Miracle - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

"I'm supposed to give you this before you get discharged." Dr. Sarias tossed the fancy smartwatch into my lap, and I reached for it in wonder.
"Ezra got it back from Tyler?"
He sighed. "So it would appear."
I laid it against my wrist and strapped it on, watching the heartbeat icon come to life. The S.O.S. button was back too, though it seemed unnecessary. "He isn't really listening through this when I talk to him, is he? He's just doing that prayer thing where he hears what I'm thinking."
The doctor grunted.
"Why didn't he just tell me that, instead of saying I had to push the button?"
A hard glare. "Why do you think?"
'Cause he wasn't supposed to tell me what he is. I winced guiltily. "It does do something else, though, doesn't it? Something more than reading my pulse."
"It has GPS," Dr. Sapias answered. "If that's what you mean."
"More than that." I wanted to know how he'd known about the dog, that one time. "Is it a special kind of GPS? Like, with real-time satellite coverage or something?"
His eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. "How did you know?"
"I'm right?"
The impressed expression dissolved into scoffing, and I realized he'd been sarcastic. "No."
"Is it another one of those things you can't tell me?"
"Just wear the damn thing, it gives him peace of mind. If it means he's not sneaking down here constantly to check on you, it's worth it."
I looked down at the watch. Ezra, can you hear me?
After a moment, the watch thumped once.
Are you at home right now? Another thump.
Are you okay? You're not in any trouble because of me, right? Thump.
Maybe this thing would come in handy after all.
"Now," Dr. Sarias said, "your mother is down at the front desk signing your release papers. I'm going to escort you to the curb," he indicated the wheelchair he'd brought, "and from there you're on your own. Remember what I said, stay away from human males. Get in the car, go home, stay inside. Don't make Ez risk his ass again to save yours, got it? And for God's sake don't go flapping your mouth about what he's told you."
"No one would believe me even if I did," I pointed out, a little offended. As if I would betray the guy who'd saved my life. Twice.
"You'd better hope they don't. Get in the chair."
He didn't offer to help me, so with my foot swollen and my knee and thigh bandaged, it took a bunch of awkward hopping and flopping to transfer myself from the hospital bed to the wheelchair. It also hurt quite a lot, because even after three days my chest ached something awful. No sooner had my butt hit the seat than Dr. Sarias was wheeling me out into the hall, as if he couldn't wait to be rid of me.
We passed a bearded nurse on our way to the elevator, who paused and turned around after we passed. "Can I help you out with that patient, doc?"
"No thanks," Dr. Sarias replied briskly, wheeling me onto the elevator and keeping my back to the guy. But, in the reflection of the elevator's dull metal wall, I could see that he had turned around and was staring the nurse down as the doors closed.
I pressed my lips together uncomfortably. This pheromone thing was like a bad-guy lure. Only I wouldn't know if they were bad guys, like Tyler, or good ones, like Pete, probably until it was too late. And according to Dr. Sarias, they were all one and the same. How was a person supposed to function like this?
Mom was downstairs, just as the doctor had said, with Maddy at her side. Maddy ran to me as soon as we came out of the elevator, but Mom just looked me up and down with frustration. "He's a cripple now? Man, I ain't got the time for that."
"I'm not crippled," I said, but when I tried to get up out of the chair to prove it, Dr. Sarias pushed me back down.
"Hospital policy, ma'am. Patients must leave the premises in a wheelchair. Your son's able to walk on his own once we get him outside."
"Well, praise the Lord for that. I've already had to rearrange my work schedule for this. Let's go, then."
In the car, Maddy twisted around from the front passenger seat and handed me my phone. "There you go. I put that guy Pete's number in for you already."
"Thanks," I said, clicking the home button. Hah. Maddy hadn't just added his number, she'd labeled it Rodeo Hottie, framed in hearts.
"Well? Aren't you going to call him?"
