I Will Save You (27 page)

She nodded and we both put one of his arms over our shoulders and started moving him slowly down the campsite path, toward his tent. His legs barely doing any of the work. Peanut following right behind us.

“Don’t you think, though,” Olivia said as we struggled along, “it’s because of his son?”

“I think so.”

She shook her head. “How does anyone get over something like that? Losing a person so close to you?”

I looked at Olivia, wondering what she’d say if I told her how I lost my mom.

We finally made it to Mr. Red’s tent, and I held him up while Olivia unzipped his door. We got him inside and laid
him on his futon pad. Besides a small dresser there was nothing else, not even a picture of somebody. For the first time ever I saw Mr. Red as a lonely person. Even with all his women.

He blinked his eyes a couple times and looked up at me, said: “Can you picture it, big guy?”

“What?” I told him back.

“A tie on me?”

“You’re home now,” Olivia said. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Mr. Red looked at her, and then he looked back at me. You could tell he was too drunk to care what was even happening. “I just always wanted to ask about that,” he slurred.

“About what?” I said.

His breath was pure alcohol, which I knew the smell of from my dad.

“Should I get him water?” Olivia said.

“Good idea,” I said, lifting his head and sliding his pillow underneath.

She went out of the tent.

Mr. Red coughed and reached out his hand, like he was feeling for his whiskey bottle.

“It’s gone,” I said.

He grabbed his sombrero instead, laid it on his chest. “A nice kid like you, big guy,” he said. “It just kills me to think of it.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, Mr. Red.”

Olivia came back into the tent with a bottle of water and touched it to Mr. Red’s hand.

He took it and drank a little.

Then he handed it back to Olivia and pointed at me. “Why’d you swallow all those pills?”

I stopped what I was doing and stared at him.

I turned to Olivia.

Mr. Red let his hand fall to the mattress, said: “They told me in that meeting we had.”

“What meeting?” I said.

“I always wanted to ask,” Mr. Red said. “But it’s not my business. So I’m sorry.”

I kept staring at him.

My skin tingling.

Mind emptying out, like a whiskey bottle in the dirt.

“It’s just a thread, son. Why would anybody destroy it themselves?”

“What pills is he talking about?” Olivia said, touching my arm.

I shook my head. “I think he’s drunk like you said.”

Mr. Red mumbled a little more about the pills, but his words got too slurred to even understand. And then his eyelids slid the rest of the way down his eyes. And his breathing got heavier like he was passed out again.

“It wasn’t me,” I said under my breath, even though he was no longer listening.

“It wasn’t me.”

I backed away from the bed a little and stared at Mr. Red. Tried to think why he’d say that.

Olivia was still looking at me. “What was he talking about?” she said.

I shook my head, told her: “He mixed me up with another person.”

Mr. Red had one arm over his eyes now. His sombrero on his chest. I made myself a deal.

I could think about everything later. After I found Devon. After I did what I had to do.

“You okay?” Olivia said.

I looked at her and nodded. “I’m worried about Mr. Red.”

She nodded.

Me and Olivia waited like that, together.

In Mr. Red’s empty tent.

Not really talking.

Until Bill the Deacon showed up a couple minutes later and said he’d take over.

I walked Olivia back
to her tent, sensing it was weird between us, ’cause we were barely talking. But I had no idea what to say to make it normal.

She stopped three campsites away from hers, like usual. Peanut bumped into the back of my legs.

We stood there looking at each other, and she said: “I’ve known Red for years. I never would’ve thought he had a drinking problem.”

“I know,” I said.

She smoothed down the flaps of her ski cap and said: “Know what’s strange, Kidd?”

“What?”

“I don’t think people can truly know one another. I mean, really
know
.”

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my cargo shorts, considering that. Even though she’d brought up Mr. Red, it felt like she was talking about me.

“We only reveal what we want other people to know, right? It’s like we create these fictional characters for the public. And inside we’re somebody totally different.”

