The Keystone: Finding Home

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The Keystone: Finding Home Page 6

by Seren Goode


  Shim nodded to me. I felt a little green as I pulled myself out the window. Now would not be a good time to mention my fear of heights. I bit my lip and tried not to look down.

  Yeah, okay, I can do this, I gave myself a pep talk. Here we go. I realized I hadn’t moved. The grated metal was still biting into my legs as I kneeled on the fire escape platform.

  Shim pulled himself out of the window, closing it behind him. He looked at me, and when I tried to smile, his face grew concerned. He reached up and tugged a strand of my green hair forward, studying it, then tucked it behind my ear. He gave a crooked grin and pointed up.

  I turned back to the ladder and stretched out a hand, grasping the first rung and pulled myself up, clinging to the metal crosspiece. One rung at a time. I could do this. I unwrapped my arms, pulled myself up, held tight through the tremors and then repeated the action. Every movement brought a swirl of disorientation, and I felt like I was swinging wildly.

  “Shhhh,” Shim whispered below me.

  I didn’t even realize I was whispering to myself a sing-song chant. “Just keep climbing, just keep climbing.”

  It felt like hours before I could finally see the top. My heart beat wildly. Jaxon reached out, but he was too far away. I unwrapped my arms and slowly pulled myself up another rung, my arms aching as they clenched the rung tight through my full body shudder. Goosebumps had broken out on my skin, and sweat was slicking my hands, making the ladder slippery when I finally felt Jaxon’s fingers grip my forearm, helping me scale the rough concrete of the ledge.

  Hands on my knees, I tried to catch my breath while my heart pounded its way out of my chest. Somehow, over the corresponding throbbing in my head, I heard Shim behind me and realized I needed to help him. I rose and turned to reach for his arm, and my shaking hand collided with the skateboard on Jaxon’s back.

  The board slid free, ringing loudly as it hit the metal ladder, followed by a sound like sandpaper rubbing together as the last two wheels slide from the strap and the board dropped. Shim reached out lightning fast, catching the board with one hand before it could fall to the ground.

  We froze. Not even breathing.

  I listened. It was quiet below.

  I let out a sigh of relief as Shim climbed up and over the edge and joined us.

  Then there was a shout from the street.

  We pushed off from the edge with a new sense of urgency and raced across the gravel rooftop to where the twins were climbing a ladder up to the next roof.

  At the ladder, Jaxon shoved his board between the backpack and his back again, and Shim secured it by wrapping and tying one of the loose straps around a wheel. Resenting the help, Jaxon smacked his hand away from his board before he scaled the ladder. Shim reared back but didn’t look surprised. Ignoring the rebuff, he pulled me forward and pushed me up behind Jaxon. This ladder was easier as it didn’t drop to the ground below.

  We landed in a rooftop garden with lounge chairs and a table. After dodging the furniture, we screeched to a halt at the edge of the roof. There was a gap of several feet separating the buildings, and the next roof was a foot lower than the one we were on. Skylar and Breeze stood at the edge, contemplating their options.

  Shim did a quick U-turn back to the wooden patio table, picking up one end and dragging it across the roof. Jaxon gave a short laugh and grabbed the other end. The table fit like a ramp between the two buildings. Before anyone could blink, Jaxon jumped up and did a standing slide down the tabletop, across the expanse, to the other building.

  My heart stopped.

  “You kamikaze moron,” Shim hissed in an exaggerated whisper. “Wait for us to help you next time.” Jaxon flipped a finger at him but stood at the edge of the table to help the twins.

  Breeze and Skylar got up on the edge of the table next. They held hands, and Skylar reached out to Jaxon while Shim held on to the waistband of Breeze’s jeans. They slid slowly across the dark void on the improvised ramp. Jaxon pulled them down safely on the other side.

  Shim jumped up on the table next. With one foot on the flat building ledge and the other on the sloping table, he reached down to me and stopped at what must have been a look of utter terror on my face. I’m sure my eyes were screaming, This is crazy.

