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Authors: Lin Kaymer

Who is Mackie Spence? (11 page)

BOOK: Who is Mackie Spence?
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He flaps a hand in exasperation and takes another sip from his cup.

“If the two of you can't live with this situation then you're no good to this team and you're off. What's it going to be?”

Coach leans back in his chair and looks from Brody to me. His hands shake slightly.

I break the silence first.

“I didn't say yes to Mackie to get to Brody. But I'm going to the dance, and I'll see her for as long as she wants to see me.”

“You're a real douche. But you're not worth me losing my letter,” Brody responds.

“So is this a truce?” Coach asks. “I want to hear it from both of you. And I want to see a handshake and no more crap out of either of you for the rest of the season. Can you do that?”

I sit up straighter and glance at Brody. “Okay. Unless you come at me first.”

Brody looks like he wants to hit me again, immediately, then he relaxes.

“Right,” he says. “Mac will get bored. Like tomorrow.”

“You're not saying the words I want to hear, Mr. Cameron,” Coach says, drumming his fingers on his desk.

Brody stares at Coach like he can't believe he has to say something more, then he grins. “Okay, cool. Let the best man win, you know what I mean. Mac's going to choose me soon enough,” he says.

“Shake hands. Now,” Coach orders and stands up to show he wants us to be done.

I hold out my hand.

Brody takes it, squeezes very hard, and forces a smile.

Most of the guys have hung around in the locker room to find out what happened.

Cole looks at me and asks, “So?”

“We're still on the team.”

Disaster averted. Brody avoids questions by snapping his towel and heading for the showers.

I see Ben, already dressed, lounging on a workout bench.

“Let's go home,” I tell him, pulling my clothes out of my locker and stuffing them in my gear bag. I can take a shower at the house.

As we head out the locker room door to the parking lot I say, “Ben. Thanks. For what you did back there.”


No mas
,” he says, grinning and holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Once home, I trudge upstairs to the bathroom, glad to be by myself. The fight has left me feeling upended and cold, like I might vomit. I look at my face in the mirror, and see a bruise forming where Brody socked my left jaw.

After turning on a small heater in the bathroom to warm the air, I go into my bedroom and pull out a change of clothes and a sweatshirt, then I head into the shower. The hot water eases my tense muscles, but doesn't do much for my racing thoughts. Brody won't just walk away. He'll fester under Coach's no-fight ruling; maybe even make it through part of the season. But I know Brody wants to come after me. And a big part of me wants to do the same thing to him.

After the shower, I rub arnica gel on my jaw and my aching ribs and then slide into my clothes. Hopefully, the gel will reduce the bruising. And the pain.

I hear Mom arrive home from Seattle, and then Justin's feet pounding up the stairs. When Justin is in his room, I move like a snail down the steps, debating whether Mom might have already heard about the fight. Or maybe she's heard from Mrs. Spence about Sadie One.

She might know everything. The island's Moms Network runs deep. My mom knew about the police bust at Spooner's within minutes of Ty texting me. It's hard to do anything without someone's mom or dad knowing about it.

But when I walk gingerly into the kitchen, trying to act like nothing is wrong, Mom just recruits me to help with dinner.

I sit on a bar stool at the counter cutting tomatoes when she notices the bruise on my jaw.

“Where did you get that? At school?” she asks, looking closely at my face.

“Ah, yeah. Brody and I sort of ran into each other. It's nothing.”

“How did that happen?”

“Uh, we were fooling around and fell down.”

“You boys need to be more careful. You could have broken a tooth. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No. I'm okay. Really.”

Dad comes in, sniffs the air, and raises his eyebrows at Mom.

“Chicken and noodle casserole,” Mom says.

“Mmmm. So how are things going here?” Dad asks her, patting her arm.

“I was looking at a bruise that Jeremy has near his mouth. He and Brody got a little wild at school today,” Mom replies. I was hoping not to have to go over this with Dad.

Dad waits for me to speak.

“We, ah, fell down,” I explain.

