Miracle - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Ezra.
It was such a great name. Powerful. Old enough to be trendy. A little mystical... very Biblical... mega sexy. It was definitely the name of a superhero, someone larger than life trying to seem like an average joe. It fit him perfectly. The name kept running through my brain, like when a line of song gets stuck in your head. Ezra. Ezra. His name is Ezra.
I laid in my bunk in the early morning, with Maddy still snoring softly below me. Our room was already hot and the sun hadn't even been up that long. I was gazing at the fancy watch that I hadn't taken out of its box. I hadn't charged it yet either, but then, it hadn't come with a charging cord. When I tapped the screen, the time and date appeared in glowing green numbers at the top, with a 3-D red circle in the middle like a button. It was labeled "S.O.S." in white text. The screen stayed on a few seconds, then went dark.
In my other hand I held the shed's broken padlock, fiddling with its useless, swinging hook. I clicked it closed and let it bounce open in my fingers, again and again.
I couldn't get over the fact that he'd told me his name. And given me something, a physical, tangible thing, that was undeniable evidence that we'd met. My first impulse had been to grab my sister and inundate her with every last detail about the encounter. But the more I composed the narration in my head, the more I realized how insane it would sound.
True, there was no plausible way I could have scrounged up the cash to buy a watch like this on my own. But I hadn't gotten a picture of him. I had the watch and lock, but those just added to the bizarreness of it all. The fact that some mysterious, enormous, unaging stalker had broken into our garden shed so he could give this to me was so ludicrous that if I were Maddy I'd be either A), freaked out and wanting to call the cops, or B), convinced I was lying to cover up whatever criminal activity had brought the watch into my possession.
Oh, or C), thinking of ways to check me into a crazy house. Because every time I'd tried to tell her about Ezra, she'd insisted I was making him up.
So I'd kept it to myself all week. And despite Ezra's order to wear the thing, I couldn't without having to explain it to Mom and Maddy and pretty much every other person I ran into. Prickly Pear was a small town. I didn't even want to think about what Tyler and his neanderthal friends would do if they heard I was walking around with an expensive smartwatch strapped to my wrist.
Not to mention, I'd replayed the conversation with Ezra in my head about a thousand times and kept coming up with more questions. Why had he been following me for so long? What was he talking about, saying I was going to need him? Apparently he was so sure about it that he'd given me a way to summon him, when he'd barely ever spoken to me before and was usually a good hundred yards away when he did show up. So why was he letting me get close now? What was with the super personal questions?! And what the fuck did he mean by "half human?"
Was he being sarcastic? Metaphorical, maybe?
At seven, I'd taken him at his word about the guardian angel thing. I guess it hadn't occurred to me to ask myself what I thought now. Of course there was no such thing, no matter how awed by him I was. But if Ezra wasn't a metaphysical being, that meant he was just... a guy. That didn't sit right either, he was too extraordinary. Hadn't he disappeared right in front of my eyes? What about how he'd gotten us up into that attic crawl space in a single jump? Or the fact that none of us had ever seen that drugged up loser Felix again after the night Ezra saved me from him. I was sure he had something to do with that.
Yet he'd said I wasn't normal. Or wasn't going to be normal when I grew up, or something along those lines. Was it utterly pathetic that what I'd taken away from his cryptic message was hope, that maybe I wouldn't be a scrawny shrimp forever? I'd been so overcome with excitement being in his presence, I hadn't listened as carefully as I should have. I wished he'd come back and explain himself. Actually, I just wished I could see him again. If I tapped this S.O.S. button would he really come? I was tempted to try it.
The mattress below me creaked, and I quickly stuffed the watch box and lock under my pillow and closed my eyes. I heard Maddy yawn, felt the bed frame jiggle as she stretched. Then my bunk bounced as she got up and padded out into the hall. The bathroom door screeched shut.
I opened my eyes, debating whether I dared pull the watch back out while she was busy in there. But an ear piercing scream from the bathroom made me shoot upright in bed.
