an old singlewide; dirty white with rusted brown trim. An ancient air conditioner hung precariously from one of the front windows, and a broken and flatted kiddie pool languished in the weeds. The front steps were made of pallets, and they weren’t from the former owner. Kids had built them, to make it less strenuous to get inside and party.

  The trailer had been empty for at least six or seven years. Nothing ever came of the first time someone broke in and blew through a twelve pack, so more people came, and more beer was drunk, and nobody ever fixed the front door.

  Even though her truck was loud and she was in plain sight, she closed the door as quietly as she could, then stood and listened. There was nothing on this section of Oyster Road but this trailer and a lot of woods. Across the road, an empty lot was alive with the sounds of cicadas and frogs and crickets, one shift closing down for the day and the other one getting ready to take over for the night.

  The woods behind the trailer seemed quieter, like the wildlife over there had stopped to see what she was doing. The windows were mostly boarded up or covered with tattered mini-blinds. She couldn’t tell if anyone inside was waiting, too. She wanted to text Ryan and ask him if he was there or tell him that she was. But she didn’t want to turn her phone on, and she knew he was keeping his off, too.

  Suddenly, she heard her Mom’s voice in her head; her practical voice. It’s not gonna be any easier five minutes from now, Boo. Of course, Mom meant the laundry, the homework, the chicken poop, the tetanus shot. Still, it got her moving.

  She walked across the yard, her Van’s picking up stickers with every step, the weeds dragging themselves across her bare legs, probably depositing ticks on her; ticks she would find in the shower sometime. She should have changed out of her shorts, but she was so busy being a superhero that she didn’t think of it.

  Her eyes danced from the windows to the front door as she crossed the yard, but she saw no movement in any of them by the time she got to the front steps. Of course, it was getting kind of dark.

  Her footsteps on the pallets were pretty much the loudest thing she’d ever heard in her young life, and she wondered how Wyatt managed to sneak up on bad guys. At home, she knew where Wyatt was at all times. He wasn’t exactly a bull in a china shop, but he was just so big. Too big to be sneaky. He’d been on all kinds of raids and busts; how did he not get shot every single day?

  She instantly thought of Dwight and felt bad for thinking that, but in her family, fighting fear with humor was genetic.

  Then, as she stood there trying to decide what to do, she heard the floor creaking just inside the door. She looked up at the door and waited a moment.

  “Ryan?” she asked finally, her voice quieter than she’d expected. “Ryan, it’s Sky Seward.”

  She waited for a moment, and was about to turn and run when she heard him, right up against the door.

  “What are you doing here, Sky?” He sounded like an old man.

  “I want to talk to you,” she said. “Can you let me in?”

  “That would be so stupid. Your mom is a cop.”

  “I know. But she’s not here,” Sky said. “Dude, I promise you nobody else knows where you are. I just—I just want you to let me try to help.”

  It took a moment for him to respond. Inside, the floor creaked as he shifted his weight.

  “How did you know where I was?” he asked. He sounded more exhausted than suspicious, but the suspicion was there.

  “I’ve been here before,” she answered. “I recognized it.”

  “Great.”

  A moment later, he opened the door, slowly.

  Sky had seen him in the video just a few minutes ago. Thirty, maybe. She’d seen then how worn out he looked, but in person it was seriously startling. His pretty hair was starting to turn greasy, he had huge bags under his eyes, he was pale, and she could smell the stale sweat from his body. She hadn’t been physically close to him in a long time, but she remembered that he always smelled like soap.

  His tee shirt had dark stains in the armpits, and there were dark stains in the knees of his pants, too, like he’d been kneeling in the dirt for four days.

  He looked over her shoulder, his eyes scanning the yard and road, and back to her. Then he seemed embarrassed, and looked down at the floor as he stepped back to let her in.

  It took Sky’s eyes a minute to adjust to the dim interior, even though it was twilight outside. The front door opened right into the room that was living room, dining room and kitchen all in one, and it was pretty much the same as she remembered it.

  The living room floor was covered with trash, old sofa cushions that Sky was positive should be cleansed with fire, and odd bits of a household, like a broken CD rack and the bottom of a lamp. The wall just in front of the door, the back wall of the living room, was covered in even more graffiti, and there was a washing machine with no door sitting up against a back window.

  The kitchen counter was there, sort of like a breakfast bar, but all of the appliances were gone and most of the cabinets were missing their doors. It was a cheerful place, the kind of place you wanted to be when you were depressed and scared out of your mind.

  “Where’s Adrian?” she asked after Ryan shut the door.

  He lifted his right arm to pint toward the kitchen, and that was the first time she realized he was holding the gun. He saw her see it and gave a small shrug.

  “Sorry.”

  “You could put it down,” she tried.

