“You feel better now, don't you?” she asked as he set her down.
Actually, he did feel better. That surprised him a little. He shrugged the feeling off. “Yes. And I invited him to workout with me sometime.”
“You did? Thank you, Max.” Em planted a big kiss on his lips. “I have the sweetest, kindest boyfriend ever. Never leave me.”
“I’m here for you, Em. Always and forever,” he assured her.
“And I'm sorry for getting mad at you.” Before he could apologize, she kissed him again. My apology can wait, he thought as he returned her kiss. The kiss sparked a resolve deep within his marrow. Her kisses were like no other and had a bewitching effect. He'd help Lumpy. For more of her kisses, he’d carry the guy over lava flows, whether Lumpy wanted him to or not.
Chapter 2
“Where did I put that stupid pen?” JD wiped the sweat from his brow with one hand while continuing to search in vain for Tim's pen. He was his mother's latest boyfriend and the meanest one yet. They'd been together six months and already he had scars to prove it. Being knocked around by his mother's men wasn't new to JD. She liked the losers, always had. He'd seen her punched in the gut, tossed across the room, and shoved into a wall more times than he cared to remember. But this one, this Tim, had cruelty down to a science.
JD sank to the ground, fighting tears that fought to break free. He'd pay tonight. There'd be another punishment for losing Tim's pen. Another over the top beating. Probably with the extension cord. Tim loved the extension cord. He’d threatened to wrap it around his mother's neck last week if she didn’t stop coddling the fat lump, as Tim liked to call him. Yup, JD couldn't wait for this one to break his mother's heart and leave. “Better her heart than her head,” JD mumbled to himself.
Across the parking lot, Max and Emma held hands and stared into each other’s eyes. They’d been a couple for almost two years now. JD'd fallen in love with her the first time he saw her. But she could only see Max—as if JD stood a chance with her anyway. He frowned at his dirty jeans. His new hiding place wasn't exactly the cleanest one he'd ever found.
Max wants to help me work out. JD smiled to himself. Never had he imagined Max Sánchez would want to be his friend. Max. One of the popular kids. He played sports, had all the girls after him, and was voted most likely to succeed his junior year. A junior never got that honor. It had always been reserved for the seniors. Max got it both years. If only I were that popular.
He felt honored when Max offered to workout with him, and would have done whatever Max wanted. He’d have lifted the weights until his arms shook with exhaustion. He'd even take the beating Tim would give him for being late if it meant Max would be his friend. But no way could he afford to go to the gym downtown.
JD picked himself up, shut his locker, and started for home. He missed the bus in his failed attempt to locate Tim's pen, so he now had to walk. That meant he’d have to watch out for The Jerks, as he and Izzy called them. His stomach twisted painfully. They were a gang of kids who found sport in terrorizing geeks like them. They didn't say stupid things like Max and his friends did. That he could live with. It hurt, but he'd gotten used to it. Besides, Max seldom bothered him since he started dating Emma. No, these kids, these jerks were downright evil. JD wouldn't let his mind dwell on their past escapades. Too painful. He also needed to stay in the here and now if he wanted to avoid them on his way home. He barely escaped yesterday. Could he be that lucky again?
JD darted across the open field toward his house. Only two more blocks and he'd be home. He stopped to catch his breath. He knew the risks, but what choice did he have? He was a fat, lazy, butthead, and he knew it. The kids who teased him didn't tell him anything he didn't already know.
Squealing tires meant he’d been spotted. He took off with all the speed he could muster, which wasn't much at this point. His breath came hard now, and he worried his chest might explode. The sweat careening down his forehead burned his eyes. He turned into an alley behind a strip mall to his secret refuge: a dumpster behind Pet City, the local pet store. No one in their right mind would hide in a dumpster filled with animal waste. Unless they were desperate. And JD was desperate. He cracked open the lid, sucking in the last lungful of clean air he'd be breathing for a while, and dove in just as the enemy car bolted down the alley, skidding to a stop.
“Where is he?” shouted Nate, the ring leader. JD feared him almost as much as he did Tim. He slowly exhaled as the car door slammed shut.
