Change the World / I'm Not Alone by C.T. Lang (ebook reader with built in dictionary txt) 📕

so, Mullet." Well she just didn't understand. It was normal! I threw my legs over the side of the deck into the lifeboat and slid down.

"Where're you goin'?"

"Fishin'," I replied grimly.

"All your stuff's in the cabin, with Roy."

"Then I'll use my hands."

"You need a bag?"

"I'll toss 'em back!"

"Well, okay then, if—"

But I was already gone.


Chapter Six: Light in the Distance

I stood up, quite uncomfortably, since, as Mullet predicted, my legs were still mostly frozen. At least it couldn't hurt, what with no feeling but numbness from the top of my thighs to the bottom of my feet. But I still had to lean on the walls for support. Then I saw something incredibly strange.
"Bea!" I called. She came running.

"What's the matter, Cowgirl?"

"Where's Mullet?" There was an edge to my voice I tried to hide.

"Fishin'." She rolled her eyes, "I know. Why?"

"Look out there!" I pointed out the window.

"Well, what is it? I don't see anything?"

"Squint." I ordered her. "There's a light in the distance."

"Oh yea! I couldn't see it without my glasses, but—hey! It's coming too close!"

"I know. What is it? Go check."

She ran to the deck, and I tried to hobble closer to the window.

"You're right! Oh my gosh, it's a raft! There's a person on it!"

I was becoming visually panicked. If someone discovered Mullet Finger's hiding place, he would have to move. If he had to move, I'd never see him again.

Not to mention all the cool creatures that would die. All because of a stupid raft…

But I was getting ahead of myself. Thank God for Beatrice the Bear. I just sat back listening to her cool, smooth voice.

"Hello?"

"Ah, hello! We… need… uh, help!" A Spanish voice. But Bea had grown up in Florida, and knew basic conversation.

"Venga conmigo." (Come with me.)

"Uh, el muchacho (the boy), he tell me, you go this way to the boat, yes? Y las personas alli ayudaté y su nina." (And the people there will help you and your baby girl.) Then I heard it: A piercing wail, put up by a Hispanic toddler.

"Su nina, necesita el hospitál?" (Does your baby need a hospital?)

"Si, necesitamos un medico, por favor! Está enferma!" (Yes, we need a doctor, please! She's sick!)

"No preocupe, yo le cuidaré de." (Don't worry, I've got you. You're fine.)

Bea took out the ladder and led the mother off of the boat, yelling to me, "Stay where you are, Roy! I'll be back after I make Leon dinner!"

I sat; what else could I do? I felt utterly useless, and now I had no chance of getting my legs back soon now that Mullet had gone. I would have to keep them covered and still to ward off the frostbite, and hope infection didn't set in with disuse. I tried futilely massaging them myself, but my hands grew cold and tired, and I was afraid they'd stiffen up again. I wondered what time it was, and if I could go to sleep if I tried. I found I could… and… (yawn).

I was so knocked out I didn't notice the creak as the window opened and a slim, blonde figure slid deftly inside the cabin.


Chapter Seven: An Angel

I introduced the mother to the translator, and then I tried to run off when he went back for a notepad, but the young Cubana grabbed my hand. I looked back, and there were tears in her eyes.
"Thank you." She said in simple English. "Thank you!" And her voice cracked.

I bit my lip. What could I say? "De nada." You're welcome sounded so lame.

She wiped away tears with the back of her sleeve.

"Dice gracias al muchacho tambien." (Tell the boy thank you, too.)

I froze. How could I convince her that my step-brother didn't exist? I couldn't argue with a woman so distraught, but I couldn't chance that she'd blab to the translator, and it would make trouble for Mullet Fingers.

"No fue un muchacho, señora. Fue un ángel." She looked a little puzzled, but I trusted her faith to lead her on. As the translator started to walk to us, I ran down the hall and burst through the double doors out of the hospital, my own Spanish words echoing in my head:

Not a boy, an angel.


------------------------------------------------------((((((Mullet Finger's POV!))))))
I sat there for a few minutes, just watching Roy. How he was breathing, was he sweating, how was his muscle control, all the medical stuff Merlin had taught me to watch for, what were they called? Oh, duh, the VS: vital signs. And thinking about Roy was too complicated, so I guess I drifted back a couple months…

FLASHBACK:

"Psst. You awake, kid?"

"Yea. I'm ready."

The familiar lunch bag came over my head, and I groped for his hand.

"C'mon, you should know the way now." He wouldn't lead me. So I strained to remember the steps I'd take last night.

I made it about ten paces, then THUD!

I rubbed my knee, managing not to yowl in pain. I was an old hat with pain recovery now. I felt blood. Great. I tore off part of the bag to stop the bleeding so I wouldn't leave a track, and I edged around the bedpost that had attacked me.

