First thing I've written on my own in months, and I'm so happy for it.

Written for contests. Prompts were "Five Corners Road" for one, and a Seventh Sanctum prompt for the other; mine was "The theme of this story: dark transformation. The main characters: laid-back detective and contemplative Clerk. The start of the story: betrayal. The end of the story: surrender."

Enjoy. R&R? My inbox is looking rather bare as of late...

The fading sunlight fell brightly across Five Corners Road, casting the street into a purple and orange glow. From where I sat, water from the day’s rain sparkled and danced and lit up the scene as a teenager ran down the street. He caught my eye, drawing my attention from the building across the street where we were ever vigilant of any type of action.

The boy dropped to his knees halfway to the large marble wall at the end of Five Corners Road. I squinted to see if he was injured, to figure out why he had dropped.

“What’s going on?” my partner Izzy asked, coming up behind me. She pulled a chair beside mine and handed me a cup of coffee.

“Another wisher, probably,” I replied, blowing on the coffee.

“Oh, look.” Izzy pointed out the window.

The boy had gotten up and stumbled closer to the wall. Had I been anyone else, I would have thought he was drunk, the way he dropped to his knees again and began to yell at the wall. “Give me a gift!” he shouted, and I sighed. “Give me a gift, dammit!”

I sipped at my coffee and shook my head.

The next words the boy spoke were lost to the wind, too quiet to reach our window. He swayed once, then collapsed on the pavement.

“Shit,” I said, jumping up from my chair. Izzy and I ran through the building and down the stairs, and I hastily pulled on my red cloak before heading outside. No one from the other building had appeared yet – had they even seen?

I put the thought of contact out of my mind and rushed to the boy. After checking his pulse, I scooped him up and rushed as fast as I could back to the building. Izzy led me up the stairs and down the hall to an empty bedroom, where I laid the boy on the bed.

“Why do they have to be so damn desperate to be different?” I asked myself as I checked the boy’s pockets for I.D. Finding none, I sat on the bed and sighed. “And they always do it when we’re the only ones here.”

“You know it’s been months since the last one,” Izzy said. “Maybe this is good? At least we got him before they did.”

“Yeah.” I stood and unlatched my cloak, hanging it over my shoulder. “My coffee had better not be cold.”

We left the boy alone to sleep, myself not all that eager for him to awaken. If he was part of the Organization – a spy from across the street – he could get at all our secrets with Izzy and I being the only ones there, a plant to distract us while he gathered all the information he could.

When Izzy and I returned to the room the next day, I was hesitant. I could feel that the boy was awake, but my ability was not for reading minds.

“Let me go in first,” I said, pushing Izzy’s hand off the door handle.

“What are you so worried about, Andy?” Izzy asked, her tone frustrated. “You’ve been stalling all morning.”

“What if this isn’t just some malfunction on the Being’s part – “

Izzy looked half disgusted. “First you don’t trust the boy, and now you’re relating the Being to a machine? Andy, you – “

“That’s not what I meant, Iz.”

“He probably can’t do anything yet,” Izzy said reasonably. “And if he can, he probably won’t know how to do it.”

“Will you just let me go in first?” I looked into her brown eyes, begging for some sort of understanding. She took her hand off the door handle and I entered the room.

The boy looked at me as I moved closer. Something about his blue eyes was unnerving, possibly because they were similar in color to my own. He remained silent, most likely uneasier than I was.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, stopping beside the bed. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Eli Clerk,” he replied quietly. He laid stock still, barely blinking – absolutely mortified.

“How old are you?” I asked. I tried to soften my eyes and my expression, but I am not sure it helped.

“Sixteen,” Eli replied.

I sighed. So young. I sat on the edge of the bed and folded my hands in my lap. Izzy stood just off to my side, watching me. “I don’t know if you realize what you’ve done, Eli. Do your parents know you came out here?”

Eli shook his head. “When do I get a mark?”

