Look Both Ways (8 page)

There was Mallory, running—her hair pulled back in a nubby ponytail, her sweatshirt tied around her waist. The leaves were green. It was summer beyond the Chaplins’ lawn. Up into the hills Mally magically ascended, and as Merry watched, her hands pressed against the glass—so cool to her palms it seemed real—the scrub trees next to the path parted, and the huge white lion, four times Mallory’s size, stepped out into the path behind her sister. It took a few slow steps, then broke into a lope, slowly gaining on Mallory—who seemed unaware that anything was there.

“Mallory! Siow!” Merry shouted.

She began to hammer the glass, harder and harder.

Mallory didn’t hear her. The lion loped closer, then closer . . . .

“Merry! Wake up! Merry!” Neely was holding Merry’s arms down at her sides. “You’re having a nightmare.”

“I was? My arms . . . are so tired. I don’t feel like I was even really asleep.”

“You were rolling and thrashing around.”

“I’m sorry,” Merry said. “Did I wake anyone else up?”

“No, they’re out cold, and I wasn’t even asleep yet,” Neely said. “Do you want some water or some hot chocolate?” Neely’s hazel eyes, so haughty in daylight, were soft and gentle with concern. “You were crying too, Merry.”

“I’m okay,” said Merry. “It was the Bailey’s. I felt so strange, I must have dreamed I got up.”

But when Merry looked down, her breath stopped for an instant and then began to come faster and faster. For when she put her hands together, she saw that her fingers were bruised, as if she really had pounded madly on panes of glass.

T
he following Sunday was the big fall sidewalk sale, the biggest day of the year at Domino Sports. Mally was out in front, stacking shoe boxes in a pyramid, when she heard a soft voice behind her murmur her name.

Eden.

“Hi,” she said. “Boo. Aren’t you going to run away?”

Mallory shocked herself by starting to cry, making this about five times more than she’d cried in the previous five years.

“Eden, I didn’t mean to.”

Quiet for a moment, Eden nodded. “I know that. I know why you did.”

“But there’s no reason for me to be afraid of you.”

“Well, there is, Mallory. I have to be afraid of the same things about me that you do. But I would never hurt you or your sister or anyone you love. No matter what it cost me. And it could cost me everything.” She held up one hand. “I can’t tell you any more. It’s just like you can’t tell people about you and Merry. Do you trust me?” Eden’s eyes grew darker and brighter, like wet stones.

“Of course I do,” Mallory said.

“Help me find a sleeping bag.”

“I already have one picked out,” Mally told her. “It’s wrapped and in the back.”

“It’s a Christmas present, but I’m so excited I might have to give it to him before. How much is it?” Eden asked. It was filled with two kinds of down and cost $299 on sale. Mallory counted up what was in her own bank account. She was a bit of a hoarder, and Eden couldn’t read minds. “It’s a hundred dollars!”

“Oh, Mallory! That’s less than I thought! How long is it going to take you to stack those shoes?”

“Years. I haven’t even got the ladder yet,” Mally said.

“Well, it helps to have tall friends,” Eden said, laughing as she attacked the four-sided pyramid. “I’m putting the fives on top. Who wears size five? Cinderella?”

“Me,” Mallory admitted.

As they worked, Eden explained, “You know that the cat is a symbol, right? We’re Bear Clan, my family, but the mountain lion is a symbol of power. In the old times, people thought human beings would shift into animals, and that shape-shifters—that’s what they were called—brought luck to the tribe. It’s like mythology. Every tribe has stories like that one. They’re like the stories in the Bible.”

“How,” Mally asked, “did you have any idea I was thinking about the mountain lion?”

Eden sighed. “A guess. You brought up the dream when I talked about James. You know, all people have their superstitions. Your family has superstitions, right?”

“You could call them that,” Mallory said, standing on tiptoe to hand Eden another box.

“Eden,” Tim said. “I was coming out here to help this one finish up the stack but I guess she doesn’t need me.”

“Hi, Mr. Brynn.”

“We’ve got your pretty red sleeping bag all wrapped up in back. Must be one special couple for you to spend—”

“Dad!” Mallory warned Tim.

“Oh, right,” Mally’s father said, without quite knowing why he was agreeing. “Uh-oh. Here come the Delsandros. All five boys. Five bats, five cleats, five jerseys.”

