Katana

by Cole Gibsen

  “What the—” But before I could finish my sentence, a woman wearing a dirt-smeared shirt and tattered sweatpants stepped in front of me, her canister of pepper spray held high.

  “Beat it!” the woman advised in a gravely, cigarette-damaged voice. “Or I’ll give ya another dose! Ya hear?”

  Devil-boy pressed a hand into his watering eyes but didn’t move. Down the street two guys exited a bar, the music from the band spilling out onto the street behind them. They were too far away to know what was going on, but lucky for me their presence was enough to send Devil-boy scrambling away. He cast me one last heated look before he knocked into a parked car and then into a light pole before finally disappearing into an alley.

  I stood. The movement must have startled the homeless woman because she raised her canister in my direction. “Don’t spray me!” I ducked my head and raised my hands. “I just wanted to thank you. He—he was going to shoot me.”

  “Humph,” she muttered, pocketing her pepper spray. She grabbed the discarded gun from the sidewalk and tossed it into a nearby trash can before turning to leave.

  “Wait!” I called after her.

  She ignored me and kept walking.

  “I just—how can I repay you?”

  She snorted and bent over to retrieve Devil-boy’s abandoned jacket from the road. “Don’t need to be paid for being a decent human.” She tucked the jacket under her arm and wandered down the road without looking back.

  Un-freaking-believable.

  My knees wobbled and I sank against the steps before the reality of what just happened could set in.

  “Right where I left you! Sorry I took so long.”

  A yelp escaped my mouth and I whirled in the direction of the voice. Whitley paused just outside the door as the barista locked it behind him. Whitley took one look at my pale, shaking figure and the smile fell from his face. “Hey.” He rushed to me and enveloped me in his arms. “What happened?”

  I shook my head and leaned my weight against him, knowing that there was nothing I could say, no explanation I could give, that wouldn’t make me sound crazy. Though the St. Louis streets weren’t exactly the safest, I couldn’t think of anyone other than me who’d been attacked with nunchaku. I just hoped Whitley wouldn’t glance over his shoulder at Carly’s cell phone still wedged into the door.

  “Shh.” He stroked the back of my hair with one hand and pressed me closer to him with the other. In the past, I’d put myself in a swooned-out state just by imagining the feel of Whitley’s arms. But now that they were actually around me, I couldn’t feel anything past the numbing cold of shock that filled my body. I was only vaguely aware of the spicy cinnamon cologne that tickled my nose.

  Whitley continued. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t taken so long … I couldn’t find my wallet. I searched the whole place from the counter to the bathroom only to find it wedged between the couch cushions. I should have known better than to leave you out here so long. Of course you were scared—alone on a dark street—especially after what happened to you last weekend.”

  I pulled away so I could look up at him, careful not to blink and risk spilling the tears building in the corner of my eyes. “It wasn’t you. I had a really great time … but I think I’ve had too much excitement for one night.” I offered him a weak smile. “I hope I didn’t ruin our date.”

  He smiled. “Impossible.”

  A blush warmed my cheeks. “Thanks.”

  Whitley wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gently guided me down the sidewalk toward his car. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  The drive back to my house was uncomfortably silent.

  Whitley pulled into my driveway and drummed his thumbs nervously on the steering wheel. “So … ”

  What a night. I was so relieved to be home, but at the same time, there was a part of me that hated ending the date I’d been waiting three months for. Hoping to gain an extra minute or two, I took longer slipping out of my seatbelt than was necessary.

  “Can I call you?” he asked.

  I stopped fidgeting and turned to face him. “I’d like that.”

  A smile lit his face. “Great.” He reached around to the backseat and pulled up a backpack, shuffling through it before finally pulling out a legal pad with a pen clipped to it. “Your phone number?”

  I gave it to him, and while he finished scribbling it down, I opened the door and stepped out. Sure, I was a little disappointed at our casual goodbye, but I didn’t want to seem too eager. Then I heard his car door slam behind me.