“People don't just spontaneously fall down,” Dad says. When I don't respond he says, “Jeremy, take some time to think about what happened and how it could have been avoided.” He doesn't understand. It will get worse if I let Brody push me around.

I finish the salad, set it on the table, and return to my room. The casserole will take more time to warm before it's ready to eat, and I want to talk with Mackie. She should be home from the shelter. Stretching out on my bed, I send:

can U talk

She replies:

Dinner now. Later?

My reply:

sure

Justin eases into my room and waits next to my desk.

“What's up?” I ask.

“You are cordially invited to dine with the family,” Justin announces in a formal voice, bowing low. He definitely is watching too many old movies.

“Okay, I'll be down,” I reply, and slip my phone into my pants pocket after he leaves the room. I don't want Justin to see how much it hurts me to get up. He would have questions. Maybe even ask them in front of Mom and Dad.

I am seated at the table with my mouth full of casserole when Mom turns to me.

“Jeremy, is there anything else you want to tell us?”

Seeing her face, I know that she isn't referring to the fight. She looks way too happy.

“Ah, Mackie asked me to Sadie One,” I say, spearing some salad with a fork.

“You're going to Sadie with Mackie! That's wonderful! When did she ask you?” Mom can barely contain herself.

Oh, this could be a problem. Mackie asked me to the dance three days ago, and I didn't mention anything to them.

“Not long ago,” I reply.

Dad and Justin look at me like I have some explaining to do. Sadie One isn't computing for them.

Mom beats me to it, speaking fast. “You remember this from last year, right? Jeremy went to Sadie Two. Sadie One is the first of two fall dances. Each dance has music from a decade in the last century. Sadie One is fifties music. After Sadie, the boys ask the girls to Steve One. That will be a sixties dance. Jeremy, I could show you some steps,” she offers.

“Uh, the Dance Club puts on a clinic the first half hour. I think I'll be okay.”

I don't want her too into this. That would mean one full week of more attention than I can handle. She really bugged me last spring when Cat Morley asked me to the Sadie Two disco dance, and I don't want a repeat of her trying to get me enthused about dancing.

“You know, I thought Mackie was dating Brody. What happened there?” Mom asks, frowning.

“Don't know,” I say. “She stopped seeing him after the accident.”

“So does that bruise have anything to do with you going with Mackie to the dance?”

“He seemed a little ticked off,” I say, hoping it would be enough.

“You were in a fight today over Mackie?”

“He thinks she's still into him, even though he's seeing Jilly Parker now.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

“Coach told us to knock it off.”

This gets Dad's attention. “Are you on probation?” he asks.

“No. Coach made us promise to leave each other alone. So I guess it's over,” I say then fill my mouth with casserole.

“ ‘I guess it's over?' ” Mom asks, in her college instructor's voice.

I take a while to swallow. “Yeah, I guess it's over.”

“Fighting isn't like you, Jeremy. What happened?” Mom continues.

“No blood was spilled. Coach didn't kick us off the team. Can I just finish dinner?” This comes out sounding whiny, not the best way to get my mom off the subject.

Mom and Dad exchange ‘The Look' that I've never been able to decode. It seems to end the discussion, though, because they don't ask more questions.

After dinner I put my plate in the dishwasher and slowly walk upstairs to finish my homework.

Fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzes. It's Mackie.

“Hi,” she says. “I heard about the fight. Are you okay?”

I feel a lot better hearing her voice.

“Yeah, I'm fine. It wasn't bad. Coach stopped us before anything really happened.”

“I should have known Brody would go after you. This is my fault. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault. Brody has a short fuse. Hey, what happened at the shelter today?”

“Some people were out on Locke's Pass and saw an eagle lying on the north shore. They called it in. Gabe drove over to pick him up, and I rode along. Gabe said he was cut like he'd been in a fight with another eagle.”

“What happened when the bird saw you?”

“Not much, because he was so bad off. At first Gabe thought he was stunned or playing dead, but his wounds are serious. We brought him back to the shelter, and Gabe logged him as Number 27. He's by himself in one of the recovery cages. Tomorrow I'll try to spend time with him.”

