Whirlwind

by Robert Liparulo

  “Did you?” Jesse asked.

  “No, we had to go.”

  Jesse didn’t say anything, just looked into David’s eyes.

  “We were supposed to get him?” David said.

  “It’s your purpose,” Jesse said. “The reason you and the house and that event in the Civil War came together.”

  “But . . . we didn’t do it.”

  Jesse smiled. “You’ll get another chance.”

  David looked at Xander, at Keal. He felt that something big was happening, but wasn’t sure what it was.

  “Jesse,” he said. “I don’t understand. Out of all the people who died in the Civil War, why that guy? Why do I have to help save him?”

  “David,” Jesse said, “your job is not to help save him.”

  “It’s not? But—”

  Jesse squeezed his hand again. “Your job is to get the doctor. That’s what you were asked to do.”

  “Aren’t they the same thing?”

  Jesse waggled his head. “Maybe . . . maybe not. What happens afterward is not your concern. If someone you trust asks you to do a task, you just do it. You trust they have a good reason for asking.”

  “But, Jesse,” David said, “who’s asking?”

  Jesse smiled. “Who do you think? Who set it all in motion?

  Who made time? Who made you?”

  David opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked at Xander and Keal, but their expressions reflected his own confusion. He turned back to Jesse. He whispered, “God?”

  Jesse’s smile widened. His eyes slowly closed.

  “Jesse?” David said.

  The old man began to snore.

  CHAPTER

  twenty - three

  FRIDAY, 7:13 A . M.

  “You heard him,” Xander said. “We need to go back to Young Jesse’s time right away.” He was turned sideways in the front passenger seat of Keal’s rented Dodge Charger. “David promised him. Right, Dae?” He looked over the seat at David.

  David shrugged, not wanting to get involved. This time, he did think Xander had a point, but he liked Keal and didn’t want the guy ticked at him.

  “David said you guys would do it as soon as you could,”

  Keal said, “and that’s not now.” He pulled off Main Street to the frontage road that led to Pinedale Middle and Senior High School.

  When Xander saw how close they were, he slapped the dash and said, “No, no, no! Come on, Keal, be cool.”

  Keal cast Xander a sharp eye. “You think I’m not cool?”

  Xander looked stricken. “No . . . I mean . . . yeah, you’re cool, but it’s not cool we have to go to school.”

  Keal grinned back at David, who laughed, slapped his brother on the shoulder, and said, “He so played you.”

  David thought Keal was way too cool to ever worry about being cool. Keal didn’t care if Xander thought he was cool or not.

  Keal said, “Xander, I promised your dad I’d get you to school.”

  “Call him!” Xander said. “You’re going to go buy those phones he talked about, right? That could be the first call we make. The store’s like a mile from here. It’d take ten minutes.”

  Keal checked the clock on the dash. “He’s in the air, and he doesn’t have the phone. Now, stop. Don’t you get tired of arguing the same thing over and over?”

  Xander humphed, straightened in his seat, and folded his arms across his chest. He mumbled, “Maybe it’s a teenage thing.”

  Keal pulled into the school’s drop-off lane and waited to move forward. “Got lunch money?” he asked.

  When Xander ignored him, David said, “It’s on an account.”

  Keal pulled up, and Xander hopped out.

  “Thanks, Keal,” David said. “See you at three.” He caught up with Xander and told him, “You shouldn’t treat Keal that way.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s on our side,” David said. “He’s just doing what he promised Dad. He’s right, you know.”

  “What, that we should keep up appearances, that we go to school, even though it’s doing nothing to rescue—”

  He stopped, and David knew why: there were too many kids around to have this conversation. About a dozen of those kids jostled against the brothers getting through the main doors. Xander turned left, heading for the high school wing. David grabbed his arm.

  “I mean you arguing the same thing over and over,” David said. “We know you’re gung ho and Dad’s more cautious. Why can’t you just go along for a while? Dad’s starting to get it. He’s doing more. Give him some time.”

  Xander got a handful of David’s shirt and pulled him out of the student traffic. He pushed him against a locker and leaned close. “We don’t have time,” he whispered harshly. “Even Jesse thinks we don’t.” He lowered his gaze to his fist, entwined with the shirt and pressed against David’s breastbone. He frowned, released his grip, and smoothed the material over David’s chest.

  Then he turned, pressed his back against a locker, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor.

  David did the same, saying nothing.

  “Sorry, Dae,” Xander said.

  They pulled their legs up to keep them from being trampled.

  “Remember the other day,” Xander said, “when I said it felt like things were building up, that something big was going to happen and we had to prepare for it?”