“I’ll be right in, Dad,” said Mallory.

“No, it’s good. The store is pretty quiet otherwise. Mrs. Delsandro’s got a system with those kids. She must assign them numbers, like you get at a deli. Besides them, there’s just Caitlin and Jackie browsing for two hours.”

When the jingle of the door and Tim’s hearty call engulfed Mrs. Delsandro and the five boys, Eden said, “Then you get that it’s not real.”

“The mountain lion? Sure. But I ran because I dreamed about the cougar again just the other night! I dreamed it was in school!” Eden took a deep breath and looked away. “I was scared. There was an accident after I had that dream. And I thought the lion was bad luck.”

“It is bad luck. Some things that are very powerful are also bad luck. But . . . not for you.”

“How do you know?”

“I . . . it’s my superstition. I just know. Can you go just around the corner and get a coffee?” Eden asked. Mallory held up her hands to her father, signifying she’d be back in ten minutes. In the Latte Beans drive-through, Eden ordered two large green-tea lattes, with extra whip. Handing Mally one, she said, “My treat.”

Mallory took a long drink to make sure her voice wouldn’t sound like a rusty door opening.

“Do they want you away from James because he’s not, you know . . . ?”

“Not an Indian? No! But he’s not afraid of them . . . like most people.” Eden laughed but it wasn’t pretty. “Most people think that if my family gets mad they’ll kill them with tomahawks or something. Even you probably, and you’re one of my closest friends.”

“Eden! I’m not like that!” Mallory was reeling from hearing Eden say that she, little Mally, was one of Eden’s closest friends.

“You’d be surprised what people think if you’re not just like them,” Eden said, as Mallory thought,
No, I wouldn’t
. “But yes, the present is a secret. My family doesn’t want me to date anyone! They wouldn’t care if he was Geronimo.”

“Geronimo?” Mallory asked. It was the first time she’d heard the name other than hearing someone in one of Adam’s idiot shows yell it when he was jumping out of a tree.

“The great Apache warrior. Goyaase. Don’t you know any American history but George Washington?” Eden winced. “I’m sorry, Mally. My whole . . . life is getting on my nerves.”

“Tell me about it,” Mally said. “Mine too.”

“Strict is one thing but . . . they’ll go hysterical if I fall in love, ever. It’s not just James.”

“You mean in high school.”

“You’ll never get it,” Eden said with a sigh.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Are you exaggerating?” Eden asked. “Like, how you look right now. You didn’t sleep. You’re so tweaked about something you saw.”

Mally curled a strand of her hair around one finger before she said, “Eden, you’re the best friend I have, except Drew. Or you were. I can’t stand that you don’t like me anymore.”

“What? Of course I like you, Mal,” Eden said. “I just understand why you’d want to avoid me.”

“Avoid you? Edes, you wouldn’t let me apologize.” Eden put her hands over her ears. “Friends don’t lie to each other. I couldn’t tell you that I
didn’t
feel danger from the cat.”

“Don’t, Mallory. Don’t.”

“Okay, I won’t!” Mallory said. Why did any mention of this myth upset her so, if it was only a myth?

“I love James, Mallory. I only get to see him part of the year because he works in New Mexico in spring and summer. But I truly love him.”

“How could you know that when you were only fourteen when you met him?”

Eden smiled slowly and, after a moment of hesitation, reached over and lightly hugged Mallory’s shoulders. She said, “You just know.” Mally made a hoovering noise with her straw. Both girls laughed. “Or maybe not!”

“So you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

Back at the store, Eden and Mally carefully opened a corner of the package so Eden could see the lush heft and color of the sleeping bag. She smiled like she’d been accepted to Harvard.

“Thank you so much, Mal. And don’t worry about the other thing anymore, okay? It scares everyone.”

“You mean, other people have the same dream?” Mallory asked.

“No,” Eden said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“What did you mean?”

“Mallory, can’t you just please stop asking?”

“That’s like telling me to stop caring!”

“Then stop caring!”

“I can’t do that,” Mallory said.

“You’ll be sorry,” Eden said.

Mallory said, “I know that.”

A
fter practice the following Saturday, Eden pulled Mallory aside.

“Do you want to go to a powwow?” she asked.