  And it was. Normal people didn’t parkour across rooftops. They didn’t run from unknown kidnappers. They played online games, talked on the phone incessantly, and watched too much Netflix. But even before this, I had never felt normal. I had always hated the feeling of being out of sync with the rest of the world. As I felt my blood pump like I was swimming the best race of my life, I decided from now on I was going to be the one to make up the rules for what was normal.

  I reached up and grabbed Shim’s hand, pulling myself to the top of the ledge. I looked down at our joined hands, but before I could appreciate the zing of awareness that came with the feel of his warm skin, I looked over the edge of the roof. My pep talk faded quickly as I tried not to follow my eyes.

  Shim tapped a finger under my chin. “Don’t look down.” He flipped me a lopsided smile. “And don’t fall down,” he whispered in my ear.

  “You are messed up,” I replied, reaching across for Jaxon’s hand.

  “That has already been proven.”

  My feet lost traction, and I slipped across the slick surface of the table. My heart stopped, and I opened my mouth in a silent scream. Just as I reached the end, Jaxon halted my slide. Panting softly, I turned back for Shim. He pushed himself off the roof ledge and slid across. As he crashed into me, my feet were snatched out from under me, and we collided into Jaxon, the three of us landing in a heap on the roof.

  Thunk. Wham.

  “Ow.” Jaxon pulled himself out from the bottom of the pile.

  “Watch it,” Shim growled as Jaxon stomped on his leg getting up.

  “Stop playing around and hurry up,” Breeze said. She and Skylar had scouted out the roof and were now making their way over the ledge to a hidden ladder. They dropped down two stories to the roof of a red brick building.

  Then we discovered Jonas was wrong.

  We raced for the access door, and Jaxon grabbed the handle and yanked on it. It was locked. The building was being renovated—the roof was littered with construction material and supplies—but we couldn’t get down to the street from here. The next rooftop was at least twenty feet away.

  We were trapped.

  Jaxon jerked on the knob, growling and kicking the door in frustration. The twins raced up behind him and beat on the door. Shim attacked the hinges, trying to see if he could pry them off. The steel door didn’t budge.

  Frustration welled up. How could we have come this far and now be stuck? There had to be another way. I walked around the edge of the roof, looking for a way down. The back of the building had the broken remains of a fire escape ladder, ending abruptly a foot below the ledge. It looked like it had been removed for construction.

  A canary yellow construction chute yawned open where the brackets of the fire escape had been. I studied the chute.

  “Hey, guys,” I said. “What about this?” The others stopped working on the door and came over to where I stood. Shim’s mouth gaped open.

  Jaxon looked up at me, his eyes wide. “Either you’ve got guts…or you are one fry short of a Happy Meal.” His voice held a note of astonishment and admiration. The commendation was a little worrying coming from him.

  “Well, we have two options: wait here until they catch us”—I indicated the edge of the roof—“or use the chute.”

  “You sure?” Shim’s eyes traced the yellow vinyl snake mounted on the side of the building that ran all the way down to the dumpster below. Then he looked back at me. He looked worried after his quick risk assessment.

  My resolve wavered. The others probably thought I wasn’t the kind of girl who took risks. They would be right. I felt ill at the idea of
jumping into that chute, and I hadn’t been able to look at the dumpster at the base of the building without the dizziness almost pitching me over the side.

  Why was I doing this, besides the fear of being captured? Was I afraid the others would have no reason to keep me around if I didn’t?

  “I’ll go first.” Did I say that out loud? I did. Oh, Stars. But I couldn’t ask the others to do it if I couldn’t. I gulped. Taking a jerky breath, I moved to swing a leg over the edge of the ledge.

  Shim stopped me. “I’ll go first. Grace, you next, then Breeze and Skylar. Jaxon, you go last.” Shim climbed onto the edge.

  “Wait,” said Jaxon, concern in his eyes as he looked at his brother. I wondered if they were going to have a tender brotherly moment together.

  “Take my board. I can’t carry it and the bag. And don’t break it or I’ll have to kill you.” He pulled the skateboard off his back and handed it to Shim.

  “Yeah, I love you too, man,” Shim said, giving his brother a playful push back as he launched himself into the chute with a hushed battle cry.

