Breathless (2 page)

"Where do you want to me drop you off?" asked Toby. He was pulling his truck onto Route 50, which was as much the main road as anything is in Bramford.

"You're not dropping him off!" I exclaimed. Why was Toby being like this? To Jason,

"You're coming back to my house."

"Azazel," said Toby, "he doesn't want to go there."

"We can't just leave him on the side of the road," I said to Toby.

"I'll be fine," said Jason.

"He says he'll be fine," said Toby.

"Who's after you?" I asked Jason. "Are they dangerous?"

"The less you know about that, the better," Jason said. To Toby, "Anywhere along here is fine."

"Toby," I said, "we aren't dropping him off. We're taking him back to my place. What if something horrible happens to him, and we could have stopped it?"

Toby sighed. "She's right," he said to Jason. "I can't just drop you off. We should take you to the Jones' house." Finally, he was acting like a rational person.

"That's a bad idea," said Jason.

"Well you're not talking me out of it," I said. "I'm pretty stubborn."

Jason looked at me and laughed. It was a short laugh, and it almost sounded as if he were out of practice. Like he didn't laugh very often. "You are, huh?" he asked.

"She is," said Toby.

Jason looked away from me. "Just for a while," he said finally. "I can't stay too long."

* * *

He played poker with his friends on Friday nights. My mom and the guys all dropped whatever they were doing when I brought Jason into the house.

My mom went into mothering mode. She stuck Jason in the bathroom with fresh towels and a change of clothes. While Jason was showering, she heated up some frozen pizza. She shooed the guys and me into Chance's bedroom to put new sheets on the extra bed. Chance was always complaining because I was the only one in the house who got her own bedroom. He always had to share. Our house had four bedrooms. At times, we had as many as three guys in one bedroom, and at Christmas, the house became a crowded madhouse. My older brothers came home. Many of my parents' previous foster children came home. There were guys sleeping everywhere.

On the couches. On air mattresses. On the floors in bedrooms. And the bathrooms were a mess. They were covered with shaving cream and hair gel and bottles of cologne. Guys have just as many grooming products as girls these days.

I was used to the frenetic atmosphere of my house. After we made up a bed for Jason, and the other guys donated various articles of clothing to him, which we piled next to his bed, we all went back to the living room. Toby had stuck around for a little bit, helping my mother in the kitchen to make hot chocolate and set the dining room table.

He joined us too.

The guys couldn't shut up. Chance made Toby and I retell the story of how we picked up Jason at least four times. Nick was convinced that Jason had escaped from prison.

Cameron thought he was a drug dealer and had sold someone bad stuff.

"He says he's not on the run from the police," said Cameron.

"He's lying," said Chance. "Nobody runs like that unless they're on the run from the police."

"Oh, like you'd know," said Nick, shoving Chance playfully. My parents adopted Chance when he was five. He'd lived a pretty normal life, unlike Nick, who had rattled around in the foster system for years. Nick was fifteen, like Chance.

"Whatever," said Chance. "Like you've ever run from the police."

"I have," volunteered Cameron.

"Yeah, but you did it in a car," I pointed out.

"I think he's running from the authorities," said Toby. "I think that Jason guy is bad news."

I glared at him. "Yeah, you wanted to leave him on the side of the road."

"He wanted to be left on the side of the road," said Toby.

"Because the police are after him," said Nick. "That's the only reason he wouldn't want to come back here. If he was running from some guy who bought drugs from him, he wouldn't want us to turn him in."

"I don't think he's a drug dealer," I said.

"Why not?" asked Nick.

"If he dealt drugs around here, why wouldn't we know him? Why wouldn't he go to our school?" I said.

"He doesn't need to go to school, because he makes bank selling drugs," said Cameron.

"No way," I said. "Something bad was after him. He was terrified."

"It was the police," said Toby. "I should just call my dad and ask if there's an APB out on this guy." Toby's dad was the local sheriff.

"Don't you dare," I said to Toby. "I promised him he'd be safe here."

