Hurricane Lamps - 2. Chapter 2

Several days later, Tony sat on the air mattress, playing his guitar. Their hideout was pretty much a done deal at that point. The air mattress took up most of the room. An ancient folding table held the hurricane lamps, a radio, a deck of cards, and whatever else they happened to need. That stupid wasp nest sat underneath it.

This was the first time Tony had come out here without Elijah, but he had needed to get away from his sisters for a few hours, and Elijah hadn’t answered the phone when he called. He would have stopped by except that he wasn’t really allowed.

He hoped Elijah wasn't mad at him. The incident with the bird still haunted his mind. He could understand where Elijah was coming from...sometimes animals needed to be killed so they wouldn't suffer. It sometimes happened to racehorses that had broken their legs in a race. It was called euthanasia, which was just a fancy word for killing something that was hurt.

But he still thought they could have found some way to help that bird.

Tony wished Elijah hadn't killed it.

Tony leaned back against the brightly painted wall, playing whatever came to mind. He had recently taught himself how to play the MacGyver theme song and he ran through that, wanting to make sure he had it right. His mother had loved that stupid show, and he wanted to surprise her one day soon by playing it for her. He had just finished up when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Elijah standing in the doorway holding a Food Lion bag in one hand.

“Hey,” Tony said.

“Was that the MacGyver theme?” Elijah asked.

“Yeah, so?” Tony asked, blushing.

“That’s pretty cool. Do you do the Inspector Gadget theme song, too?”

Tony stared at him. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether or not Elijah was joking. Instead of answering, he put his guitar back into its case, closing it and latching it securely. “What have you got?” Tony asked.

“Porn,” Elijah responded proudly.

“Bullshit!”

“Honest to God,” Elijah said, tossing him the bag. Tony peeked inside, then dumped the contents out onto the mattress. Indeed, it was porn. Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler.

“Holy shit, how did you get these?” Tony asked, flabbergasted.

Elijah turned bright red, even his ears. “Eli, you didn’t steal these, did you?”

“No,” Elijah mumbled. “Well...swear you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise,” Tony said, looking down at the magazines again. The model on the cover of Penthouse was staring up at him, clad in a pair of barely there panties, her arms covering her bare breasts.

“John bought them for me.”

“Your uncle bought you these?”

“Kinda yeah. I was with him at the store earlier, and I was kinda looking at them and he caught me. He said, 'Like what you see there kid?' And I just shrugged and said 'Whatever'. And he laughed and said boys will be boys and bought a couple of them. Then once we were in the car on the way back home, he gave me the bag with the magazines in them and told me to go off somewhere and have some fun, so...” Elijah shrugged. “Whatever. I wasn’t going to not take them or anything.”

“Wow,” Tony said. He tried to act like it was really cool, but in actuality, he thought it was a little bit creepy. He tried to picture one of his parents buying a magazine like that for him and couldn’t do it.

Curiosity pulled at him, and even though he felt a little embarrassed, he picked up the copy of Penthouse and opened it up. His eyes went wide at the first image. He knew what to expect, but he thought there might be some teasing pictures first, instead of the full-blown nudity. Not that he was complaining--wow. Look at her.

He could feel the heat radiating from his face and knew he had to be blushing like crazy.

“You’re not going to be weird about this are you?” Elijah asked.

“No,” Tony said quietly.

"Well, you can have them if you want," Elijah said. Tony glanced over at him, surprised.

"You don't want them?"

Elijah reddened and shook his head. "No. I've already looked at them."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Elijah said. "Play that MacGyver song again."

 

A few days later, after the porn had been studied with interest and then carefully hidden, Tony had called Elijah and asked to meet up. Ridiculous as it was, he had actually looked around online and had figured out how to play the Inspector Gadget theme song and thought Elijah would get a kick out of it. Elijah had been strangely introspective and more moody than usual as the end of summer grew nearer, which was weird for him. Normally Elijah was cheerful about returning to school. Tony wasn’t sure why...Elijah didn’t have a whole lot of friends, his grades were mediocre, and he wasn’t dating anyone. Maybe it was the sports.

Elijah had promised him that he would be there in ten minutes on the phone, and when Tony arrived he was surprised that Elijah wasn’t already there waiting for him. He shrugged it off and started tuning his guitar.

After a few more minutes, Tony got annoyed. He had called Elijah and Elijah had told him ten minutes, and here it was, going on twenty and Elijah wasn’t here. Where was he? Blowing him off?

