Authors: Christopher Shields
She nodded against my shoulder. “We’re here for you. We want you to know we don’t blame you. I know that’s what you think.”
My throat seized up and my body shuddered.
“It’s true, Mags,” Ronnie said. “Besides, Rachel would kick our asses if we thought otherwise.”
I chuckled through a sob and closed my eyes, forcing hot tears down my cheeks. I hoped Ronnie was right—I was worried Candace might blame me for what happened. I was terrified they all would. The Fae were after me, and hurting them in the process.
“I never thought…I just didn’t know…” I wheezed.
“She did,” Doug said.
I cried aloud.
“She did know, she knew when she went upstairs that night. She was absolutely aware of what could happen.” Candace’s voice quivered.
“I was afraid you’d blame me. This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.”
“Blame you? Never. You saved my life that night,” Doug said firmly. “Had you not come after me, I’d be dead, too. Blame? This is not on you. Had I not gone upstairs, you wouldn’t have, and she wouldn’t have either…”
His words made me angry. “Is that what you think?”
He smiled. “No, but I might have if it hadn’t been for some powerful advice I got last year from a friend. When Rhonda got hurt I blamed myself—tortured myself. My friend told me I was being an idiot. It didn’t make sense until later when I found out about the Fae. You see, my friend taught me to see things more clearly. I’m just here to return the favor. Each one of us can blame ourselves
or
we can accept the truth—it was beyond our control. You didn’t ask to be in this situation, did you?”
I smiled, slowing letting a deep breath calm me. “No.”
“Then get off the blame train, Mags. It doesn’t become you,” Ronnie said, pulling the glasses away from his green eyes. “A pact, right now.”
He flopped his hand palm up on the table. Doug grabbed it and Candace followed. A grin crossed my face as I did the same. “No blame,” Ronnie insisted.
“No blame,” we agreed.
“What has the Council done about Cassandra?” Candace asked.
I nodded. “They’ve issued a death edict. They’re looking for her. She went into hiding after that night.”
Each of them looked down. While the waitress took our orders, I thought about how much I needed this. I was being stupid about it. They were right. I stared down the street, watching a couple of people strolling into an art gallery under the cloudless sky. I felt safe with my friends.
What did I ever do to deserve them?
Doug gently nudged me out of my stupor. “What about your brother? Any news?”
“I’ve been working on it, and I think I may be getting closer. But nothing yet.”
“I’m sorry,” Candace said.
“What can we do to help?” Ronnie offered.
I thought about it while they stared at me. “Well, I may need your help at some point. Until I know where he is though, I’ve got nothing right now.”
“We’ll do anything you need,” Ronnie said, sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Yeah, just name it,” Doug said.
They all seemed to draw strength when I included them. Even if I wasn’t really going to put them in harm’s way again, I could at least let them think they were helping. And who knew, maybe I could use them in some way. “Okay, when I figure it out, I’ll tell you. But keep that hidden. It may happen on the spur of the moment,” I said.
When the waitress came back with a terra cotta pot full of homemade bread, Ronnie cut a piece and slid it in front of the empty chair. My eyes welled up again.
TWENTY-THREE
FLEETING MOMENTS
When the plane landed in Omaha, I felt only a small sense of relief at being away from the Weald for a few days. Nothing was the same, and though it was June and the gardens were as remarkable as ever, I simply didn’t care. I didn’t like giving up my search for Mitch, even for two days, but it was Nationals and my parents insisted that I swim.
Drevek remained in critical condition, emaciated and pale, but the doctors assured us that he was stable. I knew how much my family desperately needed a break from the hospital. Sara and Sherman promised Mom and Dad they’d stay with him and provide updates if there were any changes.
I wasn’t completely free from the Fae, as Smokey and Gusty were along for the trip. Over the last few weeks, however, I’d grown used to them, so their presence didn’t bother me.
Coach Rollins and his wife met us at the hotel. With a grin spread across his face, he gave me yet another pep talk and told me that college scouts would be on hand to watch me swim. His excitement was contagious and everyone else seemed caught up in it. There was good reason for the excitement: my times had improved dramatically after Rachel died, and only one girl in the country had swum a faster qualifying time. She was a senior from California.
