Radium Halos (5 page)

I woke groggy
sometime later. It took me a moment to remember what happened.
Uugh! What a lousy night.
The cut-off of the engine told me
we were in Dad’s driveway. He cleared his throat and I heard him
move to reach over to the passenger seat, probably grabbing his
bag. When he opened the door, the irritating beeping sounded to
remind him to take the keys from the ignition.

Reaching for
the handle, I pulled myself up and crept outside. The cool air made
me shiver. I hugged myself and groggily made my way to Dad’s front
door. A figure stood silhouetted in the light on the porch. I
groaned, wishing I had the ability to disappear, or better yet,
some supernatural power to make my mom disappear.

Mom began
shouting at Dad, oblivious to the late hour. “You bastard! Why
didn’t you call me sooner?” She stamped her foot. “She could’ve
been seriously hurt.”

Dad said
nothing. He put his arm around my shoulders and helped me inside
the house, and whispered to me, “She’s just worried about you.”
Once we were through the front door, he turned back to corral my
unbelievably loud mother. She wouldn’t shut up.

“She could’ve
drowned, or been hit by lightening or --”

“Bev,” Dad
said, using his doctor-talking-to-the-patient voice, “why not come
inside and I’ll make you a cup of coffee. You must be cold from
waiting.” Good ol’ Dad, making her think it was in
her
best
interest to come in.

They came
inside, Dad holding the door for my stomping mother. She paused in
front of me and began touching and patting me everywhere.

“Are you hurt?”
Pat, pat, pat.

“No, Mom. Stop.
Nothing’s broken. Dad’s already checked me out. I’m fine.”

“We should take
you to the hospital. Who knows what rodents are living in that
mine.”

I stepped out
of her reach. “I’m alright.” I glanced at Dad for help.

He smiled and
shrugged, as if saying “what can you do?” He squeezed my shoulder.
“Let’s talk over a cup of coffee, Bev.”

Mom glared at
him. “You’re right we’re going to talk.” She stormed into the
kitchen.

Dad gave me a
sympathetic smile. “I’ll calm her down. Why don’t you go on and
clean up.” He pulled at a strand of my hair, dried dirt feel to the
floor.

That’s why I
loved him. He got me without having to explain things sometimes.
“Thanks. I’m gonna jump in the shower. I stink.”

“--and I think
there’s more mud on you than most pigs.” He hugged me tight,
pulling away when my mother called out she couldn’t work the coffee
machine. I smiled. Dad had one of those automatic coffee makers. It
made lattes, hot chocolates, the works. Actually, a drink sounded
really good.

He must have
seen my face. “I’ll make something hot and soothing for you to
drink, and put it in your room.” He kissed my forehead. “Good
night, sweetie. I’ll see you in morning.” He headed down the hall
to the kitchen.

I shook my head
when Mom started in on Dad. She always did that. Whenever she
couldn’t handle a situation, she blamed it on him. She didn’t mean
to but it was her way of dealing with crap. Plus tonight she talked
so bloomin’ loud, it grated on my ears. She just didn’t know how to
handle intense situations.
If she’d just leaned on Dad instead
of blaming him, maybe…
I forced the thought out of my head. I
loved my mom and she was great. She just had a tendency to
over-react. Usually it wasn’t a big deal but tonight, I just
couldn’t handle it.

I headed to the
room Dad had set up for me five years ago when he’d bought the
house shortly after their separation. I lived with Mom but slept
here as much as I could. I grabbed a pair of cotton pj bottoms with
a tank top and headed downstairs. Dad had this awesome huge double
shower installed down there.

Turning both
jets on high, I stripped down and stepped in. The hot water pounded
on my back and top of my head. It felt awesome. The power of the
jets drowned out my parents’ voices. A headache began creeping up
the back of my neck and spreading like a vice around my head. I
washed my mud-caked legs and scrubbed the dirt out of my hair. If
my head didn’t hurt so badly, I’d have enjoyed the shower longer.
All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and vanish for the next
hundred hours. I never got migraines and this felt
debilitating.

I dressed and
paused at the kitchen entrance. Dad had calmed Mom down. They each
sat on a bar stool, having a glass of wine. Mom was laughing at
something Dad said, her slender fingers resting on his bicep.

