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My alarm went off Monday morning, and just like every morning I jumped out of bed with my heart pounding. I shut the ringer off quickly. After I washed, I looked for my pack and remembered I had left it in the living room when we came home from our walk. I trusted everyone in the house now and was certain no one would hurt Annabella. People here had proven to be trustworthy, even Mr. Gravestone, since we all had gotten to know each other during our walks. Besides, no one in the boarding house seemed particularly interested in my stuff.
I thought I’d find Liona busy in the kitchen, but instead when I stepped out of my room, she buzzed through the hall, slammed doors and cursed like I’d never heard her swear before. She nearly bumped into me from behind when I reached the bottom stair, and that’s when I saw Randy in the living room.
He swayed back and forth in his chair like he was upset over something, moaning and making strange noises with his tongue. I strode over to him to see what was wrong, thinking maybe I could quiet him. He stopped rocking but didn’t pay me any mind. He stared at the ceiling. Drool ran down his mouth.
“Don’t get too close, Dylan, I’m warning you.” I had never heard Liona speak in such a stressful tone of voice. “He’s restrained, not enough, but that was the best I could do without getting hit in the head. He’s got a long reach so be careful!”
I put my hands in my hoodie pockets and strolled up to him, talking low. “You wouldn’t hit your old buddy Dylan now, would you Randy?” I asked him.
“Watch out!” Liona warned me again.
Randy didn’t seem to hear me, at least he didn’t respond to my voice. He was strapped down in his chair by a lap belt at the waist, and had his helmet buckled securely, yet his arms were free. When I started talking to him, he perked up. With his fists clenched tight grasping the arms to his wheelchair, he groaned, rolled his eyes and bit his tongue. The closer I got, the more animate he became.
“He’s miserable,” I said, my stomach turning sour at the sight. He ground his teeth and tears rolled down his cheeks. “Where is Mrs. Wright?” I could feel Randy’s pain, though I had no idea what ailed him.
“Not here!” Liona answered with bitterness. She moved about the house rummaging through every drawer she could find. The buffet, the desk, the night table. She picked up a stack of papers piled on top of several magazines and slammed them down again. “And from what I can tell, he’s out of his meds. I can’t find them anywhere. He hasn’t had any since yesterday afternoon. Maybe Mrs. Wright took them with her last night. What a dumb thing to do!” She threw her hands up in disgust. “I don’t know why she would do something like that. She knows what happens when Randy doesn’t take his meds!”
At that moment, Mr. Gravestone appeared from the downstairs hall, leaning heavily on his walker and mumbling profanities. He stood next to the grandfather clock. The pose he struck could have been used for a monster in an old Hitchcock movie. His thin hair stuck out in spikes. His robe draped open revealed his skeletal frame and saggy sweatpants. The scowl on his face might have killed a flock of crows. Liona rolled her eyes. “Go back to bed Mr. Gravestone. Breakfast is nowhere near being ready, yet.”
“How can I sleep with all this ghastly commotion?” he snarled. “Give the kid a sedative or knock him upside the head with a two-by-four. One or the other. Shut him up!”
At that moment, Randy let out a scream. He nearly tipped his wheel chair over he rocked so hard.
“What can I do?” I asked, nearing panic. I exchanged glances with Mr. Gravestone, his angry, mine wide eyed.
“Cook breakfast, okay? I’m going to see if there are any sedatives upstairs, and call Mrs. Wright’s cell phone. I have no idea where she’s at, but she needs to be here!”
Relieved that Liona gave me something to do, I retreated to the kitchen, while she ran upstairs. When I saw that she ran upstairs and left Randy howling at the top of his lungs in the living room, I called out to her.
“Liona?” I wanted to ask her if maybe she could use her magic to calm him down, but she was gone before I could get her attention. I decided at that moment that if Liona wouldn’t attempt to use her magical powers to ease his pain, then I would.
I’d never used my magic on anyone before, so it might be worth a try. Randy and I had become close friends and because I cared for him, I don’t think I could cause him any harm. I took a deep breath, walked cautiously into the living room and kneeled next to his chair. I had to dodge away when he swung, but he was slow, and I was fast. He missed me. “Randy, listen,” I said.
