Supernormal

by Caitlen Rubino-Bradway

  “No, no. Sorry I’m late.” Liz wedged her way in, tote bags hanging off each arm. Her face was red with the heat, and there was sand in her hair, fading the pink streaks. “You guys didn’t start yet, did you?”

  “Where the hell have you been?” Danny called.

  “Where do you think?”

  Cam reached to take her bags, but she shrugged them off in one tense movement. He grabbed the coat tree before it clattered to the floor. Liz let out an angry huff.

  “Dammit, Danny, who uses coat trees anymore?”

  “My mom. We didn’t start. Tyler’s still bitching about the selection,” Danny called.

  “Yeah, go take a shower,” Tyler yelled.

  “You jackass. You don’t know if I stink, you haven’t smelled me yet,” Liz protested, heading into the living room. She shoved past Tyler and Danny into the kitchen.

  “Smelled you just now,” Tyler said. Liz offered him a finger as she chugged a bottle of water.

  Danny looped an arm around Liz’s waist and pulled her close. She shrieked with laughter as the water spilled between them. But she softened into him. “And you smell pretty. Like a girl. Like a pretty, pretty girl.” He burrowed his head in Liz’s neck and sniffed dramatically.

  Tyler rolled his eyes. “Christ, get a room, will you?”

  “Throw that at him, please,” Danny requested, and Liz obligingly chucked her water bottle at Tyler’s head. Even with him ducking, it nailed him right between the eyes.

  Cam realized that he was still standing in the hallway, holding a coat tree. He hated this. Hated that he felt awkward. Hated that he would see the laughing and the having fun, and he would freeze up.

  He set the coat tree back on its feet. It wobbled back and forth on its feet for half a second before crashing loudly to the floor. Danny, Liz, and Tyler looked over at him. Danny grinned. “Dude, that better not have dinged the floor. That’s Mom’s favorite part of the floor.” He laughed when Cam did a panicked check of the floor.

  “I don’t think he likes us,” Liz said, resting her chin on Danny’s shoulders.

  And Cam stood there, trying to force himself to move, relax, be natural, and failing, and thought, I don’t know if I like you. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me and you’re treating me like I’m a friend and I’m not sure I can deal with that.

  He forced himself into the living room and took an awkward seat on the arm of the couch. “What’s wrong?”

  Liz shuddered and stepped away from Danny. “The usual. Come on. Sling Blade. Let’s do this.”

  “The usual?”

  “Coach Parker,” Danny informed Cam.

  “Don’t worry about it. And don’t ask her,” Tyler said. “Let’s all pretend that Liz is fine and just start the movie.”

  Danny laughed. “You’re an awful friend.”

  “Coach Parker what?” Cam asked Liz.

  She rolled her eyes, but there was a bitter twist to her mouth. “Coach Parker just—being Coach Parker.”

  “He doesn’t like Liz,” Tyler informed him.

  “Why not?” Cam offered a smile. “You seem likable.”

  “‘Cause she’s a woman,” Danny said. “Coach Parker isn’t all that fond of the ladies. Well, not, ‘ladies.’ More just Lizzie.”

  “Why not?” Cam asked.

  “Because girls don’t play baseball,” Liz spat out, as Tyler leaned back on the couch with a sardonic look on his face. “Girls play softball, or lacrosse, or field hockey, or they run track with other girls. They don’t play baseball, and if they do then they don’t play it with the boys, and they certainly don’t play it better than the boys. And if they do play it better, then obviously they’re cheating because there’s no way puny girl muscles could stand up to the big, strong men—”

  Danny pulled Liz to him again, running his hands up and down her arms. “All right, all right. Breathe.”

  “I don’t know why you put up with it,” Tyler said.

  “I don’t,” Liz said, the anger on her face melting into razor-edged satisfaction. “I make him choke on it. I’ve been on that diamond every day for the past six years, I play on Christmas. He can say whatever he wants, but you better believe when we get out there I shove it down his fucking throat. But that doesn’t make it any easier to listen to.”

