A Quarrel Called: Stewards Of The Plane Book 1 Read online

  02. SAM

  The Blossom was the same as always: red vinyl booths with Formica table tops, random neon signs lit up the walls, and a CD jukebox in the corner. I wasn’t crazy about its retro-diner style, but I had to admit, the food was good and the portions were big – which helped me stretch my grocery clerk paycheck a little further since I was still saving to buy a car.

  Melody and Tara walked in just as my stomach gave an embarrassingly loud growl. “You guys took long enough,” I said as the girls slid into the booth opposite me.

  “Tara was communing with a crystal. I had to tow her out of there by her Rapunzel hair,” said Melody, flashing her white teeth at me. “Cool Ramones shirt. Where’d you get it?”

  She knew very well where I’d gotten my shirt. “Oh, some chick gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday.” I took a moment to study her face – freckles, dark blue eyes, more fierce than Tara’s lighter shade, brown hair that wasn’t brown in the sun, and a slightly upturned nose that wrinkled when she laughed. My gut lurched. The Friend Zone sucks.

  “You want to see the crystal? Here!” Tara dragged my attention away by thrusting her newest purchase at me from across the table.

  I’m usually a good sport, even though I think Tara tries a little too hard to get my attention. I don’t want to encourage her, but she’s Melody’s friend. And ever since I told Melody about my dreams, Tara has found me even more interesting, like I’m somehow her secret new-age lab partner. I took the bundle and folded back the tissue paper. It was quartz, I could clearly see that – geology being my favorite subject – and double-terminated, which is a little bit rare. But other than that, it looked fairly average to me. Clear, but not too clear, colorless, shiny. Yep, it was quartz. “Nice,” I said, as I handed it back.

  “No, no, take it out of the wrapping and hold it for a second. It has a nice little buzz.”

  Melody rolled her eyes, and I pretended not to notice as I gingerly took the crystal from the paper and held it in my hand. It was decently heavy, being about six inches long, and about an inch and a half in diameter. I could bludgeon someone with it in an unfair fight, so at least in that way it was useful. I smirked.

  “There! I saw that, you do feel something!”

  I looked up at Tara and shook my head. “Sorry doll, but I was just thinking about how this is heavy enough to smash someone’s brains in…it might be worth having on you during the zombie apocalypse, though. If you can’t use it as a weapon, you could build a radio with it.”

  “You guys ready to order?” The waiter looked down on us from an impossibly tall height.

  “Geeze, guy. How tall are you?” I asked. But the guy wasn’t paying attention to me. He was busy looking from Tara to Melody and back to Tara again.

  Tara giggled. “Um, I’ll have the hummus. But will you bring me an extra pita? Two isn’t quite enough.”

  “Sure thing,” he said and looked to Melody, who was peering up at him with an odd expression on her face.

  “I’ll have the Thai-fried rice with pork,” she paused. “Do I know you?” Her eyes darted to his nametag, which was remarkably anonymous with only the letter ‘G’ on it.

  The waiter scribbled down her order. “Maybe? I used to live here a long time ago, when I was little.” He turned to me.

  I was distracted watching Melody watching our waiter. “Uh, yeah, bacon double cheeseburger with onion rings.”

  “Harry?” Melody says, hesitantly at first.

  The waiter’s head jerked to look at her suddenly. “Not anymore. Just ‘G.’ now.” He paused to consider her face more carefully.

  “I do know you!” she exclaimed. “You’re Harry Watkins. You were in my kindergarten class. We used to be friends.”

  Realization dawned on the waiter’s face. “You’re the frog girl!” he said, suddenly grinning. “Melody?”

  “Yeah! How funny! I knew you were familiar.”

  There was an awkward pause at the table as Melody and the waiter smiled and nodded, no one else knowing what to say. I broke the silence, because I just couldn’t take it anymore. My stomach growled again. “Maybe you guys could catch up later, after he puts in the order for my cheeseburger and onion rings?” I sounded like an ass, but I was really hungry and still a little irked the girls took so long.

