Singing Fire

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Singing Fire Page 10

by T. L. Martin


  “Wow, Stace.” My mood lifted slightly. I was genuinely excited for her. “That’s so great. You deserve it.”

  “Thank you! I’m kind of nervous, though. Really nervous, actually. I was listening to some of the details, and this one is going to be bigger than anything I’ve done before.”

  “You sure you want to do it then?” I asked. My own nerves were threatening to swell up again, and I was grateful that I’d chosen to remain in the safety net that was my bedroom.

  “Are you kidding?” she squealed. “Yes, I’m sure! What good would it do for me to hide out, when something as huge as this is staring me right in the face? I mean, yes, I have a lot to learn before I’ll be up to their caliber on this...so I will definitely need to get prepared.”

  I paused, realizing the plain truth behind her words.

  “Right. Yeah,” I muttered thoughtfully. “How exactly are you going to do that?”

  “By studying them, of course,” she stated, as though it was obvious. “What better way to learn than from the experts themselves? I’ll observe them, take in anything they can teach me. That way, even if it doesn’t work out here and I totally embarrass myself, at least I’ll be better equipped for the next time, right?”

  My attention shifted toward my closed window blinds. I pulled them open, lightly scanning the area for Desmond as Aunt Stacy’s words replayed themselves in my head.

  It was only a second later that I spotted him. His back was turned to me, his imposing figure casting a long shadow on the ground and his dark hair slightly wild from the wind. Without warning, his head turned over his shoulder, and his dark blue eyes found their way straight into mine.

  “You there, Charlie?”

  I jumped at the sound of her voice, immediately dropping the blinds.

  “Hmm? Yes. I’m here,” I finally managed. “That sounds like a good plan, Stace. Great advice too, actually. Hey, can I call you later?”

  “But it’s only been a couple of min—” She stopped briefly. “Wait...great advice? Really? Well, I have been doing more reading lately, and I think I’m—”

  “Uh-huh. That’s great. Love you.”

  “Okay, yeah. Love you, too.”

  What better way to learn than from the experts themselves? I’ll observe them, take in anything they can teach me. Her words repeated themselves again. I headed downstairs. I still didn’t have a solid plan, but I figured I may as well begin with getting better acquainted with myself. After which, I can observe the experts.

  I almost forgot to grab Ray’s note on my way out. Seeing it still on the counter, I tucked it into my pocket just in case and locked up. Desmond was nowhere in sight.

  Turning on my heel for the steps, I jumped back with a start. He was standing inches away from me now, solid as a wall and tall enough to block my view of anything else.

  “Oh. I—uh,” I stammered. “Excuse me.”

  “Are you ready?” he asked simply.

  “Will I ever be?”

  He didn’t answer, but something darkened in his eyes. His stare traced along my face again, almost like he was searching for something.

  “Actually, I just want to take a walk right now.”

  He stepped aside to let me pass.

  We stopped at Ray’s first. I knocked lightly on his door. When there was no answer, I knocked again, more loudly this time. Still no answer. The white edges of my previous note caught my attention beneath his doorframe, and I frowned.

  “What is it?” Desmond asked.

  I withdrew the note from my pocket and slipped it beside the other one. “My neighbor; he should have been home by now.”

  I didn’t wait for his response and began walking again. I relaxed slightly when he followed and didn’t question about Ray, some part of me not wanting to discuss such a close friend with someone I hardly knew. As I made my way toward my newly decided destination, it looked a lot like I was heading to the shop. I traveled up 11th Street and made my way under the welcome sign for Old Town.

  Desmond said nothing during the walk, and I found myself relieved that he wasn’t pressing me for answers, as most others in his shoes would. He hadn’t the slightest idea where we were headed, yet he followed alongside me dutifully. I didn’t know why, but it made me more comfortable; knowing he wouldn’t judge me, or pressure me, for my lack of words made me feel like it would also be okay to speak my mind.