  David nodded. He had been taking a bath after returning from the Titanic. Xander had tromped in, saying things like We’ll sleep when we’re dead. It had worried David because it seemed that his brother was going crazy from stress and frustration and exhaustion. He wanted to do everything all at once: secure the house, go into as many worlds as possible, without planning, without thought—anything to get Mom, get her now! Dad and Keal had slammed on the brakes, forcing Xander to sleep. It had helped his brother’s craziness—or so David had thought.

  “I still feel that way,” Xander said. “Even more. All that stuff with Taksidian yesterday. What Jesse said today.” He rolled his head toward David. “Don’t you feel it?”

  David felt a lot of things. They were juggling too many problems—needing to find Mom, trying to survive the horrors of the worlds they had to go into to find her, staying alive in this world, keeping the house so they could keep looking . . . not to mention all the emotions that came with everything they’d experienced.

  He said, “Feel what, exactly?”

  “Like . . .” Xander rocked his head back and forth, thinking. “Like there’s a ticking bomb under us, and it’s getting ready to go off.”

  David nodded. “Now that you put it that way.”

  “Dae,” Xander said, “I don’t think we have all the time in the world. I don’t think Mom does.”

  “So what are we supposed to do?”

  “I don’t—” Xander stopped. He looked down the hallway, one way, then the other. The mass of kids had thinned out as they hurried to class before first bell. “Yes, I do know.” He stood, then helped David up.

  “What?” David said.

  “What we can, when we can,” he said with a smile David didn’t like. “Right?”

  “Well . . . yeah.” Simple enough. David still had to get to his locker before class. He said, “I gotta go—”

  “Listen,” Xander interrupted. “Just after class starts, meet me in the bathroom.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just do it, okay?”

  David thought about it. He shook his head. “I can’t get out of class. Mrs. Moreau . . . the other day she told one kid she didn’t care if his bladder burst, that he should have thought about it before class.”

  “Then we won’t go to class,” Xander said. He grabbed David’s sleeve. “Come on.”

  David pulled his arm away. “Wait. Why?”

  Xander looked around. “We’re getting out of here. Can’t you hear it? The house is calling us.”

  CHAPTER

  twenty - four

  FRIDAY, 7:28 A.M.
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  “What do you mean, the house is calling us?” David said.

  Xander didn’t answer. He just grabbed David’s sleeve again and pulled him toward the bathroom on the cafeteria side of the school.

  David sighed and fell into step beside his brother.

  They passed the middle school classrooms on the left. The right wall was mostly windows, looking out on the front courtyard and, beyond it, the drop-off and pickup lane. David craned his head around to see the west end of the courtyard, where the administration wing—and Dad’s office—was. As they walked, the outbuilding that contained the auto shop came into view. It was there that Taksidian had stood yesterday, watching for them. Instead, David, Xander, and Dad had waited for him to leave so they could follow him. He wasn’t there now.

  They were approaching the end of the main hallway. The bathrooms were around the corner, in a shorter hall that housed lockers, but no classrooms. Then it dawned on him what Xander was planning. He said, “Xander, wait. You’re not thinking about—”

  “Alexander King!” The voice came from behind them, bold and sharp as broken bones.

  Xander turned. He said, “Uh-oh.”

  A boy about seventeen years old strode toward them. He was scowling so severely, his entire brow make a ledge above his eyes. His arms swung like a marching soldier’s. He wore a tight T-shirt that showed off the hours he’d spent working out. His pecs bulged, his arms strained the shirt’s armholes.

  “Who—?” David started.

  “Dan Rainey,” Xander answered.

  “The car guy? But I thought Taksidian . . .”

  The guy marched right up to Xander, bumping his chest into Xander’s considerably less developed one. “What’d you do to my car, dawg?”

  Xander had to tip his head way back to look Dan in the face. He said, “I . . . uh . . .”

  David inched away from his brother. He would need the room to pivot around and bring his cast up into Dan’s cranium. There was still enough plaster under the Ace bandage that it should do some damage. Enough, anyway, to give them a fair head start for the door. Yeah, it would hurt—might even rebreak his arm—but not as much as Dan’s fists.

  “I’ll tell you what you did,” Dan yelled, spraying spittle into Xander’s face. “You showed it to Jimbo.” His face lit up, suddenly sporting a toothy grin and happy eyes. “Dude!” He raised his palm high in the hair.

  Xander, his face morphing into a comical blend of fear and puzzlement, slapped Dan’s hand. He backed away a step, wiped his face.

  “I knew my little Buggy was a sweet ride,” Dan said, “but Jimbo flipped for it, man. Said he had one like it in college and had to have it.”