My hand flew to my cheek, to the black mark just below my left eye. A swipe and three dots, same as Izzy’s, same as everyone else who lived in the building. Absently, I tried to wipe it away, knowing it would still be there afterwards. “It depends,” I told Eli. “I had mine when I was born, but Izzy’s didn’t appear until a few months after her birth. It could take days or weeks or months, especially since you didn’t get your gift naturally.”

“Is that all you came here for?” Izzy asked. The thought had not crossed my mind, but it seemed obvious now.

The boy looked away.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll keep you here for the next two days to make sure nothing goes wrong, and – ”

“Can’t you take me home now?” Eli said. He glared at me. “My dad’s going to be pissed enough as it is.”

“We can call him – ”

“No!” Eli sat bolt upright. “Take me home!”

“Damn it, child,” I yelled, standing. “You’re under our watch now. We can’t just let you go running around when we don’t know what you can do yet.”

“I can handle myself, thank you very much.” Eli crawled out of the bed and stood, swaying on his feet. I folded my arms and waited for the inevitable; soon, Eli worked his way back to the bed, rubbing his forehead.

Izzy stepped between the boy and I. “We’ll take you home, but we want to hear from you over the next three days. We’ll give you our number, and you can call us, or you can stop by.”

“Fine.” Eli rubbed his arms awkwardly. “Is there any way to make the mark show up sooner?” He and Izzy looked at me: Eli questioningly, Izzy unsure what to say.

“I can find a marker,” I said.

Eli smiled. “Seriously?”

I shrugged.

– – –

“I can read minds.” Eli’s excited voice seemed to dance as it came from the speakerphone that night. “At least, I think I can. I touch someone and it’s like, poof – there it is.”

“What kinds of things do you see?” I asked, resting my chin on my folded arms. Eli had called late, at nearly midnight. Izzy had gone to bed, leaving me to answer the phone.

“Just flashes mostly,” Eli replied. “But I think that if I touched the person longer, I could get more.”

“It’s not a matter of ‘getting’ anything, Eli.” I closed my eyes, my voice seeming to drone. “If you can read minds by touch, you need to be careful. You need to come back here to learn how to control it, because we can’t have you running around knowing everyone’s secrets.”

“Oh, come on, Andy,” he pleaded. “This is great! My dad? I can tell that he’s happy somewhere. Maybe I should read his mind?”

“Don’t, Eli.” I rubbed my eyes. “Let him have his privacy.”

“Why? He doesn’t let me have mine."

I stared at the speaker phone. “What do you mean?”

“Hold on.” I heard Eli descend a flight of stairs and close a door. He sighed and I heard him shiver. “My dad has wished all my life that I had a gift. Every day, he says something about it. Every day. I just thought that if I went to the wall and asked for a gift, I would get one and he would love me again.”

“Eli…” I rubbed my face, slowly falling asleep where I sat while I tried not to dredge up too many memories from my own childhood. “A mark on your face is your solution?”

“He hasn’t glared at me yet,” Eli replied.

“Then why did you go outside to tell me?”

“Because he’s still pissed that I was out all night.” Eli sighed. “Do you want me to go down there tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Come around noon and we’ll order pizza for you.”

“Okay.”

– – –

Izzy and I waited at the open end of Five Corners Road, both for Eli and the pizza guy. Dressed in our red cloaks, we were safe from those across the street. While we waited, one of the Organization passed, the grey hood of his grey cloak pulled over his head. As much as I wanted to say something to him, he was as protected by the fabric as I was. He spared not a glance at us and disappeared into his building.

“I can’t help feeling uncomfortable,” Izzy admitted, watching the figure.

“They’ll be back next week,” I replied. The other members of our group had been gone for a few days, leaving Izzy and I alone in the building. The hallways, usually bustling with people, seemed barren and empty without anyone to fill them. The game room and occasional all-night parties between members were quiet and sometimes unnerving.

I smiled to myself, recalling the bus full of pointed red heads as it disappeared down the street. Such a silly rivalry between our two buildings, constantly fighting to take in each new gifted one who came to our attention. Part of the government, but allowed to roam and do as we wished, more like animals in a zoo than human beings: Sure, we were allowed to do what we wished, but we had rules and regulations that sometimes bordered on the absurd and constricting.

