Moonfire

by M. Rae Gogetap

  “Call Kale, okay?” Dan whispered.

  “Call him what?”

  Dan laughed, making me smile with pleasure. Chocolate for the ears, that was.

  “Call him, and stay close to him. I’m serious, Chelsea. Trust him, and no one else.”

  I nodded my head on the pillow. “K, I will,” I said. I grabbed another handful of the candy.

  “I’m not exactly getting a truthful vibe from you here, Chelsea. For all that is good in this plane of existence, listen to me. Call Kale.”

  I recalled that Kale was in Polacca already, discussing the implications of the prophecy with the elders. Monday would come soon enough. Gabe and I, and presumably Fia, would be in Polacca, then.

  “I promise, I’ll call him,” I said, swirling the peanut butter and chocolate mixture over my tongue. This was my Heaven. The pain in my back had already become a light burning, no longer feeling like it was on fire.

  “Okay, Alef is just outside. He’ll alert you to any danger. After he has disposed of it,” Dan said with confidence. He stood up tall and walked to the balcony door. Just before opening, he turned back.

  “I’ll miss you.”

  “Miss you, too,” I said. My eyelids were heavy with the need for rest, but I managed to blow him another kiss, before succumbing to sleep.

  Later that night, the smell of soy sauce and eggs filled my room, making me open my eyes. Fia stood before me with a box of chicken fried rice.

  “Wake up, sleepy head,” she said, sitting on the floor in front of me, legs crossed. “I brought some munchies.”

  “Hey, Foxy, you shouldn’t have,” I said. “But that smells like Heaven. So thanks.”

  “Well, I was pretty much commanded to feed you, but you’re welcome. Anyway, it’s better than that gross tofu jello Dan eats,” Fia said. We burst into giggles, before I winced from the pain in my back.

  “Here, eat up, I’ll try to dampen my comedic relief,” Fia said.

  She fed me several bites of the fried rice and Kung Pow chicken. When I started to wince from the burning pain, she brought me a couple of the pain pills. I swallowed them noisily, still lying on my stomach.

  She fed me a few more bites. As the pain killers kicked in, I felt light, weightless.

  “You are the best roomy. You’re my hero,” I said, giving her a big smile.

  “Careful, I might be the villain,” she teased. “Just in a hero’s body.”

  “Nope,” I said, smiling at her jade green eyes. “You are so most definitely my hero.”

  “Okay, whatever morphine girl,” Fia said, tucking the blankets up to my shoulders with gentleness. “Rest up, Chel-bear. I’ll check on you in the morning”

  I smiled. “You’ll be a good nurse, Foxy.” I slipped into a medicated sleep, void of both dreams and nightmares. My mind sensed a chance to be at peace, and shut down completely to bask in the void.

  The sharp smell of something burning woke me. Opening one eye with caution, I peered out at my room. Sunshine spilled through the windows in late afternoon rays. Nothing was on fire in the vicinity. But my adrenaline was pumped, so I jumped out of bed. My back still burned from the cuts, but the pain was much more tolerable.

  I padded on bare feet to my bathroom, then gently peeled back the tape that held one of the bandages. Using a cosmetic mirror I checked on the wounds. I gasped. They looked more like a surface scrapes now, just jagged red lines.

  My fingers touched where at least 300 stitches had held my skin together just yesterday. Now, they were completely gone, maybe absorbed by my super-healing body? I shook my head in disbelief. Knowing that I had super-healing ability was one thing, but seeing the product was a much scarier revelation. It wasn’t just my bones that were strong.

  Memories of other injuries replayed through my mind. Once I had been thrown from my bike after hitting Jimmy Palmer’s skateboard, which he had let roll down his driveway just as I was riding by. I had sprawled in the Palmer’s driveway, the left side of my face, palms, and both knees scrapped clean of skin. Even at eight years old, Aunt Mer’s strict policy of no crying had been imprinted deeply upon my mind. To Jimmy’s mother’s horror, I stood up and walked across the street back home. When she brought my bike back shortly afterwards, she told my Aunt that she was more frightened that I didn’t cry than anything else. Aunt Mer always said that we were strong-willed Shephard women, and a little pain shouldn’t move us to tears. I had missed Monday and Tuesday of school that week, and Meredith had indulged me with my favorite candy and jalapeno and pineapple pizza from Zio’s Pizzeria two days in a row. By Wednesday I was mended, and Meredith brought me to school as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I was clueless that I should have taken longer to heal.

