All Through the Night (10 page)

SIXTEEN

I
n the dark predawn hour, the dream came to Wayne, striking for the first time since he had last traveled to Lantern Island alone. He awoke in the standard manner, clawing for air, heart hammering, sweat pouring from his skin. Only the hour was different. By the time he toweled dry and dressed and emerged on his front porch, the eastern sky was tinted grey. Normally the dream struck in the dead of night. If he left now it would be full daylight by the time he made it across the state. Full daylight meant danger and the risk that the family would already be off doing whatever rich families did.

He was going anyway. He knew that before he stepped through the door. His gut was gripped like always, a raging vacuum that went way beyond hunger, even further than lust. More like rage with the destructive force all focused on himself. He had never thought of it so clearly before. Not that it mattered. He was still going.

Until he turned to go back inside and spotted the figure hulking on the steps of the house down the lane. He whispered, “Julio?”

The kid unwrapped his arms from his legs and stood, a lumpish creature rising from its chrysalis. He crossed the lane, stopped by Wayne’s bottom stair, and whispered, “It’s so quiet here, man.”

“Why didn’t you go back with Tatyana?”

“Miss Victoria, she said I could stay.”

“Victoria let you spend the night?”

“No, man, the summer.” But Julio was scarcely paying attention to his own words. He was scouting the low-lying mist, the trees scarcely separated from the dawn, the ghostly structures. “I never thought quiet could be like this. It’s spooky.”

“I don’t get it. Victoria is letting you spend the summer with her?”

“She made me a cot on the porch. Fixed me dinner and everything. Said she’d try and find me a job.”

“What about your grandmother?”

“Miss Victoria, she made me call. But my grandma, she doesn’t care. She comes and goes.” Julio glanced not at him, but at the porch to his right. “You gonna make me leave?”

Wayne felt the tense craving collapse into a fume of burnt cinders. Whatever else came from this, he was not making the trip to Lantern Island that day. “No.”

“So what are you doing up, man? The quiet get you too?”

Wayne slipped back inside. “I’m going for a run. You too. Go find some shoes.”

Wayne had to take it very easy for the kid. Julio fought the road. Before they reached the end of the drive, his feet had started splaying slightly. He lumbered and he sweated and he groaned. But he kept on. Wayne let Julio set the pace, something between a walk and a slow trot, and stopped when they had gone a little over a mile. “You did good.”

Julio propped his hands on his thighs and puffed.

“I know you like basketball. I bet you can shoot. Are you a shooter, Julio?”

Julio gulped enough air to reply, “The best.”

“On the court, a big guy like you, he can just stand and wait until somebody hits him with the ball.” Wayne heard himself talking, like he was prepping a green recruit. “But even the biggest guys in the pros, they’ve still got to run. Look at the Shaq. Big as he is, that guy floats up and down the court, light as a feather.”

Julio pushed himself back upright. The front of his T-shirt was black with sweat. “Okay, man. I’m ready.”

“No, that’s enough for day one. You wait until you’re cooled off, then jog back home. Don’t sprint even if you feel like it. Hold it steady and give your muscles time to get used to this new routine.”

“I can go farther.”

“I know you can.” No question, this kid had grit. Wayne patted his drenched shoulder. “Jog on back, and hang loose till I return. I’ll show you some stretches. We’ll go again tomorrow.”

But Julio was still waiting there on the side of the road when Wayne returned an hour later. Wayne usually raced the final half mile or so, using the straight avenue running through the last orange trees as a perfumed wind sprint. But today he slowed to a foot-dragging trot, letting Julio set the pace and the footwork. Entering the community together, both of them on their last leg.

Tatyana was seated on the porch next to Foster when they came into view of Wayne’s cottage. He pulled up early, not wanting to have Jerry come down on the kid while Julio was still winded. If Jerry was there. They plopped onto the grass together and took their time stretching, until Foster and the lady stepped down off the porch and approached.

Wayne said to Tatyana, “You could have given me directions and let me come meet you.”

Today’s outfit was a midnight blue so dark it appeared only a half shade off black. Matching silk camisole. No jewelry except for a lady’s gold Rolex. Hair pulled back. Severe and reserved and dressed for big game. “Not this morning.”

He said to Julio, “Try to keep your shoulders level when you bend. Don’t jerk toward your toe. Lean until you feel your hamstrings go tight, then release. Easy motions. You’ve got weeks to get it right. Years.” He said to Tatyana, “I’m not ready to speak with Mr. Grey again.”

