The hallway was long and dim, with about a thousand band names scrawled on the concrete walls. The back door was open. Outside was an alley. A couple of dumpsters and a stack of black plastic garbage bags. Two kids were hanging around there, smoking.
"Did you see Relly?" I asked.
"Who?"
Running out of the alley, I had a choice. Left or right on this empty back street. I kept asking myself, Why do I need to find him? What was the big deal? If he wanted to run off, that was his business, right?
It was one of those cold, hard, early winter days when the sunset painted the whole sky red. In one direction was the burning glow. In the other was shadow.
I ran with the sunset at my back. This was a section of the city I didn't know. And on a Sunday afternoon, it was empty, even desolate. How can I possibly find him? I kept asking myself. And why? He ran off for a good reason. If he wanted to be with us, with me, he would have stayed at Waterstreet.
Still, I ran. Still, somehow I followed his path.
The sky was now all crimson, writhing and swirling with sunset fire.
I stopped at the entrance to a narrow alley. More trash cans, more piles of broken-down boxes. More blank, empty back doors.
And there he was, huddled like a wounded animal.
I hurried toward him. "Relly, what's wrong? What are you doing?"
"You shouldn't be here," he whispered.
"What are you talking about?"
The light from the sky was amazing, making everything red. My hands, his face, even the wet pavement.
"You're not ready," he said.
"I don't get it," I said, kneeling down beside him. "What's wrong?"
He took off his coat, then started fumbling to pull his shirt over his head.
"What are you doing?" I was helpless with him in this state. Maybe he was crazy and what can you do with a crazy person but stand there and watch? Maybe he was sick, and I should be running to call an ambulance. Or maybe I was crazy and sick, and none of this was really happening.
His hand flickered. I mean the skin looked like it was moving, all melting and misty. The whole alleyway was drenched in the sky's red throb.
"Go away," he moaned. "You're not ready."
He got his shirt off and he looked so thin and weak.
"Relly, listen to me. I'm going to call—"
"No!" he hissed. "Nobody else. Nobody can see." Then he took hold of my hand. His felt hot. Not like fevered flesh but like something right out of the oven.
"Relly, you're sick. You stay right here and I'll call—"
Then I saw the first little glint of fire. And now I was sure I was the crazy one. Flame doesn't just appear on a boy's skin, right? Fire doesn't come from a body.
But still, I saw it. Red and orange tongues of flame rising from Relly, like he was coated with gasoline and I'd tossed a lit match on him. I saw the flames rise up, swirling and rushing. "Get away!" he moaned. "Get back!"
I wanted to hold onto him, to hold back the flame. But it hurt too much. And so I fell back as he stood, completely covered in fire.
Someone was screaming. Me? Maybe. Relly? Maybe. Both of us? I don't know.
I grabbed a hunk of old discarded carpet to smother the fire. "No." The voice came, from him or from the flame. "Don't."
He stood before me burning from head to toe. Black smoke poured upward, a strange, almost perfumey smoke. He raised his hands over his head like a conqueror, the winner of some deadly fight. A minute before, he looked weak and sick. Now he was beautiful and fearsome. Flames roared out of him, and I knelt there on the cold wet pavement, sure I'd gone totally insane.
I guess I was crying now. Somebody was, and I don't think it was Relly. I closed my eyes, trying to make the fire go away. But I could still hear it. And still feel it burning on my face.
Just as fast as it came, it went away. The heat dwindled. And the red glow I could see through my closed eyes vanished, too. No more uprushing noise. "Relly?" I said, still not looking.
He was dead for sure. How could he survive that? I'd knelt there weak and useless while Relly had burned to nothing.
"Relly?" When I finally opened my eyes, he was wearing his long coat again. But his feet were bare, and what I could see of his legs, too. He looked exhausted, totally used up. Still, he was alive.
"Now you know," he whispered.
I came toward him, afraid it would start all over again.
"Now you know what I truly am."
The sunset was gone and long, cold shadows were filling the alley. Relly pulled his coat tighter to his chest. "Now there's no turning back. You know about me and soon enough you'll know about yourself."