The Legend of the Firewalker (16 page)

He continued to stare at the wall. “Why did Jonathan Black have the yearbook?” he asked.

She scowled. “I don’t know!” she said. “Something about research. Nathan, are you listening to me or, better yet, can you hear me?”

“W-what?” he slurred, shaking his head and turning to face her. “What are you complaining about?”

She opened the yearbook again. “Ugh!” she growled, while pointing at Leah’s picture. “I’ve only asked you like a million times. Did
— you — know — her?”

Nathan could see the frustration building in her face. He wanted to tell her everything about his hands, Leah, and the mysterious black dog he had seen in the forest the day Malick almost drove them off the road. But then he reme
mbered his dreams. A cold shiver ran down his back. He remembered how helpless he’d felt as the black-hooded figure withdrew his sword, and the pain in his stomach as he’d clung to Lafonda’s lifeless body.

Nathan stared intently at Leah’s picture. Just to make sure, he read the list of names that ran next to the row of pi
ctures: last row, third picture, Leah Davenport.

Tears began to swell in his eyes. “No,” he said, while d
iverting his gaze, “I didn’t know her.”   

Lafonda stood up, leaving the yearbook on the desk. “Jeez,” she said, “you acted like I was speaking a different language, or something.” She paused to fix her orange lea
dership shirt and then placed her foot on the wooden chair to tie her shoe. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go, then,” she said. “I’d better get going before my group realizes I’m gone and decides to act crazy.”

“Wait, hold on,” Nathan said, staring at her shoes. They weren’t the gray-and-pink ones she had been wea
ring in his dream; they were white.

Lafonda stopped mid-walk and turned around to face him. “What?” she said.

Nathan’s forehead wrinkled, and he fidgeted a little before resting his hand on the back of his neck. “Are those your only pair of sneakers?” he asked.

Casually, she looked down and then back at him. “Yes, here at camp,” she said. “What? You don’t like white snea
kers?”

He took a deep breath and smiled. “No, no,” he said. “Those are fine.”

Lafonda smirked and looked down again. “Yeah, they’re kinda plain, huh?”

Nathan almost fell off the edge of the bed. “No, no,” he said. “In fact, they are better than fine. Those are great!”

“Well, okay then,” she laughed. “Thanks, Nathan. I’ll see you downstairs.”

The cafeteria to Lawrence Hall was especially bright. Light from the morning sun poured in through the large floor-to-ceiling glass windows that surrounded half the room in the dining area. Nathan could almost see La
wrence Road, despite the many pine trees that lined the back of the building. 

Nathan noticed most of the gang was already seated at their usual table.
But where is Jonathan Black?
he wondered.
I guess he wasn’t serious about changing his behavior like he promised to Erin the night before.
“Erin is going to kill him,” he chuckled. 

Carefully, he left the cafeteria counter and tried not to spill his large glass of orange juice that was filled to the
brim. He took a seat next to Lafonda. Angela, Alan, Lafonda and Erin were engrossed in a conversation, and he hoped that no one would notice him. He scanned the cafeteria and caught a glimpse of Jonas joking around with Eva Marie Evans, Samantha Darding and Christina Williams.

A red cardinal landed on the branch of the tree outside the window in front of him, but Nathan hardly noticed it. His thoughts were elsewhere. He couldn’t stop his mind from revisiting his recent dream about Grimm Cemetery. “Ugh,” he murmured. There was a blank look on his face.
All I know for sure is that it will eventually happen,
he thought.
All of my dreams about Leah happened, so why would this one be any different?

Nathan’s stomach twisted into knots as he remembered overhearing Lafonda and Amanda talking about Leah at Lafonda’s birthday party. He blinked his eyes, realizing that was the moment his life had changed fore
ver. Checking the yearbook to confirm Leah was the person in his dreams had been his last chance at denial.

He drew a big breath and then sighed heavily, finally n
oticing the red cardinal in the tree outside his window as it hopped from branch to branch. The cardinal finally stopped to flutter its wings before choosing to nestle on the side of the tree that received the most sun.

Everything is changing,
Nathan thought.

Nathan couldn’t remember the last time he had just sat around and done nothing. Sure, this wasn’t his first year at camp and he expected to have activities day and night, but this year was different. He couldn’t even recall the last time he’d actually had a restful night’s sleep without wa
king up startled by a dream. And when he wasn’t asleep, his thoughts were overwhelmed with the strange things that seemed to be constantly happening to him. 

He took a sip of orange juice and then stared intently at his hands.
And now, apparently, I have blue flames that come out of my hands. This is getting way too weird.

Nathan’s vacant expression turned sad as he wished that he knew when it all would happen. A sickening fee
ling crept into his stomach.
I wish I knew how we all end up in a cemetery.

The sound of laughter coming from another table inte
rrupted his thoughts. Nathan recognized Jonas’s voice and turned around to see a huge smile on the camper’s face. Christina Williams had Jonas’s basketball and was teasing not to give it back to him.

“Earth to Nathan?” called out a familiar voice.

Nathan turned around to find Lafonda glaring at him. He raised his eyebrows in response to her stare. “What?”

“You didn’t hear me talking to you?” she said, her brown eyes scrutinizing his.

Nathan could see that Lafonda wasn’t the only one at the table anticipating a response. He opened his mouth to speak and thought about answering sarcastically, but then he saw the look on her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

Lafonda tilted her head and her forehead wrinkled with a look of concern. “You really have been acting strange lately. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Ah, give him some slack,” commented Alan. “Let him enjoy his pancakes and orange juice.”

“Do you always have pancakes and orange juice for breakfast?” asked Angela.

Nathan was surprised by the question and looked down at his half-eaten plate. He hadn’t realized just how often he chose pancakes for breakfast. “Yup,” he said. “Pecan pancakes and orange juice — my favorite.”

