Slices (17 page)

Tom
wasn’t listening. He was walking the path.

The
dance was happening. He could feel the steps. It was happening now
and it was happening twenty minutes from now and it was happening
seven years ago. All of it now. One moment.

He’d
studied and read in college about relativistic events, travel at near
light speed, time dilation. Trying to understand it all. Sleight of
hand.

Across
the knuckles, back and forth. Walk the path.

“How
much longer?” Sean asked.

“Hmmm?”
Tom struggled to understand the question. “Oh. Not much longer
now.”

“So
you should be, well, sitting down, then, right?” Danny said.

“—
Right,” Tom said. He
reached into his pocket and pulled out the handcuffs. They felt cold
and impossibly heavy.

“Now,
you do have keys for these, right?” Danny said, grinning.

“We’d
hate to have to leave you out here,” Sean said.

Tom
smiled weakly and handed the key to Danny. The last thing he wanted
was to be helpless in front of Sean, but the plan wasn’t going
to work otherwise.

He
walked to the nearest, thickest tree, faced the circle, and hugged
his arms around it. Danny stepped around to the other side, and Tom
felt the cold metal cuffs close around his wrists, closed his eyes at
the ratcheting sounds.

“That
too tight?” Danny asked.

“It’ll
do.”

“Listen,
Tomcat, do we have to do this part?” Danny shot a glance at
Sean. “Are you sure you’re okay like this?”

Tom
thought of Jason, lashed to the mast of the Argo, resisting the
sirens’ call. “I’m sure,” he said. “Okay.
So. You and Sean go stand next to the edge of the circle. And
be
ready.”

They
stood, Danny looking tense, Sean looking bored.

He
could feel it. Hear the notes, the rhythm, as the leaves fluttered
and murmured in the cool air. His feet hurt from not moving in step.

Maybe
I don’t need to do it like this,
he thought.
It
wouldn’t hurt anything to get a little closer, would it?

He
wanted to call out to have them free him, but instead he made himself
say, “Danny, no matter what I say, do
not
let me out until this is all over, all right?”

“Right,”
Danny said, and then he said — “Is — is that —
”

“It’s
starting,” Sean said.

They
could all see it. Tom was the only one who could really see it, see
more than shape and shadow.

He
could see the dance. And the dancers. The Good People. The Summer
Folk. The Fae.

Twirling
and blurred, color and motion, impossibly tall and graceful beyond
all measure, the Fae, spinning and smiling through their spiral
dance.

“Do
you see him?” Danny shouted. They couldn’t hear the
music, these two, but the wind was gathering, stirring. The whole
clearing taking on the quality of moonlight in the middle of the day,
a cool blue storm rising. “Do you see him?”

Tom
was pulling against the handcuffs so hard his hands were bleeding,
trying desperately to get closer, trying to dance. “Not yet,”
he shouted back.

The
dancers wore silver and white and gold, colors deeper than infrared
and brighter than ultraviolet, fabrics more like clouds than like
silk. Beauty enough in this one moment for a lifetime. The dancers
moving back and forth, complex interweaving knotwork steps,
impossible to follow. Just sleight of hand. Watch the coin.

Isaiah
—

“
Now!”
Tom screamed.

Sean
and Danny pounced, a good hard football tackle.

Everything
stopped.

Tom
fell slack against the tree.

And
in the center of the circle — three men, sprawled on the
ground.

Tom
laughed, a single triumphant sound. Then they were all laughing, him
and Danny and Sean. And Isaiah.

In
Isaiah’s arms was the briefcase, still chained to his wrist.
Inside it was over fifty thousand dollars.

And
Isaiah — Isaiah looked just the same.

Seven
years before, and Isaiah wasn’t there. He almost never was, in
those days, even though they all knew him. Never there, like a little
brother left behind while the other kids went about their serious
games.

He
wasn’t there, but they were talking about him. The four of them
— it was always the four of them then, Danny and Connor and Tom
and Sean, always, in clubs and in bars and in trouble.

They
were parked across the street, looking at it.

“Isaiah’s
dad used to own the place,” Danny said. “Now his dad’s
dead and it’s his uncle’s and Isaiah doesn’t like
his uncle at all. I mean,
at
all.
But
he’s still working there.”