He moaned. His eyes were glazy, and he had a faraway look. I don’t even know if he could sense me near him, much less hear me. I kept talking though because there was always the chance I’d get through. “Listen to me I’m going to give you something to make you feel better. Remember that glow marble? I’m going to give you some magic like the glow marble. You’ll feel better inside when I do, okay?”
“Oh god,” Mr. Gravestone grumbled and then took his walker back down the hall to his bedroom. I ignored the old man.
Randy had stopped swinging his arms, so I stood up and touched his hand, which was grasping his wheel chair. His knuckles turned white he was so strong, and tense.
“You’re hurting inside, aren’t you?” I asked him quietly, my heart going out to him. Of course, he didn’t answer. Too much pain ran through him. I wanted badly to take that pain away so that he didn’t hurt so much. He was too good of a person. He deserved to be smiling and laughing.
“Listen Randy, I’m going to help you.” I rested my hand on his. My fingertips began to tingle. Conjuring magic on Randy’s behalf was easy because I had a lot of desire for him to feel better. The magic pulsated in the palm of my hand like a locomotive. The energy then sped through my fingers into his. The light raced up his arm. He relaxed for a second. A thin smile parted from his lips and he sighed. Thrilled that the magic was working, I sent more energy into him. I watched the glow of light travel into his arm like a Star Wars laser beam filling his body with electricity, only these were good waves of heat filling him.
Suddenly, an odd stinging sensation burned my fingers. The light rays were doubling back into my hand again. My fingers cramped and then contorted. Pain shot through my arm. The left side of my body stiffened. My shoulder ached, and then my chest throbbed, and I thought I was having a heart attack. I doubled over, every muscle inside of me tightened in spasm. I cried out. I had never felt anything so horrible. My knees gave out and I shrank to the floor, still touching Randy’s hand. I couldn’t let go. My cries sounded like Randy’s. I shook in anguish. There was no let up. I couldn’t breathe.
“No!” Liona screamed and ran from the dining room to the two of us. She pried my hand off Randy’s and pulled me away from him. If only for a second, I caught him staring at me in disbelief, free from pain, from seizure. And then he squinted and doubled over again, moaning. She dragged me to the couch and scolded me, her voice a whisper. “You can’t practice magic on him, fool!” she said, her hands a cool relief as she patted my cheeks and wiped my tears away with her thumbs.
Randy cried out again, loud enough to wake up the other tenants. I couldn’t bear to watch him. Still cramped and aching from my muscles having been so tight, I leaned on Liona’s shoulder and balanced myself enough to stand. Waiting for the dizziness to subside, I held the back of a chair. Liona was all over me, holding me up, stroking my face.
“Are you okay?” she kept whispering. When most of my senses returned, and my body no longer seized, I peeled myself away from her and hurried to the kitchen. I grabbed a sack of potatoes and heaved them onto the table. Alone again I breathed deeply and tried to compose myself. My body shook.
“Are you all right?” Liona asked from the doorway.
“I think so.”
She walked up to me and grabbed my arms, her grip firm and strong. I hadn’t been grabbed like that since I was a kid. At first, her touch startled me, but when she looked deep into my eyes I knew she had a genuine concern for me. “Don’t ever attempt to use your magic to take someone’s pain away. Ever! Do you understand? There’s no place for the pain to go but in your body. Don’t mess with nature! Just don’t!”
“Okay,” I said, having learned my lesson. “I won’t!” Her anger showed in the color of her face. “You’re mad.” I didn’t ask her, I told her.
“Damn right I’m mad. You scared the crap out of me. I don’t want anything crazy like that to happen to you. Who knows where that might have gone? You could have died!”
She left me–as shook up as I was–alone in the kitchen. Confused. I took some more deep breaths and then remembered I was supposed to make breakfast. While washing my hands, I thought about calling on my powers to get the food cooked. I closed my eyes shut, but I was too upset to visualize the ocean, or oysters, or anything peaceful. What with Randy still crying out, and Mr. Gravestone yelling at him to shut up and Liona slamming doors, nothing was going right. I sliced my finger chopping the potatoes and hot grease splattered on my wrist when I dropped them in the pan.
Liona dashed in the kitchen once and left immediately when the front door opened. I saw Mrs. Wright came into the house, just as upset as Liona. She walked right past Randy and pulled Liona aside.
