by Taryn Eason
“So, where do you work?”
“Um, I work at York’s Ink. I’m a tattoo artist.”
“Really?” I don’t know why it shocked me, seeing as he had several visible tattoos, but I was definitely intrigued. After growing up in such a culture-starved environment, I was more than eager to speak with a fellow artist.
“Yeah. I’ve been working there for about two years now.”
“That’s so cool. What kind of stuff do you do? Do you have any pictures?”
He picked up on my mood change. “Why the sudden interest?”
I blushed. I didn’t have an answer that wasn’t corny. “Well, I don’t really know many artists. I love painting and stuff and-“ and the rest came out in a flood. “and I’ve always wanted to make art for a living, but my parents always told me that I couldn’t, but I don’t know anything else.”
He smirked. “You’re one of those people who just talks a lot on Norcos, aren’t you?”
“What? Wasn't that just a painkiller? Like an ibuprofen?” I hated taking medicine and I was feeling uneasy about my decision of trusting the pill. After all, I read the names of the drugs that were in it, but I had no idea what they actually were.
“Yeah, but it’s a little different. It's an opioid painkiller. It can mess with your head a bit.”
“Are you kidding me? My dad’s going to kill me! Am I going to get high from this? Am I even going to be safe to drive? I shouldn’t have trusted you!” I was furious and terrified at the same time. I was afraid of losing control of my mind, especially now that a loss of control could actually kill someone.
“Oh my gosh, are you kidding me right now?” Lye said in between laughs. “You’re fine. You’re not going to get high off of that. Maybe if I gave you another. That one is just enough to get you more talkative than normal, but at least you’re not in pain.” He looked over at me, still chuckling under his breath.
I watched his laugh. It seemed too carefree to be his. I also noticed he had a light twitch in his arms. Under no other circumstances would I have asked him about it, but my mind was slightly impaired at the moment. “Why are you twitching?”
His tone turned back to the serious one that I was used to. “I have Tourette’s. Thanks for noticing.”
I felt awkward for bringing it up. He was obviously sensitive about it. “I’m sorry.”
“Maybe I should have given you only half of that. It seems to have taken away your spitfire personality.” He half-smiled.
“No, I just feel bad. I don’t want to make fun of your medical problems. I’m mean, but I’m not heartless.”
He nodded his head in approval. We had pulled into the parking lot in front of my car. I got out and realized that my keys were sitting inside the car on the passenger seat. I closed my eyes. “Oh no.”
“What did you do?”
“I locked my keys in my car.” I looked down, ashamed at seeming so incompetent.
“Seriously?” He stepped out of the car and began digging in his trunk. “I’m going to be late for work because of this.”
I apologized. He pulled a bent clothes hanger from his trunk and inserted it into the car door at the base of the window. I feared he would break something. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Does it look like it?” He called from the driver’s side as he opened the door.
“Thank you!” I replied, rushing to my car, eager to escape the entire awkward encounter. I was thankful for his skills, however questionable they were.
“See you at the funeral.” He said as he drove away.
I sat in my driver’s seat and stared at the school for a while. It was only 10 a.m., so I could still go. I imagined it would be more interesting than my aunt’s funeral, but I didn't really care for either. I could only imagine how I would feel about seeing Madison again. It seemed like it was forever ago that she humiliated me. Last night’s events had made a longer-lasting impression than she ever could. The feeling of Colt’s melting flesh burned into my mind and made me feel sick. I remembered that, as his friends whisked him away, for just one moment, I could see the exposed muscles and bones of his cheek. I felt like throwing up at the memory.
I pulled into my driveway just as a police cruiser was leaving. I opened my front door with plans to go to my room and go back to sleep. Instead, I was greeted by my father.
“Where have you been? You couldn’t even come home the night before your aunt’s funeral? Your mother should have been grieving over her sister, but instead she was up all night worried about you.”
I sighed. I really didn’t feel like arguing right now. The drugs had me in a state of feeling too calm to shout. “I’m sorry.” I replied as I turned to face him.
“What the hell happened to your face?” He asked.
“Nothing. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
For the first time in a while, my dad seemed to show some sort of signal that he cared about me as a daughter. “Did a boy do this to you?”
“No, dad, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” I replied.
“Well, good.” He responded, inhaling. “You should go to your room. I’m not letting you go the funeral looking like that. I don’t want our family to see you and ask any questions.”
“Why not? Will I ruin your reputation?” I saw his eyes narrow. “Oh, and why were the cops here? You didn’t report me missing, did you?”
“No, we didn’t. No matter how much trouble you get into, you always manage to find your way back here, don’t you?” He hissed. I recalled the first time I stumbled in at 3 a.m. drunk, proud that, for once, it was me instead of him.
“If I had a better place to be, I’d go. Trust me.” I retaliated. “But seriously, why were they here?”
He stared at me, his green eyes identical to mine. “Somebody burned down your aunt’s greenhouse last night.”
Thank God I was good at faking ignorance. “Seriously? How do they know someone did it and it wasn’t just a freak accident?”
“They found blood samples at the back door from after the fire started.”
