“I’ll be by around seven to get you then. Okay?”
I nodded, keeping my mouth closed in case the bile decided to creep up any further. He had almost left the porch but stopped for a second, turning back to face us. His hand was in the air, as if it had caught a lost thought.
“I forgot to tell you that the Sayner that we had ran off last night. I was wondering, Sally, if you had seen him at all?”
The bile was moving again. I didn’t need a mirror to know that my face had turned a sickly green. I wanted to excuse myself, but Sally was still behind me, and I didn’t want to make a scene when I knocked her over in a sprint to the bathroom. She apparently wasn’t surprised he had asked. She sounded prepared for it.
”No. I haven’t seen him,” she replied, the lie flowing from her lips. “I’m sorry to hear. I’m sure your dad is pretty upset. I’ll definitely let you know if I do.”
“Well, that’s good. I doubt he got far, but you two be careful and keep your doors locked. He could be dangerous, and I wouldn’t want to see either of you get hurt.” He was looking at me again. I looked down, avoiding eye contact, attempting not to give anything away. I gave him a weak smile back, clenching my jaw tight. He turned back away again, waving behind him as he left.
As soon as I knew he wasn’t turning around again, I shut the door, swinging around to give Sally a look of death. My stomach was still somersaulting, but it would have to wait.
“How could you make me go out with him?” I demanded. “I’m going to blow everything. He’s going to figure it out.”
She didn’t stop smiling. I had such an urge to wipe the grin off her face. Instead, I balled up my fists, holding them tight against my body. The lurch in my abdomen stopped my anger flat, and my curled up fists pulled around my stomach, holding it. I would have been happy to throw up on her, instead.
“You’ll be fine, and if you said ‘no’ he would have just kept coming back every day till you said ‘yes’, and you know it. Besides, you’re a great liar. You even had me convinced that you were sick.”
I rolled my eyes at her, hoping she saw the expression on my face. The last thing I wanted was to lead some guy on. In a different time and place, Derrick may have been that one guy I would have fallen for. I would have to fake my way through a date, though, give him a great excuse to never go out again. I had a week to plan it. How hard could it really be?
I stormed back off to the kitchen. My appetite was gone, in light of what had just taken place. I started putting the groceries away one at a time, giving my brain time to catch up to everything that was going on. I had been on an emotional roller coaster for the past eighteen hours, and I wasn’t sure it could take any more. Sally had no problem taking all this in stride. She was always able to roll with the punches in any situation.
She had followed me back, taking the items out of the bags, helping me put them away in silence. She pulled out a bag of frozen peas and opened the freezer to put them away, and saw the rows of bagged ice I had made the previous night. She gave a long sigh as she crammed them into an open corner and shut the door. I knew it was coming. The silence couldn’t last forever.
“Emily, you’re taking this all a little too personal. I know you mean well, and I really admire your drive to want to do everything, but it’s getting to you, and starting to show. Just last night, you wanted him out of the house as soon as possible and now…now you’re going over the top. Saving him is not going to bring her back.”
Her words stung. She had hit so close to the truth, it was painful to admit that she was right; I had become so obsessed with doing everything right that I had forgotten about the real reason why. I was still being selfish, in my own way. I knew deep down it wouldn’t change the fact that my mom was gone forever, but I was using him as an excuse to hold on to that idea.
I set the loaf of bread in my hand back on the counter and looked up at her. I could see the concern in her eyes. “What do you want me to do?” I was trying not to cry again. I wasn’t even sure I could produce any more tears after the last jag.
“I just want you to take a break for a little bit. I know your heart is in the right place, but I need your head there too. Why don’t you eat, and like I told you to before, go lie down and get some sleep? I have to leave here in a few hours, but I’m sure he’ll be fine overnight. You can have a fresh start in the morning.”
As she spoke, her offer sounded like I might have a choice on what I wanted to do, but her expression was telling me it was done deal.
“Fine, but I’m sleeping on the couch. Chase trashed my room last night, and I’m not going to go look for clean sheets.” At least I felt I had a little bit of say in what I was going to do.
“Whatever you want to do. If something changes, I’ll let you know.” She had already finished with the groceries, and had started refilling the bucket in the sink. I pulled out a plate and loaded a leg and thigh onto it. It was still hot, and smelled fantastic. I almost had the entire leg finished before I even reached the couch. Avoiding the mud at the one end, I plopped down and turned on the TV. For a Sunday night, I had no idea what was on and really didn’t care. I was willing to watch just about anything to take my mind off the situation.
I flipped through the channels and settled on some movie with actors I didn’t know. From what I could tell, it was one of those situational comedies where someone does something outrageous and then tries to cover it up with lies or other acts that no sane person would ever think to do. I wasn’t finding the humor in it, mostly because I wanted to go back downstairs to see how things were going, and wasn’t paying attention to the plot. I forced myself to scarf down the second piece of chicken, and set my plate on the coffee table to get in the morning. Stretching out along the couch, I pulled the blanket up around me and tucked my arm under my head. I laid there watching the actors dance along the screen, hardly able to focus on them any longer. Sleep was taking over and tomorrow would be another day. I knew I would be ready for whatever it decided to throw at me.