“I need to talk with you,” she said.
“Where have you been?” Liona shouted.
Mrs. Wright answered with a hushed voice. I get that she didn’t want the tenants to be alarmed but I don’t see how anyone in the house wasn’t scared out of their gourds, already. I sucked on my bleeding finger as I watched the two.
“I got a call from a social worker yesterday just before her office closed. The matter needed to be discussed this morning so meeting her today was very important. I was downtown at first light, trying to straighten things out.”
“Where are Randy’s pills?” Liona demanded. She didn’t show any signs of being interested in social workers or appointments or Mrs. Wright’s problems. I secretly rooted for her, because I was as angry at Mrs. Wright as much as Liona was.
“Here. In my purse. I had to get his prescription filled.” She delved through her handback and pulled out a bottle of pills. “I’m sorry. I thought the trip would be a short one.”
“Look at him!” Liona responded. She swore unmentionable words as she grabbed the pill bottle from Mrs. Wright’s hands. I jumped aside as she flew past me to the sink, filled a cup with water, and raced toward Randy.
That’s when I noticed Mr. Gravestone sitting on the couch with my blue shoebox on his lap. I wanted to go get it from him but if I left the food, the potatoes would burn. Maybe Liona would notice and take my box from him. I flipped the potatoes and pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge, turning my head often whenever I passed by the doorway, keeping an eye on Mr. Gravestone and Annabella.
Once I had cracked the last egg, and scrambled and cooked them, I brought the food to the table. Mr. Bromheimer came alone into the dining room. He didn’t sit down right away. Liona wheeled Mrs. Benson in for breakfast, but that was as far as we got with our meal because we were interrupted again.
Two cars pulled up in the driveway. One of them was a police car. The other van looked like the one Aunt Agnes drove Uncle Jim to the doctors in. People got out of the vehicles and came knocking on the front door—two women and a law officer. The knock was loud and brought back memories of when I lived with my mother because police were always showing up at our house for one thing or another.
Mrs. Wright hurried to let them in as if she was expecting company. Liona followed her.
I stayed in the dining room with Mrs. Benson and Mr. Bromheimer. Mr. Bromheimer pulled his chair out and sat down, but he didn’t pick up his fork even though his breakfast was steaming hot in front of him. He leaned back on his chair.
Mr. Gravestone sat in the living room on the couch with my box, and Randy, much calmer than before because his meds were taking effect, rocked back and forth in his wheel chair in front of the fireplace. He had his helmet on, and his lap belt strapped across his waist, which kept him snug in his wheelchair. I felt bad for him, but I would never use magic to help him, again. The pain had been too much for me. I guess I’m a weakling. No one gave Randy tribute for his courage. To me, he was as brave as Uncle Jim had been in Vietnam.
Mr. Gravestone finally set my box down on the couch. I took that as a cue to rescue Annabella, so I sprung into the living room. When I had a hold of the shoebox, he tried to grab it back and grumbled and spat at me. “What are you doing?” he asked. “You’re just as much a maniac as the rest of these morons.”
Still holding the shoebox, I pushed his hands off the other end, and carefully stepped away.
As Mrs. Wright let the strangers into the house, I went about looking for a safe place for Annabella. I cradled the box in my arms as I walked across the room and sat next to Randy on the rocking chair. I scooted so close to him that our knees touched. I put the shoe box on my lap, opened it, found the glow marble, and slipped the ball into my hands, closing the lid securely. I spoke Randy’s name softly.
“Randy?” I tried to get his attention. However, the conversation between Mrs. Wright and the social workers was impossible to ignore. They stood by the door. Two women in dark wool coats and high heels. One had short dark hair and bright red lipstick. The other’s blond hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was much younger than the first and someone called her Lynn. The police officer stood behind them with his arms crossed. Mrs. Wright disappeared down the hall for a moment, and the women moved farther into the living room. Their eyes scanned us all like vultures checking out road kill, scrutinizing the house with critical frowns. I shuffled in my seat. Nervous. I’d seen too many social workers when I was a little boy. Always too eager to pounce, they took me away from what had been familiar. My house, my bedroom that had been a kind of refuge. My school. I didn’t have many friends, but Mrs. Dall, my sixth-grade teacher in my old school liked me. The social workers pulled me out of that school and put me in a new one. Even Uncle Jim had to fight them off at one point or they would have taken me away from him.