“I'll bet he's in the dumpster,” Pam, Nate's girlfriend, said. She loved to taunt Izzy. It made JD's blood boil when she did, but he never said anything. Ever.
“Not even Lumpy would dumpster dive in there,” Nate laughed.
“Come on. Who cares? Let's go get something to eat.” This voice didn't sound familiar to JD and he sighed with relief knowing whoever it was wanted food over JD's blood.
“Keep your pants on,” Nate shouted. “Pam, see if he went in the pet store. I'll check the drug store. Mike, you go and—”
“Forget it. I'm not that interested. Either we leave now, or I'm out of here.” JD heard a car door slam again. Footsteps made their way to the dumpster, JD to start shaking.
“Nate, if he leaves, we'll have to pay to get into the drive-in. He has the free passes, remember?” Pam said.
Nate groaned. “Fine, but tomorrow we don't stop until we find Lumpy, got it?” The footsteps retreated before disappearing completely, and the car drove away. JD waited five more minutes, just to make sure they were gone, before climbing out of the dumpster. He shook off the animal mess from his jeans and t-shirt and started for home, peering around carefully as always.
Relief washed over him as his hand landed on the front door screen.
“Where's my pen, fat boy?”
The relief was short lived.
Chapter 3
“Max, slow down. That's your fourth helping of rice.” Sofia Sánchez removed the blue glass platter he’d emptied and loaded it into the dishwasher. No need to rinse it off, Max scrapped the rice dish clean.
“Great rice, Madre.” Max sprinkled some herbal concoction his mother had put together across his brown rice. It was her way of cutting butter out of the family diet. Max missed not having butter, but as his mother always said, “Your body is a temple. Treat it right and it will treat you right.” Max agreed, he just wished butter was on the okay to eat list she stuck to religiously.
“Everything was wonderful. Thank you for having me.” Emma smiled at Sofia.
“You are very welcome, dear,” Sofia replied. Max knew his mother thought that Em was the perfect girl for him. Strong, smart, and kind. She often told him that she couldn't have found a better girl for Max if she tried. He knew she hoped their love would survive the often turbulent years of college. She loved to talk about how beautiful her grandchildren would be when the two of them started a family, and she'd grown quite attached to her fantasy.
“Hey, what about me? I made the scampi.” Tom Sánchez waltzed in from the kitchen holding the last of the shrimp. He dumped it on his plate. Max frowned. “Son, after dinner I think we had better take you to the hospital. I do believe you have a tape worm.”
“I'm a growing boy, Papi.” Max leaned back and scrubbed his stomach. “And if I don't beat you at a friendly game of B-ball after dinner, I'm going to be growing the wrong way.” His dad chuckled as he popped one of the shrimp into his mouth.
Emma and Max grabbed the basketball while his parents cleaned the kitchen after dinner. “Max, I think we should help your parents,” Emma whispered to him.
“Em, every time I try to help them, they kick me out. My mom has a system for everything, and if I don't do it right, she goes behind me redoing it. Anyway, I think she actually likes cleaning.” Max took the ball and swooshed it through the hoop. “Nuttin’ but net.”
Ten minutes later, Max's parents joined him and Emma, and the game began. Max and his mom on one team, Emma and his dad on the other.
As Max predicted, he and his mom won, hands down. “Best three point shooter in the family, right, dear?” Sofia bragged to her husband. And rightfully so, she was indeed the best.
“Yes, dear, you are the best. After me, naturally.” His dad grabbed the ball, and with a fancy twist, he shot the ball, and missed. It ricocheted off the rim and back into his hands. He playfully bowed before Sofia, presenting her with the ball.
“I have to get going,” Emma said, after a long, cold drink of herbal iced tea. “Thanks again for dinner.”
Max walked her out to her car. “Are you sure you can’t stay for a little while longer? I’ll bet my mom will talk my dad into taking us out for frozen yogurt.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her close.
“Sorry. Big math test tomorrow.” She kissed him, a long sweet kiss, Max’s favorite kind. “I love you.”