  Of course, it was his everlasting cryptic expression that gave me such an impression, and he could just as likely have been judging my every movement, every act, in his dark and silent solitude.

  I hadn’t noticed how closely we had been walking, side by side, until the smoothness of his skin touched my hand. The stroke was soft and brief, but something about it immediately made my stomach tighten. I glanced discreetly down, seeing his hand right there, beside my own, and slowly brought my gaze up to meet his. His eyes were already on me, guarded as ever and yet filled to the brim with intensity.

  I didn’t know why the moment seemed to freeze, but I needed to look away...to put some distance between us.

  Suddenly, Desmond lowered his head and dove beneath the nearest awning. I heard his low voice curse beneath his breath as he briefly examined the blistering red skin on his right hand, just below the length of his sleeves.

  “Your hand,” I gasped.

  His lips pressed together firmly and he gave a slight shake of his head, gazing up at the sky above me. I followed his line of sight and noticed the few rays of sunlight managing to pierce through the darkening clouds, making their way straight down onto the sidewalk. Soon the rays of sun would be gone completely, as the day progressed, but in the meantime, they were putting up a good fight. I looked back at his hand again, but the burn was already starting to heal. The pain itself didn’t seem to faze him in the least, but he was clearly frustrated.

  “I can see the shop from here,” he mumbled bitterly. “Quinn will replace me in accompanying you for the moment.”

  “Are you oka—” He was gone before I could finish the question.

  CHAPTER SEVEN: A CLOSER LOOK

  Quinn exited the shop just moments after Desmond had disappeared behind its doors.

  “Hey,” she said, glumly. Her expression was surprisingly ominous as she surveyed me, and she looked like she was in dire need of a good night’s sleep. “So...where are we headed?”

  I began walking again, glad we were already so close. My attention was still stuck on Desmond, the fierce anger that fueled in his eyes before he’d vanished, but I certainly didn’t want to mention his name to Quinn—especially with the curious state she seemed to be in.

  “Ever checked out Washed Ashore?” I asked.

  She glanced at me. “The exhibit?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “I see the place all the time, of course. Seems to get a lot of attention. But I’ve never been inside.”

  It was coming into view now, the building I once used to spend my loneliest of days lost inside. I was pleased when I saw the line of eagerly awaiting people that spiraled past its entrance. Though I had always made it a point to come on its quiet days in the past, I was counting on the weekend masses to populate the premises for my current purposes.

  “Think you’re up for it today?”

  She shrugged a shoulder, her voice distant. “Sure.”

  Something was definitely bothering her. She wasn’t one to open up easily, but maybe the exhibit would help to take her mind off of whatever it was for a little while. I steered us around to the rear end of the building, following my old path as though a day of its absence hadn’t passed. Quinn trailed behind me until I spotted the backdoor usually reserved for employees. I wasn’t sure if it would open when I reached for the knob, but luckily they still kept it unlocked during the day.

  The room looked exactly the same as it had the last time I was here three years ago, save for the newer sculptures. Skillfully crafted jellyfish hung sporadically along the ceilings, immediately livening the otherwise
bland, white walls with splashes of pinks, greens, and yellows. I noticed Quinn eyeballing the impressive whale bone sculpture, but I didn’t pause there.

  We weaved our way through the crowd, children screaming and playing with the interactive artwork all around us, and she followed me through another door. This one led us back into the soft sunlight outside, to an area dispersed with larger sculptures. Here, we were greeted by a harbor seal, shark, swordfish, and sea turtle, amongst others.

  I made my way to the green sea turtle, sitting down beside it and gently placing a hand over its hard nose. This particular creature used to comfort me on the worst of days, when the kids at school were no longer satisfied with their smalltime locker teasing and decided to try a more physical approach. I scoffed, thinking back to the kickboxing I started teaching myself around that time. If they could only try their stunts on me now.

  Quinn was watching me curiously, and I realized how strange I must look crouched down beside the inanimate object.

