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Authors: Jools Sinclair

BOOK: 44 Book Four
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The afternoon hours flew by quickly and it was already almost seven. I was uneasy when I thought that after he left, Mo and I would be by ourselves. I caught her glancing my way a few times, but she still hadn’t spoken to me. Maybe I would just have to get used to it.

I finished cleaning out the large brewer and then rang up a few orders. We said goodbye to David and I packed up all the used grounds, thinking about whether I should bring them home for Kate. She was planning on doing some serious gardening now that she was almost done painting the house. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mo walking toward me.

“Let’s talk after we close,” she said.

“Sure, okay.”

Her energy was more relaxed, not as dark, and calmer than it had been all week. I wondered if David had said something to her.

A new round of customers came in, got in line, and ordered. The next time I looked up at the clock it was almost time to go home. We started our cleaning routine, Mo counting the money. By 9:10, everybody was gone and we locked the doors.

She turned down Larry and his Flask, one of the local bands. She went over to a table by the window and waited. I finished putting away the milk, took off my apron, and sat down across from her.

“Tell me what you saw,” she said, slouching back in the chair.

“I’ve seen your brother,” I said. “Three times now. Once on a hike. Once at Big Sky Park. And then over there at that corner table like I told you. I think he wants to talk to you.”

She pushed out the chair next to her and put her feet on it, but didn’t say anything. I waited while we stewed in the uncomfortable silence.

“So did David talk to you?” I said, not being able to take it anymore.

“About what?”

“Me.”

“Only that I should ease up on you. I don’t know what business it is of his. Typical.”

She sighed and I could see that it wasn’t easy for her, talking to me. But we were making progress. I tried to think of something to say.

“I figured you wouldn’t ever want to talk about this with me.”

She sat up in the chair.

“So what changed your mind about listening to what I had to say?” I said.

“Well, he is
my
brother. Seems only right. Plus, what you said. About what he was wearing. The Guns N’ Roses T-shirt.”

“Yeah, he’s had it on every time I’ve seen him.”

“That band rocked his world. He used to do a pretty cool Axl impression.”

She smiled briefly, but then it disappeared.

“And I don’t know how you would know about his favorite rock band,” she said. “I mean, that seems like proof. Although I guess you could have seen him way back when we were in high school. But I don’t think so.”

“I barely remember you, let alone your brother.”

Even if Mo had been in my class, I doubted I would have known her that well. We traveled in different circles.

“I remember you. I saw you play once. You were all right.”

“Thanks,” I said, a little surprised.

“And you were right about that other thing you said too. I do remember your accident. It was right before Spenser’s. When you started working here, I knew who you were.”

I leaned in toward her.

“Mo, can you tell me about that night? It might help.”

She looked off and we hit another few minutes of dead air. But I was patient and didn’t rush her. I knew the pain of going back to bad times and remembering things you would rather forget.

“I was home watching TV when he was killed,” she said. “It was all so stupid.”

She stared at me for a moment and blew out a long breath before continuing.

“Our folks were in Seattle that week and I had their car. I told him to call me and I’d come pick him up. He said he would call if he was coming home, but he might spend the night at his friend’s. When I didn’t hear from him, I didn’t think too much about it. He stayed over there sometimes. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Where did he go?”

“Over to Devin’s.”

I thought back to the photo of Spenser’s soccer team. I had looked carefully at the faces and names listed underneath to see if I recognized anybody. I didn’t recall any Devin.

“Did Devin play soccer?” I asked.

Mo laughed for a second.

“No way. He wasn’t, isn’t that kind of kid. Spenser met Devin in school that year.”

“So Spenser was walking home from Devin’s house and then was hit by the car? I thought he was found out in the middle of nowhere, on a country road or something.”