  “Wait!” he called. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  I couldn’t help but smile into the dark. My door was only fifteen feet away. I stayed where I was until I felt his hand take mine and lead me the short distance to the concrete porch.

  “Well, I guess this is good night,” Whitley said.

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry and my tongue thick. The tension scratched along my skin like an itchy sweater. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to kiss him—my body warmed to the thought—it was just the awkwardness that led up to it. Could he feel how much my hand was sweating in his? Maybe he was disgusted but too polite to let go. Should I slip my hand from his so I could wipe it on my skirt? Or would that hurt his feelings?

  Whitley leaned forward. I closed my eyes and stopped thinking. A few agonizing seconds passed before I felt my hand lifted. Confused, I opened my eyes to find Whitley’s sparkling blue irises locked onto my own as he laid a gentle kiss across my knuckles.

  “I had a great time,” he whispered. He dropped my hand, which I quickly clasped behind my back before he noticed the damage that remained from punching Devil-boy.

  “Me too.”

  He smiled, flashing those incredible dimples. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Heat burned in my cheeks and I forgot how to talk. I could only raise my hand in farewell as he made his way back to his car and pulled out of my drive.

  “Bah!” I cried when I was sure he could no longer see me in his rearview mirror. “I’m such an idiot.” Leaning my forehead against the door, I continued to mutter as I fumbled with my keys. At the very least I could have said “bye” or some other attempt at verbal communication. Anything but standing paralyzed like the dummy I was.

  Sighing, I turned the key in my deadbolt when a heavy feeling wrapped around me like a lead jacket. I leaned back and locked my knees to keep from falling down.

  I was being watched.

  I spun on the steps, leaning my back against the door so I could scan the neighborhood. The only noises came from buzzing cicadas and a distant barking dog. Most of the neighborhood had retired for the night, leaving the dim streetlights as the sole source of light.

  That’s when I saw the silver Trans Am parked in front of Mr. and Mrs. McKinnley’s house across the street. The McKinnleys, a retired couple, owned an older Lincoln Town Car. How long had the Trans Am been parked there? I couldn’t remember seeing it before I left on my date, but then again, I hadn’t been looking.

  I pushed off the door and marched across the small yard toward the mysterious car. Maybe I should have called Kim, or at least the police, but I was too angry and tired to care anymore. If the tattooed stranger followed me here to start another fight, I’d save him the trouble of having to come after me.

  I was halfway into the street when the car engine roared to life. The sound, like the growl of a giant beast, startled me but didn’t stop me. I wanted this to end. The tires crunched into the gravel as they turned out toward the road.

  “Oh no you don’t!” I shouted at the black-tinted window. “Don’t you go anywhere!” I jumped forward, but only managed to beat my fist against the window once before the sports car peeled out, narrowly missing my toes in its retreat. “Coward!” I shouted as it screeched around a corner and out of sight. I screamed in frustration, picked up a fistful of gravel, and threw it into the empty street.

  Dogs barked and several of the neighboring houses flicked on their bedr
oom lights. Cursing softly, I turned and ran as fast as my heels would allow me, praying that they wouldn’t see me before I was either inside or crumbled on the ground with a twisted ankle.

  So much for a nice normal night out.

  Once inside, I sucked on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. No amount of wishful thinking was going to change anything. Ignoring it would not help. As much as I hated to admit it, Kim was right.

  My life was never going to be the same again.

  23

  My ringing phone ripped me from the depths of dreamless sleep. The clock read seven in the morning. Groaning, I pulled my pillow over my face to muffle the noise. It was the first day since the start of summer vacation that I wasn’t scheduled to work. I’d planned on staying in bed until noon. It wasn’t enough that Kim wanted his dead girlfriend back, a reincarnated samurai spirit wanted my body, and a tattooed freak wanted God-knows-what. Now someone wanted to take away the only thing I had left: sleep. “What?!” I shouted into the receiver.

