“Are you listening to me? I had a vision that something really horrible is gonna happen to Tommy. It’s like the day we fell through the ice. I know it’s gonna happen soon, in the sand dunes.”
This seemed to grab her attention, “What are you saying?”
“Listen dammit! I’ve said it twice already, pay attention. I’m telling you we gotta convince Tommy to stay out of the sand dunes. He won’t listen to me, but he might listen to you.”
“What’s gonna happen?” Now she was listening intently, and so was Rafe.
“What do you think would have happened that day on the ice if I hadn’t gone with you? You’d be six feet in the ground right now. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had let you take that walk alone.”
“Are you saying Tommy’s gonna die?” Sheesh, not an ounce of appreciation. What a bitch.
“Yes, exactly, if you don’t keep him out of the sand dunes, he’s toast. Are you gettin’ it yet?”
It was right then, at the moment Rachelle had truly begun to listen to me, that Tommy pulled into the parking lot with three other guys in his Jeep Wrangler. Rachelle’s face said it all. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes as she started to back away towards the Jeep. She had laid a trap, and my stupid ass stepped right into it.
“Fuck!”
She just kept backing away. “Remember what I said, Rach! It’s on you now!” I pointed straight at her. And I already knew what this meant. I had failed again. “Rachelle, if you don’t do something, the consequences are on your head! And I hope you can live with it.”
Tommy caught the last bit of what I said to Rachelle and put his own spin on it, “Now it’s on your head, Mikey! Like I told you, I’m gonna kick your ass from one side of this park to the other!”
The ramifications of the situation started to sink in. Tommy was gonna die. There was nothing I could do about it. And the one person I tried to reach out to, the very person whose life I’d once saved, had betrayed me. Rachelle didn’t even know that the price of her betrayal was her boyfriend’s life. My frustration flared into rage.
It was all so fucking pointless.
Why should I be cursed with these visions? Why know these things if I couldn’t make a difference?
As I stood, self-absorbed, Tommy’s buddies fanned out to surround me. Justin slinked up from behind and darted in to snatch my skateboard from my hand. “You won’t be needing that!” He snickered.
Tommy took this as his cue. He moved in, malicious hatred glowing in his eyes.
Stealing my board was the last straw. A switch clicked. I no longer cared what happened to Tommy or anyone else. I was so flaming pissed off, and Tommy made a perfect target.
“You want a piece of me!” I screamed at him. “Come on motherfucker! I don’t give a shit if you die! Bring it on!”
Tommy stepped within reach, seemingly moving in slow motion as I exploded in a fury of punches, pummeling him back. Tommy retreated, trying to block with his hands up, but he wasn’t fast enough. I nailed him two, three, four, five times; left, right, left, right, wild haymaker swings, and hook punches. I reached past and through and over the top of Tommy’s lame defense repeatedly, adding several kicks to the flurry.
Tommy could barely defend himself, let alone get in a strike of his own. Blood splattered on his busted lips. His nose blossomed into a red splotch. One of my hits cut his cheek open, another blood smear. He kept backing away, trying to escape my insane flurry of punches. Tommy tripped and fell on his back. I was on him like flies on shit, punching him in the face as his head bounced off the concrete. I had him good, seated on his stomach. I just kept on punching over and over. Tommy’s hands flailed everywhere, but it was useless. Fueled by the insanity of rage, I unloaded into Tommy’s face.
Suddenly I was up and off him, being dragged backwards by two wrestlers, one around each arm. They held me in their damn grapple-grope grips. I tried to break free, but they had me good.
Tommy gasped and wheezed, spitting blood as he fought to catch his breath and stagger to his feet. He looked like hell, bloody lips and nose, a drool of blood running down his chin, a cut under his left eye that would surely be a nice shiner by tomorrow.
Tommy spit gobs of blood on the concrete and called out in a voice distorted by busted, swollen lips, “Hold him still.” Tommy lunged forward and kicked me right in the junk. Agony erupted through my groin and gut and I doubled over with the nauseating pain. Tommy stepped up into me with a knee in the face, catching my head down as the wrestlers still held my arms. My nose exploded as my head snapped back with the impact. I saw some serious stars on that one, and then I was gone. Out for the count.
