The Lie Spinners (The Deception Dance) (40 page)

“
Um,
yeah, arm cramp” I say, shaking out my arm. Deciding that was
all it was, I’m wide awake and there’s no way that I
could have a prophecy about the past. I seriously do need to wake up
and get moving on my plan. I squeeze Stephen’s hand once before
pulling mine away.

“
Nathan,
I had guessed that you weren’t taking the pills, but this
confirms it.” Polite Goon calls, “When you get out of the
water we’re going to talk about what you do with your pills.”

Stephen
throws up his hands, “What do you think I do with them?”
he calls back.

“
That
stops now. No more ‘side-profit,’ that is The Spider’s
orders. Because I need you, I’m going to assume that you didn’t
hear that order. You understand me?”

“
Yes,
sir. Never again,” Stephen says. He takes a few strides into
the ocean and dives under.

I
glance back at Kasem, giving a silent apology, and then I dive after
Stephen. The water feels so warm that my brain keeps reasoning: you
must be in a
bath;
the ocean is a cold, cold place.
I
could get used to this
,
I think as I breaststroke through clear, lightly salty, warm water
toward the horizon. Three jet skis zoom around a couple
paddle-boarders and a single kayak as they paddle past. Further out
speedboats whizz by and colorful fishing boats lumber past or sit, to
cast their nets in the still water.

“
Hello,”
Stephen says, floating up on his back beside me.

“
Hi,”
I say, dog-paddling in place, my eyes still on the horizon.

“
Come
take my hand, we will float away together,” Stephen says with a
smile while circling me doing backstroke.

I
know I should say something dismissive like:
you
can drop the act now Kasem can’t hear you
.
But I don’t, I say, “Dangerous words.”

“
Living
is dangerous,” says Stephen.

He
can’t be… serious?
Outside
of giving me the vital information I need to find May today, Stephen
has barely said a word to me in the last twenty four hours, ever
since the conversation where I completely admitted I have
inappropriate feelings for him.
He’s
teasing me, he knows I have feelings for him and he’s teasing
me. What a… boy.

“
You’re
too young for me to float away with,” I say, splashing him as
he does another circle-lap around me.

“
Last
time I checked, I’m too old for you,” he says.

“
Not
by my reasoning,” I say, “The last guy I made out with
was spawned during the big bang…or something like that…so
you’re like a fetus in comparison.”

“
Wait
a second here,” Stephen says, “Are you asking me to
make
out
with you?”

I
splash him again and don’t stop splashing. Arms wrap around me
from behind and Stephen whispers in my ear, “Ha! I swam under
you.”

Laughing,
I try to wiggle out of his arms but Stephen grabs my side and starts
tickling me.

“
Stop!
No tickling! No tickling! You’ll drown me!” I shout,
diving down and kicking him in my mad fight to get away from his
hands. He grabs my leg and keeps tickling.

While
I squirm and fight to get away from the merciless tickling, I surface
to see one of the far off Jet skis turn and head toward us.

As
Stephen yanks me in by my ankle I pull my new shell ring off my
finger under the water and drop it.

“
Wait,
stop.” I say, “Shoot!”

Stephen
stops tickling me and puts up his hands. “Stopping. What?”

“
I
dropped my new ring!” Taking a deep breath I dive down and
search the ocean below me, grateful that shells litter the sandy
floor.

Coming
up for air, I gasp in a couple breaths then make as if I’m
diving again.

“
What
is going on?” Polite Goon shouts from the shore.

“
Dropped
my ring!” I shout back.

“
I’ll
get it!” Stephen yells. The almost-smile he gives me makes me
think that he probably at least has some idea what I’m up to,
or that I’m up to something. Stephen dives and in the same
moment I break into a furious freestyle, swimming for the approaching
Jet Ski.

Someone,
likely Polite Goon, shouts behind me but I don’t slow down
until I’m a foot away from the Jet Ski. The girl sitting on it
reaches down her hand; I grab it, climb on, and we take off while I
gasp in air. When I look back I see Stephen turning from the spot
where I climbed on the Jet Ski and swimming for the shore; he chased
me, good.

Polite
Goon sprints along the beach, directly alongside us.

“
Thank
you!” I shout over the wind as I grab the back of the Jet Ski
and hold on (for dear life).

This
girl drives fast; I’ll say that for her.

“
This
is the strangest thing I have ever done,” the girl calls back
with a thick Russian accent. We weave among the other watercrafts,
probably going thirty or forty miles per hour.

It
takes only minutes for us to pass my hostel and the beach it sits on;
somehow, Polite Goon still runs beside us. After another couple of
minutes I know that he has to be running like forty miles an hour,
since he’s on the shore and he’s keeping up.

