No Good Deed

Nothing about my life was as remarkable as my death.

That morning mom was running late so I made the pancakes. She makes them better but I learned how to make them pretty good a few years ago.

"Are you sure you don't want that last slice of chocolate cake for breakfast instead?" I joked as the smell of the burned first pancake set off the fire alarm.

"Gavin, you know everyone has to throw out their first pancake. That's why I should have had more kids. It was inevitable I'd screw you up."

"At least you're willing to pay for my therapy. That's what really matters," I quipped back.

"Ha. Ha. Besides, today I have a meeting with the big boss and I have no idea what to expect. I doubt it's a random raise. No matter what, I'm going to look forward to splitting that last slice with you after dinner. If it's good news, we celebrate, if it's bad news, we may have to follow it up with a couple of pints of ice cream."

"I'll grab some on my way home," I offered. "Cherry Garcia for you?"

After an exaggerated gag she threw her extra shirt at me. "Gross! You wouldn't DARE."

"MOM! That landed right in the batter, you lunatic!" I laughed.

Stunned, her jaw dropped. I lifted the batter-covered t-shirt and held it dripping over the bowl. I eyed the shirt, my stunned mother.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, you know I would, but not today. You look nice and I don't want to make myself late for school having to clean the batter up. I learned my lesson with the smoothie. Who knew these things fling messes as they fly?"

"Yeah, you live and learn, kid. Hey, have you seen my favorite shoes? I was wearing them yesterday." She picked up piles of laundry and dumped out the bags near the shoe stand.

"Mom, we haven't used that bag since the hike last week. They couldn't possibly be in there."

"The thing about looking for something is you can't decide where it can't be until you've found it. Because if it was where you thought it could be, you'd have found it, " sage advice as she rushed upstairs to get ready.

By the time she came back down fully dressed for work, I had pancakes and bacon on the table. I didn't even bother putting it on a plate for her. It was stacked and wrapped in a paper towel.

"To-go, thanks!" she called as she ran by, her old shoes in hand.

"I don't need more dishes to wash anyway!" I called back over my shoulder, while scrubbing the griddle.

"You're the best!" she called from the door.

"I know! Good luck with your meeting today," I said as the door closed.

I got the last of the dishes washed and winked at the chocolate cake as I put the milk away. Best chocolate cake I've ever had in my life.

"Until we meet tonight," I told the cake.

The door swung open and shoes flew in, bouncing off the couch cushions.

"Dancing in the rain!" she called just as the door slammed.

Ah, right. Yesterday when we got home it was pouring out. She hadn’t wanted to ruin her favorite shoes so she left them in the car. Once we tossed our bags inside we went back out.

Stinky with restaurant grease and body odor we let mother nature wash our stress away.

Now that I'm taller, my arm goes nicely over her when I spin her. Her hair swirled until the rain fully plastered it to her shoulders, face, and back.

I spun her one last time, off into the driveway and she broke into a solo. She's so thin from working overtime, and being on her feet all day doesn't help. She says she prefers it over a sedentary job and I get that. Some managers just sit in the office, but not Ms. Kate. She plays all the roles. She cooks, she busses tables, she seats customers, she even takes orders when she needs to. Now that I'm finally old enough to learn to wait tables, I have no idea how she does it all.

I turned and eyed the big puddle that is supposed to be our lawn.

"Do it," she had called over the relentless pounding of heavy water drops.

I took a few steps and cartwheeled right through the depths. Unexpectedly, my second hand landed lower than my first and I tucked and rolled, and landed flat on my back in the muck.

I could hear her explode with laughter so I stretched my arms and legs wide and began making snow-angels in my own personal mud-puddle as cold water rushed into my ears.

Dancing in the rain, I chuckled to myself. I knew her shoes couldn't have been in the hiking backpack. I checked the clock. Just enough time to make it to class before the first bell.

At lunch we hit up the local taco shop as usual.

"Hey, Amanna wanna tah oo you affah Chem," Nate informed me, with his mouth full of taco.

"I mean, I guess that's good. She hasn't talked to me in days. I don't know what is up. It has been driving me crazy," I sighed.

Right after class I wolfed down my snack. I'm perpetually starving. Mom always has some leftovers in Tupperware for me to grab on my way out the door. Today's snack was mom's delicious spaghetti - even cold, it's the best. Especially on days when we run in gym class, I easily inhale a whole meal in less than a minute. Between the Chemistry lab and our usual meeting spot, the whole Tupperware was empty. I even licked the bowl.