"I don't know." I was out of the hospital. The person I really wanted to talk to was someone who wouldn't give me his number. And while I could tell Ezra whatever I wanted just by thinking it, the best I could hope for in reply was a thump on the wrist. That was certainly more access to him than I'd ever had before... but at the same time, it wasn't enough.
And what did I even want him to say? The questions I had could get him hurt, maybe killed. But then, whatever he and his people had done to me was very likely to get me hurt or killed. I still didn't know what Ezra wanted with me. But it probably wasn't anything close to my gay adolescent daydreams.
I chewed my bottom lip for a second. Then pressed the dial button.
"Howdy, this is Pete."
"Hey Pete. It's Connor Hayes." Maddy had turned around in her seat again to give me a thumbs up. Meanwhile Mom turned up the radio, so that I had to plug my ear with a finger in order to hear Pete talking.
"Well hey there! You out of the hospital now?"
"Yeah, on my way home."
"Cool. How're you feelin'? Leg healed up?"
"It hurts and I'm all swollen, but the poison part's taken care of."
"That's great. I guess it might be a spell before you'll be ready for that coffee though, huh?"
"Probably. It's kind of hard to get around, still."
"Yeah, I bet. Well, how's about I drop by in a day or two? I've got competitions all this week except Wednesday, I could come up then."
"Sure. So what, um... what kind of competitions will you be doing?"
Pete launched enthusiastically into a description of his rodeo activities, which included things like calf roping, bull and bronco riding, and bareback riding. I listened attentively, not understanding half of what he was talking about since Mom had never taken us to a rodeo. But I could hear the passion for it in his voice. It was definitely some rough and tumble, hyper-masculine stuff. And it was, I had to admit, totally sexy.
When I told him I hadn't been to a rodeo before, he was well and truly shocked.
"Well, that ain't gonna do," he said firmly. "Soon as you're feelin' up to it, you can come to one of mine. Me n' my buds'll get you the best seat in the house."
Yeah, I could just imagine what Dr. Sarias would say to that.
In fact, it hit me in that moment that I couldn't attend one of Pete's rodeos. Or any rodeo, for that matter. I might as well be a fat tuna swimming into the middle of a pack of sharks. I'd be eaten alive.
It didn't stop at rodeos, though, did it? County fairs were out. Monster truck rallies, sporting events, gun shows... not that any of those had ever been all that high on my list of desired entertainment venues, but now they were an absolute impossibility. Not to mention the zoo, museums, public parks. Pride festivals, if I ever had the chance to go. Bars, dance clubs. Church.
Jesus, what about school?
I must have gotten really quiet, because Pete sounded concerned. "Connor? You still there?"
"Yeah, sorry. I'm, uh... I gotta go."
"Okay, talk to you later then—"
I hung up, feeling angry all of a sudden. It wasn't Pete's fault I was such a mess. But finally, finally there was a guy who liked me, who was nice to me, who wanted to spend time with me in ways that didn't involve stealing my stuff and beating me up, and I couldn't hang out with him like a normal person. And really, if it weren't for my body's altered chemistry, Pete wouldn't be into me at all to begin with.
What kind of life was I looking at, now? Never ending fear. Hyper-vigilance. Paranoia. Locking myself away just like Timmy, and even that might not be enough. One wrong move, one bad stroke of luck, and I could find myself in a living nightmare. Timmy lasted two years before he couldn't take anymore. Would I make it that long? Was a life like that even worth living?
What was the point?
I stuck my phone in my pocket, feeling numb. Maddy gave me a questioning look, but I wasn't about to explain the dark direction of my thoughts.
When we got home, Mom took off for a shift at work the moment she'd dropped us off. Maddy helped me, slowly and painfully, into the house. I'd been in the hospital three days, and in that time apparently a hurricane of cigarette butts, beer cans and microwave popcorn kernels had struck our living room. I didn't even want to know the state of the kitchen.