  Now, I knew why Mrs. Palmer had turned white when she saw me getting on the school bus that Wednesday morning, two days later. The deep scrapes that had covered my body were completely healed. But she was always friendly after that, I’m sure in no small part thanks to Meredith’s charm.

  Donning a fresh pair of my apartment uniform of yoga pants and t-shirt, I went in search of the cause of the offensive odor that woke me up in the first place. As I walked down the hall, I heard someone whistling.

  Fia was dressed in a lime green tank with darker green petals across the neckline, and a pair of designer jeans. She was waving at smoke coming from the toaster. On the stove, more smoke was being sucked in by a noisey exhaust fan, which must have felt surprised to be used for the first time since Fia or I moved in.

  “Hey, Foxy, feeling domestic?” I teased, walking over to inspect the stove top smokiness.

  “So we’re sticking with that nickname? How original,” Fia said, but she smirked. “I was going for a little celebration dinner. Figured you’d be feeling good as new tonight.”

  I raised my eyebrows but didn’t rise to the challenge. She wanted to discuss what she knew, and what I knew. But I thought we could put that off a little while longer. I was sure she was just a pawn in her father’s schemes, but I wanted more time to observe from the sidelines for as long as I could, feigning ignorance, taking in information. When the time came for me to make my move, hopefully I’d know enough to make the right choices.

  “Celebration dinner, huh? This smells more like some sort of pagan sacrifice.” I wrinkled my nose. “Is that supposed to be meatloaf?”

  “Yeah, it’s a mix of bison and turkey, supposed to be pretty lean. Frank brought by some groceries. This frozen garlic cheese toast, it’s supposed to be easy to make. Frank said if I could make meatloaf then I could warm up some toast. But… the toaster incinerated it.”

  I laughed. “You’re not supposed to put frozen cheese toast in the toaster, Fia. Didn’t you read the directions? It goes in the oven.”

  “Well that makes no sense. Why do they call it toast?” she said, taking a fork from the drawer and moving to the toaster. “I’m going to have to excavate this crap now, heyeeeeee!”

  Fia shrieked as I jumped ninja-style and batted the fork out of her hand. It clattered as it landed on the tile floor.

  “Fia, you cannot stick metal in a toaster that’s plugged in!” I cried. “You could be electrocuted!”

  Fia crossed her arms. “Whatever. I’ve never freaking cooked before. Figures I’d screw it up. Stupid toaster, keep the cheese bread. I’ll just have Frank buy me a new one.” She stomped over to the toaster, unplugged the still smoking appliance and threw it into the trashcan. I rolled my eyes and poured some water into the trashcan to smother any remaining sparks.

  “Aw Fia, I feel honored to be your first victim,” I said, nudging her with my shoulder. We walked up to the stove to check out the turk-alo loaf, sitting next to a pot of edible looking whole cut green beans.

  An ear-splitting shot rang through my ears. My pulse raced and I pulled Fia down to the cold tile floor. I covered my ears, crouching next to Fia. Her eyes were wide with fear. We were both breathing fast.

  “What the hell was that!” I screeched. Fi
a shook her head.

  “Has their been a security breach?” a voice deep as a bass drum asked.

  Fia and I both looked up at the man speaking, holding each other’s arms in fear. He had dark brown skin and a short military style black hair. He was wearing a black leather jacket similar to Dan’s and dark jeans.

  “Oh, are you Alef?” I asked. He nodded. My eyes darted out the window, searching for the cause of the noise. Alef’s eyes were narrowed as he looked around. It worried me that my new guard didn’t know what happened, either.

  I took in the kitchen when nothing appeared at the window. There were clumps of something dark splattered throughout the kitchen. Alef inspected a shard of what looked like glass on the floor, and sniffed something brown.

  “Are they okay?” Seema asked, joining us in the small kitchen. She was still in her black tank and red capris from earlier. I exhaled in relief, glad she was there.

