Root (5 page)

I burst from the palms, abandoning the cooler
and towel, sprinting across the sand, kicking off my flip flops. I
splashed in next to a ‘no swimming’ sign, the water cool and
bracing, not nearly the bathtub warmth it would achieve later in
the season.

The sandy bottom gave way quickly to stone and
deepened. I angled in against the slight current, alternating
between an overhand crawl and a breaststroke, stopping to tread
water when I got tired. When I kicked into the deepest part of the
channel, the full brunt of the current hit me like a flash
flood.

The tide was coming out. I didn’t try to fight
it. With rip currents I knew you were supposed to just swim across
the flow. There would come a point when the current released you
and you could swim back to shore. The problem was, the shore was
getting farther away. The tide hauled me out past the
jetties.

An acid burn built in my muscles. My exertions
were unsustainable. I had screwed up yet again. I panicked for a
bit, but then this little valve opened up and all the fear drained
out of me.

Fuck it. If the ocean wanted me so badly, let
it take me. I quit swimming and drifted on my back, sinking lower
in the water as my paddling and treading. Strands of seaweed or
something wrapped around my thigh and tugged at my
wrist.

The sound of a screaming engine snapped me out
of my stupor. A speed boat came roaring at me. My fear returned. I
was not looking forward to getting run over and chewed up by a pair
of propellers.

I considered diving, but if I went under, I
would probably never resurface. The boat veered away at the last
second and curled around. Two guys in ball caps and sunglasses
yelled something at me. They puttered closer and one of them tossed
me a life ring attached to a line. I grabbed it. They he pulled me
in.

“
Jesus. You almost gave me a heart
attack,” said the guy at the wheel. “I thought you were some
manatee.”

“
This is a boat channel, you idiot,”
said the other guy. “We almost sliced you into chum.”

I choked out my words, struggling to catch my
breath. “Got caught … in the current.”

“
Where’d you come from?”

“
North side of the channel. Inlet
State Park.”

They got the boat pointed back towards the
harbor and powered in to the boat ramp. I went over the side and
waded in the rest of the way.

“
Thanks!” I said, waving, but they
had already gunned their engines and continued on their
way.

I stood there, kind of dazed, searching the
beach for that group of kids I thought I had seen. I found them
pretty quick, but they were not who I thought they were. But I
wasn’t even sure if this was the same bunch I had seen from across
the inlet.

I meandered down the beach, weaving through
the blankets, my soggy clothes plastered to my skin. Turning the
corner around the point, I found more beach, but no Jenny. Again, I
had come up empty.

While I was standing there, I caught some
Hispanic girl in a black one-piece staring at me. She was really
cute, with well-toned limbs and coppery skin, but I was so obsessed
with finding Jenny, her looks barely registered.

“
You look lost,” she
said.

“
That’s because I am.”

“
What are you looking
for?”

“
I … uh … I was invited to this
beach party. Can’t seem to find it.”

“
Bummer,” she said. She cocked her
head. “Wanna hang with us?”

“
Um … thanks, but … I really need to
find these guys.”

“
Okay,” she said, her lips forming a
perfect smile. “But … if you can’t find it. Come on
back.”

***

I never did find it, but not for any lack of
diligence. I walked the whole five miles to Avalon State Park
barefoot, reaching it about the time that most people were packing
up for the day. I roamed the parking lot, heart pounding hard,
knowing this was my last gasp to find Jenny’s party and catch a
ride back home.

I found plenty of old folks alone, young
couples and families with small children, but no one I knew from
Ft. Pierce High. As the shadows of the dune grass etched the white
sands like Arabic calligraphy, I sat myself down on the curbing at
the edge of the main lot, by a prickly bush studded with dried and
leathery fruits.

My head throbbed. I needed a drink of water
badly. There was a spigot and a shower on a little cedar deck for
people to rinse off. I waited for the queue to disappear, then went
over and drank directly from the spigot.

The sun was going down. There were only a few
cars left. I turned around and limped back down the road,
defeated.

As the sky darkened, my pace slowed. Every
step hurt. Cars whisked past me, with music thumping and people
laughing.

Maybe I wasn’t intended to be around people.
This whole social thing never seemed to click for me, whatever the
reason. Maybe my being here on earth was a sad mistake. Maybe I
should have volunteered for a one-way trip to Mars.

A couple of miles down the road, a police
cruiser slowed down abruptly and pulled alongside me. The officer
rolled down his window.

“
You James Moody, by any
chance?”

“
Yeah. Why?”

“
Your mother reported you as a
missing person. Everything okay?”

Chapter 5:
Sonic

Mom picked me up at the police substation on
Avenue D, looking disheveled but relieved. She didn’t say much,
which was good, because I didn’t feel like talking.

I hobbled after her, out to the car. The pain
in my feet felt like an abstraction, as if my brain had become
disconnected from my body. I cared little about what happened next,
no more than a tumbleweed worried what fence lay in its
path.

Mom didn’t say much at first, but at the first
traffic light, she studied me in the glare of the headlights and
streetlamps. “Look at you. You’re burned to a crisp. Did you even
bother to put on any of that sun block?”

“
Dunno,” I said, staring straight
ahead. “Don’t remember.”

“
Well, obviously not,” she said.
“You look like a lobster.” The light turned green. She powered
ahead. “Have you eaten?”

Food. That would explain the hollowness and
cramping in my midsection. Not that I had any desire to do anything
about it.

“
What the heck is wrong with you?
Are on drugs or something? I asked—‘have you eaten?’”

“
Um. No.”