  “Just look on the bright side,” Tyler said, and ignored the startled glances both Danny and Liz shot at him. “The only reason Coach Parker is behaving this way is because he’s grown up in a society that strictly divided certain activities along gender lines and equated success at those activities with success as a person and, in particular, as a man. It goes back to being the caveman with the biggest club. In a way, it’s understandable, considering he grew up in that time and culture, which stressed adherence to these archaic and arguably medieval stereotypes, to the degree that they have become inexorably tangled up in his gender identity. The odds are fairly good that he’s not actually being mean simply for the sake of meanness; it’s just that he’s had his values and ideas of self corseted by a time and culture that we, as a society, have now moved past, especially as regards to gender roles. It’s a lot to deal with.” Tyler paused. “Or it could be he’s just an asshole.”

  “That’s the bright side?” Liz asked.

  Tyler shrugged. “I, for one, find the fallibility of my fellow men—and women—to be very comforting. It’s nice to know everybody’s messed up in their own little way.”

  “Plus,” Danny tossed in, “one day you’re going to be a starting pitcher for the Yankees, and he’s going to be old and alone and sitting on his couch, watching you on TV.”

  “Giants,” Cam said, and then cleared his throat when everyone looked at him. “The Yankees are across the country. You, um, you wouldn’t want to move that far away from your family. The Giants are based in San Francisco. I believe,” he added lamely.

  “That’s even better,” Danny jumped in. “Because then we can go to all of your games, and the money we save on airfare to New York we can put towards costumes.”

  “We’re going to dress up?” Tyler said.

  “Of course we’re going to dress up. If she gets to be a Giant, we all get to be giants, and we’re going to be jolly and green. It’s only fair.”

  Liz dropped her head against Danny’s shoulder. When she spoke, her voice was muffled against his shirt. “I don’t even mind what he says to me—I mean, I do, but I’m a big girl. I can handle it. But the stuff he says to the kids. He doesn’t even think about it, but I can see it rub off on them. It’s a damn cycle.”

  “Fallibility of the human condition,” Tyler said.

  “No, it’s not,” Danny continued smoothly, “because for every stupid thing Coach Parker says to them, they see that nice Miss Bell, who teaches them how to keep their eye on the ball and not to be jerks, and who flatlines all those stinky boys on the field, and the cycle, it will break into little pieces and float away, like that vampire chick at the end of the second Blade movie.”

  “Wait, Billy Bob Thorton’s a vampire?” Tyler asked.

  “No, you idiot. The one we’re going to watch, with Billy Bob, that is Sling Blade. I’m talking about Blade II, with vampires and Wesley Snipes. The one where he’s a half-vampire vampire hunter and he teams up with a group of vampires in order to kill off the uber-vampires that are killing off all the regular vampires, and, for fuck’s sake, it’s like you live under a rock. What do you do all day?”

  “I have three jobs, I have to pay for college, you dick. Besides, that doesn’t even make sense. Why would Wesley Snipes help out the vampires?” Tyler demanded. “He’s a vampire hunter. Why not just sit back and have a pina colada and let the uber-vampires do his work for him?”

  “They explain it all in the movie. And he’s not going to have a pina colada, he’s a vampire. He’s going to have, I don’t know, a Bloody Mary. Except not, cause they’re gross. And he helps the vampires out.”

  “Wait, he’s a vampire, and he’s killing va
mpires? That’s sick. He’s like a serial killer.”

  “I’m going to grab a shower,” Liz said, and Cam looked away as Liz snagged Danny’s mouth for a kiss. Danny barely paused mid-argument. (“It’s a greater good kind of thing. Like teaming up with Russia to defeat Hitler.”) “You’re going to want to get a soda or magazine, something,” she told Cam. “They’re going to be at this for a while.”

  By the time Liz rejoined them, Danny and Tyler agreed to swap out the planned line-up for the Blade movies. “I thought we were going to watch Southern movies, to welcome our new Southern friend,” Liz said.

  “I’m pretty sure there’s a Southern vampire in there somewhere.”

  “We’re also going to watch Tru Blood,” Tyler said, gesturing at Cam. “They’re Southern.”

  “You’re just hot for Anna Paquin,” Liz said.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You know I don’t like vampires,” Liz said, toweling her damp hair.

  “I thought everyone liked vampires,” Cam said.

  Liz shook her head, sending her wet hair flapping around her shoulders. “The whole neck-biting thing gives me the creeps.”

  “Oh, are you going to get so freaked I have to cuddle you in my manly arms?” Danny asked. He gave a long-suffering sigh, but held his arms out. Liz muttered something about him being so fucking chivalrous as she settled next to him.