  “It appears to be an assault from the stove,” Alef said. “Was someone attempting to cook?”

  Fia snorted, and stood up. I nudged her again, and chuckled. “Fia, the turk-alo loaf exploded! What did you use for breadcrumbs, gunpowder?”

  Then Fia started laughing hard. It was high pitched and bubbly. She laughed so hard that she clutched her stomach and leaned her head on my shoulder. I joined her and we laughed until tears came to our eyes. It was nice to her a genuine laugh from Fia.

  We explained the cooking calamity to Seema, and were properly introduced to Alef. Fia had set her pyrex dish of meatloaf, fresh from the oven, on the lit flame of the burner that the green beans had been cooking on. Fia promised never to step foot in the kitchen again.

  Seema didn’t bother explaining why they had suddenly shown up to Fia, and they left with little more than a goodbye. My toe cramped. When was Seema going to talk to me? What was she feeling so bad about?

  “Alef is good looking,” I said, plopping down on the couch with a plate of green beans. Fia sat next to me, placing a bag of beef jerky between us.

  “Yeah, Daddy never learns,” she said, taking a bite of the green beans.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to hide a wave of anxiety from my voice.

  “The body guards are always wicked hot, and, well, I hit on them all. Hell, I’ve slept with a couple. They’re not allowed to sleep with me, it’s in the contract now. But when have rules ever kept a demon in his pants?” She raised her eyebrows at me, tearing off a bite of jerky.

  I swallowed my food, throat dry. “Oh, so you know about the demons.”

  “Uh, yeah. My father kind of controls half their population,” she said with her usual sarcasm. “I sort of have a confession to make. Dan and I have met before.”

  My heart seemed to stop beating. Blood rushed to my ears, and all I could hear was the sound of blood flowing. No, no, no. Not her, too. Had Dan slept with Fia? The grapefruit, the blonde hair in the brush from the cabin. I couldn’t find words to speak aloud. This is what Aunt Mer had been trying to warn me about.

  “Chelsea, you look sort of green,” Fia said, angling towards me on the couch. “That’s enough beans, have some jerky.”

  I took the jerky and stared at it. I could not form words. All I could think was that I thought I loved Dan. My guardian. My rock. I thought Fia was a pretty good friend. But if Fia had slept with the man I loved… how could I look at her the same again?

  Mine.

  “That cottage in the woods, with the vaulted ceilings, is that yours?”

  Fia gave me a small smile. “When he showed up that night, on the balcony, I saw the way he looked at you. He’s in deep, Chelsea. I wouldn’t let him the apartment that night, but I saw how hopeless he was for you. When you passed out, I told him that I’d help you inside. I wasn’t ready to trust him in my home, not then.”

  My heart was beating hard now.

  “Was that your cottage Fia?” I raised my voice.

  “Yeah, it was. Are you mad that Dan and I pretended not to know each other? I wasn’t sure how much you know about the whole aliens-are-among-us deal. I didn’t want to blow Dan’s cover, he’s already in some hot shit with my Dad right now.”

  I glanced up at Fia. I took controlled breaths. My chest rose and fell as I fought the urge to scream. “You thought I might not sleep with Dan myself if I knew that you had slept with him, too?”

  Fia’s jaw dropped. “Oh my lord. No. No, Chelsea, I did not sleep with Dan. Not that I wouldn’t have considered it, I mean look at him. But he’s always been extremely off limits. If you want to run for political office amongst the demons, you don’t go and sleep with, well, anyone. It’s frowned upon. Political service amongst the demons means severing all personal ties. It means serving for the greater good, and forgoing all personal goals for the betterment of the group.”

  I let out a breath. The part about politics meant nothing to me. Fia and Dan had never been an item. Thank god. Could I have survived such a revelation? My territorial feelings for Dan had consumed me in that moment. I was in love. Dammit. I needed to get a grip. I couldn’t think about the scope of my relationship with Dan right now. Time to change the subject.

  “So, your Dad’s in deep in demons and dentistry, and yet he still wants you to get a career in nursing?”