  “Ri-Ri!” Quentin exhaled loudly. “Oh, thank God. You had me so worried. What was going on with you yesterday?” He was speaking so fast his sentences fell on top of each other. “You got the whole salon in a tizzy over your little exchange. I thought this Kim guy had a thing for you. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? Carly said you and some tattooed freak threatened her last night. It’s not that I blame you, I just thought you were on a date with Whitley. What are you keeping from me? How could you—”

  “Q!” I interrupted. “Breathe!” I reluctantly pulled myself up against my headboard, propping two pillows behind my back. He was really worked up, so I knew I might as well get comfortable.

  I heard him suck in air. “You’re right.” He took another deep breath. “Okay. That’s much better.”

  “Good. Now start over.”

  There was a pause. “What the hell is going on?”

  I flinched back from the anger coming through the phone. I’d never heard Quentin so mad before. “Q, I’m so sorry. I—”

  He cut me off. “I’ve been worried sick, you know.”

  My apology didn’t work, so I was going to give reason a try. “I tried to tell you the other day in the sink room, but Jeannine interrupted us, and the same thing happened yesterday with Kim. Not to mention,” I sighed, “a part of me is worried that if I do tell you … you might not understand.”

  The anger left his voice. “It’s me, Ri-Ri. What on earth could you possibly tell me that I wouldn’t understand?”

  I opened my mouth to answer but couldn’t form the words. This was all wrong. I couldn’t divulge my deepest secrets while a cluster of stuffed animals stared at me from across the room. I wanted to look him in the eyes and read the thoughts that played behind them. I needed him with me, holding my hand—where he should have been all along. “I can’t do this over the phone.”

  There was a sudden intake of breath. “How big is this, Ri-Ri?”

  “Big,” I answered. “And even though I wanted to, I just don’t know how to handle it alone.”

  “I’ll be over first thing after work.”

  It was tempting. I needed a friend so badly right now, but I remembered my promise to Kim to train at the dojo. “Q, I can’t tonight. And I’m thinking about calling in sick to work tomorrow.” Getting my life back on track wasn’t going as well as I wanted, and I could use an extra day off to regroup. “Ask Jeannine if you can take an early lunch tomorrow and meet me at the sub shop. I’ll tell you everything then.”

  His silence was heavy.

  “Please, Q?”

  He sighed. “Eleven okay?”

  I smiled. “That’s perfect. And I promise, I’ll tell you everything.” When I hung up, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. No more secrets. I needed Quentin. I had learned the hard way that trying to get through this on my own was too much to handle.

  But then I had another thought. What if I told him all about awakening and transcending and he didn’t understand? Would he think I was crazy? Was our friendship worth risking by telling him my secret? And if I didn’t tell him, would my lies become a wedge between us?

  I chewed on my thumbnail as I padded out of my bedroom and into the kitchen to eat a bowl of cereal. A massive bouquet of yellow roses sat in a vase on the counter next to my much smaller bouquet from Whitley. Curious, I lifted the card open.

  Debbie,

  You light up my life.

  —Love,

  Jason

  I closed the card and pushed her monster bouquet aside, not caring that it put them in direct sunlight so they were sure to wilt, and opened the cabinet they had blocked. It wasn’t that I minded Debbie having a relationship with a guy. She deserved someone to care about her after all these years. But why Dr. Wendell? Why was she suddenly so interested in the one guy that gave my gut the same reaction as dissection day in biology?

  I pushed all thoughts of Dr. Wendell aside. I had bigger things to worry about at the moment. After snagging a bowl and filling it with cereal and milk, I walked into the living room to enjoy my toasted flakes and watch TV. I was in mid-squat over the sofa when I caught a silver gleam outside the front window.

  The Trans Am was back, parked precisely in the same place it had been last night.

  Unbelievable! I ignored my pulse thundering in my ears as I set my breakfast down and made my way outside, just like I ignored the morning dew as it soaked through my socks. I couldn’t believe the nerve of the guy—coming back so soon after I called him out the night before. I stood right in front of the driver’s black window, fist poised, before the first inkling of doubt seeped into my mind. I brushed it aside. Would this guy really try something in broad daylight with so many of my neighbors shuffling through their morning rituals? Then again, how long did it take to shoot someone? He could be halfway down the road before someone noticed me bleeding to death on the asphalt.