Mrs. Wright returned from her den with a pile of papers in her hands. She held them out to the women to read. The social workers shook their heads.
“This is all true. It’s all evidence that I’ve been taking good care of Randy.?” Mrs. Wright said.
Randy made a grunting sound just then.
“You can take these to the hearing and show the judge, but to us they mean nothing.”
“He’s been here for three months,” Mrs. Wright argued. “We’ve had no problem. He’s healthy, eats well, even gets fresh air daily. We’re perfectly capable of taking care of him.”
“Not according to our records. This facility is unacceptable for someone in Randy’s condition.” The dark haired social worker made a sour face and handed the papers back to Mrs. Wright.
Randy moaned again. “No...n. n.no”
“Three months in this facility should never have happened. He should never have been here in the first place. We’re taking him away. Now. Today.” She nodded to Lynn and then to the police officer who glanced this way with a perplexed look on his face. I could feel Randy tremble since our knees were still touching.
“I can’t let him go!” Mrs. Wright protested.
“You don’t have a choice. Where are his belongings?”
Liona turned her back on all of them and went down the hall to Randy’s room.
“What are you going to do with him?” Mrs. Wright’s face paled. She looked terrified.
“That information is confidential. He’s no longer a concern of yours. You’ll be getting a bill from the state for the misappropriation of funds.”
“Misappropriation? What? You’re going to make me pay you back? The money was used for his care.”
The older social worker lifted her briefcase onto the table and pulled a bundle of papers out. She handed them to Mrs. Wright. “Which you provided illegally. I’m sorry, Mrs. Wright. If you would like to contest the decision, you’re entitled to a hearing. I doubt you’ll have any luck getting Randy back, but with a lawyer you may be able to waiver the fee. Be thankful we aren’t closing this place down entirely.”
When Mrs. Wright looked at me, I was no help. What could I say? I took Randy’s hand, and he squeezed mine so hard it hurt.
When Liona came back with Randy’s luggage, she handed them to Lynn, who quickly dodged out the door with them. The other social worker spoke to the policeman, pointed at us, and said something I didn’t hear. He nodded.
I felt a fever come on. This couldn’t be happening. They were taking Randy away.
“Randy?” I slid the glowing ball to him. He stared at it for a moment, then with his long white fingers he clenched it tight. The light bled through his flesh so that his fist looked like a cannon ball. Instead of laughing like before, he leaned toward me, contorted his face in a ghastly way, furrowed his brow, and barred his teeth. He looked so much like a pit bull I thought he would snap at me and tear me to pieces.
He shoved me away from him with both his fists, pushing his glowing knuckles into my chest. His chair rolled backward from the force. “No! N...no,” he said. “I’m no...ot going with them. You ca...nt...make me, Dyl.an.”
I heard furniture move behind me. The lamp. The coffee table. They were clearing a path to get Randy through.
“Randy, look at me,” I caught his attention for a moment. “I’m with you, buddy. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to!” I meant it with all my heart, but even though I swore an oath I had no control over the matter.
Randy tried to focus on me, but he was full of emotion. I knew because Randy was a lot like me in ways. Like a dam holding back unmeasurable amounts of water and having no release, no faucet to let the words flow, or the tears. Randy was bottled up right now. His face burned red, his lips were almost bleeding from clamping his teeth on them.
They surrounded us like a pack of wolves. The social worker came around the back of the couch to get at him from his right, and the police officer moved in on his left. The closer they got, the more violent Randy became. He stopped glaring at me and pushed the wheels on his chair back and forth to avoid being seized, running over my toes. At that point Lynn came back into the house and moved swiftly toward us as well.
“Nooo,” Randy moaned. “I’m staying with my bud....bud...dy.” His eyes grew wide with fear. He really didn’t want to go.
“Can’t you let him stay?” I asked when I looked up at the policeman. No one responded to me. Mrs. Wright pleaded with them, but her cause was more to keep her boarding house and her reputation. I don’t think she had that much love for Randy.
I had to stop this madness. I tried standing up, but both women hovered over me. They were behind my chair, coming to the end of the couch. If I had stood, I’d have bumped heads with one.
