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Don't Rhine on My Parade

Page 9

by Erin Evans


  Chapter Seven

  In retrospect, a crowded coffee shop is probably not the best place for a family intervention. Okay, definitely not the place. I should have remained calm, rational, and understanding. And, in my defense, as I crossed the room as quickly as possible, that was exactly what I intended to do.

  “Hi Sarah, how are you doing?” was what I meant to say.

  “What do you think you are doing?” was what I actually screamed. Maybe it wasn’t a scream, but it was loud enough to turn every head in the place.

  Mark appeared at my shoulder. “Honey,” he said warningly. “Hi, Sarah.” He assessed the situation and knew I would not be leaving this alone. “Mind if we sit down?” He pulled out a chair and forced me down into it, before pulling up one for himself.

  “Piper. Mark.” Sarah was clipping her words short.

  “What do you think you are doing?” I hissed.

  “You already said that,” Sarah said snidely.

  “And you haven’t answered yet.”

  Mark gave an embarrassed grin to the young man who was looking like he wished he was at least a couple hundred miles away.

  “Does Mom know you’re here?” I asked.

  “None of your business, Piper.” Sarah was getting angry.

  “It is too my business. You think I’m going to sit back and let this freak show feel you up in public?” I was already angry.

  “What? So, like, it would be okay if we were in private?” she shot back, “And he’s not a freak show! This is my boyfriend.”

  “Over my dead body you have a boyfriend.”

  “Maybe that can be arranged,” she snarled. “What’s your big problem? Mom knows I’m out and she’s fine.”

  “She’s fine! Does she know what you look like? Do you know what you look like?”

  “No. What do I look like, Piper?” Sarah rolled her eyes sarcastically.

  “You look like a cheap whore hanging out with hedgehog Harry!”

  The pincushion spoke, “Uh, my name’s Michael.”

  “Okay, Metal Michael.” I turned my ire on him, “How old are you? Do you know she’s only sixteen?”

  Sarah jumped to her feet. “Piper! This is totally whack! Go home. I don’t want you here.”

  “And leave you here with the pedophile? I don’t think so!”

  People were starting to quietly get up from their tables and make their way to the door. We were making a huge scene, but I didn’t know how to end it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the manager walking toward us with a frown on his face.

  I was doing everything wrong. I was alienating my sister when I just wanted to protect her. I felt like I was watching a nuclear reactor getting ready to blow and was helpless to stop it. All I wanted to do was calm things down, and my Voice chimed in, happy to help.

  “You,” I commanded the manager, “go back behind the counter and stay there.”

  I turned to the freak while the manager obeyed. “You,” I commanded again, “Get out of here now and stay away from my baby sister.”

  He stumbled to his feet and headed for the exit. I felt sick to my stomach with what I had done, but if it was worth breaking my promise to save my child’s life, surely it was worth it to save my baby sister! I’m not sure what I was saving her from, but nothing about her date looked safe or appropriate to me.

  Sarah’s mouth was opening and closing soundlessly like a goldfish. “You,” I commanded her, “sit down.” She sat. “We are not done here.”

  “We are too done!” Sarah’s eyes were filling with tears. “You think just because people look different from you that they’re bad! You don’t know me. You don’t know my friends. All you ever do is judge me! You don’t understand me and you don’t even try to!”

  “Look here, young lady,” I said with teeth clinched shut. “I do understand you, and I know that you are on the path to trouble. Hanging out with that,” I waved my hand at the door that was swinging shut behind the pincushion, “is a recipe for disaster. He’s at least five years older than you! And I am not going to stand aside and watch you ruin your life!”

  “No, you’re just going to ruin it for me!” she was openly sobbing now.

  Mark passed her a napkin across the table and she wiped angrily at her tears, smearing mascara down her cheeks. “Do you need a ride home?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes,” she sniffed.

  “Sarah,” I started and Mark cut me off.

  “Piper, I think that’s enough. You’re not Sarah’s mother. Leave it alone for now.”

  We each sat in silence for the short ride to my parent’s house. Sarah had her seatbelt unbuckled and was out of the car almost before it stopped. “Sarah . . .” I didn’t know what to say to mend the rift between us.