"And for all you know, you're protecting a criminal," said Toby.

"Oh," said Chance pointedly, "hi, Jason."

Jason was standing in the doorway to the living room, wearing a pair of Chance's pants--they were too short--and a t-shirt. His hair was still wet from the shower. He'd shaved. He looked better now that he wasn't dirty, but he still looked flighty, like he might run at any second. His eyes darted around the room, like he was checking for the exit if he needed it.

Toby looked embarrassed. "Hey," he said. "I didn't mean..." He trailed off.

I bounded up from the couch. "My mom's making pizza," I said. "You hungry?" I took Jason's arm and lead him into the dining room.

I gestured to a seat at the table. It had been set with paper plates and napkins. There was a steaming pot of hot chocolate in the center of the table and a cluster of mugs.

Jason stared at the table. "Look, I should go," he said. "I really shouldn't--"

"Sit down," I interrupted him.

He hesitated for another second, but then he sat down.

I smiled at him. "Everything's gonna be fine. You'll see. You want some hot chocolate?"

"Okay," said Jason.

I poured two mugs full of hot chocolate and handed one to Jason. I took the other one and sat down across the table from him.

"So, um, Toby is your boyfriend?" asked Jason.

"Yeah," I said.

"And he thinks I’m a criminal?"

I rolled my eyes. "He'll come around. Don't worry about it."

"I-I'm not," said Jason. "You know. A criminal." His eyes nervously searched the room again. Did he think something was going to jump out and get him at any second?

"It's okay," I said. "It's safe here."

Jason put down his hot chocolate. "No," he said. "It's not."

At that moment, my mother swept into the room, carrying a pizza. Using her amazing mothering skills, she slid the pot holder off her hand and set the pizza on top of it in one fluid movement, all without burning herself. "Jason," she said. "You're out of the shower."

He nodded.

My mother surveyed him. "Chance's clothes are a little too small for you, but he's the biggest of the boys we've got in the house. We'll have to see if Noah left anything in the closet. I think Noah's about your size." Noah was one of my adopted brothers.

"This is really fine," said Jason. "Thank you."

"Oh, please," said my mother. "Anyone who found you would have done the same thing." She turned to me. "Zaza, there's another pizza on the counter. Can you bring it into the dining room for me?"

I nodded and ducked into the kitchen, listening as my mother called, "Boys! Pizza!"

By the time I got back into the dining room with the second pizza, the first one had already been divvied up between the boys at the table. I set the second pizza down amid scrabbling amongst the guys for hot chocolate. Mom and I each took a piece of pizza from the second pie in a civilized fashion.

I sat down and looked across the table at Jason. There were two pieces of pizza on his plate, but he was just staring at them.

"Don't you like pizza?" I asked him.

He gazed around the table, watching the other guys shove pizza into their mouths and tease each other. "I've just never..." he trailed off. "I love pizza." And he smiled. Like the time he laughed, it looked kind of like he wasn't used to smiling. It was a tentative smile. It flashed across his face for a second, lighting him up. Then it was gone. And he dug into the pizza.

My dad came home around then, and my mom took him into the living room to explain the situation. Toby decided to leave. He had his own curfew to make, and he said eating the pizza had made him tired. So finally, all the pizza was gone, and we sat around the table: my parents, Chance, the guys, Jason, and me.

"So, Jason," said my dad, "are you in some kind of trouble?"

Everyone at the table gazed at Jason expectantly.

Jason looked at my dad. "I tried to tell Azazel that I don't think it's safe for your family for me to be here. She insisted I come back here anyway."

"Why don't you think it's safe?" asked my dad.

"The people who are after me are... They can be dangerous. I don't want to lead them here."

"Who's after you?" asked my dad.

"It's someone you sold bad drugs to, isn't it?" asked Cameron.

"Cameron," warned my dad.

"Sorry," said Cameron. Then, as if he couldn't help himself, "Do you sell drugs, though? I mean, Nick and I have a bet."

"That isn't very polite, Cameron," said my mother. "What kind of consequences do you think a comment like that is going to have?"

