Song of the Fireflies

by J. A. Redmerski

  “I only got one C,” Bray said, coming up to me at school in the hallway, her eyes lit with excitement. She shoved her report card into my hand. “Math, of course. But it’s better than the D I had last nine weeks.”

  “That’s awesome,” I said. “I can help you study. Told you I’d help.”

  She snatched the report card away from me and smirked. “I can do it myself,” she said and kissed me on the cheek. “Besides, if my parents found out you helped me, they’ll think I can’t do it on my own.” She wore a bright yellow T-shirt with an anime character with pink hair imprinted on the front, hip-hugger jeans, and a pair of black flip-flops. Her long, dark hair was pulled behind her into a ponytail.

  “Are you still coming over tonight?” she asked me.

  I dialed in the last number of my locker combination, pulled the door open, and shoved my books inside.

  “Definitely,” I said, smiling. “I’m bringing the marshmallows.”

  “And the beer,” Bray whispered and pressed her hip against mine.

  My eyes grew wide as I looked around and over the top of her head to see if anyone was listening.

  “Not so loud,” I said in a harsh, low voice. “Besides, I said I’d try to get a few beers. My mom hasn’t touched the ones my Aunt Janice left over at our house last month, but it makes me nervous that she might notice them missing.” I retrieved my book for my next class and shut my locker door.

  “I know, I know,” Bray whispered. “But just get two then. Make Mitchell and Lissa find their own. Mitchell’s dad always has beer.”

  “I dunno, Bray, if my mom finds out, she’ll kill me.”

  She laid her head on my shoulder. “Just try. If you can’t, then it’s OK. We always have marshmallows.” Then she grinned with a crafty glint in her eye. “But if we play Spin the Bottle, you might have to kiss Lissa, and I’m sure you don’t want to be sober for that.”

  I inwardly cringed. “Spin the Bottle is lame,” I said. “Who does that anymore?”

  “Who cares? It’s still going to be fun.”

  I met up with Bray after school, and we walked home together down the dirt road toward Mr. Parson’s land, like we did every day. Bray was excited about her good grades. Last year she had gotten mostly Cs and Ds, and she was depressed for a long time about how disappointed her parents were. Bray was a smart girl, intelligent even, but when it came to school she couldn’t focus. She got bored easily, and it was hard for her to get along with most of her teachers, so she got into trouble a lot.

  “They’re going to be so proud,” she said later, as we made it to the end of the driveway at her house. She let go of my hand and said, “Want to come in with me this time?”

  I shook my head. “Uhh, nah, your dad doesn’t like me much. I’ll just see you in a couple hours for the marshmallow roast.”

  She grabbed my hand again and started pulling me along. “My dad always looks like he doesn’t like people,” she said.

  I let her pull me, but I really didn’t want to go inside. I never liked to, because her parents always eyed me with suspicious looks, as though I was something evil that needed to be exorcised. I crawled inside her bedroom window a lot over the years, after her parents had gone to sleep, and I never got caught, but I was always pretty terrified.

  “Bray, really, let me just catch up with you later.”

  We made it to her front porch. A little swarm of bugs buzzed around the porch light just above the door. An old wooden swing hung from the porch roof on one side; two lawn chairs were pushed against the side of the house on the other side, with a table situated between them. Cigarette smoke lingered faintly in the air, as though someone had sat out here and smoked in the past hour.

  The screen door opened with a creaking sound as she pulled it back. She was smiling so brightly. I knew she wanted me to be there when she showed her parents her grades. And I wanted to be there for her.

  We entered the living room together, the smell of pot roast and potatoes and garlic filled the air and made my stomach rumble. It was always a little too much on the warm side in Bray’s house. I didn’t know if her parents just didn’t like to turn on the air conditioner or if it was because her mom cooked a lot and it kept the house heated. Every time I went there it seemed like I smelled freshly cooked food of some kind.

