COLE STOPPED ONLY FOR A MOMENT, then walked off the pathway and into the field. One step after another, the school ruins drew closer. He didn’t feel weak. His knees felt stable, his hands steady—heartbeat, too. No threat of fainting, no profuse sweating. His palms were dry. Maybe he had come this far in a short time. After all, so much had happened. The pill bottle holding his last two pills was in his pocket, but Cole wasn’t tapping at it, wasn’t endlessly deciding whether to take one or not. He wasn’t thinking about it much. Maybe it was the tobacco bundle, held firmly in his left hand. Maybe he was drawing strength from it—from a medicine that he had neglected for far too long, medicine from the ancestors he was about to offer it to, from the Creator he was about to pray to.
He walked up the concrete steps, stopped at where the doors used to be. They were mostly gone now, burned into nothing. All that remained were the handles, resting on the ground by Cole’s feet. He crouched down and picked one of them up. He thought about scars, and what Elder Mariah had told him. The ones on his palms, the memories they held, were important in their own right. But the scars were hard, and the memories were always conflicted. The one on his chest meant something else, and he hoped he could keep it. He wasn’t sure how this particular gift worked, or if because he’d healed so fast, the scar would fade away. But it would remind him of something… good. He stopped the killer. No more people were going to die. What’s more, Eva was talking to him now. Nicely. Maybe people would stop talking about him, too, in the way they had. Thanks to Choch, Cole didn’t even have to address the bent prison bars. Choch fixed them, good as new.
Cole put the handle down, and opened the tobacco tie. He spread the tobacco across the steps, and closed his eyes. “Creator. I…I don’t really know how to do this anymore. It’s like I’m learning how, all over again. It’s weird, too, knowing that you’re actually listening. I guess I was never really sure. After the fire, I thought you weren’t there at all. I don’t know what to say. I guess I just want you to keep them safe. I want you to welcome Ashley and Alex and Maggie, everybody who got sick and didn’t make it, home. Just, you know, don’t let Choch keep them waiting, or whatever. And I want you to protect everybody else too. Protect Brady. Eva.” Cole opened his eyes. He placed the red cloth down, moved the handle over it to hold it there. “That’s it. That’s all I have to say. Ekosani. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Uhhhh, to be fair, He didn’t actually bring you here. I did.”
Cole shook his head and let out a breath. He didn’t get up. “How long have you been standing there for?”
“It’s just that, I’m not one to complain, but don’t you think little old me deserves some thanks? I mean, what did He do, anyway? He’s probably binge-watching American Gods or something.”
“Fine. Thank you for fixing the prison bars, and for making everybody think they’d just forgot to lock me in.”
“Oh, and don’t forget—”
“Don’t push it.” Cole got up now. He got to his feet, turned around, and faced the spirit being. “You look the worst I’ve ever seen you.”
Gone were the bright suit, dress shoes, and top hat. He wasn’t wearing his outfit from the diner, either. No, today he was wearing a Nickelback t-shirt, a backwards baseball hat, black Converse sneakers, and blue jeans that hung below his ass. To top off the outfit, he had a backpack slung over his shoulders.
Choch plopped down on the steps facing Blackwood Forest. He dropped the backpack, which landed heavily on the ground. He patted the concrete to his side, and Cole begrudgingly sat down beside him. The sky was pretty in the early evening, painted in autumn hues. Cole thought he could feel the warmth from it, as though Jayne were sitting at his side. He almost felt like he could tolerate Choch.
“Dude,” Choch said, “my outfit is on fleek, bruh.”
“Fleek? Bruh?”
Choch took a deep, exaggerated breath, and rolled his eyes slowly, making sure that Cole saw it. “I am being,” he said dramatically, “Collo—”
“Kids don’t talk like that. Ever.”
“What, really? They don’t?”
“No, they talk like regular human beings. This isn’t a teenage drama on the CW,” Cole said.
“Well, it’s not quite like that, anyway,” Choch grumbled, looking off somewhere. Cole snapped his fingers to draw Choch’s attention.
“Also, you look like a forty-year-old man talking like a teenager on a CW teenage drama,” Cole added.
Choch leaned back and looked Cole over carefully, paying special attention to Cole’s chest.
“So, how are you?”
“Fine,” Cole said. “Really good, actually. I feel like Wolverine. But generally, yeah, just good.”
“That has to be a nice change of pace, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“You’re less confused than you were before, then?” Choch asked.
“A little bit, yeah,” Cole said. “I can connect most of the dots. I mean, I’d like to know about what happened to the folder…” Choch nodded throughout Cole’s answer, like a psychologist. It looked extremely odd to Cole, watching Choch give all the psychologist vibes while dressed like some weird teenager. “But I’m guessing Jayne’s already, you know,” Cole motioned up to the autumn sky with his finger, even made an odd spaceship-taking-off kind of sound, “up where she’s supposed to be. It’s not a big deal, really.”
“Actually, I just can’t seem to tear her away from her friends over there at the cemetery,” Choch said. “She’s a stubborn one, her. I mean, cute as a button, but you can just imagine trying to get her to eat her Brussels sprouts, am-I-right?”
“Why are you even giving her a choice?” Cole asked. “Just put her where she’s supposed to be. The deal’s done. The killer’s caught, people are going to get the cure…forget I even mentioned the file, okay?”
Choch took a good long look at Cole. He picked up the backpack, and placed it on his lap. He began to tap at it thoughtfully. “Here’s the thing, Coley-B—sorry, CB. Do you like CB?”
“Whatever, sure.”
“Here’s the thing, CB. Jayne’s kind of, sort of, not quite able to go home just yet. And you never know, the whereabouts of that folder might come in handy.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Choch took a bunch of textbooks out of the backpack and placed them in front of Cole, one by one. Cheerfully, Choch asked, “Did you hear they lifted the curfew? School’s back on, starting Monday! I took the liberty of getting exactly what you’ll need. And I’ll even arrange a tutor for you. Except in math, of course, Mr. Eighty-seven percent! Eva, anybody? Huh? She’d for sure get you an A in Land-Based Education.”
Cole picked up one of the textbooks, entitled Canada: A Country of Change, and dismissively fingered through the pages before placing it back on the pile. “This is such a load of shit.”
“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Choch said excitedly. When he saw Cole’s reaction, though—shocked, disgusted, angry, take your pick—he added a very weak, “Yaaaaaay.”
“I’m going home. I’m done. I did everything I was supposed to do,” Cole said.
“Oh no, my dear child. I’m afraid you’re only getting started.”
To be continued…