The Legend of the Firewalker (17 page)

Alan ran his hand through his blond hair to fix a loose strand and laughed. “I don’t know which is more com
ical,” he said, “Angela being
all goo-goo
eyed
over Malick, like some fourteen-year-old, or Lafonda claiming he’s doing something bad to her all the time.”  

Both Angela and Lafonda turned to gawk at him in pr
otest. “Whatever, Alan,” huffed Angela, while rolling her eyes.

He laughed. “Now, Lafonda, before you yell at me,” he said, “I don’t think you were wasting time by asking stupid questions. I think the whole conversation was st
upid to begin with. You were just trying to make sense of Jonathan’s ridiculous story.”

“Alan!” cried Angela.

“What?” he said. “You know the whole story sounded crazy; all this nonsense about pissed-off angels and parallel dimensions. Now, that was a waste of time. And Angela, don’t think I forgot that you wanted to follow Jonathan into some dirty cave.” He looked around and then up towards the cafeteria doors. “Where is the lunatic, anyway?”

“Jonathan is not a lunatic, Alan,” Angela said firmly. “Jonathan didn’t make up the story about the Fallen Ones. He was just interpreting the symbols.”

“Whatever,” grumbled Alan. “Symbols or no symbols, if he believes that story, he’s a lunatic.”

“Okay,” said Erin. “Even though I have my own b
one to pick with our resident archeologist, no pun intended, let’s put a rest on the name calling. Jonathan may not be punctual and may be a little eccentric, but he’s not a lunatic.”

Alan shook his head. “Well, it’s time to go anyway,” he said. “Looks like Lady D is rallying up the troops.”

“Lady D?” asked Angela. “Who is Lady D?”

“LaDonda,” responded Alan, confidently.

“My grandmother?” laughed Lafonda.

“Yeah,” said Alan. “Lady D.”

Angela laughed. “Where did you get that one?” she asked.

“It’s short for LaDonda,” explained Alan. “Lafonda’s name and her grandmother’s are too close sounding to each other. It can be a bit confusing.”

“Come on, Lafonda,” said Angela, standing up and grabbing her tray. “Let’s go share with your grandmother the new name Alan has for her.”

“Whatever,” he sneered. “You just wish you had thought of it.”

Nathan watched as the others walked away, but remained seated at the table. He wanted to finish his orange juice before dealing with the guys on his floor.

“Come on, Nathan!” called Lafonda. “My grandmother wants us to assemble everyone and to meet her in the front lobby.”

“Okay, I’m coming,” he said, quickly finishing the last sip of orange juice while scarfing down another bite of pancakes. He was reluctant to pick up his tray and wished he had another moment to relax and to finish his food before running off to deal with Lafonda and the others. Nathan looked outside the window and saw the red cardinal still resting on the tree branch. He thought about his dream and the blue flame that emerged from his hand. He also thought about the blue flame that mysteriously appeared at the foot of his bed. “Did that blue flame really come from out of my hands?” he pondered. “Just so much to deal with at once.”

He turned to look at Lafonda and still felt relief to see her wearing white sneakers.
I just wish I knew when this will all happen,
he thought again.

Nathan sighed. He picked up his tray and paused to look at the cardinal one last time, but it was gone.

11

TWO THINGS FOR CERTAIN

It was Friday: the end of the day and the end of the second week at camp. Nathan waited for Malick at the north entrance to Lake Charleston. He was a little early arriving at the entrance this time, but he didn’t mind it. He was looking forward to having a break from the guys on his floor. He wasn’t, however, looking forward to preparing fire pits for the night’s bonfire with Stephen Malick. But he figured that although he had to hang out with Malick and perform manual labor, at least he was outdoors.

A gust of wind passed him, and Nathan let his mind wa
nder aimlessly. He stared at the large and small trees that lined the north entrance and Lawrence Road. Leaning against the forest preserve sign, he tried to block out the sound of the few cars that drove by and tune into the silence of the forest. He tried to welcome the silence but couldn’t. The same thoughts that had plagued him all week began to replay in his mind like a broken record. 

Nathan had spent most of the week thinking about Lafonda and the others and how he could possibly pr
event his recent nightmare starring the mysterious woman in white from coming true. All he could do was to keep a watchful eye on Lafonda’s tennis shoes. He would occasionally compliment Lafonda on her shoes of choice, hoping to deter her from buying a new pair. He figured that knowing Lafonda and her love for clothing and everything stylish and modern, it was only a matter of time before she traded up. To prevent the gray-and-pink sneakers from appearing on her feet, he would try everything possible to convince her that white shoes was the way to go.

Although he cringed at the thought of it, Nathan had hoped to revisit Grimm Cemetery again in his dreams. He thought if he had the same dream again, maybe he could learn something he hadn’t seen the first time. Maybe there was something he had missed that could help to prevent the dream from happening. Unlike the many dreams he’d had before about Leah, nothing happened. In fact, all week N
athan couldn’t remember dreaming about anything. His dreams were just as absent as a solution.