“I’d go to a luau,” Mallory told her. “I’m sorry, but I need some distraction. Not only did I spend two straight days of twelve hours selling tennis shoes to bratty kids, I had two term papers due and . . .”
And then there was worrying as a second job,
she thought, but didn’t say.

“Well, it’s the harvest powwow, and it’s Friday night. I have to do things for it so I can’t pick you up, but if your dad can drive you, I’ll bring you back the next morning.”
The next morning? Eden is asking me to sleep over?
“Nobody does much sleeping. But bring your sleeping bag!” Eden grinned as she grabbed her towel and shampoo. “You can’t use mine. It’s special!”

“What . . . what should I wear? Do I have to dress up?”

Eden answered, but her words were lost in the rush and shout of the shower. Mallory waited patiently. It was a rank thing that the older girls got to shower first, and the younger ones usually put up with cold water or waited until they got home. Later Eden came outside in a camisole and sweats.

“I didn’t hear you. About what I should wear,” Mally murmured.

“Well, you wear ceremonial clothes, of course. You have ceremonial clothes, right?” Eden asked. Mallory smiled weakly. Eden laughed. “Jeans and a nice shirt, Mally! You goof! And a long coat! Plan on it getting dirty! You’ll be sitting on the ground outside if it’s nice, around a fire.”

“Good deal,” Mallory said.

Tim pulled up then. Mallory made a motion for him to roll down the window and leaned in. “I’m going to . . . I mean, can I go to the powwow at Eden’s house on Friday?” Mally asked.

“I . . . well, I’ll ask Mom, but sure,” Tim said.

“And don’t forget a pillow!” Eden said. “There’s never enough to go around.”

“Why do you need a pillow?” Meredith asked.

“I’m staying over there. I always bring my own pillow.”

“What always? You’ve never stayed—”

“Shut up, Meredith.”

“Don’t talk to your sister that way,” Tim warned her. “Apologize.”

“Sorry, Merry. Sorry that you have a big mouth.”

“My brother Cooper will be home. I haven’t seen him for a year! I’m pumped!” Eden said.

“Where is he?” Mally asked.

“He’s at Boston Flanders.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a prep school,” Tim said admiringly. “Don’t worry. You guys will never go. It’s, like, thirty big ones a year.”

“Not if you’re American Indian. They think so few of us are smart that he gets in free!” Eden said. “You become fluent in a language. You get to travel six weeks every year. Like, to Japan or to Italy.”

“Cool,” Merry said.

“He got a scholarship. He started last year,” Eden said proudly.

“Does he like it?” Tim asked.

“It was really hard for him at first. When you’re from a big family, it’s hard to separate.” Eden began to climb into the truck she called Godzilla, which had replaced her battered blue pickup.

“Okay! Well, I’ll be there!”

As they pulled away, Tim’s phone
brrrr
ed with his tone, “Purple Haze.”

Campbell wanted pizza with no cheese and extra onions.

“Blech,” Merry said. “Can we get some normal pizza too? What’s wrong with Mom? Is she on an ulcer diet?”

“Extra onions?” Tim asked. “That wouldn’t be indicative of an ulcer. No, she’s got a little bug. But it’s temporary. Don’t worry.” Into the cell phone, he said, “Yes, Campbell. I will hurry. The girls are already in the car. We were talking to Eden Cardinal about a powwow. Yes, of course her parents will be there. It’s a family thing, Campbell. Even I know that much.” Tim slipped the phone into his pocket. “How old is Eden’s brother?”

“Sixteen,” said Merry from the backseat.

“How do you know?”

“I texted Alli. She remembers him from her class in middle school. He’s really cute. Or he was then. Maybe he’s fat now.”

“Why do you say such things? Can’t you even keep your cell phone mouth shut? This is about
my
friend, Meredith.”

“Soooorreeeeee,” Meredith said with perfect insincerity. “It’s not like you have that many.”

“No,” Mallory said. “Just the best ones.”

T
he night of the powwow was warm and golden—Indian summer for sure, Mally thought, as her father drove her out past the Catholic Church and down the pitted road that led to Eden’s family farm. Tim couldn’t get too close, because there were cars parked across the road for what seemed like a mile—rows of vans and junky souped-up old Buicks teenage boys would have, and here and there a new Lexus that Tim would have liked to test-drive—all lined up every which way.