by Hood, Holly
Maven dropped to the ground sobbing. Suddenly she remembered something. “Mom!”
Her mother opened her door seconds later.
“He texted me back. I texted him after I showered and got ready for bed and he replied.” She jumped up, grabbing her phone. “It wasn’t more than thirty minutes ago. I’m sure he’s okay.”
Her mother’s eyes were apprehensive. She pushed her hair from her eyes giving her an understanding smile. “I’m sure. Get some rest. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“Isn’t there something I can do?” She felt helpless.
“Stay by your phone. Or try calling him.”
Escape
Jake couldn’t hear over Arnold’s hysterical crying. Arnold was crying like a child, sobbing, on his knees staring at the mess Jake had made. Completely unable to function enough to even wipe the snot from his nose, he just cried.
Jake tossed the concrete brick. It clunked against the asphalt and rolled into the brush. Jake blinked, wiggled his aching fingers and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He was in his own world, detached from reality as he stared at Henri.
“You killed him,” Arnold sobbed, shaking Henri. “Man…we’re so dead, Jake.”
Jake kicked the block in aggravation. “He’s not dead. I barely hit him.”
Arnold shook his head incredulously. “You hit him over the head with a concrete brick!”
“Just let me think. Shut your mouth, Arnold.” Jake pulled at his hair, his hands trembling with the awareness of what he had done. His drunken stupor was wearing off. He looked over his shoulder paranoid. “Help me lift him.”
Arnold scoffed. “For what?”
“Do you want to go to prison, Arnold?” He slipped his arms under Henri’s armpits. Arnold reluctantly took Henri by the ankles. They hurried across the asphalt of the yogurt hut, carrying Henri into the brush. Jake dropped him like a piece of garbage. Arnold carefully sat the rest of him down, he was still a person.
“He’s still breathing,” Jake mumbled. He pushed into Henri’s unresponsive body with his foot sending him down the hill. Henri’s body rolled three times before it ended up wedged between some stones and an old log covered in moss.
Arnold scratched his head, nervously watching his old friend treat Henri Levitt as if he wasn’t important enough to require help. Jake elbowed him. “Help me clean up the beer cans so we can get out of here.”
Arnold’s jaw dropped. “What about Henri, Jake? You just going to leave him here? What if he dies?”
Jake rolled his eyes. “We’ll phone it in to the fire station or something. Now move it.” Jake gathered the cans and the cooler, his feet crunching over the shards of glass as the two of them quickly cleaned up.
“What if they’re too late, Jake?”
“Arnold! Pull it together. I won’t be the only one in deep shit if they catch us here. Now come on!” Jake burst into a sprint leaving Arnold saddled with the cooler filled with garbage, Arnold quickly followed.
***
Flynn clutched the steering wheel of his truck backing out of the driveway with his mother and his uncle. As soon as the neighbor called them about the broken windows at the Yogurt Hut his mother demanded they go right then and there. There was still no word from Henri, his phone was only going to voicemail now.
And Flynn couldn’t shake the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked at his mom, pinned between him and his uncle Doug. She chewed her thumbnail, nervously watching the road. The car was silent. The only sound was the low rumble of the road beneath them. Flynn didn’t know what to say.
As soon as Flynn pulled into the parking lot of the yogurt hut his mother’s breath hitched sending the hairs on the back of his neck on end and his stomach into a horrible wave of sickness. He forced himself to look at the sheriff’s vehicle. He told himself it was just a couple of vandals nothing more.
“Move it!” His mother exclaimed, shoving into Doug until she all but climbed over his body to get out of the truck.
The sheriff was old. Probably should have retired years before, but in Portwood there was no need for actual protection—nobody ever did anything.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hunt,” Sheriff Cole said. He hitched his pants up, gesturing toward the windows. “Seems to be nothing more than vandals to me.”
Flynn examined the windows. He looked back at his mother and the Sherriff. Doug standing next to his truck smoking a cigarette rather than caring about the shape of their business—or his son for that matter, Flynn’s anger started to grow, he took a deep breath wanting to scream at Doug, but it wasn’t the time. “What did you say busted these windows, Sherriff Cole?”
Sherriff Cole scratched his head. He glanced at the ground and then shuffled forward. “You know, I hadn’t even thought about it. I figured some of them loose bricks or something.”
Flynn leaned over, peering into the window. “Momma hand me your keys.”
“Flynn what is it now?” She huffed, highly agitated and emotional. She just wanted to know what was happening with Henri.
Flynn opened the door, hitting the lights. There in all its glory sat Henri’s phone in two pieces and a can of beer. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?” His mother asked. “What, Flynn?” She forced herself into the small confines of the yogurt hut. Flynn looked at his mother, his expression grim. She clutched her chest, all the color draining from her face.