  “Let’s just forget this ever happened,” she said coldly and slammed the door shut behind her. I watched her march to the front door and slam that behind her as well. The lights were on in the house, so my parents were still up. She would have some explaining to do about her clothing at the very least.

  “Are you okay, Piper?” Mark asked.

  “Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s just talk about something else, okay?”

  “Sure thing, cupcake.” He squeezed my hand. “Thanks for going out with me tonight. It was fun.”

  I snorted. “Most of it, at least.”

  “Hey,” he flashed a grin over at me, “Hanging out with you is always fun.”

  I was quiet for the rest of the ride home, replaying the confrontation in my mind. I wished I had the power to reverse time and do things over again. Thinking before acting has never been my strong point and I knew I had really blown it. It would take weeks, if not months, of concentrated effort to rebuild the relationship I had destroyed with a few hot words.

  Perhaps Sarah would never forgive me. It’s not like we had been close the past few years. Somehow I had gone from friendly big-sister, to nagging, disapproving, mother-figure. We butted heads like crazy and she thought I was out to get her, but I was really worried about her. She didn’t seem to know that the kind of people she was hanging out with were trouble. And all I managed to do was drive her the other way.

  When we got home the kids were thankfully asleep and I noticed various new toys lying around the house. I was in no mood to talk to Carolyn so I clipped on Harvey’s lead and said that he needed to go for a walk before bedtime.

  “Okay, hon. I’m going to talk with my mom for a bit,” Mark said and gave me a quick kiss.

  “Have fun! I’ll be back in a bit.” I edged towards the door.

  “Here. Take your cell phone with you.” Mark tossed it to me. “Take care of her, Harvey.”

  Harvey wagged his tail and woofed happily. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Carolyn wrinkle her nose in disgust. Oh well. All the more reason to get him out of the house.

  We walked slowly around the block in the dark. Harvey stopped every five feet to smell something and had to mark every mailbox with his scent. Don’t ask me how a dog that small can produce so much pee. Must be his magical ability.

  Thinking of abilities brought a fresh wave of shame coursing through my chest. I had been so confident in my ability to resist using the Voice. I had gone years without even being tempted! What was happening to me? It was like a hole had been punched in the levy and now the whole thing was being washed away. I had to stop using the Voice on people! But I didn’t know how to bottle it up again.

  I was two houses away from home when Harvey started to growl. Before the sound even registered on my ears I was hit hard and knocked to the ground. From underneath the weight on top of me, I heard and felt two forceful thuds. Harvey had escaped my fall and was standing over my head, hair bristled, teeth showing, snarling and barking like a mad dog.

  “Are you hit?” the body on top of me asked.

  I tried to get up and was pushed flat. “What?” My brain was still several seconds behind the action. What had just happened?

  “Are you hit
?” the voice said again. Slowly I recognized my next door neighbor.

  “Cecily?” I asked puzzled, my cheek pressed into the sidewalk.

  “Are you hit?” she hissed again.

  “What are you doing?” I struggled again. Man, she must really work out, I couldn’t budge her. “What’s going on?”

  I felt her sigh. “I’m going to take that as a ‘no.’” I felt her weight shift and could tell that she was looking around. “We’ve got to get out of the open. I’m going to chance that they’ve left now that I’m in the picture.”

  I must be in the twilight zone. I had no idea what she was talking about. “What are you doing?” I asked again.

  “Shut up and listen,” she snapped. “We’re going to make a run for my front door. Stay low, keep your head down, and try to stay between me and the house.”

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to get home.”

  She looked directly into my eyes. “You will do as I say, now.”

  “Uh—no. I won’t. I’m going home and you’d better let me up or I’ll scream.”

  She had a look like she wanted to knock her head into a wall, or maybe just my head. “Look Piper. Someone out there just tried to kill you. You’re lucky they like modern weapons. Next time might be a face-to-face. If you want to risk taking that into your home with your husband, children, and mother-in-law, be my guest.” She rolled off me, but I noticed she was still keeping low to the ground and in-between me and the street.

  “Tried to what?”

