The streets were congested, bustling, noisey, and perturbed with that smell oddly unique to this part of New York city. It was part hotdog stand, part damp wool, and always seemed to crop up when you least expected it to. School was out for the day and that fact saw Calliope Greer-Kassem walking home, hood up against the stiff seasonal breezes this time of year was known for. Dad would sometimes pick her up when he wasn't deeply invested in a chapter or alternatively, beating his head against the wall with writer's block. When he was however, and Baba was caught up in his duties as an educator it was up to her own two feet and public transportation to see her safely to the warm, cozy apartment that was home.
Casually dressed and easily lost in a crowd Calliope burned with an inner light and determination to save the world that set her apart from her peers. Reckless, and tenacious to a fault with her causes, she was very opinionated and always had something to fight for, even if the bigger picture sometimes alluded her. From issues that affected her directly such as equality rights for her fathers and adoption to broader, more encompassing ambitions like fighting global warming, and overfishing, she'd been a firecracker from day one.
Still however, Calliope just a regular teenage girl with typical problems like navigating the thinly iced lake that was the school cafeteria, being the subject of bathroom stall graffiti, or passing algebra, the sole bane of her existence.
Headphones on the girl kept a steady pace following the well worn route she knew like the back of her hand. Say what some will about Nickelback, but songs like "If Today Was Your Last Day," and "When We Stand Together" just lifted her mood and got her revving for action.
There was a sudden, short succession of vibrating pulses in Calliope's back pocket making her give a sigh as the music dimmed. What was the point in listening to something if you didn't listen to it at full volume anyway? Pulling out her phone she eyed it's sleek gleaming face, a text from Baba.
"Sorry sweetie, got a lot of grading today won't be home til later." it read, before another came in. He had a terrible and predictabley lame parental habit of sending one sentence per text. "And I don't think we'll be bowling tonight, we've still got more to file."
With the distinctive flaw of being unable to type on her phone and walk at the same time the teen ambled distractedly to the side of a nearby building where she rested her back and allowed her thumbs fly free and unencumbered by the necessity of dividing her attention with spelling and watching where she was headed. "It's cool," she wrote back. "We'll take a rain check. Besides I would have crushed you guys anyways! ;P"
With a tradition of family bowling at least once a month the trio could get fairly competitive, but somehow Calli always had the edge on the old folks. The phone buzzed again, it's owner's face brightening with humor and enthusiasm at the response. "If you don't choke again! XX/X/XX/X"
Laughing at the good natured taunting that could likely be translated into Morris code of it were dots and dashes rather than X and slashes, she shook her head. It was a running joke, Calliope could never get a turkey, always managing to lose the elusive fowl of three strikes gold!
It didn't really bother the girl that they would be unable to go today, she'd much rather her parents kept filing paperwork and fighting the oddly bureaucratic nightmare that was the American adoption system. A blend of hopeful anxiety flooded through her veins as she bounced on her toes craning her head back to look up at a strangely foreboding sterling grey sky.
It wouldn't be the first adoption to crumble apart right beneath their feet, washing the family into the stagnant abyss that was the gripping depression which consistently followed such failure. They were so close this time though, they'd even had play dates with the little boy everyone hoped would soon be a permanent addition to the family, and the perspective big sister for one wasn't entirely sure she could lose out on the silly little boy she'd already grown close to.
He was a little punk, Calli liked to joke. Cheeky and rambunctious as a six year old should be he'd discovered one of the teen's greatest weaknesses early on. Calliope didn't typically have an issue with teeth as long as they stayed in their neatly appointed little rows and she didn't have to look at them for too long, clearly far from dentist material. The instant they began to wiggle or pop out on the other hand and it was kryptonite levels of repulsion. When Andre proud of the accomplishments of growing up attempted to show off to her his loose chompers he soon discovered a good way to see Calli run and began chasing the nervously laughing girl all over the playground chosen as the neutral meeting place. Clearly he was over-qualified for position as little brother.
After thinking for a moment the young woman started up a group message consisting of herself and her parents. Helping win Andre seemed like the one fight Calliope had no real part in despite how much she wanted to. Now with concerns of an "overly blended background" in the family being raised as if because there would be three ethnicities and two distinct faiths in one house someone decided things weren't going to work out after all.