  Melody grinned, the waiter looked apologetic, and Tara giggled again. As “Just G.” walked away, Tara’s gaze tracked him. I decided that I was going to encourage her interest; at least it would give me a break from all the crystal sensing crap.

  I just about inhaled my food while Melody gobbled down her fried rice and Tara made little swirls in her hummus as she peered idly over her shoulder at The Blossom’s new waiter.

  “You used to know him?” she asked, as transparent as the quartz she had shown me earlier.

  Melody took a long pull at the straw in her water glass before answering. I loved watching her do that – naturally pink lips pursing, oh how I could ki—

  “Yeah. We sat next to each other in kindergarten, you know, since we both have ‘W’ last names. I had this crazy thing about frogs, and a crazy frog hat to match. I guess Harry, I mean G., remembers.”

  “Well, you’re still crazy,” I said. “Only it’s over useless crap like AP World History. I mean seriously, Melody.” I paused for effect. “Whoever needs history for daily life?”

  “You mean like the average person needs geology so much more?”

  “Ssh,” said Tara. “You know it’s the only class he can pass.”

  I laughed, but secretly that last comment hurt. It wasn’t that I was stupid or couldn’t pass the other classes. It was that I just didn’t care. Geology was cool. Rocks don’t change, they don’t lie, and they certainly don’t talk back. Everyone knows that History is written by the victors and English is for pussies. The waiter came back just then, which is probably a good thing, because I had a zinger lined up for Tara, too.

  “So where have you been?” Melody asked.

  She looked up at G. with curiosity, and I had to admit, that bothered me a little bit. I wasn’t very good at hiding my feelings, and right now my feelings felt a lot like jealousy.

  “And why do we call you G. instead of Harry?” I interjected.

  G. gave a small smile and ducked his extremely tall head for a second. “Well, I got tired of being compared to either a boy wizard or an ex-president. My middle name kind of sucks all by itself, so I went with G. for short. My mom hates it, but my dad’s cool with it.”

  “I like it,” said Tara. “It’s sort of mysterious. What is it short for?”

  Old Guard? I thought. He didn’t look it; tall and brown, tight black haircut, sure, but he was too soft to be street cool.

  “I could tell you,” he said, with a waggle of his eyebrows, “But then I’d have to kill you.”

  Tara giggled. Melody giggled. I tried not to gag.

  03. G.

  “Is that you, G.?” called my dad from the back room. He was buried under some boxes, trying to find his office supplies.

  I watched him from the doorway, feeling good about my decision to move in with him. My mom’s new husband was kind of an asshole, and I felt like I was always in the way there. Mom had never wanted me to come live with Dad, but when it was obvious that Stanley and I were just never going to get along, she finally relented. Dad was enthusiastic of course, and strangely, so was I. “It’s me. I’m just going to take a shower – I’ll be back down in a few, okay?”

  “Ah ha!” Dad held up a book and came up for some air. “That military history book you asked me about. I found it. I knew it was in here somewhere.” He gazed around, bemused by the mess he had made.

  I perked up. “Cool. I’ll look at it after dinner. I know I’m going to have to turn in a Senior project this year, and if I can do something on the Nimitz, that would rock.”

  Dad grinned and tossed me the book. “I’ll go make some hotdogs. They’ll be ready in thirty.”

  I threw the book on my bed and
turned on the shower. Hot steam filled up the bathroom but not before I got a chance to see myself in the mirror – getting free lunch at the diner wasn’t doing me any favors. I was going to have to do something about that over the summer. As a senior in ROTC, I had to lead by example, and there was no way I was going to let some freshman punk at a new school run circles around me in PT. Or any punk, for that matter: Dion douchebag Dixon. Won’t miss him at all. It didn’t make sense for a guy as big as me to have a bully problem… probably the only thing that Stanley and I had ever agreed on.

  I was looking forward to a fresh start. Melody gave me her number before she left the cafe, maybe I should call and ask her about her friend with the hair.

