Singing Fire

by T. L. Martin

  “Colorado,” he answered with an easy smile.

  “So close,” my aunt mumbled.

  “I didn’t know you were from Colorado,” I commented.

  He glanced at me. “You never asked.”

  My aunt leaned forward from the backseat. “Hey, it’s closer than Texas.”

  Matt looked back at me once more. “I didn’t know you were from Texas.”

  “You never asked.”

  He grinned partially, and like a lazy version of a soldier greeting an officer, he flicked his extended fingers off his forehead, as if to say ‘touché’.

  We pulled into a parking spot and hopped out of the truck. What was practically a leap for me was a small step for Matt and Stacy. We made our way to the receptionist, but Catalina wasn’t there this time. An older man stood in her place, scratching his balding head as he studied an article.

  We stopped at the desk, and he peered up at us. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” Stacy answered. “We’re looking to visit Raymond Kingston in room 13. Or 14?”

  The gentleman nodded and retrieved a hospital map. He circled where we stood, traced a line down the hall and to the right, then placed a star over room 13.

  “You’ll find him here,” he replied pleasantly, handing us the map. “Visiting hours end in ten minutes.”

  “Wow. We sure know how to cut it close,” Stacy muttered, as she led us down the hall.

  Room 13 was wide open when we approached, and the muffled sounds of a talk show streamed from the TV. I immediately sighed with relief as I spotted Ray. He was lolled comfortably beneath the white hospital blankets, with extra pillows fluffed behind him and two food trays to his right. I could only imagine what he had been putting the nurses through.

  “Ladies.” His etched frown lines wrinkled together as he smiled at the sight of us. He began to sit up, but I gently pressed him back and raised the bed electronically.

  “Ray,” Stacy shrieked, leaning in for a quick hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

  I took my turn after her in embracing him and set the food basket on his bedside.

  “You look great,” I said, thankful that it was true.

  Ray let out an exaggerated grunt. “Yeah, well...it’s no thanks to the nurses. You’d think they’d have a decent pillow, so I wouldn’t need to ask for three or a decent meal, so I wouldn’t need another tray.”

  I held back an amused smile and tried—probably unsuccessfully—to look stern. “They have a lot of people to check on, Ray.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Ray reached for the basket and withdrew a bread slice. “Thank goodness someone around here can bake.” He bit into the multi-colored treat and nodded his head approvingly.

  “So?” I nudged. “I thought Dr. Sampson said you were all good.”

  Ray stared at me blankly, feigning ignorance. He continued pleasantly munching away.

  “What happened, Ray?”

  “It was nothing,” he mumbled. “Just a little heart attack.”

  “A what?” Stacy intervened, hands on hips. “Ray, you should have called me. I would have flown back at once and come with Charlie to look after you.”

  “She’s right,” I said softly. “You know I would have come right away.”

  He shook his head firmly. “And that right there is exactly why I waited to say anything. I don’t need any looking after, all right?”

  “Someone’s been spending too much time with Charlie,” Stacy murmured, too low for him to hear.

  “You guys do more than enough for me as it is,” he continued. “And besides, I get out of here tonight.”

  “That’s great!” Stacy exclaimed. “You’re coming to stay with us. Charlie, you won’t mind looking after him for a week or so, will you?”

  Ray’s protests came before I could respond.

  “Well, that won’t be necessary. Diana looks after me just fine and–”

  “Don’t be silly, Ray,” Stacy interrupted. “Diana can still check on you at our place, but you need someone to stay with you at night. Now, I have another flight this evening, but you heard Charlie—and God knows the girl’s more qualified than I am for the job, anyhow.”

  “Who’s that?” Ray asked suddenly, ignoring my aunt and nudging his head toward Matt.

  Matt stepped out from behind me and held out a hand. “Matthew Shepard, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Ray shook his hand, if only out of obligation, letting out a disappointed grunt. “Huh. I thought it was your other friend.”

  I frowned. “What other friend?”

