Phoenix

Sirens and strobe lights announced the arrival of the fire department.

Cold knotted my muscles, which clenched and held like rocks. My bones burned with cold. Smoke billowed above the hospital. I watched it lifting into the sky. From the corner of my eye, I saw Lexia standing beside me.

“You should leave now,” Lexia observed.

Did she mean to leave the hospital or this world?

“What makes you think I want to leave?” I asked her. I wanted to tell myself that this was the real world. I wanted to tell myself that I should stay here, committed to go to a long-term psychiatric care facility.

“You are my brother, Phoenix,” Lexia said ruefully. “I know you do not want to be here any longer.”

Well. She was right.

Kill her, the Darkness growled.

I tried to stop my teeth from chattering as I moved slowly backward in the confusion of running crazies and arriving firemen. I took one step back and stopped to stare at the smoke and the lights. Two steps back. I paused to look at my fingernails. Three steps away. I ducked behind a car, waiting to see if I’ve been noticed. I crouched as I ran from car to car, each one taking me farther away from this place.

No one was looking at me. No one was shouting my name or pointing fingers. I thought I was far enough away to not seem like one of the patients and it was time to really run.

How far is it to Pete’s from here? I wondered. I’d ran all over the valley. Up the hills, across the bridges, around the loop. I thought about it and guessed seven miles. But I was soaking wet. And cold. And barefoot.

It was going to be a hard run.

I can do hard things, I told myself. I smiled. It was like my dad’s favorite saying: You don’t gotta wanna. Except mine was slightly more hopeful.

My feet fell into a shuffling rhythm and I was at last grateful for the weather’s inability to decide what it was doing. The freezing rain that sent me home early two days ago melted along with all the snow. Nothing was left on the ground except shining ice crystals. But it was cold.

Oh man, was it cold.

The river steamed below as I ran across the bridge. I couldn’t feel my feet and my body ached with numbness. Frozen crisps of curly hair bounced against my face, crunching with the impact. Crystalized breath coated my eyelashes. My legs pumped like a machine, and they might as well have been one for all the feeling I had in them. The outer layer of my skin froze, but my core was hot. Freezing cold and burning hot warred, making electric spider-webs across my skin. The only part of me that wasn’t cold was stitches in my wrist. They throbbed and jolted with every step. I focused on that. One foot moved and then the other, as fast as I could make them move.

It didn’t seem to be very fast, especially after running in Eloria.

How much farther? I wondered. I was just starting up the big hill, passing the high school. A mile, a little more. I’m not going to make it. There’s no hope.

The headlights of a car pulled up behind me, making me jump into the bushes lining the sidewalk. Spiny evergreen needles scratched at my frozen skin, burning through the frozen pain.

They’ve caught me. They’ve realized I’ve escaped.

The car slowed, stopped. It was an old blue Nissan Sentra. I knew this car. The window rolled down.

“Nix,” Jewel said across the passenger seat. “What are you doing?” Without being invited, I grabbed the handle and opened the door. I slid into the front seat.

“You’re soaking wet!” she said.

“Drive,” I said. My teeth chattered. That was good. At least I wasn’t past that. Maybe I wasn’t hypothermic yet.

Jewel looked at me with narrowed green eyes.

“Where do you want me to go?” she asked lowly.

I looked back at her.

“I just escaped from the psych ward,” I said. “Take me anywhere.”

“Like back to the hospital?” she asked, eyeing me sideways. She put the car in gear.

“Anywhere else,” I clarified. “Take me to Pete’s.”

“Yeah,” she said. “That will go over well.”

“Yeah,” I said. I realized how dumb it was to run away. What did I think would happen? I’d escape and everything would be fine? Jewel glanced sideways at me and flipped a u-ey. The car fishtailed on the slick pavement.

“My parents are away for the weekend,” she said. “I’ll take you to my house until you decide to go back to the hospital.”

My heart rushed. Jewel was taking me to her house.

“That would be good,” I said slowly. Suddenly there was this horrible tension between us.

“Don’t think it means anything,” Jewel warned. “I mean, I’m only taking you there because. . . well, I’m not taking you back to my house so we can be--” she cut herself off with a frustrated growl.

“Jewel,” I said. “I need to get warm and I need some clothes. You’re rescuing me. I am in my lady’s debt. I would never presume-”

Now it was my turn to cut off. I didn’t know what I wouldn’t presume to. But I did know that I was talking like I was from a book. And it sounded weird.

