Authors: K.M. Malloy
“Thanks,” he said, grunting as she helped him up.
“No problem. Let’s get you looked at.”
They limped up the hill
at a slow pace. Aire’s pocket burned with her new discovery as Troy kept taking worried glances back at Gary.
***
Both Aire and Troy were panting by the time they reached his popup canopy. She helped him sit on a
stack of
milk crate
s
before she filled up a bowl of water and began wiping away the blood on his face and neck. He winced when she touched the cold rag to the gash on the back of his head.
“Sorry.”
It’s alright,” he smiled, but the smile metamorphosized into a tight frown
as
he squinted his eyes shut from the pain. “Do you think Gary is okay?”
“Of course,” Aire said as she rummaged through the first aid kit for the hydrogen peroxide. “I mean, he did have a nasty crash, but if it was really serious we’d ha
ve heard the ambulance by now.”
Troy winced again, this time letting out a grunt as the peroxide bubbled into his flesh. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. They would have been here by now if he wasn’t okay”
She made small talk to distract him from the pain as she continued to clean and bandage his scrapes and gashes. She had just finished taping a thick gauze pad around his road rashed knee that was beginning to swell and purple when he tapped her shoulder. “Look.”
She looked up to see Gary sitting in a wheelchair with his arm wrapped and bandaged in a sling while Melissa pushed him through the maze of tents dotting the field. His little brother Paul and Dr. Caughlin followed
behind
.
“You look like you were run over by the trash wagon,” Troy called.
“I blame you,” Gary laughed, his speech already touched with a hint of slurring as the pain meds
Doc had given him
began to take effect. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”
“I blame you,” Troy said, and looked up to Dr. Caughlin. “So what’s the damage, Doc?”
“Well, the front end we may be able to salvage if we can
put in
new brakes and fuel lines. He’ll definitely need a new gas tank
and throttle cable
. Tires need to be replaced and-“
“No,” Troy interrupted. “I mean Gary.”
“Oh. Right. Gary,” Dr Caughlin said, and winked at them. “Lots of scratches and bruises, mild concussion, dislocated elbow, maybe some fractured ribs.”
“That sounds bad,” Aire said.
“He’ll be okay,” Caughlin said. “Paul, why don’t you go tell your dad what happened so he can bring his quad and trailer over here? That way poor Melissa doesn’t have to push him all the way home. I know he’s sick as a dog right now, but he’ll be okay to get up for your brother. Make sure you tell him Gary almost won too, that will make him feel better.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy nodded, and scrambled across the field, dodging revving dirt bikes and wandering toddlers.
“Now, let’s take a look at you,” he said, turning Troy’s h
ead to take a look at the gash that ran from his scalp to his shoulders.
“Looks pretty good. Nothing major but that is going to need some stitches. Do you feel any nausea or dizziness?”
Troy shook his head. “Good, no concussion. Your hip is out of place too, but I think a walk down to my office it should pop it back in. Take this pill for pain for now, and after the races I’ll meet you at my practice to get you some more and some antibiotics. Then we can get that sewn up.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Troy said, taking the chalky white pill from Caughlin.
“You’re welcome. You should be okay until the end of the day. Aire, you stay with him. Those pills make people a little funny sometimes.”
“Okay,” Aire said. “Do you think it’s okay for him to wait that long for stitches?”
“He’s fine,” Caughlin said. “And you,” he said, pointing his finger at Gary, whose eyes were beginning to glaze over. “You need to get home and stay in bed for a few days. Melissa, why don’t you start on your way so you can meet Paul and Mr. Owens a little sooner?”
“Sure.” She gave Aire and Troy a hug before departing. “Take it easy, Troy. See you both on Monday.”
“Bye,” Troy called.
“I’ll be on my way now. Always scrapes and bruises and arms to pop back into place during The Moto.”
“Bye, Doc,” Aire waved. She grabbed a water bottle from the table and handed it to Troy. “This is all my fault. I knew that jump was too close and should have told them to stop the race.”
“They wouldn’t have listened,” Troy said, and gulped down the large white pill Caughlin had given him.
“I know,” she sighed. “Story of my life. Well, do you want to stay and watch the rest of the races or go home?”
“Let’s stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I look worse than I feel, but that pill should take the edge off. And the bleeding from my head stopped
thanks to my talented nurse
. Might as well see something good today.”