  Hot dogs were probably the last thing I wanted to eat after working at The Blossom all day, but I didn’t tell Dad that. He would be crushed, and besides, they were a monthly tradition. Dogs on the grill, chips and guacamole on the side, and sssh, a beer. I’ll never tell Mom about Dad giving me the occasional beer—she’d go ballistic. But his theory was if alcohol wasn’t ‘mysterious’, maybe I wouldn’t be so tempted by it when I was out at parties. If I ever got invited to any, that is. Maybe that would change this year, hmmm.

  “Want to watch a movie after dinner?” I asked him as I picked up the dirty plates.

  “I have to finish this week’s column, but I could probably squeeze in a movie. What did you have in mind?”

  I had perused his Blu-ray library earlier and was amused that there were hardly any ‘new’ movies in the whole collection. Luckily, we both liked military flicks and samurai movies, so the choices were easy. “How about The Great Escape?”

  “Too long for tonight. Let’s watch that over the weekend. How about The Guns of Navarone?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll do the dishes if it will give you a little more time to get your article done.”

  “Nonsense. We’re a team in this house, and the dishes always go faster with two. Besides, if I don’t help you put things away, I’ll never find them again.”

  I grinned. He wasn’t exaggerating – his house was a veritable series of piles. He knew what was in each and every one of them, too. “Deal.”

  04. SAM

  Her eyes were still closed as I pulled away from the kiss; I admired the dark lashes against the scattered freckles on her cheeks. My heart pounded, I had been wanting to kiss her since the sixth grade. I couldn't believe I had finally done it. I put my left arm over the back of the couch and reached up to stroke her cheek with my right hand. She looked so serene, a slight smile on her face, that I was startled when my hand came away sticky and black, like spider webs oozing with tar.

  “What the?” I looked from my filthy hand to her face, still serene. “Melody!” I reached out to shake her shoulder, ignoring the way my skin crawled when I touched her. “Melody!” Her eyes didn't open, and the room and the light began to collapse around us. Her body went limp, slumping forward, her head falling on my chest and the darkness tightened around us, swallowing us, choking us. There was a presence in the darkness, slithering up from behind her. I could smell its acrid stench.

  “Orla,” it whispered.

  I jerked awake, my breath choked off, a ball of spit hanging in the back of my throat. I sat up, gasping and coughing, my chest spasming -- whether from panic or just the struggle to breathe was unclear. My senses about me again, I felt around on the nightstand for my phone and thumbed it awake. The silvery light from its face plate lit the room, and I looked around, furtively, because I could still feel the entity's presence, fading though it was. Another moment or two, and it was gone. I shivered. I fished around on the floor for yesterday’s t-shirt and took a look at my phone again -- it said 3:01am. Too early for a call, so I sent a text.

  Another dream about you, call me asap. Freaked the hell out.

  The light faded from the phone and then turned dark altogether. I could see out the window now, the summer night struggling to become dawn. No cars on the street, no one walking about, houses dark except for the occasional outside light. An adventurous cat strolled along the sidewalk, stopping to sniff the Thompson's car tire in the driveway. It made me smile just a little when the cat turned his tail and sprayed the rear quarter panel as if he were putting a fire out. Nobody liked Mr. Thompson apparently, not even the cat.

  “I got your text,” Melody said as we met on the sidewalk outside her house when morning came a few hours later. We started walking briskly in the direction of Smitty's. Ever since she had discovered French-pressed coffee, she refused to drink what she referred to as “engine degreaser” at home. Smitty's had French-pressed coffee by the gallon and thereby had become a nearly mandatory stop on our way to school. Since it was summer, we only made the trek once or twice a week when Melody walked with me to work.

  “Effing creepy,” I said.

  Cramming the last of her peanut-butter toast into her mouth, she said “Whawa it aboush?”

  I reached up to flick the crumbs from the corner of her mouth, but dropped my hand as soon as I remembered the dream. Not that different from last night, same hand, same Melody… I shivered. “It was you and me on the couch at my house and we were, uh, I mean, you were…sleeping.” I paused, feeling that lurch in my gut again. “Anyways, I tried to wake you, but when I touched you, there was this black, stringy substance and the darkness closed in around us. And then there was the thing, the entity. And it whispered something.”