  This was a bad idea.

  I cringed at the thumps and flailing sounds Shim made as he dropped like a rock to the bottom. Breeze and Skylar held onto the waistband of my pants as I leaned over the edge and into the chute. “Shim?” My voice came out in a nervous squeak. “Shim!” I shouted down.

  Silence.

  I tried again. “You okay?”

  I heard a faint “Oookaaay.”

  It was enough. I stood up, and before I lost my nerve, I quickly swung a leg over the ledge. The others steadied me as I scooted to the edge and put my feet into the chute. Jaxon slipped the strap of my messenger bag off over my head, and I clutched the bag to my stomach. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath and pushed off with an involuntary “whoop” as the air escaped from my lungs.

  Instead of the smooth slide like a ride at an amusement park, I banged against the walls, my toes and elbows catching on the edges of each section, my exposed skin scraping on the yellow vinyl walls and leaving burns.

  The bump-drop, bump-drop slowed at the end. Then I was dumped out with a cloud of dust and a crack into a dumpster. I landed on a stack of drywall that gave way, breaking my fall.

  “Ohhh,” I groaned, rolling onto my side. Pain. Pain! If I was lucky enough to not have broken anything, I was going to have a thousand bruises from this. As the numbness receded, I started to check parts of my body. Feet, legs, ribs, arms, fingers, neck. Nothing broken, but everything hurt.

  A figure covered in fine white dust reached down and grabbed my hand. It was a ghostly version of Shim with chunks of chalky debris littering his hair. He pulled on my hand and dragged me out of the exit path for the chute.

  Leaning against the wall of the dumpster, I coughed, spitting the bitter dust from my mouth. I heard a sound like a parachute flapping in the breeze and realized it was someone coming down the chute. Then there was a thump and a groan. I looked over, and two round eyes blinked back at me. Breeze was lying, stunned, in a pile of sheetrock. Shim pulled her out of the way, and a second later, Skylar landed with a crunch. The flapping started again, sounding like a thousand birds about to take flight, but this time, it was followed by a ripping sound. Shim quickly reached for Skylar and pulled him free of the path. I looked up in alarm and could see the top of the chute pulling away from the side of the building.

  “Watch out,” someone shouted. With nowhere to go, we crouched by the inside wall of the dumpster. As the final thump hit the sheetrock, Shim dove over his brother, protecting him the best he could from the falling debris. When the sky stopped raining rubble, the brothers were buried under a mound of yellow vinyl and metal.

  Cursing, we scrabbled through the heavy vinyl, pulling the long strips off the brothers. Finally, we cleared enough debris that I could wrap a hand around Shim’s arm and pull him shakily to his feet while Breeze and Skylar pulled Jaxon out of the pile.

  Jaxon stood with his hands on his knees, spitting out bits of dust and trying to catch his breath. When he could, he turned to me with a look of awe. “You are one Mad Hatter.”

  The others gave a weak laugh, and the corners of my mouth turned up tentatively. Shim was leaning shakily against the wall, his face apprehensive as he studied me. He didn’t return my smile.

  Chapter 7

  Finding Waters

  After leaving the alley by the dumpster, we merged into the foot traffic around Union Square and headed north. Our appearance was drawing stares, and passing by a shop window, I saw my reflection and knew why. I looked like I had escaped from a bakery explosion. We were fortunate no one had come running when the chute fell.

  Breeze and Skylar were picking debris off each other like monkeys grooming. I leaned over and shook my hair, flecks of white falling like dandruff. Jaxon delighted in slapping Shim hard on the pretense of getting the dust off his clothes. Shim pulled off his shirt and shook it out.

  What the… He was lean and muscled, but what had grabbed my attention was his torso striped with scrapes, the side of his ribs a mass of fading black and yellow bruises.

  My gasp must have been audible. Shim swung toward me, his eyes narrowed, and with a dark look, he pulled his shirt back on. Our eyes locked in a silent stare. That’s why he was flinching when he helped me walk yesterday. I thought it was from having to touch me, but the pain of me leaning against him must have been terrible, and he’d never said anything.