If Eli was not careful, he would be stolen from us – or would that be our care, mine and Izzy’s? I did not know, and I did not want to think about it. He was the first unnaturally gifted one to come by in months, and certainly the boldest I had ever seen to simply walk up to the wall that we all worshipped and flat-out demand a gift.

Eli walked around the corner and waved at us. We moved our hoods farther back on our heads, but did not dare fully remove them.

As Eli approached, I handed him a spare cloak I had found in the closet. “Put that on,” I said, then patted the spot on the wall beside me.

“Do I get to keep it?” Eli asked as he pulled the hood over his head.

“Not yet,” Izzy replied. “Soon, though.”

“Cool.” He twirled across the sidewalk much the same way I had when I first got a cloak. The feeling of power had threatened to overwhelm me as I felt the fabric billow around me. Since then, I had learned that wearing the thing was tedious, every day outside, rain or shine, summer or winter. There were few places I could go without it, few places where there was not tension between the Organization and ourselves.

“Did your mark come in yet?” I asked. I would have been shocked if it had.

“Not yet. I drew it on again this morning.” He held the sides of his cloak like wings and ran around. “This is awesome.”

I smiled as Izzy laughed. “Glad you like it.”

“This is like, every little kid’s dream.”

I spotted the pizza car heading for the street and began toward it as it slowed. “And you’re sixteen and still enjoying it.” I paid for the pizza and carried it back to the building.

Half an hour later, we sat around the coffee table in the lounge, an empty box of pizza at one end of the table. Eli still wore the cloak, but Izzy and I had taken ours off.

“Andy tells me you can read minds?” Izzy said. She reached her hand across the table. “Give me your hand and tell me what you see.”

Eli obliged and settled into the sofa, his hand wrapped around hers. Somewhere, I was jealous, but I put it out of my mind.

“Oh,” Eli said accusingly. He smiled and closed his eyes, screwing up his face. “Isabelle Vilhjalmsson. What’s that, Norse?”

“Norwegian, actually,” Izzy said, laughing. “Spell it and you convince me.”

“Can’t do that. Sorry.” He knit his eyebrows then and let his breath out slowly, the smile falling from his face. Crying out, he released Izzy’s hand and clutched his head.

Izzy and I reacted simultaneously, rushing to his side. “Eli?” I placed a hand on his back as he rocked forward and back, his teeth bared as he continued to scream. I nodded to Izzy and she left for the infirmary. This was something neither of us had seen before, and I wished right then that I would never see it again.

Eli calmed down after a few minutes, but he still clutched at his head. His fingers dug so deeply into his hair that I feared he would pull out large clumps of it when he let go. He continued to rock, breathing quickly.

“What’s wrong, Eli?” I asked, rubbing his back.

“My head feels like it’s boiling,” he replied. He did not have room for frustration through the fog of his pain.

“Okay,” I said. “Izzy’s getting something for you. Just hold on.”

He shook beneath my hand, trembled so bad I thought he would fall apart. When Izzy returned with aspirin, he quickly gulped it down without the need of a drink. Izzy helped him lay back on the sofa and laid a cold washcloth across his forehead.

I motioned to Izzy to follow me to the hallway. “His body doesn’t like his gift,” I said when we were out of earshot. “Margaret knows so much more about this, but she’s away with the others.”

“Did he mention anything like this on the phone last night?” Izzy asked.

I shook my head. “He only touched people briefly then. You’re the first one he's had prolonged contact with.”

“Do you think it was something I did? I only let him see a little bit of my mind.”

“No,” I agreed. “It’s his body, his mind. It’s not used to this new ability.”

“Andy?” Eli called from the room.

I rushed to his side and knelt beside the sofa. “What is it?”

His eyes were closed, his voice quiet. “Don’t call my dad, okay?”

“I won’t.” I smoothed the washcloth on his head. “Do you want to go lay down in bed?”