Lafonda pushed her empty tray from in front of her and slapped her hand down on the table. “Whatever,” she moaned. “I know something is going on. He even bot
hered to remember to put on his leadership shirt this morning.”

Alan let out a huge laugh. “I guess she has a point there,” he said. “What’s gotten into you?”

Nathan took a moment to look at the orange leadership shirt he was wearing and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just a shirt.”

Lafonda rolled her eyes before leaning forward. “But you never wear it,” she explained. “Well, at least not without c
oercion.”

Angela ran her hand through her carefully groomed locks of blonde hair and smiled. “Well, love is in the air,” she said. “Maybe he’s in love?”

“Love?” laughed Lafonda. “That’s doubtful.”

Angela rested her chin on the back of her hand and blinked her long eyelashes playfully. “Why not?” she said. “Summer is the season of love, and I believe the summer love bug has bitten our little Jonas.”

Everyone turned around to see Jonas laughing and joking around with Christina Williams. Both of them had huge smiles on their faces.

“And speaking of love,” said Angela with a huge smile on her own face, “Lafonda, how’s it going with the hunky Jim Darding?”

Nathan sat up in his chair and snickered. He couldn’t wait to hear her response on this one.

Lafonda gave him a disapproving glare and tossed her long black hair over her shoulders. “Well,” she said. “If you must know, Jim and I have decided to take a break.”

“A break?” blurted Alan, instantly scooting back in his chair. “Since when? Does Jim know you two are on a break? When did this happen?”

“At her birthday party, a couple of weeks ago,” a
nswered Nathan, before Lafonda could respond.

“Nathan!” said Lafonda angrily.

“What?” he shrugged, while raising his eyebrows. “It’s the truth.”

Alan grinned. “So, that’s why Jim left early the night of your birthday party.”

“Alan, that’s none of your business,” spouted Angela. “And how do you know Jim left early? You weren’t even at the party.”

He smiled and held up his cell phone. “Text, darling, text,” he said. “I have friends who were there.”

Alan suddenly had an apologetic look on his face. “And my condolences about the dress, Lafonda. I heard it was quite smashing.”

“Yeah, me too,” winced Angela. “I heard about what happened to your dress.”

“Okay, guys,” said Erin, after slamming her glass of apple juice on the table. “I’m sure Lafonda would rather not relive that night. Isn’t that right, Nathan?”

Nathan looked embarrassed and gave a forced smile.

“It’s okay, guys,” said Lafonda. She took a deep breath and then smiled. “Really.”

Angela quickly pulled herself closer to the table. “Well, while we’re on the subject of hunks,” she grinned, “I wonder where that Stephen Malick is.”

Alan huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” added Erin. “And I wonder where that Jon
athan Black is. He said he would be here early this morning.”

Lafonda sighed. “Do we really need to bring him up at breakfast today?” she asked.

Erin looked confused. “Bring up whom?” she asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Alan. “Who else does Angela talk about every morning?”

Angela frowned at him and then suddenly had a huge smile across her face. “There he is!” she said. Her rosy cheeks became a deeper hue. “Guys, he’s coming this way.”

“This conversation is getting old,” griped Alan. “I’d be
tter go before my clothes go out of style.”

Angela grabbed Alan by the arm and yanked him back i
nto his chair. “Sit down, Alan,” she murmured, sounding annoyed. “It’s not time to go yet.”

She quickly ran her fingers through her hair and smiled. “Hi, Stephen,” she said. “How are you this mor
ning?”

Stephen Malick was wearing sunglasses and carrying a tray of breakfast food. Several girls at a nearby table gi
ggled and grinned when he walked past them. “Good morning, ladies,” he said. “And gentlemen.”

Angela smiled, and her long eyelashes fluttered a few times. “Good morning, Malick,” she said.

“Oh, brother,” sighed Alan and Lafonda in unison.

He smiled. “Hello, Lafonda,” he said. “How are you this morning?”

Lafonda spun fully around in her chair to face him. She had a smirk on her face. “Good,” she responded, while crossing her legs and folding her arms. “Still wearing your sunglasses indoors?”

Malick grinned and then quickly removed his glasses. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, with a wink. “I already ran into LaDonda out in the hallway. Got to make sure we set a good example for the kids.”

Lafonda rolled her eyes.   

“So, Nathan,” said Malick, “LaDonda wanted me to r
emind you that we are all set to help Argus with the bonfires this Friday. So, north entrance again, a quarter to six?”

Nathan leaned back in his chair and raised his ey
ebrows. “Sure,” he said. “Looking forward to it.”

Malick laughed and headed towards the tables that were lined up against the glass windows. “Sure you are,” he said.

Quickly, Angela spun around. “Lafonda!” she cried. “No wonder Malick doesn’t want to sit with us!” She crossed her arms and pouted her lips. “Why do you have to be so mean to him?”

“Mean?” she huffed. She raised her eyebrows. “To him? Doubt it. He’s the one who is mean.”

Angela bounced forward in her chair. “What do you mean?” she asked. “He was nothing but nice to you right now.”

“Ha!” she responded. “Yeah, right now he is, but he wasn’t last night.”

Angela’s forehead creased. “Last night?” she said. “What happened last night?”

Lafonda placed her hands on her lap and leaned closer to Angela. “You don’t remember how rude he was to me last night?” she said. “When I was talking to Jonathan? I was trying to understand the whole Cahokia myth thing, and he made it seem like I was five years old, or som
ething.”

“Oh,” uttered Angela. “You mean the story about the Fallen Ones.”

Lafonda folded her arms and leaned back into her chair. “Yes,” she said. “Almost every question I had for Jonathan, Malick followed up with his ‘it’s just a myth’ comment, like I was wasting his time by asking stupid questions.”