  “I used to come here a lot,” I said quietly. It wasn’t so crowded out here, and the atmosphere’s comforting vibe enveloped me as I spoke. “After school, on the particularly bad days. There was just something about it.”

  Quinn furrowed an eyebrow. She looked around once more, as though trying to fathom how such a place could soothe me. “Here?” she asked skeptically. “Don’t get me wrong, these pieces are pretty cool. But I don’t see the correlation.”

  I smiled, standing up to meet her. “That’s just it. It looks cool from a distance. Maybe a little intriguing.”

  I gestured for her to come forward and get a better look at the sculpture. Hesitantly, she complied. She pulled her dark hair back from her face as she peered down at the piece.

  “But when you get closer,” I explained, “you can see how sad it really is.”

  Quinn had completely crouched down on her own accord now, inspecting the piece thoroughly. She glanced up at me, her eyes narrowed in disbelief as she pointed to the head of the turtle. “Is that...a trash bin?”

  I nodded in confirmation. “Everything here, every sculpture, was made completely from the waste left in the sea. Water bottles, plastic, foam...trash bins.”

  She was eying the turtle closely again, her fingers tracing along the green rope that made up a part of its shell.

  “If you look even closer, you can see the bite marks in some of them...animals mistaking it for food. Some people came forward to start this awareness project, dedicating themselves to it day and night.”

  Quinn was lightly stroking the turtle now, and I could tell it was beginning to resonate with her in much the same way it had with me.

  “My point is,” I continued, wandering to a neighboring creature and losing myself in its colorful sorrow, “no matter how things appear on the outside, there’s always a deeper story. A past. Everyone has their scars. But, more than that...this place, to me, is a reminder that there’s always someone strong enough to make things better. To bring out the beauty in an otherwise neglected and tainted sea.”

  I heard Quinn’s shoes slide on the pavement as she finally stood, and I turned my attention to her. I was taken aback at the look of sadness that had overtaken her usually tough exterior, and my stomach sank. It wasn’t my intention to make her feel worse.

  “Wow. I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t realize how depressing and stuffy that all sounded. I did a full dissertation on the project, and I just get so—”

  “No,” she muttered, folding her arms across her chest uncomfortably. “Don’t be sorry.”

  She left it at that, and I waited patiently as she strolled over to examine the other pieces. For me, this place was the second best therapy, right after getting my adrenaline going. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t missed it all these years.

  “So, why’d you stop coming?” Quinn asked over her shoulder, pulling me out of my train of thought.

  “Hmm?”

  “You said you ‘used to’ come here. Why’d you stop?”

  This time it was my turn to shrug a shoulder. “Some not-so-nice kids from school found out I liked to come here. They started showing up, picking fights. Bored, I guess.” I chewed the inside of my lip, the vivid images forcing their way back into view. “The worst part, though, was when they started breaking in after dark, wrecking the sculptures and dumping the waste back into the ocean. Apparently I gave them the reaction they were looking for, because they kept it up until I stopped coming altogether.”

  When I glanced back at Quinn, I was relieved to see there was no sympathy in her eyes. Instead, she had regained her hardened exterior, looking about ready to get some payback with me.

  “I almost hoped to run into them today,” I said half-jokingly, raising my eyebrows challengingly. “I didn’t know how to fight back then.”

  Quinn grinned, and I felt something shift between us. I didn’t know what it was, but it was there, nevertheless. It was as though a part of the wall between us had broken down some, just enough to let a breath of fresh air seep through.

  “Anyway,” I announced, clapping my hands together, “believe it or not, I didn’t just come here out of my deep love for environmental lectures.”

  Her lips twitched upward. “No?”

  “Actually, I wanted to test something, and I figured it’s always so crowded here around this time...” My voice trailed off as I nudged her lightly to follow, heading back through the exhibit until we had reached its entrance. We stepped back outside and onto the sidewalk, and I took a seat on an empty bench. Though Quinn was clearly confused, she sat beside me.