“Okay,” she said, tapping her palms on the steering wheel. “Good.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Good.”

She turned the car’s radio on. The old Sentra had a newer radio with an MP3 jack plugged into Jewel’s phone.

“Don’t fight this,” the singer’s voice screamed above the bass. “Doooon’t fight this.”

“Chevel?” I asked. She looked kind of sheepish, but she nodded.

“Didn’t you and Lexia like something a little more girly?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “We had our jams. But after she died, I needed something...darker. Something that understood me.”

“What else have you got on there?” I asked her, picking up her phone. I scrolled through the playlist. It was called “Night Driving Music.” “Awesome,” I said.

She smiled and shook her head.

We didn’t say anything else until we pulled into her driveway. She parked outside the garage above an oil slick on the concrete. She punched a button on her garage door opener and got out of the car. I followed her through the garage, which she closed on her way into the house.

We walked through the kitchen, my teeth chattering. I dripped onto the linoleum floor.

“Here’s the bathroom,” she said, pushing open a door. “There are towels under the sink. I’ll go get you some of my dad’s clothes.” I could tell she was trying to keep her voice steady. It was just weird. I’d been here a thousand times before. I remembered being here. But I also felt like I’d never been here before. And to be here with Jewel. Here we were, alone together in her house where it had always been her and me and Lexia before. The three of us. Not the two of us. At least, I thought I had been the three of us before, but I couldn’t exactly remember ever having been here with Jewel or Lexia even though I knew I had.

It’s not awkward, I told myself.

I hoped my face wasn’t as red as hers.

“Thanks,” I said, shuffling past her into the bathroom. I shut and locked the door and then stripped off the freezing, wet sweats and T-shirt. Bright red skin stretched across my chest and stomach in irregular patches, cold to the touch. I really had been close to freezing to death. I climbed into the shower and adjusted the shower curtain before turning the water on hot. It took a few seconds, and then gloriously hot water poured from the spout, scalding my feet.

It felt wonderful.

I pulled the knob and was immersed in a flood of first cold and then hot, hot water. My skin screamed in protest. My heart sighed in contentment. The water running off my skin was cold, my body leeching all heat from it.

I stood there for a while, letting the hot water pelt me, and warm me. There could be nothing so delicious as finally getting warm. It made the spider bites itch.

They’re welts. Psycho-symptomatic welts. They’re all in my head. And they just happen to itch. You did not get bitten by spiders.

Shut up, I told the voice in my head.

I leaned against the shower wall, breathing in the steam and I remembered Might on the day he was born, a spindly colt on legs too long, tottering across the green pasture. I remembered him running head and tail high through knee-deep snow as a two year old. I saw him pawing in a pond and then laying down to roll with me still in the saddle. I remembered the way he kept his pace steady as we ran, moving straight and steady as I shot arrows from his back. His fuzzy, insistent lips always searched my clothes for butterscotch. And I always carried it for him. He did his best to carry me from danger, and died for it. The splash in the darkness was loud in my ears. Despite the steaming water streaming down my body, I felt cold.

Might.

My good horse, I thought, trying to ignore the way the words clenched my heart.

He was just imaginary, the Darkness said. He was just part of the tricks your crazy brain tries to play on you.

“Shut up,” I said aloud.

I realized the water had stopped and my hand rested on the lever. My skin steamed now, but I was still cold. I stepped from the tub onto a shaggy blue rug, my toes sinking deep into it.

I grabbed a towel from beneath the sink and dried myself quickly. My obscured form in the bathroom mirror mimicked me as I ran the thick towel down my arms and legs and shook it through my hair. I wrapped it around my waist and cautiously opened the door.

A neat stack of clothes sat in the hall by the bathroom. I looked up and down the hall for Jewel, but I couldn’t see her. I grabbed the clothes and brought them back into the bathroom.

The waist of the jeans was only a little big, but Jewel’s dad was even taller than me. I had to roll the legs and the shirt hung on my like a tent. It was a green shirt with that leprechaun and the marshmallows on it. “Good Luck Charm,” it read.

Nice, I thought. I could sure use some good luck at this point. Jewel hadn’t brought me any shoes.

I opened the door to leave the bathroom and Jewel stood there. I jumped back.

“Sheesh,” I said. “Sneak up on people much?”