“Yeah. Devin lives out there. It’s about three miles from us and Spenser liked to run it. That’s what he did the night he died. He ran over to Devin’s house, wouldn’t let me take him. I don’t know what they did all night. Normal stuff I guess. Probably video games or just listened to music for hours and then headed back home. Or tried to, until the bitch took him out.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a package of cigarettes, taking one out and playing with it between her fingers. She was still composed, but she was on edge. I could tell she was done.

“I’m going to step out for a minute,” she said.

I watched as she went out to the curb and lit a cigarette, the smoke striking against the black sky. I finished cleaning behind the counter and called Kate to let her know I was leaving soon. Mo came back in.

I grabbed my coat. We turned out most of the lights and stepped outside. She locked the door.

“So how do we do it?” she said. “How does he talk to me?”

“I don’t really know. The ball’s in his court. I’m sure he’ll let us know.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen.

“Hold out your arm. Here’s your first taste of ink.”

She wrote her phone number on my skin.

“Call me right when you see him. I’ll come and find you.”

 

 

CHAPTER 25

 

I looked up at the sky. In the distance, black clouds clustered together and looked like they were coming our way. But we had some time.

I dribbled out toward the center circle, turned, and took it in. Ty was back in front of the goal.

He was a natural athlete. He biked, skied, rock climbed, and ran on trails. He did triathlons and had run a marathon.

But he sucked at soccer.

“Goooooaaaaallllllll!” I shouted out as I threw up my arms and ran in circles around him. He laughed, retrieving the ball from the back of the net.

“I wasn’t even ready yet. Go again.”

The crowd in the next field cheered and I glanced over to see one of the teams celebrating. We were at Big Sky and a group of Hispanic men was playing nearby, their families watching on the sidelines.

I saw them out here sometimes. Over the last few months I had gotten to know a few of them, enough to say hi. They had even invited me to join in on their practices. I hadn’t done it yet, but decided that the next time they asked I would play with them. They had some sweet skills, some with moves I had never seen before.

“Come on,” Ty shouted behind me. “Bring it. Let’s see what you got.”

I scored on him three more times. Once, he literally ate my dust, as a made my best Iniesta move and he tripped over his own feet, falling down hard on the grass as he tried to stop me.

“Fogetaboutit,” I said to him right before scoring. I took the ball out of the net as he got up, dusting off his butt.

I could hear one of players on the other field saying something in Spanish to one of his teammates.

“Eres más malo que ese buey jugando contra aquella chamaca.”

“Go again. Now I’m really ready,” Ty said, a little confidence leaving his body.

I smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

He wasn’t really ready for me and he never would be. I knew that behind his gentle nature was a competitive beast. We could easily be out here all day, me scoring a thousand goals over and over again and him always getting the ball out of the goal and telling me to go once more. I liked that about him. I liked that a lot.

And I had to be honest. It felt good to be good at something. Especially something you loved.

I stopped counting my goals and then after a half hour or so, threw myself on the ground in the middle of the field and stared up at the sky. It was getting darker. Ty ran up and threw himself down next to me.

“Just an off day. Don’t get a big head over it. Next time you’re
mine
.”

I laughed.

“Okay, I’ll keep up on my practicing then.”

He leaned over and kissed me.

“David says that I should be worried,” I said, sitting up. It was a little bit of an embellishment, but that was the feeling I got after our chat at 10 Barrel. That Ty could start dating someone over there.

“About what?” he said.

“Well, that there are all these people you work with who you might want to go out with and that…”

“Take it easy, Abby. I’m not like that. You should know that by now.”

I hugged the ball.

“I know,” I said, trying to think of the right words. I was lost. “I guess I just wanted to say that I appreciate you being so…”

“Stop. I don’t think you know what you’re saying. You’re fuzzy in the head right now.”

“Well, I know we’re taking it slow. I guess I wanted you to know that I have some really strong feelings for you.”

He kissed me again.

“It’s a special thing, this feeling. I’ve only been in love once, a long time ago. It’s worth waiting for, Abby. Don’t listen to your friend so much. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t know me.”

“Good to hear,” I said.

