by G. P. Ching
“Lau, I’m talking to you.” Dane spread his hands like he was surprised Jacob wasn’t responding, as if they talked every day.
“What do you want, Dane?”
“I want to show you something. Can you come with me, outside?”
“No.”
“Come on, Lau. There’s someone I need you to meet.” Dane looked agitated. He had dark circles under his eyes and Jacob could smell that spicy sweet stench on him again, like a combination of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and coffee breath.
“Why would I go with you, Dane? What? Are a bunch of your friends going to jump me as soon as we’re outside?”
“No. It’s not like that. Listen, Lau, I met someone who wants to meet you. I don’t know why but it’s important. Just come with me, all right?”
“No way. I’m not going anywhere with you. If you’re going to do something to me, do it right here. And, don’t think I don’t know you were behind what happened to Malini last night.” He pointed a finger at Dane’s face.
Dane chuckled. “Hey, that was just a joke. Besides, it was Amy, not me. Now stop messing around and come on.” His hand shot out and grabbed Jacob’s shoulder.
“Let go of me,” he said, yanking free of Dane’s grip.
Dane looked frustrated. He opened his mouth as if to say something else but then seemed to give up. Instead, he sank his shoulder into Jacob’s gut and tried to lift him from the floor. Apparently if he wasn’t willing to come voluntarily, Dane was prepared to force him.
Jacob sank a knee into his chest and with a twist freed himself. Thinking fast, he sprinted toward the office. No way would Dane pursue him there. But he was wrong. Something hard hit his ankles and his forearms slapped the linoleum floor with such force, pain shot up both elbows. He clenched his teeth to avoid yelling out. Paris High School had a zero tolerance policy. If he was caught fighting with Dane, they’d both be suspended regardless of who started it.
Dane’s body weight was on top of his calves from the tackle. There had to be something he could do to fight him off. But every time he pushed himself up off the floor, Dane pulled his legs back, flattening him to the linoleum. The worst part was he knew Malini would be coming out of Mrs. Jacques’ room any minute. If Dane hurt her…
In an army crawl, he pulled Dane toward the wall. If he could just get some leverage, he might be able to flip himself over. He reached for the pipes of the water fountain across from the office. The silver tube hung down from the porcelain bowl, almost level with his head, and he desperately gripped the cold steel. The humming started again, the same as that day at the grocery store. He could hear the water, calling to him from the pipes. Everything slowed. He tried to gather the hum inside, like he’d done before.
The door to Mrs. Jacques’ room opened. It was now or never.
The release reverberated inside his chest. Water sprayed from the fountain toward Dane’s face, not a gentle spray but like hail that formed in the air. The sharp pieces pegged Dane in the forehead and he released Jacob’s ankles to block his face with his hands.
“Ahh! Crap!” Dane yelled from behind his forearms.
Jacob flipped onto his feet, leapt over Dane, and headed for Malini, who was emerging from the science lab.
The fountain stopped, just as Principal Bailey stepped out from the office door.
“What’s going on out here?” he asked. His eyes moved from Dane to the puddle of water on the floor, which was all that was left of the hail, and then toward Jacob. He stood at the other end of the hall, completely dry.
Dane stood on wobbly legs, holding his head.
Principal Bailey gave Dane another once over and then turned back toward Malini and Jacob. Eyes squinting in their direction, he looked much older than the man Jacob had met the first day of school.
“You two move along,” he said. He placed a hand on Dane’s arm. “Let’s have a talk in my office, Dane.”
“We need to go,” Jacob said to Malini. He took her hand and headed for the exit. As he held the door open for her, he looked back to see Dane seething with rage as he followed Principal Bailey into his office.
“What was that all about?” Malini asked.
“Dane.”
Malini needed no further explanation. She nodded and walked faster toward Main Street.
* * * * *
“So what did he say to you?” Malini asked once they were safely nestled into their regular booth at McNaulty’s.
“He wanted me to come with him. He said he wanted to, I don’t know, introduce me to someone or something. It was really weird.”
“What do you think he was trying to do?”
“It’s obvious. He wanted to get back at me for that day at Westcott’s. I’m sure a bunch of his friends were waiting somewhere to beat me senseless.”
Malini took a deep breath, puffing up her cheeks before allowing the air to escape her lips.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jacob said. “School is almost over and I’m sure Dane will find something better to do than to torment us over the summer.”
“I hope you’re right.”
With school winding down for the year, Jacob was looking forward to being free of Dane’s clutches. As a bonus, Katrina would be graduating. She’d been accepted at the University of Illinois. It would be a relief to not have her around next year. Of course, he hoped not to be there either. If all went well with Dr. Silva, he’d be back home on Oahu in a few weeks.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Malini asked.
“I have to work.” He didn’t attempt to hide the disappointment in his voice.
“That’s right, you’re still working for your neighbor to pay off the window.”
“Yep. I have a feeling it’s going to take a while.”
“Is it hard work?”
“If you consider shoveling compost for five hours hard work.”