  “Genius plan, Rileigh,” I mumbled as I wiped my now-slick palms on my sweats. There was no point in running back inside my house. If he was in the car he’d have already seen me. I rapped my knuckles against the tinted glass. Nothing happened. I knocked again. I didn’t hear or see anything from inside the car. Maybe no one was in it. I cupped my hands around my eyes and leaned against the glass, only to jump back, heart pounding, as the electric window rolled down.

  “You!” I pressed my hands against my chest in an effort to keep my heart from jumping through. “You’re not the tattooed man!”

  “Who?” Kim frowned as he squinted in the morning sun that spilled into his car. He looked terrible. Heavy bags pulled at the bottom of his eyes, and his hair was flat in spots where he had laid it against the car’s headrest.

  “Are you spying on me?” I demanded.

  He sighed before opening the car door and stepping out onto the road.

  Goodie. He was back to not answering my questions. I squeezed my hands into tight fists at my side, afraid to open my mouth and release the angry scream that hung in my throat.

  Without making eye contact, he laced his fingers together and rested them against the back of his head. His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t know why you are so mad. I told you I was going to watch over you.”

  “But I agreed to train with you,” I growled. “I thought that was the deal.”

  He dropped his hands and looked at me. “You didn’t train last night.”

  I cried out in frustration. “Are you kidding me? This is how it’s going to be?”

  He nodded to my driveway, where my busted-up Fiesta waited for its appointment at the auto body shop. “What happened to your car?”

  “I hit a deer.”

  Kim snorted and turned back to me. “You’re oblivious to the danger you’re in, aren’t you?”

  Maybe I had been, but after spending a night dodging nunchaku and having a gun pointed at me I was starting to get the picture. “I understand that there are people after me, Kim, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to give up my privacy. Besides, th
is road gets a lot of traffic and my neighbors are nosey. Somebody would have to be pretty stupid to start something with me at my house.”

  “Is that so?” he asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that looked like the one I’d found on my doorstep. “I didn’t want to show you this. You are under so much stress already, but you need to understand. I found this on your porch.” He handed it to me. Only one word was written on it, but I could tell the handwriting was the same: Soon.

  “Soon? What’s soon?”

  Kim held his arms wide. “I don’t know. But I suspect nothing good.”

  This was crazy. I dropped the note and refused to watch it fall to the ground. I didn’t want to see it ever again. “When did you find it?”

  “Early this morning. After you chased me away, I came back an hour later and found it.”

  I hugged myself, suddenly cold despite the warm summer morning. What did it mean? Was this a note from the tattooed guy warning me that he was coming back? Or was it something else entirely? “So tell me, then, why did you leave in the first place? Why didn’t you just let me know what was going on?”

  He shrugged and stared up into the sky. “You looked mad.”

  “Let me get this straight. You peeled out of here like a bat out of hell because I looked mad?” I laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be some samurai badass or something?”

  His eyes lowered in shame. “Not just mad. Really mad,” he emphasized.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “So?”

  “Look, I know you don’t trust me. And that’s partly because of the way I’ve handled our last couple of encounters.”

  “You can scratch the partly,” I grumbled.

  He ignored me. “So here you come, storming at me, and I just … panicked. I didn’t want you to think I was spying on your date. That wasn’t my intent at all. I just wanted to keep an eye on your house. To make sure no one was waiting for you when you got back.”

  “Really?” High-pitched laughter bubbled from my throat. “That’s so funny.” I laughed some more, causing Kim’s eyes to flash with unease. “You were here protecting my house. Meanwhile, I’m at the coffee shop getting attacked by a guy with nunchaku. Honest-to-God nunchaku!” I kept laughing until I was out of breath and tears sprung from my eyes. “I mean, who does that?”