She stood when
she saw me and came over to give me a hug. “Glad you’re okay.” She
kissed my forehead. “Ready to go?”

“I-I…uh…” I
stood there in pjs and she wanted to take me home? Some people were
actually getting up at this time to go to work!

“Bev.” Dad
rested his hand on her shoulder. “Why not let Zoezey sleep here.
It’s almost morning, and she’s exhausted.”

Her brows
creased together and she opened her mouth.

“Mom,” I
interrupted, stopping any chance of her speaking. “My head’s
killin’. I’m gonna lie down. You finish your wine. If I’m still
awake when you’re done, I’ll come back with you.”

She nodded and
from behind her shoulder, Dad winked at me.

“G’night.” I
turned and headed upstairs, not waiting for their wishes or kisses.
I shuffled to my bedroom, barely able to keep my eyes open from the
pounding in my head. I really had a new sympathy for migraine
sufferers. If I could fall asleep before it hit full-on, I’d avoid
the worst of it. I stumbled into bed, shoving the pillow over my
ears to drown out my parents. They were so hot and cold, sometimes
I felt like the adult.

Noises all
around screamed deep into my ear canals. There was no escape into
darkness, just the shards and fracturing across the inside of my
eyelids. Too exhausted to fight, I lay there tortured, unable to
move.

Chapter
4

Ka-poosh!…
Ka-poosh... Kapoosh!

I groaned and
threw the duvet over my face. When that didn’t deafen the
jackhammer outside, I grabbed the pillow and stuffed it over my
head.
It’s freakin’ Sunday morning and Dad’s idiot neighbour has
to rip the concrete out of his driveway NOW?

Ka-poosh!

Bolting
upright, I chucked the pillow at the closet. The noise continued to
echo in my ears and ricochet inside my head. I glanced at the
nightstand, swearing I’d just heard the click of the numbers
changing.
Impossible. Seeing as it’s freakin’ digital
.

Six a.m., right
on the button.

Rubbing my
eyes, I checked again. Yeah, I’d read it correctly. I banged my
head against the pillow. Except it wasn’t there. It lay on the
floor by my closet.

Three hours of
sleep.
Seriously?

I punched the
mattress and pushed myself out of bed. I jerked back, startled when
an echo from the bed’s springs squealed against my ear drums.
Stomping to the window, I flipped open Dad’s expensive California
shutters. The street below lay void of life. The neighbour didn’t
have a hard hat crew jacking up the concrete; only his Lexus sat in
the driveway. Dad lived in the rich side of town where all the
professional doctors, lawyers and whoever were all still in bed
this morning. Only a stupid fly with an annoying buzz banged into
the glass a few times before finally taking off.

Still, the
Ka-poosh noise didn’t stop. I turned from the window and slumped
against the wall. I shut my eyes tight as more sounds crashed
against my eardrums -- my father snoring…a dog barking…the fridge
running…a screen door slamming…

My eyes shot
open.
Dad’s asleep so why would the back door be closing?
My
brows mashed together.
Wait. He doesn’t have a screen door.
It was one of those metal doors with the fancy rainbow glass.
Maybe the neighbors?

Heart pounding
against my ribs, each rapid beat reverberated inside my skull, like
church bells. My head hurt like hell. Last night’s thunderstorm
fiasco came flooding back. The creepy mine, the weird blue skin,
Mom and Dad’s fight, and the exhaustion.

Too tired to
notice pretty much anything. Maybe I’d caught a cold.
Ear
infection?
I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose.
No pressure or congestion.
I feel good, like I’ve slept ten
hours instead of three.
I snorted but stopped instantly, the
noise seemed to scream into my hearing canal.
Well, my body
feels rested
.
My head feels like a train wreck between the
ears.
I plugged my ears.

Ka-poosh!

I marched out
of the room, determined to find whoever was responsible for the
annoying sound. I trudged through Dad’s entire backsplit, nearly
falling down when I got to the bottom of the basement stairs. The
ka-poosh
noise became clearer. I yanked the bathroom door
open, not giving a crap who might be inside. About to yell, my
voice froze in my throat.