“Ugh. Sounds awful. Is that woman nice to you?”
“Dr. Silva? She’s all right, I guess,” he said. There was no way he was going to try to explain his relationship with Dr. Silva.
“Hmm, because she gives me the creeps.”
“You’ve met her?”
“Just once, with my dad. She came into his office to file the claim on her window. My dad started acting strange, like he couldn’t do enough for her. She just kept staring him down. Have you noticed how she rarely blinks? How she almost always wears black? And, her house gives new meaning to the term Goth.”
“Did you talk with her?” he asked.
“No. I wasn’t feeling well, so I excused myself. It didn’t stop me from hearing their conversation though. It was embarrassing the way my dad tripped over himself to help her. She was just, I don’t know, odd.”
“Yeah, you should see her cat. Creepy big and she doesn’t go anywhere without it.”
“Wow, so I was right. She’s totally whacked.”
“As far as I can tell.”
The sound of the door opening behind him interrupted their conversation. Uncle John entered and walked up to their booth.
“Jacob, I’m done at the store. It’s time to go,” he said. “Hello, Malini.”
“Hi, Mr. Laudner.”
“Do you need a ride home?”
“No, sir, I’m meeting my dad at his office.”
“Okay then.”
“See you later,” Jacob said, sliding from the booth to follow John out the door and across the pebble parking lot to Big Blue.
“How was your day?” John asked as he started the engine and pulled out onto Main Street.
“Fine,” Jacob answered toward the window.
“Seems like you’re spending a lot of time with Malini. She a nice girl?”
“Yep.”
They sat in silence for a while, as John made the turn onto Rural Route One. Jacob stared out the window and hoped John wouldn’t try to talk with him again. Without warning, the truck veered onto the shoulder and came to a rough stop.
Surprised, Jacob turned tow
ard John. The man stared over the steering wheel, eyes blank. His foot rested on the brake.
“John?” he prodded.
“Jacob, do you know why I brought you here, to Paris?” he said to the windshield.
Jacob didn’t answer. He didn’t know.
“Do you think a person is only as good as the worst thing they’ve ever done?” John turned to face him as he said it, shifting the car into park.
Jacob thought about what his uncle said. Memories of all the things he’d done wrong in his life came rushing back: memories of his father and mother punishing him for getting into a fight at school, staying out past dark, and the time he tried unsuccessfully to steal candy from the grocery store. He remembered his parents explaining to him, loving him through his mistakes. He thought of the day with Katrina’s dolls, how angry he’d been. Then he thought about his mother and the fight they’d had in the apartment. If he believed she was only as good as the worst thing she’d ever done, he’d have given up on her long ago.
“No, I think people make mistakes and learn from them. I think most people get better after the worst thing they’ve done—if they want to.”
“Well, what happened with your dad was the worst thing I’ve ever done.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin and looked at the floor of the car. “I brought you here because I lost touch with your father before he died. You look so much like him, you know. Sure your coloring’s a little different but your eyes, the way you hold your head … What I’m trying to say, Jacob, is that I brought you here because I want to know you. I want to know who you are.”
“Why?” Jacob snapped. “I’m never going to be what you want me to be. I’m not like you or the people here. This isn’t home to me.”
“That may be true and you may only be here for the next three years and then be off to fame and fortune, to never speak to a Laudner again. But aren’t you curious, Jacob? Doesn’t even some part of you want to know who your father was? I lived with your father for eighteen years, you know. We were close for a long time. Don’t you want to know what he was like?”
Jacob couldn’t look away from John’s eyes. For the first time, he saw in John what John had seen in him. John was Charlie’s brother. They shared the same chin, the same pale green eyes, and more importantly the same history. He had to admit, what John said was starting to make sense.
“Jacob, this thing that you are doing. This, I talk to you and you do everything in your power not to talk back thing, it’s not getting it done.”
“I talk to you!”
“Only if you want something or if I ask you a direct question. Never because you want to. Nothing about this relationship is going to help either one of us keep the spirit of your father alive. If that’s how you want it, then continue this attitude. But if you want something more—if you want to actually be part of your father’s family, be here, really be here with us. I, for one, would love to have you.”
John turned back to the steering wheel, threw the car into drive, and re-entered the road. The only sound in the car was the familiar roll of the wheels on imperfect concrete and pebbles clinking against the rusty trucks exterior. Mile after mile rolled by with John’s words tumbling inside Jacob’s head.
It wasn’t until John turned into the driveway that Jacob decided.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I’d really like to know more about my dad and his family.”
That evening, Jacob spent hours going through Laudner family albums with John. He told John stories of the last years of his dad’s life and John told him about the early years. By midnight, both of them knew each other better and started to piece together the life of the man who was both Charlie Laudner and Charles Lau.
Together, they picked out a picture from the back of one of the albums, his father in his army uniform, and hung it in the upstairs hallway. It had been a long time since Charlie’s photograph had hung beside his brothers and sisters. The image looked at home there, now.
