Last Light Falling (7 page)

As the mantra continues in unison—Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!— the jock proudly leaps from the ladder, missing ever so slightly and crashing onto the hard, tiled floor. As he grabs his knee in anguish, rocking back and forth on the floor grimacing, I try hard to hold back a chuckle. All I can do is shake my head and remember a quote I once read: “Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.” I guess Albert Einstein was right.

As much as Gabe probably wants to laugh, he quickly runs to the aid of the injured football player. Gabe has always been fascinated with medical journals, medical books, and just about anything to do with the human body. He may not know exactly what to do for someone medically, but his intentions are of far more value. He just wants to help in any way he can.

Gabe kneels beside the poor boy’s foot, but before he can help him sit upright, he is forcefully pushed back by a much larger guy. It’s Derrick Maitland, a tall, stout, broad-shouldered ox, who happens to be the captain of the football team. He may have the gladiator physique and the counterfeiting charm that only the naïve would fall for, but it’s the air blowing from his ears that leads me to believe his pea-sized brain rolled out. Judging by the stature of his fellow teammates, he appears to be the strongest in the crowd. I recognize him right away from all the local commercials he does with his dad.

His father, Gerry Maitland, owns Maitland Financial Services and one of the largest federal car dealerships. He’s known for being a very astute businessman, but crooked as well. Judging by Derrick’s reaction, I’m pretty sure the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“Don’t touch him, you freak! This doesn’t concern you!” shouts Derrick.

I push my way through the crowd to come to the defense of my brother “Hey! He was just trying to help your friend,” I say out of anger.

“Who the hell are you?” says Derrick.

Now it has become so quiet, the only background noise is the wincing from the fallen idiot. “I’m his sister,” I say, as I point toward Gabe. By the look on Gabe’s face, I know I’ve just made it worse for him from here on out. I didn’t mean to embarrass him in front of everyone, but I’m not going to stand there and let him be stepped on like that, even if a little dignity is stripped.

“Do you know who this is? This is our starting quarterback. I don’t need some geek pretending to be a doctor and messing up his knee even more,” says Derrick.

This country is sinking deeper into debt, freedoms have all but been banished, and the nation’s poverty is heavier than it ever has been, but God forbid if football were to ever be outlawed, an uprising would tear this nation apart.

“Look, I don’t give a damn if he’s your gay lover. Gabe’s intentions were to help and not harm him,” I say defiantly.

Okay, at this point, I probably stepped over that line Gabe constantly reminds me of. You can see the shock on some people’s faces, and the circle that surrounded the injured boy is now widening back a little. Derrick rises to his feet, puffing out his chest to look intimidating. He walks toward me, but I do not move. My feet are planted in cement. Finnegan always told me that no matter what, never let your enemy see your fear. Sometimes just your appearance and demeanor can make your opponent respect you, even before combat has taken place.

I don’t think that’s the case here, but I stand my ground nonetheless. His face is colored so red with anger, I’m waiting for fire to somehow come spewing from his mouth. Through grinding teeth, he snarls, “I don’t think I made myself clear. You and your nerdy brother better leave right now before—”

“Before what?”

“You think this is a game? Look around you, sweetheart, because what you see are the players that control your game. You’ve been given
fair warning this time, but whatever happens next will be by your choice,” says Derrick.

“If there are any malicious actions, it will be by your hand, not mine,” I retort. Right then, a nurse and two school administrators come racing down the hall, breaking up the scene, and saving us from any more discomfort.

“Come on, Arena,” Gabe says, tugging my arm. As we walk down the hall and the crowd begins to dissipate, I feel my forward movement ceasing.

Derrick grabs Gabe’s shoulder and says in a soft, but demonic voice, “Hey, you little shit, you’re going to wish you had gone down a different hall, and don’t expect Sis here to fight your battles for you either.”

As he turns to walk away, he follows my steady but livid eyes staring him down. “Girl or not, I will break you,” he adds with vigor. I just roll my eyes and walk away. He may be strong, but he’s dumb, and I’m confident I have the skills to take him down if the time ever presents itself.

Gabe walks a little faster ahead of me, as if he doesn’t want anything to do with me. “Gabe, Gabe! I’m sorry,” I say sincerely.

“You’re always doing this. You think you’re helping me, but you’re just making it worse. Why can’t you just leave things alone? I was fine. I would have just walked away and nobody would have remembered any of this. Now I fear for my life walking down these halls, nervously wondering where, when, and how those guys are going to dismantle me,” Gabe retracts.

“I truly am sorry. You do know my intentions were good. You’re my brother, you’re all the family I have left, and I’m here to look after you no matter what,” I say.

He pats my shoulder, his way of showing that he forgives me, but not without disappointment. I don’t think he would ever deny that if push comes to shove, I would be there to protect him. “Come on, let’s just go to our first class,” Gabe says, as he strains to smile.

We get through all of our classes without a hitch and gratefully encounter no more altercations for the day. Because I was too nervous to eat in the cafeteria today, like every first day of school, all I can think about is going home and pigging out. I guess some things never change.

I feel terrible about not going to lunch and looking for Jacob, but he probably never showed up. When the last bell rings, Gabe and I exit the school and wait outside by the street for Myra to come pick us up. We
are outside a little early, but it’s only because we are trying to avoid Derrick or any of his jockstrap henchmen.

As I’m looking around, making sure no one can spot us behind the tall hedges by the sidewalk, I see him—the same priest who has been following us, standing behind a stop sign by a park bench. Enough is enough. I’m prepared to get to the bottom of all this. Though he’s reluctant at first to consent to my request, I eventually persuade Gabe to gesture the priest to come over while I look for a place to hide. The priest readily acknowledges Gabe’s gesturing attempt, and thoroughly examines the federal officers’ positions before he walks across the street. I sneak behind the bushes and patiently wait until he’s standing next to Gabe. As the priest approaches my brother, I pick up a stick on the ground and sidle up behind him.