  Bray dropped her backpack on the floor and looked back at me, her smile getting bigger as she walked around the back of the couch to where her parents were watching TV. I stayed where I was, at the entrance to the living room, where it felt safer.

  “Mom, Dad, you’re not going to believe this,” Bray said and started unfolding her report card.

  “That you didn’t clean your room last night when I told you to?” Bray’s mom snapped as she looked away from the TV.

  Bray’s smile almost faded, but she was too excited to show them her grades, so she didn’t let the comment about her room not being clean get to her. “I promise I’ll clean it right after I show you this.” She unfolded the report card the rest of the way and held it out to her dad first.

  “Why don’t you clean your room now, Brayelle?” he said sternly, not even looking at the paper in her hand. “It’s always about later with you. You’ll do it later. You’ll get to it later. Do what your mother said and clean your room now. Elias can go home. You won’t be roasting any marshmallows tonight. You’re grounded.”

  Her face fell. I saw it. But she gathered herself quickly and tried once more to get them to look.

  “Daddy please just look at my grades.” She pushed the paper further into his view. “I only got one C. The rest are Bs, and I have an A in Art.”

  Her dad snatched the report card from her fingers, looked down into it, then back up at her.

  “Better than the last one,” he said still with the same uncaring emotion as I always expected of him. “But bringing up your grades doesn’t excuse you from having to do your chores, or keep your room clean. Rian has good grades, does her chores every day, and her room is spotless. If she can juggle them all, why can’t you?” He dropped the report card on the table and turned back to the television.

  “Honey, please go clean your room,” her mom said, probably with a bit of guilt for the way her dad was treating her. But the woman never stood up for Bray, and I just never understood it.

  “But—”

  “Now!” Her dad shot up from the chair, and the remote control hit the hardwood floor.

  Bray stepped backward away from him. Her parents were never abusive to her, but from what I had seen over the years, the way they talked to her at times was almost as bad.

  Her mom looked at me and said in a calm manner, “Elias, it’s best if you head home.”

  Bray’s blue eyes were brimmed with tears. She looked at me once, grabbed her report card off the table and tore it to shreds in front of them. She screamed something inaudible, clenching her fists down at her sides and threw the ripped pieces of what was once something very dear to her at her dad and then ran off to her room. The door slammed shut so hard behind her that it rattled the pictures hanging on the walls in the living room.

  Bray’s older sister, Rian, walked through the front door just as I was going to leave.

  “Hi, Elias,” she said, but I pushed my way past her without a word. “Is Brayelle home?” she called out to me.

  I turned to face her as I stood at the door with my hand on the knob. “Yeah,” I said icily. “But some home this is.”

  I slammed their door almost as hard as Bray had and ran down the dirt driveway and away from that house.

  I looked down at Bray curled up next to me in the Jeep, and I combed my fingers through her soft hair, choking back the memory. I guess Bray was right. They didn’t want to understand her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Elias

  Caleb raised his back from the seat and pointed up ahead. “Pull in there,” he said. “I need to piss.”

  Tate took a left at the stop sign and pulled into the parking lot
of an old run-down liquor store on the corner. Various beer and whiskey advertisements completely covered the windows. An ice cooler sat beside the front door with a faded polar bear plastered on the side. There was only one car parked outside, on the edge of the building underneath a metal carport. It was probably the owner’s car.

  “Hurry up!” Tate shouted out the Jeep window as Caleb walked quickly inside. I heard the faint ringing of a bell when he swung open the door.

  The three of us sat in silence for a moment. Bray had almost fallen asleep before we stopped.

  “Are you two hungry?” Tate asked.

  “No, man, I’m good,” I said and then looked down at Bray as she sat against me with her head on my shoulder.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said.

  “You sure? I can run in and get you a stick of jerky or something.” Tate offered. He was turned around in the driver’s seat and facing us, with his right hand wedged behind the headrest of the passenger’s seat.

  “No thanks,” Bray said.