I’m
such an idiot. After what Stephen said, I did not account for Polite
Goon having power-or power more than moving things with his mind
.
He’s
obviously not limited to a single spell.

“
Can
we go any faster?” I shout-ask the girl.

Her
wet blonde hair whips back as she yells, “Hold on!” and
accelerates.

My
butt slams back into my hands, which grip the handles at the back of
the seat.

When
the girl leans over the front of the Jet Ski wind bombards my face,
stinging my eyes. For a few moments the ride feels completely smooth
and I’m sure we’re airborne, hitting the water confirms
this a second later. My leg jerks back and the handle I grip rams
into my thumb, but I stay on. A wall of white spray shoots up in both
directions; that, plus the wind, makes it impossible to check if
Polite Goon still keeps pace with us.

It
has to be some kind of super speed self-transformation spell! He has
to have power—more than just leakage, The Spider must have
found a way to power-up his goons somehow.

The
girl slows the watercraft after several minutes of going that speed
and turns, still probably going fifty mph, to the shore. Our back
spins out but I have to give it to her, she’s one hell of a
getaway driver.

We
must have managed to lose Polite Goon somewhere; he’s not
anywhere on the long stretch of beach.

“
You’re
not some fugitive I just helped escape are you?” She asks,
sounding more exasperated than frightened.

“
No,”
I say, “I promise, no. And again, thank you!”

“
I
almost did not come; it was so strange, you handing me that note with
detailed instructions and money,
in
my drink.”

“
I
know,” I say, “I’m sorry about that.”

“
Here
we are, Thongsala. The pier is less than a mile down that road; that
one you can see there. My heart is still racing. This is the most
dangerous thing I have ever done,” she says.

If
only I could say the same. If only.

The
girl drives the watercraft right up onto the beach. I jump off and
pull wads of baht out of each of my pockets, everything I’ve
earned at the club plus some of the money I had from before. “I’m
sorry the money is wet,” I say.

When
I hand her the wads of baht she hands me a key. She points to a
motorized scooter bike on a dirt road just beyond the beach and says,
“It’s that one, the gas tank is full. You know how to
drive that kind of motorbike right?”

Oh
yes,
I know how to drive a scooter. But I don’t answer; I just spin
on my heel and immediately sprint to it, aiming one more, “Thank
you! Take off before he runs up.” over my shoulder. I hear the
watercraft speed off right before I jump on the scooter, start it up
and drive.

****

I
park in front of the house Stephen gave me directions to. After
driving down several dirt roads and into central Koh Phangan (in my
bathing suit and barefoot), I’m really hoping that this house
is the right place.

Wood
walls, check. High angular sloping blue tiled roof, check. On stilts,
check.

I
glance around at its neighbors; long line of houses that have all
those attributes neighboring it, check.

Across
the path hopefully lies the large seed pod (by large I mean seed-pod
for giants) that Stephen told me would mark the right house; rather
than a pod that fell from one of the many tropical trees that
surround everything around here.

Climbing
off the bike, I take a shaky breath.

Please,
please, please help this work. And please let Stephen and Kasem find
my note that says: I’ll be back in two hours. And please let
Stephen convince Kasem to wait for my return rather than inform The
Spider that I’m missing.

I
send my multitude of ‘
pleases’
out to the universe and step over the seed pod. The wood-slat steps I
ascend up to the second story entrance creek a protest with every
step I take. A glass door at the top of the stair slides open before
I knock. For a second I think that someone opened the door with their
mind, but peeking my head in the house I see May standing behind a
curtain.

“
Please,
come in,” she whispers.

When
I enter, she immediately slides closed the glass door and the thick
white curtain over it. Instantly I’m overwhelmed with the scent
of peanuts, fish, oil and spices; and below the food scents there’s
a stronger incongruous aroma, sulfur.

“
Welcome,”
May says, “Please,” she gestures to the living area;
saying, “My home is your home. I was too nervous to eat; but
now that you are here, will you eat with me? And can I get you a
shirt?”

“
Please,
sure,” I say.

When
she smiles and walks into another part of the house, I peer around.
The wood walls of the living room shine with a bright blue stain,
they’re short, ending about six feet up where a two foot
lattice edge circles the room and shines with the outside light.
Above that a wood slat ceiling slopes up at a severe angle into a
central peak.

A
long line of photos interrupt the blue of the walls and circle the
room; the dancing figures in the photos are dimly silhouetted
outlines, the real focus is the red, orange and white lines of fire
that radiate from them. Some photos have several dancers, some only a
single fire-streaming figure. The effect of the pictures makes me
feel as though I’m the fire dancer, weaving a web of fire.

Below
the photos, blue triangle mats line neatly along one wall where a
low-standing antique-looking table stands central. I sit on the long
part of the mat closest to the table and lean against its upraised
triangle section.