  “You know. That polite fellow. The one who brought me your messages. Derek?”

  “Do you mean...Desmond?”

  Ray nodded and gave one of his rare genuine smiles. “That’s the one. I missed him today.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: OUR LITTLE SECRET

  I glanced at Matt to gauge his reaction, but he looked as puzzled as I was.

  “Who’s Desmond, Charlie?” my aunt asked while stealing a slice of marbled banana bread from the basket and taking a small nibble.

  “No one, really,” I answered, trying to keep my voice casual. The less she knew about him—about any of it—the better.

  “Another boy?” My aunt raised an eyebrow, but I turned my attention back to Ray.

  “Wait,” I began slowly, trying to make sure I understood. “So Desmond brought you my notes? Not Diana?”

  “Diana?” Ray repeated. “No. It was Desmond who came by with your notes, and he’s been coming now and again to keep me company ever since. He’s really a pleasant fella,” he added vaguely, as though recalling the visits. “Got a good head on his shoulders, that one.”

  “Desmond,” I repeated yet again, pronouncing each syllable carefully.

  Stacy’s hands flew up in frustration. “For crying out loud, Charlie. You heard him.”

  I had never witnessed Ray speaking so fondly of anyone and could hardly believe his first time would be about Desmond Stone.

  A light rap on the door alerted us of a nurse.

  “So sorry to interrupt,” the nurse said meekly, “but visiting hours is closing.”

  “Shoot,” Stacy stated, peeking at her Kate Spade watch. “All right, Ray. Let the nurses know you can be released to Charlie, okay? What time should she be here?”

  A depleted Ray exhaled. “Eight o’clock. Sharp.”

  “Eight o’clock it is,” she replied satisfactorily. Stacy never did let up easily.

  As Stacy and Matt exited the room, I leaned forward to give Ray another hug and spotted a small white card on his bedside table.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Huh?” Ray asked before his eyes landed on the card. “Oh, it’s nothing. Really, it’s–”

  I snatched the card from the table before he could beat me to it and read the scribbled words aloud. “Dear Nurses Kelly and Sarah: Thank you for putting up with an old grump like me. Ray.”

  I dropped my jaw, and I narrowed my eyes accusingly. “I knew you had a heart.”

  “Don’t you start,” Ray grunted, but I could see a smile teasing the corner of his lips.

  Returning the card to the table, I planted a small kiss on the man’s wrinkled cheek.

  “See you soon, Ray.”

  Matt and Stacy were waiting outside the room for me. We made our way to the truck and climbed into our unspoken assigned seats. The engine revved loudly, and a soothing song faded into the background.

  Stacy caught my eye in the rear view mirror. She leaned forward. “Hey. You know what we should do?”

  “What’s that?” Matt asked patiently.

  “Visit the tea shop!”

  Matt and I exchanged glances, both of us scrambling to come up with anything resembling an excuse. He and I were technically human, and who knew if we would be capable of making the shop appear in her eyes. Even if we could, it wasn’t a world I was willing to introduce her to.

  “Here,” she urged, pointing to the stop sign we were fas
t approaching. “Make a right here. I have...” she peeked at her wrist watch once more, “four hours to kill.”

  Perfect wording, Stace. Matt did as instructed, and before I knew it, we were drifting through the familiar streets of Old Town. He could only drive so slowly without arousing suspicion. What now?

  “So, what now?” she asked, all but reading my mind. “Where is it?”

  Matt gestured straight ahead. “Just up there. On the right.”

  We pulled into an open spot directly in front of the shop and climbed out of the truck, with me racking my brain for an exit strategy.

  “I don’t see it,” Stacy commented, scanning the street carefully.

  “Well...” Matt began, struggling to find the words. “It’s not really... it’s kind of—”

  “What a pleasure,” came Priscilla’s calming voice. She had appeared suddenly beside us and warmly cupped her hands over my aunt’s. “You must be Charlie’s lovely aunt. She’s told me so much about you.”