  “Jimbo?” Xander said.

  “Jim . . . Jim . . .” Dan said, scrunching his face, searching for a last name. “You know . . .”

  “Taksidian?” David said.

  “That’s it,” Dan said. “How ya doing, little dude?” He backhanded David’s shoulder.

  David rubbed the spot. “Better,” he said, and thought, Now that you’re not going to kill my brother.

  “He’s one creepy dude, isn’t he?” Dan said. “That Jimbo.

  Oops, sorry . . . what is he, your uncle or something?”

  “Something,” Xander said.

  “Hey, listen,” Dan said, becoming serious. “I know I should probably give you something. You know, a finder’s fee. But me and my dad are going car shopping this weekend, and I don’t know what I’m going to need. Those add-ons can get expensive, I hear. GPS, thousand-watt amps, stuff like that.”

  “That’s okay,” Xander said. “I’m just glad you’re cool with the deal.”

  “Cool? Ha! I’m ice cold.” He cocked his head, seeming to think about his words. “Ice cold in a good way,” he clarified.

  “Hey, gotta run. Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.” He sought another high five, and Xander gave it to him. Then he was off, marching down the long hall.

  “That guy’s in your class?” David asked.

  “I think he was held back.”

  “Taksidian works fast.”

  “Yeah,” Xander said, something on his mind. “He does.”

  “Now I do have to go to the bathroom,” David said. He hurried around the corner, past the lockers, where some kids were still mingling, and into the bathroom.

  A boy was washing his hands when they entered. David stepped up to a urinal. Xander pushed open each of the three stall doors. The kid left, and David went to the sink.

  “David,” Xander whispered. “Get in.” He jerked his head toward a stall. “Hurry.”

  “Xander—”

  “Hurry. There are always last-minute potty-breakers. Get in before they see us.”

  David shook his head and went into the stall.

  “Lock the door,” Xander instructed. “Put your feet up.” He went into the next stall.

  “You’re going through the locker portal, aren’t you?” David whispered.

  “Shhh.”

  Someone entered the bathroom. A urinal flushed. Footsteps echoed away.

  Oh, wash your hands, David thought.

  “You can’t go through the locker,” he said. “We’re supposed to be in school. They’ll tell Dad.”

  “This is our chance, Dae,” Xander said. “Do what we can, when we can, remember?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “This is when. Old Jesse said to get back to see Young Jesse soon. It’s important. Keal’s not going to be home for a while. He’s gotta get the phones and visit Nana.”

  “We can do it just as easily after school,” David said. “Why now?”

  “Tick, tick, tick,” Xander said.

  “That’s not fair. It doesn’t mean you can just—”

  A urinal flushed.

  David froze. He even stopped breathing.

  A shadow stirred on the tiles under the stall door. Sneakered feet stepped into view. Knees touched the floor, a hand.

  Anthony’s face peered under the door. He was one of three kids who had befriended David the first day of school.

  “David!” Anthony said. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. You always snoop on people in the toilet?”

  Anthony grinned. “Only when someone’s hiding. Who are you talking to?”

  “My brother.”

  Xander said, “Go away.”

  “You going to skip?” Anthony said. “Your dad’s the principal.” The idea obviously amazed him.

  “Don’t tell anybody,” David said. “Okay?”

  “Tell who what?” he said and laughed.

  The bell rang.

  “Oh, crumb,” Anthony said and vanished, leaving only his echoing footsteps.

  “Now what?” David said.

  “Give the hall five minutes to clear,” Xander said. “Now be quiet.”

  An order easy for David’s mouth to obey. Not so easy for his heart.

  CHAPTER

  twenty - five

  FRIDAY, 7:30 A.M.

  Standing in front of the motel door, Keal scanned the parking lot. Only a few parked cars, none with anyone inside as far as he could tell. He watched the street in front of the complex. A van cruised past, then a car heading the other direction. Neither had slowed or revealed people inside who appeared interested in the place. Satisfied he hadn’t been followed and that the room wasn’t being watched, he knocked.

  The curtain behind a window pushed back, and he waved.

  Nana opened the door. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were red, as though she had been crying.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She touched her cheek, tried to smile. “I’ve been so worried.

  What’s going on? How’s everyone? How’s Jesse?”

  Keal gave her a big grin. “Everyone’s fine,” he said, stepping in. “The boys and I just saw Jesse at the hospital. He’s better.” He held up a cup and a plastic bag dangling from the same hand. “Coffee and bagels, courtesy of 7-11.”

  She pr
essed her hand over her eyes, then took the coffee from him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just . . . I feel as though I should be there, back at the house, helping.”