Radium Halos (6 page)

Not in the mood
to argue, I dropped into a chair and grimaced as it creaked.
Slow movements, quiet as possible.
How could I have
forgotten that already?

I swear I heard
my tendons snap as I straightened my arm. Dad tied a tourniquet
around my bicep.

“Make a
fist.”

“I know the
drill, Dad. I’ve done this before.”
Wow, we’re having a shouting
match and he doesn’t even know it.

“Just making
sure.” He swiped the area with an alcohol swab.

I closed my
eyes, not wanting to see the needle go into my flesh. The sharp
pinch was enough for me. A unique buzzing filled my ears, and when
the needle pricked my skin and entered my vein I flinched. I picked
up a weird sucking sound, like vacuum and then the sound of my
blood whooshing into the vial. It took everything within me not to
pull away or try to cover my ears with my free arm.
Act
normal.
Three vials filled; each click and popping sound
discrete to my oversensitive ears.

I stared at the
vials and caught my Dad’s heart rate switching to a faster pace.
The blood inside had a purple tinge to it. Was that normal?

“There, kiddo.
All done.” Dad pressed a cotton ball and bandage on my arm. He
stood and put the blood into a mini-centrifuge container he kept in
the bag. “I’m going to jump in the shower, and then head out.”

“Do you think…”
I swallowed, afraid to finish my thought, “something…might be
off?”

He hugged me.
“No. I just want to double check. I have no idea if there’s still
radium in the mine. There might be uranium in there and if you kids
inhaled any…” He sighed and pulled away. “Everything’s fine. I just
prefer to err on the side of caution.”

I nodded but
said nothing. I’d heard the change in his heart rate again and knew
he was either lying or scared. So was I.

Dad squeezed my
shoulder and headed back to his room. As I watched his retreating
figure, I wondered why he’d never dated. He had a great job, he was
handsome and fit. Woman threw themselves at him all the time when
we went out or when I visited him at his office. Mom had done a
number on him. She’d broken his heart beyond repair.
Great. Now
I’m all sentimental like I’m about to die.

The pulsing
water from Dad’s shower broke me out of my wondering thoughts. With
my weird super-hearing, I listened to him step in and the water hit
his body.
Gross
I didn’t need to listen to his morning
routine.

Running for the
safety of my bedroom, I dove into bed, thrust my head under the
pillow and pulled the covers over. Dad’s electric razor sounded
like a lawnmower, even when I tried muffling the sound.

A part of me
tried to convince the rest of myself this could be something really
cool.
Maybe, but it’s a nightmare at the same time
.

What about the
others? Had the same thing happened to them?

I crawled out
from under the sheets and grabbed my Blackberry. Rylee and Heidi
were first on my BBM list.

I sent them
both a message: U ok? Let’s meet 2nite.

Dropping back
onto the bed I shut my eyes tight and counted the loud echo of my
heartbeats. It was easy to pick out the dub-lub sound my heart made
as blood poured through its chambers. I tried to block out the
horrible thoughts.

It was no
use.

My cell lit up
and its buzzing sounded like a bee’s nest.

Rylee replied:
WTH? I got a massive migraine + can’t stop crying.

Chapter
5

Brent

Somehow the sun
figured out a way to sneak through my blinds and stab my pillow. At
first it didn’t bother me. Half awake, the guitar dream felt too
good to be true.
Aw! Why couldn’t it be real?
When my left
hand started tingling, I rolled over. Sunshine clawed its way
though my closed eyelids so I rolled over and moved my head into
the shade. Ten minutes later the blinding light zapped me
again.

Irritated, I
flipped onto my back and grabbed the remote on the nightstand. Now
my right hand prickled. I must’ve slept on a nerve or something. I
pressed the power button and the fifty inch flat screen hanging on
my wall and it flickered to life. Much Music had some
greaty-eighties videos playing and the satellite info on the top
right corner showed just after eleven.

Eyes still
fuzzy from sleeping, I got up and staggered into my bathroom to
take a leak. Returning to the bedroom, I caught sight of my open
guitar case and ran my fingers over the wood of the Hagstrom. A
weird flash fogged my vision – I stumbled and caught the back of
the chair before I wiped out.