Tony repacked his guitar in its case. Something about this didn’t feel right. It wasn’t uncommon for Elijah to be a few minutes late, but this...he didn’t like this. He didn’t know why, it just felt...wrong. Very wrong.

He would just have to go to Elijah’s place and see what was up. He would be breaking the rules and directly disobeying his mother. But his mother didn’t understand how wrong this situation felt, how the conspicuous absence of Elijah in this place, their special place, was gnawing at his bones.

And besides, when you came right down to it, it was a dumb rule. Elijah came over to their place all the time, why couldn’t he go to Elijah’s every once in a while (despite the fact that Elijah had never once invited him)? And there was really no good reason for him not to go see Elijah at his house. There was nothing to be worried about. Elijah’s uncle was probably totally harmless, because if he was dangerous and Tony’s mother knew he was dangerous, she would have done something. Called social services or something, but she wouldn’t stand by, do nothing and let Elijah live alone with a man that was dangerous or who would hurt him. Of course not, she wouldn’t. Not his best friend with all his bruises and cuts and scrapes and shitty excuses that explained nothing. It was probably just another dumb rule his mom made up to keep him from having fun. God knew she had enough of them.

Besides, what if something had happened to Elijah and his uncle was gone somewhere and Elijah was lying there, hurt and alone and needing help? There were exceptions to every rule, right?

And things felt so wrong, so very wrong right now.

All of his worries and rationalizations took his feet through the fields and to Elijah’s door.

He raised his hand to knock, then paused. The door was slightly open already, and there was a small overturned Thermos by his feet, leaking grape Kool-Aid. Tony moved to right it and saw the purple and green colors of their school’s hockey team. It was Elijah’s. Tony could remember seeing Elijah drink from it when they took breaks for lunch.

Tony felt vaguely sick from the way his nerves were jumping and a bit scared. Whatever was going on was a whole lot more than what he wanted to be dealing with at the moment and the feeling of wrongness hadn’t gone away at all...if anything it had intensified.

He pushed the door open a little further and quietly stepped inside. He wasn’t sure what to expect from his first glance inside Elijah’s house, but he was a little surprised at how perfectly normal it looked. There was a couch and a recliner, a television, and a coffee table. A stereo system sat on a shelf. The air smelled like tobacco, but that was okay, Elijah had told him that his uncle was a smoker. From his vantage point he could see into part of the kitchen, which held a table with a tablecloth printed with cheerful oranges and pears and a refrigerator with several small magnets. Average. Normal.

Tony let out a nervous breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding, feeling relieved. What had he been expecting, something from the Addam’s family? He almost felt like laughing at himself, his muscles unwinding, becoming loose and relaxed.

He took another step inside, taking care to wipe his feet off on the welcome mat. He was about to call out for Elijah when he heard a shout, high-pitched like someone who was scared or angry, from the back. Elijah.

The sense of wrongness returned with the force of a tidal wave, crashing over Tony so hard it left him breathless and dizzy as he raced towards the back. He approached an open doorway, coming to a sudden halt when his eyes caught the scene inside.

Elijah was sprawled on his back over the bed, his T-shirt bunched up under his armpits, his hair disheveled, and his face white and scared. Looming over him like a gigantic spider was Elijah’s uncle John, holding Elijah’s hands down against the mattress.

Elijah was struggling to get out from underneath him, spitting venomous names like ‘pervert’ and ‘creep’. Tony watched in a kind of stunned horror as John lifted a meaty hand and struck Elijah across his face.

“Hey!” Tony shouted. Moving purely on instinct, he grabbed the first thing he could find, one of Elijah’s boots, and threw it at Elijah's uncle. It missed him by a mile, hitting the wall with a thump. Elijah's uncle turned to look at Tony...and smiled. In that smile, Tony saw every single reason that his mom had told him never to come over here. Just like she had told him never to accept rides from strangers, especially those that offered him candy. To never go off with someone he didn’t know, no matter how nice they seemed, and to let her know if anyone said or did anything that made him uncomfortable. All those reasons were suddenly reflected in that sweaty face and leering grin.

Elijah used the split second of distraction to his highest advantage, bringing up both his knees as hard as he could, catching his uncle right in the crotch.

John went down with a cry of pain, cupping his injured parts with his hands, and Elijah climbed off the bed, jumping to his feet and grabbing Tony’s hand before literally pulling him out of the room and through the house. They could hear Elijah's uncle lumbering to his feet as they passed through the front door and both started running harder, faster. Tony’s heart was doing a mad dance inside his chest, and he foolishly wondered if anyone had ever suffered a heart attack at thirteen.