My heart skipped a beat. I knew I was screwed. “Well, I hope they find whoever did it, for mom’s sake.”
My mother was the only subject my father and I agreed on. “Yeah, she’ll be beating herself up about it until they find them.”
I agreed and left to go to my room. I was thankful to the drugs for not letting me freak out like I usually would. It was actually a relief not to have to go to the funeral. I hated seeing my mother cry. Actually, simply being around sad people just made me uncomfortable.
Lye was expecting to see me at the funeral, along with the rest of my family. What if someone there asked Delilah about the Reeki? What if they found out that I had it instead of her? What if they found out how terrible my powers were and insisted on killing me to make sure that Delilah got them? I barely knew my family. Both my grandmother and my mother had married white people, so they were looked down upon by the rest of the tribe. I knew next to nothing about our culture. Apparently the Reeki is common knowledge among full-blooded Lakinobes. I had no idea how they would react to my ‘evil’ powers.
I also wondered if Lye would talk to me if I was there. I still haven’t decided if I wanted him as a friend or not. He was a terrible person, but he knew more than I did about the Reeki and I honestly didn’t have many other options. I was still so afraid of him though. I knew that I had the power to kill him at any given moment, but a part of me was perpetually aware of how helpless I felt as he was beating me against a wall. I hated him at the same time that I longed for the type of companionship that he had with my aunt. I imagined them sitting in the greenhouse and Winona being so grateful to be in the company of another Lakinobe. They would talk about their lives and she wouldn’t judge him for having tattoos or anything else. She was always such a nice person and Lye wanted to be my friend because of her, but how could I ever compare to that?
I picked up an empty soda can from the trash basket
beside my bed and fiddled with it. I melted it down and played with it, the red paint and silver color from the can meshed it into a pink blob. I cooled it down and began to sculpt it. I formed it into a miniature fire shape. I gently molded every wisp until I was satisfied. It looked like a clay sculpture because my fingerprints were so visible in the molding. I sat my masterpiece on my bedside table and decided to dedicate the rest of the week to controlling my powers and eliminating the risk of having another fiery panic attack.
Chapter 6
I spent the week focusing on my emotions. Whenever they seemed to be getting out of control, I learned how to be angry and still keep my temperature down. My eyes glowed red, but my temperature was only slightly higher than normal. I was beginning to get used to the reality that my powers were a permanent thing that I would have to deal with for the rest of my life. I figured that it was better to realize it now than in prison, which is where I would most likely go when they get the blood results back. There’s no way that my parents would take up for me either. I was lucky that they hadn’t suspected me yet.
By Saturday I was ready to go out. My bruises had mostly faded, except for the ones on my shoulders (which were still clearly handprints). Aaron Wilkes had texted me inviting me to his older brother’s college party at his infamous barn, and I was more than willing to go. I met up with him with the money for alcohol and left instructions of what all I wanted him to get.
When I showed up that night, I met up with him and grabbed a bottle of tequila. I poured it in a glass, mixing it with a soda. It was my favorite mixture to set myself up for a fun time. I mingled with the people from my school and enjoyed the only time that they liked me. Madison wasn’t there, thankfully. Being drunk could potentially be a hazard to all of the progress that I’ve made in controlling my powers, but all was well so far. Then again, I was barely buzzed.
I was talking to Aaron’s older brother, Caleb, and his friends. Caleb and I had gotten close over the last few weekends that we had seen each other. I was attracted to Caleb, but how jealous it made Aaron just made it even better. I was laughing at a lame joke that he had made when I felt someone’s presence behind me. I turned around and was surprised to see Lye.
“What are you doing here?” He said, slurring his words slightly. I looked down at the bottle of Jack in his hand.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“You guys should stop hitting on her, she’s still a minor.” He told them, putting a hand on my back and eyeing Caleb more than the rest.
“I’m not a minor, Lye, I’m eighteen.” I replied, shrugging his hand away.
“That sounds an awful lot like something a minor would say.” Lye smirked.
“Are you here with him?” Caleb asked me.
“No, I’m not. I don’t even know him,” I replied, annoyed.
“Maybelle, can I talk to you for a second?” Lye asked, putting his hand around my waist.
I sighed, pushing his hand away again. “I don't see why not.” I said in an angry tone, hoping he would get the hint to leave me alone.
He led me out behind the house where the cars were parked. I was uncomfortable at being so isolated with him.
When I felt we had gone far enough, I turned towards him, and, for the third time, forced his hand away from my back. “What do you want?”
He spoke so soberly that I could tell he was just faking being so wasted. “You don’t need to be drinking tonight.”
“What makes you think you can tell me that?” I snapped back.
“Maybelle, you could kill someone. You have to keep a clear head. Remember what I said? This isn’t just about you anymore.”
“I know. It’s about you and your tribe and blah, blah, blah. I’m under so much stress, Lye. Just let me have this.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You shouldn’t associate with Caleb Wilkes or his friends. They’re not good people.”
“You’re not a good person either, yet here I am. I didn’t come here for you to tell me what to do. You’re not my father. Just go back there and leave me alone.”