"I got it! I got iiit!"
Mom came running out of her room still in her long night shirt, looking equal parts alarmed and irritated. "Maddy Ann, what the bejeezus you hollerin' on about?"
The bathroom door wrenched open, and from up here I couldn't see Maddy, but definitely heard her gleeful shrieking. "Mama, my period came!"
Shit, now I was glad I couldn't see in there.
Mom's whole attitude shifted, and now she sounded as excited as my sister. "Are you sure?"
"Look!"
Oh God, ew. I flopped back onto my pillow.
"Well I'll be damned, girl. Finally! Sit tight, I'll get you a pad."
"Mom, seriously, what century are you living in? Don't we have tampons?"
"No, we do not. But if my pads aren't good enough for you, Missy, you can take your freshly men-stru-ating coochie to the dollar general yourself and buy whatever you like."
I got that it was a normal bodily function, but so was crapping and I didn't want to listen to my  family talking about that either. I clapped my hands over my ears. "You guys are so gross!"
"Shut up, Connor!" they both replied. In unison.
How I hated being outnumbered by women in this house.
I tried to block out the flurry of activity as Mom came into our room to get a pair of Maddy's underwear out of the dresser, then went to her room, then returned to the bathroom where there was the sound of crinkly plastic, more of Maddy's complaints about living in the dark ages, and running water in the sink as Mom talked her through washing out her dirty clothes. I tucked the watch box and lock back into their hiding spot between my mattress and the wall, climbed down out of bed, and threw on a t-shirt and cutoffs. I ran a brush through my shoulder-length hair, swept it back in an elastic, then went around the room grumbling and picking up the Ding-Dong wrappers, dirty dishes, and castoff clothes that Maddy had strewn all over the floor last night. She knew I couldn't stand it when our room was a mess.
Maddy bounced back into the room with a huge shit-eating grin. "Come on, Connor, let's go to the store."
"No way."
"Go with your sister," Mom ordered from the doorway. "I have some calls to make and I don't want you kids underfoot all day." She practically shooed us out the front door, with her phone in her hand. "If Marvin's there, pick up some cigarettes. The regular kind, not those godawful menthols you brought home last time." The screen door slammed closed definitively behind us, and we were left standing on the porch.
I sighed. Escorting Maddy to the general store was not my idea of a fun morning. But it's not like I had other plans for the day. We didn't have air conditioning at the house, and it was fixing to be a scorcher. It would be cool at the store.
"Connor, come on!" Maddy was wheeling our bicycles out front. Both of them were girls' bikes, with the slanted top tube on the frame. Mom had gotten them as a two-for-one deal at a flea market. At least Maddy had taken the pink one. Mine was mint green, which wasn't quite as bad, but still wasn't winning me any dude-cred with the other kids in town. I shuffled down the porch steps and joined her.
"You're sure you're okay to ride?" I asked, eyeing her bicycle seat and denim short-shorts. "What with the blood and everything?"
She rolled her eyes. "God, you're an ignoramus. Of course it's okay. Let's go."
Prickly Pear's dollar general was creatively named Prickly Pear Dollar General. Some clever vandals had tried to tear down the "L" and "Y" from the first word of the sign, but had only succeeded in getting one and a half of the letters. The remaining half of the "Y" hung at a lazy angle, looking something like a comma. The owner hadn't bothered to replace them yet, and it was going on five years.
Maddy and I parked our bikes along the front windows of the store, right under the signs advertising individual cans of beer for a dollar. All the Fourth of July decor was out, so there were American flags mounted on either side of the door in garden planters, and patriotic ribbons twining the door handles. We pulled them open and basked in that first blast of cold air conditioning, after sweating our asses off on the ride over.
"Heading to health and beauty," my sister announced, and I waved her off. Just because I had to come here with her didn't mean I was going to stand around in the feminine hygiene aisle helping her pick out bits of cotton and plastic to shove up her whatever. I wandered over to the snack section instead, because I was starving. We hadn't had time to eat before Mom had shooed us out the door.