“
So what did you have all
day?”

“
Um. A Mountain Dew.”

“
That’s it?” Her face got all
pinched and determined. “I’m pulling into this Sonic.”

“
I’m not even hungry.”

“
You need to eat.”

“
I’ll have something when we get
home.”

“
What the heck is wrong with you?
Are you ill?”

“
No.”

“
Then what?”

“
I’m … just …. pissed … at myself.
I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I stood her up.”

“
Oh stop. You didn’t stand anyone
up. You’re in mourning, James. Of course your sleep patterns are
going to be a little disturbed. She could have waited for you, or
called you, or dropped by. Something. It’s not all on
you.”

“
Wouldn’t’ve been a problem if I had
my own cell phone.”

Mom took a deep breath. “Listen James. If the
family budget allowed, we’d all have cell phones. And I’d have a
wardrobe that didn’t depend on 90% off sales. We might even have
that dog you always wanted.”

“
But cell phones are
cheap.”

“
She should have called you or come
by the house. Her family knows where we live. They sent us a
sympathy card.”

“
No. You can’t pin the blame on her.
This is my fault. I should have gotten up.”

“
I wonder what it says about a
girl’s character when she invites you to a party, offers you a
ride, and then just blows you off like that. A kid whose father
just died.”

“
Mom. Don’t blame her. Please. I’m
the one who blew it. It’s all on me.”

She turned into the Sonic a couple blocks from
home and pulled up next to a backlit menu board. “Okay. So what do
you want?”

“
I told you. Nothing.”

“
Fine. I’ll order for you, then.
Fries, two double cheeseburgers and a chocolate shake. How’s
that?”

I just stared out at the Miracle Mile and the
blinking yellow lights in front of the empty lot that used to hold
a Kmart.

***

I slept pretty well the first half of that
night, considering. I had to drag myself out of bed at one point to
get a drink of water. I was so dehydrated.

While I was up, I slathered myself with some
Aloe Vera gel and Lanacaine. Blisters were popping up on my upper
arms and shoulders. My nose and forehead were pretty bad too, but I
couldn’t stand the feel of having all that gunk on my
face.

I saw all those pills in the medicine cabinet
again and was tempted to grab some, but I left them alone this
time.

When I lay down again and started drowsing
off, those crawly sensations returned. And this time they meant
business. They went after me like a nest of anacondas, striking out
and squeezing me in their coils. I gasped and wheezed, jerking my
arms to break free, but they were so strong, and so
determined.

Loops kept wrapping round and round until I
was encased in a thick and fibrous capsule. I gave up fighting, the
way a gazelle relaxes in the jaws of a lion. Once I did, this
buzzing warmth oozed all through me. I grew calm as a baby yet to
be born, hugged tight, deep inside a womb.

I must have stayed that way for hours,
dangling in the darkness. Muffled thumps and groans sounded in the
distance. I peeked through a little triangle of space between the
roots at a patch of light glowing green on the wall of a perfectly
round tunnel, formed of roots but smooth as a culvert.

It all vanished when a sharp click and a
bright light snapped me awake. Mom leaned over my bed, raising the
shades. The morning sun violated my pupils. I shielded my face with
my hands.

“
Mom? What are you
doing?”

“
Well, it’s half past
ten.”

“
So?”

“
So you can’t just sleep all
day.”

“
Why not? Where have I got to
go?”

“
How about some brunch?”

“
Let me wake up first.” My stomach
whined in protest of my professed disinterest in eating. It begged
to differ. “What … what are you making?”

“
I’m not making anything. I thought
we could go out to the mall. How about the Cheesecake Factory? And
a little shopping afterwards? Maybe it’ll cheer us both
up.”

“
Um. Okay. I swung my feet off the
bed and sat in a slump. I couldn’t help looking at the sheets for
traces of the thing that had held me. I saw nothing there but
wrinkles and Lanacaine smears.

Mom picked my dirty socks off the floor and
tossed them in the hamper. She was all washed up now and looking
way better than she did the day before. She looked at me and winced
through her teeth.

“
That’s quite a burn you got
there.”

“
Yeah.”

“
Why didn’t you use any of the sun
block I gave you?”

“
I … uh … lost it. And … the towel …
and the cooler.”

“
James! What were you doing out
there all day?”

I opened my eyes and blinked, my eyes
adjusting to the brightness. “Looking for Jenny.”

She gave a deep sigh and started to reach for
my sunburned shoulder, intending to rub it or pat it or something,
but she held back, realizing it would probably only make me
scream.

“
If you’re so obsessed with her, why
don’t you give her a call?”

“
Nah,” I said. “It’s too late now.
What’s done is done.”

“
Why is it too late? You can tell
her what happened. Find out why she didn’t—”

“
Nah. What’s done is
done.”

“
What’s going on? You’re acting all
catatonic.”

I didn’t want to tell her. But she had this
imploring look that had a way of prying things out of
me.

“
I think I got a problem,
mom.”

“
O-kay,” she said. “What kind of
problem?”

“
It’s … mental … I think. I see …
and feel … these hallucinations. And it’s not the drugs. I didn’t
do any … not yesterday … and I’ve never done LSD or ‘shrooms. None
of that hallucinogenic shit.”

“
Well, that’s good to hear,” she
said, sitting down on the foot of my bed. “I guess. So tell me,
what is it exactly that you see?”

“
Roots,” I said. “All these
writhing, twisting roots reaching, wrapping, squeezing.”

Mom’s face blanched. She gasped like she had
the wind knocked out of her and buried her face in her
hands.