by E. L. Todd
“Of course we will,” Breccan spat. “Those things are always there.”
Calloway wasn’t sure why they were drawn to the Grandiose Historian Library but Breccan was right—they were always there. He’d never run into one anywhere else—at school, the store, on the streets, anywhere—and the revelation made him sit up in his chair. “They’re always at the library.”
Breccan glared at his cousin. “I just said that. Are you deaf?”
“But it’s true,” he said. “There’s something about the library that attracts them. What is it?”
Easton shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“We’ll research the building tomorrow,” Calloway said. “They want something from the building or they are hiding in it. There has to be a reason. And why else would my father leave the Kirin Book there? We are missing something.”
Easton nodded. “We’ll head over right after you’re dismissed from detention.”
Breccan rolled his eyes. “Or teacher’s pet time.”
Calloway stared at his cousin. “Why does it bother you that I spend time with Mr. Avey?”
Breccan looked away. “Forget it,” he said.
Calloway was going to question him further but the lunch bell rang. Calloway completed his afternoon classes and avoided Hawk as much as possible in photography. Later, Mr. Avey and he worked on his personal statement and edited the first draft, making it as clean as possible.
“Now let’s submit the applications,” Mr. Avey said as he sat in the desk beside Calloway. They both looked at Calloway’s new computer. “You can upload your SAT scores after you take the exam.”
Calloway nodded as he chose the school he was interested in attending.
“Dartmouth?” Mr. Avey asked. “That’s a fine school.”
Calloway shrugged. “I probably won’t get in. I just wanted to try anyway.”
“I have a feeling you will.”
Calloway entered the information for his applications then the payment information came on the screen. He was getting paid this afternoon but he didn’t have the money or a credit card to make the purchase. After his teacher paid for his formal fee and bought him a computer, Calloway felt awkward asking for more money. The college applications required a purchase through a card and Calloway had no access to one—he had to be eighteen. If Mr. Avey didn’t do it, he would have to ask Uncle Scott—something he wanted to avoid.
Mr. Avey pulled out of his credit card and typed in the information for Calloway. The order was finalized and the application was sent. Now Mr. Avey paid for his educational expenses again and Calloway felt guilty—it wasn’t his teacher’s responsibility. After he received his payment this afternoon he would reimburse his teacher.
“I’ll pay you back,” Calloway said. “I get my check today.”
“I know,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, Calloway,” he said. “You’re a good kid.”
He thought about his second job as a Hara-Kir hunter, risking his life on a daily basis, in addition to the dark thoughts he had about punching Hawk in the face. “You don’t know me very well.” Calloway smiled.
“Actually, I think I do,” he said. “Are you ready for Saturday?”
Calloway shrugged. “It’s going to be a hectic day,” he said. “But I think I’m ready.”
“I was referring to the SAT.” Mr. Avey smiled.
“And I was referring to both.” Calloway laughed. “The exam and the dance. But I’m more frightened of the formal.”
“And why is that?”
Calloway was quiet for a moment. “I’m going with a girl. I don’t know how to act around them.”
Mr. Avey laughed. “Women are very unusual creatures,” he said. “But isn’t this young woman your friend?”
“Yes.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mr. Avey said. “You’ll do fine.”
“I hope so.”
“Do you have a ride to the exam?” he asked.
Calloway thought for a moment. “I was going to ride my bike.”
“At seven o’clock in the morning?” Mr. Avey asked incredulously. He shook his head. “I’ll take you there. Write down your address and I’ll pick you up.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m always awake early on weekends anyway.”
Calloway wrote down his address and handed it to Mr. Avey. “Thanks,” he said.
“And I can provide some moral support on the way. Make you stay calm.”
“Could you do that on the way to the dance, too?” Calloway asked.
Mr. Avey laughed. “You’re on your own for that one.”
Calloway sighed. “Darn.” He looked at the clock in the front of the room. “I need to get to work,” he said. “And go by the bank before it closes.”
Mr. Avey nodded. “I’ll see you later, Calloway.”
Calloway left the classroom and grabbed his bike from the metal rack. His shift started in an hour but he wanted to cash his first check before he started his workday. When he arrived at the shop, he saw an envelope by the timecard with his name on it. He opened the letter and frowned when he saw the amount of taxes that were taken out of his check—it was unbelievable.
“I know,” Marquan said as he opened his own envelope. “They are practically stealing from us.”
Calloway sighed. “Some money is better than no money.”
Marquan shrugged. “I guess.”
“I’ll be back,” Calloway said. “I’m going to cash this before I start work.”
“Cool,” he said.
Calloway went to the bank across the street and cashed the check. He stuffed the money inside of his wallet and felt elated—he never had money before. When he returned to the shop, he clocked in and worked his shift, fantasizing about how he could spend the money. He knew he couldn’t buy anything—he had to return Mr. Avey’s loan and purchase a tie for the formal.
While business was slow, Calloway looked at the weekly schedule and felt his heart fall when he read it—he was working on Saturday. It was the day he scheduled to take the SAT and it was the night of the formal dance, and he specifically asked for the whole day off. He wasn’t sure what to do.