“Weird.”
Could I still be dreaming? Nah…
I bent down checking my
newest baby. If she’d gotten ruined last night outside the
mine…didn’t even want to imagine. Nate bitched and complained the
entire time in Europe about her bulkiness and me lugging her
everywhere we went, but I didn’t give a toss. It probably cost me
half my soul to buy, but the Hagstrom was worth every penny.

The case had
water damage on the base, but hey, that’s what they’re for. It’s
not like I couldn’t get a new one. Finally arriving home in my room
last night, I’d immediately opened it, paranoid it’d gotten wet.
Then I’d dropped on my bed too exhausted to get up, check it or
close the case.

The guitar
begged me to stroke her. I slid my thumb across the strings,
enjoying the sensation it brought. I strummed a few chords and
wrapped my fingers around her neck. No rush, I could play a bit
before heading downstairs.

The fingers on
both hands vibrated against the Maplewood fretboard and the
copper-cound steel strings. I pulled back. A tingling sensation
zinged from the tips of my fingers up my length of my arm. Staring
at my hand, I blinked. Brushing off the feeling, I leaned forward
to play again.

“What the--”
Again freaky tremors bounced against my hand and my vision
distorted. I tried to focus by squinting, but a shadowy silhouette
appeared before me playing my guitar. The guy in the Liverpool shop
I’d bought her from said she’d come out of a house on Abbey Road. I
hadn’t believed him, but the blurry guy in my vision kind of looked
like a young version of Sir McCartney.
Okay, my totally
overactive imagination is getting the best of me. I’m still
dreaming.

Or, Nate was
playing tricks on me. Maybe he had some electric trickle wire
leading to the guitar. I dropped to the floor in a push-up
position, intending to check the wires.

The moment my
fingers touched the dark floor, I froze. The hardwood thrummed
against my hands, and a clear image of what appeared, suspiciously,
flashed in front of my eyes. My folks sat in the brightly sunlit
dining room, directly below, having brunch. Dad reading the paper,
and Mom checking messages on her iPad.

I stood and
staggered backward, rubbing my forehead. Wait a sec---Nate couldn’t
have rigged my guitar. He left for UofT last week.

I grabbed a tee
shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. I groaned.
Ah, hell,
Rosetta had ironed them – again
. How many times did I have to
ask her to take them just out of the dryer? I preferred my pants
kinda crinkled. No kid my age ironed his pants. Complaining didn’t
help. She’d just start ironing my boxer-briefs and leave
smiley-face post it notes. I loved her anyway. She was our
housemaid, but part mom at the same time.

Giddy laughter
floated up the stairs. Mom reacting to something Dad said. I
followed their voices and the smell of freshly cinnamon buns and
coffee into the dining area, then shook my head at the moment of
déjà vu.
Say what? How could I know?
I gave my head a slight
shake.
Nah, it’s just their normal routine.
I clenched and
unclenched my hands, trying to stop the annoying prickly
sensation.

“You’re up.”
Dad folded his paper and leaned back in his chair. He wore a suit –
strange for a Saturday. “Surprising. You usually don’t show your
face till at least noon.”

“How’re you
feeling?” Mom ran a finger back and forth along her pearl
necklace.

“Fine, I
guess.” I shrugged, ignoring Dad’s comment. “My head’s killing
me.”

Mom rested a
cool hand on the nape of my neck. “You’re a bit warm. Do you think
I should phone Dr. Taylor and ask him do a house call?”

Dad
harrumphed.

“I’m fine,
Mom.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek smelling sweet perfume
against her collar. “I probably just need to eat.” I grabbed a
croissant, loaded it with ham and cheese and took a huge bite.
Tingling seemed to have finally stopped. I settled into the chair
across from my father and nodded at him. Mom wore a fancy outfit.
Both dressed up?
Probably going to one of Dad’s
functions.

“I’ve got one
of my surveyors coming tomorrow to look at the mine. He’ll run a
few tests on the uranium. See if there’s any trace amounts and make
sure the mine’s properly closed. That place is a sore spot in this
town. I’d like to see it turned into a golf course.” He glanced at
Mom. “I’m going to check with the city to see if that’s possible.
It’d be the perfect location and I don’t own a course. I’d love to
design one.” He pulled his iPad out and began making notes.