7.
I had been asleep for hours, but had no idea what time it was, when I suddenly awoke from my dreamless sleep. I thought I had heard screaming, but there was only the muffled sound of the clock in the kitchen ticking away the minutes. I had to have imagined it. I sat and waited, hoping my mind had being playing a trick on me. Maybe it had been the start of a dream never finished. Looking around, everything was still in the house. The lights were off, with the living room illuminated only by the glow of the television on a late night infomercial. Sally had picked up my plate from earlier, and had more than likely muted the TV before leaving. I was still wiping the sleep from my eyes when I heard it again. This time there was no imagining anything. I had heard that gut-wrenching scream before. It was a sound I had never wanted to hear again.
As soon as it started up, it seemed to be choked off in the middle, as though someone had been holding their hand over his mouth to stop him. He was silent again. I couldn’t even hear the clock ticking over my rapid heartbeat pounding in my ears. Something was wrong, and I was having a hard time just getting up to go see. Part of it was terror that I would go down there and wouldn’t be able to do anything but watch. The other part was a dread that I was too late, and didn’t want to go down and find Job’s body lying there, lifeless.
Again there was the howl of pain, this one lasting longer than the others before being cut off. I pulled myself up, my legs feeling like dead weights as I desperately tried to move. It felt like I was moving in slow motion, no matter how much effort I put into getting through the kitchen and down the stairs. I had no idea what to expect when I entered his room.
Before getting to the final step, I could see the pillows that had been kicked to the ground. One had come to a rest at the foot of the stairs. I half expected to see that he had tried to get up and leave on his own, a feat I knew would be nearly impossible without major consequences. Reaching the bottom, I stared in wonder.
What I was witnessing a
lmost couldn’t be described. I had never seen anything like it. He was still on the bed, but only partially. The sheet had been bunched up and tossed to the side, only covering part of his good leg. Where his other leg was supposed to be, there was only the splint. It was still fully formed, as if encasing his leg and ankle like before, but where his foot should have been, there was only the shape of it, made entirely of swirling sand the same color as his skin. It traveled up his leg, above the splint, then reformed to skin across his knee and thigh. The left side of his torso was intact, fading out to more of the moving sand where the right side should have been. The only thing left was the bandage and tape that had been covering the deep stitches in his side. It was saturated in red, and may have been a sign that the stitches had come apart due to the stress it was under. The shift climbed up his side and into his shoulder, leaving only his arm. Even his hand had shifted, and was the churning outline of a fist. Most of his face and neck had transformed, with only the right eye, which was closed, unaffected.
There was no sound coming from the gaping mouth of particles. Almost every injury had shifted, creating the shape of his body, but almost translucent. I could see the sheet underneath his head through his altered face. I watched as the swirling suddenly started to take form again, becoming whole. As it reached his mouth, the ear-shattering cry picked up where it had left off. Every vein in his arms and neck bulged against the pain, and his entire body glistened with beads of sweat.
He didn’t even know I was down there, too consumed with his own problems. I wasn’t sure if the shifts were causing the pain, or if the pain was causing the shifts. Either way, it wasn’t stopping on its own, and I had no idea how long he could keep this up. The cell phone was still lying on the floor where I had set it the afternoon before. I considered calling Sally, to see if she had any suggestions on how to stop what was going on. I had a feeling she would be just as puzzled as I was. I had to do something, and quick. The anxiety was clouding my brain. Desperate thoughts buzzed around in my head – Think, Emily. Think. Think…Copper.
I remembered that copper stopped the shifts, but the knife that had been removed from his side was with Sally. It would take too long for her to get here. Where was an old copper penny when you needed one? I remember a time when it was easy to find one on the sidewalk, discarded by the unimportant value of one cent, but times had changed, and they had become a precious metal. If only.
I didn’t hesitate, running up the stairs and straight to my room, my feet carrying me swiftly across the linoleum and carpet. In my dresser was the answer to my dilemma. It was now a matter of locating it. I dumped each drawer out on my bed, rummaging through the contents. At last I found it, in the black velvet box I had put it away in.
Hanging from a silver chain was the penny my mom had given to me when I was just a child. Across the bust of Lincoln, someone had punched out a heart shaped hole. It was a novelty gift bought at a small shop along the beach in South Carolina while we were on vacation. I still remember begging my mom to get it for me because it was so unique. At the time, I never would have thought this little trinket one day might be a life-saving tool.
Tearing it from its box, I rushed back to the sounds of misery coming from the basement. I reached the bed in time for them to be muted again. I fumbled with the cheap clasp, my hands shaking violently to the rhythm of my fluttering heart. I wasn’t even sure if just its contact would stop his screams, but it was better than nothing.
