Rewrite Redemption (41 page)

By the time we reached the aspen grove, the sky had exploded into a riot of colors. Dawn was approaching fast. We needed to hurry. I didn’t want to be caught in broad daylight with at least one psycho still out there. I realized I’d never looked back to see if Joe had gotten up. The only thought on my mind had been saving A.J. I looked over my shoulder, searching for Joe, but the meadow was empty. “I don’t see him,” I said. “I think we made it. You okay?”

“I am now,” she said, hugging her arms tightly around me. “I’m a little shaky, but otherwise in one piece, thanks to you and the Indian.”

I put my hand over hers, where she clutched my waist. “We owe the Indian,” I said. “He saved our lives.”

An old Led Zeppelin tune
played in the distance. I could barely hear it. It was the only sound in the upcoming dawn other than the hiss of our labored breathing. We slowed the horses to a walk, and I jumped down, leaving her riding.

The Indian leapt off his horse with a huge grin. He was having fun. I suppose at that point, we could have turned into walruses, and it wouldn’t have fazed him. It had been a smooth save. We were all juiced.

I looked up at A.J. on the horse in her
SpongeBob
pajamas, and I had a sudden hit of the incredible irony of the situation. Somehow, for that moment in time, it seemed
funny,
frickin hilarious…like some kind of spoof comedy instead of a real life and death drama. I let out a burst of insane laughter, my lungs hurting, and my heart still pounding out of my chest.

A.J. looked at me in surprise. I shrugged my shoulders, and after a second, she began to smile hesitantly, and then she giggled. I tried to control my snickering. But when I reached up to lift her down and saw the
SpongeBob
pajama legs and the bedroom slippers against the finely woven Indian blanket; I dissolved into hysterical laughter. “
Sssponge Bbbob
,” I snorted, arms across my stomach to keep the stitch in my side from aching.

She looked down and then at me and burst out laughing as well. Soon tears were running down both our faces. We were charged. I think it was the enormous relief of having escaped combined with an extreme amount of adrenaline coursing through our veins. A minute ago, we were dead meat. I was facing down a gun with my arms held out. Now, we were safe…
she
was safe. I was just so jazzed; it made me a little psycho.

The Indian even laughed as we led the horses deeper into the aspen grove. He let out a whoop and raised the rifle in the air. He didn’t know
SpongeBob
but he knew the relief of escape. And he seemed to have a sense of humor. The guy was okay.

I set A.J. on the ground, and she walked beside me, hand in mine. Slowly we regained our equilibrium. After we’d walked about twenty yards into the grove, I motioned to the Indian to stop. I ran my hand down the white bark of a large aspen, feeling the power of its connection to the matrix.

“This is good,” I said.

She bit her bottom lip and gave me the sweetest smile. Her cheeks were flushed. Her amber eyes sparkled. Her hair was all wild and tangled around her. She looked radiant and more alive than anyone I’d ever seen. She was beautiful. “We’re going home,” she said.

A wave of longing flowed through me, followed by a sharp jolt of reality. Home, right—Boulder and Ipod. Suddenly, things weren’t so funny anymore.

I ran my fingers through my hair and dropped her hand. I pretended to focus on the tree, restraining the urge to take her into my arms for at least one real kiss before we went home. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t mine. Besides, we had to get out of there. I needed to focus. I’d deal with all that when we got home.

“What now?” she asked.

“Let me run you through the process for getting home,” I said. “It’s not hard. Rub your temples like I did earlier. Concentrate on being inside your head as if you were just floating in your mind. You’ll get this wild sensation of a matrix; lit up in white, all filigreed like lace. See it in your mind. It has rings like a spider’s web. Anything?”

 “A lacey pattern against black, kinda glowing?”

“That’s it. Latch on to it. Let it become a part of you. Make it stronger.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding.

“Now find the tree’s rings. Can you see them?”

“I think so…concentric circles?”

“Yes. Here’s the one you want.” I touched her temples and sent the vibrational pattern to her mind. “Anything different?”

“Yes, one of the rings is glowing gold. There’s a spot on it that is brighter than anywhere else.”

“Excellent. Focus on that spot. Now feel down in the dirt for the tree roots. Let the pattern of the roots overlay the matrix. I’ll stand with my back to the tree. You stand in front of me. Lean back so our bodies touch as much as possible. Think of the tree house. Feel its vibration. Long for it. Feel yourself move towards it. Your energy will lock on and harmonize. Let me know when that happens and I’ll add an energy boost. At that point, we’re good to go. Got it?”

She nodded. “I need a minute.”

“No problem, but make it fast,” I told her.

The Indian stood watching thoughtfully.

A.J. pulled off her pack and turned to him. “Thank you, my friend, for saving our lives.”

He reached out and touched a lock of her hair. “Aaajaay,” he said slowly. He untied the pouch around his neck and pulled it off. Opening it, he took out some kind of talisman. It looked like maybe a piece of a foxtail held together by a string of beaded leather. “Aaajaay,” he said again, holding it out to her.

Her mouth fell open, and she stared at him, eyes wide.

“
Hosa
?” she asked, staring at the charm and then at the Indian. “Hosa!” Her knees buckled, and she sat abruptly on the ground before I could catch her.

“A.J.?” I ran to her and crouched down. “What the heck is going on? Are you okay?”

She looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost. Then she broke out laughing. “I don’t freakin believe this,” she said finally. “I don’t freakin believe it.”

