I Will Save You (28 page)

I fell to the ground.

When I opened my eyes he was standing in front of me, smiling and breathing hard, pointing the gun at my forehead.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “Look at Special showing a little fight for once in his life. Maybe we could’ve used you in the revolution after all.”

He backed up a step and recocked the gun. “But it’s a little too late for that now.”

I sat up, breathing hard.

Staring into the barrel of his gun.

“I’d end this little melodrama right here, but I need you to witness one more thing.” He started laughing. “Want a hint? It involves a certain disfigured blonde. I’m gonna do her just like your dad did you and your mom.”

“If you ever—”

“What?” he interrupted. “What are
you
gonna do, Special?”

I didn’t say anything.

My heart was pounding a mile a minute. Warm blood trickling down the back of my neck from where he hit me.

“Now, I want you to close your eyes for me,” he said.

I kept looking at him.

“Close them!”

I closed my eyes, waited for what else was gonna happen. Picturing his finger bending the trigger. The explosion. My thoughts and everything else disappearing. Like being hit by a train. This body dead. Forever.

But there was no explosion.

Just the quiet park.

I peeked open my eyes, spotted Devon sprinting out of the park.

I jumped to my feet, chased him across the road, yelling his name. I chased him past closed storefronts and the railroad crossing, toward Birmingham. Chased him down Manchester and Montgomery. When he cut across Liverpool and hopped a fence I hopped it, too, chased him through somebody’s backyard. He leapt over the back fence, into a dirt alley. I was right behind him.

He ducked into another yard and a dog came loping out of a garage, barking, and lights went on in the house. I chased
him over the opposite fence, through another yard and back into the street.

He kept looking at me over his shoulder, smiling like it was all a video game, like when we were kids at Horizons.

I ran as fast as I could to catch up, but I felt myself losing ground, losing everything.

He cut up Oxford.

By the time I rounded the corner he was gone.

I stood there for a second, in the middle of the road, sucking in breaths and looking around.

But there was no sign of Devon.

Anywhere.

I jogged up and down the entire street. Put my head over fences, checking people’s yards. I looked down back alleys, into house windows, behind bushes. I ran all the way up to the gas station, peeked my head under the freeway bridge. But Devon was nowhere.

Since there was nobody under the bridge at all I went down there, looked around for something of Devon’s. I sifted through abandoned clothes, broken bottles, fast-food wrappers. I kicked up blankets.

Then I noticed something.

The book Olivia had given me. The one by the Japanese author with the “100% Perfect Girl” story. It was just sitting there, leaning against the cement. Devon had stolen it right out of my tent.

I picked it up and looked at it, brushed off the dust. Then I walked onto the bridge and sat there trying to catch my breath, staring at the passing cars, my feet dangling over the edge.

I fingered the swelling on the back part of my head, trying to think about everything that had just happened, and what Devon said about my family, and him hitting me and pointing his gun, and Olivia saying we only had one more time together.

I gripped the book in my hands and watched the freeway cars, so worried about my life and worried how everything was gonna end.

I went to Mr. Red’s tent
early the next morning, waited with Peanut as usual, but he never came out. When I tapped on his tent there was no answer. Just to make sure, I unzipped his door a little and peeked inside.

Just his empty futon mattress.

I tried to work like everything was fine, but I couldn’t. It felt weird without Mr. Red. And my mind wouldn’t stop flashing back to me and Devon’s fight. I kept hearing his words echoing through my head, again and again. Kept feeling the gun smashing against the back of my head and blood dribbling down my neck.

I did some of the regular jobs like cleaning the bathrooms and sweeping outside Campsite Coffee and emptying all the trash barrels. But one sentence from Devon made it impossible.

How he said my mom did it to get away from me.

To escape from me.

I kept thinking back to us in our old apartment. And there were signs she loved my dad more than me. Every time he left she’d get so depressed and never leave her bed. She’d forget to take me to school. Forget to go shopping for food. Sometimes I’d go in and check on her, and she’d wave me away.