He seemed hurt. He had a right to be, but I wasn’t exactly the type to spare anyone’s feelings if they were impeding on my freedom. “Maybelle, please listen to me-“
“No.” I turned my cup up and drank the last half before melting the plastic and watching it fall to the ground in strings.
Lye threw his hands up angrily. “Fine. Have fun. Just don’t expect me to help you when you screw up.” He shouted, half-stumbling back to the party. I could finally tell he was actually drunk; He was just extremely good at hiding it.
I walked back and found Caleb sitting at a table with his friends. He had powder blue eyes and blonde hair just like his brother, but he was taller and more muscular. He was telling us about his fraternity, but his eyes were almost always on me. Just knowing that someone didn’t approve of him made me want him more than I already did. It seemed like he genuinely liked me back, but then again, I knew nothing about college guys. I barely knew anything about guys my own age.
“So, how do you know Lye?” Caleb asked.
“Oh, he’s just a family friend.” I replied.
“What did he want to speak to you about?”
I laughed. “He was mad at me for drinking underage. Oh, and he told me not to trust you.”
Caleb put his arm around my waist. “And do you always listen to big brother Lye?”
I bit my lip and smiled. “Nope.”
Caleb kissed me and I was so focused on him that I forgot that there were tons of other people all around us. I broke away just in time to see Lye shatter his bottle on the ground and leave.
“Have I told you yet that you’re a really good kisser?” Caleb said. I was glad he didn’t see Lye’s display.
My stomach started aching. I winced at the pain. It always hurt after drinking alcohol, but this time it was so much worse, most likely because of how fast I finished my last glass, mixed with the anxiety and stress of my life.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing my back.
I felt like I wanted to throw up. I just wanted to leave and be alone. “My stomach hurts really bad. How much did you drink?”
“I’ve only had two beers. Why?”
“Can you take me home, please? I’m sorry, I’m just feeling terrible. I think I drank too fast.”
“Yeah, babe, I got you.” He replied and smiled at me.
He took my hand and led me to his truck, on the back edge of the yard. He walked to the passenger side and opened the door for me.
I thanked him and smiled, even though I felt like I was dying. He leaned into me and began kissing me, which only upset my stomach even more.
I pushed him away and shook my head. “No, Caleb, can you please just take me home? I really do feel bad.”
“Not yet,” He said as he pushed me down across the seats. He slammed the truck door behind him and locked it before climbing on top of me.
“Ow,” I said as my back dug into the seatbelt fastener. “Please let me go.” I said in a small, terrified voice.
He smiled and leaned up to my ear. I felt his warm breath as he whispered “Not yet, baby”. Then he moved to my mouth and began kissing me. I was frozen in fear.
I thought about burning him away, but I remembered how it felt to burn someone. That feeling on my hands was the worst thing that I had ever felt. I couldn’t bring myself to do it again, no matter how afraid or in danger I was. I just couldn’t do it.
His hands moved over me. They grabbed my chest and I let out a whimper. “Shut up.” He shouted as he hit me. Tears began streaming down my face, but I remained silent. His hands travelled down and began to unbutton my jeans.
Then broken glass crashed all over me. Lye, with his shirt still wrapped around his fist, pulled Caleb out and began to attack him.
“Get away from her.” He growled as he beat him against the truck. Caleb made an attempt to fight back, but Lye was far more skilled than he w
as. I could see blood all over Lye’s hands and I wasn’t sure how much of it was his own from bursting the window. Soon, all there was to hear was the distant pounding of the party music and Lye’s heavy breathing. I still lay there, unmoving, surrounded by broken glass, and terrified.
Lye held open the door the truck. “Why didn’t you burn him?” He said angrily.
I just stared back, unable to bring myself to do anything else.
“I told you not to trust him!”
I closed my eyes as I let out a silent sob.
His expression changed as he leaned in and gently pulled me out. “Where do you want me to take you?”
I tried to speak, but nothing would come out. I looked down at Caleb, who was slumped over against the truck, completely unrecognizable through all of the blood.
Lye noticed me looking at Caleb and turned us the other way so that I couldn’t see him. I still felt like throwing up. He carried me bridal style to his car, which was over a block away, my head limply resting on his chest. He laid me in the back seat and then sat beside me. I curled my legs up into my lap and held them as I stared out the window, unable to form a coherent thought.
“Maybelle, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Lye said calmly.
I began to cry, making a noise for the first time. Lye put his hand on my back to comfort me and I leaned into him. “I’m sorry.” I mumbled.
He moved closer and wrapped his arms around me. Usually, I would have swiped him away and dealt with everything alone. But as he stroked my hair and held me, simply feeling someone else’s touch that wasn’t meant to harm did more for me than I ever could on my own. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I’m sorry for being so mean to you. I shouldn’t have.”
I sobbed and wrapped my own arms around him, embracing the person who saved me.
He pulled me close and I held him back. He was like a father comforting a small child and I longed for such a warm paternal presence. “I’m so sorry, I came as soon as I heard he took you away. I shouldn’t have let you go with him. I’m so sorry.” He said as his voice cracked. “You infuriate me, but I never should have left you without a better explanation. I shouldn’t have drank at all tonight so I could drive you home. I’m sorry.”