“Times ten,” he answered back, repeating their little ritual. “See you tomorrow.” She waved and got in her red Acura. Max watched her until her car rounded the corner.
“I think the loser should buy the winners ice cream at the Burger Barn,” Sofia suggested to her husband as Max strolled into the backyard. Max smiled.
Max turned to his mother, scooped her up in his arms, and set her down carefully in the grass. “Dad, get a cold compress. Mom's delusional. She said the words ice cream.” Max fell on the ground next to his mother, laughing.
“Very funny.” Sofia playfully smacked her son on the butt. “If you remember correctly, they sell frozen yogurt.”
“Of course they do. How foolish of me to forget.” Max helped his mother up. The family climbed into Tom's new silver sports car and drove to the Burger Barn. As they ate their yogurts, Max couldn't help but reflect on how lucky he was. He had an awesome girlfriend and wonderful parents who loved and supported him in everything he did. Life's good.
Sitting half asleep in the back seat admiring the majestic sunset on the drive home, Max decided to lay out a plan to help Larry. Emma had a good idea. He should befriend the guy. He made it his mission to get Larry to the gym if it killed him, and he'd teach him the importance of eating right. Yup. Larry would be his project.
Max smiled to himself. He indeed had a good life, a very good life. He laid his head back against the headrest as his father changed the rock and roll radio station to talk radio. Not even that could dampen his spirits tonight.
His mother, however, felt differently. “Dear!” she snapped. She hated talk radio more than he did.
The next sound Max heard was the squeal of tires before his world went black.
Chapter 4
Max struggled to open his eyes, but they wouldn't budge, probably because of the fifty-pound weights on each. He felt a bed under him, and soft sheets—very soft sheets, silk maybe? Once again, he elongated his face in an effort to open his eyes, but no luck.
“Relax, Maximiliano. You're trying too hard. Take a deep breath and count to ten.”
Max freaked. Who told him to relax, and why couldn't he open his stupid eyes yet?
“Maximiliano, you must relax. Your spirit is still trying to adjust to life without a body. Stop fighting it,” the high-pitched, male voice insisted again.
That stopped Max. He even stopped breathing. Wait, am I breathing? Max couldn’t tell because now he wasn't doing anything but panicking. He strained to hear sounds, any familiar sound, but there were none, familiar or otherwise. No calming voice of his mother, no laughter from his father. Nothing.
Max had enough. He jerked his body upright. The silky sheet covering his body, his very naked body, slid to his waist. The shock of being naked in a strange place was just what he needed to infused him with the energy necessary to open his eyes. He blinked twice, fell back on the bed, and slammed them shut again.
He was dreaming. That alone brought relief to his poor heart as he calmed himself.
Okay, Max, what's the last thing you remember doing? A slow wave of memories flooded over him: scooping up rice, playing basketball with Emma, and eating ice cream. He frowned. Not ice cream, frozen yogurt. An icy cold feeling started in his toes and crept up his body as the memories grew stronger and more vivid. Emma cheering him on as they played basketball with his family, even though they were on opposing teams, kissing Emma good night, the car ride to the Burger Barn, screeching tires before the world went black. He'd been in a car wreck. His family had been in a car wreck.
He opened his eyes again, this time grateful he didn't have to work so hard at it. He peered about the room, the white, cold, immaculate room. He shifted his head to one side and caught a glimpse of someone holding a clipboard in his hand. Max sat back up slowly, keeping the sheet tight around him. He realized he wasn't in a bed, but rather on a table, like those in doctor's offices, only this one was extremely comfortable.
“You're not cold,” the little man with the high-pitched voice assured him. “You are missing your body, so you feel cold, but I can promise you that’s impossible.” He smiled and added, “Don't worry, it happens all the time.”
“Who the he—”
“No, no, no. You mustn't use language like that around here, Mr. Sánchez.” High-pitched man pointed upward.
