Wings

EIGHTEEN

DESPITE DAVID’S OPTIMISTIC WORDS, ONE WEEK turned into two, and still Laurel’s dad didn’t improve. Laurel moved through her life like a ghost, hardly speaking to anyone except Maddie and David and Chelsea, who often stopped by the bookstore to chat. They hadn’t gotten Chelsea to help much yet — she was a natural supervisor, she joked — but the company of Laurel’s two friends was comforting.

True to his word, David was determined to work at the bookstore until Laurel’s dad came home. Laurel felt guilty as time passed and he kept working for free, but it was an argument she always lost.

Some days they spent the afternoons chatting as they sorted books and dusted shelves, and for just a few minutes Laurel would forget about her dad. It never lasted long, though. Now that he had been transferred, she didn’t get to see him every day. But the minute David got his license, he volunteered to play chauffeur every two or three days.

He drove her and Chelsea out to Brookings the first day after getting his license, and though Laurel held on to her seatbelt with white knuckles and Chelsea lectured him every time he went over the speed limit, they made it in one piece.

Laurel brought flowers — just wild ones from their yard. She hoped the reminder of home would make her father more anxious to return. He’d been very weak and only managed to keep his eyes open for a few minutes to say hello and accept a gentle hug. Then he slipped back into the oblivion of the morphine.

That was the last time Laurel had seen her father awake. Shortly afterward, the hospital staff started sedating him full-time to keep him from the continual pain that even morphine couldn’t completely take away. Laurel was secretly glad. It was easier to see him there asleep. He looked peaceful and content. When he was awake, she could see the pain he tried to hide and it was horribly obvious how weak he had become. Sleep was better.

The lab tech had been able to isolate a toxin in her dad’s blood, but it was one the doctors had never seen before and, so far, were helpless to treat. They tried everything, filling his body with any chemical they thought might help — turning him into a human guinea pig as they attempted to reverse the effects of the toxin. But nothing worked. His body was getting weaker, and two days earlier one of the doctors pulled Laurel’s mom out of the room and informed her that, though they would keep trying, if they couldn’t cleanse the toxin from his blood, it was only a matter of time before his organs would shut down, one by one.

And it didn’t help that Mr. Barnes had started calling every night. For over a week, Laurel had been able to just say that her mom wasn’t home, but after a while, he wouldn’t accept that answer. After being interrogated twice, Laurel had started letting the answering machine pick up all the calls, snatching it off the hook only if it was David or Chelsea.

She didn’t tell her mom about Mr. Barnes at all.

She felt guilty every night as she erased the daily message — sometimes two — but she had promised Tamani she would do what she could.

It was strange to think of Tamani now. He seemed almost like a dream. A bigger-than-life person who belonged with the glitz and excitement that had come with her acceptance that she really was a faerie. None of that seemed very important now. She considered going to see him, but even if she had transportation, what could he do? Enticing certainly wasn’t going to help her father.

She’d promised that she would warn him if the property was in trouble, but since she was erasing all of Mr. Barnes’s messages, it wasn’t. Lately, she just tried not to think about Tamani at all.

Laurel heard the high-pitched ring of the telephone from inside the door as she was coming home from the bookstore, and she hurried to turn her key in the lock. She reached the phone on the sixth ring and heard her mother’s voice. “Hey, Mom. How’s Dad today?”

The line was silent.

“Mom?”

She heard her mother take a ragged breath and find her voice again. “I just spoke to Dr. Hansen,” she said, her voice quivering. “Your dad is showing signs of heart failure. They’ve given him less than a week.”

David was silent as he drove down the darkened highway. Laurel had managed to catch him on his cell phone just as he was reaching his house, and he’d insisted on driving her down to Brookings that night instead of waiting for morning. Laurel had the window down, and even though David must have been freezing with the cold autumn wind rushing through the car, he didn’t protest. She felt his eyes flit continually to her, and once in a while he would reach over and run his hand down her arm. But he said nothing.

They pulled into the parking lot of Brookings Medical Center and David took Laurel’s hand as they followed the familiar route to Laurel’s dad’s room. Laurel knocked lightly on the open door and poked her head through the curtain that surrounded the doorway. Her mom sat at the small table with a man whose back was toward them — but she waved Laurel and David in.

