Rage of Winter Page 2

  “It’s invisible,” I whispered to myself in wonder.

  “I know,” the guy grinned. This thing was amazing.

  KYLE

  After a while we learned a few things about our new toy: the slightest twitch of the joystick and it could reach speeds faster than sound. We discovered this when I pulled the throttle, meaning to head home in it and ended up somewhere in Australia. Also what switch to pull to turn its invisibility on and off; that it had mounted machine gun turrets on either side of its nose; that it had some kind of radio above the ‘V’ window; that the hand-print shaped buttons just inside and outside the door opened and closed the ramp and that it had its very own armory. Trying the radio and getting nothing, I was opening and closing doors at random and had just stumbled onto it: a whole room devoted to battle. The shelves and racks were filled with rifles and handguns of every shape and size. There was even a fucking rocket launcher on a shelf high above. Body armor, oxygen tanks, first-aid kits and gas masks filled the cupboards. In the walk-in fridge were emergency rations, medicines and bottled water. In glass display cases further down there were what looked like tan fire or hazmat suits. In the drawers were black, khaki and white overalls of every size with matching ski masks. I shook my head, wondering what the story behind all this was. This thing was obviously some sort of advanced fighter aircraft, but from where? Who’d made it? Where’d it get its power? The instructions on the syringes and the labels on the water were written in English but that didn’t tell us much. If it was from America or Great Britain, why hadn’t we heard about it on the news?

  “Whoa,” I yelled suddenly. We’d suddenly reversed with a massive jolt. I stared, in confusion and alarm, at the wheel as it began turning itself. I tried to wrestle it back for a while and couldn’t.“Ahh,” I scowled, wrenching my hand away.

  “Hey, cool.” I looked over at the kid as she held on, for dear life, to one of the cupboard handles.

  “Have you broken something?”

  “No. I. Haven’t,” she snapped. “Check this out.” In her hand was what looked like a TV remote. As she handed it over, I saw it looked exactly like the control panel: the same glowing, arrow-shaped buttons.. To test this, I lightly pressed one of them. Sure enough, the whole thing began to move in the direction of the arrow. I pushed the up arrow; it went up. I pushed the down; it went down. A remote control spaceship? Cool.

  *

  “Holy shit, kid, is your dad Bill Gates?”

  “No,” she sniggered as I gawked at the whitewashed manor. It was one of the tallest towers in the block and looked like the kind of place a millionaire would come for his summer retreat.

  “My window is right there,” she told me, pointing to the open one in the upper-right corner. She stepped off the ramp, through the open frame and then turned back, looking up at me. “Where are you going to put it?” she asked.

  “Dunno. I’ll call and tell you when I think of a place.” Where was I going to put it, I wondered as I flew back? Invisibility didn’t solve all our problems; people could still walk into it. I scanned the landscape as it flashed past me, looking for somewhere remote and out of the way. Where was close by and a hundred percent safe? Nowhere, as far as I could tell. The woods would still have hikers walking through them. Cities and towns were out of the question for obvious reasons. As a temporary solution, I flew back to the woods outside the kid’s manor and parked it beside a tree that I could easily climb up and down. Sitting in the cockpit, I thought long and hard about another problem: if this thing turned invisible the moment it took to the air all the time, as it had in the cave, how were we going to find it again once we were out? I looked up at the tree once I’d climbed down it and, sure enough, it was like there was nothing there at all. I reached up and grasped a low-hanging branch. Flexing my left bicep, I broke it. The sharp end of the stump would serve as a marker until I came up with a better solution. I paused, looking up at it and wondering how I was now going to get back on board. I took the remote out of my pocket and hit the down button. It flew down and I exhaled through my nose as I watched the surroundings shimmer and distort on its surface. I sighed deeply. Well, that’s that. The kid will be really disappointed. I looked down at the remote in my hand, thinking hard. No, I couldn’t risk it. I stuck the remote in my pocket, my finger accidentally brushing a button as I did so. It flickered back into existence right in front of me. I yanked the remote out and scanned it. Shit, which one was it? It had been one near the right arrow. I knew that. Moving slowly and cautiously back, I took a tentative stab at the button. It vanished. I pressed it again. It reappeared. Thank God, I got that right.

  “Kid,” I called her. We’d traded numbers before I dropped her off.

  “Yeah?”

  “I found out how to turn the invisibility off and on again.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. So there’s no chance of us losing it.”

  “Cool. Let me know when you find a safe place to hide it.”

  “I will. See ya ‘round.” I flew slowly and cautiously along the road, just above the traffic, so as not to miss my home and end up in India.

  MARA

  As soon as I got home and hung up my jacket, Aunt Sarah flung her arms around me.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she squealed into my ear, spilling her drink all down my back. “Ow,” I scowled, sticking my finger in my ear once we’d parted. “Look what you did,” I told her, turning to give her a look.

  “Sorry,” she smiled. “How was school?” she asked, once I’d changed and come back downstairs. When was she going to remember when the weekends started?