And cracked rib or no, I couldn't stand to use the bathroom until after I'd scrubbed the poop smears out of the toilet, thrown away the two empty TP rolls on the floor, gathered up the dirty laundry into the hamper, and wiped the toothpaste residue out of the sink.
Maddy and I ended up having to switch bunks, since I couldn't climb the ladder. She got me settled into bed, brought me some books, an ice pack, and a bottle of Tylenol, and then left me alone. She seemed to realize I needed some time to stew, which I appreciated.
And stew I did. For two whole days. I stayed in bed and read books aggressively, as if the fictional worlds could somehow replace everything in the real world that I was losing. I got up only to use the bathroom and make an occasional pot of mac and cheese. The rest of the time I was either sleeping, or angrily surfing the internet on my phone.
I learned that Enoch's Peak was in Hinsdale County, Colorado—otherwise known as the most remote part of the United States. That the area was mostly mountains, had one of the largest roadless areas in the country, and a population density less than one person per square mile. There was only one official town, Lake City, with a population of four hundred and eight. That was about one-fifth the size of Prickly Pear. And here I thought I lived in a small town...
Enoch's Peak wasn't a city or a town, just a mountain. Google maps said the fastest drive between here and there was seven hours. And its satellite view showed nothing out there. No dirt roads, no little isolated mountain cabins, certainly nothing that looked like a facility where a research scientist would be living and working. Ezra had lied.
What a weirdly specific lie, though.
I also spent a lot of time looking up pheromones. From what I could find, they only affected insects and animals, despite some perfume companies' claims that their products would make you irresistible to the opposite sex. And they were for more than luring mates. They also warned others away from danger, or towards a food supply, or just encouraged groups of like creatures to gather together.
What I really wanted to know was how much control an individual had over their response to them. Or how much control I might have over giving them off. Anything that might indicate I could influence the outcome, even a little. But because the affected species weren't human, there wasn't any data to go on.
I had a few of my own experiences to draw from, though. That guy who'd tried to force me into his pickup had caught my scent just by driving past me. The nurse at the hospital, same thing. Yet while I was at the town barbecue I hadn't been bothered all that much. At one point I had been surrounded by Pete and his rodeo friends, and they had been nothing but nice. Maybe a little on the handsy side, now that I thought about it, but nothing forceful or inappropriate. There were a lot of people there, and nobody gave me any trouble until Tyler and his friends turned up.
Which meant two possibilities: either individuals had differing levels of response to me, or I was giving the pheromones off differently at different times. Maybe both. That realization gave me hope.
If I could learn more about how this worked, maybe I could control it.
But one thing was for sure. I wasn't going to live the rest of my life in fear. I wasn't cutting up my face like Timmy, or hiding in my room like Dr. Sarias wanted. I was going to figure out how to have a life worth living. And if I couldn't ask Ezra for the answers, I'd find them on my own.
I started a notebook, because that seemed the most logical place to begin. I wrote down everything I could remember about my encounter with Marvin Pemberton, because that was the first time I'd noticed something off. I made a note of where I was, the time of day, what I'd been wearing, the weather, how far away from me he'd been at the time. Everything I could think of that might be a potential factor.
Then I did the same for my encounters with Tyler, and Pete, and creepy truck man. Adam and Isaac, with their dog. The rodeo guys. The nurse at the hospital. I noted what Dr. Sarias had said about the pheromones only acting on the Y chromosome. What Ezra said about the way human men reacted when the pheromones came from another male.
Then I dragged Maddy from her Syfy channel marathon in the living room in order to interview her. I gathered the same data about the fight at the pool, Mr. Crockett's fifty dollars, Justin's sudden descent into horny jerk mode, and every single guy since who had approached her, given her something for free, or otherwise seemed affected by her more than usual. She was mostly patient with my questions, especially when some patterns started to emerge.
For one thing, it seemed like we both elicited stronger reactions when we were grumpy, angry or scared. She was a lot more likely to experience courting-type behaviors—gifts, preening, showing off. The aggression she'd encountered was primarily competition for her attention. Meanwhile, I was more likely to experience direct aggression—guys forcing physical contact on me that was sexual or destructive in nature.
