Chapter 7: An Unpardonable Act
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight
One day of the following week, a water pipe at the high school burst, so the students were sent home early. Tawa met his partner in crime on the way home. He sidled up to him and said, "Hey, Zeke, You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"
"The bikes?"
He nodded. "The bikes … My aunt and uncle won't be home for hours. We'll have them back before they even suspect they were taken. Anyway, serves them right for lording it over me."
Zeke whipped out his cell when they entered the garage. He stooped down, training the camera on the tarp, then he uncovered the bikes. He took photos, careful to capture the positioning of each one.
"What the hell are you doin' man?"
"What's it look like? This'll ensure we get a chance to borrow these again."
Over the roar of the engines, Tawa could be heard yelling, "Choo-hoo—this is livin'!"
They rode around for half an hour or so, until not wanting to push his luck, Tawa signaled for Zeke to follow him back to the rez. The two of them carefully replaced the bikes, then compared the placement to the photos. They repeated the process for the tarp.
Scrutinizing their handiwork, Zeke touted, "Not bad."
With an energetic fist-bump, his friend agreed, "Not bad at all."
Nothing was ever mentioned about the bikes, so Tawa's little ruse must've worked, huh …
After Jacob finally lifted his nephew's restrictions, Tawa should have been elated, instead, he felt annoyed at everything and everybody, including Carlie, who if he would admit it, had become exceptionally fond of.
He was even irritated with Zeke. Twice, on separate days, he went to his house, only to find him gone. What's more, he even spotted him trotting off with three or four other guys. They were all bare-chested, dressed in nothing but cutoffs, and shoeless to boot. What the hell? It was freezing outside—frostbite weather. Were these guys all nuts? Hmn … maybe they were part of a polar bear club, or involved in some wacko Quileute ceremony? Come to think of it, he remembered catching a glimpse of Jacob looking the same way, and running into the forest once or twice. Wait … didn't his uncle have a tattoo just like Zekes? So many questions with no plausible answers. It just didn't add up.
One Monday, in the cafeteria, one of the other kids sitting across the table, looked at him the wrong way. That's all it took. With narrowed eyes, Tawa growled between clenched teeth, "What are you lookin' at?"
Zeke put a hand on his shoulder. "Let it go, eh?"
Tawa wrenched his shoulder away.
The other kid answered, "Nothin' much."
The chair under him was kicked back onto the floor, and Tawa flew over the table. The fight was on.
When the basketball coach came to break it up, Tawa landed one more blow, turned, and raced out the door. That's when things started to get a little strange. At first, since he was running, the trees passed him by at a normal speed. But, damn, what the hell was goin' on? They were whizzing by, faster and faster. He leaped in the air and came down on all fours. His hands—his feet—they were covered in fur? Did he hit his head during the fight? Yeah, that had to be it. This was all in his head. He was unconscious on the floor of the high school cafeteria. Wasn't he?
Paralyzed with fright, he stood still in a clearing, his senses heightened to the breaking point. His hearing detected several howls, and it wasn't long before four wolves, the size of horses sprang into view, surrounding him.
Quil sniffed at the interloper. I don't recognize this guy.
He shifted his gaze to Embry. Hey, Don't look at me.
Tawa was speechless. What was he supposed to say to this—hallucination? And how was he hearing all this anyway?
Never mind that. Who the hell are you? And what are you doing on our rez? Paul snarled at him.
I'm … I'm Tawa.
Whaaaat? That's impossible, Quil gasped.
Well, he's standing there in front of us, Quil.
Hey, wait. I know this guy.
The wolf jumped in front of the others, face to face with Tawa, his eyes twinkling. I knew it, I knew it. I told ya, didn't I?
Told me what? And who are you?
It's me, Zeke. Don't you recognize my voice? He shook his muzzle side to side. So you finally wolfed out, eh?
I don't know what you're talkin' about.
Pushing Zeke aside, Embry interrupted, We'll explain it all later. You're probably too freaked out about now.
Ah, man, we'd better get Jake down here, Quil groaned.
Think about it, Jake. There've been beaucoup nomad sightings lately, and maybe Tawa isn't a Quileute. But really—who's to say that the gene wouldn't have been tripped in Hawaii if there were any leeches roaming around? See? Don't you get it?
Jeez, Em, I never thought of that ...
Yeah, well, that's why I do your taxes.
After all the info got crammed into his skull, Tawa made up his mind that they were all figments of his imagination.
In a deadpanned expression, Tawa growled, Vampires … Are you kiddin' me? What have you guys been smokin'?
Quil poked him in the ribs with his nose. Laugh all you want, Tawa, it's true.
I don't believe a word of it. None of this is real. It's all some kind of mumbo-jumbo. I'll wake up in the cafeteria, and this Vulcan mind-meld never happened.
Suit yourself.
Damn right I will.
Tawa trotted off to a clearing to be alone and slid down on his haunches in the bracken. Zeke followed him there and lay down on his belly beside him.