I was fingering the five dollar bill in my pocket, trying to decide between honey mustard pretzel sticks or Funions, when a hand landed on my shoulder and trailed slowly across my back.
"Well hello there, beautiful."
Ugh. Someone mistaking me for Maddy again. Seriously? We might look alike, but she'd never be caught dead in my shapeless clothes. Also, my legs weren't shaved. I took a step to the side and turned toward my admirer, so he'd see who I was.
I was actually kind of taken aback to see who he was. "Uh, sorry, Mr. Pemberton. It's me."
Marvin Pemberton, one of my mom's friends from church, was a square-jawed, slightly balding, gray-haired guy who was married to the town librarian. He worked here. Ellen, his wife, was one of my favorite people. She kept the library open late for me sometimes, and always let me check out more than the three-book limit. Marvin was okay, I guess. He was nice to me and Maddy, and let us pick up cigarettes for our Mom without fussing about ID.
He didn't look at all surprised to see me though, his smile widening. "Well, of course it is, young Connor. Enjoying the summer break so far?" He still hadn't removed his hand, and squeezed my shoulder. "My, you're certainly growing up, aren't you?"
"I guess so," I replied. His eyes traveled down the length of me, though I couldn't imagine what he was finding so interesting. My t-shirt was orange with a black horned demon on the front—our school's mascot. Other than that, I had on old jeans that had ripped, so I'd torn the legs off to make shorts. Some of the strings were shredding around my knees. And well-worn gray tennis shoes, the same pair I wore every day, that Maddy complained stunk. But they were comfortable and broken in, so I didn't care.
"Mom wants Marlboros," I said. "And, uh... I'm gonna get these." I pulled the Funions off the display because they were closest.
"Sure thing, sport." He took the yellow bag from my hand, finally letting go of my shoulder. "How 'bout you follow me over to the counter and we'll get your mother all squared away."
I trailed him to the back corner of the store, where a checkout counter was set up in front of a glass-enclosed cigarette display case. He tossed my Funions on the counter, pulled a key out of a pouch around his waist and unlocked the case. "Marlboros, you said?"
"Yeah. But not the menthol kind."
"You know what they look like? Maybe you better come around here and pick the right ones. I'd hate to disappoint a lady with the wrong smokes."
I skirted around the counter. He stepped back a little but was still holding the sliding door open, so I had to duck under his arm to get in front of the case. "These," I said, pulling out a pack of the standard red ones.
When I turned around Marvin was leaning over me, all up in my personal space. He didn't look at the cigarettes I was holding, his eyes were trained on my face. "You know," he said, and put his other hand up in the case so that I was blocked in by his arms, "you're a real sweet little thing."
I blinked up at him, confused. Was he drunk?
"I heard somewhere, you like boys. Is that true?"
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. When a full grown Texan man asked if you were gay, there were generally only a couple of possibilities: your ass was about to either get kicked or fucked. Neither of which I would've expected from Marvin, he was about as straitlaced as they came.
"Lotta men round these parts'd take issue with that. But not me. I'm a modern kind of guy." He'd gotten so close that his chest was inches from my nose.
I pushed my Marlboro-filled fist against him in protest. "Uh, Mr. Pemberton?"
Now he literally had his nose in my hair, sniffing like it was a bouquet of flowers. His hands dropped to my shoulders, big and forceful, and gripped hard enough to hurt. "I reckon it don't matter what's between your legs when you're such a darlin'. The back's just as good as the front when it comes down to it, dontcha think?"
What the hell was happening? I'd never in a million years have pegged this guy for a closet case. His lips drifted down to touch my temple, and I gasped and started struggling for real.
"Let me go."
His fingers dug harder into my shoulders, until tears sprang to my eyes. I tried shoving him back, my heart pounding with a combination of fear and pain, but he didn't move. "Let go!"
"Hey!" Maddy shouted from behind us, and then she popped up by Marvin's elbow. "What do you think you're doing?"