We got up and headed to the parking lot, my heart ready to explode under my jersey.

And then I saw him.

In the trees, staring.

Waiting.

 

 

CHAPTER 26

 

I turned to Ty.

“This is going to sound weird,” I said. “But I have to go over there by myself for a few minutes. I’ve been having trouble sleeping and I read about this meditation technique. At this point I’m willing to try just about anything.”

I knew it sounded lame, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances. I could tell he wasn’t completely buying it. I bit my bottom lip. He looked at me for a minute, and then looked over at where I had pointed, then back at me.

“Well, I’ll come along with you,” he said and started heading in that direction.

I glanced over at Spenser, my chest tightening, and pulled Ty’s arm.

“It’s supposed to work better if you’re alone. But I’ll be right over there, in full sight, next to that tree. It’ll just take a few minutes. I’ll meet you at the truck.”

He hesitated for a moment.

“Okay, whatever,” he said, rubbing his chin. “But I’ll wait right here.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I was hoping Spenser would stay longer this time. I needed more information and wanted him to tell me what really happened the night he died. I had a strong feeling that’s why he was here. Maybe he just needed his family to know before he could move on.

As I walked up to him, the first thing I noticed was that he looked stronger, more like a teenager than a ghost. He wasn’t so faded.

“Hi, Spenser,” I said, trying to hide the horror I felt as I looked at his face. He was scary up close, the scar darker and thicker than before.

“Hey,” he said, nodding.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against a tree.

“Is that your boyfriend?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“He sucks.”

“You were watching, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, grimacing.

“Hey, I talked to Mo about you the other night. She listened this time. I think she believes that I can see you. Do you want me to call her and let her know you’re here?”

“No. I just want to talk to you. I want you to tell her.”

“Okay.”

I sat down on an old log and he sat next to me and we both looked out at the soccer fields. A family with small children was down by one of the goals, playing with a small ball.

“It was a bad night. The worst night of my life.”

“Well, yeah. You died.”

“Yeah.That too. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Not even close.”

I turned quickly and looked at him. His eyes were wide.

“Before you told me that you messed up,” I said. “Tell me what happened. What did you do?”

He let out a ghostly sigh.

“It’s what I didn’t do. I should have listened.”

“Listened to who?” I asked.

“My folks for one.My friends on the team. Even Mo told me.”

“Mo told you what?”

But he didn’t answer. He just stared out at the little boy who had picked up the ball and laughed as he ran toward us, his father chasing him.

“That he was bad news,” he finally said. “But I just didn’t see it. I thought he was okay. Different but fun. I was stupid, so stupid.”

The junipers swayed in the wind.

“Are you talking about your friend Devin?”

“He’s not my friend.”

He stood up and started pacing in front of me.

“So what happened that night?”

“We were going to hang out, like we always did. His dad wasn’t home. He worked nights. We usually just hung out and played music and video games. He had a drum set we goofed around with. Sometimes Devin drank beer and smoked pot.”

“Not you?” I said.

“No. I was serious about my training. Always a big game coming up. I just sat and we talked about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Sometimes girls. Sometimes about teachers and kids at school we didn’t like. He got in trouble a lot and was always getting sent off to detention. He was suspended once for setting a fire in the bathroom. Almost expelled, I think.”

He was quiet for a moment, and I worried that he might start fading away, but he was just thinking.

“So you guys were just hanging out like that the night you died?”

“It started out that way. Then he says to me, ‘McSorley, come with me for a minute. I want to show you something cool.’”

Another silence.

“So you went with him?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. I followed him outside. He lives on one of those ranches out in the country. You know, with lots of land around. There’s this little shed behind the house, and Devin’s walking to it. It’s like dark as hell out there and I’m stumbling around like a zombie and wondering what’s so important to interrupt our game of
Mass Effect
that he’s gotta show me. And he opens the door to this little crappy shack and flips on some light and says, ‘Welcome to
my
jungle’ or some shit like that.”

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