When we walked back to the front, Joe was inserting more bills into the register before he left for the day. “Hello, Calloway.” He smiled. “Just got done with school?”
“Yes,” Calloway said. Since he never had a job before he wasn’t sure how to go about this. He requested the day off so he knew it wasn’t his fault—this problem shouldn’t have happened at all.
“Can I talk to you about something?” Calloway asked.
“Of course,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Well, I’m scheduled to work this Saturday but I asked for the day off.”
“I thought you said you could work weekends?” Joe asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I can,” Calloway answered. “But this Saturday I have prior engagements.”
“Such as what?” he asked.
Calloway could tell his boss was annoyed with him for asking for time off. Since it was his only request he thought his boss was being unfair. This was the only instance where he needed a day off—it wouldn’t happen again. “I have my SAT in the afternoon and winter formal in the evening.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Calloway. You are scheduled to work.”
“I asked for the day off,” Calloway blurted. “I have to take this exam.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Joe said. “You shouldn’t ask for a day off when you’ve only worked here for two weeks—not a good impression. And there is no one else to work. The other employees have also asked for the day off.” Joe closed the register and walked back to the office. The anger was visible in his tense frame, and Calloway hoped he wouldn’t be fired because of this mishap. Calloway felt his heart fall when he watched him go. He had to make a decision—either his exam or his job.
“I’ll
cover your shift,” Marquan said as he walked over to him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s more money for me anyway.”
Calloway stared at him for a moment. “But Joe said everyone already asked for the evening off.”
Marquan shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” he said. “Your test is more important anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Calloway asked.
Marquan rolled his eyes. “Don’t make this more emotional than it needs to be,” he said. “I got your back—we all do.”
“Thanks.” Calloway sighed. “I appreciate it.”
“Now you owe me one.” Marquan smiled.
“I didn’t foresee this problem,” Calloway said.
“I’m just playing with you.”
Calloway smiled. “You know I got your back, too.”
“You better,” he said as he walked to the board and helped the customer waiting in line.
They worked for the next few hours until the shift was over. Marquan drove Calloway to his home down the street after they clocked out. There was a basketball in the backseat and an extra pair of shoes on the floorboard. The stereo was playing music but Calloway couldn’t distinguish the sound. He wouldn’t have recognized the song anyway—he only listened to classic country and mariachi music.
“You need to save up for a car,” Marquan said. “Riding your bike in the freezing cold is insane.”
“It’s better than the blistering heat,” Calloway answered.
“Well, a car is good for any weather.” Marquan laughed. “It’s a good investment.” Marquan stopped in front of the petite two story house and looked at the front door. “Nice place,” he said.
“Are you being sarcastic?” Calloway laughed.
“No,” he said. “I live in an apartment. It’s annoying being so close to your neighbors—they are loud.”
Calloway nodded. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime,” Marquan said.
Uncle Scott walked out of the house and approached the mailbox at the end of the driveway. “Hello,” he said as he walked to the car. He leaned toward the car and looked through the open window.
“Hey, Uncle Scott,” Calloway said. “This is my friend, Marquan.”
Marquan stepped out of the door and nodded to him. “Nice to meet you.”
“How do you two know each other?” Uncle Scott asked.
“We work together,” Calloway answered as he got out of the vehicle.
Uncle Scott nodded. “That’s what the smell is.”
Calloway rolled his eyes. “I get that a lot.”
“Come inside, Marquan, and join us for dinner,” Uncle Scott said.
“Really?” Marquan asked.
“Of course.” Uncle Scott smiled. “It’s a thank you for driving Calloway home.”
“Okay,” Marquan said. “Thanks.” He closed the door and locked it behind him.
When they walked in the house, Aunt Grace smiled when she saw them. “Calloway has another friend?” she said happily. She hugged Marquan tightly and he stood still for a moment, unsure what to do. He stared at Uncle Scott while he patted his wife on the back awkwardly. She pulled away. “This is wonderful. Please take a seat, honey,” she said to Marquan as she ushered him to the table. “And what is your name?”
“Marquan,” he answered.
“That’s great.” she smiled. “My name is Grace. I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m always hungry.” He smiled.
Aunt Grace laughed. “You and my son will get along just fine.”
Calloway sat next to Marquan at the table. Breccan stared at Marquan for a moment before he addressed him.
“Hi,” he said as he shook his hand. “I’m Calloway’s cousin, Breccan.”
“Cool,” he said. “I’m Marquan.”
“I call him MQ—it’s shorter.” Calloway laughed.
“But not as cool.” Marquan laughed.
Breccan stared at them for a moment then drank from his glass of water. Aunt Grace set the spaghetti on the table and they began to eat.
“Do you go to school with Calloway?” Aunt Grace asked.
Marquan wiped his mouth before he spoke. “No,” he said. “I go to Fresno University. Hopefully, Calloway will join me in the fall.”
“I sincerely hope so.” She smiled. “We want both our boys to attend.”
Breccan stared at his plate while he ate and avoided his mother’s gaze. Calloway knew Breccan was working on his school applications but he was very secretive about it—he wasn’t sure why.