“Sheesh,” she said. “Use up all the hot water in other people’s houses much?”

I grinned at her.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I’m just so cold.” I was still cold. I was going to start shivering again at any moment.

“Come on,” Jewel said, moving down the hall.

I followed her. She brought me to the living room. There was an overstuffed floral couch that might have been a sofa-sleeper and a couple comfy-looking chairs facing a flat screen TV hanging on the wall above a gas fireplace.

I didn’t know what to think as I looked at that fireplace. Was I happy to see it? Or was I nervous? Fire would warm me. But fire had burned me. I ran the thumb of one had across the back of the other. The smooth, ridged burns tingled.

“Let’s get you warm,” she said, flipping a switch and lighting the fire. My chest felt tight. She looked at me, and then at the fire.

“Oh,” she said, her voice full of concern. “Does it bother you?” Her eyes flitted to my hands.

“Yeah,” I said. “It bothers me. But it’s okay. I...”

“No,” she said. “If it bothers you, I’ll just turn it off. It’s okay.” She reached for the switch. I caught her hand in mine and she gasped, but I hardly heard her. A feeling rushed through me, strong and full and undeniable.

Hope.

“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping her hand. There was something there, something between us. She felt it. I knew she did.

Stupid, I told myself.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s just...well...have you ever seen Princess Bride?”

“What?” I asked completely dumbfounded. What was she talking about?

“The movie. It’s my favorite,” she said. “I could, um, make some popcorn and we could, um, watch it.”

“Uh,” I said. Where did this come from? I touch her hand and suddenly she wants to watch a movie? “Okay.”

She went to the kitchen.

Why did she gasp? What was it about me touching her that made her gasp?

I followed her.

“Jewel,” I said. She had her back to me, trying to open the plastic coating around a bag of microwave popcorn.

“I can’t get it open,” she said, turning around. She didn’t look at me. “I need scissors.” She pointed at the drawer behind me.

“Jewel,” I said again. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” she asked. Her voice was light, false.

Something had happened.

“When I stopped you from turning the fire off,” I said. “I touched your hand and you...kinda freaked out.”

She shook her head.

“It was nothing,” she dismissed. She smiled at me, but I had the sense that she was running. “You shocked me. You know, static electricity.”

“Yeah,” I said. I wasn’t going to let her out of this. Something had happened. Whether it was just that she liked it or hated it, or if it was something more, something, I wanted her to admit it. “That was not static electricity. No.”

She put the un-popped bag of popcorn in the microwave and pushed the button.

“What was it then?” she asked me. “You touched my hand and I...I...”

I felt hopeful, I thought. I felt for a second like I wasn’t crazy.

“What?” I asked.

“I...nothing,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you know how much it matters?”

“Come on, Nix,” she said. “Let’s just go watch the movie.

It probably would have been easy to follow her back to the family room and watch the movie. But I had stopped being concerned about what was easy. I needed to know what was real. I was tired of being crazy. I decided to lay it out for her.

“They’re shipping me to Seattle for long term care,” I said. It was kind of a last ditch effort on my part. I had nothing to lose. Keeping it to myself didn’t matter anymore. “They think I’m schizophrenic and suicidal and...well...it matters Jewel. I don’t know what to believe any more.”

“Seattle?” she asked, shaking her head. “Your mom will never go for that.”

“Yes she will,” I said. “She’s all excited about it because she can go take care of Jack’s baby and not feel guilty about leaving me behind. It’s so convenient for her.”

“Really?” Jewel asked.

“So I need you to tell me,” I said. “Am I crazy? Should I just go along with it? Or should I fight it?”

“Nix,” she said, her eyes staring at the leprechaun on my shirt. “You’ve never seemed crazy to me.”

I shrugged.

“That’s not really an answer,” I said.

She looked up at me with her bright green eyes. I could get lost in those eyes if I wasn’t careful.

“There was...something,” she said, turning away. “When we touched. I can’t—it’s stupid.”

“What?” I asked. Here I was asking her if I was crazy, and she was throwing it right back at me.

“I...saw...something,” she said slowly. “Like a memory. But not from any life I know.”

I came up behind her, resting my hand on her shoulder. She half turned her head to look at me, but then didn’t. She just stared off out the window into the darkness.

Kill her, the Darkness said again, but this time it wasn’t telling me to kill Lexia. It wanted Jewel and I didn’t know why.