He began to doubt whether or not it was even a dream to begin with, because everything seemed so real. Unlike b
efore, with his dreams about Leah, Nathan had felt like he was actually there. The only thing he knew for certain, the only conclusion he kept coming to over and over, was that the blue flame in his room was real and so was Leah.

Everything happening felt so real, especially for Leah; so real that she was committed to a mental hospital b
ecause of it. When he wasn’t thinking about his dream at Grimm Cemetery and how to prevent it, he was thinking about Leah. He wondered how she was doing.

Nathan often wished he had at least one
trusted person to talk to, one person to whom he could tell everything. He wished he had someone to share the burden of what was happening to him and what he knew, but then he would remember Leah. She had no one to talk to, no one she could trust because no one believed her. 

“Hey!” called out a familiar voice.

Quickly, Nathan stood up straight and turned around just in time to see Stephen Malick crossing Lawrence Road.

“Somebody’s early,” Malick smirked.

Nathan was so deep in thought that he was caught off guard by Malick’s remark.

They both stood in silence, and then Malick ran his hand backwards through his hair. “Okay?” he laughed.

“Okay what?” asked Nathan. 

Malick shook his head and then proceeded down the path. “Nothing, sir,” he laughed again.

“Okay,” Nathan sighed, following behind him. “Whatever.”

The trail leading to Lake Charleston was still a little moist from the previous night’s rainfall. Nathan was glad that he was wearing his hiking boots instead of his tennis shoes. Last time he wore his tennis shoes to the lake, they got so dirty with his filling the wood bin that he’d consi
dered throwing them away. Regardless of the reason for being out there, Nathan enjoyed being outside and in the forest.

Malick continued to walk ahead of him and would occ
asionally turn around and laugh.

“What?” asked Nathan.

“Nothing,” he snickered.

He frowned.
I am not in the mood for this today. Next time, I’ll just volunteer to start the fires alone.

Malick laughed again, this time turning to shake his head at him.

“All right,” grumbled Nathan. “What the heck is it?”

Malick stopped walking down the trail and turned around to face him. They had stopped at the fork in the trail that led
to the Northern Cahokia Tribal Museum and the cliffs overlooking Lake Charleston.
He grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nathan could feel his ears turning red. “What? Why the heck do you keep laughing and looking at me?”

Malick laughed heartily.

“Okay,” said Nathan angrily, as he stormed past Malick.

Malick smiled
and grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him from continuing down the path.

“All right, all right,” Malick said. “You really need to lighten up.”

Nathan turned around to face him. “Lighten up?” he asked, angrily. “You want me to — lighten up?” His thoughts began to ramble in his head.
This guy has no clue what I am dealing with.

Malick smiled wide. “Yes,” he said. “Have some fun for a change and don’t be so serious.”

Nathan shook his head angrily. “Yes,” he said. “Have fun and be cool like Stephen Malick. No need to worry about anything because I don’t have a care in the world.”

Malick responded with a laugh, and Nathan’s ears and face grew hotter and hotter. He gritted his teeth.

“Okay, okay,” Malick said, grabbing him by the arm again. “Calm down for a second. I apologize for poking fun at you.”

Nathan took a deep breath. “What do you want?”

Malick smiled. “It’s obvious that, aside from your normal brooding self, something is bothering you.”

Nathan’s jaw fell open. “Brooding?” he protested. “I don’t brood. I’m overly sarcastic, maybe, but never broo
ding.”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough,” Malick chuckled. “Can we at least agree that something is definitely bothering you?”

Nathan sighed again. “Where are we going with this?” he asked. 

Malick’s smile faded away. He had a concerned look on his face. “I’ve noticed over the past two weeks that you’ve gotten quieter and quieter,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Not that I am complaining,” Malick said, “but there has definitely been a retreat in the remarks and cynicism from your peanut gallery.
” 

Nathan was surprised and tried to hide his smile. “And?” he asked, while trying to keep his poker face.

“And,” continued Malick, “you are definitely worrying about something, definitely overanalyzing more than usual.”  

Nathan looked intently at Malick and blinked his eyes.
He’s right,
he thought.

He definitely was worried about something and pro
bably was acting a little different, but who wouldn’t be different considering everything that was happening to him? More than anything, he was surprised that Stephen Malick, of all people, had even noticed.

Malick waved his hand and gestured his head in the d
irection of the trail leading away from Lake Charleston. “Come on,” he said.

Nathan was confused. “Come on what?”

“Come on and follow me,” he said.

“Follow you? We don’t have time for this. Besides, the last time I checked, Argus was expecting us.”

“Come on,” Malick whined. “We have time.”

Nathan checked the time on his cell phone. “Barely,” he said.

Malick smiled and nudged him up the trail.