"So Ezra was right," Maddy said from the upper bunk. She was swinging her feet in the air above me. "Dudes get all freaked out realizing they're hot for another dude, and since they don't know what to do with those feelings they want to take it out on you. Insecure babies."
"Pete's not like that, though." Just being able to say that warmed me up a little. "He doesn't act weirded out at all." In fact, he was bringing me flowers and getting dressed up to see me. More like Maddy's would-be suitors. What if he was just having a normal reaction? Finding me attractive didn't threaten his masculinity, so he was just... into me.
If that was possible, it meant I wasn't necessarily doomed to a solitary existence.
"Yeah, so are you gonna call him back? He's off tomorrow, isn't he?"
I bit the end of my pen and flipped through my notes. What I had were observations, the first phase of the scientific method. There was enough to see some patterns, but not to really form a hypothesis. To do that, I'd need more data. And Pete was my best opportunity to get some.
Information, that is.
"Ooh, you're blushing," Maddy crowed, appearing upside down over the edge of the bunk. I quickly shuffled the notebook aside and ducked my head.
"Am not."
"You totally are. Call him! Betcha dollars to donuts he'll be hitching his horse to our front porch by the time we wake up in the morning."
🧬🧬🧬
It wasn't a horse, it was an old Chevy truck that looked like it had spent the better part of the last couple decades doing heavy lifting for the rodeo. A rusted light blue with dented fenders and a missing tailgate, it came puffing up the driveway the next morning in a cloud of exhaust. I went out into the porch, trying to wipe my sweaty palms unobtrusively against my shorts as the truck's door squealed open and Pete hopped out.
He was in cowboy gear again: tight jeans, big silver belt buckle, plaid shirt half unbuttoned over a white tank, worn boots and a dusty brown Stetson that he took off as he came up the steps. He'd gelled his hair.
"Howdy," he said, grinning.
"Hi, Pete."
"I'm really glad you called yesterday." His attention went to my leg, which was less swollen than before but still noticeably larger than the other one. I'd put a new bandage on my knee this morning. And made sure I'd showered. My busted lip had healed and most of the bruises on my face were fading, so hopefully I looked better than the last time he'd seen me.
"How's the leg?"
"Better," I said, and took a couple steps toward him to demonstrate. He reached out to take my elbow, steadying me. His touch was warm and friendly, and so was the look in his eyes.
Which were green, by the way. A really pretty shade of moss green.
"You gonna be okay to go out?" he asked.
I nodded. "I just might be a little slow. If that's okay."
There was that cute dimple again. "I ain't in no rush. I got all day."
He opened the passenger side door for me, gave me a hand getting in. As I buckled up and he walked around to the driver side, Maddy came out onto the porch and was waving smugly. I gestured at her to go back into the house.
We'd already talked about this, when she'd said this morning that she was coming along on our date to make sure Pete didn't have some Jekyll-Hyde shift in the middle of the day. I argued that would spoil everything—both the date and my data-gathering mission. In the end we'd agreed to a compromise: I would answer her texts within two minutes, or else she would call the cops. While the Crockett clan was unlikely to help me with Tyler, they loved a good chance to throw their weight around otherwise. If Pete got out of hand, they'd probably enjoy taking him down.
Not that anything like that was going to happen, because Pete was a sweetheart through and through. Speaking of which, I had to adjust the hand I was flapping at Maddy into a feigned fly-shooing gesture as Pete climbed in next to me. If he was wondering about the invisible fly, he was too polite to say anything.
He waved back to Maddy before turning his truck on and putting it in reverse. "Your sister's nice. She looks out for you, huh?"