He nodded and I helped him sit up. I saw the way his head spun and anticipated his loss of consciousness, catching him before he fell back on the sofa. Lifting him, I followed Izzy to the empty guestroom where Eli had slept the day before.

For the next few hours, Eli hovered somewhere between consciousness and sleep. A fever had broken out over his body, and he seemed to have vivid dreams at its peak. Izzy phoned Margaret, trying to figure out what to do, but she said she was no help unless she could see Eli, and there was no way for her to return for another three days at the least.

At around dinner, as quickly as it had come, the fever went away. Eli awoke, weak but pain free. “What happened?” he asked as Izzy patted his forehead with a wet rag.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Izzy said softly.

I approached and looked down at him. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” he replied. “Why did that happen?”

“We’re not sure exactly,” Izzy said. “But it’s a sign that your body is new to its gift. It might happen again, but we think you’ll start to get used to it after a while and soon the pain will stop.”

He smiled vaguely. “That’s a relief. Can I talk to Andy alone?”

“Sure,” Izzy said, smiling. “I’ll go find something for dinner.” She left, closing the door gently behind herself.

“Will that happen every time?” Eli asked as I sat where Izzy had been sitting.

I shook my head. “From what we’ve observed, it should only happen when you’re touching someone for an extended period of time. Izzy and I have been trying not to touch you skin-to-skin to keep from sending you into another fit.”

“What do you think my dad will say?”

“He doesn’t have to know.” I smiled. “And if he does and gets angry, it’s his fault, not yours. You’re the one going through all this to make him happy, so don’t worry about it. You don’t see him down here enhancing his life this way, now do you? You had a choice, and you made it for him. Don’t forget that.”

“I guess.” He looked toward the window, its shade pulled down to block the sunset.

“We’ll see how you feel in an hour,” I said. “Then we’ll take you home.”

“Can I just stay here tonight?” he asked.

“If you want to.”

– – –

“Hey, Andy?” Eli asked as we sat awake in his room later that night.

“Yeah?” I replied. Izzy had gone to bed, and we should have been in bed as well, but both Eli and I were wired. We sat against the wall in the corner of his room, picking at the seams in our jeans.

“Why are you guys fighting with the Organization?”

I looked up at him. His hair – usually spiked – had begun to fall loosely around his face, making him look younger than he was.

“I don’t think any of us really know,” I explained. “It’s been lost to time, I guess.”

“Then why not just stop?”

I smiled. “Don’t get all political on me now.”

“I can go political on your ass if I want,” Eli said.

“Oh, really?” I laughed. “Seriously, though. We don’t stop because we would need someone to blame. Either us or them, and you can figure out who each side will pick.”

“But why?” he pressed. “It’s not like anyone’s died.”

“Not here, maybe. The others went to another building elsewhere in the country to help them there. I don’t know the exact details of what happened, but I know someone died.”

“Why would there be unrest elsewhere? Your sacred wall is here.”

I shrugged, moving from my jeans to a loose thread in the rug. “Maybe everyone’s afraid of the Being?”

“You guys came from the same place – why fight?”

“Islam, Christianity, and Judaism all came from basically the same place, and look at them.” I sighed before continuing: “If there was a way for one person to step up and change it all, I would be first in line, believe me. I’m tired of watching families and friendships torn apart by this stupid conflict. This country is not supposed to be at war anymore, but the conflict between the Organization and ourselves is heating up really quickly.”

Eli had stopped picking at his jeans and watched me instead, his arms folded across his knees. “Are you scared?”

I looked at him and grinned. “What kind of question’s that?”

He shrugged. “Are you?”

“It depends what day you ask me.” I held my finger up, guessing his next question. “Today, I’m not scared, because it’s not the biggest thing on my mind. That might be different tomorrow, though.”

“Hmm.” He looked away, then changed the subject: “You’re still fairly young, right? Where’s your family right now?”

“My mom died when I was seven,” I said. “She’d been sick for a while, though. I haven’t seen my father in years.”

“Why not?”

“What is this, bonding time?” I smiled.

“Might as well be.”

