Into This River I Drown (20 page)

I shrug. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Benjamin Edward Green!” he hollers as he walks menacingly toward me. “You are still not so old that I won’t bend you over my knee and tan your hide!”

I can’t hold it in anymore and I bellow out my laughter. “I’d like to see you try it, old man.”

He tries to keep the serious look on his face, but gives himself away when his lips twitch. “It’s different here,” he finally says after he’s regained some control.

“What do you mean?”

He looks around the store before his gaze finds me again. “It feels… lighter. Calmer.”

I snort. “They gave you the good meds this time, huh?”

Abe smiles quietly, seeing right through me. “You seem lighter too, Benji.”

“Abe, I think you might be seeing things.” But even I don’t believe my words. I feel lighter, somehow, and I wonder why I’m just noticing it now.

“So, where is he?”

I sigh. “Getting sandwiches from Rosie. She told me to send him from now on because at least
he
doesn’t complain about her egg salad.”

Abe arches an eyebrow. “He hasn’t tried it yet?”

“Oh, he did. He just doesn’t complain to her face about it. He told me it was like eating sadness.” I pause, considering. “Word gets around, I guess,” I say, asking a question without actually asking a question.

Abe nods. “Oh, it does. But nothing but good. People seem to be falling all over your Cal.”

My
Cal. That thought zings right through me. “He’s not mine,” I mutter, feeling heat rising in my face.

Abe watches me with knowing eyes. “Uh-huh. Is that why you’ve got that dreamy look on your face right now?”

I groan. “Abe, it’s not like that.”

“Really? Who are you trying to convince here, boy? Certainly it’s not
me
, because I can see right through your bullshit.”

“I’m not—”

The bell rings overhead. “Benji!” Cal booms, bags in hand as he enters the store. “Rosie gave me pie but your mom’s is better. I almost told her that but then I realized that would hurt her feelings so I said it was the greatest ever.”

“That’s great, Cal,” I say, waiting for the inevitable.

He smiles at me, then seems to notice Abe. “Hello,” he rumbles. He furrows his brow, and I know his mind is firing, making the connection. When he does, a grin splits his face and I know what’s about to come out, regardless of how many times we’ve had this talk.

“Cal,” I say, interrupting him, “this is my friend Abe Dufree. Abe, Cal Blue.” Cal shoots me a look over his shoulder, obviously annoyed that he wasn’t able to tell Abe which moon he’d been born under. I shrug.

“Abe!” he says, moving forward and wrapping the old guy in a hug. Abe squawks in surprise, but then he chuckles and brings his arms around Cal’s shoulders and pats his back solidly. He glances at me over Cal’s shoulder, a wry smile on his face.

“Cal!” he exclaims just as loudly.

Calliel sets him down, then steps back and puts his hands on Abe’s shoulders. “It sure is great to meet you!” he says. “You’re probably the fourth or fifth person I wanted to meet the most. Maybe even the third.”

Abe grins up at the big guy. “Maybe even third?” he echoes. “Then I shall count myself as being blessed.”

“You
are
blessed,” Cal tells him seriously. “Extraordinarily so.”

Abe opens his mouth then closes it, speechless for the first time since I’ve known him.

“And thank you,” Cal continues, his hands still on Abe’ shoulders, “for taking care of Benji as you have. It means more to me than I could ever say.”

Abe shakes his head, and his eyes look brighter. “I didn’t—” His voice cracks and he shakes his head again as he clears his throat. “I didn’t do much,” he tries again. “You’re certainly an odd one, aren’t you?”

Cal glances over his shoulder at me. “I like him,” he says.

I nod, not speaking for fear I’ll break.

He lets go of Abe and picks the plastic bags up off the floor and comes over to me. “Rosie said you need to eat more, and I agree,” he announces. “So you will eat all of the sandwich and the salad I brought, and I will sit here and share mine with Abe and watch you until you finish.”

And he does just that.

“All the mountains here were filled with gold!” Abe says excitedly a little later, talking with the angel like they’re best friends. “And you mark my words, Cal, someone is going to find a nugget the size of your fist up in those hills, and there will be a huge rush of people trying to get rich!”

“I have really big fists,” Cal says, showing Abe and me just how big they really are.