The futility of her efforts seemed to hang about her shoulders in a damp, clinging force of oppression as she typed. If there was one thing she absolutely could not stand it was the sense of uselessness the whole process left her with. As a result she found that removing herself from the situation from time to time was the best course of action.
Giving her parents the heads up that she was going by the animal shelter to see if she could get some volunteer time in, Calliope turned on heel and headed for the bustling roar that was the subway station, drowning out the swallowing cacophony all around her with the harmonic tones of Chad Kroeger's sweet voice.
Bosco was an older dog with stage one cataracts, arthritis, and a distinguished grey fade to the formerly sleek black fur around his muzzle. A lab something mix he'd been a family dog for much of his life, until, unexpectedly he found himself here. He was one of Calliope's favorites, and with a gentle demeanor and a ball fetching tenacity that seemed to be affected very little by his age save for occasional stiffness she had high hopes that a forever home was just around the corner for Bosco.
"Hey buddy!" she called enthusiastically walking between the kennels. Bosco perked immediately and Callie felt a sharp tug on her heartstrings. If things weren't so crazy at home with trying to get Andre and all she would have asked her dads to let her get him. Because really all the old boy needed was somewhere warm and loving to live out the last few years of his life and it just didn't seem fair that he had to spend them here.
The dog whose tail was an instantaneous whirling propeller of happiness and anticipation began to whimper and yelp with excitement, nosing at the latch of the chain link door as he watched the girl approach. His enthusiasm was catching and soon the kennel was filled to the rafters with baying, yipping, and deep baritonous howls. It was what took volunteers the longest to get used to, the deafening melancholic wailing of dozens of dogs each desperately vying for the love and attention of someone, anyone. Some nights the sound invaded the soft-hearted young woman's dreams, as she felt she could never give enough of herself to any of them.
Slipping the loop leash over Bosco's head the girl led the way to one of the small dog runs where potential owners got the chance to interact with any canines they were interested in before signing papers and being trusted with any type of actual responsibility. Once there Calli set the old man loose quickly proceeding to be lavished with wet sloppy kisses and the overjoyed yodel-esque sounds dogs made when reunited with people they considered to be part of their pack.
"Oh I know it!" she laughed roughing behind his floppy ears in between love maulings and smacking her lips against his fur. After she'd regained some semblance of order Calliope reached into the toy bin and produced a well worn tennis ball, obtaining Bosco's undivided attention instantaneously. "You ready to play handsome man, huh? You ready you get the ball? Who wants the nasty ball?" she questioned waving the coveted item about.
With a rush of exhilaration the girl's hands were free and the sharp tak, tak, tak, of dog paws on linoleum could be heard racing away from her. Calliope liked to tease the dog, and call him "warden" when they played fetch for the eccentric way he would go after the flighty object and then punish it for its endeavors seeking freedom. "Oh, was inmate Bouncy bad? Did he get away?" she cooed praising him for a good return.
The duo played together for nearly half an hour before the lab mix began to be fatigued. Promising that she'd visit again soon Calliope went to the clipboard at the far end of the room, logged the twenty-three minutes of play and then scoped out the canines who gotten to enjoy the run least frequently, making a mental list of the remaining time she intended to stay before closing as she did so.
The following hour and a half saw Calliope transformed into a tennis ball throwing, tug rope pulling, belly rubbing, hound praising machine. By the time she'd finished for the day her personal trials all but forgotten she'd spent the quality time so desperately needed with as many of her furry friends as possible. The doors were closing in twenty or so the lights given a brief flicker as a nonverbal cue to pack up, and Calli did. Saying her goodbyes she headed for the door, but not before first paying a quick visit to the Knitting Nanas who were just getting ready to leave for the evening also.
Comprised of elderly women, widows mostly, who brought their knitting, crocheting, or reading with them to the shelter, the Knitting Nanas was a volunteer group that would sit for hours offering the resident felines warm laps to sit in and easy conversation while they worked on their projects. It was good all the way around, Calliope thought, the cats got human interaction and love, and the Nanas got out of the house and a chance to socialize, besides they baked the best cookies anywhere.
"Love you Nanas!" Calli waved ducking into the cat section for a second. The ladies chuckled and waved at their favorite fellow patron, Ms. Presley swearing that one day she'd make a knitter of Calliope yet.