  “He threatened to take away my car, my wardrobe allowance, and my housing allowance. He’s dead serious, though for the life of me I’ve no idea why. We both know I suck at exams. The only thing that I was ever good at was gymnastics.”

  “Fia, if you knew so much about gymnastics to be a favorite in the Nationals for the all-around, you can learn how to study for an exam.”

  Fia’s jaw dropped open. “How’d you know?”

  I shrugged. “After I saw all of your trophies, I googled you.”

  “Stalker,” she said, but she was smiling.

  “Seriously. Let’s call Gabe and start studying for this weeks test. We need to catch you up on IV preparation and administration from last week, too. You can do this, Fia. We’ll help you.”

  Fia shrugged, acting like it didn’t bother her. But she gave me a small smile. “Thanks, Chels. I’m really glad you’re here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sacrifices

  EARLY MONDAY MORNING, Fia, Gabe and I set out for our drive to Polacca. Gabe and Fia fought for control of the music.

  “This bass is giving me a headache. There’s such a thing as too early when it comes to hip-hop. Che, will you put on your 70’s road trip list? ” Gabe looked at me in the rearview mirror with hope. Fia rolled her eyes.

  “How old are you, grandpa? All the kids listen to this nowadays,” Fia said. To my surprise, she turned the volume dial down. “And I thought I told you, Chelsea likes going by her given name. Che sounds like a dude.”

  “It’s sort of a throwback,” I said, giving Gabe a knowing smile. Fia noticed our look.

  “A throwback to what?” she asked.

  Gabe told her about our more eventful first trip out to Polacca. When he finished, Fia burst out laughing. Gabe smiled wide with satisfaction.

  As Gabe drove in silence for the next couple of hours, Fia napped, and I pretended to read a running magazine. But I worried about Seema. I still hadn’t heard from her since the turk-a-lo eruption. She’d ignored my texts. I didn’t feel like calling her myself. Whether she felt guilty about me getting hurt at Sunset Crater, or she was pissed at me for hanging around Dan, I wasn’t sure. She could call when she decided to stop being an idiot.

  When we arrived at the hospital compound, I showed Fia to the apartment we’d call home Monday through Wednesday for the next few weeks. I gave Fia credit. Despite her wide eyes and curled lip, she held her head high without complaining about the austere quarters.

  “Che, for the love of all that’s holy, please tell me there are no roaches,” she said, placing her suitcase in her bedroom. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

  “There are no roaches,” I said, eyes wide with innocence. Fia wouldn’t be stepping in
side a kitchen other than to open a fridge anytime soon. The likelihood of her stumbling upon the roach trap under the kitchen sink was slim, given recent events.

  After unloading our suitcases, we walked to the PHN office to collect our schedule. First on our list of field visits was Poli. When Fia found out Julia Kuyesva was Poli’s neighbor, she refused to drive out with Gabe and I. An understanding medical technician in the public health trailer took pity on her.

  “Exes are the worst, right?” he said. He found a stack of paperwork for Fia to file while Gabe and I visited Poli. We made plans to pick her up afterward for the other patient visits.

  Gabe and I found our way to Poli’s house, passing by the tree-stone again. I felt a tingling sensation in my feet. Dust blew up around my shoes as I tried to stomp back the circulation. My black scrubs with pink trim dusted with dirt. Dust clouds swirled up as we walked and tickled my nose. I sneezed into my shoulder, and as I inhaled my throat filled with the dry dust.

  “Gah, watch it!” Gabe complained, wiping dust from his dark blue pants. “These are the only scrubs I packed for the week.”

  “Who brings one pair of scrubs for three working days?” I said, grumpy. My legs tingled to my thighs now.

  “Hey, I’m going to be a pharmacist, remember? I don’t deal with bodily fluids, at least that’s the goal,” he said with a shudder. I rolled my eyes. Some people were not cut out to be nurses.

  As we walked up the path to Poli’s small house, a sweet scent wafted through the air, relieving the gritty taste in my mouth. Tendrils of smoke curled out the front window in greeting.

  Julia opened the door before we had a chance to knock. In her jean shorts and red short sleeved shirt, she looked young. But not innocent. I steeled myself for another confrontation.