Cal watches me as I put the last bite in my mouth, while he talks to Abe about gold nuggets the size of fists. Then he cleans up our lunch and tells me he’s going to throw it away and take the trash out back while he’s at it. I nod as he pulls the trash bag from the big plastic can near the doors. He winks at me while he walks toward the office in the back.

Abe watches him go. “He’s wonderful,” he says quietly.

I sigh. “You too, huh? Just like most everyone else in town.”

Abe arches an eyebrow at me. “Just like you too, then?”

I shrug and avert my eyes. “He’s my friend,” I say, but who I’m trying to convince, I don’t know. There’s something there, sure, and it sparks in my chest like a mini sun going supernova every time I see him, but it can’t matter. I’m just a guy from a small town in the middle of nowhere who doesn’t plan on doing anything else with his life but what he’s doing now. Cal is… Cal. He’s a guardian angel, for God’s sake. He can’t belong to just one person. He has to belong to everyone, even if they don’t know it. And besides, even if he
could
just belong to one person, it wouldn’t be me.

Abe has known me too long, it seems. “Now you listen here,” he says, his voice stern. “I already know what you’re thinking, and you need to knock it off. You’re a better man than most anyone I know, and you learned that from your father. How do you think Big Eddie would feel if he could see you doubting yourself like this?”

“That’s not fair. You can’t bring my father into—”

The bell tinkles overhead as someone walks into the store.

He’s a young man, probably not much older than me. He’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie, both of which look crusted with filth. His skin is pale and sallow, and his eyes look like heated black coals bored into his skull. He’s twitchy, darting nervous looks around the small store, his hands shoved into the front pockets of the hoodie.

Abe glances at me then back at the man.

“Help you find something?” I ask, keeping my voice level.

The guy shakes his head, pursing his cracked lips, and walks down one of the aisles.

“Security cameras still up?” Abe asks under his breath.

“Yeah,” I mutter, relieved that he feels it too. “Why don’t you head out the front door?”

“And leave you alone?” he says. “Hardly. You got your cell phone?”

“It’s back in the office.”

“Gun?”

Now I feel guilty. “Back in the office. I was cleaning it. Forgot to bring it back up.”

“Of course you did,” he murmurs. “Well, this should be interesting.”

The guy has done a tour of the store, not stopping to pick anything up. I know he’s casing the store, trying to see if anyone else is in here. I don’t know how long he’s been watching outside and whether he saw Cal before he came in. I don’t recognize him, so he’s not a townie. But I
do
recognize the way he’s moving, the rigidity behind his steps, the way he jerks his head back and forth. He’s high, or was high, or has been high on something hard-core. Drugs have never been a problem in Roseland, as far as I’ve seen. Most of the underage kids here resort to cheap beer cadged from their parents’ refrigerators. But you’d have to be blind not to see the signs of a habitual user.

Cal hasn’t come back yet, but that doesn’t mean anything. For all I know, he’s distracted by something outside, as he’s prone to be. Worse, he might have seen a thread that is not my own and been pulled toward it.
It’d be pretty great if my thread was screaming for him about now
, I think.
Or however it’s supposed to work
.

Our new friend licks his lips again as he walks by us, glancing our way before looking out the front to the street. Abe starts forward, as if he’s going to clock the guy from behind, but I grab his arm, shaking my head when he turns to scowl at me. I raise my hand at him, mouthing
wait
. His lips pull together in a thin line.
Cal!
I scream in my head as the guy reaches up and latches the lock on the door.
I could really use your help right about now! If you can see
anything
, see my fucking thread!

Time seems to slow as the lock clicks into place. The guy seems to explode, pulling his hands from his pockets in a jerky motion, a handgun in his right hand. He raises it up, his eyes wide, his hands shaking, mouth moving. “You know what this is! Give me all the fucking money in the register! Do it now!”

“Okay, son, okay,” Abe says, his voice low and smooth. “We all just need to take a deep breath here. No one has to get hurt.”

The guy snarls as he takes a step closer, waving the gun between the two of us. “Shut up, you old fuck!” he cries. “Get the money out of the register before I blow your fucking head off!” He glances behind him, out the front window. The sidewalk is empty this far down Poplar Street. “Where’s the other guy?” he snaps when he looks back.

Shit. “What other guy?” I ask, tapping a button on the register, opening the till drawer.

“The big one! Where’d he go?”