"Probably unproductive," Cameron sighed.

"Probably," said my mother.

"It's okay," said Jason."I don't sell drugs."

He took a deep breath. "I don't want to give you too many details. That could put you in further danger. But the people who are chasing me, they're...fanatics. They believe what they believe entirely. They're ready to die for it. They're ready to kill for it. And they think I'm in the way."

morningstar68 (12:02:46 AM): He's arrived. as predicted.

michaela666 (12:03:02 AM): is he contained?

morningstar68 (12:03:30 AM): for the moment.

michaela666 (12:04:14 AM): good. your job is to keep him there, then. what about the vessel? is she ready to perform her part of the ritual?

morningstar68 (12:05:04): I had hoped to give her a bit more time. but she can be ready. soon. what's our next move?

michaela666 (12:05:54): for now? We wait. don't let him out of your sight. and prepare the vessel.

My mother furrowed her brow in concern. "Like terrorists?" she asked Jason.

Jason shook his head. "Like Freemasons," he said. "But with guns."

"Freemasons?" I asked. I'd read up on this stuff. I thought it was very interesting. I'd read my copy of
The Da Vinci Code
so many times it was falling apart. "Why do they want you?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"They're crazy," he said. He looked at my father again. "Like I said, I don't want to put your family in danger."

"We should go to the authorities," said my dad.

"No," said Jason. "Trust me. The police can't do anything about this. They wouldn't stand a chance."

"You can't expect us just to let you go back out there," said my mother.

"Where are your parents?" asked my dad.

"Dead," said Jason. "I guess. I never knew them. The people who are chasing me killed the man who raised me. That's when I started running. It was...I don't know, maybe four months ago."

"And you've been on the run ever since?" asked my mother. "That's horrible. Jason, you have to stay with us." She turned to my dad. "Daniel, we can't let him leave."

My dad considered. "Listen, son, if you are in trouble with the law, you can tell us.

We can help."

"They are actually pretty good about that stuff," said Nick.

"I'm not in trouble with the law," said Jason. "I swear."

I believed him.

"Why are these people after you?" asked my father.

"They think I’m something I'm not," said Jason. "It's complicated. It's not important."

"I just don't know," said my dad. "I can't really believe that there are--"

"Dad," I interrupted, "do I have to go and get a dollar bill and point out all the Masonic imagery on it again?"

"No, Zaza, that's okay," said my dad. He considered. "Well, Jason, you're not going anywhere tonight. You'll sleep here. Tomorrow, we'll talk more. We can get this sorted out."

* * *

When I woke up on Saturday, my father and Jason were on a drive together, discussing Jason's situation. I asked my mother if she'd talked to Dad. Would Jason be staying? I wanted him to stay. I didn't know much about him, but I felt protective of him, probably because I was the one who'd found him. My mother said she wanted Jason to stay and she thought my dad did too. After he talked to Jason, it was just a matter of getting everything legally settled. There would be papers to sign and things like that.

I helped my mother clean the dishes after the boys' breakfast. They had demolished a box of frozen waffles. I skipped breakfast. I usually did. Besides, it was already eleven o'clock. I'd slept so late that it was going to be time for lunch soon anyway.

Chance and the guys were out somewhere, probably eating up all the food at one of their friend's houses. I basked in the idea of having the television to myself, and settled down to watch something girly. Twenty minutes into something on E! about fashion, Jason and my dad came back.

My dad and my mom talked in the kitchen. Jason came into the living room and glanced around like he usually did, checking every corner for near danger.

"You want to sit down?" I asked.

He shrugged. Then he sat down on the other couch. He glanced at the television, then back at me.

"We can watch something else," I said.

"This is fine," he said. He looked back at the television. But he didn't relax. He sat up straight on the couch. It looked like he might jump up and make a run for it any minute. He was like a scared rabbit or something. I wondered what had happened to him.

We watched TV without speaking for a while. The E! show ended. I walked over to Jason and gave him the remote control. "You can pick something to watch if you want," I said.