  “Ah,” she said, feigning sudden understanding. “Why lecture when you could sit on a bench? We’re shameless party animals, you and I.”

  She let out a brief and playful laugh, leaning back against the seat, and I noticed how relaxed she looked now. Come to think of it, I couldn’t recall ever having heard her genuinely laugh before, even if it was fleeting. I smiled. Maybe I had succeeded in taking her mind off of whatever troubled her after all.

  There was a steady stream of people strolling along the sidewalks, coming and going from the exhibit or exploring other shops. A prime time for leisurely weekend activities and a prime location to match.

  I closed my eyes, zoning in on the various sensations flowing through my body at different times. Although the chilling sensation was helpful in determining a vampire’s presence, I hadn’t yet been able to pinpoint the source. I’d never noticed any warm breezes behind my ear, which meant either I hadn’t come across any demons, or I wasn’t reading my senses properly. Then again, Pixie did say demons were scarce here.

  If I was going to learn about this foreign world, a good place to start would be with honing my own senses.

  Trying to quiet my surroundings, I listened to my body, calming myself in a meditation-like way. There, a sharp coolness nipped at my tailbone, rushing up my spine like it was chasing something. If I concentrated enough, I could feel a shift in pressure on certain angles of my body. This one was coming solely from behind me.

  Opening my eyes, I turned my head slightly over my shoulder. I swept the commotion of people lingering along the grass, until finally pausing on a thin, lanky man maybe twenty feet or so away from our bench. He was leaning against a tree, shaded by its full body of leaves and not far from a small group of young, fair-haired tourists who had gathered outside the exhibit. There was hardly any sunlight seeping through the heavy clouds anymore, and I could even hear a soft rumbling above our heads.

  “There,” I whispered to Quinn, who had already followed my gaze.

  “Not bad,” she acknowledged. She knew just what I was doing. “But you missed one.”

  I frowned. I hadn’t even thought that there might be another, but that would explain the unusual sharpness accompanying the sensation. I tried to focus on the feeling again, leaving my eyes open this time as I simultaneously scoured the area. Where was it coming from? She couldn’t be referring to Desmond. He wasn’t near enough
for me to sense, and this didn’t feel like him anyway.

  Quinn nudged her head to our right, and I followed her eyes.

  Sure enough, a hooded figure shaded by a black umbrella was standing solidly in place on the open sidewalk. This one was female, her dark hair falling like a curtain over half of her face. I realized I had seen her before, recalling the vexed woman who’d recently purchased a hoodie and pair of gloves from me at the tea shop. She was wearing them now, along with a heavily tinted black pair of sunglasses. It seemed odd that she and the male were standing so still, especially in the midst of all the commotion happening around them.

  From the way Quinn’s eyes were now darting back and forth at the pair, she seemed to be noticing the same thing.

  “We should go,” she murmured.

  She lead me calmly through the crowd, all but attached to my hip, and it wasn’t until the shop’s door swung firmly shut behind us that she stepped away, giving both of us some space.

  “What is it?” I jumped at the sound of Desmond’s deep voice, not having noticed him leaning against the far wall to my left.

  Quinn refused to look at him when she answered, as she maneuvered her way behind the counter where Pixie was listening attentively. “There are two vampires just down the street. One male, one female.”

  Pixie’s eyes widened. “But that’s nothing unusual right?” she asked hopefully. “I mean, we see vampires everyday who don’t know anything about...you know.”

  Quinn gave a shrug, but her lips were grim. “Maybe not. They’re definitely up to something, though.”

  Without a word and quicker than my eyes could easily follow, Desmond threw his hands into a pair of the shop’s leather gloves. The next thing I knew, the shop door was swinging idly in his wake.

  “But there’s still some sun,” I thought out loud, noticing how he hadn’t grabbed a hoodie.

  Quinn let out a snort.

 

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