If I made the finals, Coach Rollins said, I’d face her and he thought I could beat her. Swimming had taken on new meaning for me, and other than searching for Mitch it was the only thing I could focus on.
After dinner, Grandpa Vic waddled into our room with Grandma. He and Dad settled into a pair of cheap-looking orange side chairs and prepared to have their ritual nightcaps. Mom and Grandma prattled at the foot of one bed while they watched television, and I lay across the other, trying to focus on them while tracing the busy pattern of the blue and orange comforter with my index finger. Keeping my mind busy, even with something so simple, was a necessity when every idle moment meant tortured memories.
“
¡Qué asco!
” Grandpa bellowed, yanking the plastic cup from his grimaced face.
“Sorry, Vic, it’s the best they had,” Dad said.
“You’re spoiled,” Grandma chirped.
He wrinkled his nose and yanked the bottle up to his face so he could read it. “Ten years? Oh, it’s no good.” He rolled his eyes, wiping his bushy mustache, and gestured to Dad. “Spare yourself, it is orina de cabra.”
“What does that mean?” Dad asked, grinning.
With a deadly serious look on his face, Grandpa said, “Goat piss, my son, goat piss.”
Laughter rumbled up from my chest, and even though I tried, I couldn’t stop cackling. Mom began laughing with me, and soon they all were. It was the first time in two months I’d actually laughed at anything. The moment wasn’t lost on anyone, least of all me.
***
In a quiet place I found in the locker room, I stretched and tried to psych myself up. I hadn’t swum well up to that point, well off my practice times, but I’d been fast enough to make it to the final round of the hundred free. I was in the outside lane, which I didn’t like, but at least I was still in contention. I’d finished ninth in the fifty free and had been eliminated from the hundred breast in the first round, but Coach Rollins was supportive, nonetheless.
“You’re a junior in high school competing with the best in the country. I’m proud of you. The State of Arkansas is proud of you,” he said before he left me to get ready.
Wow, the entire state is proud. No pressure there.
There were thousands of people watching the race, more than I’d ever swum in front of. I took my position by the pool and uncharacteristically looked up into the stands to locate my parents and grandparents. Dad pumped his fist and then grabbed my mom’s hands. She was bouncing in her seat and rocking back and forth with her eyes closed, undoubtedly saying a prayer.
In a pattern I duplicated before every swim, I put my goggles on and stretched my legs and arms, rotating my upper body to stay loose. My heart was already beating wildly in my chest when the announcer began calling off names and lanes. I didn’t hear mine. Instead, I blocked everything out and focused on the surface of the water. Before stepping on the platform, Smokey and Gusty erratically sped away from the building.
“Not now!” I said to myself. Using my calming technique, I took a deep breath and imagined lying on the beach. My heart slowed and I ignored everything else in the world—I wouldn’t let the Fae interfere with my last race, come what may.
I readied myself and hit the water cleanly when I heard the buzzer. I went into the zone, and my inner voice screamed,
you got this
. I was pissed and determined. Two strokes later I felt the Fae again and my anger boiled, causing me to dig deeper, push harder.
Ignoring them, I focused on nothing but my form, my race. The Fae, just one of them, moved to the stands. It threw me off and I felt my form weaken, I dropped my hips. In my head, I was screaming at them, and I fought for those precious tenths of a second I knew I’d just lost.
Ignore it, Maggie, just focus on what you do,
I thought as I neared the wall.
Tuck, flip, push
, my mind screamed. I had no idea where the other swimmers were. I only felt the water and the Fae in the stands. In two strokes my mind went back to the Fae, and for a moment I thought I recognized him. Two more strokes and his face appeared in my mind.
It can’t be
.
Gavin wouldn’t risk being caught
. Then I heard his unmistakable baritone voice in my head,
“Swim.”
Fighting my initial reaction to pull my head out of the water to see if it was really him, I fought instead to finish.