  The cookies were gone by the time Wesley Snipes cut Ron Perlman in half, and they had to pause to turn off the movie when Danny’s mom came back home, with groceries and his younger sister, Whitney. Cam immediately popped up to take the grocery bags, then stood there feeling awkward as Whitney started pleading with Mrs. Evans to let her hang out with “Danny’s friends” and slumped off to her room in a huff when it turned out the movies in their queue were definitely not PG.

  Mrs. Evans directed Cam into the kitchen. “Anywhere on the counter, thank you. You’re Meg’s boy, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Cam started unpacking the bags, which made Mrs. Evans smile and call to her son, “I like your new friend, Danny.”

  “Oh, Cam hasn’t decided if we’re friends or not yet,” Danny called back.

  “Well, it’s too late. I like him,” Mrs. Evans said. “Now get off your butt and get in here and help him.”

  Danny let out a long-suffering sigh and shuffled dramatically into the kitchen, but he easily pulled apart the bags and started tucking things away.

  “You have a younger sister,” Cam said. “That’s nice.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s annoying. Little sisters are annoying and they eavesdrop on your conversations.” Danny raised his voice on that last part. There was the scrambling of footsteps on the stairs. Danny grinned at Cam and shrugged. “She can be okay, I guess. What about you and Naomi? I’m guessing you’re the over-protective big brother type.”

  Cam didn’t answer for a second. He focused on organizing the groceries into different piles as Danny emptied the bags—produce, dairy, meat, freezer, pantry—and ran though different futures in his head to distract himself. ASHLEY, WATER SPLASHING UP AROUND HER AS SHE RAN. She was at Ian’s now, working, he knew. IAN, BOX CUTTER IN HAND, RAZOR SLICING RAGGEDLY THROUGH TAPE. FLIPPING OPEN BOXES. A GLASS CASE FALLING, SHATTERING, BRIGHTLY COLORED FIGURES SMASHING ON THE FLOOR. Ashley again, IN THE ALLEY OUT BACK, FLATTENING BOXES. He checked on Ashley often.

  Tyler started laughing. “Nice going, Danny, now you’ve got that stick up his ass again.”

  “Did I?” Danny elbowed Cam. “Sorry about that, man, I didn’t mean to put anything up your ass. ‘Least, not without buying you dinner first. Meg said not to bring up the parent thing ‘cause it was a touchy subject, but she talks about you and Naomi all the time, I thought—sorry. But, hey, my dad left us,” Danny offered. “He’s an asshole. So there’s that.”

  Cam nodded. “Naomi’s nice. We got along.” At least he thought they had. As long as their parents weren’t there, because when they were, Naomi, who was shy and quiet and easily cowed, would close up all those parts of herself that she thought their parents didn’t like, until there was nothing of her left, only them.

  Ashley. Focus on Ashley. He could deal with that. ASHLEY, STACKING BOXES. ASHLEY, TURNING AWAY, FACE FLUSHED, HAIR FALLING FREE OF ITS TANGLED KNOT. ARGUING, HER VOICE SHAKING, GROWING LOUDER. BRICKS. ALLEY. BOX CUTTER, SLICING THROUGH TAPE, CARDBOARD, SKIN. BLOOD.

  Cam dumped the carton of ice cream he was holding into Danny’s arms and ran out the door.

  He made it to Level Up in fifteen minutes; it would’ve been sooner if he wasn’t wearing church shoes. There was a Closed sign on the door, but Cam could see Ian sorting a stack of comics in his arms. Cam hammered on the door until Ian came over. “Hey, sorry, man, we close at two on Sundays—”

  Cam cut him off. “I have to talk to Ashley.”

  Ian didn’t ask; he just nodded toward the back. “Taking out the recycling.”

  Cam could already hear the raised voices. Just the one, actually. Hers. He ran around into the back alley. It was hot and muggy there, even in the shade. Ashley was straining, her fingers tearing into the stack of cardboard she was holding, across from an angular blond boy. Cam recognized him; the one from earlier, from Paco’s.

  “I was here, I’ve been here,” Ashley protested, and her voice was raw.

  “Bullshit, Garrett. You were on the beach earlier. People saw you.” The boy—Troy, Danny had said his name was—jabbed a finger at her; Cam could almost see Ashley bristle. “You’re always skulking around, like some kind of freak, staring at us. You want to mess around with the other freaks, see if I care, but just fuck off and leave the rest of us alone, okay? Jesus—you’re always staring, following us around—”

  “I’m not,” Ashley hissed, and Cam could see her catch herself as she strained forward.