“Yeah,” Aire said, pursing her lips to hid
e
her disappointment that she’d have to put off her investigation of her new treasure a while longer. She instantly felt guilty for the thought. It was amazing neither had any serious injuries, and for that she should be thankful. She offered Troy her hand and helped pull him up. “Are you sure you can even make it up the bleachers?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m fine. Besides, I’m sure someone will let me sit in the front.”
“True. Well, who should we cheer for?”
“Anyone not on a
Hornet
,” he said.
Aire laughed and helped him limp to the bleachers, feigning excitement for the rest of the afternoon, her thoughts transfixed with the new discovery of the strange thing that had been ripped from Troy.
Chapter Fourteen
Monday March 29, 2010
Population: 404
It took eleven stitches to close the gash in the back of Troy’s head, which had to be re-stitched the next morning. Instead of resting after the race as Caughlin had ordered, Aire and Troy had gone back to the carnival where a sloppy pitch to knock down some milk bottles tore the bottom two stitches loose. The following Monday the boys were at the pinnacle of popularity as they limped around the campus with their slings and bandages. Both reveled in the attention and never seemed to weary of retelling the same story. Aire smiled as their classmates oohed and ahhed over the dangerous event, but her mind was elsewhere. Her find in Troy’s helmet had her full attention, and she was happy to have the focus away from her so she could think.
The night after the race, she had walked Troy home for a change, and jogged back to her house. She’d rushed up the stairs to the bathroom and pushed the heavy towel and toiletries shelf in front of the door to keep out any intruders. Reaching into her blood soaked pocket, she pulled out the squishy mass of hair and flesh that had once been Troy’s nape still sticking to the tiny object, and washed it in the sink. Once clean, she held it up to the light for a closer look. The thing had been no larger than a grain of rice and its shape resembled such. Only the ends were meta
l
, and inside the clear tube was a mesh of wires and tiny green squares. If she squinted hard enough and gave it a shake she could see sparks flashing inside.
Aire sat examining the strange thing for almost an hour before her mother began banging on the door for her to come out. Since she first brought it home she’d inspected it every night under the covers before going to bed. For a full week she did the same routine of getting through school and then rushing
back to her house
once she got Troy home to examine her new treasure. Never before had she seen anything like it, and with all her pondering still didn’t have any ideas as to what it was or
why it had been in Troy’s head. Her intrigue brought her to the library for any clues.
She spent the entire afternoon pouring over the dusty and bland volumes of books on electricity and mechanics, hoping to find some semblance to the strange thing within the yellowing pages, yet nothing in her readings made any sense as to why the thing would have been lodged under a person’s skin. The sun had painted the sky a deep magenta, and the first glints of stars began to pop through the diming heavens when she finally left empty handed. She clenched at her pocket, staring at the ground on her way home when a voice from behind called to her.
“Mind if I walk with you?” Troy asked.
“No,” she shrugged.
His limp had vanished, and the bruise on his left cheek was beginning to fade from royal blue to a pale pea green. A piece of bandage tape clung to his neck, covering the deep wound
on
the back of his scalp.
“Sorry I haven’t really been around for the last couple weeks,” he said. “I don’t want you to think us hanging together for the weekend as a onetime thing.”
“It’s okay, I know those pills make you sleepy and you still have to keep up with school.”
“Yeah, I haven’t exactly been doing school work at night though.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her to face him, “I’ve been thinking about you every night.”
“Really,” she said, her cheeks beginning to flush over her emerging smile. “What about me?”
“I don’t know a word for it. It’s just that lately whenever I think of you I get all tingly and…weird things start happening.”
She leaned closer into him. “What kind of weird things?”
Troy turned his eyes away from her. “It’s embarrassing. Anyway, all I’m trying to say is that I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you, that’s all.”
A horn honked from a passing ATV as Mrs. Rhodes waved at them as she drove by. Aire looked back to Troy, and smiled at the searching look on his face.
“Well, I would like to see you more
, too
. Tell you what, I’m getting together with Melissa in the school library tomorrow at three. Why don’t you come study with us, and then you and I can go out and get some ice cream or something?”
“That would work.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
Chapter Fifteen
John’s Town
In the beginning…
In the beginning it was integral that they all forget those events of the past. If they couldn’t, there’d be no difference between here and there, and the city would be lost. Already a new exodus was beginning after the shooting of Brenda McAllister. They couldn’t forget Ronnie or Richie or Lucita or Brenda. Not on their own anyway.