  Stacy beamed proudly. “And you must be Priscilla. It’s so great to finally meet you.”

  Priscilla smiled kindly, her soothing effects already taking place. She looped an arm around Stacy’s and smoothly steered her away from the shop. But not before Stacy had stolen another curious look over her shoulder.

  “Oh! There it is! I see it!” Stacy exclaimed victoriously, pointing a finger proudly in the direction of the shop, which, thanks to Priscilla, was now revealed.

  “I was just heading out,” Priscilla said. “Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”

  Stacy looked back, as if to consult with me before responding. I shrugged to let her know the choice was hers.

  “I’d love to,” she answered, turning back to Priscilla.

  They took the lead, pacing casually several feet ahead of Matt and me. I could hear my aunt tell Priscilla of her surprise at never noting the shop before. She began to rattle off her recommended marketing strategies, using her fingers to demonstrate her points. She was in her element now. Marketing Guru to the rescue.

  “So, how’ve you been with all this?” I asked Matt. “Like, really?”

  “I’ve been good,” he replied, letting his hands rest in his pockets. “Seriously. It’s nice finally having a purpose in life, you know?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

  We strolled in silence for the few following moments. Old Town was quiet, and it was as peaceful as ever walking beneath the rumbling grey clouds.

  “Um. What was it that Desmond had to do?” I asked, trying to downplay my curiosity.

  “I don’t really know. I was just told he had somewhere to be.”

  “Huh.”

  “He seems to be warming up to you, though.” Matt gave my shoulder a playful slap.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “You know. He looked like he wanted to eat you when he first came by the shop.” He chuckled at his joke. “But when I came by this morning, he was all: ‘be attentive to Charlie’.” He quoted Desmond’s words in an overly deep and serious tone.

  I laughed quietly at his comical impersonation. “In other words, don’t let me out of your sight. Trust me...I don’t think Desmond could warm up to anyone.”

  “Maybe not.” Matt looked back at my aunt and Priscilla, observing them from a distance. “All I know is I’ve never heard him be so...attentive...to someone before.”

  “Joe!” My aunt’s loud shriek made me start as she giggled at the man standing beside Tony's Crabshack’s front door. “You scared me,” she teased, brushing his arm with her hand.

  Joe chuckled, gazing at her with love-struck eyes. He and I were similar in that he looked younger than he actually was, and his scruffy face and shaggy hair didn’t help the matter much.

  “Hey, Stace. Chu—Charlie.” He spoke shyly, removing the hat from his head and fidgeting with its rim.

  I smiled. He was even making an effort to abandon his previous nickname for me. “Hi, Joe.”

  He looked back nervously at my aunt. “I was hoping to bump into you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t until now that I realized Stacy was looking at Joe with equally admiring eyes.

  Priscilla cleared her throat. “Come to think of it, I believe I left something back at the shop.”

  I joined in. “How about Matt and I walk you back? Stacy, you could wait here if you want, with Joe.”

  Joe peered hopefully down at Stacy.

  “Yeah,” she replied, keeping her eyes on him. “I think I will.” She hooked her arm in a thrilled Joe’s.

  I bit back a smile before parting with her. With Matt and Priscilla on either side of me, we slowly made our way back the way we had come.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  Priscilla smiled, but she was looking at me closely. “Are you doing all right, my dear?”

  Even in walking down a plain, old road, Priscilla had a regal quality about her. Her floral dress danced subtly in the wind, with her long ashy hair following suit.

  “I’m okay. But...” I glanced over at Matt apologetically. “Do you think I can talk to her for a sec? Privately?”

  Matt halted and gestured for us to move ahead of him. “Not a problem.”

  I waited until there was a good amount of space between us and Matt before continuing.

  “I was just wondering...do you think Matt can take over on keeping an eye on things? Like, fully?” I finally asked.

  Priscilla’s eyebrows creased. “Well, sure. If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  “But, if I may, what’s wrong with Desmond, dear?”

  “Nothing,” I lied. “It’s just—I’m not comfortable with him.”