I looked at the carpet again. “I ran away when I was your age. Had enough of his crap, so I just left. Haven’t gone back since. I don’t even know where he is – I doubt he’d still live in the city after nine years.” I shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve got a home here. I’ve got friends here, people who care for me. That’s all I need.”

He watched me. “No siblings?”

“Nope.” I shook my head.

“Me, either. You’re starting to look like a good older brother, though.”

“Can’t say how good of an influence I’ll be.” I paused, regarding Eli. “You should get some sleep.”

“I said ‘brother,’ not ‘mother.’” He laughed, but yawned directly afterwards. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe I am.” I stood and brushed off my backside. “Good night, Eli.”

“G’night.”

– – –

Eli did not return to the building for three days after we took him home that morning. Izzy voiced her concern over this during breakfast.

“He’s probably fine,” I told her. “Probably just busy with school work and such.”

“Oh no.” Her tone was grave. “A gift like that in a school setting? Are you sure we should have let him go?”

“He knows his limits now, Iz.” I sipped my coffee. “It’s been three days. Maybe he’ll stop by tonight?”

I was right. Just after dinner that night, he showed up at the door, something of a hidden expression on his face. I was concerned immediately, but I could tell Eli did not want to talk about whatever it was in front of Izzy. I would have to fill her in later, like I had most of the other things Eli had told me. I shared some confidence with Eli, but there were some things Izzy needed to know.

“I ran away,” he said as I slid the glass door closed. We stood on the back patio, which led onto a green lawn that needed mowed badly.

I whirled on him. “You what?”

“I did it,” he said, smiling. “I ran away from home. Just like you.”

“Why did you do that?” I tried my best not to yell, but I heard my frustration in my voice.

Eli dropped his eyes. “I couldn’t stand living there anymore. My dad just doesn’t care.”

“I thought you two were doing well.” I led him to the metal garden bench, and we sat. “Eli, running away was one of the biggest decisions of my life. Sometimes I wonder if it was right.”

“You said yourself, you have a home here where people love you. Why can’t I have the same thing?”

“You’re sixteen, Eli.”

“So were you.” He glared at me, his point as obvious as his blue eyes.

I shook my head slowly, staring at my sneakers. “I want you to take a few days to think about this,” I told him.

“I have. I spent the past three days thinking about it, ever since you told me you ran away.” He looked at me. “I thought you would be happy.”

“If you think it’s the right thing, I have no business telling you otherwise.” I regarded him carefully. “Did you draw your mark on recently?” I asked, noticing how dark it was.

“No,” he replied. “Why?”

“Hang on.” I stood and went to the sink where our gardener drew water and wetted a clean towel I found there, then returned to Eli.

“Are you sure you want to touch me?” he asked, withdrawing slightly.

“I can put up barriers,” I replied. “Something they teach us here so people like you don’t get into our heads.”

“Ah.” He let me start to carefully rub away any leftover ink from the mark below his eye. Suddenly, he jerked away from me, his eyes wide.

“What?” I asked, worried I had hurt him.

“You love her.”

“What?” I smiled, hoping he had not seen what I thought he had seen.

“Izzy,” he said. “You love her.”

“That’s absurd. Come here.” I worked to put the blocks up in my mind. Damn him for seeing that. Dinner with Izzy had weakened my mind considerably, distressing me to the point where my barriers were weak.

Eli was quiet as I continued to wipe his eye. The ink smudged across his cheek, something I realized I would have to clean up later.

“Why don’t you tell her?” he said at last.

I paused. “Things would be awkward between us,” I explained; “Messy.”

“Oh.” He tried to catch my eye as I cleaned the last smear off his skin. “You should tell her.”

I sat back and looked at him, admiring the solid black mark beneath his eye. “No, I shouldn’t.”

“I’d tell you how she feels, but she puts up better blocks than you.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes. “Your mark came in.”

“Did it really?” He rushed to the dirty, decorative mirror above the sink. “Sweet.”

“You gonna go back to your dad now?”

He shook his head.