  “The safety’s on, if that helps.”

  “A little.”

  He walked toward the kitchen counter and she followed, praying that nothing disgusting touched her. He stopped at the end of the counter and she stopped, too. She remained several feet away, standing in the middle of the mauve shag carpet, the beer bottles and the used condoms.

  He looked down at the floor, at something behind the counter. “Get up,” he said quietly.

  Sky heard the rustling of cloth against wood, and a moment later Adrian stood. He didn’t look as bad as Ryan, but he didn’t look a whole lot better, either. She didn’t feel sorry for him, though. That was the difference. Although, she noticed that his permanent look of arrogance apparently wasn’t all that permanent. He just looked hot and tired.

  “I know you,” he said. “You’re in fourth period lunch. Skyler. Yeah.”

  Sky didn’t answer. She looked at Ryan. “Ryan, you have to make this stop,” she said quietly.

 
He looked at her, and she couldn’t remember seeing anybody look that sad. “How do I do that?” he asked.

  “You’re probably not in as much trouble as you think you are,” Sky said.

  He rubbed at his elbow with the gun. “You know, I’ve actually been worried that he was dead and they’re keeping it a secret so they can get me to turn myself in to the police.”

  “He’s not,” Sky said. “Dwight’s like family. I know. He’s still in the ICU, but he made it through surgery.”

  Ryan looked at her with something sort of like gratitude, then he wobbled the gun in Adrian’s direction. “Go back by the corner.” He backed away a bit, making sure there was plenty of room between them.

  Adrian sighed, then came around the counter and ambled past them. He looked at Sky as he went by. “You need to get your boyfriend to let me the hell out of here,” he said. “I’m dying in here.”

  “Shut up, creep,” she said forcefully. “If you can’t pay the tab don’t order the beer.”

  He glared at her, then slid down the wall and sat down. “You saying it’s my fault I’m having a heatstroke in here? Cause I’m not the one that got a gun.”

  “No, I’m not saying it’s your fault,” Sky replied. “Ryan’s the one that picked up the gun, yeah. And he’s gonna have to live with it. What I’m saying is that you watch enough YouTube that you should have seen it coming, dumbass.” She swiped at her forehead with the back of her hand. “A really great guy, a truly good person, is in the hospital. I hope you’ve been having fun all year.”

  “Hey, I don’t have to listen to you,” Adrian said, jerking his chin up.

  “Then don’t,” Sky said. “You won’t understand half of what I say, anyway.”

  She looked over at Ryan, who had leaned back against the wall. He was staring at the floor, but his eyes were unfocused. His thoughts were somewhere else.

  “Ryan.”

  He looked up at her.

  “I know the cops that are looking for you,” she said. “They’re good people. Come with me. I mean, just get in my truck and come with me.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I shot a cop.” His expression was almost one of amazement, if he was that animated. “I’ve never even been in a fight, and I shot a police officer.”

  “I know, but—”

  He scratched at the corner of his eye. “Besides, I still kidnapped Adrian. That’s what it is, you know.”

  “You can tell me about that later,” Sky said. “We just need to make this stop. You need to let us help you—”

  “I’m so tired,” he interrupted. He tried to smile, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “The only thing I could find in here to tie him up with was some old rope from a crab trap or something, and it broke in half when I tried to tie a stupid knot.”

  He sighed, and leaned his head back against the wall, but his eyes were on Adrian. “So I have to just sit here, awake, watching him sleep. For three days, I’ve just been watching him sleep.”

  “That’s not my fault, man.” Adrian said, but the bravado was gone. He just sounded tired, too.

  “I can’t think anymore,” Ryan said.

  “Hey, it hasn’t been some picnic for me, either,” Adrian said, the resentment creeping back into his voice. He looked at Sky. “All night last night, he’s over there talking to himself, trying to decide if he should blow his brains out, or let me go, or blow both our heads off.”

  Sky looked at Ryan. “Please don’t do anything of those things, Ryan.”

  “What is it you think I should do, Sky?” He used his free hand to swipe at the sweat on his neck.

  “Hey,” Adrian said quietly. “Do you have any water or anything?” Sky looked over at him. “We already drank the water he had.”

  Sky looked at Ryan. “I have some Dr. Pepper in my truck. If I go get it, are you going to let me back in?”

  He swallowed a couple of times, and she saw in his eyes how much he wanted it. She found that so horribly sad. A kid with a home and a mom that loved him, dying of thirst in the middle of a bunch of roach clips and used rubbers.

  “You should just leave it on the steps and go home,” Ryan said.

  “Well, I gotta tell you, that would be pretty awesome,” she said. “I would really like to just go home. But I can’t.”