I kid you not, bro. We shape-shift into wolves and make mincemeat outta those creepy leeches.
Turning his furry head toward Zeke, he grumbled, Buzz off!
Hey, I thought we were friends.
We were. I'm not too sure about now, tho'.
Thanks a lot, pal, but it doesn't make a bit of difference. Ya can't undo it. Doesn't work that way. Like it or not, this is the real deal. All of what Quil told you is the goddamn truth.
I don't give a sh** if you have blue fairies flying around the woods. I don't want any part of this. I'm not a member of this exclusive club. This is not my home, so count me out. I need to get the hell off this freakin' rez.
He took a long breath and looked straight ahead. I said, buzz off!
Ok, I'm leavin'. When you come to your senses, look me up.
Zeke pulled himself up onto his legs, and with a swish of his tail, left Tawa there among the fallen leaves and ferns, where he stayed for hours. Finally, he phased back to his human form, lying naked, unable to motivate himself to rise from the earth.
Jacob came by with a pair of cutoffs for him. After the newly-minted wolf slipped them on, Jacob offered his hand. "C'mon, Tawa. Let's go home."
Tawa slapped his hand away. "I can get home by myself. I don't need any help from you."
His uncle threw his arms up in the air. "Oooookaaaay …"
Bella almost dropped the wet dish she was handing me to dry. Good thing my reflexes were in top form. Her eyes flashed, and her mouth opened wide. "Are you serious?"
"Yep." I popped the P for emphasis—yeah, yeah, bad habit, I know.
Her face twisted in confusion, that cute little crease between her brows appearing suddenly. She began scrubbing a pot vigorously. "I don't understand. How is that possible?
"He doesn't carry the Quileute gene. Rebecca is his stepmother for cryin' out loud. He's Kapono's son, who is, I might add, a Samoan."
"You think I don't know that?"
"Well, then, what?"
I finished drying the dish and put it back in the cupboard. "Em says that maybe he would have phased in Hawaii, but since there aren't any bloodsuckers indigenous to the area, his gene remained dormant. Anyway, there's no denying it. He's part of the pack now. We'll see how that goes. Great—two fur-covered troublemakers roaming around the forest. Why me? Why is it always me?
Carlie skipped into the living room and accosted Tawa who was sitting on the couch, playing a video game. "Aren't you gonna come with us, Tawa?"
He looked up from his device for a micro-second. "No."
"But, why not? It'll be fun, and also, my teacher's making cotton candy. Don't you like cotton candy?"
"No."
She frowned, and stood in front of him, arms akimbo. "How come you're so mad alla time?"
"Look, Carlie, I'm not mad at you. I could never be mad at you. I'm just upset with life in general, all right?'
"But why?"
"You wouldn't understand if I told you. You're too little." He went back to his game.
"Nah-ah!"
"Aw, man, look what ya made me do." He put down the iPad, and said, "Why don't you just go to your freakin' carnival. Have a groovy time. You can tell me all about it when you come home. And I know for a fact, that you will, in great detail, and then some.
"Okay, meanie. See if I care." She huffed, and turned to leave the room.
As soon as they all left, Tawa hot-footed it over to Zeke's place.
His friend poked his head out the door at Tawa's approach. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the prodigal son returnin'."
"Yeah, here I am. How 'bout that?"
Tucked away in the woodshed, they passed around a bottle of whiskey. With his new level of metabolism, beer didn't do much for him. Even so, he had to drink half the bottle to get a buzz.
Zeke thumped his forehead with an index finger. "Hey, didn't you say your aunt took the runts to the school thing?"
"Yeah, so? What's your point?"
"My point, is, moron—where's Jake?"
"Ah, he had a meeting or something at work."
"That means the bikes are fair game."
"I don't know. I'm just not in the mood."
"Sh**—you're never in the mood anymore. I do believe your fun-meter crashed when you got your hair clipped."
"Whatever …"
Tawa left, still in a foul mood. He thought about what Zeke had said to him. His friend was right—he was no fun anymore. Why did he have to come to this lousy place anyway?
His anger took hold, and he strode purposely into the garage, and got out Jacob's bike. He hopped on and thundered down the street. Going too fast, and under the influence, it was getting increasingly difficult to maneuver the beast.
Tawa recklessly drove by the school when the bike swerved and jumped the curb, up onto the sidewalk. He felt a thud as the cycle struck a little girl. She flew up in the air, about ten feet in a high arc, and came down hard onto the asphalt. His heart in his throat, Tawa roared off without stopping, leaving half a bumper and part of a broken headlamp in the road.
He'd been exhibiting risky behavior for a few months, but this was sobering. Did he just kill that little girl? What was he going to do?
The bike got stowed, but it was obvious it'd been driven. He couldn't hide that fact. Damn, he wished he could take it all back, but like Zeke said, some things can't be undone. Up until this moment, his actions had never hurt anyone else but himself. At least, that's what he thought. But now, he had innocent blood on his hands. He sat on the floor of the garage, his head in his hands.