What if Devon was right, I thought.

What if she didn’t do it to save me, but to get away.

I stopped working, put away my gear in Mr. Red’s shed and went in Campsite Coffee. I tried looking at magazines. Found an article in the paper about the grunion and Lea even cut out this picture they had from last year: the silver fish
completely covering the sand and everybody standing around in the dark, watching it.

I stared at the picture and listened to Lea explain it. But I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept going back to Devon’s words.

After I thanked Lea, I left the coffee shop and went looking for Devon. I searched the rest of the day, and most of the night, but I never found him.

When I got back to my tent I tried to write about Olivia leaving, but I had writer’s block again. I couldn’t even put one word.

I pulled out the book she’d given me, turned to the story about the 100% perfect girl and read it over and over.

Peanut snoring by the door.

The ocean sound outside my tent.

Eventually I shut off my flashlight, closed my eyes.

The only reason I could fall asleep was I knew Olivia wasn’t staying the night at the campsites. She was safe somewhere else, with her family.

On the morning of the grunion
I woke up early, and even though it was the weekend I went to Mr. Red’s tent with Peanut. I tapped on his door and peeked inside. It was still empty.

I was just standing there, worrying that something serious might’ve happened to him, like maybe he was in the hospital, when I heard his voice behind me.

“There he is!”

I spun around, saw Mr. Red walking toward me with a RadioShack bag.

“Mr. Red.”

“Big guy. Long time no see.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” he said. “Listen, I just went by your tent. I have something for you.” He handed me the bag.

I reached inside, pulled out a brand-new iPod. I looked back up at Mr. Red. “What is it?”

“What does it look like?”

“An iPod.”

He gave me a thumbs-up. “Way to put your clues together.”

“But it’s not my birthday or anything.”

“I know. It’s my way of saying thanks.” He pulled off his beat-up sombrero, ran his fingers through his hair and put it back on. “I appreciate you looking out the other night.”

I nodded and checked out the iPod.

“Already downloaded a bunch of songs at the store,” he said. “My own personal selections. Should be good to go.”

“I’ve never had one before.”

Mr. Red smiled, took the bag from me and crumpled it up. “Go ahead and test it out.”

I pulled it out of the package, put the plugs in my ears and he showed me how to make it play. His Bob Marley phone song came on. I looked up at him, smiling.

“You like that, right?” He peeked down at his watch, then pulled one of the buds from my ears. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, I’m supposed to set an example. And the other night. Man, I really took a step back.”

He held out his hand and I shook it.

“Bill the Deacon had me in meetings all day yesterday. It helped, I think. A guy can’t do everything on his own, Kidd. That’s what I realized. Sometimes I’m gonna need to lean on friends. Like you and Bill.”

We let go of our handshake.

I thought if I should tell Mr. Red about Devon now. And his gun. And how he said he was gonna do something to Olivia. I opened my mouth to explain it, but for some reason I couldn’t get the words out.

He reached down to pet Peanut. “This old dog gets uglier by the day, doesn’t he?”

I looked at Peanut.

Mr. Red was scratching him behind the ear. Then he stood up and looked at his watch again. “Okay, big guy. I’m off to get a haircut.”

“You’re cutting your hair?” I said.

He nodded. “Cleaning up my act. Got a day date with Maria.”

I looked up at Mr. Red. “You do?”

“We’re going on a long walk in OB, before she heads to her sister’s birthday party.” He slipped his hands in his pockets, said: “You might be surprised to hear this, but I’m gonna ask if we can get back together.”

“You’re gonna be with Maria again?”

He nodded. “If she’ll have me.”

“She will,” I said, feeling happy for the first time in two days. “Everybody at Horizons always said how in love with you she is.”

“Yeah?” He nodded his head. “Let’s hope I didn’t wait too long.”

“You didn’t,” I said.

He stood there a second, like he was thinking, and then he said: “A guy said something in one of those meetings yesterday. Said people like us, the ones in the meeting, we tend to push away the people we love most. Without even knowing we’re doing it. He said it’s our way of protecting them.”