He was distracted enough to loosen his hold on me, and I quickly squirmed out from under him and ran to put the counter in between us. Maddy crossed her arms and glared up at him. "You got a problem with my brother, Mr. Pemberton?"
He was still watching me, a flush across his cheeks and nose like he'd had one too many glasses of wine. "Connor Hayes," he said unsteadily, taking a step forward and running into the counter. He looked down at it in surprise, as if he couldn't figure out why it was blocking him. I backed up a few steps, and Maddy came to loop her arm through mine.
"What's wrong with him?" she hissed in my ear.
"I don't know." But whatever it was, I didn't want to stick around to find out. "Let's get out of here."
"Yeah. Hang on." Maddy pulled a wad of bills out of her purse, marched up to the counter and slapped them down. "For the cigs," she snapped, then grabbed my arm again. "Come on, Connor, we're leaving."
There was a plastic bag hanging from her wrist, so I assumed she'd already bought what she'd come for. The two of us scuttled out of the store and into the punishing heat, but I didn't even care as long as it meant we were out of that man's sight. Maddy snatched the cigarettes from my hands and stuffed them into the bag with her other stuff. We grabbed our bikes and started pedaling away.
"You okay?" she asked.
I stood up on the pedals and went faster. She copied me and kept up. We raced down to the end of the street and swung right, went two more blocks and crossed the street to the park. Then and only then did I start feeling a little safer. I braked and slammed my feet onto the ground on either side of the bike, panting. Sweat rolled down the sides of my face and neck.
"What happened back there?" Maddy demanded.
I shook my head, because I was just as lost as she was. "Maybe he was drunk. I don't know, it was really weird."
"Was he, like, kissing you? That's what it looked like."
"I don't know. Kind of, I guess."
"Ew," she said, wrinkling her nose. "He's old. And married! We should go to the library and tell Mrs. Pemberton, she'll clean his clock good."
"No!" I didn't want that. Ellen Pemberton was always so nice to me. I didn't want her thinking badly of me because her husband had lost his marbles there for a minute. What if she blamed me for it?
My stomach rumbled, a reminder that I still hadn't eaten. The bag of Funions had been left behind on the counter. "Can we find something to eat?" I asked, changing the subject. "I'm starving."
"Yeah, me too. Wanna go to Ruby Mae's?" It was a diner a couple blocks away.
"I only have five bucks."
"That's okay. Mom gave me a twenty, I only spent half of it. We can split a pancake special and we'll have just enough for coffee and a tip."
"Okay."
At the diner we were ushered into a red pleather-upholstered booth, still damp after being wiped down. Maddy shuffled around in her grocery bag and transferred a few plastic wrapped packages to her purse. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom, okay? You order for us."
I sat at the table fiddling with the laminated menu until the waitress arrived.
"Oh! It's Connor, right?"
I tried not to wince as I recognized her. Sara Jo Hernandez, cheerleading squad captain. Tall, beautiful, and ultra popular. She was a year ahead of me in school. She was also Tyler Crockett's girlfriend. "Yeah, that's me. Hey, Sara Jo."
She tossed her dark ponytail back over her shoulder, looking smug that I recognized her. "What can I get you?"
"Uh..." I was drawing a blank, and actually had to glance down at the menu. "Two coffees, please. With cream and sugar. And a pancake special."
"You got it, cara linda." She scribbled something down in her notebook and flounced off, her butt swaying side to side as if her gingham waitress uniform was a runway gown. I arched an eyebrow.
A meaty hand slammed onto the table in front of my face. "Who gave you permission to stare at my woman's ass, faggot?"
Inwardly I groaned. Tyler was looming over me, a smug curl to his lip. "I wasn't," I said, trying to keep my voice from squeaking. Tyler was a big guy. Not as big as Ezra, but big. And a hell of a lot meaner. His hair was pale blond, styled in spikes over the top of his head. His neck was as thick as my waist. And those hammer fists of his could really pack a punch, as well I knew. He had the predatory instincts of a jungle cat, and he thrived on the smell of fear. I had to consciously refrain from shrinking back in the seat, since that would only encourage him.