“What are you studying, Marquan?” Uncle Scott asked.
“Biology and chemistry,” he answered.
Uncle Scott widened his eyes in surprise. “That’s impressive.”
“Not really.” Marquan laughed. “It’s just a flashy degree.”
Calloway laughed. “I’m sure you tell all the girls that.”
“Actually, I do.” He laughed. “It works every time.”
Even Uncle Scott laughed at the joke and choked on his water for a moment. After a few coughs he regained his composure and started to laugh again. Aunt Grace patted his back as she smiled at him. Breccan didn’t laugh at their joke and stared at Marquan. He ate his food in silence and kept to himself. He was so quiet that Calloway forgot he was there.
“Any news on the dance?” Aunt Grace asked. “Do you have a date, Calloway?”
Calloway drank from his glass of milk. “Yes,” he said. “I’m going with Easton’s sister.”
Aunt Grace clapped her hands together. “That’s wonderful news! I’ll rent two suits for you boys—you’re going to look sharp.”
Calloway had no intention of letting her pay for his dress clothes. “I’ll get my own,” Calloway said. “But thank you.”
“Don’t be difficult,” she said. “We’ll take care of it.”
Calloway looked at Uncle Scott. “Marquan said I can borrow one of his old suits. I don’t need to rent one.”
Marquan looked at Calloway but he didn’t respond to his comment. He never said anything of the sort.
“Oh okay,” Aunt Grace said. “Then we’ll just get something for Breccan.”
Breccan ate the bread on his plate and didn’t look at his mother.
“How much is the winter formal fee?” Uncle Scott asked.
“Seventy five dollars,” Calloway said.
Aunt Grace sighed when she heard the amount, and Calloway knew she was concerned about the money. “One of my friends gave me his ticket because he can’t go and there are no refunds,” Calloway said. “So I don’t need any money.”
“Well, that worked out,” Uncle Scott said happily. “We can afford Breccan’s ticket.”
Calloway felt guilty for lying to his family but he refused to let them pay for his expenses. It was the only way he could avoid wounding their pride and hurting their feelings. He appreciated everything they did for him but he was almost an adult—they shouldn’t have to support him any longer.
The plates were cleared off the table after they finished their dinner and Calloway walked Marquan to the front door.
“I’ll see you later,” Marquan said to Calloway. “And thanks for having me.”
“No problem,” Calloway said as he shut the door behind him. When he turned around Aunt Grace was cleaning the dishes in the sink, and Uncle Scott was reading a book on the couch. Breccan was nowhere in sight. Calloway walked up the stairs and entered the bedroom that he shared with his cousin. Breccan was already lying on the bed with his eyes closed, acting like he was asleep.
Calloway pulled his wallet out of his pocket and counted the bills. He owed Mr. Avey seventy five dollars for the formal in addition to the one hundred and fifty dollars for his applications, and he also needed money to pay for his suit. After Calloway calculated the total cost he realized he barely had enough funds to pay for everything. He couldn’t give Uncle Scott a single dollar and the revelation made him feel selfish—he was worthless.
Inheritance
�
�How are we going to get the decoder?” Breccan asked as he rested his feet on the wooden table.
“Put your feet down,” Easton said. “This isn’t a playground.”
“It’s abandoned,” he argued. “Who cares?”
“The Hara-Kirs might,” she whispered.
Breccan stared at her for a moment. His eyes were wide with fright at the mention of the creatures. “That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be,” she said.
Calloway ignored them and concentrated on his SAT preparation book. The exam was only a few days away and the anxiety was starting to take its toll. Even though he knew he would do well, he was still worried about his performance. If his score wasn’t perfect he wouldn’t be admitted to any college—his grades were that low.
Breccan hadn’t spoken to Calloway since yesterday and Calloway wasn’t sure what caused the tension. As far as he knew, he didn’t do anything wrong. His cousin had been acting unusual for the past few weeks. It was obvious that he disliked Mr. Avey for some reason, and it seemed like he hated Marquan last night. Calloway wasn’t sure what was bothering his cousin—he wasn’t being himself.
The fire crackled in the hearth and made the room feel warm and cozy. When Calloway looked at the heavy fog outside and the light drops of rain he was thankful he was inside—out of the cold. The only setback to this library—other than the creatures that tried to kill them—was the warmth and the light. Sometimes Calloway could feel his eyelids grow heavy and the exhaustion creep into his veins even if he wasn’t tired. He was both frightened and comfortable in this place.
The notebook sitting next to Easton’s hand on the desk was blank. She hadn’t written anything in over an hour, and Calloway knew she couldn’t translate any more of the Kirin Book. They needed the decoder but weren’t sure how they were going to get it. Easton sighed. “I don’t know how we are going to pull this off.”
“We’ll have to distract her,” Calloway said. “I can talk to her about formal—say I need to speak to her in private.”
Easton shook her head. “My sister is a cold-hearted genius. She’ll see right through you.”
“I never knew someone could be beautiful and smart—it’s surreal,” Breccan said.