Laurel recognized the man immediately. His shoulders were broad and hulking in a shirt that didn’t seem to fit quite right. And something about his presence put her nerves on edge. It was Mr. Barnes.

Laurel leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest as her mother continued talking to Barnes. She smiled and nodded several times and, though Laurel couldn’t hear what the man was saying, her mother kept repeating, “Oh, yes,” and “Of course,” and nodding enthusiastically. Laurel narrowed her eyes as she continued to watch her mother smile and nod — signing papers without a single glance at what they said. It was too weird.

Her mom didn’t like contracts, didn’t trust “legalese,” as she called it. She always pored over forms and agreements, often crossing lines out before she would sign. But now Laurel watched her sign about eight pieces of paper without reading a single word.

Barnes hadn’t even glanced in their direction the whole time.

Laurel’s skin began to tingle and she squeezed David’s hand as Barnes obtained a few more signatures, handed a stapled stack of papers to Laurel’s mom, and swept the rest into his briefcase. He shook her hand and turned, his eyes meeting Laurel’s almost instantly. His eyes snapped from Laurel to David, then back to Laurel. His features broke into a devious grin that made Laurel take a step back.

“Laurel,” he said in a voice that sounded so fake to her, “I was just asking about you. It seems that none of my messages made it through.” He finished the sentence with the slightest bit of a growl, and Laurel clenched her teeth as terror suddenly filled her chest.

Then Barnes shrugged and his expression turned smug. “Luckily I managed to find your mom, so everything worked out okay.”

Laurel said nothing as she glared at him, wishing she and David had arrived just an hour sooner. Then they could have…what? She didn’t even know, but she wished she could have found out.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Laurel.” He glanced briefly at Laurel’s mom, who was still smiling. “Your daughter is…” He paused and reached out one hand toward Laurel. She tried to back away, but she was already against the wall. She turned her face, but his rough fingers trailed down her cheek. “Lovely,” he finished.

When he threw back the curtain and left, Laurel let out a breath and realized that she had been clutching David’s hand so tightly that his fingers were white.

Laurel gritted her teeth. “What was he doing here?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

Her mom was staring at the curtain still swinging from the man’s exit. “What?” she asked, turning toward Laurel and David. “Oh, um…” She walked over to the table and began shuffling the papers into a pile. “He came to finalize the papers for the sale of the property in Orick.”

“Mom, you promised you’d think about it.”

“I did. And apparently you decided to do some of my thinking for me,” she said, looking meaningfully at Laurel. “You will pass on my messages from now on, understand?”

Laurel stared at the ground. “Yes, Mom,” she said quietly.

Her mom looked down at the papers on the small table and ran her finger along the edge of them, straightening the already orderly sheets. “Actually, I’d decided that if you wanted to keep the land in the family, we’d make do.” Hope flooded through Laurel. Maybe it wasn’t too late! “But that’s not a possibility anymore.” Laurel’s mom was quiet for a while, and when she spoke again, her voice was small and strained. “He showed up here and upped his offer.” She looked up and met Laurel’s eyes. “I had to take it.”

Laurel’s stomach twisted and her breath suddenly felt labored as she thought of losing the land — losing Tamani. “Mom, you can’t sell!” Laurel’s voice was loud and high-pitched.

Her mom’s eyes hardened and she glanced at Laurel’s dad for an instant before taking two steps across the room to Laurel and grabbing her upper arm. She stormed out, pulling Laurel with her. Laurel’s arm felt weak in her mother’s crushing grasp; she couldn’t remember her mom ever treating her so roughly. Her mom ducked into a small alcove and released Laurel’s arm. Laurel forced herself not to rub it.

“This is not about you, Laurel. I can’t hold on to something this valuable just because you like it. Life doesn’t work that way.” Her mom’s face was tense and sharp.

Laurel stood against the wall and let her mother rail. For weeks she had been a rock — but no one could take all this stress without breaking once in a while.

