by B.M. Green
Chapter 22
“Happy Birthday, Rip! Happy Birthday, Rebekah! The big one seven.” Rip and Rebekah smiled as Tom and Zeke greeted them. “Have you seen Holidee today?”
“No. She wasn’t in chemistry or Spanish.”
“I wonder where she is.”
“Maybe she’s sick.”
“We should go visit her, then.”
“Yeah. So, when did you say your party was?”
“It’s gonna be at five.”
“Awesome. We’ll be there.”
“Great.”
“Let’s go see Holidee.” The four of them headed to Holidee’s house. Holidee wasn’t sick, however. She was sad. February 13. Her parents’ anniversary. The weekend they left. The day before they died. Holidee didn’t want to think about them being dead for almost a year now. It was too painful. The doorbell rang and Crix answered it.
“Hey, you guys. What are you doing here?”
“We thought maybe Holidee was sick, so we wanted to see her.”
“Oh.” Crix looked behind him and then back at the four eager faces. “She’s, well, she’s not sick. She’s, uh, today’s not a good day for her.” They all looked puzzled.
“Well, if she’s not sick, then maybe she’d want to come to our birthday party later this evening.”
“Today’s your birthday?”
“Yeah. Seventeen today.”
“Wow.” Crix ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Today was also Holidee’s parents’ anniversary. They were killed this weekend.” They all looked down.
“Oh.”
“I don’t think she’s gonna make your party. Sorry.”
“No. We understand. Tell her we stopped by.”
“Okay.” They walked away, silently. At five o’ clock, Rip and Rebekah’s party started. Their dad wasn’t there. He was working until ten. There were about twenty people there. They all stayed until about nine-thirty. Then some of them started to leave. Tom was among the first to leave. He didn’t like parties, even though he liked Rip and Rebekah. The sky was getting dark, and the lights on the streets were turning on as he walked down the street. Hmm…do I really have a thing for her? The way her eyes look at me every time I say something smart-alecky about Zeke. Or her laugh. Her smile could turn anybody’s head. But does she see me the same way? Would she like someone who comes from a broken family? She’s different than most girls. She’s special. She’s one-
Something hit Tom in the back of the head. He shook his head and continued walking. Then something pushed him and he fell to the ground, his knife skidding across the pavement. Tom looked up from the ground and saw a bulky man leaning over to pick up his knife. He took it out of its sheaf and spun it on his finger. The man looked rough, with an unshaven beard and uncombed jet-black hair. He spit on the ground and walked toward Tom. Tom sat up and scurried up against a wall, trying to become invisible, but failing horribly. The man picked Tom up by the hair and held him against his body as he pressed Tom’s knife to his neck. Tom felt the cold steel against his throat, and terror flooded into Tom’s eyes. It’s him! Tom could hardly breathe.
“I should have killed you a long time ago.” His putrid breath crept into Tom’s nostrils as his deep voice filled his ears with ringing. “You were nothing but trouble from the start.” He threw Tom against a brick building. Tom crashed into it and fell to the ground. Pain surged through his whole body as blood seeped from his nose and lip. Tom attempted to get up, but the man pushed him back to the ground with his boot. “You were the reason I got locked up! You and that whore you call Mother!” Tom looked up at him, menacingly.
“She had nothing to do with that!”
“No? Well, maybe not, but she always loved you more! I was her husband, goddamit! What about the love and respect I deserved?! Huh?!”
“You didn’t deserve any,” Tom mumbled. Tom’s father picked Tom up by the collar of his shirt.
“What did you say to me, boy?!” Tom gritted his teeth and glared into his father’s dark eyes.
“I said, you didn’t deserve any love and respect!” James, Tom’s dad, struck Tom across the face and threw him against the building again. Tom was bleeding, and his body was aching, but his heart was filled with rage. He rolled over onto his hands and knees and spit out a mouthful of blood. He looked up at his father with hatred in his eyes. His teeth were red with blood and he was breathing heavily. James circled around him. Tom never took his eyes off of his father.
“No. You loved that uncle of yours better.” He smiled. “But I took care of him, now, didn’t I?”
“You bastard.”
“Watch your language, boy!” He walked closer to Tom and picked him up by his hair. He whispered in his ear. “You know, I’m gonna enjoy killing you.” James twirled Tom’s knife in one hand. “Now tell me, what are you more afraid of: dying or knowing that after you’ve gone your beloved friend, Zeke, will be next?” Tom watched as the knife got closer to Tom’s face. James pulled back Tom’s head and pressed the cold steel to his throat. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna hurt you a lot more than it’ll hurt me!” Then he pressed a little harder against Tom’s throat and a little blood trickled down his neck.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Tom looked over and saw Crix standing there.
“Who the hell are you?”