– – –

Eli had decided to leave me alone with Izzy that night. I sat in the lounge – Izzy paced around the room on the phone with Margaret. Apparently, Margaret was catching a ride back the next day to see Eli, which sent Izzy into a frenzy of worries that Margaret would become too overbearing, although she never voiced any of this aloud.

Izzy finally hung up and sat beside me on the sofa. “She’s so annoying.”

“I prefer ‘insufferable,’” I replied.

She leaned forward and put the phone on the coffee table, then leaned back again, resting her head on the cushion. Closing her eyes, she breathed slowly to calm herself down.

I watched her, waiting to see her body relax as the stress left her body. She had always been good at stress relief, both for herself and those around her. Too bad she could not relieve my stress that night.

Nervously, I shifted to face her a bit more, getting no reaction from her. I cleared my throat to get my nerves, then said, “I love you, Izzy.”

She sat bold-upright, staring at me. Suddenly, she lashed out and slapped me across the face before standing and leaving the room. I touched my face where she had hit, but my whole body seemed to sting.

Silently, I cursed Eli.

– – –

“Andy!” Eli’s voice drifted down the hall into my room later that night. “Andy!” Something about the way he yelled my name put me on alert as I bolted from bed – were I had laid fully-clothed for almost three hours – and down the hallway. Izzy came out of her room and followed me, but we did not speak.

As we neared Eli’s room, I heard what must have awakened him: Various loud noises drifted through the windows – sounds of yelling and the firing of play guns among other various noises that should not have been around that late at night.

Izzy veered off to get our cloaks, in case whatever was going on outside threatened us inside. I burst into Eli’s room, where flashing lights met my eyes. Eli had prostrated himself on the floor, his head covered.

I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled to him, pulling him around the bed to the wall we had sat against the last time he had stayed overnight. Izzy returned seconds later with out cloaks, and we pulled them on, huddled in the corner for fear of being seen.

“They know we’re in here,” I said to Izzy. Eli rested his head against my shoulder, trembling like he had when his head had pounded before.

“It’s not anything we need to be worried about tonight,” Izzy replied. “They’re just making noise.”

“What do you mean, ‘tonight?’” Eli asked, looking at her.

“They do this a lot,” I said, looking into Izzy’s eyes so she knew I was trying not to frighten Eli any more than he already was. “It’s usually just harmless fun, meant to annoy us. But sometimes, they break our windows and whatnot.” The Organization’s riots were usually just the opposite of my explanation, more violent than harmless. Eli did not need to know that. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and held him close, hoping the noise would stop soon so he could rest.

I could not look at Izzy again, and she did not look at me. We sat there for almost two hours before the noise finally died down completely, but Eli had fallen asleep nearly an hour previous, his head wrapped in the hood of his cloak to try to keep the noise away.

I stayed the night with him there.

– – –

I drove Eli to school the next morning. He was wary of the build across the street, and of the remnants of their party that still riddled the gutters.

“Have they ever hurt any of you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “They usually party so late that we’re all in bed already. We don’t bother them when they do it. It’s better to ignore it. If they break a window, there’s no one down there to be hurt.”

He rested his head against the window. “It needs to stop.”

“I’m sorry to say this, but don’t count on it.”

“What do you think it would take?”

I shrugged. “Something that affects both buildings, I suppose. Something with no way of determining the culprit, or a culprit outside both of our groups. It doesn’t necessarily have to affect any of the other buildings in other cities, though – just the two here. All it takes is one person to start a revolution, one event to set everything in motion.”

He made an affirming noise so I knew he had heard.

“I told Izzy last night,” I told him in order to lighten the mood.

“What’d she say?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “But she slapped me.”

He broke out laughing, his stress coming out in fits that took us nearly to the school. After I dropped him off, I returned to the building, where I paced in my room, unable to decide what to do. Margaret was supposed to arrive sometime that afternoon, but when exactly was up in the air.

Izzy sat in the garden all day, knowing it was the one place I would never go alone. On my way to get lunch, I leaned against the glass door for a few minutes, debating whether or not to defy logic and go to her.