The trail to the Northern Cahokia Tribal Museum was narrow. The museum was located near the base of the cliffs, so the trail led upward. Nathan wasn’t as familiar with this part of the trail. He was a lot more familiar with the one that led from Lawrence Road to Lake Charleston. He followed close behind Malick and thought about Leah again and then about Lafonda. He cringed when the black-hooded figure with the silver sword popped up in his head again. Up ahead, the trees surrounding the trail were thinning out and he saw the museum’s paved par
king lot.

Once out of the forest, Nathan attempted to scrape the mud from the bottom of his shoes. He had been to the mus
eum many times before on school field trips, but he couldn’t remember ever using the connecting trail to get there. Most people accessed the museum parking lot from Lawrence Road.

He watched as Malick paced happily towards the mus
eum.

LaDonda had given a large contribution for the constru
ction of the museum years ago, and Nathan thought that explained why the outside resembled a downsized version of the Devaro Mansion. The two-story building, though small, housed many rare Cahokia Indian artifacts and information collected about the Northern Cahokia tribe that had once populated the area.

“What are we doing here again?” he asked.

Malick’s eyes were wide and his arms stretched open. “Look at that view!” he shouted. “You can really see how amazing the cliffs are, now that we are closer. I can’t wait till we’re at the top.”

Nathan’s mouth fell open. “The top?” he blurted, while staring across the parking lot to the connecting trail. “You said nothing about tracking all the way up to the top.”
Come to think of it,
he thought,
he didn’t say anything to begin with. Why am I following him, anyway?

“Come on,” smiled Malick.

Nathan checked his cell phone again. “We don’t have time!”

Malick glanced over his shoulder and smiled one last time before disappearing into the forest.

The trees rustled and a light breeze of air rushed through, cooling Nathan’s face. Being that it was evening, the museum was closed and the parking lot was completely empty. Nathan checked the time on his cell phone again and considered heading back without Malick. “We have stuff to do!” he protested to himself. He stared at the entrance to the cliffs and another breeze rushed over him.

“Those breezes feel more amazing from the top!” shouted Malick from the forest. 

Nathan glanced up to the top of the cliffs. “Ugh,” he moaned. “I know I will regret this, but … I’m coming!” 

The trail leading from the parking lot up to the cliffs was much wider and wood chipped, so the path was a lot less muddy. Nathan thought this was probably because the mus
eum gave guided tours to the top and to the surrounding Cahokia Caves. 

Malick continued briskly along the trail and occasiona
lly turned around to smile. Nathan didn’t mind the distance, and after a few minutes could see something yellow blowing in the wind ahead of him. When he got closer, he saw that two trees next to the entrance to the trail that led downward to the caves behind the cliffs had yellow ribbons tied around them. In the ground, blocking the entrance to the trail, were two metal poles, one on either side, with a thick, rusty metal chain running the length between them. 

From the middle of the chain hung a red-and-white sign that read:

Closed

Please Do Not Disturb

Archeological Investigation in Progress until August

Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted

Nathan looked down the path between the two yellow-ribboned trees and then glanced upward to see if Malick had noticed he had stopped. “So, this is where Jonathan spends all of his time,” he laughed. 

Nathan had only visited the caves during school field trips to the museum when he was younger. He didn’t r
emember much about them, just that they were located down the trail and behind the cliffs. Now that he was older, he had no desire to come this far into the forest or to visit the top of the cliffs. He would rather avoid the hike altogether and just hang out by the lake.

Nathan read the sign again and then stood on the tips of his toes to see farther down the trail. “I don’t see an
ything exciting, especially not anything deserving of a Do Not Disturb sign.” He returned to standing flat on his feet. “Jonathan did say all the hoopla was about the new cave symbols.”

“Hey!” said Malick, approaching from behind. “Are you going to stare at that sign all day?

Nathan jumped. “Dude,” he shouted, “you startled me!”

“Sorry; I didn’t mean to,” chuckled Malick, while poin
ting at the sign. He gawked at it and laughed. “I’m sure that’ll keep out the college students.” He gestured with his head and pointed his thumb in the direction of the cliffs. “Are you coming, or what?” he asked. “I’m sure you’ll find nothing exciting over there.”

Soon, the trail to the top of the cliffs became a straight path upward, and the trees on both sides of the trail b
egan to thin out. Nathan followed Malick out of the forest and stood at the top of the cliffs. A gentle breeze of cool air greeted them as the evening sun set behind them. Nathan looked down at the beach and fire pits below and noticed the beach created a half circle around the lake. In front of him, beyond the beach and the large hill, he could see the roof of the Hiking and Camping Center. Beyond that, all he could see were the tops of the many trees that seemed to stretch out towards the horizon. Eager, he stood on the tips of his toes, trying to catch a glimpse of the Cahokia Falls, which he was sure were nestled somewhere off in that direction. A gentle breeze nudged him again. On his right, beyond the trees, was Lawrence Hall, its skyline revealing only a partial view of the IUCF campus.