“You think everybody does it?” I said.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” she told me. “It’s just how it is. Everyone’s a puzzle that’s impossible to solve. ’Cause we never have all the actual pieces.”

I stood there nodding, wondering if we could even solve ourselves.

We were both quiet for a few seconds, and I watched Olivia
lean down to pet Peanut. Her ski cap back on and her straight blond hair coming out the bottom. Sundress and flip-flops. Rubber bracelets.

Even if I could never solve Olivia, I thought, I had enough puzzle pieces to know I loved her.

“So I’m gonna be at this college fair tomorrow,” she said. “And then my parents are taking my grandpa out to dinner for his birthday. So I won’t be around.”

“Okay,” I said.

“And I think I might know something I’m not supposed to know. I heard my mom talking on the phone this morning. It sounded like my grandpa and dad might take me on a surprise trip to New York.”

“Really?” I said.

At first I was happy for her, thinking she could find out about that laser treatment for her mark. But then I realized something. It was almost the end of the summer already, so me and Olivia didn’t have that much time left. And what if her trip made it even less? What if it made it nothing?

“Anyway, it’s not for sure yet.”

“But you heard them say it?” I felt like I was never gonna see her again.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what I overheard. Time to get my acting skills together, right? Pretend I’m super shocked if that’s what they tell me tomorrow.”

“Will you be back at the campsites?” I asked.

“That’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t know when we’d go. I have school coming up, and I know my dad would never let me miss. We’d probably go soon.”

I looked at the ground, nodding, feeling my depression
oozing back into my veins. It was worse than after I almost drowned in the riptide.

“Hey,” she said, lifting my chin.

I looked up and tried to smile.

“I got an idea. We should watch the grunion together. That way, if I go to New York we’ll at least have one last time of hanging out.”

“Okay,” I said.

“And you know what I was thinking?”

“What?”

“Maybe we could watch from that part of the cliff where we just found Red?”

I nodded. “He said I could use his chairs.”

“Awesome,” Olivia said. “It’s a date, then. I’ll come get you the day after tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I better go, though,” she said.

But then she paused, like she was thinking. “You think Red’ll be okay?”

“I hope so,” I said. “I’ll check on him soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” she said.

She waved at me real quick and walked the rest of the way to her campsite, toward her tent.

As she stepped in and zipped the door back up, I thought how she didn’t hug me again. And how this time there was nobody else around.

I jogged along the tide, looking for Devon, knowing everything was falling apart. The summer had been going so perfect. I met a girl. I had freedom. And a job. A tent. A dog to hang
out with. But now it was all coming to an end. I had no idea what would happen to me.

The only way it could be okay, I promised myself, was if I found Devon and did what I had to do.

I went all the way to the lifeguard tower and back, but he wasn’t on the beach. I went across the street to the train tracks and walked on the rocks between the rails. Devon wasn’t there either.

I went to the park and looked all around.

Then I froze.

Devon was just sitting there, near the basketball court. The exact spot I’d been the first time I saw Olivia on the swings.

“Hey!” I yelled from across the park.

Devon looked up.

A smile going on his face.

There was nobody else in the park. Just me and him. And I started walking toward the basketball court.

He stood up and pointed at me. “I wouldn’t do that, Special.”

I kept walking.

“Trust me,” he said. “I honestly wouldn’t come too much closer.”

I slowed down, said: “What do you even want?”

“World peace.”

I stopped.

Stood there.

“You know what I’m talking about,” I said. “What do you want with Olivia?”

“Don’t you understand?” he said, shaking his head, holding out his hands. “These rich people, Special. From the time
they’re born they get everything. And we get nothing. We live in shacks and survive on bread and water. Somebody has to take action, Special. Somebody has to
do
something.”

“You don’t live in a shack,” I said.

“Figure of speech, dude.”

“You live under the freeway with homeless people. I saw you.”

He started laughing. “You honestly think I’m that stupid?” he said. “Like I haven’t known this whole time you’ve been following me?”

I started walking again.