Mr. Red looked at the ground, shaking his head. “But a man shouldn’t push away his woman, Kidd. He should
take care
of her.”

I pictured Olivia and felt proud ’cause that’s exactly what I was gonna do.

“From now on,” he said, “I’m gonna try to be that better kind of man.”

He shook my hand again and got in his Bronco.

After he backed out of his spot, he waved and drove toward the campsite exit.

•  •  •

In the time I had left before me and Olivia’s last time together I did two things.

First I went to a bunch of stores looking for a sombrero for Mr. Red. I figured since he got me an iPod I could get him a new hat.

It took me a long time to pick one, though, since I didn’t know what he liked. His old one was so worn out you couldn’t tell what it used to look like. I went to five surf shops and looked at them. The only one I skipped was the store where Devon got caught shoplifting.

The last place I checked was this store called Hanson’s in Encinitas. It was next to the train station where me and Olivia caught the train to Torrey Pines Beach.

Right when I walked up to the rack of hats this one sombrero fell to the ground in front of me. I picked it up, trying to picture it on Mr. Red’s head.

A saleslady walked over and said: “Excellent choice.”

I thanked her and took the sombrero to the counter and paid for it.

Just as I left the store I saw a Coaster coming. I ran up to the platform and caught it. I don’t even know why. I rode it all the way to Olivia’s stop, hiked the same footpaths, sat on the same rock, and looked out over the same section of ocean.

I put on my new iPod and pushed play and let the music go all over my thoughts.

I took out Olivia’s book and reread “The 100% Perfect Girl” two more times. I was finally starting to realize what I thought.

When I finished reading I opened my philosophy of life book to a blank page and took the cap off my pen.

I sat there awhile, thinking about me and Olivia’s kiss and the story she told me about her port-wine stains and how she didn’t wear her hat to dinner. I thought about bad stuff, too, though. How I’d probably only see her one more time. And how after that we’d go back to our separate lives. And then I thought about Devon saying he was gonna do something to her. And how he wanted me to watch.

I started getting worried all over again.

Maybe it was good Olivia was leaving. I only had to watch her one more night.

For some reason I flipped back to the beginning of my philosophy of life book, started reading the first entry about me and Devon looking for a place to pee. It was so weird to read what I’d written to myself, and how I used “Dear Kidd,” and how it made me remember what was happening at the time I wrote each thing.

As I read through the rest of my book, I realized how much calmer it made me. And less alone. It was like reading letters from a friend. I stopped thinking about Devon and his threats, and I stopped thinking about Olivia leaving me. I stopped worrying.

I just sat there, listening to Mr. Red’s music.

And reading my old words.

And when I got to the very end something amazing happened. I became inspired.

I looked out over the beautiful blue ocean and started the Bob Marley song over. I turned to a blank page. And for the
first time since I met Olivia I actually wrote about her in my book. The words just flowed out of me.

And fifteen minutes later, when I took a break to read it over, I didn’t even wanna tear it out.

I just kept writing.

’Cause it was exactly what I wanted to say.

I was on the cliff
with Olivia, both of us in hoodie sweatshirts and flip-flops, waiting for the grunion to run like all the papers and news-show people talked about. Mr. Red and the campsite surfer guys and Blue and Jasmine, and everybody’s parents, were on the sand so they could be right there when it happened.

Me and Olivia looked down at them, and all the other random people, and I pictured those fish already swimming together in swarms under the choppy ocean water, way out past the kelp beds, having no idea about the swarms of humans waiting for them onshore.

“This is such a great spot,” Olivia said. “It’s like having box seats on Broadway.”

“I know,” I said.

Olivia sat in one of Mr. Red’s chairs we’d set out. We’d put them right near the old part of the fence so we could still see the beach and the waves and the sand when it turned silver.

She reached in her backpack and pulled out a shopping bag, tapped the chair next to hers. “Come sit,” she said.