Around mid-afternoon, I pulled on my sweatshirt – a garment that I always hid behind and found comfort in – and headed for Izzy’s room. Even though it was right next door to my own, it took me fifteen minutes to get up the nerve to knock.

“Yeah?” Izzy said.

I opened the door and she looked at me. She stood in front of her mirror, dressed in nothing but her bathrobe. “Good God,” I said, averting my gaze. “Sorry. I’ll come back.”

“No, Andy,” she said. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me in my robe before.”

“Okay.” I closed the door behind myself and leaned against it. “Listen, Iz. About last night…It was Eli’s idea to tell you. I never would have done it otherwise.”

She began to brush her hair, preparing for a shower. She said nothing to me.

“I didn’t exactly come out and tell him, you know,” I went on, rambling now. “After dinner last night, I couldn’t get my barricades up when I touched him.”

“After you spilled juice all over your pants?” She smiled, and I smiled in return.

“Yeah,” I said. “After that.” I watched her in silence for a couple of minutes, until a knock at the door caused me to jump.

“Isabelle?” said a rough female voice. “It’s Margaret. Are you decent?”

Izzy’s eyes widened and she looked at me, then motioned for the bathroom. I rushed to the small room and climbed into the shower, pulling the curtain to conceal myself. I figured it would be less suspicious if the door remained open. All Izzy and I needed was to be caught together by Margaret.

“Hi, Margaret,” Izzy said in the main room. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“Traffic was good today,” Margaret said. “Should I come back later?” I peaked through the curtain and saw her motion to Izzy.

“No, no,” Izzy said. “It’s fine.”

“Okay. I won’t be but a minute. I just need to see your new boy’s file.”

Izzy moved to the other side of the room, out of sight. “It’s just over here somewhere.”

“I’ll turn the water on for you to warm it up,” Margaret said, then began toward the bathroom. I moved as far back from the door as I could before she got there. If I moved any more, she would hear me – we could never trust her ears. Besides, I was frozen where I stood.

I watched her hand snake its way through the crack between the curtain and the wall. Her bony fingers wrapped around the single faucet and turned, spraying me with a blast of cold water. I held in a gasp as it seeped through my clothes.

“Here it is,” I heard Izzy say. I had no way of knowing where Margaret was, so I stayed still.

“Thank you, dear,” Margaret replied. “Why don’t you get your shower started? I’m going to take a quick looksie before heading to the office.”

“Okay,” Izzy said. She came into the bathroom and closed the door, not daring to go against Margaret’s suggestion. “Take your time.” I knew that both she and I wished Margaret would go back from whence she came, but neither of us seemed to be that lucky.

I looked at the ceiling and closed my eyes as Izzy pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. I had expected her to stay outside, but if Margaret peeked her head in the door, we needed to be safe.

“Sorry, Andy,” she whispered, laughing softly.

“My socks are wet.” All I could think of to say, my dumbass self.

Izzy giggled again and stepped closer to me. She rested her head on my shoulder, and her arm pressed into my chest as she covered herself. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

Hesitantly, I put my hands on her back, unsure how she would react. Outside, Margaret muttered incoherent things meant for no one but herself, but her words sank into me like the incessant buzzing of a fly.

I lifted Izzy’s face to mine and kissed her, my fingers moving to her hair as water leaked down my face and arms and back and chest.

And she kissed me back.

– – –

I did not need Eli to tell me how Izzy felt, how she would react to me. I just needed her in my arms, in my soul, and she would do the rest. Margaret had taken nearly ten minutes to review the file before leaving, but then Izzy and I had free reign of the room. I was satisfied to be rid of Margaret for the afternoon, but Margaret was not satisfied to be rid of Izzy.

Without knocking, she came through the door, most likely expecting Izzy to still be in the shower, or at least the bathroom. What she found instead was Izzy and I laying in bed together, eyes closed and peaceful.

“Good Heavens,” Margaret said, and Izzy and I jumped.

“Margaret,” Izzy said, holding the blanket to her chest as she sat up. Her face was as red as I had ever seen it. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Margaret stared at us for a few moments, then said, “Your boy – Eli? – is downstairs. He wants to see you.” She nodded at me. “To think I was going to ask Izzy where you were.”