  I was close enough to hear her grind her teeth. “I don’t have time for this. Grab Harvey, now.”

  I scooped him up afraid she was going to hurt him. The second I did we were both lifted in her arms and carried at a run to Cecily’s house. I was dumped unceremoniously on the front foyer rug and she slammed the door shut behind us. ‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ one part of my brain was saying while the rest was screaming, ‘Run away, run away!’

  “H-how did you do that?” I asked scrambling backwards until my bottom hit the wall. Then I pointed at her grey t-shirt. “You’re bleeding!” This was getting to be too much for me. What in the world was going on?

  She looked down at her shirt where two splotches of red were slowly spreading. “Oh crap.”

  “Oh crap?” I was approaching hysteria. “Tell me right now what is going on, Cecily!”

  She was stripping off her shirt to reveal a grey sports bra and a finely muscled body. I’d seen enough violent movies to recognize the two bullet holes in her otherwise perfect skin.

  “You were shot?” My voice was now at a pitch that only dogs and small children could hear.

  Cecily twisted awkwardly in an attempt to get a look at her back. She poked one of the bullet holes with a finger and winced. “Crap. Crap. Crap. They’re still in there. Piper,” she looked up at me. “I’m going to need your help.”

  “Oooh n-no,” I stuttered. “You need to go to the hospital.” I already had my cell phone in my hand. “I’m calling 911.”

  She had crossed the foyer, taken the phone from me and retreated back to the other side before I could even blink. If I got any more scared I was going to pass out. Harvey, of course, having genius-level dog I.Q., was sitting by my side, panting happily and drooling on the floor. There is something to be said for large attack dogs. Namely the attack part. And the large part. A cuddly stuffed-animal dog is useless for personal protection.

  I tried to tell her to give my phone back but all that came out was gasps and disjointed sounds.

  Cecily rolled her eyes in exasperation, “If you are done panicking and hyperventilating, could you please help me before I stain the carpet?”

  How had she moved so fast? For that matter, how had she picked me up and carried me? I mean, really, it’s not that I’m fat, or even overweight, but to carry me like I was nothing!

  I still wanted answers, but the two holes in Cecily’s torso were pumping out blood at an alarming rate. Everything could wait until she got some help.

  “You really need to go to the ER,” I said in my best reasoning-with-an-insane-person voice.

  “Piper!” Cecily’s pupils were looking huge and dark. “I don’t have time to get to the ER. For your own safety, help me now!” she pleaded.

  It was the quiver in her voice that got me. I couldn’t just stand by and let her bleed to death. I grabbed up her discarded shirt and used it to put pressure on the holes. “What do you want me to do?”

  She sank back on the floor, “There’s a pair on needle-nose pliers in the kitchen drawer by the trash can,” she said. “Go get them.” She slid her hands under mine to continue the pressure.

  I ran to the kitchen, found the pliers and raced back to the front door. “Now what?”

  Cecily removed the shirt and wiped away blood. The bleeding was slowing down; I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “You’re going to have to find the bullets and pull them out,” she said calmly, as if we were discussing the weather.

  “What?”

  “Piper, focus. I need you to do this for me. Quickly.”

  “Okay,” I muttered, “but don’t sue me if you die.”

  She smiled eerily, “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem,” I mimicked snidely under my breath, deciding that getting mad was better than throwing up all over her.

  I really don’t want to think too closely about the next several minutes. I did what needed to be done. I didn’t throw up. And Cecily lived. So we’ll just mark it down in the success column. It was only after I dropped the second mangled piece of metal on the floor that I freaked out.

  “I didn’t sterilize the pliers! I should have had a first aid kit handy! Where’s your hydrogen peroxide?”

  “Piper, Piper. It’s okay,” Cecily laughed. “You’d better watch this. It might help the explanations later.”

  “I need to get you some gauze and—”

  “Just watch.” She wiped the rest of the blood off her skin. The two bullet holes were slowly closing up before my eyes. It looked like some weird time-lapse photography. Within thirty seconds there was a puffy pink scar, and then nothing. Aside from a few blood smears, her skin looked fresh and whole, as if nothing had happened.

  My jaw dropped. “Wha . . . ?”

 

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