A Quarrel Called: Stewards Of The Plane Book 1 (20 page)

54. SAM

Melody’s hair was mussed and there were dark circles under
her eyes. I also noted that she was wearing her trademark bitchy expression.
“So what you’re telling me is that we have basically nothing? I
saw
the computer screen lines get all
jiggly. There has to be something there.”

I combed my fingers through my hair and shook my head.
“Maybe there is, Melody, but I can’t seem to get it to play, at least not here,
not now, not like this at three o’clock in the morning. I need some sleep and I
have a gig to prep for.” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice.

“Right, you know Lily for like, what, a month and suddenly
she takes precedence over me—your friends?
Over this?”

“Look. I’ll get right back to it on Sunday, okay? I have to
go to work in six hours, and then after I get home I have a few more hours to
finish my mixes. Then work on Saturday and the gig on Saturday night. I promise
I will look at it on Sunday as soon as I roll out of bed.”

I paused and put my hand on top of hers, where it rested on
the couch next to me. “I promise,” I said softly.

I acted like I meant it, and mostly I did, but the rest of
me was groaning at the thought of all the work ahead of me between the store
and the gig and the prospect of pretty much no sleep for almost three days
straight.

Her dark blue eyes shimmered a little bit, but she didn’t
cry. I could tell she was just frustrated and didn’t know what to do, and I
felt bad about that. But just
cuz
I had weird,
cryptic dreams, didn’t make me the guy with all the answers, either.

“We don’t exactly have ‘nothing,’” G. said slowly. I mean,
we do have the stuff I wrote down when the planchette was flying all over the
board.

“That’s right, we do!” Tara’s expression perked up.

Even Melody leaned forward, her expression clearing a
little. “What does it say?”

G. looked down at the tablet and frowned. He handed the
tablet to Tara who looked at it and passed it to Melody. I leaned over Melody’s
shoulder to read G.’s chicken scratch.

“She’s not who she seems,” I said aloud and looked up at G.
waiting for him to explain.

G. held his hands out, palms up. “Don’t look at me, man. I
was just writing down what you guys were pointing to.”

“
We
weren’t moving
the planchette,” said Tara, sounding frustrated for the first time that night.

“Maybe it’s talking about Melody?” I admitted that didn’t
make much sense, but I didn’t want to admit to myself what
did
make sense either – who
she
might be.

Tara slumped. “Don’t worry, Mel. We’ll figure it out. I’ll
ask the records tomorrow. Maybe I can come up with something.”

I figured that was my cue to vamoose. I picked up my stuff
and bent down to give Melody a squeeze. It was way too early for decoding
secret messages from the Great Beyond, and I needed some shut-eye.

Caterwauling and screeches came from beyond the door, so
loud and sudden that we all jumped in our skins. I recognized that screech and
ran to the door to look out into the yard. G. came up behind me. The shadowy
silhouette of Mr.
Smith,
back arched and tail puffed,
stared up at a spot on the roof of the clubhouse.

I stepped out the door followed by G. and the girls to look
up at the roofline and saw a flurry of wings as an owl took off in the night.
Could it be the same one? My skin began to crawl. There was something weird
going on with that creepy-ass owl. It couldn’t be coincidence to see both it
and Mr. Smith out here at the clubhouse at the same time, after a séance.

G. was squatting down near the cat, holding his hand out for
it to sniff. Mr. Smith approached, reluctant at first, and then bumped up
against his leg in a warmer hello.

“I think he likes you,” said Melody, stooping down next to
him. She reached a hand out toward the cat,
who
gave
her a perfunctory sniff, and then ignored her in favor of more leg rubbing on
G.

“Well, he certainly doesn’t think much of me,” she said
after the rebuff.

“Don’t take it personally,” said G. as he scratched the cat
behind its ears. “I saved his life last time we met. Maybe he remembers.” G.
looked over at me then, and we shared a moment. An owl had been
there
, too.

A creepy vibe was making its way between my shoulder blades.
“Shit,” I said under my breath.

“Go home,” G. said to me.

“Yeah, get some rest and stuff,” Tara said.

“Right.
See you guys. Get some
sleep, Melody. You look like crap.”

She threw an empty Solo cup at me, but I saw the ghost of a
smile on her lips, and for now, that was enough.