"Yeah. We're really close." As he pulled us out of the driveway, I glanced over at him. "You, um... you sure she's not the one you want to be hanging out with today? I mean, she's—" Got the same pheromones as me, minus the extra appendage. I'd been thinking it for a few days now, actually. That maybe the reason Pete had been interested in me initially was because Maddy was dating his friend. Now that she and Justin had broken up, though, wouldn't she be a better option? A much less complicated one.
Pete shook his head, though. "No sir. She seems cool, but she's also kinda... intense." He cast me a look that said he hoped I wasn't offended. I nodded, because he wasn't wrong. "You 'n I are more the same pace."
"How's that?"
He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. "I dunno, like... more easy goin'. I like that about you."
I'm not sure I would have ever described myself as easy going. I was a neat freak and an overthinker. Much of my introversion came from a need for personal space in which to process all my knee-jerk reactions to things. But I guess I could see how my tendency to sit quietly and try to keep those around me comfortable could come across as easy going.
Still, I wasn't sure how being easy going could trump, you know, being a guy, when a similarly-pheromoned and nearly identical looking girl was available.
"So, what do you want to do?" Pete asked. "How about that coffee? Or if you're hungry, we could make it breakfast."
"Want to go to Ruby Mae's Diner? It's the best breakfast place in town, and their coffee is great." Actually, this fit perfectly into my plans for the day. Ruby Mae's was a public place, with a limited number of people. A semi-controlled environment, where I could study others' reactions to me. And with Pete there I ought to be relatively safe, even if Tyler decided to show up.
If it went well, we'd try another test location afterward: the town arcade and bowling alley. That one was riskier, because on a midsummer day there were likely to be a lot of guys there, especially middle and high schoolers. But it was one of the few good date spots in town, and if things got too crazy there was always Carter's Pond. Maybe even the movie theater, depending on what Pete was in the mood for.
"Ruby Mae's it is," he said cheerfully. "You'll have to give me directions, though."
I was already getting pinged by my sister. You good?
I sent her back a thumbs up, and settled in for the drive. We lived about ten minutes from the main part of town, so Pete and I got to chatting about a bunch of goofy stuff. I told him my sister had expected him to arrive on horseback, and he laughed and said he might just do that next time. Then he asked if I knew how to ride and I said I didn't, which got him all excited with talk of teaching me.
When we got to the diner, Pete parked the truck and told me to wait so he could help me out. He came around to my side, opened the door and gave me his hand. The truck was really high for someone as short as I was, so I ended up gripping his forearms with both hands.
We both realized when I was in midair that the landing was going to hurt my injured leg. So he did this thing where he pulled me into him and caught me very gently against his chest on the way down, so I slid along his body instead of landing full force on my feet. It was awkward and thrilling all at the same time, and I didn't even mind the burst of pressure against my injured rib. It was well worth it. As soon as I was solidly on the ground, Pete stepped back a respectful distance.
"Er, sorry about that. You okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks." My heart was beating a little fast, but in a good way. And then he pushed the truck door shut behind me, took my hand, and led me toward the diner's entrance.
I gaped down at our joined hands with a rush of giddy endorphins. We were really going to walk into Ruby Mae's like this? That was sure to earn us some not-so-positive attention. While Pete was a stranger around here, these people knew me. It wasn't a big secret that I was gay, I think most folks made that assumption when they first laid eyes on me. But those respectable enough not to comment on it also wanted to pretend they didn't know.
I tugged him back a little. "Pete."
"Am I walkin' too fast?"
"No, it's just..." I took my hand back, gently. "I, uh..." My back pocket buzzed, like a gift from God. "I have to take a call real quick. Is that okay? You can go grab us a table, I won't be long."
"You got it," he said with a tip of his hat, and headed inside.
I took a second to breathe in relief, then answered the phone. "I'm fine, Maddy."
"Just what do you think you're doing right now?"
I straightened with surprise at the sound of Ezra's voice. "I... You're calling me?" I looked at my watch, which had a nice, steady pulse rhythm. Half the health circles were green now, which was even better than yesterday. "But I'm not in any trouble. I'm good."
"Like hell you are. Who is that boy?"