“Hello, son, you must be Ga—”

I swiftly poke the jagged stick into the priest’s right side, digging just enough to convince him I have a knife and I’m ready to use it if necessary. With his robe blocking the officers on the other side of the street, I hide behind his black cloak. “Who the hell are you, and why have you been following us?” I sternly say.

“Arena, stop! He’s a priest, for God’s sake,” Gabe interjects.

“Okay, your holiness, start talking, I’m pretty good with a blade,” I say.

“I’m Father Joseph, a good friend of your Uncle Finnegan,” he says in a thick Irish accent, as sweat drips down his forehead.

Without hesitation, I pull the stick from his side and let his arm go. “I’m sorry, Father, but you can never be sure of things these days,” I say.

“You’re uncle has taught you very well, Arena. And you must be Gabriel,” Father Joseph says. “I know Myra is probably coming soon to pick you up, but we have much to talk about and very little time to waste.”

“How do you know Myra?” I ask.

“In time, my child, we’ll speak more, but it’s imperative we keep this our little secret, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I take it you received the letter and uncovered the hidden message your uncle sent you?”

With wide eyes open, Gabe responds, “Yes, but finding the message—”

“Was quite easy,” I interrupt. I really don’t need Father Joseph to know our struggles with the letter. It may show a sign of weakness. After all, he needs our help, and I want his confidence in us assured.

Right then, as I look at Gabe, I know that our plans this week have just been expedited. We decide to meet after school tomorrow at the old, abandoned gas station.

Before Father Joseph walks away, he digs into his pocket, pulls out an object, and places it in Gabe’s hands. “I almost forgot. Finnegan told me to give this to you when you turned fifteen.”

It’s a pocket watch. The inscription on the back of the watch says “William C. McManus.” This watch belonged to our grandfather, Connor McManus, a man of devout faith. I read somewhere that a pocket watch was a common object that’s passed down through the generations to the male as a customary token of honor. I believe that token has been passed down to a well-deserved young man. Father Joseph puts his hand on Gabe’s shoulder as a proud father would do to his son. Gabe’s lips are quivering, and I desperately want to console him, but I know this is not a moment.

“Remember to bring the key with you; it’s time to uncover your fate,” he says as he walks away.

My room seems so quiet right now that all I can hear are the thoughts racing through my head and a constant ringing in my ears. Butterflies flutter in my stomach in anticipation of our meeting with Father Joseph. I don’t know what to expect. Regardless of the so-called ties he has with Finnegan, I’m still a bit suspect of our engagement. I don’t know how I’m going to get any sleep tonight, but I do know one thing for sure: tomorrow is a new beginning for Gabe and me.

I hear footsteps lightly tapping up the stairs and know right away that it must be Niki. I’ve lived here long enough to recognize the patterns of everyone’s footsteps as they ascend the stairs. I walk over to the door to open it before she can knock, and greet her with open arms.

“Hey, girl, how was your first day at school?” she says, hugging me.

“Well, I-uh,” I stutter, then pause for a few seconds. “I think I may have put Gabe in an extraordinary situation that he’d rather not applaud me for.”

“What did you do?” Niki asks. I explain to her the unfortunate circumstance and my intentions for Gabe, and by the look on her face I notice the immediate concern she has for him. I now feel even guiltier about what I did, but somehow she makes me feel better about what happened today. She has a knack for making the most negative situation seem better than what it appears to be. This is what a big sister is for, so I convince her to help me make Gabe feel better before he goes to sleep.

“I know Gabe could probably use some encouragement. It may sound better coming from you, and who knows, he’s probably forgotten about the whole thing,” I say.

“Your brother is obsessive-compulsive, I doubt it,” says Niki.

We knock on his door, and as the door creaks open, all I can see is Gabe pacing back and forth and talking to himself. Lying on his bed is an inside-out shirt, with black tape and hard plastic pieces attached to the chest and shoulder areas. His pants appear to be stuffed with something.

“Gabe?” I ask gingerly. I know he desperately could use some comforting words right now, but all I can think about is what we will find in that basement with Father Joseph. It’s quite clear what Gabe is thinking about.

“Gabe, slow down, what are you doing? Arena explained to me what happen today,” Niki says.

“I’m just taking a few precautions for tomorrow’s uncertainties, a small amount of body armor if you will,” says Gabe.

“Body armor, really? Okay, look, this is absurd. I know you were worried earlier about getting dismantled, but if you walk around school in this ridiculous outfit, it’s almost a guarantee you’ll get your ass kicked,” I say.

“Easy for you to stand there and lecture me on the rules of engagement. I don’t have the luxury to defend myself with the skills you possess. I have to be a little more creative,” Gabe says.

Niki sits quietly on the bed and reaches out to take Gabe’s hand. “I greatly understand and value your position about turning the other cheek, but there will come a time when you will need you sister the most to help you. Your intentions for seeing the good in people is valued by your heart, not by a law, and even if you wanted to change someone’s heart, you can’t. That is the choice they will have to make. That’s in God’s hands, not yours. Instead of striving to follow the laws for heavenly gain, try following Him instead. Maybe you two were called to help each other. Who knows?” Niki says compassionately.

The way Gabe motionlessly stands, I can tell his heart rate has receded. Whether it was what Niki said, or just the presence of an older, wiser sister consoling her little brother, it’s enough to trigger calmness in Gabe. As we leave the room, I look back and see Gabe sitting on the bed with his eyes closed in tranquil peace. When he prays, burdens are lifted. I’m a true believer in prayer; in fact, I try to pray before unwanted circumstances happen. Sooner or later they will, it’s inevitable.