  Breeze broke the tension when she wedged between us. “Wet wipe?” She pulled the packet from her bag and offered them around. The first couple swipes smeared the dust around, but eventually, we were able to wipe most of our faces clean. Well, cleaner.

  Even tidied up, we were conspicuous walking the streets. Turning a corner, we caught sight of a group of older students heading through a gateway into Chinatown. We quickly caught up to them and merged into the back of the pack. I put the image of the marks on Shim’s tan skin behind me and assessed our situation.

  Despite the near miss at Jonas’ apartment and jumping off the building, everyone was surprisingly optimistic. Finding the lead on Waters and knowing we were just a few hours from getting some answers so we could find our parents and go home had put everyone in a good mood.

  Was it just yesterday we had raced off? Escaping twice from kidnappers, racing through malls, sleeping in stranger’s shops, jumping across rooftops? I hardly recognized myself.

  Skylar and Breeze led the way, swinging their hands together and playfully skipping behind the students. Plunking down his board, Jaxon rolled along in what I was starting to recognize as a happy version of his sullen mood. In the back, I reached forward and pulled a piece of painter’s tape off Shim’s back. He startled, then saw the tape and shrugged. I didn’t get him. Most of the time, he was annoyed at me, and other times, he stared with such intensity, it made me nervous. And what was up with all those bruises he hadn’t wanted me to see?

  ∞

  The sun was starting to set when I finally collapsed on a bench at Fisherman’s Wharf. We had been at it for hours, under the hot sun, pounding the two-mile stretch of concrete between the large tourist areas anchoring each end of the Embarcadero. This is where the article said Waters spent his time, but that two years ago. He might not even live in the city anymore.

  But we had kept at it. We had walked up and down the Embarcadero at least a half-dozen times.

  We questioned people in the green parks under enormous art sculptures, the glistening water of the bay in the background.

  We talked to people strolling along the sidewalk.

  We stopped every homeless person and every street performer we passed and asked if they knew someone named Waters.

  At first, we had been subtle, trying to start up conversations. By the third trip down the Embarcadero, people started to avoid us. Skylar and Breeze had been shouting Water’s name at people
as they passed them, and Jaxon, who had been riding his skateboard all afternoon, wasn’t talking anymore and had even started ramming into people in his way. I was surprised we hadn’t been arrested. This was not the type of attention we needed to be drawing to ourselves.

  “I’m so hungry I could eat ABC gum.” Breeze declared.

  “That’s disgusting, but, yeah, I want food now.” Jaxon demanded.

  Shim sighed, and motioned for them to follow them to follow him into the Sourdough bakery.

  I couldn’t work up the energy to join them and sank down on a bench.

  “Maybe Waters doesn’t want to be found.” I muttered, knowing I was only talking to myself. Maybe I was losing my mind. I groaned and slipped lower in the seat.

  “And what would you do if you found him?” The hair on my arms rose at the whispered drawl. I shivered and glanced around. The evening crowd of tourists was still milling about. Street entertainers had set up a traveling tightrope several yards behind the bench but too far away for the voice to have come from them. Another group, across the street, was blaring hip-hop music and spray-painting team logos and fantasy landscapes on metal license plates for tourists. The music competed with the plastic bucket drums being rhythmically beaten farther down the street.

  The only thing close to me was the bronze sculpture of a businessman I was sharing the bench with. I leaned close, squinting as I studied the sculpture’s nose. It twitched.

  “Holy Sources, you are real.” I catapulted off the bench in surprise. Then I realized what he had said and sat back down. Grasping the seat between us, I leaned in close and looked at the face.

  “You’re kinda making it obvious.” The voice was deep, thick with an accent I didn’t recognize and cracking with age and humor. His lips barely moved. As I looked closer, I could see the bronze face had pores. What I thought was metal was skin covered with thick coats of metalic makeup.

  Oh, he was good.

  From the top of the fedora on his head down to a bronze book in his lap, every inch was covered in thick paint hardened to a shiny coat. Except for the faintest glimmer of white in the eyes and the whispered voice, there was no difference between him and the other sculptures scattered around the park. Except, he was real and may have the information we needed.

 

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