No drill or
jackhammer here either, but the noise was deafening. Plugging my
ears again, I walked to the shower. “Holy crap.” I jumped back,
surprised that even my voice sounded way too loud to my poor ears.
The stall stood vacant, but the faucet hadn’t been completely shut
off. Water dripped from the showerhead, making the distinctive
ka-poosh
sound.

How in the
world did I hear that tiny drip from upstairs in my bed?
How’d
it wake me up?
As I realized the sound, it blended in with the
other noises of the house. Distinct, but everything else I heard
seemed to be fighting for attention inside my head. I could even
hear Dad snoring three floors up.
I’m like a bloody animal. If
someone blows one those dog whistles I’ll probably hear it and
start howling.

Cranking the
faucet tight, my thoughts drifted back to the mine. I never planned
on stepping foot inside there again… ever.
Ear wax.
I
grabbed two Q-tips and tried clearing my ears out. It sounded like
a river rushing though my head. The tips came away barely dirty.
What the --?

I pushed the
rising panic aside and tossed the tips in the garbage can. I tugged
at my ear lobes as I made my way up the stairs. I needed some Advil
and breakfast. Hopefully, that would clear my headache and my
hypersensitive ears.

Once inside the
slightly clinical-feeling, chrome-filled kitchen, I popped waffles
into the toaster. After setting my plate as quietly as I could on
the little breakfast bar in the middle of the room, I swung open
the fridge to grab syrup. I squawked when a high pitched urrrr
sound grated in the air. Grimacing, I whirled around to trail the
sound.
Toaster
. There must’ve been some kind of short in it.
I jerked the cord from the wall, my shoulders instantly relaxing. I
hadn’t even noticed they’d tensed up.

I stared at my
white knuckles gripping the edge of the counter.
Something’s so
wrong.
I could tune into every sound in the house…and I mean
all of it, on every floor, and outside.
Focus, Zoe. You can
control this. You tune Mom and Dad out all the time.

I shut my eyes,
attempting to squash the building panic inside. Except closing my
eyes only enhanced my hearing into super sonic radars. I couldn’t
control it. My eye lids popped up at a sudden thought.
No human
can possibly hear with such clarity without help.

My chest
swelled and stiffened, ready to explode. The tightness crept up my
throat. I flipped around, leaning against the counter and stared at
everything. The dishwasher, the fridge, the clock on the stove, the
lights above me, a pounding creak near the stairs. Each time my
eyes settled on something, my hearing tuned into a new sound.
All the normal things in my life are now enemies invading my
head.

“Crap, crap,
crap,” I whispered, the heels of my hands covered my eyes and
fingers nails scratched into my scalp. The scraping on my skin
sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I shuddered. Even my barely
audible cry sounded like wailing to me.

“What’s going
on, Zoe?”

I nearly hit
the ceiling from Dad’s groggy voice. He stood at the kitchen
doorway in hospital scrubs and a creased white tee shirt.
Get
outta here. Fake a yawn, go back to bed. Avoid doctor dad.
His
creamed coffee colored hair had major bed head on the left side. He
walked to the fridge and pulled out a container of OJ, drinking
straight from the jug.

As I stared at
his large, bare feet, each gulp he swallowed bounced inside my ear
canals. His heart beat between each swallow --
glug-thump-glug-thump.
I swore if I concentrated hard
enough, I’d hear the blood rushing through his veins.

He put the
juice back in the fridge, and shut the door with his heel as he
turned to watch me. The concern on his face comforted me. I relaxed
my shoulders, but felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“You look like
you’re in pain.” He placed a cool hand on my forehead, and then the
back of my neck. “You’re a bit warm.”

I stepped back,
out of his reach. “I’m alright.” I took a slow, shallow breath in
and out. “Just a bit of a headache.” I didn’t want him to
worry…yet.

Too late. He
disappeared from the kitchen for a moment, and I heard him grab his
medical bag from the chair near the front door.
Crap! I don’t
need this right now. I just want to be on my own… figure this
out.
He reappeared and dropped the bag on the counter.

I flinched at
the loud sound each clasp made when he clipped the bag open.

“I want to do
some blood work on you. Who knows what got into your system at that
old mine.” He pulled out a needle and a couple of vials. “Sit.” He
pointed to one of the chairs at the breakfast nook along the wall.
“I’m heading into the office for an hour.”