  “Hmm.” Priscilla stared thoughtfully ahead. If she had an opinion on the matter, she was keeping it to herself.

  I didn’t notice the coolness creeping smoothly up my spine until then and quickly scanned the street. When we approached the shop’s door, my suspicions were confirmed. Desmond stood in the shadows of the doorframe, his deep blue eyes only intensified by the darkness. Realizing he must have heard everything I said, I waited silently for him to speak first.

  “An update,” he said, handing a folded piece of paper to Priscilla.

  “Thank you, Desmond.” Without stopping to read it, she slipped the paper into her front pocket.

  He gave her a nod of his head, then locked his eyes with mine. I don’t know what I expected. Bitterness, maybe. Anger. Surely some resentment. But there was none of it. In fact, I couldn’t read him at all. He only lingered for a second, and then he was gone.

  The study abroad application for Health and Medicine took longer than expected. My fingers were numb, and my neck cramped, but at least the essay was finally completed. Just a few more sentences and the forms would be too.

  “Hope you like frozen pizza,” Matt called from the kitchen.

  Stacy had already left for the airport, and I knew Matt must have been bored out of his mind for the past two hours, waiting for me to finish this thing. But he was doing a good job of hiding it. He made his way into the living room and set a plate of cheese pizza before me just as I was signing my name at the bottom of the last form.

  Letting out a loud sigh, I pushed the pile of papers as far away from me as possible. “Finally,” I groaned. Folding my arms on the table, I rested my head dramatically over them.

  “All done?” he asked.

  I peeked up at him slightly from above my sleeve. “Yup. Thanks for waiting around while I did all that. And for the pizza,” I added, taking a bite.

  “Yeah. No biggie.”

  “Obviously, it’s not like I would ever go to the thing,” I thought aloud. “But it’d make Stacy happy to see me pursuing something, you know?”

  Matt plopped onto the sofa and tore into his pizza. “Hey, I think it’s great. What I wanna know is: why Canada?” He grinned, shaking his head. “I mean, you could have chosen Europe, Africa, or Asia or something. I get that it’s
just a fantasy, but still...why not make it an awesome one?”

  I laughed. “That’s kind of the point. Canada’s so close to us, and Stacy’s been there a thousand times for work. If I applied anywhere else and got accepted, I wouldn’t hear the end of it until I actually went. Plus, anywhere else, I’m willing to bet she’d pack her bags and go with me.”

  “Hmm. Smart,” Matt said approvingly. He was flashing me the smooth smile that he used with all the girls.

  I rolled my eyes and tossed a pillow at his face, and he snickered. I was already growing comfortable with him and his easy company.

  “Shoot. We have to go,” I said, catching sight of the clock on the wall. Ray would be waiting for us.

  We dumped our plates in the sink and headed out. I was about to begin on foot when I saw Matt hop into his truck. That was going to take some getting used to. Walking had always been a preference of mine, and Desmond would usually step alongside me.

  It was getting dark out, and there were hardly any cars on the road. We made it to the hospital in record time. The man from earlier was still manning the reception desk, but his head was buried into the local paper when we passed by. Turning around the corner, we were immediately greeted by a man in uniform as he carefully backed out of a room, pulling a gurney through the doorway. It took me a moment before I realized which room it must have been.

  “Excuse me,” I called, my voice cracking as the panic rose in my chest. “Is that room 13?”

  The man stopped and looked back at me. “Yes, ma’am.”

  No. It couldn’t be him...could it?

  Finally ungluing my feet from the tiled floor, I raced toward the gurney. A white hospital sheet was sprawled over a limp body.

  Trying to steady my shaking hands, I touched the thin sheet with my fingertips.

  “Raymond Kingston?” I asked, holding my breath.

  He looked at me sympathetically before gently answering, “Yes, ma’am. Are you family?”

  I closed my eyes. “I’m all he has. How...what happened?”

  “I’m afraid he suffered from another heart attack, ma’am.”