“Believe
what
?” I demanded.

She just smiled. “Wait for it,” she said, standing back up.

The Indian watched us solemnly. She stood back up and held her hand out to him. He placed his charm in her hand and stepped back…almost reverently. I was lost. What was going on?

“See this?” she asked, holding out the Indian’s lucky charm.

“Yeah,” I answered, not catching the significance.

She took a lock of her hair and held the two together. They matched. They matched perfectly.

“It’s mine,” she said intently. “It’s
my
hair!”

“No way!” I said astounded, looking from her to the hair to the Indian. “No way.”

“Way!” she said, nodding emphatically. “I’ll explain later. As you say…long story.”

“Hosa,” she said, smiling. She pointed to me. “This is Constantine. Constantine, this is Hosa.” 

He struggled with my name. “Connastatine.”

“Hosa,” I said, resisting the urge to shake his hand. I didn’t know how they handled introductions back in the Indian world. I stood there stupidly and then raised my hand, palm up like I’d seen on TV. He did the same and nodded gravely.

“I hate to break up this little reunion, but we have to go,” I said to A.J.

She nodded. “Wait a second. I want to give him something to thank him for saving our lives.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out the knife. She opened the largest blade and showed it to the Indian. His eyes opened wide as he watched her open and close it. “You try,” she said, handing it to him.

It took him a second but he got it open. Then she showed him the other functions while he watched her in absolute fascination. After making sure he knew how to work it, she crouched down and sliced off the top strap on her slipper. Then she did the same to the other side.

“He likes Velcro,” she said to me in explanation. She took one of the straps, fitted it together, and pulled…fraaaappp.

Hosa’s face broke out into a wide grin. I pulled out my phone and started filming.

“See?” she said, smiling at me. “We could have freakin bought Colorado with Velcro alone.” She took a strap, tucked it through the ring at the top of the knife and then walked over to Hosa and looped it through the rawhide, holding up his loincloth. She let it hang there for a second. Then she ripped open the Velcro and took the knife off, and then put it back, closing the Velcro together once again. She took his hand, pulled it to the strap, and told him to try it.

For a very amusing moment, Hosa, the gigantic, gentle Indian, practiced ripping the Velcro open and closed, and taking the knife off and on. He stood there looking like he’d just won the Olympic Gold, his hand resting on the knife. It would have made a hysterical
Saturday Nite Live
sketch.

She riffled through her pack. Suddenly, she laughed. “Beads! How freakin fate is that?” She pulled out a plastic box of multi-colored beads…jade, lapis, and silver. She opened the box and showed Hosa. Then she pulled out a spool of fishing line and poked a piece through a silver dove and a couple of beads. “It’s very strong,” A.J. said to him.

He was obviously impressed.

“Lex was going to make a necklace,” she said to me.

She dumped out the rest of the pack and sorted through the contents, making two piles. She stuffed a few things into her big hoodie pockets, leaving the rest on the ground. When she showed him the matches, I thought he’d have a heart attack. He thought those were magic for sure. “Save them for winter,” A.J. told him.

He nodded, totally serious.

She beckoned him over to where there was a break in the trees, showing a mountain in the distance. She held the binoculars up to her eyes and scanned the sky, following a hawk cruising on the wind. “Look,” she said, pulling him down and holding the binoculars up to his eyes.

He grabbed them and stood up, moving them in front of his eyes and away and back again. He stood with his mouth open, watching the bird soar down through the breaking dawn to land on the top of a broken pine tree.

A.J. gathered up the gifts and stuffed them in the pack. “We have to go,” she said, handing it to him.

He took the necklace from around his neck, and gently put it over her head.

She reached up, touched it, and said, “thank you, my friend, Hosa.”

“We gotta go,” I said, urgently, watching the sun appear over the horizon. We could shade now, but we were putting Hosa in danger. “Thank you,” I told him, pulling A.J. back towards the giant aspen.

“Peace,” A.J. said to the Indian, holding up her hand up, palm out.

He did the same.

Then she split her fingers into the peace sign, tears running down her cheeks. He looked at her with what I could only call reverence. His eyes watered, and for a moment, the aspen grove was quiet.

A boom shattered the silence.

Hosa’s knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, mouth open in surprise. Blood spurted from his thigh. He writhed in pain.

 “Hosa!” A.J. screamed. She started to run to him.

I grabbed her and shoved her behind me. “Get down!’ I yelled, trying desperately to focus enough to shade—

There was another boom and the weight of a sledgehammer slammed my chest. I went flying, bringing A.J. down with me. Then time morphed into slow-motion madness.

At first there was no pain—just intense pressure. I tried again to shade, but I couldn’t lock on. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t do that either.

Then my air began to run out.

A.J. crouched over me, her eyes like saucers. Tears ran down her face as she called my name.

I lifted my shaking hand to my chest and it dripped bright red. I looked at it in surprise.

Then the pain hit.

A wave of fire screamed through me. My left lung cramped with excruciating violence. Each breath was a knife, stabbing me in the chest—over and over. The fire burned, searing, harsh, and violent. I struggled just to think…and I thought,
A.J. Where’s A.J.? I have to save her.
The world around me reeled. I fought to focus. I tried calling her name, but no sound came out…just a bubble of blood.

Someone shrieked, “Nooooo!”

Shade! Shade!
I screamed in my head, but I couldn’t focus enough do it…and the pain, the pain. The pain was burning me alive. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

Another boom.

And then nothing.