On Unfaithful Wings by Bruce Blake

Author:Bruce Blake
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Fantasy, Thriller, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯), Science Fiction
Publisher: Best Bitts Productions
Published: 2011-12-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Three days. No scroll, no Gabe; even Poe didn’t drop by. Maybe I should have been relieved, but I wasn’t. Instead, one thought ran through my mind:

Did I do something wrong?

How was I going to get another shot at my life if there were no scrolls, no souls to lead to their salvation? I paced restlessly.

In the afternoon, I couldn’t bear waiting anymore and swapped license plates with another car, threw away the parking tickets collected under my wiper, and drove to the old neighborhood to sit outside Rae’s house for a while. No one home. I left before anyone got suspicious enough to take note of the color of the car and the numbers on the stolen tags, then spent some time cruising. My aimless wandering took me by Trevor’s high school where a gaggle of teenage boys in blue shorts, green shirts and mud-caked shoes ran around the field chasing a black-and-white patchwork ball. At his mother’s insistence, Trevor played soccer, though I didn’t know if he’d be among those kids.

I parked the Escort and headed toward the bleachers sprinkled with cheering parents. Halfway there, I spied Rae perched in the front row. My heart jumped. I stopped, staring at her until a line judge ordered me off the field.

I cringed as the bleachers creaked under my steps when I took up a position four rows behind her. I didn’t want her to turn around. If she saw me and didn’t recognize me, it would break my heart all over again. Worse, though...what if she did ?

She’d colored her hair since I played peeping-Tom through her living room window--blond highlights to make her look younger. It looked good. I surveyed the sparse crowd, checked up and down the sidelines: no Ashton. Probably out bringing home the bacon.

Was she with him while she was with me?

I averted my gaze and scanned the field for my lanky fifteen-year-old amongst two teams of lanky fifteen-year-olds. Right away, I saw Trevor slouching in the backfield, barely following the play, arms crossed in front of his chest like a soccer field might be the last place on earth he wanted to spend his afternoon. I snickered at how out of place he looked, but felt for him, too. Like a good parent, Rae insisted he do two extracurricular activities--one physical and one artsy-fartsy. I hoped drama was working better for him.

The game ended fifteen minutes after my arrival. Trevor touched the ball once in that time, intercepting an errant pass and clearing it up-field without looking. The other team brought it back down and scored, but, as the saying goes, it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s that you play because your mother told you to. Trevor plodded to the bleachers and looked disgusted when Rae ruffled his shaggy hair. I shuffled a couple levels closer to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“You were fine,” Rae said. She’d lost weight--too skinny. The sound of her voice made the back of my neck prickle.

“No, Mom.

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