“You found me,” I said, wishing I could crawl under the cover and die. If Margaret knew, the whole building would know once she was through ranting about interpersonal relationships between members.

“Thanks, Margaret,” Izzy said, and Margaret left.

Once I got clean, dry clothes from my room, I went downstairs to talk to Eli. Izzy stayed in her room to finish the shower she had never started.

Eli looked up from his fingers as I entered the room. “Why are you glowing?” he asked.

“No reason,” I replied, sitting beside him on the sofa. “Did you meet Margaret?”

“She’s a pleasant lady,” Eli answered sarcastically.

“Is there something you need?”

He reached into his pocket and handed me a sealed envelope. “This is for you,” he said. “You’ll know when to open it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, examining the envelope.

“I can’t stay long,” he said, then reached out and embraced me.

“Eli, what…?”

He stood and pulled his jacket on. “Gotta go. Homework to do.” With that, he left.

I stared after him, the envelope in my hands. Something did not feel right, but I could not place what it was. I looked at the envelope and turned it over, running my thumb over the edge of the flap.

“Eli!” I called after him, leaving the envelope on the sofa as I followed him. By the time I got outside, he had already climbed into a taxi and gone.

– – –

Eli’s plan went into effect at approximately six-thirty that evening. Izzy and I sat at an outdoor café about a block from the building. Margaret had gone somewhere else for dinner. My cell phone rang, a number I did not recognize.

“Hello?” I said.

“Andrew?” A male voice, husky.

“Yeah.” I gave Izzy a confused look. “Who is this?”

“You look so good in red,” said the man. “Much better than grey.”

I stood and looked around. Someone in the plaza was watching me, was speaking to me. “Tell me who this is.” I rushed to the center of the plaza, spinning as I searched the faces for the one I spoke to. My cloak twirled around my ankles as Izzy came to my side.

My eyes stopped on one face, staring straight back at me. My own eyes, my own face – my father, staring at me with a phone to his ear.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, an edge in my voice.

“I want to apologize, Andrew,” he said, his voice absolutely sincere. “I’ve waited too long to tell you that.”

“How did you find me?”

“Your friend called me,” he explained. “Told me you would be here.”

Eli had touched me when my walls were down, when we had cowered in the corner, when he had given me the envelope. Of course he could have found out about my plans, could have known my father’s name and found him from there. He could have heard the loss in my voice as I spoke of my father, the way I missed him.

He could have figured it out.

“He gave me a choice,” my father continued, “to come or not. Now I’m giving you yours.”

I stared at him, then hung up my phone.

“Who is that?” Izzy asked.

“My father,” I replied, then took off running across the plaza toward him. I nearly knocked him over as I embraced him, so many things I had to tell him and show him – and he probably had the same in store for me. The first sixteen years of my life seemed to become a distant memory in his arms, now that I was at home there.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the plaza. Izzy ran to me as I released my father. We looked around for the source of the explosion, our eyes stopping in the direction of our building, where a cloud of smoke lifted into the air.

“Eli,” I whispered, the pieces finally falling into place. I yelled his name and began running toward the smoke, pushing my way through a crowd of people that couldn’t seem to decide which way they wanted to go. When I reached the street, I wanted to turn around and go back to my father’s arms, to go even further back and keep Eli safe in the building.

I reached into my back pocket, my hands trembling. I heard none of the sounds around me, none of the screaming or crying, or the car alarms and bits of rubble falling to the ground. In the center of the street was a black burn mark and the charred remains of a person.

Hastily, I opened Eli’s letter to read what he had written: I’ve done what I could. The rest is up to you. Don't be upset – this is our revolution. Izzy caught up to me and read the letter over my shoulder, then buried her face in my shoulder and cried.

“Damn you, Eli,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around Izzy. “You were too young.” So young.

I closed my eyes and embraced Izzy even more tightly, blocking out the sights and sounds of a bomb, of the dust slowly falling to the concrete that made up Five Corners Road.