Keeping my head
down, I rolled my eyes. He wants a golf course? Now he thinks he’s
a designer? No worry his son might be full of toxins or
who-knows-the-hell-what?

“Nate called
this morning.” Mom slipped on her white suit jacket and
straightened it. She wiped invisible dirt off the matching white
skirt. She always wore white the last day before Labor Day. Said it
had to do with some fashion-thing.

“What’d he
say?” Nate’d be psyched to hear about last night.

“I told him you
spent the night in the mine. He wants you to phone him with all the
details.” Mom turned to Dad. “Time to go, honey. The invitation
said three o’clock, and it’ll take us an hour to get there.”

Dad sighed. He
stood and tossed his napkin on the table. “I’d love to have one
Sunday with no commitments. What happened to family days?” He
pulled his phone out as he followed my mother towards the hallway.
“Do you mind driving, dear? I’ll make a few phone calls regarding
the possibility of the golf course. If I can’t do it at the mine, I
want to find another location now I’ve got it in my head.”

Mom looked at
me and winked. “One of your dad’s business partners invited us to
his retirement party. I’m not sure what time we’ll be back. It
shouldn’t be too late.” She picked her purse off the buffet and
slipped it over her shoulder. “Rosetta put a chicken on the
rotisserie and there’s salad in the fridge. Don’t forget to call
Nate.”

“Okeydokey.” I
stood and followed them to the front entrance.
Their social
obligations always seemed to trump any possibility of having a real
conversation with them.
“See ya later.” I closed the door and
stood there a moment with my hand remaining on the door.

Startled, I
jerked away but kept my hand on the heavy, oak door. The weird
tingling sensation returned, but with a force that spasmed all the
way up to my eyeballs. The door was antique, with lead windows high
up on the top, but it felt like my fingers had drilled little holes
and gave me perfect vision outside…like a window.

I could see my
parents walk outside towards the three-car garage. My dad patted my
mom’s ass, which she reciprocated with a playful shove.

“What the
fu--,” I mumbled, pulling my hand away. The image disappeared when
the pressure of the wood left my fingers. Curious, I raised both
hands and tentatively touched the door with the tips of my fingers.
The entire yard came into view. The garage door opening, my folks
pulling out, disappearing down the drive.
I can see through
frickin’ doors?

Weird. But
while watching outside, I could also see the door in front of me.
It took a bit of focussing, but I figured out how to switch back
and forth -- inside, then outside, then back inside. Keeping one
hand on the door, I turned sideways. Now I could see the dining
room table, or anywhere else I looked, and still see outside at
will.

I could spy on
people – hot girls in particular – or play a killer trick on Seth.
The possibilities were endless.

“This is so
F’in’ cool!” I shouted to the empty house. No need to swear with no
one to hear me. My head pounded. Shouting wasn’t a smart idea.
Suddenly my brain hurt like a son of a bitch. Even my eyes ached
like they had weights on them.

I need my
phone.
It took everything I had to trudge up the stairs. Light
headed and dizzy I clung to the railing and tried to ignore the
tingling feeling now spreading to my feet.

Swallowing the
bile rising in my throat, I dropped to the floor when I made it
past the last step. Crawling towards the stand beside my bed, I
grew nauseous from the see-through floor because of my fingers and
trying to find my way through my foggy eyes. When I reached my bed,
it took everything in me not to hurl.

Still on all
fours and my forehead pressed against the floor, I reached on top
of the stand and let my hand find my Blackberry. Blowing a hard
breath from my lips, I gingerly sat up and leaned against the
bed.

Eyes open in
slits, I sent Seth and Zoe a text. Zoe and I had been great buds
since preschool. Too bad I didn’t have the courage to tell her I
wouldn’t mind being something more. Last night I’d hoped to ask her
out. Except she’d been googling over the new guy, and then the
thunderstorm screwed everything up.
At least I have this wicked
cool touchy-thing to make up for it.
My thumbs found the keys
and I didn’t even need to look at the screen.

Meet 2nite.
7pm PHP Have something cool 2 show u

I wanted to try
the touch-feely thing outside.
See what happens when I put my
hand on the grass.
I pushed myself up and leaned against the
bed. It took several deep breaths top stop the room from the
spinning. Walking like a drunk bum I made it past my door and down
the hall.