  Tate nodded and turned back around. He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel and turned the song up on the radio. Awolnation’s “Sail” streamed from the speakers. We were all getting into it, bobbing our heads and singing along to the words.

  “I might as well take a piss, too,” Tate said after a minute.

  He opened the door and started to take the key out of the ignition, but I stopped him. “Leave ’em,” I said. “This is a great song.”

  “All right.” He shut the door and jogged toward the front of the liquor store.

  I leaned between the two front seats and reached out for the volume button, turning it up.

  Bray and I became lost in the music. I leaned my head back against the seat and shut my eyes. She laid her head on my lap and shut her eyes. We let the music roll through us like medicine, and for a moment it was all we cared about. For that brief moment, we took advantage of shutting off the outside world.

  A gunshot rang out, and our eyes popped open. Bray rose upright from my lap. “What was that?”

  “Sounded like a shot.”

  I looked out the window beside me to see Caleb and Tate running toward us, Caleb with a gun in his right hand.

  “Oh shit!” I cried.

  We both froze and looked at each other as if to ask, What just happened? But neither of us could move.

  Tate swung his door open and jumped inside. “Get the fuck in!” he yelled at Caleb.

  A second later, Caleb was in the passenger’s seat, and we were speeding away from the liquor store with dirt kicking up behind the Jeep’s tires.

  “What the fuck?” Tate roared at Caleb, white-knuckling the steering wheel as we got back onto the desolate highway.

  “I didn’t mean to shoot him!” Caleb leaned over and rammed his own head into the dashboard several times.

  “What happened? Oh my God, what the fucked happened?” Bray said frantically. She rose up behind him, trying to look over his shoulder.

  “You shot someone?” I grabbed Bray by her waist and pulled her away from Caleb and next to me.

  “Back off!” Caleb screamed at us.

  He looked at Tate, his eyes full of fear and anger and regret. “I-I fucking swear it, Tate. I-I didn’t mean to hit him. I was only trying to scare him.”

  “You robbed the store?” Bray asked. “I can’t believe he robbed the fucking store!” She was looking at me again.

  I put my hand over her mouth gently. “Bray, please, just be quiet,” I whispered.

  She was shaking. I was shaking.

  Tate slammed his fists down on the steering wheel. I counted six times before he almost lost control of the Jeep and had to grab the wheel to steady the vehicle. We fishtailed in a quick jolting motion until the Jeep straightened up. I could smell the burnt rubber from the tires.

  “What are we going to do?” Caleb said nervously.

  Tate swerved to the side of the road and came to a sudden stop. I caught Bray just before her mouth hit the back of Caleb’s seat.

  Tate fumbled for his cell phone somewhere in the front seat and called nine-one-one.

  “A man was just shot,” he said into the phone and then proceeded to give the operator the location of the liquor store.

  Caleb got out of the Jeep and started walking down the center of the road. Tate followed. We watched them argue in the street for a moment.

  “I did it to get money to pay Rocky!” Caleb yelled. “So you wouldn’t have to use all of your savings!”

  “And robbing a liquor store makes it better?!” Tate roared. He hit Caleb in the face.

  Caleb stumbled backward and almost fell, but he didn’t hit back. “I was only trying to scare him! I shot but I aimed at the wall! I didn’t mean to hit him!”

  “What are we going to do, Elias?” Bray asked, her whole body trembling.

  “I don’t know, but we can’t stay with them.”

  Just then Tate jumped back inside and Caleb followed. Before we could even protest, the Jeep lurched into forward motion. We fell heavily against the seat and then forward again.

  “Let us the fuck out!” I tried to shout over the radio and Tate and Caleb screaming at each other in the front. But I don’t think Tate even heard me, he was so blinded by rage.

  “I’m not doing this anymore with you, Caleb!” Tate said. “This is it! I’ll always love you. You’re my brother. But I never want to see you again!” Then his voice began to rise. “What the fuck, man! I just pulled the same stunt they did!” He pointed at us. “I fucking ran to protect your ass! What the fuck was I thinking?! I’m not going down for you! Not anymore! Not like this!”