“I’m sorry,” Laurel whispered. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

With a deep breath, Laurel’s mom stopped pacing and looked at her. Her face slowly relaxed till it crumpled into a mess of tears. She backed against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor as tears streamed down her cheeks. Laurel took a deep breath and crossed the small space to sit beside her mother. She slipped an arm around her mom’s waist and leaned her head on her shoulder. It felt strange to be comforting her mom.

“Did I hurt your arm?” her mom asked softly after the torrent of tears subsided.

“No,” Laurel lied.

She sighed a deep, heavy sigh. “I really did consider not selling, Laurel. But I don’t have a choice anymore. Because of these hospital bills, we’re drowning in debt.”

“Don’t we have insurance?”

Her mom shook her head. “Not much. We never thought we’d need it. But with all the tests and medical care there’s just — there’s too much to pay for.”

“Isn’t there another way?”

“I wish there was. I’ve been racking my brain, but there’s nowhere else to get money. It’s the land or the store. And to be honest, the land’s worth a lot more. We’ve stretched our credit to the limit just to keep your dad here as long as we have. No one will loan us any more.”

She turned to Laurel. “I have to be sensible. The truth is—” She paused as tears filled her eyes again. “Your father may not wake up. Ever. I have to look to the future. The store is our only source of income. And even if he does wake up, there’s no way to recover from a financial blow like this without selling something. Knowing how much your father loves his store, what would you have me do?”

Laurel wanted to look away from her mother’s sad brown eyes, but she couldn’t. She pushed Tamani from her mind and tried to think rationally. She set her jaw and nodded slowly. “You have to sell the land.”

Her mom’s face was haggard and her eyes looked gaunt. She lifted a hand to touch Laurel’s cheek. “Thank you for understanding. I wish I had another choice, but I don’t. Mr. Barnes will be back in the morning with some more paperwork to finalize the sale. He’ll push it through escrow as quickly as possible, and with luck the money will be in our account within a week.”

“A week?” It was all so fast.

Her mom nodded.

Laurel hesitated. “You acted funny while he was here. You were all happy and agreed with everything he said.”

She shrugged. “I suppose I put on my business face. I just don’t want anything to happen to mess up this sale. Mr. Barnes has offered enough to cover all the medical bills, and we’d have some left over too.” She sighed. “I don’t know what he knows, but I want to sell while the price is high.”

“But you signed everything he put in front of you,” Laurel continued. “You didn’t even read it.”

Her mom nodded forlornly. “I know. But there’s just no time. I want to take advantage of this offer while it’s on the table. If I hesitate again, he may decide we’re too wishy-washy and yank the offer completely.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Laurel said. “But—”

“No more, please, Laurel. I cannot argue with you right now.” She took Laurel’s hand. “You have to trust that I am doing the best I can. Okay?”

Laurel nodded reluctantly.

Her mom rose from the floor and wiped the last trace of tears from her face. She pulled Laurel to her feet and hugged her. “We’ll get through this,” she promised. “No matter what happens, we’ll find a way.”

As they entered her dad’s room again, Laurel’s eyes went to the chair where Barnes had been sitting. It was unlike her to dislike someone so much without knowing him. But even the thought of sitting in the chair where Barnes had sat made her skin crawl. She walked over to the table and picked up his business card.

JEREMIAH BARNES, REALTOR.

Underneath was a local address.

It looked legitimate enough, but Laurel wasn’t satisfied. She slipped the card into her back pocket and walked over to stand next to David. “Hungry, David?” Laurel said, eyeing him meaningfully.

He missed it entirely. “Not really.”

She stepped closer and grabbed a fistful of the back of his shirt. “Mom, I’m going to take David and buy him some dinner. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Her mom looked up, a little startled. “It’s after nine.”

“David’s hungry,” she said.

“Starving,” David agreed, smiling.

“And he did drive me down here on a school night,” Laurel added.

Laurel’s mom looked at them doubtfully for a few seconds, then turned her attention back to her sleeping husband. “Don’t try the cafeteria food,” she warned.

“Why are we doing this again?” David asked after they’d driven around for almost an hour looking for the right part of town.

“David, there’s something wrong with that guy. I can feel it.”