  “I meant how was Friday?” she explained, suddenly remembering. Though she was Father’s sister, they were as unlike as it was possible to be: he never drank and he was driven, all business, and no regard for anything else. She, when she was here and sober enough to express it, truly did care for me and was fun to be with, more a friend than an auntie. And I’d never seen them together, with good reason: his idea of brotherly love was to criticize her and tell her what an embarrassment she was. F you. I just gratefully took my leave when this happened. At least he wasn’t here now. We ordered pizza; mozzarella for me, ham and pineapple for her, ice cream and Coke. I sighed. I just couldn’t focus on any of it; the conversation washed over my head and I ate mechanically, not tasting a thing. All I could see were the stars wheeling past our cockpit. I had gone into space. We had gone into space. I was left awed. Our own spaceship. Someone pinch me.

  “What’s wrong, Mara? You’re all dreamy.”

  “Dreamy?”

  “Yeah, you look like a pig who’s found the world’s biggest shitpile.”

  “Nice embellishment, Auntie,” I chuckled.

  “C’mon, I’m miserable and bored. Give us some tunes, huh?” I got out my guitar, an old, rusty thing that had once belonged to Andy until he became too “cool” for it, and began to play, the lyrics just spilling out, inspired by the memories of the bright stars and planets.

  Starshine, starshine.

  Your time is longer than mine.

  You’ve been there since forever.

  Oh, baby, you change never.

  I was so happy to see you up-close, to be inspired by your light.

  And see you as no one else can: at your great height.

  Starshine, starshine.

  Your time is longer than mine.

  I’m in awe of you. I don’t get how this miracle is true.

  I think of you, up there in heaven, and I can’t believe I can see you

  Twenty-four, seven.

  Starshine, starshine.

  Your time is longer than mine.

  You were there before I was born.

  I wish I could see you every morn

  You’ll be there long after I’m gone.

  Everything down here you’ve far outshone.

  St
arshine, starshine.

  Your time is longer than mine.

  I feel sorry for those who

  Go their whole lives never seeing what I have seen:

  You in all your fiery glory.

  To them you’re just a twinkle.

  It feels kinda mean.

  Starshine, starshine.

  Your time is longer than mine.

  I’m glad you’re up there,

  Giving glory to the night.

  Your glory reminds me how small I am.

  Stay gold. Stay bright.

  Starshine, starshine.

  Your time is longer than mine.

  Sarah applauded and whooped for all she was worth.. Gasping and breathing like I had asthma, I stood and took a bow.

  “Rock Goddess, you never disappoint,” she grinned. “Seriously where did that come from? You were on fire.”

  “I just had a nice day, that’s all.” I yawned suddenly.

  “Okay, time for bed, I think.” I nodded.

  “Goodnight, Auntie.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I smiled. I changed for bed, brushed my teeth and curled up with Watership Down. I read up to where Bigwig, Hazel and the others gathered around to listen to Captain Holly’s grim account of the destruction of the Sandleford Owsla before throwing the book away and turning the light out. It was depressing me. As I lay in the dark, I wondered how I could sleep. Counting sheep seemed well…stupid. I couldn’t do it anyway: they kept turning to stars in my head. Turning on my nightlight again, I reached for my phone.

  “Hi,” I smiled.

  “Hey, get home alright?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “You?”

  “Fine. I’m telling ya this stealth thing’s incredible. It’s floating right outside, next to the balcony rail, and no one suspects a thing.”

  “Amazing,” I grinned, shaking my head. “I dunno how I’m gonna sleep.”

  “Hah, hah, me neither. When I get trouble, I just try not to think about it.”

  “Counting sheep?”

  “Nah, just trying not to think, letting my mind drift off.”

  “How?”

  “I lie on my back, breathe deep and tense and un-tense each muscle.”

  “Hold on.” Keeping the phone by my ear, I lay back, just as he had said, and breathed deep. “Okay.”

  “Wrinkle your forehead, like you’re really pissed – sorry, angry.” I did so.

  “Now relax, let your brow clear. Then clench your jaw, grit your teeth. Then relax it.”

  “Okay,” I frowned. “That will help me sleep?”

  “Yeah, do the same thing with all your muscles: legs, arms, stomach and chest. You’ll feel them get looser when you relax them. Then, when you’re totally relaxed, you’ll just drift off.”

  “Okay, I’ll try it.”

  “It’ll work, trust me. It always does for me.”

  “Right. Um, thanks. Goodnight…?”

  “Kyle.”

  “Mara.”

  “Mary?”

  “Mara.”

  “Goodnight, Mara.” I hung up and tensed and relaxed all my limbs until, like he said, I just drifted off.

  KYLE

  I rarely came here, to the neighboring district of Gramercy, unless I could possibly help it. I thought it was too snobbish and stuck up with all its restrictions and security and gated communities. I cruised slowly along the roads and avenues, familiarizing myself with the landmarks, as I looked around for the right block: the golden point of the Life Insurance Company building, Appellate Court, the arts club, the library and Gramercy Park.