Amanda was sitting by herself on our favorite park bench. Her blonde wavy hair covered some of her face, but the sun caught the tear trails on her cheeks anyway. Something was clearly up. She was so beautiful, wearing the green shirt I gave her. Her green eyes are breathtaking any day, but when she wears green they really pop.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked as I sat down close and tried to comfort her. She jumped up and moved away as if I'd electrocuted her with static shock.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's not. It's just," she stammered.

"It's okay," I said as calmly as possible. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know where to start," she squeaked out as more tears streamed down her face. She couldn't even look at me.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, not you. You're," she looked up at me, "You're wonderful, I just." She looked back down at the ground, then at her hand. "I can't be anyone's girlfriend anymore. I love you but I just can't."

"I…"

"I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I am leaving tonight to live with my grandma. I have to," she glanced over at me, then down at her hand, pulling off the promise ring I gave her, and handing it to me. "Here."

"What in the world is happening? We were good! What is going on? Please just tell me, I can fix it," I pleaded desperately.

"You can't. No one can," she burst into tears and buried her face in her hands.

"What happened?"

"That last night we talked. I went running. It was dark and… it's my fault."

"What was?" I asked, baffled.

"I filed a police report and everything, but I just can't. I have to get out of here."

With that she turned and ran.

I looked down at the ring in my hand.

She was gone.

It was over.

I felt like I was going to explode. I wrapped my hand tight around the ring and started running so hard I felt like my legs would break the concrete.

She was my best friend for 4 years. We lost our virginity together. She was all I'd ever known of love. I couldn't just lose her.

I couldn't wrap my mind around what had happened. A police report? Running in the dark? Had someone hurt her? I would kill him.

I ran across a lawn and slammed my fist into an unsuspecting fence.

I loved her so much. I screamed. I couldn't stop my mind from imagining some guy grabbing her as she ran.

Soon the fence was streaked with blood and I could tell I'd broken a few knuckles.

I finally collapsed under my blood trail as the tears followed my fleeting anger.

"Hello?"

The voice was so very faint, coming from the yard inside of. The fence.

"Can you hear me? Help me please!"

The images of Amanda and some nasty dude cleared from my mind.

"Hello?" I called back.

"Shhh! He'll hear you. Please get me out of here!" the muffled voice whisper/screamed.

I jumped up and scurried around the front and found the gate.

I barely had a moment to wonder what my life was becoming.

The gate was locked but I hopped up and undid the latch from above.

As the gate opened I saw dog houses, bowls, and chewed up junk, but no dogs. On the side of the house, right above the ground were those tiny windows from the top of a basement. They were covered from the inside but I found her by the sound of her raspy whisper.

"My name is Marla, he took me from the gas station. I don't know how long I've been here. He's… awful," she trailed off.

"What can I do?" I asked, my own trouble forgotten.

"Go get help! Please! I am dying. You have to get me out of here. Shit. I think he's coming back. RUN!"

That's when I heard the dogs.

I'd like to think they could have been sweet, loving animals if they had been raised with love, but as it was, they were vicious.

I had a vague awareness of an angry, smirking man, standing near, hovering over me as they tore my throat, my chest, my arms, my legs. I felt one big bite of my belly, but I'm not sure if the teeth got through the fabric.

"Enough" a booming voice bellowed. "He won't be talking after that."

With one last burst of adrenaline I got on my feet and ran. If I'd worn any fabric other than jeans that day I doubt I'd have had legs left to run with.

I didn't make it far, but far enough to find someone.

"Oh my God!" she screamed as she ran towards me. "What the fuck happened to you?"

I tripped and fell, face first into someone's well manicured lawn.

She plopped right down next to me and pushed the hair out of my eyes.

"Glugalllggurlll" I bubbled through my blood filled throat. I stopped as a wave of nausea overtook me. All of mom's spaghetti came right back up, soaking this Good Samaritan.

"Oooh, okay then. Um. Just. Relax. It's going to be okay."

My body started to fail me as the adrenaline ran out and my blood pushed from my arteries.

"Hey," she said, looking me in the eyes. "I'm Callie. I'm just going to lift you into my lap, okay?"

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, slick with my blood. My head rested on her arm as she began to blur.

"It's a really nice day, isn't it?" she said, looking around. "Maybe you could just rest for a few minutes, okay? It's okay to rest. You've been through a lot."

I definitely felt like resting. I was getting so very tired.

Her brown eyes glistened with tears. Her long brown hair was full of blood and spaghetti noodles. Mom was right. I needed to slow down and chew my food better.

"When you wake," the blood soaked girl told me with a far away voice "everything will be much, much better. But for now, you sleep."