Flynn stood up, the phone in his grip.
Janet shook her head in disbelief. She slapped Flynn across the face, shaking the sting away. “He wasn’t supposed to leave the house.” She started to cry.
***
Several attempts at calling Henri and probably twenty texts offered her no answers. He wasn’t answering. After breaking down in front of her entire family Maven fell asleep on the couch in the den. Her mother had covered her with a blanket, and her father had even checked on her several times. She had cried herself to sleep and there wasn’t anything he could do to make her feel better.
Maven’s sleep was restless until she finally lost touch with reality and was swept into a dream. There he was. Henri. Staring at her, she sat up, tilting her head and taking him in. He was smiling at her.
“You’re dreaming of me,” he said.
“You scared us.” She told him. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
He grinned. “Here I am.”
“I know.” She reached out to touch him, but no matter how far she reached she never was able to. She stared, confused, but he wasn’t. He hadn’t even noticed.
“Close your eyes,” Henri said. But Maven shook her head, refusing to do such a thing. He stepped forward. “Close your eyes, Maven.”
Suddenly her eyes closed.
“Bye.” His words were sharp, almost too much to handle.
Maven jumped, waking up. The room was filled with darkness. She sat up, pushing her hair from her eyes. She sighed. “It was a dream.” It was a dream, but a really odd one. It didn’t feel like any normal dream she ever had.
She dialed Henri’s phone again, but was greeted with his voicemail. She left the same message. “Henri, I have to know your okay. Please, please call me.” She wiped her eyes, burying her head into the couch pillow.
***
Flynn paced across the asphalt of the yogurt hut. His entire family now all there with him trying to make sense of what it meant to have Henri’s phone, but no Henri. Flynn paced back and forth methodically, trying to come up with anything.
His dad patted his back. “Mrs. Wilder says Maven and him weren’t fighting. So, we’re still trying to figure out why the busted windows.” He stared off. “I don’t know what else to do. We called damn near everyone we know. The Sherriff says no phone calls have come in. Where could he be?”
Flynn looked around at the flock of onlookers, families, friends, business owners all offering nothing more than their noses in their business, as well as their apologies for the busted windows. Flynn shook his head,
looking at the asphalt. He dropped down staring closer at the black tar. Unless he was seeing things he swore there was blood on a few shards of glass. His body tensed up, he followed the small specks across the ground on his hands and knees. Not caring if he cut himself to hell.
“Flynn?” His father called from behind him, he followed Flynn’s descent toward the brush. Suddenly Flynn jumped up. He let out a shocked scream.
“I found him!” That was enough to get everyone moving. Why hadn’t the Sherriff thought to look there Flynn asked himself as he rushed down the hill.
“Don’t move him.” His father warned. He carefully made it down the hill, the rest of their family at the top gasping and crying for Henri to be okay.
“Call for an ambulance, Doug.” His father shouted up to the family. He kneeled down to check to see if Henri was breathing.
Flynn looked away. He knew he was supposed to be strong, but he couldn’t forgive himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the tears. “Is he breathing?”
Is this the way?
Maven wrung her hands together nervously as she watched her mother rush back and forth across the kitchen gathering her things. She knew all the signs of an emergency. And this was the way her mother acted when there was an emergency.
“What’s going on?” She sniffled.
Maggie climbed the stool taking a seat, she wore her pajamas still and was a bit lethargic, but she knew Maven was upset as soon as she looked at her. She had stayed locked in her room as soon as she heard the news about Henri’s unknown whereabouts. She already knew what it felt like to deal with Maven’s sadness when it came to the things she cared about in life, so she chose to stay away.
Their mother snatched her keys from the table. She shot a quick glance in Maven’s direction. Maggie grabbed the box of frosted flakes Nick had left out and dumped them in a bowl. She watched cautiously.
“Maven I can’t… I can’t sweetheart,” Their mother said, her eyes heavy and filling with tears.
“I just want to know that he is alright. That’s not against protocol, Mom.” Maven wiped at her eyes. “Please.”
“They found him. His father said they found him. Call Flynn or Janet, Maven. I got to go.” She hurried across the kitchen planting a kiss a top Maven’s head, they hugged, and then she was gone, leaving Maven despondent.
“Maybe you should go up there.” Maggie volunteered.
Maven looked at Maggie. “What if he is dying?”
“He is dying, he has been dying. Maybe you need to see him.” Maggie looked away, poking at her frosted flakes, her messy hair shielding her eyes from her sister. “There was always going to be a day where Henri …died, it could help you get over it.”
Maven cringed. “What do you know, Maggie?” She snapped.
“I didn’t say I know anything.” She jumped down from the stool, slamming her bowl into the sink and walked out of the room.