Finish and you can look then
. I sensed the water with my mind, moving with it, letting it tell me how to swim. I’d never used my ability while swimming before, it was my one place to be completely human, but this was different. I had to see him. We were alone in the world, just Gavin and me, and I was about to see him for the first time in a year.
As I got closer to the wall, I felt the Fae in the stands move. He was leaving. I struggled the last few meters, pushing, swimming harder than I ever had. I needed to see him, just catch a glimpse.
I flung my head out of the water the moment I touched. Subconsciously I heard the cheering and screaming, but I tore my goggles off and stared in the direction I thought I’d felt him. A short man with a balding head and a huge smile stood clapping at the end of the bleachers, but Gavin wasn’t there. My mind told me there weren’t any Fae close by.
Disappointment caused my chest to heave as I struggled for breath. Battling my emotions, I barely noticed when the other swimmers touched and looked up at the board. The girl next to me swam over and hugged me, though I didn’t know why. Stretching my mind out again, I found nothing and simply stared at the exit, fighting tears.
My mind had played a cruel trick, and why not? Nerves, grief, and the fear of disappointing my family, I swam with all of it in that moment. Reluctantly, I glanced over to where my family sat. Dad was pumping his fists in the air and crying. Mom and Grandma were hugging each other, and my grandfather was shaking hands with everyone around him while pointing at me in the pool.
Only then did it occur to me to check the board. I followed my name, and next to it was a time I could not believe. And next to that, the number one. Numbly, I climbed out of the water and felt the crush of bodies as I wandered away from the pool edge. The spectators were still cheering and clapping when Coach Rollins pushed through the crowd and picked me up, screaming, “That’s the record. Oh my god, you did it. That’s the record.”
Overcome by emotion, I sobbed, stealing a few quick glances back toward the exit. The people around me probably thought I was just consumed by winning the event, but at the moment, I didn’t care about that.
The next ten or fifteen minutes passed in a blur as I grappled with what I thought I’d felt. Managing a smile and shaking hands along the way, I headed to the locker room to be alone. Back in the cubby I’d found, I grabbed a towel and my warm ups, and went to the showers.
The hot water felt good on my scalp and shoulders, so I let it pound on me for a few minutes. My disappointment over not seeing Gavin was gradually replaced by my disappointment over having won the race by using my ability. I could outswim anyone in the world with it, so my win felt like the farce it was. Gradually the voices in the locker room disappeared. I assumed everyone was at the pool watching the men’s finals.
All the better.
My mind began playing tricks on me again as I felt the same presence return. I laughed to myself. “I really need a good night’s sleep.”
“Is that so?” a baritone voice rang in my ears.
My head spun toward the voice, but I couldn’t see anything but steam in the shower stall. Fumbling with the faucet, I turned the water off and wrapped a towel around my body. After a few tentative steps toward the door, I saw his unmistakable shape leaning against the lockers, blue jeans, pink polo stretched against his broad chest, and perfectly tousled hair. A burning sensation filled my throat and I fought to dry my face with wet hands.
Weak and squeaky, I muttered, “Are you really here?”
His beautiful smile filled the room and brought tears to my eyes. Strutting like he always did, he closed the distance, legs rippling under his jeans and muscular arms swinging at his sides.
He scooped me into his arms and held me tightly against his warm body. Struggling to choke back the sobs that bounced around in my chest, I looked up into his chocolate eyes, their amber flecks glittering under the incandescent lights, and managed a quick breath.
“Yes, Maggie, I’m really here,” he whispered, flashing the devastating smile that always made my knees weak. Then, like a dream, he bent forward and pressed his mouth to mine, setting off every nerve in my body and taking all the strength out of my legs simultaneously. My eyes weren’t open, but I saw stars as the air left my lungs in one exhilarating rush. As I breathed him in, smelling his warm breath and tasting his mouth, my body shivered. As he worked his full lips over mine, my body began to ache and my face flushed. He lightly bit my lower lip, sending a new round of chills up and down my spine, before he pulled his face back a few inches.