  “Whispered what?” She brushed her mouth with her hands, capturing the crumbs I had been tempted to brush away before.

  “I don't know. It’s not something I’ve ever heard of before. I think it said ‘Orla.’”

  “Weird.”

  No shit. I nodded.

  “Did you look it up on the Internet?”

  “What?”

  “That word…what was it? Orla?”

  “No, I don’t have time to look up every weird thing I dream. I just wanted to tell you, that’s all.”

  We suspended the conversation while in line at the coffee shop, as I had a strict “no weird stuff in public places” policy. But once we were out on the sidewalk again, drinks in hand, Melody changed subjects, much to my surprise.

  “So I was thinking about having a thing. Not a party, because that would imply that I want to impress people, but maybe a get-together.”

  “You mean with people besides you and me and Tara?” I laughed, because trying to get Melody out to parties had proven impossible thus far -- she kept saying that she wasn't a “people person.”

  “Yeah, I mean, sort of. G. is back in town, and I kind of feel like I owe it to him a little to introduce him around since we used to be buds and all. And it would be easier when he starts school if he knows a few people already.”

  Shit. Just G. looked like he might be competition. “So who were you thinking of inviting? I could ask Colton and Tyler from work. They'd probably come. Though to be honest, if you're not going to have alcohol, then you at least need to have girls there, or they won't stay.”

  “I was thinking Tara for sure, since she seemed to really like G. the other day.” She gave me a sidelong glance. “And maybe Shelby and Brittney? I haven't seen them since school let out.”

  I nodded, warming to the idea -- Tara did seem to smile an awful lot whenever Just G. had come to our table. “Cool. I'll bring the game deck and some games. Any preferences?”

  “I don't know, you know I only play MMORPGs...you pick.”

  I grinned at her. “Then you know I'll bring a bunch of First Person Shooters and all the guys will be gaming and the girls sitting off to the side.”

  She grinned back. “Not if you only bring two controllers.”

  And suddenly, we had arrived. I checked my watch. I wasn't late, but I was pushing it. I looked up to see Melody throw a hand out to steady herself on the column near the door, her eyes closed as if she felt faint. “You okay?”

  She shook her head as if to brush cobwebs from her hair. “That was really, really… weird
. Like intense.”

  “What was?”

  She opened her eyes and gave me a peculiar glance. “It was kind of like déjà vu only stronger. Like a lot stronger. My knees even went kind of weak.”

  “Maybe you should go to the doctor?”

  “Maybe,” she said doubtfully, shrugging.

  I shrugged back. “I have to go in or I’ll be late. See you later? If you want me to get a party tray or something from the deli, I can probably get Deola to give me a discount.”

  “That'd be cool!” She smiled, composure regained. “All grown-up and stuff instead of just pizza. I like it.”

  We stood there awkwardly for a moment before she waved and turned on her heel, and just like that I was standing outside the store by myself, grinning like an idiot. She wanted to invite Just G. for Tara.

  05. MELODY

  I didn’t know what to do about Sam. He obviously liked me, and maybe I might have been interested in him a little bit last fall, but now he just seemed so impossibly Sam. I liked our friendship the way it was, and making out (or whatever) was bound to ruin it. And then what? Then it would be just me and Tara, that’s what. And I had to admit, Sam was the one who made us fun. I wasn’t spontaneous enough to let loose like Tara, but she always had her head in the clouds. Sam brought her down to earth and brought me out of my shell. So having some sort of relationship with him was bound to screw things up.

  At least Tara wasn’t mooning over him anymore – she had a new guy lined up in her sights. I must have gotten thirty text messages from her last night alone trying to glean every little scrap of memory I had of G. from kindergarten. Good grief, the girl was obsessive, in a cute and fluttery kind of way, as if the Mad Hatter met Tinker Belle and they had a baby.

  I took another sip of my coffee and sighed in happiness. Dark chocolate notes with a hazelnut aftertaste; I loved the Mexican Chiapas beans they used at Smitty’s. My phone buzzed in my pocket, I didn’t even have to look, I knew who it was.