I shake my head, grabbing the bills that make up the hundred or so bucks I’ve got in the drawer. “He left out the back a while ago. Had some errands to run.”

He looks toward the back of the store. It’s empty. “You got a safe back there?” he asks, jerking his gaze back to me.

“Nothing in it,” I tell him. “Bank pickup came yesterday afternoon.”

“Fuck!” he screams. “All I wanted was a fucking hit, man! Traynor
told
me I could get it, that fucking bastard!”

Traynor
. The name is familiar, but I can’t place it right now.

“What did Traynor tell you that you could get?” Abe asks gently.

He swings the gun back and points it at Abe. “I told you to shut the fuck up,” he says coldly. “I will kill you, man. I’ve done worse. I don’t fucking care.”

“I’ve only got a hundred bucks,” I say loudly, trying to get the guy’s attention off Abe and back to me. “It’s yours if you take it and leave now.” I hold it out to him across the counter, both of my hands visible.

He twitches again, the gun coming back in my direction. He takes a step toward me then stops, narrowing his eyes. I can see something stirring in his mind. Whatever it is can’t possibly be good.
Cal!
I scream again. My heart is starting to pick up in my chest and my palms feel clammy. But I’m also pissed, maybe more so than I’ve been in a long time. This is my store. This is my father’s store. He worked his ass off to make sure this place stayed afloat and I’ve done the same since it became mine. Who the fuck does this guy think he is, walking in here, waving that fucking gun around? This place was my father’s. It is now mine. This is my
home
.

“Maybe I don’t believe you,” the man says slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “Maybe I don’t believe you about the safe.”

“The bank comes the same time every week,” I tell him, a sneer on my lips. “Just because you’re tweaked out of your mind doesn’t mean I’m lying to you.”

“Not a good idea to upset the guy with the gun,” Abe mutters.

“There’s no money in the back,” I tell him again, my voice hard. “Either take what I’m offering or get the fuck out of my store.”

“I’ll fucking shoot you, you goddamn asshole!”

“Take the money and get out.”

“Benji,” Abe pleads.

I look the guy straight in the eye and say, “Get.
Out
.”

I think,
Cal
.

I can see it all, those next few seconds stretched out so that they feel like days. His finger tightens around the trigger, the hammer inches back. A bead of sweat drips down his forehead, slides between his eyes and off the side of his nose, leaving a track like a tear under his sunken right eye. His lips tremble. His shoulder shakes. His finger jerks and the gun fires, the sound surprisingly muffled in the store.
Cal
, I think again.

The world around me suddenly darkens with a loud rush, and I smell earth, raw and pungent.

Silence.

Then:

A low snarling noise rumbles near my left ear.

“Holy mother of God,” Abe whispers.

The would-be gunman moans.

I open my eyes, unsure of when I closed them.

It’s dark, which confuses me for a moment. Wasn’t it just daylight? And then I wonder if I’ve been shot in the face and am blind. There’s no pain, but I’ve never been shot in the head before, so I don’t know if it’s supposed to hurt. Maybe I should be relieved there’s no pain. If there is no pain, then there can be no sorrow.

The earth smell hits me again. It’s overwhelming and a lump forms in my throat. I don’t know why.
This earth is my home
, I think, not knowing where it comes from. Then the black ruffles against my face, light and soft scratches. The rumbling near my ear gets louder.
Oh
, I think.
Oh. This? This is…. He’s….

Wings.

The darkness parts in front of me, light forming down the middle and spreading toward my face, the cocoon splitting, the shelter cracking in half. The ruffling of feathers is almost as loud as the rumbling from behind me. They part, the great wings rising above me. Blue. The feathers are so blue, so deep and dark and wonderfully blue that the lump in my throat grows bigger and my eyes burn.

The rumbling turns into a full-on growl and I turn my head to the left. Only inches from me is the face of the angel Calliel, coming slowly into focus. His head is so close to mine I can smell my soap on him, even through the scent of musty earth. The stubble on his head blends into a sideburn that turns into the light beard across his face, a deeper red than I’ve ever noticed before. His eyes look almost completely black. His lips are parted, his teeth bared in fury. The rumbling is coming from him. His chin scrapes my shoulder, and only then do I notice his arms around me protectively, his right across my right shoulder and chest, his left around my waist.