"whip-poor-will. Ooo-ooo-o." I answered with a "Oo-oo. Oo-oo." My call, a hoot owl. It felt good to be recognized, that he knew I was hurting, and he'd fix it.

Just as soon as I got to the place.

After another ten minutes of struggling, I found myself out of the trail and into the woods, where I could safely remove my bag. When I did, a hand came on my shoulder. I started before I realized it was Merlin.

"Good job, kid."

"Hey Merlin?" I asked.

"What?"

"My knee's bleeding."

"Oh. Hey, lemme show you how to fix it." He looked around. "Go get some of those leaves."

"Which ones?"

"The fluffy ones down by that patch of moss."

And we spent the evening on something sorta like plant studies, where he'd show me where stuff growed, and what to use it for. I almost forgot what I'd been dying to tell him earlier as we were running like wolves in the moonlight.

"Merlin, man, I think I'm gonna run away."

He stopped dead in a run, and I nearly ran into him.

"How?" I noticed he didn't ask why, and I didn't want him to. I wasn't ready to tell him about the newest form of entertainment in the barracks, a sadistic form of torture that starred me. Besides, he probably already knew.

"I don't know. Can you help me?"

He considered for a minute, and then started running. I was confused. Was this his way of saying no? But he motioned for me to follow, so I sprinted after him. My legs were getting muscular after the severe training we did, plus all the running I did for an hour at night. I was grateful. I'd probably need it later, and running in the mountain forest was a joy to be free, not like on the black, round track at base camp.

"Kid, if you're gonna run away, you need to get past that."

I stared. He was pointing at a huge wall, surrounded by vicious, cut wire fences. I set my jaw stubbornly.

"I can climb pretty well."

He laughed, a strange sound in his Taiwanese accent.

"You can climb the Thunderwall? In my language, we have no word for this kind of power. Look." He swiftly ran to the wall, peeled off a shoe, and threw it at the Thunderwall. It… vibrated. The wall was electric! I hung my head in shame.

"What will I do?" He picked up the fallen shoe and slid it back on.

"You gotta get to town and hitchhike."

"How will I get there?"

"The third-years are taking a trip there two days from now. You can sneak on the bus, if you're ready."

I considered the possibility grimly. There was no doubt it would be risky. But in my mind were the greedy, piggish eyes of the bigger boys, the hands that clawed but never felt, and my own pain. And I knew as long as I was within reach, they wouldn't stop.

I nodded, and we began running back.

FLASHBACK OVER.


Chapter Eight: Gory Fun

"I can't do this." Roy was forced to admit.
Bea strutted into the room, and cracked her knuckles.

"Okay, cowgirl. I'm not Mullet, but you gotta go to school. C'mon."

He willingly held out a stiff leg, supported by both hands. She kneeled at his side and kneaded his muscles as if she was rolling out dough for cookies. Roy winced, and she smirked at him.

"Shouldn't-a had such an attitude, man." No remorse, Bea was frustrated. Mullet Fingers still hadn't returned, even after Bea came back from fixing Leon breakfast. She had been sure he would return to help Roy. Was there a deeper problem between them? Even she, who understood Mullet best, couldn't know.

"Owwww…"

"Shut up, cowgirl."

"Okay, I think I can move it! Next one." She obliged, shoving his other leg out like she'd push a door open. "Ease up, no tension." Roy tried not to bite his lip.

After what seemed like forever, he was ready to change and hop on the handlebars of her bike.

"C'mon cowgirl, you better not make me late."

And sure enough, they arrived just as the first bell was ringing. She ran off to join the soccer girls without another word, leaving Roy to limp off to his first class.


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Math and English went by fine, except for the fact that Roy was bored to tears and reduced to staring blankly out of the window in both classes, dreaming of boat rides in the mires, jetting by the beach and jockeying a boat from the dock with Mullet (AND Bea, his brain told him tauntingly). He didn't even notice when the bell rang for lunch, so he had to run to make it there on time.
Finding a lunch table was hard since Bea was in the library, presumably working on an upper-grade project with her class. Roy stood for several seconds looking for Garret before he found him by the water fountain.

"Hey man."

"Hello Garrett."

"What are you doing on Saturday?"

"Well, I think my parents are planning something. Why?"

"Dude, try and get out of it. We're gonna go watch a cock-fight in the Freedoms." The Freedoms were a government-assisted neighborhood, a nice way of saying ghetto in Roy's dad's opinion.

"I dunno…" Roy searched for an excuse. What could he say?

"Admission's free, but they're taking a lot of bets. I've got 5 bucks on the yellow one already, just for kicks. Right?"

"Ha, yea." Now he was fishing for anything to say.

"Why do they have cock-fights down here? Sounds boring." Sounds violent, is what he meant.

"Nah, man, it's awesome! Better than wrestling on TV!" Another gory entertainment Roy did not enjoy. Great.

"Yea I'll try to come, but I'm not sure. My folks'll kill me."

"Yea, just try. It's not like you won't