  We sped by a maroon-colored minivan.

  “Slow down, man,” I said nervously from the backseat. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

  Minutes later we pulled into another convenience store parking lot. Bray and I jumped out quickly before Tate even put the Jeep into Park. I grabbed her hand and pulled her next to me.

  Tate and Caleb started fighting in the front seat. Tate was on top of him, pummeling Caleb with his fists. But this time it was far from being a harmless brotherly squabble. Tate was a merciless animal, raining down blow after blow after heavy, bloody blow onto Caleb’s face. I was afraid he was going to beat him to death.

  I let go of Bray’s hand and she screamed at me as I ran around to the passenger’s side of the car and opened the door. Caleb fell out halfway and I grabbed him by the arms and helped him out the rest of the way. Tate was outside of the Jeep and standing over Caleb on the asphalt before I even had a chance to pull my arms from underneath his.

  “Back off, Tate! You’re going to make a bad situation worse!” I put up my hand, hoping to get him to back down. His balled fists hung bloodied at his sides. His face was twisted with rage. His tats almost looked alive as the muscles in his arms hardened and became more pronounced against the white backdrop of his shirt, also stained by Caleb’s blood.

  “Please, man, just back off,” I pleaded one last time with him.

  Tate’s conscience took control of him again and he took two steps back. His chest rose and fell with heavy, deep breaths that he could hardly steady. I finally let go of Caleb and stood back as he picked himself up from the ground. Blood streamed from both of his nostrils. His left eye was already swollen. He reached up and wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the side of his hand.

  I looked over to see Bray running into the convenience store.

  I ran after her, and I could only wonder what the hell she was doing. I followed her to the ladies’ restroom facilities and without a thought, I barged right in. I didn’t give a damn if there were other people inside. I was worried about Bray. I was worried about what she was capable of.

  The stall door shut with a vociferous bang! and seconds later I heard her throwing up. I wondered why she didn’t just throw up outside, but it was such an insignificant curiosity that I didn’t bother to ask.

  “Baby, are yo
u all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be OK.” She threw up a few more times and I went over to the sink to wet some paper towels for her.

  Bray came out of the stall and I started wiping her face and mouth.

  “What are we going to do?” The floodgates opened and she broke down in tears, pressing her arms against my chest. I wrapped one arm around her back and the other behind her head.

  “I think three days is too long,” I said. “I think it’s time we went home.”

  She looked up at me, and I kissed her forehead.

  “I’m not going home,” she said softly. “I never planned to.”

  I shook my head. “W-What are you saying? Bray, we have to go home. There are no other options.”

  “I love you, Elias, but I’m not going home with you. I’m not going to jail.”

  We were interrupted by a few screams inside the store and then I heard, “Everybody get on the floor!”

  It was Caleb’s voice.

  And that was how we ended up here. In this moment. Holed up in the back of a convenience store with cops surrounding the building.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Present Day

  Elias

  Caleb has been holding me, Bray, and five other people inside the store for the past two hours. The store clerk and two customers have been sitting in the candy bar aisle just feet from us. I can smell urine. I think the woman with the brown hair and wearing a long, flowered dress pissed on herself at some point. Bray and I haven’t moved from the wall in the hallway next to the restrooms.

  My mind is overloaded with… with a little bit of everything. A part of me wants to feel absolutely numb to all of this, but it’s only a small part. The rest of me is fearful but focused. I have to stay focused to get Bray out of here unharmed. I don’t think Caleb will hurt us. I really don’t. But I’m still afraid of what he might do, how far he will go.

  Tate never made it into the store when the cops swarmed the parking lot and jumped out of their cars, drawing their guns. Caleb told us that he had pushed Tate away when Tate tried to follow him inside. He didn’t want Tate to go down with him like this. Whatever that meant.