Then once more Calli was walking the beat she knew so well only this time it was dark and cold. Nibbling the inside of her lip with mild apprehension the girl eyed the heavens warily. The smooth grey clouds of late afternoon had begun to build and lump together as darkness fell, descending to hang in low crushing waves over the city it more than looked like rain. Parking her rear just outside the shelter and whipping out her cell Calli put together a quick message, ruddy brown hair flying out around her face, caught in a sudden gust.
"Hey Baba, home yet?" the text read. Pulling up her hood and folding her arms as she waited for a reply Calliope reflected on her day. It had been decent overall, not that she was entirely sure there were any good days that involved math class, but hey, she thought compromising, you gotta do what you gotta do. After a few moments of no response the teen headed for home, dropping by a corner store and grabbing a Monster on the way. They were terribly bad for her health she was well aware, but addictive nonetheless.
The delectable, carbonated, caffeine laced treat in hand she kept on going, trying to once again reabsorb herself in the stirring ferver that was her favorite band. It could have been that she shared a name with one of the Muses, she forgot of which domain, but for some reason music was an integral part of her life. This time however when the audio fell to a hush it was with relief rather than annoyance that Calli retrieved the mobile from her pocket.
"Yeah baby, on my way now." Calliope who had stopped walking, was already drafting a reply when the follow-up sentence came through in typical delayed Baba fashion. "Need a ride?"
"Yes please," she tapped out erasing the earlier draft. "I'll be at the Circle K, k? -heart-"
"See you in ten. -heart-" buzzed the affirmative making her grin.
Satisfied the teen fiddled with the device to get the music running again. After some trial and error failing for a time to realize she'd become unplugged her jam session was resumed at full blast. Bopping to the beat Calliope turned to back track the more than a block and a half of headway she'd made, when she'd nearly run into someone. It was with an awkward laugh and words of apologies on her lips when the tall suddenly imposing figure smiled wickedly and shoved the young woman backwards into the alley she'd unwittingly paused before.
Fear lanced through the girl, blazing up her spine like white fire, her arms pinwheeling as she fell, phone and drink speeling off in opposed though equally air borne directions. Her momentum was roughly haulted by a pair of burly well muscled arms that emerged from behind making quick work of ripping away her backpack and hurling it down the alley.
The initial shock of the attack and paralysis in the face of terror soon gave way to the deep primal beast that resided within every being, the stark need to preserve one's own self consuming the girl as the first sharp cries of torn fabric resonated within her ears. Screaming and kicking out against the malevolent pair all thought fell away from mind leaving only automated action and reaction, Calliope was a marionette moved solely by the unseen strings of survival.
Everything was struggle against the brute force that was the attackers as Calli was hauled deeper and deeper into the dark cloying shadows that made up the thin passageway between buildings. Unable to stop her progression into the darkness the girl thrashed about savagely, scratching, kicking, and biting blindly in a maddened frenzy against the men who were growing more and more uneasy and agitated with the howling, combative youth they'd chosen to target. Legs still swinging in the brisk air, caught up by the much taller adversary that held her, it was the chance contact of Calliope's foot with the first thug's jaw that changed the tide of events.
Swearing and cupping his mouth the assailant staggered back while Calli tried clawing at his partner's face. Still locked in the frantic melee that was her fight for life the girl had failed to take notice of the blade the first man, now enraged with pain, brandished capably.
It was already too late when the steel plunged deep into her stomach, her form going rigid with pain. Something Calliope had never before been aware of in her life but was oddly the same size and consistency of a water balloon burst deep with her abdomen. Her jaw falling open the fight going out of her immediately she gasped dumbly like a trout on a hook as the blade imbedded itself two, three times more into her body, pressure building within her gut. Irrationally the girl's mind went to an upcoming history report.
She was writing a paper on two of her favorite "Greats" from history, Cyrus the Great of Persia acknowledged as having made history's oldest known declaration of human rights, and Charles the Great aka Charlemagne of the Franks last emperor of Rome, who united Europe. It was a comparative essay, and turning out quite well. Her puppet strings now cut Calliope was a rag doll thrown aside when someone shouted from a place deeper within the night's maw, scaring off the fiends that had vandalized her form. Whimpering and still far from the situation at hand, Calli struggled to cope with the fact that she might never be able to turn the paper in.