She’s not real, I thought, confused. I ignored the voice anyway, just as I always had.

“What do you see?” I asked her.

“Sheesh,” she laughed, running her hands through her strawberry hair. “I’m gonna be right there with you in Seattle.”

“Do you see things when you touch other people?” I whispered. Maybe I really wasn’t crazy. Maybe Lexia was alive. I started to hope.

Jewel shook her head.

Hope was in Eloria.

“It’s just when I touched you,” she whispered. She looked at me and my throat was suddenly tight. “I saw you, but it wasn’t you. I mean, it looked like you, but only kind of. And I saw you...holding fire. Like your fist was on fire, but it didn’t burn.”

Fire.

I stepped back from her.

The flames are a part of me, a part of my soul.

My chest felt like Pete was sitting on it.

Maybe I’m not crazy, I thought. For the second time, the thought lifted a weight off of my shoulders.

“Did you see anybody else? Do you remember anybody else?” I asked. Jewel eyed me sideways and I knew that there was. She took her lower lip in her teeth and looked away, nodding. I leaned toward her and rested my hand on the counter behind her. She turned to face me, spinning quickly. She was close to me, close enough that if my other hand was on her shoulder she would have been in my arms. I lifted my hand and touched her face laying my fingers on her freckled cheek. She gasped again, her hand coming up to cover mine. Her eyes fixed me but she didn’t see me.

I leaned a little closer. She held her breath, and gently took my hand from her face.

“Whoa,” she said quietly. Her eyes could have bored a hole in my chest she was staring at it so intently. She didn’t move away. “What is that, Nix? Another place? Why do I know it? I’ve never seen it, not in person.”

“Do you--” How was I going to ask this? Hey Jewel, do you visit fantasyland like I do? Or are you stuck here? Because I think of you when I’m there, but you’re not there and maybe we’re just visiting different parts. I cleared my throat-- “ever go there?” I finished. Now my crazy was out there, painted huge and colorful like a poster.

Her eyes shot upward, wide and nervous. The microwave buzzed and she disentangled herself from my almost embrace.

“What?” she asked, taking the bag out and shaking it. “You go there?”

I planted both hands on the counter top and made myself nod my head. Somehow sharing this with her made me feel stronger, even though I didn’t know what she thought of it.

“This whole thing is really weird,” I said. “We’ve got to go find Pete.”

“What?” she asked. “I tell you I’m having the same crazy dreams as you and you tell me we’ve got to go find Pete? Doesn’t it seem to you like we should...do something else?”

“Jewel,” I said. “Who else do you see? When you touch me.” I held my hand out to her, fingers spread wide. Gently, she placed her palm against mine. She looked up at me with her green eyes.

“Lexia,” she said quickly, pulling her hand back. “I see Lexia.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

“And?” I prompted. She turned away from me, frantically looking for something to do in the clean kitchen. She opened cupboards and looked in the dishwasher. She looked in the fridge. There was really nothing to do but face me and answer my questions. I stepped in front of her, forcing her to look at me again. “And?” I prompted again.

“And Pete,” she said quietly.

“That’s why we need to go find Pete,” I said. Would he still be here? His strange counterpart in Eloria was dead. I swallowed hard and tried not to think about that.

“But Nix,” Jewel said, “There’s nothing wrong with Pete or me. You’re locked up in a psych ward.”

“Well,” I said. “You probably just haven’t gotten caught talking to Lexia.”

“Talking to Lexia?” she asked. “Like at her graveside or something?”

“No,” I said. “When you see her. You see her all the time, right?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You see Lexia? Here? I mean, not here here; like, at school and stuff.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s why they think I’m crazy.”

“Is she here now?” Jewel asked, looking around.

“Here here?” I said, “Or like here somewhere else.”

She punched me in the arm. It sent a jolt down to my wrist.

“Ow,” I said, cupping my stitches. Jewel’s face went white.

“Oh crap,” she said. “I’m really sorry. Should I get you some ice or Tylenol or something?” She scrambled around the kitchen again, frantic energy trying to translate itself into useful motion.

“No,” I said, taking her by the shoulders to stop her motion. “Get your keys. Let’s go get Pete.”

She looked up at me and nodded.

“Hey,” I said. “I need some shoes. And a coat.”

I was so tired of being cold.

But it wasn’t cold any more.