Sean
was in the back seat, leaning forward. “How much are we talking
about?” His voice was cool, mildly interested, like they were
talking about a football game. Tommy used to think this just meant
Sean was really cool, back then.

“A
lot,” Danny said. “Thousands, easy. Isaiah’s seen
him putting cash in the safe and there’s stacks of it.”

“Why?”
Connor said.

“Why?
Shit, Connor, it’s a jewelry store. It makes a ton of
money.”

“But
why does he have so much cash? You don’t think people buy
diamond rings with cash in hand, do you?”

“How
should I know? Maybe he doesn’t like banks. Maybe he’s
got something illegal going on, he wants to keep off the books. Maybe
he’s just scared of that Y2K shit. Who cares?”

“Why
don’t we take the jewels, too?” Sean said.

Danny
turned to stare at him. “Do you know where to fence jewelry?
’Cause I sure as fuck don’t.”

Sean
shrugged. “I’m sure I could find out.”

“No,
forget it. We just go in, get the cash, and get out before the cops
get there. Isaiah’s uncle doesn’t even know his dad ever
told him the safe combination. Nobody will even suspect him — ”

“Oh,
the fuck they won’t,” Connor said. “They’ll
know it was an inside job. They’re not stupid. Isaiah’s
the first person they’ll suspect.”

There
was silence in the car. Three of them staring holes in the jewelry
store. Tom just staring out the side window into nothing.

“We’d
need some way for Isaiah to disappear for a while,” Sean said.

“The
money, too,” Tom said quietly.

It
was the first time he’d said anything about the plan. They all
turned to stare at him.

“What’s
the statute of limitations on something like this?” Tom asked.
“Five years? Seven?”

“What
do I look like, a lawyer?” Danny said. “How the fuck am I
supposed to know?”

Connor
was just nodding. “You’ve got a plan, don’t you,
witch-boy?”

Tom
nodded back. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I do.”

“The
first thing we do,” Danny was saying as they drove away from
the woods, “is get some drinks. A little celebra — no.
No,
first
thing we do is go somewhere private, get that thing off Isaiah’s
wrist, and count out our fucking money, am I right?”

“Hear,
hear,” Sean said.

“
Then
we get some drinks,” Danny said.

Tom
wasn’t hearing any of this. He was watching Isaiah, who was
just staring out the window, arms curled around the briefcase like a
doll.

“Are
you okay?” Tom asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Isaiah
looked him with wide eyes. He looked so young. When he’d last
seen him, Isaiah had been nineteen and Tommy twenty-one. Now Tom was
twenty-eight, and Isaiah —

“Is
this happening?” Isaiah asked. “I mean, are we still just
talking about this, or is this happening right now?”

—
Isaiah was still nineteen.

“It’s
happening now,” Tom said.

“Oh.
Only, I still hear us talking about it, I still — I’m
still hearing music. Do you hear it?”

Yes,
Tom thought. “No,” he said.

“Hey,
Tom. Tom. I’m talking to you,” Sean said.

“I
hear Sean,” Isaiah said, wide-eyed with surprise.

“Sean’s
right here. What?”

“Me
and Danny were saying. We should get a big suite in a hotel room, get
some girls, some champagne. What do you think?”

“Yeah,
sounds great,” Tom said.

It
didn’t sound great, not really. He wasn’t thinking about
why it didn’t. He was just thinking about Isaiah.

“He
doesn’t look so good,” Danny said, glancing back at him.

“No,
he doesn’t,” Tom said. “Isaiah? Are you doing
okay?”

“Uhh.
When?”

“Right
now. Are you — Isaiah, where’s your St. Christopher’s
medal?”

Isaiah’s
fingers drifted up to his bare neck. “Gave it. To a girl.”

“In
the fairy circle.” Tom shook his shoulder. “Am I right?
You gave it to a girl in the fairy circle?”

“Yeah.
I think so.”

“Isaiah,
I told you not to take anything or give anything — fuck.
Isaiah, are you listening to me?”

“I’m
always listening.”

“Did
you eat or drink anything?”

“ …
I don’t remember.”

“Oh,
bullshit. Isaiah, did you or didn’t you?”

“Tom,
what’s the big deal?” Danny said. “What difference
does it make if — ”

Tom
grabbed the back of Danny’s seat. He leaned in close to his
ear.

“
Food,”
he said,
“Now.”