“A friend.” Crix walked closer to James and punched him square on the nose, breaking it. Crix heard a crack, crack and felt pain run through his hand. James stumbled back and let go of Tom, who scrambled out of the way. Crix shook his hand and hit James again, this time sending him to the ground. He then kicked him in the ribs as hard as he could. He knelt down to pick him up, but James took Tom’s knife and slashed Crix across the arm. Crix howled in pain as blood spilled on the pavement. Crix kicked the knife out of his hand and it skidded across the pavement to Tom’s feet. Tom picked it up and continued to watch the two men fighting. Crix was bleeding down his arm, but didn’t seem to notice. He blocked most of James’ throws, but was pushed against a wall by a hard blow. Crix clutched his stomach, but was quick to strike back. He struck James hard in the chest. James dropped to the ground in pain.
“Now get out of here before I call the cops!” James looked up at Crix with hatred in his eyes. He spit out blood.
“I’ll kill you for free.” Then he looked at Tom. “I’ll be back! You can count on it!” Then he got up and started walking away. “And next time you won’t have anyone around to save you.” He left after that. Crix slid down to the ground and sat against the wall, exhausted. He looked over at Tom. His shirt had blood on it, and his arms, legs, and face were scratched and bruised. He was lying on the ground, breathing slowly. He looked pitifully up at Crix and smiled weakly.
“Thanks.” Crix crawled over to him, clutching his arm.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to his…his…” Tom coughed and spit out some blood. “…his beatings.” Crix looked sadly at Tom.
“Let me have a look at ya.” He ripped Tom’s shirt open. Crix ripped open his own shirt and cleaned some of Tom’s cuts. Underneath the blood were several black and blue spots. Green started to appear around them. “Some of your ribs are bruised. C’mon.” Crix stood up and helped Tom up. “We gotta get you to a hospital.” Crix helped Tom over to a bench by a bus stop. He went to the nearest payphone and dialed 911. Then he walked back over to Tom, who was trying to get up. “No, you’re not strong enough. They’ll be here any minute.”
“I just have a few bruises and cuts. Nothing I haven’t had before.”
“You need a hospital.” Crix ripped his shirt again and pressed it to Tom’s neck. “Hold that there.” Tom obeyed.
“I still have all my teeth.” Tom looked at Crix, who smiled, and smiled back at him. Crix leaned his head back against the bench and closed his eyes. Sirens could be heard off in the distance.
Crix watched as they strapped Tom to a board and hauled hi
m into the ambulance.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” Crix shook his head.
“I hate hospitals.” Tom smiled. His teeth were still red. “I called your mom. She’s on her way. She’ll most likely contact Zeke, too.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” Crix winked at Tom. “I have Holidee.” Tom smirked and waved good-bye as the paramedics shut the doors.
Crix stumbled onto the couch in his house. He didn’t move. It hurt too much. The fight was replaying in his head as he set an ice pack on his knuckles. Mer was still at work, and Holidee had gone for a walk about an hour ago. The doorbell rang. Crix just lay on the couch, hoping they’d think no one was home. No such luck. The doorbell kept ringing consistently. Crix grumbled as he rolled off of the couch and fell on the hard floor. He groaned and then got up. He limped to the door and opened it. There Rodger was standing, his eyes filled with fury. Before Crix could say anything, though, Rodger tackled him into the house.
“You!” Rodger was on top of Crix, holding his shirt in his fists. “You turned my own kids against me!” Rodger lifted his fist to punch Crix, but stopped and lowered it when he realized Crix wasn’t fighting back. Crix looked like he was in pain, but Rodger hadn’t hit him. “Why aren’t you fighting back?” Crix didn’t answer. Rodger set his hand on Crix’ stomach for support to stand up, but quickly removed it when Crix yelled in pain. Rodger looked at him and then at his stomach. Then he tore open Crix’ shirt in one swift movement and saw a blue and black bruise about the size of his head on Crix’ side. “My God, Crix. What happened?”
“Nothing,” Crix gasped. He tried to get up, but Rodger didn’t let him.
“Nothing? It looks like you got hit by a freakin’ semi!”
“I’m fine.”
“Fine my ass.” Rodger got off of Crix and helped him up. “Where’s your wife?”
“Working.”
“I take it she doesn’t know yet?”
“No.” Crix limped over to the couch and sat down.
“Did I do that?” Rodger was staring at Crix’ leg.
“Yeah.” Crix lay down and took a deep breath. Rodger was still staring at his leg.
“Crix, I’m sorry about everything I did back then. I know I can never make it up to you. I know I can’t change the past, but if I could, I would try. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Crix just wanted Rodger to stop talking and leave. He wanted to rest. “I’ll be fine once Holidee gets home.”
“Then I’ll stay until she gets home.” Crix groaned.
“Rodger, you can leave. I’ll be fine. Just…” Crix took a deep breath. “…leave.” Rodger looked at Crix and shook his head.
“No.” Crix moaned and closed his eyes.
“Fine. Just be quiet, then, okay?”
“Okay.” Crix fell asleep shortly after that and didn’t wake up until he heard Holidee’s voice.
“Rodger? What are you-” Holidee saw Crix sleeping on the couch. His shirt was ripped open and a big bruise was visible on his side. She also noticed a considerable amount of dried blood on him. “Oh My God! Crix!” She ran over to the couch. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “What happened?” He smirked.