  “—like I’m—like we’re all freaks like you, but we’re not, so just stay the hell away. I don’t know what your damage is, Garrett, but—”

  Cam saw Ashley turning, LUNGING, and he ran, skidding to a stop between them. “Sorry, sorry! Sorry I’m late, Ashley. I got caught up.” He put a hand on Ashley’s arm and it felt like marble under the thin fabric of her shirt. So strong—he remembered the beach—she was so damn strong, and Cam’s skin went cold. He couldn’t really stop her; if she wanted at the kid, he wasn’t strong enough to drag her away. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

  “No,” she answered. Her attention was on him now, though, and she caught on quickly. “No, it’s okay. We’re…not late, are we?”

  Cam tried to catch her eye, but it was impossible to tell if it worked with those damn sunglasses between them. “No. But we should go now.”

  Ian came to the back door, a box cutter in hand. “Everything okay here?” He nodded at the boy. “Hey, Troy. You know, I can’t allow customers back here. Rules and stuff.”

  “Had to talk to Garrett.” The boy was still glaring at Ashley.

  Ian sighed. “Stop picking on her, you’re just going to get your face punched in.”

  “He is not,” Cam said to Ashley.

  “No, I meant by me,” Ian said affably. “Part of the Level Up employment plan. You work here, I beat up all your bullies for you.”

  “She was lurking around Fast Pete’s this morning,” Troy said mulishly. “Out on the beach, said he could tell someone was watching him and shit.”

  “It wasn’t me.” Ashley’s fingers dug painfully into Cam’s arm, holding him in place like a shield. “I’ve been here.”

  “She’s been here,” Ian echoed with a grin, waving the box cutter. It slipped out of his hands and Ian automatically grabbed for it. He cursed loudly and Cam shoved Ashley, hard, hoping that surprise would give him an edge.

  She moved so fast; he didn’t have a chance. He had shoved her, trying to get her back, away, and then there were fingers closing around his throat, and his back slammed into a brick wall. Cam had half a moment to realize there was nothing under his feet, and then
just as fast she let go, and his feet slammed into the ground. Ashley was backed up against the opposite wall, one hand imprisoning the other.

  “I’m fine,” Cam told her.

  “I’m not,” Ian said. “Dammit, that was really stupid. Troy, do me a favor, and maybe call someone. This is, wow, this is bleeding kind of a lot.”

  “Sure. I—you got a first aid kit?” Troy asked, pulling out his cell phone and heading over, with a last hard look at Ashley.

  Cam stepped between Ashley and the others. “We should go. Now.” She was staring at Ian, but when Cam touched her shoulder she wrenched herself away from the wall and bolted—out of the alley and across the street, into the sunlight. Out in the street, the sun was so bright the white stucco buildings glowed. Ashley clung to a bright, pockmarked wall as she gulped down air. “Stay away,” she rasped when Cam stepped toward her. “Stay back.”

  Cam stayed back, positioning himself between her and Level Up. Even though there’d be little he could do if she wanted back in.

  Ashley breathed in and out, then stopped and held her breath. “He’s—his hand,” she managed. “We should—” She stepped back warily. “You should—”

  “It’s not bad,” he told her, “just messy. You’re going to be okay.”

  Ashley nodded, but her fingers were still digging into the pockmarked stucco. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered softly.

  “What’s stupid?” he asked.

  “Me. Thinking I could—” She stopped and shook her head.

  Cam wasn’t sure what to say to that, and when he stepped forward she moved away. So he settled for, “Do you want to grab an ice cream?”

  There was the flicker of something behind those smoked lenses. She glanced at him? He really hated those glasses. “What?”

  “Ice cream. It’s always a good idea. And it’s hot out. Come on, my treat.”

  This was not how she expected this day to go. To be sitting on the beach, melting trails of ice cream and sprinkles dribbling down her hand. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d just…stopped, and sat on the beach. Listened to the low, steady thrum of the ocean as the waves peaked, crested, stretched out, and pulled back again. It was a comforting sound, if she let herself be comforted. The early evening sun was still warm against her skin, but there was a breeze, and the ice cream was a cool slippery slide down her throat.