“I really wouldn’t do that,” he said, and this time he pulled a gun from the back of his jeans and held it by his side. “Don’t make me cap your ass, Special. These bullets are reserved for rich folks.”

“I know it’s fake,” I said as I neared the basketball court.

“Is it?” He looked it over, let it drop back to his side. “Or is this a completely different gun? What if the fake one’s still at the bottom of the ocean?”

“You went back and got it.”

“You willing to take that risk?”

I stopped at the opposite sideline from him to think.

A big smile lit up Devon’s face.

We were only a basketball court away from everything that was gonna happen.

“Why don’t you trust me, Special? I swear to God I know what I’m doing.”

“You want to hurt people.”

“Only the upper class.”

“They’re people, too.”

“People who hold us down. Who believe they’re superior. Who send us to die in wars that make them money.”

I shook my head. “Hurting rich people isn’t gonna help anybody.”

He smiled, said: “That’s always been the problem between us. Ever since we met. You don’t trust me.”

I stared at him.

“And this whole time, man, all I’ve cared about is what’s best for people like us.”

“You don’t care about me.”

“I care about you the most,” he said. “You’re my only best friend.” He looked down at his gun.

“You pulled me into that current. You tried to drown me.”

“I tried to save you.”

I shook my head. I felt so scared and frustrated my whole body was completely tense. My muscles ached. I had to tell myself to breathe. It seemed like the whole night was crashing down on me at once. Lying to Maria. And Mr. Red drinking and bringing up pills. Olivia saying she was gonna leave me forever.

And now Devon.

Holding a gun.

Lying about saving me.

“Look at you standing there,” he said. “All pissed off at me. When you should be focusing on more important issues.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that you know you’re gonna ruin everything. All your stupid rehabilitation. Your superficial love affair with the deformed rich chick. Your one chance at a real life.”

“Olivia’s not deformed.”

He sighed. “Aren’t you tired of this, Special? Playing this idiotic role? The polite little punk who calls everybody ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am.’ The dummy who’s too scared to tell his own girlfriend his honest opinion about anything. Why not embrace who you really are?”

“This
is
who I am.”

He shook his head.

“Okay, then who am I?”

“You’re exactly like me, Special. You’ve seen some bad shit and you’re poor. So they tried to hide you away from the world. In a freak show like Horizons. That’s why we’ve always been so close. ’Cause we’ve had to fight this thing together.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

He brought his gun up and cocked it and let it fall back to his side. “Do I really have to break it down for you? ’Cause I will.”

“I don’t care
what
you do.”

He shrugged with his smile. “Your dad was a poor, spineless junkie who beat the shit out of you and your mom.”

I shook my head.

“Your mom was a lonely wino who forced her own son to sleep in bed with her.”

“Stop,” I whispered, a lump already in the back of my throat.

He shook his head. “No, your dumb ass needs to hear this. How your mom tracked down your dad in broad daylight. Broke into some other woman’s apartment. Found him on the couch, watching cartoons. How she shot him in the face, Special. Shot him three times.”

“Stop talking,” I said.

“Then she blew her own brains out. You guys made all the papers, didn’t you, Special? You had your little two seconds of fame.”

A tear went down my face, and I wiped it off.

I pictured Mr. Red snapping his fingers and saying people could die in two seconds. I felt so sick I wanted to die. Right now. With Devon’s gun. I didn’t care.

“But here’s what you don’t understand,” Devon said. “When your mom put the gun in her mouth that day and pulled the trigger, she wasn’t trying to save you, like she said in that stupid letter she hid under your pillow. She was trying to get
away
from you.”

I pointed at Devon. “Don’t say that.”

“She was trying to escape from you.”

“Don’t say another word.”

“What are you gonna do?” he said. “You’ve never actually
done
anything in your entire life.”

I charged across the court, tackled Devon and socked him in the neck. His gun went flying. I tried to wrestle down his arms, but he slipped out of my grip and grabbed the gun and bashed it against the back of my head.