  I gave a low whistle as I again eyed the huge manor, wondering just how rich this kid was. Her pocket money probably comes in an R.V. I suddenly remembered that her father, Ronald Hale, was into big industry: overseas international stuff. Fuck it, what did I care? I didn’t wanna be rich. The alleyway on East Nineteenth Street was called The Block Beautiful and was okay, I supposed, if you were into wrought-iron gates and whitewashed walls, which I wasn’t. Give me a nice, modest, cozy log cabin any day. Still, the park was scenic enough. I spun the ship around to get a look. Sure enough, it was only open to residents. I saw several people turned away by the guards at the entrance of the barred, pointed gate. I frowned, shaking my head. The outskirts were no different than the interior. Annoyed, I spun around and landed, smiling as I saw flash cars going by the road just outside, the snobs driving them totally oblivious to the spacecraft hovering right next to them. I glanced around the cockpit, wondering, yet again, what we were going to do with it. I couldn’t keep it at my place. One nosy neighbor coming by at just the wrong moment and footage of me vaulting over the railing and walking through a doorway in thin air would be all over YouTube. I watched Mara come into view, walking slowly up the mile-long driveway. She pushed a button on some kind of intercom just inside the gate and it swung open. She walked through and crossed the road. We’d arranged to meet here earlier. She sat for a while on a bench, waiting for a lull in the traffic and looking over her shoulder at the faint telltale shimmering in the air that this thing always gave off. When I’d seen it for the first time I’d thought there was a giant bubble right in front of me. Seeing no one in sight for a precious second, she got up and leapt aboard.

  “Where to, miss?” I asked, grinning, in a posh, exaggerated English accent.

  She smiled and shrugged. “Surprise me.”

  I smiled, hoping she would say that. “Did you bring beach gear, like I told you?”

  “Um, hm.”

  “Good.” I handed her the travel guide I had brought specially.

  “You’re kidding?” she gasped, whipping her head around to look at me, her eyes shining.

  “No, I’m not,” I grinned.

  “Hawaii? I can. Not believe it. I mean what a weekend!” I smiled at the awe on the kid’s face as we walked out of the pine trees, onto the beach. She looked like someone in a dream. For a while the two of us just stood there, skipping a few stones, taking in great gulps of the sea air and letting the warm breezes blow in our faces.

  “Waikiki Beach,” I smiled.

  “Hmm?”

  “That’s what this stretch of coast is called.” Our first ports of call were respective changing rooms in the Capitol District where we put on our gear. I thanked God they dealt in dollars here as well as I still had to learn how to transfer my dollars into yen or whatever. Emerging, we looked the part of a vacationing family. I wore a floral Hawaiian shirt, shades and trunks. Mara wore the traditional grass skirt over a red one-piece and a flower behind her ear with large-rimmed shades and a huge, wide-brimmed red beach hat that looked bigger than her. We both wore flip-flops. In my knitted bag there was sun cream and beach mats. We took a little siesta on Waikiki’s golden beaches, letting the sun bake us. I treated myself to an ice-cold beer while Mara lay back on her mat, enjoying her ice cream with her face covered by Watership Down. Some olive-skinned woman in a two-piece, walking along the shoreline, smiled at me flirtatiously as she went her way.

  “Do I detect an admirer?” Mara asked, folding the book and following my gaze.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I smiled demurely, blushing a little.

  “You seem to be a hit with the ladies,” Mara grinned.

  “Not by choice though.”

  “Why not? Shy?”

  “I guess. Either that or I haven’t met anyone I like yet and women who throw themselves at guys do not attract me. Anyhow, how’s the book?”

  “‘S okay. Grim, though.”

  “Grim?” I frowned.

  “When the warren’s destroyed.” I craned my neck to read her page and found she had a point. She was just getting to the part where the gas starts killing rabbits and their corpses get torn apart by those still-living in their frantic struggle to get out. She sniffed a little, look
ing upset.

  “Hey,” I smiled, putting an arm around her shoulders, “some of them make it.”

  “Yeah, two: Holly and Bluebell.”

  “Three,” I corrected. “Read on.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she smiled as she read on. “This is the best day of my life,” she smiled.

  “Hmm,” I smiled.

  “You happy?”

  “Of course,” I assured.

  “What was the best day of your life?”

  “The death of my father.”

  “Rrrrreally?” she blinked.

  “Oh, yeah. Ffff— screw him. He was a wife-beating bastard. I’ll bet you anything it was the best day of Mom’s as well.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “We waited until the dust had settled,” I smiled fondly, “and then me, Mom and Sandy had a graffiti contest on his headstone. She was quite artistic actually,” I grinned.

  “Sandy?”

  “My sister.”

  “You like her, huh?”

  “She was the reason me and him fought so much. I just could not take him hitting her. If he hadn’t died when he did…” I muttered grimly. Mara nodded.

  *

  When we’d tanned enough, we decided to explore inland, talking about more pleasant things. Honolulu truly was paradise. In the Kane’ohe district there actually was a Japanese temple. Of all the unexpected places to put one…It was set into the green heart of the island, on the northeast, amid the lush gardens and parks. It looked like something straight out of Crouching Tiger with its concrete bridge, guarded by red rails and supported by great struts with sloping, tiled roofs, sliding doors and a tree-lined border. I could see all manner of trees, in the distance, over its roof. It even had a small garden with a spiky picket fence.