“Wow,” I say, wishing I could have been there, too. “What did Number 26 do?”

“She was up and flying. She called out a few times. He tried to answer. Gabe said they had probably figured out some things about each other.”

“Probably a lot,” I say. “At least each other's sex and age. Did she get a look at him?”

“I don't know.”

“How old is he?

“He's young, still a juvenile.”

“Where's he injured?”

“He can't extend one of his wings, and his feet and the top of his head were covered in blood.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely a fight,” I say, thinking that I was lucky today with Brody compared to Number 27's fight.

“So, it's serious,” I say.

“Yeah. Doc came right away.”

“Hmmm. When you were on your way to find him, did you feel the same kind of connection that you had with the orca?”

“It's always the same, but a little different, too. It wasn't strong today. He was in shock and couldn't even look at me. And I don't feel tired like I was after the orca. Maybe how large the animal is makes a difference.”

This is something that hadn't occurred to me.

“So, what did you feel today?”

“I was being pulled, but not like with the orca. Not even close. Still, when we were at the shelter, it was hard to leave him.”

“What does that mean?”

She's quiet for a few seconds.

“Remember when I told you the orca pulled me along and I felt like I was in a vacuum? I have that same feeling with other animals. It always seems like I'm pulled through an air stream before I make contact with them.”

According to everything I know about science and animals, consistent commonalities have significance. Feeling pulled along like she is in a vacuum has something to do with every incident. And only Mackie can feel it. I've never felt anything like that at the shelter by myself, when Mackie and I have worked together, or when we were with the orca.

She interrupts my thoughts.

“I feel really bad about this thing with you and Brody. Where did he hit you?”

“It's nothing. Don't worry.”

“I'm worried.”

I'm not thinking about Brody. I care about Mackie. Will she ever tell me everything about this connection she has with animals? But I have homework. Reluctantly, I say good night and hang up. My jaw aches from Brody's fist.

CHAPTER 6

Mackie sits next to me every day at lunch, and we walk to our afternoon classes together. I can't seem to get enough of being with her.
Does she feel the same way about me?

Wednesday, as we leave the Dining Hall, she says, “Doc was in yesterday. He told us Number 27's wounds are healing. Did you know that eagles have a high rate for infection after being in a fight?”

“Yeah, we've had other eagles brought in that ended up being really sick. Two didn't make it. Can you tell whether he's getting better because of you? Like how you knew that the whale was better?” I ask.

“Yes. But it's different with Number 27 than it was with the whale. I think the orca knew what was happening. That I could help him. With Number 27, I need to wait for him to connect. It might be all the sedatives.” She pauses, and sighs. “But he's going to be fine.”

After dinner, I run to Mackie's house and we translate our French assignment. Noelle checks us out as we sit together on the couch, but leaves us alone.
Maybe Mackie said something to her?

Actually, it has been a great week in many ways. Brody has calmed down, and hasn't bothered me at practice. Or, maybe he's just ignoring me. That's just fine. I've always thought of cross-country as my second favorite sport after soccer, but now, running distance feels great. Tuesday, we had interval training on the track, 600s broken up by 200s. Then, even with Brody running next to me, Wednesday's practice went well. The team ran for about forty minutes, followed by a coaching clinic.

Now it's Thursday and Coach holds his hand up to give us instructions in the locker room. “Gentlemen, today we run a fartlek.” Like always, there are a few snickers. Coach doesn't look amused. “Remember, at the end of every quarter mile you run a fifteen second sprint. Use the wooded trail route, and follow our markers. No cheating. I want to see every one of you breathing hard when you get back here. Forty minutes.” He looks at his watch. “Starting now.” Coach holds the door open as we sweep out into the bright sunshine.

I begin running at an easy pace, thinking how much more interesting my life has become. Mackie is definitely the reason. Thirty minutes in, I hear footsteps pounding up fast behind me. It's Ben, grinning like a madman. He tries to pass me and we mock-race each other back to school. Later, I feel so tired I fall asleep before my head hits my pillow.

BOOK: Who is Mackie Spence?
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