***
Flynn and his uncle, April and Sandra and the rest of his family all waited in the family waiting room. Never had he seen so many people pace at one time. He wasn’t able to pace, he was plastered to the wall, his heart crashing against his insides to the point he was hurting. He did everything he could not to think about it, because when he did his airway ceased and he felt his legs turning to rubber.
He couldn’t get Henri’s image out of his mind. He wasn’t resting at the bottom of the hill because of his heart, someone had put him there. Someone had purposely hurt him. And he feared he knew who that someone was. Jake Summit.
The speakers echoed the name of some doctor. The television flashed and sent the morning news into the waiting room. Flynn closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. His mother’s sobbing was becoming too much.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hello?”
“Flynn? This is Maven. I got your number from my brother Nick,” Maven said hesitantly, she wasn’t sure if she should be calling at all.
“Maven hey,” Flynn said welcoming the diversion. “I’m surprised you’re not down here.”
“I…I wasn’t sure.”
“Just giving you a hard time, but of course your allowed here.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Henri would be thrilled.”
There was a silence and finally Maven spoke. “He’s okay?”
Flynn’s eyes shifted. “He’s here at the hospital. We are waiting on his doctor to let us know the damage.”
Flynn’s manner of speaking terrified Maven he could sense it. “I could call you back and let you know.”
“That would be good, Flynn, thank you. Maybe afterwards if things are okay I could come down.” She was so nervous she hung up on him without a goodbye. He programmed her phone number into his phone to make sure he could get a hold of her once they heard any news about Henri.
Just then the doctor came walking into the room. All eyes were on him and all pacing slowed or died down altogether.
***
Jake reached into the mailbox pulling out some bills and a sports illustrated magazine. He looked over his shoulder at Arnold approaching.
“Jake. I need to talk to you.”
Jake sighed, tossing the mail on the porch steps. He took a seat, resting his arms against the basketball shorts he was wearing. “What’s up, Arnold?” His voice coming across a bit bored.
“You know my sister Ray-Ann works as a candy striper at the hospital right?” Arnold fidgeted with the sleeve of his gray hoodie. He sat down beside Jake. “She said Henri was brought into the hospital this morning.”
Jake offered no words. So Arnold continued. “You think he will say anything?”
Jake shifted apprehensively “I don’t know.” A sudden flow of anxiety coupled with paranoia overwhelmed him. He hadn’t reported the incident like he promised Arnold he would. He hoped for the worst to happen to Henri before they even found him. He knew it was a sick thing to hope for, but he was left with no alternative.
Arnold shook his bangs from his eyes, he looked at Jake. “This isn’t good for you.”
“What do you mean me, Arnold?” Jake laughed it off. “It was a drunken mistake. I barely hit him.”
“I mean you. If Henri remembers what happened he knows I was trying to help him. You’re in deep shit. Maybe it’s time for you to realize that.”
Jake scoffed.
“You might want to tell someone what you did.” Arnold stood up. “Because the way I see it, even if nobody ever knows what you did, Jake, his family will.”
Jake picked the mail up from the stairs. “You think I’m afraid of Flynn?”
Arnold shrugged. Flynn was older then he was so he didn’t know a whole lot about him, but he was passionate when it came to his family he knew that much. “I got to go.”
***
Flynn interlocked his fingers. Leaning forward in the chair he was offered. They wanted to talk to the entire family. His knee jerked relentlessly as he stared at the doctor.
“Right now things don’t look as severe as we initially thought. Henri has a small amount of bleeding on the brain, nothing horrendous, some scrapes and contusions.” The foreign gray haired doctor rattled. He averted his gaze from one to the next never making it personal. “The heart…it’s doing what we expect it to be doing for someone in his stage of failure.” Flynn’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly the man’s language was so foreign he barely made sense. He wasn’t about to admit it wasn’t his language at all that it was his emotions getting the best of him.
“Can you speak English? Damnit, don’t they have any American doctors around here?” Flynn jumped up. The doctor glanced at him and away, he cleared his throat.
“The body is weak. His heart, the pacemaker, it’s doing the best it can. But soon we are going to have to connect Henri to a device that keeps his heart pushing along until we can do something else.”
His mother raised an eyebrow. “But the surgery…it’s on Monday.”
The doctor sanded his hands together, an uptight expression flooding his feat
ures. “The body is weak…the injury to the head, the cuts and scrapes have started an infection. We have to deal with the immune system before we can offer him that option. Right now Henri is not an ideal candidate for treatment.”
Flynn groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead, out of breath. His mother dropped her head. All the hope seemed to sail right out of the room.
“Henri is awake. One visitor at a time.” The doctor stood, he shook Flynn’s fathers hand and Doug’s and quickly exited.