I swam back to consciousness like a drowning man slogging to the surface. Sounds were distorted, slow, coming from all over. I heard a girl screaming “Stop! He’s knocked out!”
Her words were punctuated by another whopper kick to the gut, shoving all the air from my lungs in a wheeze.
Struggling to breathe, I heard Rafe, “Let him go or I’ll shove this board so far up your ass it’ll have to be surgically removed.”
Somebody else yelled, “I’m calling the cops!”
The hands that held me suspended in the air suddenly let go. I just flopped, limp. The back of my skull bounced off the concrete, a resonating drum pounding through my already aching head.
But Tommy delivered a final kick, right in the ribs. Just when I thought I was already hurt so bad it could never get worse, the creative little bastard found a way to add to it.
Fucker.
I heard his busted lip slur. “We’re outa here!”
Rachelle yelled at him repeatedly, “Leave him alone you son of a bitch. Can’t you see he’s already down? What a fuckin’ man you are. Need all your buddies to win a fight with one skater!”
This nutcase, schizophrenic blonde I used to worship swam into my blurred vision, tears streaming down her face. What the hell? She set me up, and then whines about it? Rachelle was one twisted girl.
When Tommy snatched her arm and pulled her back away from me, she screeched, “Don’t touch me!”
Rafe was there, standing over the top of me. “Just go. You’ve done enough. He doesn’t need friends like you.”
Though I couldn’t see her anymore, too blurry and it had already grown dark out, I heard the guilt and regret in her voice. “I’m sorry Mike. I didn’t …”
“You didn’t what? Get the fuck outta here. He doesn’t need anything from you.” Rafe laid into her.
Tommy’s slurred voice came through, a wet, mushy sound, “Come on Rach. Now! The cops are coming!”
Rachelle piled into the Jeep with them. “You’re such a pigheaded prick. I hope you’re happy. You look like shit.”
And though it hurt to move my face, I smiled. And then everything started to spin, along with my stomach.
I closed my eyes to stop the spinning, but Rafe kept shaking my shoulder. “Mike, wake up.”
And then I felt her there, her hands touching my face delicately, cradling my head in her lap. My angel, Nadia. She stroked the hair off my forehead.
All the other skaters standing around with questioning looks, asking if I was okay, faded into the background as I focused on her. My wonderful Nadia.
My nose bled all over my face and down to the side of my neck, my groin and stomach ached horribly from that wicked kick to the gnards. My right side ribcage throbbed with a spike of pain every time I breathed. Luckily, my face didn’t really hurt too badly, as long as I didn’t move.
Nadia caught me with those magical eyes, held my gaze steadily and spoke in a slow even tone, “You must rest. I’ll take care of you. Sleep now.” And instantly the weight of exhaustion pulled my eyelids closed. The very last thing I heard was Nadia calling to Rafe, “Help me get him into the car.”
* * * *
I dreamed of being in bed with Nadia, she was slip-sliding-snaking around me again. This time she licked my face and all over my lips, turning my head from side to sid
e, an inspection of sorts. She eventually worked her way down my throat and chest. She licked the knuckles of each of my hands, taking time to suckle on each individual finger. Then she licked my ribs on the right side, tickling me right where all the bruises and abrasions were. She even licked my elbows, attending to all the little scrapes and cuts she could find. Some were only recent skate injuries from the spill and tumble at the halfpipe.
At each point I could feel the soreness and pains subside, her beautiful little pink tongue was like a magic painkiller. Several times she returned to my face, licking again at my lips and nose. She smiled at me. Seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.
Nadia repeatedly worked her way down to my hands, my abraded knuckles that ravaged Tommy’s face. Then she reached down to undo my zipper, pulling down my pants and boxer shorts, stripping me. In my dream I winced with the agony of my bruised balls as she carefully inspected me for injuries.