They hit the fields and when Tony glanced over his shoulder, he could see John coming out of the house, looking at them as they ducked into the rows of crops. And they ran, desperation lengthening their stride, dashing amongst the long stalks of corn until Tony was absolutely lost. But Elijah sure seemed to know where he was going, weaving through the rows with a sureness born of familiarity. Finally, Elijah felt they were far enough away, and pulled them both to the ground, listening to the far off voice of Elijah's uncle still screaming at them. Elijah was lying on top of Tony, heart beating fast like a bird's against Tony's as they waited and prayed to not ever be found.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, everything died away, even John’s shouting. Elijah got to his feet, took a deep breath and walked away with fast, short steps. Tony got up and followed him to the shack.

“What the hell was that?” Elijah asked as soon as they got inside. “What did you think you were doing?”

“Looking for you,” Tony answered, still reeling a bit from the events of that afternoon. “When you didn’t show up, I got worried.”

“Moretti, you stupid fuck!” Elijah shouted, wrapping his arms around himself, looking very young in his shorts and T-shirt. “You know you’re not supposed to come to my house!”

Tony’s mouth dropped open. “How did you—”

”I heard you and your mom arguing about it one morning after I had stayed the night. That’s why I never invited you over. Not that I would have in the first place, but still...” Elijah sniffed. “God, Tony, don’t ever do that again. Do you have any idea what could have happened?”

“The same something that was about to happen to you?” Tony countered. “Christ, Elijah, what would have happened if--”

“I can take care of myself!” Elijah screamed. “I don’t need your help!”

“You need someone’s help!” Tony shouted back, not willing to back down, not now that his deepest fears were proven true. “You can’t go back there.”

Elijah turned away, went to the other side of the shack, but considering its size, wasn’t able to go very far. “Look, what you saw is...things aren’t usually like that, okay? They’re not. It was...I just pissed him off is all.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do. It doesn’t make it okay for him to hit you.” But it wasn’t hitting Elijah that Tony was thinking about. It was the fact that Elijah had been pinned down by his uncle, on the bed, in the process of having his shirt removed. Tony knew he had lived a pretty sheltered life, but he sure as hell wasn’t born yesterday, either. “Shit, Eli, let me--”

“Just...don’t, okay?” Elijah’s voice cracked and when Tony looked at his face, he saw it crumbling and grimacing under the force of his tears.

“Eli—” Tony said, feeling lost. He had seen Elijah in a thousand different moods but never this helpless despair and desperation. He had never seen his best friend break down this way.

He didn’t know what to say and so he didn’t say anything, just sat down next to Elijah and held his best friend as he sobbed, feeling his hot skin through the thin cotton of his T-shirt and running his fingers through his hair the way his mom used to do to comfort him when he was upset. He wished there was something he could do to make all this go away. Something to make everything better, to make everything perfect, the way it used to be.

* * *

“Here,” Tony said, re-entering the shack with some sheets bundled up in his arms.

“Thanks,” Elijah replied, arranging the sheets on the air mattress.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay out here?”

“Yeah,” Elijah said, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the corner. “The nights are still pretty warm. I’ll go back tomorrow when Uncle John has cooled off a little. He’ll feel so bad about what he did that he’ll leave me alone for a little bit at least.”

Now that the fact that Elijah’s uncle liked to smack him around was out in the open, Elijah seemed to regard it with the same carelessness that he regarded everything else with.

“Check this out,” Elijah said, taking one of the hurricane lamps down and lifting up the chimney. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket, a silver Zippo, and flipped it open, then lit the wick of the lamp. The wick flared to life and started burning, producing a dim glow. Elijah replaced the chimney carefully, then sat back. “Cool, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tony sat down next to him, watching the flame lick and dance on the wick. “Cool lighter, where did you get it?”

“It’s my Dad's. You wanna see?”

“Sure.”

Elijah handed it over and Tony turned it in his hands. It was heavy, silver, and had the letters MC engraved on it. Michael Carter, Elijah’s father. Tony opened it up, ignited it, and watched the flame for a few seconds before he flipped it back shut.

“Awesome,” he said quietly, handing it back to Elijah.

“Thanks. My uncle took it. That’s what...that’s what started the thing today. He took it and I told him not to. I didn’t want him using it because it belonged to my dad. And that lighter is special to me; I carry it around with me all the time, even at school where we’re not supposed to. And when I told my uncle not to use it, he told me that everything in the house belonged to him, me included, and that he would use them any way he chose. And I argued back and it just kind of escalated from there. He said...well, he said some bad stuff, and I tried to run for it and he grabbed me, pulled me back inside. You showed up a few minutes later.”