#

Before I knew it, Saturday arrived, work was over, and I had
a couple of hours to prepare for the rave. I had already packed all my gear,
but paranoid me, I had to unpack and recheck it to make sure I wasn’t
forgetting anything. I threw a couple of red bulls in my bag too, just in case
Lily tried to give me another concoction to drink again.

I heard a car door slam outside in the driveway and I peeked
out the window to see my mom pulling her suitcase out of the trunk of her car.
On the one hand, I was really glad to see her. Despite her faults she was still
my mom, and since she had gotten promoted and started to travel so much, I felt
like I had hardly seen her. On the other hand, her being home, right now,
complicated things. She would never let me stay out all night
DJing
a rave. Shit.

“Dude, I need you to cover for me,” I said into my phone the
moment G. picked up.

“Sure. What’s going on?”

“My mom just got home and I have to DJ that
rave
tonight. There’s no way she’s going to let me stay out
until four a.m. doing that. No freaking way. I need to tell her I’m going to
your house to spend the night.”

“Yeah, man. That’s cool. I’ll tell her you have to help me
with a project or something.”

“During the summer?
That won’t
fly.”

“It will if I tell her it’s for an Eagle Scout badge.”

“You’re an Eagle Scout?” I asked, feeling like I suddenly
didn’t know G. at all.

“Yeah.
I don’t talk about it much.
It’s something I usually do with my Dad.”

“Whatever. That’s brilliant. Thanks – I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do.” We hung up. G. wasn’t so bad.

“Hey, you!” mom said from my doorway. “Long time no see!”

I turned to give her a big hug. I didn’t realize how much I
missed her until just now. “No kidding! How was the flight from Tokyo?”

“Long.
Too long.
My ankles are
swollen and my head is killing me. I hope you don’t mind if I pass out early
tonight and we catch up tomorrow? Jet lag is a killer.”

“No sweat. I was just headed out, actually.”

She smiled and touched my face for a second, like she did
when I was a kid. “Well, don’t be too noisy when you come back in, okay? I hope
to be in a coma by then.”

“Okay. Pancakes for breakfast then?”

“You bet.”

I was suddenly very glad I had cleaned the kitchen, finally,
or there wouldn’t have been any dishes to eat pancakes
on
.

“Who’s that?” she said, glancing out the window as a car
pulled up alongside the house.

My heart thumped in my chest as I realized it was Lily
coming to pick me up. “Ah, it’s my… Lily.”

Mom quirked an eyebrow.
“
Your
Lily, huh? Well maybe I can meet her tomorrow when I
don’t look like death warmed over?”

“Sure, Mom.
That’d be cool,” I
said, hoping I wouldn’t look like death warmed over after being up all night
spinning.
“
Gotta
go.
See you
in the morning.”

“In the morning,” she promised. “No trips for at least two
weeks.”

“Awesome,” I said, and I was surprised to find that I meant
it. I was glad I had thrown out all the liquor, too. Maybe she’d dry out a
little bit if she stayed home that long. I didn’t want to tell her that she
smelled like stale airplane air and scotch but… she really needed a shower. I
picked up my bag from the bed, gave her a peck on the cheek, and headed out.

“I need some food,” said Lily.
“You
hungry?”

My stomach rumbled a bit, and I realized I was. “Yeah, I
haven’t eaten since breakfast. And one breakfast taco is not enough to keep me
going all night.”

“I know this little place over on Henderson that has good
burgers. It’s called The Blossom.”

The idea of running into Melody or G. and Tara tonight
before my gig made me groan inside. “I was thinking pizza? There’s Tony’s over
on Broadway.”

“Oh, good call,” she said, and made a left at the next
intersection. “I’ve haven’t had Tony’s in forever.”

Conversation lagged a little as we drove, and finally she
said, “What’s eating you?
Something on your mind?”

“My mom,” I lied. I’d actually been thinking about the
cryptic Spirit Board message. I cast a sidelong glance. “She just got home from
a business trip, and I feel guilty about leaving, but she’s jet lagged anyways,
so I offered to make her pancakes in the morning.”

“Pancakes, huh? I like a guy who can cook.”

“You know it, baby. I make hot cakes like nobody’s
business.”

She turned into the parking lot then, just as her phone
rang, preventing me from saying something even more awkward. She retrieved her
phone from her cup holder and looked at it. “Hey, I
gotta
take this. It’s my boss.”

“Sure, I said. “I’ll just go inside and find a table.”