"Huh?"
"The one you were holding hands with."
"Oh. You, uh... you saw that?"
"Answer me. Who is he?"
"Why?" Possessed with sudden snark, which was probably more wishful thinking than I wanted to admit, I added, "You jealous?"
"Connor. This is extremely dangerous. You need to go home, now."
My temper flared in rebellion. "We're on a date. I'm not gonna ditch him just because my mysterious guardian angel-scientist-doctor-stalker-whatever says so."
"I thought I was your friend." The way he said it actually made me feel guilty for a second, in spite of the fact that he was scolding me.
"Well then, be happy for me! I'm on a date, Ezra. My first one ever. And you don't have to worry, Pete's a good guy."
"Being a good guy has nothing to do with it," Ezra replied. "Human males are—"
"He's not affected like the others. He brought me flowers. He gets dressed up to see me. He's courting me, just like guys are courting Maddy right now. He hasn't tried to force any touching on me, he's not scared of turning gay, or other people thinking he's gay. He's different. I'm safe with him."
"Connor, it's not that simple."
"I'm not going to live the rest of my life as a hermit," I said fiercely. "Whatever you people did to me, I'm not going to let it ruin my life, you hear?"
"I don't want that for you either. I told you, I'm working on it. But right now it's just too—"
"You can let me know when you figure it out," I snapped. "In the meantime, butt out."
"Connor—"
I hung up the phone, huffing so much that my side hurt. Who did he think he was? Him and his whole unethical, half-supernatural race, however many of them there were, had some top-secret mission to screw with kids like me before we were even born. Then they abandoned some of us at whim. Left us for worm food, as Ezra's buddy had so charmingly put it. Why had Ezra even bothered to save my life if it was going to mean isolation and terror? They wouldn't tell me what they'd done to me, but their solution was for me to hole up under a rock somewhere forever? Pete was the one good thing that had happened out of all this, and by God I was going to enjoy it. Just because I wasn't big and strong didn't mean I wasn't smart enough to take care of myself.
"Fuck you," I muttered, and stuck my phone back in my pocket.
My watch gave a thump, and I yanked it off in irritation. I started to throw it into the rhododendrons growing alongside the diner, but stopped myself, grinding my teeth. I didn't know how it worked. If I stuck it in my pocket instead of wearing it, would that prevent Ezra from spying on me? If it did have a microphone he'd still hear everything.
The windows to Pete's truck had been left cracked a bit, to keep the cab from overheating. I limped my way back through the parking lot, climbed very uncomfortably up the side, and managed to stretch just far enough to slip the watch through the window, so that it dropped onto the seat inside.
There. I felt better, never mind the throbbing pain in my chest. I could ask Sara Jo for an ice pack once I got inside.
My phone chimed with a text message, and I pulled it out, ready to tell Ezra off if he was going to try texting me now. But this time it really was Maddy. She'd sent a question mark.
I replied with another thumbs up, climbed down from the truck, and lumbered slowly for the diner. A middle aged man was holding the door open for his wife and their two kids. I couldn't remember his name, but recognized him from church. He raised his head as I got closer and looked over at me. I watched his lips part a little, his forehead contracting like he wasn't sure whether he was seeing something he liked, or really did not like at all.
I stopped in my tracks. Took a deep breath, and reminded myself that it was possible my bad moods made the pheromone problem worse. The man beckoned and I shook my head, pretending like I needed to take a phone call again.
I waited with my phone pressed to my ear until he'd gone inside. Then I counted to ten. Reminded myself of Pete's dimpled smile, the way he'd taken my hand earlier like it was the most normal and comfortable thing in the world. We were going to have a good day today, no matter what Ezra thought.
I pulled the glass doors open, heard bells jingle overhead. Pete was in a booth not far from the door, and he beamed at me as I came in. There were already two steaming cups of coffee on the table. His smile was bright enough to light the whole place.
Yeah. It was for sure going to be a good day.