This soon became the best dream I had ever experienced. Nadia administered her peculiar version of first aid to my groin, taking away all the pain and replacing it with wonderful waves of pleasure.
There was no hiding how much I enjoyed it.
Then the dream got really freaky. All my bodily aches and pains were completely forgotten under the sublime wonders of Nadia’s mouth and tongue.
I awoke hours later, 3:35 a.m. She was there, her arms wrapped around me, as usual. She was awake, lying across my chest, staring at me, concerned. Then I recalled her being there with me at the skatepark.
“How the hell did we get home?”
“I drove your car.”
“Wow, I don’t remember coming home. How did I get in the house?” I winced with the spike of pain through my nose that accompanied any movement as I tried to sit up and look at her.
She hesitated with the answer. “I … helped you walk in.”
“Was my Dad here?”
“He was asleep on the couch. He didn’t see us come in.”
“How much of the fight did you see?”
“I showed up when they were leaving. Very fortunate for them. I was too worried about you to go after them, but they’ll get theirs soon enough. Every dog has its day.”
“And the burning dog shit on their porches shall stink to high heaven,” I teased her, trying to smile through the throbbing pain in my head. I wished I hadn’t woke up at all.
“Well, that’s not my style, but I’ll take care of them.” She smiled, but it didn’t really reach her eyes, it was a Cheshire cat grin, a predator’s show of teeth.
“Well, I certainly had no idea you could drive.” I lost the desire to speak as all the aches and pains throbbed between my head, ribs, and groin.
“I have many hidden talents.” She traced her fingers down my chest suggestively.
“So I’m learning.” I laid my head back, willing the pain to go away. And I wondered how much of my dream might have been reality.
“Tell me what happened, I want the details of who, how, and why.” Not a question or a request.
She ordered, commanded, a voice filled with authority. I told her everything. I unloaded the whole tale with my head down and eyes closed.
I told her about the visions, all of them, past, present, and future pending. She took it all in stride, listening patiently. I told her about Bobby Krager, Rachelle and the ice, and then about the vision of Tommy. I explained how Rachelle had set me up for Tommy and gang, and then everything during and after the fight that I could recall.
She ran her fingertips down my temples in a soothing massage as she pledged, “I will take care of everything. This has gone too far. I cannot permit it to continue. It was a mistake to wait this long before getting involved. Now it’s my problem, don’t worry about it. Get some rest, stay home from school tomorrow, and get plenty of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
I was already drifting off back to sleep by the time she finished speaking. My dreams mercifully returned to the sensual little pink tongue of Nadia licking its way up and down my body, stealing all my aches and pains.
* * * *
Stendhal
“The shepherd always tries to persuade the sheep that their interests and his own are the same.”
Tiberius
“It is the duty of a good shepherd to shear his sheep, not to skin them.”
Chapter 14
Tuesday, October 26th
My nose and ribs still throbbed anytime I moved too fast, but my other aches and pains had virtually disappeared, almost like it had never happened.
In the bathroom mirror, I looked for any marks to evidence the fight. My eyes had a darker shadowy look, but no real black eyes or bruises to speak of. My ribs showed a slightly discolored mark where I’d been kicked. My knuckles had a couple of tiny scabs that looked days old. It was weird, a little bit eerie. I healed up super-fast. I vaguely recalled shadowy dreams where Nadia was actually licking my wounds, but dismissed it as just another of the many strange dreams I had when she slept in my bed. I had become quite adept at the art of denial in relation to Nadia.
I took the day off completely, hangin’ around the house. More like moping around the house. My skateboard was gone. Last time I’d seen it was when Justin stole it. That pretty much eliminated skating from my immediate plans. I didn’t have high hopes of recovering the board. A new board with trucks and wheels and grip tape can easily run a couple hundred bucks. There goes all my meager savings. I could always get something cheap or even grab a used one, but skate equipment is usually worth what you pay for it.