Gravel churned under the feet of the attackers as they took flight from the crime scene, the interloper racing towards the discarded Calliope. Her limbs moving in slow uncoordinated jerks, the girl's mind failing to fully comprehend what was going on around her, eyes lulling closed as her inquisitive probing fingers puzzled over the ragged wounds and hot sticky liquid trickling from them.
"You're going to be alright." came an assured male voice that seemed to float somewhere above Calli's head. There was a press of hands against her belly causing the dying girl's legs to shoot out stiffly in response. "I'm sorry, but stay with me now." the voice went on coolly as she attempted desperately to get a grasp on reality and understand the damage inflicted upon her body though her mind frantically tried to reel away. The man muttered scornfully to himself, replacing his hands with Calliope's in a swift subtle motion. "Keep up the pressure." he instructed with a commanding tone that left no room for argument. Bleary eyes opening to slits a trepidatious hope igniting in Calli's chest as he spoke.
"My Baba's on his way." she managed to whisper tears rolling down the sides of her face.
There was a moment of hesitation, the dark figure glancing about briefly as if for the first time since arriving on scene he was unsure of himself. "We can't wait." he murmured at last before sliding his hands beneath the young woman's battered body and lifting her off the trash littered ground. Calliope gasped folding in on herself, muscles contacting with discomfort as her rescuer started off at a swift pace.
Her arms feeling weak and cold as she tried to press down on the wounds without much success the girl tried vainly to put her mind elsewhere. In the end it was the odd almost rock like substance her cheek was rubbing against that won out on her withering and darting attention span.
Perplexed she moved her hands across the surface, prodding the small grooves she found in it, tracing one with its rounded edge square design. The more she probed the more intricate she discovered the minut divits and ruts were, though almost all were entirely symmetrical. Transfixed by the pattern which upon such scrutiny she discovered was less stone like that Calliope and initially imagined, in fact it was something more akin to enameled wood, or scratching the top of one fingernail with another in texture and quality.
"Hey," barked the frustrated voice of her would be savior. "I said to maintain pressure!"
Calli's legs dangled free and loose momentarily as he let go of her lower half, keeping her aloft with one arm alone. With his now free hand he pried her exploratorative digits away from what her clearly fevered mind had come to believe was his chest, physically reaffirming the need for them to remain where they were placed. With a brief authoritative squeeze of her fingers he held her hands there for a long minute for scooping his arm under her knees again. All the while his head long pelt missing not a stride in the process.
Hazy gaze seeking something new to focus on Calliope found the curve of the man's jaw. It was strong, if oddly rounded. Eyes wondering to the grim expression of determination, persecution, and a flash of responsibility when he spared a glance to her. Calliope's fading consciousness was suddenly split in disjointed, mist veiled thought. The first notion was how remarkably safe she felt though in all likelihood she was dying at that moment, while the second lingering on the seemingly more rational aspect at present, that her hero had no discernable nose to speak of.
The sky opened then, slowly at first with little intrusive drops plunking onto her face and interrupting the already tentative and hard to maintain lines of thought Calliope was currently having. Then, just when her mind was on home and the three people she loved most the downpour erupted all around the haggard duo. Thinking of all the things she wished she could have said, could have done, or done differently a cold numbness began to soak in, body and mind.
Licking her lips with a tongue that felt fat and dry after what seemed like eons of disuse, a needy sense to thank the man washed over her in intense waves. It was still a battle to speak however, even as the blue band framing his startlingly indigo eyes threatened to steal away her last moments of conscious attention. "What's your name?" she croaked in a rasping manner.
The runner grimaced. "That doesn't matter right now." he replied evasively.
"It does to me." Calliope uttered feeling less and less connected to her body with each cumbersome breath.
He looked down, face softening as if he knew something his new dependant did not. "Leo," he answered in a failing tone, taking a second to clear his throat and regain his composure before stating again in a stronger way. "My name's Leo."
A gentle smile tugged at the young woman's lips as her cold, unfeeling hands slipped away from their appointed place, and a particular darkness started to encroach on the edge of her field of vision.
"Thank you Leo." Calliope muttered falling into a pool of darkness the remorseful calls of her rescuer following her beneath the still black waters.