“You want to see the company books and you need to speak to an accountant.” Even when speaking in the precise manner of reading off a sheet, Tatyana’s voice stirred a shiver in his gut. “I need to be with you the first go.”

Foster said worriedly, “Jerry’s in with Holly.”

Wayne was instantly on his feet. “Since when?”

“She came and got him while we were making coffee. The lady’s upset. The way she looked, I’m thinking she spent the night distilling yesterday into another major league worry.”

Tatyana said, “We need to—”

But Wayne was already running for the community center. “Five minutes.”

Holly’s stone expression matched Jerry’s when Wayne knocked and pushed open the door. Jerry said, “Oh, look. Formal wear.”

Wayne brushed off the grass clinging to his legs and shorts. “Everything okay?”

Jerry returned his attention to the woman behind the desk. “Everything is just swell.”

“I want to know,” Holly said.

Wayne did not risk a look at Jerry. “We weren’t there. We had nothing to do with anything—”

She gripped the air between them, the cords in her arm as taut as her expression. “My work here might seem small to a lot of people. Insignificant. Petty. But it is my
life
. It is
my
life. This is all I have.”

Jerry’s voice went soft. “I don’t class your work as insignificant, Holly. Not at all. And neither does Wayne.”

“I have given twelve and a half years trying to make this community run smoothly. Keeping it alive. Fostering an environment where people with very little can make a true home. We are a village. We
care
for one another.” She glared at Wayne. “Do you have
any
idea what I’m talking about?”

He nodded slowly. “Belonging.”

Jerry said, “Holly, the man risked his life to bring back the money to keep this place going. What more do you want from him?”

She wavered, but held on to Wayne’s gaze. “I need to ask you something.”

“Holly, please. This isn’t—”

She raised her voice. “Are you a threat to this community? Will you put my people and this place at risk?”

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want.” She huffed, thoroughly dissatisfied. “You don’t
want
.”

Jerry said, “The guy has given you everything he can, Holly. He’s asked for nothing in return.”

Wayne had a jerking sensation, like the community chief’s stare had the force to pull the earth out from under him. And she was tempted. Wayne could see the words shaped in her head. Telling him to leave. But what she said was, “You have absolutely nothing in common with us or this community.”

There was one thing. Wayne added in a voice he did not recognize, “This is the only home I have.”

“He cares for us, Holly,” Jerry added. Soft as Wayne. “He’s one of our own.”

Wayne left the community center and made his way back to the cottage. He had been wounded before, and not just the one time he caught the edge of the blast that took out his two best friends. Every soldier wore armor down deep, protecting the core of their being from all the stuff nobody should ever have to face. Even when they knew the armor was a lie and they were still vulnerable, such as after his ex had stabbed through the invisible chink, and now Holly. A soldier wore his armor. Sometimes it was all he had.

Wayne listened to two strains in his head, like his antennae had become tuned to two different sound tracks. One spewed out the tirade he had heard voiced by other guys trying to rebuild their armor after an attack. How these women weren’t to be trusted, how they were enemies, and if they didn’t consider themselves that, it was their problem. An enemy by any other name was nothing but a target. He didn’t need them and he didn’t need this rat hole of a place. He could be packed and out the front gates in three heartbeats, and he would never look back.

Like that.

The other internal voice just wept.

One mistake piled on another, that was how he felt. A lifetime of getting things wrong. Holly’s face floated in the harsh sunlight, wavering like heat rising from the oyster shells scrunching beneath his feet. She had not been angry with him. She had been afraid. Afraid
of
him and afraid
for
her community. Afraid he would be responsible for bringing them down.

Victoria stood where the bougainvillea was so thick it formed a natural wall reaching from her home to the lane. Julio stood beside her. The maintenance guy switched his focus from her to Julio and back again. Victoria’s natural stoop made the two men seem like giants, behemoths from another world. The maintenance guy was smiling. As was Julio. And not from mirth. They shared a taste of whatever it was that emanated from Victoria.

Victoria gave him a little wave as he passed. “Come join us.”

Wayne pointed with his chin to where Tatyana and Foster stood on his porch. “I think I’m wanted.”

“A man with great responsibilities.” She turned the words into the finest of compliments.

Tatyana came down the steps. “Can we get started now?”

“Fine. Sure.”

Foster asked, “What’s keeping Jerry?”

“He’s still talking with Holly.”

Tatyana said, “I am assuming you do not own a proper corporate outfit.”