“Just…heal me.” She nodded and placed her hands on his side. He flinched a little, but then relaxed. She closed her eyes and her hands started to glow blue, and it transferred to Crix’ bruise. Rodger sat up and watched in amazement. Holidee took her hands away. The bruise was gone and Crix was breathing normally again. Then Holidee healed the rest of Crix’ cuts and bruises. She had just finished the knife wound on his arm when he started to pull the bag of ice off of his hand. “I broke my knuckles.” Holidee looked at the bloody entanglement that was his hand.
“But, Crix, I’ve never healed-”
“I know. Just try.” Holidee looked at the broken bones in Crix’ hand and then placed her own hands on his. She had to concentrate extra hard to heal his bones. Crix grimaced and gripped the side of the couch so hard his knuckles on his other hand were turning white. Holidee opened her eyes.
“Did I do it?” Crix looked at his hand and moved each finger slowly. Then he smiled.
“Thanks, Ocean Eyes.” She smiled and hugged him. Rodger had been watching the whole time, his mouth agape.
“I had no idea…” His voice trailed off. Crix and Holidee both looked over at him. “Oceains can do that?”
“Only certain ones. Your son can, though, with his mind.” Holidee looked at Crix. “Your daughter can grow plants in her hands and nourish animals.”
“Wow. I just thought…” Crix nodded. He got up and limped over to Rodger. Holidee watched him limp.
“Go home and wish your kids a happy birthday, Rodger. They’re almost grown up. You have to cherish the time you have with them now.” Rodger nodded and left. Then Crix limped away. “I’m gonna go take a shower before Mer gets home. I don’t want her to see me like this.”
“What’s wrong with your leg?” Crix stopped. His back was to Holidee.
“Just an old injury that’s acting up. It’ll be fine.” Holidee started to protest but Crix had already reached the bathroom and shut the door. Holidee looked at her hands. Then she sat on the couch, deep in thought. Today could have been worse, but what happened to Crix? Then the phone rang and Holidee was jerked out of her thinking. She picked up the phone, expecting it to be Mer telling her she was running late.
“Holidee?” It was Zeke.
“Zeke? Why’re you calling me so-”
“I thought you should know Tom’s in the hospital.” Holidee dropped the receiver. What is going on? Then she grabbed her keys and went to leave, but Crix stopped her.
“Where’re you going?”
“Tom’s in the hospital.” She turned the doorknob.
“Yeah, I know. I sent him there.” Holidee turned around and faced Crix.
“What?”
“I called the ambulance for him and watched him go off. He was beat up pretty badly.”
“What happened?” Crix shook his head. “Later.” Crix grabbed his keys and walked toward the door, where Holidee was standing.
“No. Now, Crix. What happened to Tom and you today?” Crix looked into Holidee’s eyes and knew she wouldn’t wait.
“Tom’s dad is here.”
“Here?”
“He found Tom and would’ve killed him if I hadn’t intervened. All I did was prevent him from killing Tom. Now let’s go see Tom.” Holidee followed Crix out the door and to the car. They drove to the hospital and went up to the fourth floor. They walked into the room Tom was in. Tom’s mom was on his left and Zeke was sitting by his right side. Zeke’s dad was in there, along with Zeke’s mom, who was comforting Tom’s mom, Karen. Tom was lying in the white hospital bed with wires and bandages on him. Holidee walked over to Zeke and grabbed Tom’s hand. Tom opened his eyes and smiled.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” He sat up a little and Holidee saw that his whole chest and stomach was wrapped with gauze. Then Tom looked over at the door and saw Crix standing there. Tom smiled again.
“Well, look how nicely you clean up.” Crix gave Tom a half smile and Tom winked at him.
“How are ya, Tom?”
“I could be better.” Crix smiled, but then was taken aback when Karen thrust herself into his arms. He looked down at her. She was on the verge of tears.
“Thank you so much. Tom told us what you did. I can’t tell you how much…” She looked into his eyes. “You saved my son’s life. How can I ever repay you?” Crix looked down into her dark eyes. Then he shrugged his shoulders.
“Bake me cookies.” Karen looked up at Crix and smiled. Tom, Mac, and Zeke laughed.
“What I want to know is how he got out.”
“Who knows.”
“I just hope I never see him again.”
“You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Now you don’t think my nightmares are crazy, do ya?” Zeke sho
ok his head.
“No. I’m sorry I ever did.” He put his hand on top of Holidee’s, which was holding Tom’s. Then he smiled. Karen walked back over to her son’s side. Crix limped over and stood next to Mac. Tom watched him limp and frowned. He wanted to ask why Holidee hadn’t healed his limp, but thought better of it since most of the people in the room didn’t know about Oceains. Mac leaned over and whispered in Crix’ ear.
“Look like the three musketeers, don’ they?” Crix smiled and agreed. They did look like the three musketeers. Crix just hoped that they didn’t have the same motto: all for one and one for all.