They
were parked out behind the fast-food place — Tom hadn’t
noticed what one it was and he didn’t care, so long as it was
somewhere he could get a cheeseburger and some fries down Isaiah’s
throat, something that stereotypically American, something to ground
Isaiah in the here and now. And Coke. It had to be Coke, not Pepsi.
He’d tasted it to be sure.

It
wasn’t working. Isaiah couldn’t keep it down. It came
back up behind the dumpster, huge groaning heaves that bent Isaiah’s
small frame double, nothing substantial coming up from his lips, just
— smoke, it looked like, smoke that fell to the ground like
water and shimmered all the colors of an oil-slick in a rain puddle.

“What
the fuck
is
that?” Danny said.

“Trouble,”
Tom said. “His body can’t handle the food. It’s
rejecting it.”

“What
do we do?” Danny said.

“I
don’t know,” Tom said. “He might calm down. Change
back.” Or, he thought, his lungs might start rejecting the air,
next.

“I
tell you what we do,” Sean said. “We get him out of
sight. Before someone sees him.”

Tom
nodded. “Sean’s right,” he said. The words made his
mouth feel like an ashtray.

Isaiah
had stopped for a moment. He looked like he might start again any
minute, but Danny put an arm around his shoulders. “Hey. Hey,
Isaiah. You doing okay there, buddy?”

“Feel
sick.”

“Sure.
Sure you do. But come on. We’re going back to the car now,
okay?”

“’ Kay.”
He took a few faltering steps forward, looking around, looking lost.
“Tommy?”

“Right
here, Isaiah.”

“Is
it almost the Fourth of July?”

“—
No. Why?”

“Almost
all these cars have flag stickers on them,” he said.

Something
like a smile twitched and died across Tom’s face. What do I
tell him? What do you tell someone who hasn’t lived through it
all?

Try
to explain what it’s like, living under a pressure-front of
madness crawling up out of the sea — the fairy folk nearly done
with their centuries-long crossing of the Atlantic. Tell him about
the watchtowers of the air, brought to earth by fire in New York.
Tell him about New Orleans, all its magic and voudoun drawing the Fey
like a magnet, the ocean rising up to meet it. By the time they burn
like wildfire all across the country to Hollywood, the whole world
will be dreaming their dreams.

Explain
it all. Or get him to the car and get him out of sight. That was
easier.

Isaiah
did make it all the way into the hotel bathroom before the next burst
of slick smoke came boiling up out of him, streaming from his mouth,
his eyes, his ears. Tommy sat on the cold tile floor next to him,
holding the toilet seat up, holding Isaiah’s hair out of his
eyes.

“You’ll
want to get that briefcase off his wrist,” Sean said, standing
in the doorway.

“You’ll
get your money, Sean,” Tom said.

“What?
That’s not what I meant. I just meant, he can’t be
comfortable with that cuff on, is all.”

Tom
looked up at him. Then he took the key out of his pocket and took the
handcuff off Isaiah’s wrist — Isaiah barely noticed. Tom
slid the case across the floor to Sean.

“Don’t
go getting any ideas,” he said.

“What
sort of ideas?”

“I’m
the only one who knows the combination to that case.”

Sean
smiled widely. “Oh, so, no ideas like taking a switchblade to
it, then? Don’t worry, Tom. You’ll get your money, too.”

Sean
left them alone, closing the door.

“Don’t
leave me here,” Isaiah said, and for a second Tom thought he
was talking to Sean, then realized he wasn’t.

“I
won’t,” he said.

“I’m
really sick, Tommy. Am I gonna die?”

“I
don’t know, Isaiah. Not if I can help it.”

“I’m
sorry. I know you told me not to eat anything — ”

“What
did you have to do that for?” Tom snapped, his patience finally
gone. “I told you, you needed to do exactly what I said, you —
”

“Tom.
I know, okay? I know. But you weren’t there. You didn’t
see
this place, all right? I know what — ” He looked like he
was going to be sick again, but it passed. “I know what all
your books said. But you weren’t there. You don’t know
what it was like.”

“No,”
Tom finally admitted. “I don’t know what it was like.”

“So
don’t — don’t leave me here, okay? I know that’s
what everyone else wants — just take the money and go, but —
”

“Isaiah
— I won’t, I swear to God — ”