“This is a dream, it has to be,” Max assured himself. “My family and I were involved in a car accident, and now I am in the hospital, probably heavily drugged to ease the pain from my injuries. Maybe I'm being kept in a medically induced coma. Whatever the reason, the drugs are just making me a bit loopy.” He lay back down, smoothing the silky sheet over him, hoping the nauseating dream would soon end.
“Maximiliano —”
“Max. You can call me Max.”
“Thank you, Max. I know this all feels surreal, but I can assure you that you’re not in a hospital. You’re correct about the car accident, and unfortunately, you and your family didn’t survive. Your father swerved and hit a pole, the force of which flipped your car twice. No one survived. I'm very, very sorry.”
Max stared at the curly, brown-haired man with green eyes, trying to decide if what he said was true, or if it was all part of the dream. He snugged the sheet around his naked body.
“You're not naked, Max. Or cold. It just feels that way because you’re used to having a body around your soul. You’ll get used to it.” The man gave him a comforting smile.
Max looked down, pulling the sheet away from him. He wasn't naked. He had on a white button up shirt and white pants. The only thing bare were his feet and hands. His golden brown skin offered a sharp contrast with his bland clothing. He rolled the silky sheet up and tossed it onto the bed next to him.
“So are you telling me this is heaven?” Max glanced around the dull, little room. “Because I can tell you if it is, the book got it all wrong. Where are the streets of gold and the pearly gates? And pain. I thought there was supposed to be no pain in heaven because honestly, my head is pounding.”
“This isn't heaven, Max. This is a holding cell.”
“Cell? Do you mean I didn't make it to . . .” Max couldn't even say it he was so devastated. He knew he wasn't perfect, but to be banished to hell seemed a little extreme for the things he'd done wrong. What happened to all of that God is loving and forgiving stuff he'd been taught all his life, all eighteen short years of it?
“I'm sorry. I forgot cell means prison on earth. You are in a holding station. Does that make you feel better?”
“You're kidding, right?” Max jumped off the table. His knees buckled, and he sank a few inches before steadying them. “If this isn't a dream, then that means my family really did die and that I am dead, too. And you expect me to be happy that I'm not in hell? Because frankly, it sure feels like it at the moment.” Sorrow infused every inch of his muscular frame. He clamped his teeth tight to keep from crying.
“Yes, of course. How insensitive of me. I can tell you your parents are doing very well. They've adjusted quickly.” The man beamed at Max. What about that statement was Max supposed to find comforting?
“Why
am I here then? Why aren't I with them?”
The man stirred the papers on the clipboard, clearing his throat a couple times. “Yes, well, it seems there's been a mistake. You see—”
“Mistake? I thought God didn't make mistakes.” Max failed to hide the panicky edge to his voice.
“Oh no. He didn't make the mistake, I can assure you. Gina Bellas, one of our new intern angels, did. It was her first assignment. She was only supposed to take your parents, but in her zeal she took all of you. I do apologize.”
“In her zeal?” Max rubbed his temples and paced the small space, his head pounding now. Considering the fact that he was recently in a car accident that flipped his family's car two times might have a little something to do with it. Or maybe it was dying—sort of—that had his head throbbing. His life was over. He wouldn't graduate in June, he . . .
“My ball team is favored to win the championship this year.” The gravity of the situation hit Max like a punch. “My high school is number one in the region. I'm the star pitcher. This is terrible.”
“Well, we do have a proposition, Max.” The little man settled in a plush white chair that appeared from nowhere when he snapped his fingers.
“How did you do that?” Max stepped back.
“Angel, first class,” beamed the man. He stood and held his hand out. Max stared down at it as if it were a venomous snake. “My name is Gabriel, by the way.”
Max's eyes jumped back to the angel’s face. “Ga…Gabriel as in . . .”
“No,” Gabriel dropped back into his chair, curtly adjusting his papers. “Not that Gabriel. I'm Gabriel from Poughkeepsie, New York.”
“Oh,” Max said soberly.
“I really should change my name. It's depressing to see the disappointment on people's faces when they discover I'm not The Gabriel.”
“Maybe you could go by your middle name,” Max suggested kindly.