The coin touched his shape of a throat, and instantly his skin began to reform to a solid mass. Its effect spread throughout the rest of his body, and the scream began again. For a moment, I considered taking it back off, but chose to ignore that impulse. I would at least give it a few minutes. I pulled the chain around his neck, clasping it behind his head. His skin wasn’t nearly as hot as before, and I assumed that his fever had broken. The feel of my shaking hands must have alerted him to my presence, for the wails died down to a whimper. At last they stopped, and he opened his eyes, still filled with fear. I couldn’t help but jump back, remembering the last time he had been startled. My wrist was still sore from his grip.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew I had to say something, but the fear he might be feeling couldn’t compare to how terrified I was. “J–Job? I’m Em–Emily. Do you remember me?” I wasn’t expecting a reply. He stared at me intently with his wide brown eyes, as if to respond just by his look.
Now that he had stopped shifting from solid to sand and back again, it was easy to see that a lot of the swelling around his eye had come down, allowing him to see with both. The coloration had gotten worse, creating a kaleidoscope of blacks and purples with faded edges of green and orange. Perspiration clung to his skin, and his hair was soaked.
“You know that you were beat up pretty bad. You’re going to have to stay here for a while.” He seemed to understand everything that I was saying, and his body relaxed a bit, not nearly as scared as before. I still didn’t want to move any closer, afraid he would grab for me again and this time not let go. I held my hands out of the way behind my back, keeping out of reach.
“I need to check your stitches. I’m not going to try to hurt you, but I’m sorry if I do.”
Staying close to the wall, I scooted around the bed, keeping my distance. I pulled out a fresh dressing and tape, and proceeded to remove the bloodied one, watching his hand closely for any sudden moves. Pulling the dressing back, the wound looked better than it had the first night, with just a small amount of blood collected between each stitch. Most of it appeared to be healed over, but I wasn’t about to make that decision without Sally’s opinion. I placed the clean pad over the wound and taped it in place, quickly backing away again. Looking up at him, his expression was more of a curious one than anything. He looked interested in everything I was doing. He glanced down at his leg and back at me, as though he was asking what was wrong.
“Your leg has a really bad break. Sally did everything she could to fix it, but I need you to try not to move it, if you can. Okay?”
I collected the scattered pillows on the ground, rounding them up to place back under his leg. I could tell he was starting to panic again by the grip on the bed sheets and the tenseness of his body. He must have been recalling the previous night, and worried that this was going to be the same. It wasn’t worth putting him through any more trauma; I placed the pillows on the chair next to him. It was something that could wait till later.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get you some ice and some water. I’m not sure if you’re hungry, but there is some leftover chicken in the fridge, if you want it?” His eyes got wide, like everything I was offering sounded great. I could almost see a hint of a smile.
My legs were starting to ache from the constant up and down of the staircase. It wasn’t that I wasn’t in shape, but I never much cared for a stair climber machine, so why would I like this now? The less trips the better. If there was anything else I needed, I wanted to grab it on this ascent. I was trying to think of anything I missed, and remembered the list that Sally had left, sitting in my room. It was still on the dresser, half unfolded where I had last left it.
Looking around the bedroom, I noticed that I had made a mess of clothes and empty drawers. The comforter was still balled up on the floor. It was late, and I had no desire to pick it up now. If I wasn’t going to use it tonight, though, at least it might get some use downstairs. There was no need to show him how much of a slob I had been in just the last couple days, so I took the time to fold it up neatly and carry it out into the kitchen with me.
In the fridge was the chicken, still in its little plastic container. The only thing missing from it was the part I had taken earlier. The thought of food made me hungry again, and I grabbed the entire container and two bottles of water, tossing the bags of ice on top of the comforter. Balancing everything in my arms, holding the bottles with my chin, I prayed that I wouldn’t go falling blindly down the stairs, since I couldn’t see them. I took one st
ep at a time, looking out the corner of my eye, hoping to see the edge of the frame before I stepped forward too soon.
My view was blocked by the burden I was carrying, and it was difficult trying to maneuver around the bed. I amazed myself by not running into anything. I set everything down on an empty spot on the bed, making sure the bottles didn’t roll off, so I wouldn’t have to chase after them. There was something different about the room I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Everything was where it belonged. Job was in the bed, crumpled sheet at the bottom of the mattress, pillows tucked back under his leg…
“You did this yourself? I thought I had told you not to move it?” I felt like I was training a puppy that had just peed on the carpet. All I needed was a rolled up newspaper to swat him on the nose. I probably would have looked for one, but he was already paying the price for his actions, his hand gripping his side again, protecting the broken ribs that were still healing. It was hard not to feel sorry for him. “Why?”
I knew there would be no verbal answer to my question. His body language was doing the talking. Through gritted teeth the corners of lips turned up, forcing a partial smile, eyebrows raised. It was a pathetic gesture I would have expected from a typical male. He may have been from another world or even galaxy, but he was still a guy, through and through. I couldn’t help myself but to roll my eyes and smile back. It broke the tension in the room, and I was able to feel a little more at ease. The fear of him was still there, but had moved further back in my mind.
“So, tough guy, since you’re feeling so much better, did you want me to feed you, or sit up and eat yourself?” I half expected him to continue lying there, waiting for me to serve him hand and foot, but instead, he used his arm to push himself up, grimacing the entire time. I could see it was a strain getting into even a halfway seated position.
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