Jacob lay under the pink comforter that night and stared into the darkness. Although he still wanted to find his mom and he still hated Paris, he wasn’t angry anymore. The last thought that entered his mind as he drifted off to sleep was the sensation that his dad was somehow watching over him. Somewhere, in the darkness, he was with him.
Chapter 18
No One Said Anything About Shots
Jacob’s theory that Dr. Silva would take it easy on him because he knew about Oswald proved false, and he found himself sweating over some disgusting horticultural task every Saturday morning. It was just such a day, when he was weeding the seedling tomato plants in the raised beds, that Dr. Silva approached him with a smile that showed a few too many teeth.
“June tenth is just around the corner.”
“Yes, I know. I’m excited to go.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure. But there are preparations to be made.” She was standing with her hands behind her back.
He stopped digging and dusted the dirt from his pants. “What kind of preparations?”
“Roll up your sleeve.”
“Why?”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, just do it. Would it kill you to trust me just this once?”
Since she put it that way, he rolled up his sleeve. No sooner had he pulled his hand away than hers shot out and grabbed his bare shoulder. Jacob barely saw the glint of the needle before she thrust it into his muscle like a dart and pressed the plunger. It was over before he could say, “Owww.”
“We are traveling to the Amazon. Immunizations—just in case.” She held up the empty syringe.
“You could have just asked me,” he said, rubbing his arm.
“It hurts more if you can see it coming, or so I am told.”
“You’ve never had a shot, have you?” he asked.
“Don’t need them,” she said.
“I don’t suppose you are going to tell me why?”
“It’s not important. What is important is that we make all of the preparations for our trip.”
“Okay. What else do I need to do?”
“Get a passport.”
“I don’t remember Oswald asking for a passport when he sent me to Africa.”
“Jacob, this isn’t like climbing on an airplane. It isn’t a tested form of transportation for humans. If something happens to me, or we find ourselves in a place with no trees, you have to have a way to get back into the country.”
“As luck would have it, I already have a passport. My mom always said it was important, just in case. What else?”
“We will have to stay overnight.”
“Huh? Why?”
“We need the medicine woman to dream. There is a ceremony that has to be performed. This can only happen at night. The Achuar people are a culture steeped in tradition.”
“So, what do I tell the Laudners?”
“I will tell John you are helping me do some research on a new species of plant and the procedure needs to be performed over twenty-four hours. I think he will allow you to stay. I can be very persuasive.” She lowered her chin and looked at him through her lashes.
Jacob’s heart skipped a beat and he internally slapped himself.
He thought about the ruse. It was a good story but not true. Over the last couple of weeks he’d gotten to know his Uncle John and lying to him suddenly felt wrong. He knew he couldn’t tell him the truth but he wished he didn’t have to lie. He wouldn’t have had a problem lying to Aunt Carolyn or Katrina. They still treated him like an unwanted pet.
“I’m glad you are asking. I don’t think I can lie to him.”
“You are the loyal sort aren’t you? Well, whatever works. I will ask him soon so that we don’t have any problems on the tenth. I don’t want John to come looking for you. That could be a disaster.”
“Okay. Shots, passport, permission for overnight,” he recited. “Anything else?”
“No. Just dress appropriately for the jungle,” she said.
Jacob turned back to his work but soon the weight of
her stare became distracting. “Is there something else?” he asked.
She ran her nails through Gideon’s bushy red hair. “It’s time for your first lesson.”
Jacob rolled his eyes. That was the deal: a trip to see the medicine woman in exchange for going along with this delusion that he was a Soulkeeper. “What do I need to do?”
“Let’s worry about what you need to know first, then we’ll move on to do.” She began to pace up and down the row between the flat beds. “There are people all over the world that work for good, ordinary people that do extraordinary things in the name of God. But there are also people like you. You and the others of your kind are not normal people. Your bodies are different because your blood is different. Your parents gave you abilities beyond the average human.” Dr. Silva was digging through a pile of gardening supplies. She pulled out a large bowl-shaped liner, the kind she used in the planters at the front of the house.
“There are three types of gifts that Soulkeepers possess. There are Helpers, like me, who use their power to help others. This could mean anything from gathering weapons to helping someone learn about their gifts. For instance, training you. Every Helper has a specialty, and as you may have guessed, mine is horticulture.”
“Yeah, horticulture on steroids,” he quipped.
She handed him the bowl and walked to the side of the house. “Other gifted ones are called Horsemen. They are warriors. They fight evil by physical force, when all other interventions have failed. They are soldiers for God. King David, from history, was a Horseman. So was Moses.” Pausing, she took a long look at Jacob, giving him the distinct impression she was sizing him up. “And then there are Healers. Healers are very rare. I’ve only ever met one personally—the medicine woman. They are the ones that can tell good from evil.”
Jacob laughed. “Since when did it become a gift to tell good from evil?”
“Since the devil became the lord of illusions. It’s very easy to do evil deeds when you are trying to do good.”
“Hmm.” He leaned against the garden bench and crossed his arms over his chest.