“Yeah, but sneaking to his office and peeking in the windows? That’s a little much.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do? Call up and ask him if he’d like to tell me why he creeped me out so badly? That’ll work,” Laurel muttered.

“So what are you going to tell the cops when they arrest us?” David asked sarcastically.

“Oh, come on,” Laurel said. “It’s dark. We’re just going to circle the office, peek into a few windows, and make sure everything looks legit.” She paused. “And if they happen to have left a window open, well, that’s not my fault.”

“You are so nuts.”

“Maybe, but you’re here with me.”

David rolled his eyes.

“This is Sea Cliff,” Laurel said suddenly. “Turn your lights off.”

David sighed but pulled over and killed the lights. In stealth mode, they crept to the end of the cul-de-sac and stopped in front of a dilapidated house that looked like it had been built in the early 1900s.

“That’s it,” Laurel whispered, squinting at the business card and the numbers on the curb.

David peered up at the imposing structure. “This doesn’t look like any real-estate office I’ve ever seen. It looks abandoned.”

“Less chance we’ll get caught, then. Come on.”

David pulled his jacket tighter as they crept around the side of the house and started peeking in the windows. It was dark and the moon was new, but Laurel still felt exposed in her light blue T-shirt. She wished she hadn’t left her black jacket in the car. But if she went back now, she might not have the nerve to return.

The house was an enormous, sprawling structure with slightly newer additions sprouting off from the main building like random appendages. Laurel and David peered into the windows and saw a few bulky, shadowy shapes in the dark rooms—“Old furniture,” David assured her — but the house was mostly empty. “There’s no way he’s actually doing business here,” David said. “Why would he put this address on the business card?”

“Because he’s hiding something,” Laurel whispered back. “I knew it.”

“Laurel, don’t you think we’re in a little over our heads here? We should go back to the hospital and call the police.”

“And tell them what? That a realtor has a fake address on his business card? That’s no crime.”

“Let’s tell your mom, then.”

Laurel shook her head. “She’s desperate to sell. And you saw her with this Barnes guy. It was like he had her in a trance. She just smiled and agreed with everything he said. I’ve never seen her do that before. And that stuff she signed, who knows what it was!” Laurel peered around the corner of a particularly crooked addition and waved at David. “I see a light.”

David hurried to crouch beside her. Sure enough, near the back of the house, light shone through a small window. Laurel shivered.

“Cold?”

She shook her head. “Nervous.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“No way.” She crawled forward, trying to avoid the large branches and trash strewn across the yard. The window was short enough to peek into while kneeling on the ground, and Laurel and David positioned themselves on either side of it. Blinds covered the glass, but they were warped and easy to see through. They heard voices and movement from inside, but with the window closed, they couldn’t make out any words. Laurel took several calming breaths, then turned her head to look into the window.

She saw Jeremiah Barnes almost immediately, with his imposing figure and strange face. He was sitting at a table working on papers she could only assume he would be bringing for her mother to sign in the morning. There were two other men standing together, throwing darts at the wall. If Barnes was unattractive, these two were downright grotesque. Their skin hung on their faces as though not properly attached and their mouths were twisted into severe grins. One of the men’s faces was a mess of scars and discoloration and, even from across the room, she could tell one eye was nearly white and the other almost black. The other had bright red hair that grew in a strange patchy pattern that even his hat couldn’t completely hide.

“Laurel.” David was waving her over to his side of the window. She ducked under the sill and peered in from the other angle. “What the hell is that?”

Chained at the far side of the room was something that looked half human, half animal. Its face was twisted lumps of flesh patched together almost at random. Large, crooked teeth poked out between its lips from a distended jaw topped by a bulbous monstrosity that might have been a nose. It was vaguely humanoid, and Laurel could see scraps of clothing wrapped around its shoulders and abdomen. But a collar lined its corded neck, giving it the appearance of a bizarre house pet. The hulking form slouched on a dirty mat, apparently sleeping.

Laurel’s fingernails dug into the windowsill as she stared at the thing. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and somehow she couldn’t look away. Just when she thought she might be able to gather the nerve to turn her head, one blue eye cracked open and met hers.