But she’d already stopped paying attention to me; her body
posture changed from open and engaging to stiff and businesslike as she took
the call. I thought that was strange and filed the info away for later.

I watched her from the restaurant for a little bit while she
finished her conversation. I had gotten us a booth next to the window and took
the liberty of ordering her a soda. I didn’t realize how pale she was until
just now, with the late afternoon Texas sunlight hitting her skin hard. She
wasn’t sweating, but her face was flushed from the heat, and although her
posture was rigid, her hands moved in an agitated manner. She took one glance
toward the restaurant and saw me looking at her through the window, and then
turned her back so that I couldn’t see the rest of the exchange.

“Sorry,” she said a few moments later as she came in and sat
across from me. “He wanted me to,
ah,
work tonight and
I told him I was otherwise… engaged.”

She gave me a grin and her eyes twinkled, but I could feel
some sort of weird tension now that wasn’t there before.

“No sweat. The waitress only just brought the menus over a
minute ago anyways.”

“Sausage and mushroom?”

“Sure, as long as we leave off the mushrooms.”

“Not into fungus, eh?
I see how you
are.”

“Not so much. But sausage and
onion, that
I can do.”

“
Mmmm
, I’m not really into onion
breath, you know, later.”

I blinked. “Well, in that case, load up on the mushrooms.”

55. G.

“So you and Melody broke into someone's garage?”

Tara sighed in exasperation. “Yes, we did, and we found
clues left by Matthew. And we didn't get caught, and oh yeah, did I mention
that she had a key? Can we be done talking about this
now,
I'm trying to tell you about the Akashic Records.”

I guess I just couldn't let it go. "But you could have
been caught. You could have gotten arrested."

“I know. It’s not my normal modus operandi, but I swear, it
felt like something we had to do.”

“What did you find?”

“Besides the evidence of a whole lot of
blood?
An old photograph from a few years ago, a small pyramid made from
stone with something carved on it and some other stuff. Esme thinks it was a
kind of warding spell.”

I flopped down on her bed and pulled a pillow over my face.
I was beginning to sympathize with Melody a little bit. It seemed like too much
to believe in too short a time. We didn’t have anyone to teach us what to do,
and we didn’t have anyone to tell us what we should or shouldn’t believe. I
mean, really? Stone pyramids and plastic hockey pucks with crystals in them?
And yet, I had wielded a glowing sword made of light that only one other person
claimed to be able to see, and somehow
that
was okay. “I just wish I knew what was going on so that we could formulate a…
you know, a plan or something.”

“That’s what I have been trying to tell you. I can help with
that.”

“How?”

“By accessing the Akashic Records.
You just need to think of some very specific questions that you have, and I can
do my trance thing and you can ask them. But you need to be literal with your
questions or else you’re going to feel like you’re trying to solve a riddle.”

“What like, ‘what
is
2 + 2’?”

“Not exactly, more like, ‘In mathematics, what is the sum of
2 + 2?’. It’s like asking a computer. You have to be specific. You can’t just
ask what color the sky is, because you might get a scientific explanation of
why it
appears
to be blue instead of
just the answer ‘blue’.”

And then suddenly I didn’t really care about the Akashic
records at that moment, because I was staring at her and thinking about how
cute she was when she got all worked up about something—her hands gesticulating
and her crazy Rapunzel hair blowing around as she really got into her argument.

“I know what else is blue,” I said, my voice suddenly a
little deeper, huskier. I couldn’t help it. She tripped all my triggers.

“What?” she said, stopping in mid-
explanation.
Then she saw the look in my eye and pursed her lips coyly. “And what is that?”

“Your eyes are blue. I bet they’d be even bluer without
those glasses on.”

“You think so?” she took the glasses off and tossed them to
the side. Then she batted her eyelashes at me like some sort of Shakespearean
damsel.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I need a closer
look.” I scooched up along the bed to meet her face-to-face, where she was
sitting on the floor.

“And what about now?” she said, her voice almost a whisper,
her strawberry lip gloss taunting me with its scent.

“I was right. Blue is my favorite color,” I said, now only
inches away. And then I swooped in and kissed her. The slightly sticky gloss on
her lips was sweet and her breath tasted like root beer. Anyone who ever said
that they’d rather play video games than kiss a girl has obviously not kissed
the right girl.

She reached her hand up to curl around my neck and that was
all I needed to chase the last vestiges of Spirit Board from my brain. Right
now, all that existed for me was her.