I watched TV for a while, listened to my iPod, and read part of a paranormal thriller novel by T.W. Luedke that I’d checked out from the high school library a couple months ago, way overdue for return. I turned off my cell phone earlier in the day and saw no reason to turn it back on. A very quiet, uneventful day off from school.
I spent half the day thinking about Anita, the way she acted after homecoming, the way she’d looked at me and walked away after that first fight with Tommy at school. What could I expect from her? Was it over? Was that the end of our friendship?
I didn’t have a clue where I stood with her. I debated calling her, but in the end it seemed best to just wait. I didn’t know what to say to her anyways.
And I had this, depression, this crappy, gunky feeling. Tommy would probably die. I had fucked that up. I hated the bastard. But did he deserve to die for being an asshole?
Hopeless. That’s how I felt, hopeless and powerless to do anything but watch these visions play out to their strange, gruesome ends.
Dad came home around 6:30 p.m. and we shared pizza from Papa John’s. I turned on my cell and noticed a couple texts from Anita and Rafe asking if I was OK, and I replied: CYA manana. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so I shut the phone off and fell asleep.
I woke later to Nadia’s cool hands sliding around me, cuddling with me under the blankets. It was late, just past midnight.
“Hi, honey, how was your day?” She mimicked some housewife sitcom personality.
“Super lame. I did absolutely nothing. It was so lame that it was kinda cool – if that makes sense.”
“No, but I don’t mind. Not everything in life makes sense.”
“Late night hunh? Wild party?”
“I had some things to take care of. But it’s all handled now. Problems solved.” She snuggled up with her head buried in my neck.
I worked my angle. “I realized my skateboard was stolen last night, I might be able to get it back, but who knows. Got any cash for a skateboard fund in your bag of tricks?” How does a guy get used to this kind of thing? I don’t know, but it was no big deal to ask her for money. It had become normal.
“Who stole it?” Her head popped up to peg me with that intense stare.
“Justin. He took it during the fight. I guess they were afraid I’d use it. I probably would’ve.”
She slipped her head back down into her usual spot in the crook of my neck. “I’ll get it back for you. But i
n the meantime we’ll get you a new one.”
“Can I get a side of fries and a milkshake to go with that?” I teased her.
“Go to sleep. Its late and you need rest.”
And of course, I crashed right out in her embrace.
* * * *
Chapter 15
Wednesday, October 27th
I felt pretty good all things considered. I’d resigned myself to the idea that Tommy was dead, sooner or later – only a matter of time. Slim chance that this one vision would be the only one that didn’t come true.
Nadia did exactly what she promised. She left a note on the dresser with $305.00 cash.
Dear Misha:
Here’s a good start on the skateboard fund. If it’s not enough I will get you more tomorrow.
Love
Natasha
P.S. The $5 is for fries and a milkshake.
She put a smile on my face first thing in the morning with her thoughtful note, a great start to the day. I arrived at school with hopes I might put Anita’s issues to rest, and maybe even catch a happy ending on the makeup. I still had enough money for a hotel room. She wasn’t in the library before school started, so I dropped her a text.
Mike: Hey sexy where R U?
Anita: Im sexy?
Mike: OOOOH YEAH! J
Anita: J @ Library now
Anita entered the library as her last message popped up on my screen. I walked up to her feeling nervous, unsure of where I stood. I took a chance and stepped in close to hug her. She accepted me as if we hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime, pulling me in tightly.
I whispered, “Did you miss me?”
She murmured yes in my ear. She was back, the affectionate, passionate Anita. The fiery jealous demoness was on hiatus for the moment.
“I heard about the fight. Justin sent me a text that Tommy kicked your ass, but then Rafe said that you were killing Tommy right up until Jim and Derek grabbed you.” She paused to run her fingers across my face to see for herself that I was unharmed. “I was really worried. Then you didn’t come to school, and I thought you were hurt bad, but my Dad wouldn’t give me a ride to come see you. And then your cell was turned off.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, she was almost crying. This was a far better reunion than I expected. Anita was truly worried. She obviously still cared, a lot.