  She didn’t wait for him to answer. She turned around, walked back out the door, and through the yard to her truck bed. She and some friends had gone to the beach the weekend before, and she knew for a fact she had a couple of sodas in the cooler. She flipped the lid up, and two cans of Dr. Pepper, half a bottle of orange juice, and a Ziplock bag of string cheese sloshed around in the warm water. She grabbed the sodas and the cheese, looked around to see if anyone was on the road, and then headed back to the trailer.

  This time, she saw the blinds in the front window move, and Ryan opened the door when she got to the top of the rickety steps.

  “What is that?” he asked hungrily when he saw the plastic bag.

  “String cheese. Everything’s hot, but it’s still good.”

  She handed him one of the cans, and the bag of cheese, then held up the other can. “Can I give this to him?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ryan popped the top of his can and started drinking. Sky walked over to Adrian and held out the other one. He looked a lot younger, looking up at her from the floor, and she almost felt sorry for him.

  He took it without saying anything, popped it open, and took several long swallows. When he lowered the can to take a breath, Ryan threw two strips of cheese into his lap. He kept one for himself.

  He sat back down against the wall, and after debating with himself for a minute, he hung onto the gun and tried to open the cheese with his teeth. Sky walked over and held out her hand.

  “Give it to me.”

  He did, and she peeled the plastic off and handed it to him. Then she tossed the plastic on the floor.

  “So you never answered me,” Ryan said. “What do you think I should do?”

  He didn’t really sound like he cared about the answer, but she gave him one, anyway.

  “I think you should come with me, and I’ll take you to my mom.”

  “You got guts, I’ll give you that,” Adrian mumbled around his cheese.

  Sky ignored him. “Ryan, I’m not gonna say that you turn yourself in and everything’s fine, but your life isn’t over, either. You can come back from it, eventually. He’s not dead. They know it was an accident, too.”

  “Don’t forget the kidnapping.”

  “Look, I’m just saying that you might not have the same life, but you will have a life to come back to.”

  “I don’t have anything to come back to, Sky,” Ryan said. “Even if I get out of prison eventually, then what? I have no scholarship, no college. I’m never going to be a vet. I’ve shamed my mom.”

  “I have a mother, too, you know,” Adrian said.

  Ryan looked over at Adrian, then back at Sky. “I didn’t even get to finish what I was trying to say to her, because this guy has to be in the middle of everything.”

  Sky sighed. “So finish it.”

  He waved the gun a bit, as though to wave away her idea. She wasn’t feeling it.

  “Look, you don’t know what you want to do, you don’t know if you want to let him go, turn yourself in, run away…” She didn’t include anything about blowing anybody’s brains out. “At least say what you need to say to your mom. I saw her on TV. She seems like a nice lady.”

  “She is. She works really hard.”

  Sky reached back and slipped her phone out of her pocket. “Here, I’ll film it—”

  Ryan jumped up, the fastest she’d seen him move since she got there. “Oh, crap! Your phone! I didn’t even—”

  “What?”

  “So they can track you, Sky?”

 
; “Dude, chill out,” she said quietly. She handed the phone to him. I turned it off before I even left my house.”

  He stared at it. “Take it. We’ll use yours.”

  He looked up at her.

  “You did it earlier, no cops are here.”

  “That’s because it was short.”

  “How short does it have to be? She asked.

  “I don’t know.” He almost laughed. “On TV, thirty seconds.”

  “Look, I don’t know,” Sky said, trying to look like she didn’t think it was all that important. “If you don’t want to, don’t. You just mentioned it, that’s all. I just want you to not feell like you’re feeling right now.”

  Ryan swayed a little bit as he stood there, thinking about it. If Sky didn’t know better, she would think he was just a little drunk.

  “Okay, but short,” he said.

  “Okay, give me your phone.”

  He reached into his back pocket, turned it on, then opened his Facebook.

  “Hurry, you’re going to use up a lot of your time just getting there.”

  “Okay, here.” He handed her the phone.

  She held it up and pointed it at him, then sighed. “It’s too dark, your face isn’t even showing up.” She looked around. “Hey, move.”

  “Me?” Adrian asked, like they’d woken him up.

  “Well, yeah. Let him get over there where it’s lighter,” she said. “Come on, I need to turn this phone back off, dude.”

  “Okay, whatever.”

  Ryan watched Adrian walk to the middle of the room. “Over there by the counter,” he said, pointing the gun in that direction.

  He waited until Adrian was leaning on the counter, then he stood up against the wall where the other boy had just been. Sky looked at Adrian before she moved away from him a bit and turned her back to him.

  “I can see you, and I’m pretty sure I can hit you from here, so don’t go near her,” Ryan said.

  “All right, man. I don’t care.”

  Sky held the phone up. “Okay, think about what you want to say, because we have to be really fast, ok?”