“I.... I’m not leaving,” Randy repeated, rolling even further backward so that his chair was now flat against the wall. “Dy...Dylan! Stop them, Dylan.” He sounded like a wild animal dying in the woods, and he was crying out my name to save him.
A split moment’s time was not enough for me to think. I wanted to come to his rescue and protect him. Maybe grab his chair and wheel him out the back door but it was too late and then things got crazy. When the dark haired social worker squeezed in behind him, she took hold of his wheelchair. Randy dropped the marble. As I reached down to pick it up and put it back in the shoe box, Randy started swinging his arms at the women. I didn’t have time to dodge. I got in the way and he popped me in the eye. It was an accident, but it hurt. I saw stars! The pain was so great I couldn’t think at all. I stood up holding my eye. My shoe box slid off my lap. Randy screamed so loud I had to plug my ears. The policeman jumped over the couch to get behind Randy.
Everyone yelled and gave orders, but no one could get close enough to Randy because he was swinging something fierce. They tried to contain him. Randy’s a strong guy though, and he swung back and forth, grabbing anything that got in his way. If I wasn’t holding my eye, I might have been able to stop him.
What happened then, happened too fast. And yet l saw everything in slow motion. One moment my box was on the floor at his feet and the next moment it was upside down on his lap, and then Annabella was air born, flying across the room and slamming into the brick fireplace.
The crash split my heart in two.
Pieces of her flew into the air as she shattered. Bit by bit she fell, her delicate, white porcelain body splintered into thousands of tiny shards and spewed out across the hearth, into the rug, and on the end tables.
I paid no attention to what went on around me after that. I plummeted into a black void. I saw shapes moving, which could have been the social workers pushing Randy out of the house, and Mrs. Wright who followed them outside, or maybe Mr. Gravestone who drove his walker into the dining room and down the hall. I don’t know. I heard voices. I even heard my name once.
Fire burned inside of me, flames roared out of control like the wild fire Uncle Jim and I witnessed last summer in the mountains. Raging hot and fierce, and I wished then that the flames consumed me, ate me up like a charcoal falling into a barbecue pit. The sounds around me deadened until I couldn’t hear anything. Not a thing. Only silence. A death sonata for my beautiful Annabella who lay in unrecognizable bits; tiny white and pink chips scattered across the floor; fragments of my grandma’s keepsake.
My last gift from Uncle Jim.
“Dylan,” the voice said. I blinked, squeezed my eyes tight and blinked again. “Dylan.” It was Liona. She stood by the couch, one hand resting on its arm, the other twisting a stray lock that had fallen on the wrong side of her head. Her earring dangled and caught the sunlight from the window. Her eyes sparkled, not in gladness. No, I think there was a tear. No one else was in the room.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
What could she be sorry for? She didn’t destroy Annabella. She didn’t give it to Randy. She didn’t tell those people to come over and take my friend away or lose his medicine. She had nothing to do with any of this.
Next to Liona on the floor was my pack. I moved toward her to pick it up. That’s when the shock came. That terrifying electricity that I hated so much. Lasting only a minute, I froze and took a deep breath. I knew I couldn’t control it and that’s why I hoped beyond hope it would go away before I did something to hurt someone. Liona’s eyes were wide open. She didn’t say anything though. I don’t know what I looked like, probably a monster because she took a step back as if she was afraid of me. I resented that as soon as the tingling subsided. I glared at her, but I doubt she understood. She probably thought I hated her. I slowly got control of my arms and reached out for my pack, slipped it on my back and stood up straight. I looked into those pretty green eyes again. Eyes that I didn’t deserve to look at because I’m leaving them. For good. I’m leaving all of this for good. I didn’t even want my clothes up in my room anymore. I just wanted out. I just wanted to smell the sea air. Calm myself on the beach. Conjure some good magic maybe. Forget all of this. Forget this home, these people. Maybe even forget Annabella ever existed.
“Dylan.” She followed me to the door. I ignored her and pushed her arm off mine as I met the morning air. The police car motor ran idle outside. The women surrounded the car, still arguing. Probably Randy was strapped in the van. I went the other way. Liona walked by my side for a while but I walked faster, and she was soon panting behind me.
“Liona, come here!” Mrs. Wright called and then Liona left me.
I didn’t look back. Not once.
Chapter 11