"I saw you," he grinned, leaning in close. I held my breath—I couldn't help it. And then as he leered at me, his eyes dilated a bit.
For a second, a funny look crossed his face. His lips parted, and he exhaled as his gaze moved down to my lips, then my neck. A vein bulged in his forehead.
Then his hand snapped up from the table to wrap my throat, and he dragged me out of the booth.
"Filthy cocksucker twink, you make me sick."
I scrabbled helplessly at his wrist with my fingernails, because he had cut off my air. But he had my sneakers dangling a couple inches off the floor, which meant my full body weight was being supported by my jaw against the side of Tyler's hand.
He drew me in so that my kicking feet were bouncing off his shins. Sneering, he ratcheted his other fist back for a gut punch. This was gonna hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut.
They popped open again in shock at the feel of his mouth, wet and sticky, against mine. Was this son of a bitch kissing me? For real?
He pulled back with a lip smacking noise. I was so stunned that when his fist finally did land in my stomach I was totally unprepared. It was a good thing I hadn't eaten yet, because otherwise the force would have resulted in vomit. Instead I just felt bile squeeze up past his chokehold and onto the back of my tongue. My eyes bulged and my body folded in on itself in misery.
He'd yanked me up against him, so that his moist lips were touching my ear. "You like dick, huh, sissy boy? How about we go around back and I'll show you what a real man's looks like."
He set me down, but there was no relief in it because his grip moved from my hand to my upper arm. He started dragging me toward the door. I was wheezing, without voice or breath to yell, and digging my heels into the linoleum floor did nothing to slow him down. I looked around the diner for help, but the other folks in here were casting us slightly amused glances and shaking their heads. If I'd been a girl, Tyler would have had at least four good ol' boys taking him down before he got even two steps with me. But they saw I was male and chuckled to themselves instead. In the Wild West, the runts who couldn't flee got eaten.
"Tyler, leave the little mariposa alone. I just got this job and you're gonna get me fired." Sara Jo had come back and set a tray on our table, with two mugs and a coffee pitcher. She crossed her arms and gave her boyfriend an exasperated look, which won me a few precious seconds to suck oxygen back into my lungs.
Tyler snarled, looking between the two of us. I made the mistake of trying to pull out of his grasp, so that his fingers turned into a bruising shackle around my upper arm.
"Tyler Crockett, let go of my brother right this minute." Maddy came tearing across the diner floor, her face livid.
He took his time looking her up and down, as if he was considering making her his next conquest when he was finished with me. "Well, if it isn't your better half," he jeered at me. "Tell me, how'd it turn out that she's got more balls than you?" A few snickers from our audience.
"I mean it," Maddy said, holding up her phone. "You're gonna let him go, or I'll—"
"What, call the police? Go right ahead, sweetcheeks."
Did I mention Tyler's father, grandfather, and four of his uncles made up fifty percent of the town's police force?
But Maddy just arched an eyebrow. "Nope. I'm gonna call your mama." She held the phone out so that he could see Vera Crockett displayed on the outgoing call screen. Our audience oohed, like they were watching a goddamn reality television spot play out in the middle of their favorite local greasy spoon.
Tyler released my arm. "Fine. Take him, I'm outta here."
Maddy came to put an arm around me as the bells on the diner door jangled. "Geez, Connor! You're getting yourself into all kinds of trouble today."
I put a hand up to my neck. It hurt on both the outside and inside, and I wasn't feeling hungry anymore. My heart was rattling around behind my ribs like a panicked sparrow. But I let Maddy lead me back to the booth, and climbed into it obediently as she took up a seat across from me.
Sara Jo gave me an anxious pat on the shoulder. "Don't pay Tyler no mind, sugar. He don't mean nothing by it, he's just sometimes a real cretino, if you know what I mean."
Yeah. I did.