“Are you going to be safe out here?” Tony asked.

“Oh yeah. My uncle never comes all the way out here. I doubt he knows that this place even exists. No, he’ll be drunk asleep in his La-Z-Boy by now.”

“Elijah. Why can’t you just tell somebody?”

“Because. I can handle this. It’s my problem, Moretti, let me deal with it.”

“Eli--”

“I mean it. I’ll deal with it, don’t worry. And you promised not to tell; you swore it, remember?”

Tony remembered. He had promised when Elijah had been sobbing against him. He hadn’t wanted to, but it had been hard not to when Elijah had begged him in that watery voice with his nose running and tears all over his face. He was beginning to regret it now, because he really wanted to tell somebody, somebody who had some idea of how to deal with this shit, because he sure as hell had no idea. “Are you sure you’ll be okay out here all by yourself?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Elijah said, grinning at him in the low light of the lamp. “It’s not the first time I’ve spent the night out here. How do you think I came up with the idea of fixing this shack up in the first place? It’s a whole lot nicer to spend time here now. With it cleaned up and painted and shit.”

“Listen, Elijah, if you need anything...”

Elijah gave him a speculative look. “Let me ask you something, Tony. If I needed you to do something for me, and it was really important but would involve doing something that was wrong...would you still do it?”

“Well...it would depend on how wrong the thing that you asked me to do was. I wouldn’t, like, kill someone or anything like that.”

“Would you lie?” Elijah asked. “To keep me out of trouble?”

“Well sure,” Tony said, grinning. “Hell, I do that for my sisters all the time.”

“Not like that. A big lie. An important lie. Would you do that for me?”

Tony watched him, Elijah’s face dark and mysterious in the flickering light of the lamp. “Sure thing, Eli. If it’s that important, of course I would lie for you. If it means that much to you.”

“I would hate to have to ask you.”

“No problem. You would do the same thing for me, right?”

“Sure thing, Moretti. I would do anything for you,” Elijah said sleepily and turned over onto his side, falling silent.

“All right. I’m heading home before my mom freaks. If you need anything...”

“I’ve got my cell on me. Don’t worry.”

Easier said than done. Tony thought.

 

Tony didn’t sleep well, thinking of Elijah out there alone in the dubious shelter of their hideout all night long. In the morning, he got up, grabbed some cereal bars, and headed out. Elijah was lying in the midst of the sheets, snoring soundly. Tony tickled his nose with a branch until he woke up, and gave him a cereal bar. Elijah gave him a sleepy 'thank you' in return and took it, unwrapping and eating it in record time.

Things returned to an almost normal status. Elijah went back home that evening, even though it made Tony sick to think about it. Tony was also cold and standoffish towards his mom, who acted confused and hurt. But he couldn’t stand knowing that she knew, she had to have known, about Elijah and his uncle and did nothing. Elijah was his best friend and she wasn’t doing anything. If she would just get off her ass and do something about it, then he could help Elijah without breaking his promise.

Tony kept a close eye on Elijah, who was not showcasing any new bruises. After a few days, the terrifying memory of that day seemed distant and hazy in Tony’s mind, almost like it had happened to someone else and not him. But he still couldn’t forget it, nor let go of that little seed of worry that rested cold in his stomach whenever he knew Elijah was at that house.

One evening, Tony was sitting on his bed, reading a book when he heard a tap at the window. He glanced over for a second, then returned his attention to his book. Another two taps sounded in rapid succession. Tony put the book down and went to his window. If he saw the ghost of the slave with only one foot he was going to pass out.

At first he saw only his own reflection, then Elijah, grinning at him from the branches of the tree outside his window. Tony quickly unlocked and opened his window, letting Elijah climb inside.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” Tony said.

“Hell yeah, that’s why you love me, right?” Elijah said. Despite the hot night, Elijah was shivering, his teeth chattering. He smelled strange too, Tony noted, like smoke or ash, something hot and charred.

“Eli, are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Elijah said, too quickly and too casually for Tony to believe him.

Tony went to close the window. He could hear the distant wail of sirens getting closer, and he felt that same tingle in his stomach that he felt the time he was waiting for Elijah to show up at the shack that day...that sense of wrongness.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need a place to stay the night. Just for tonight. Okay, Tony? Please?”

“Oh God, what happened?”

“Nothing. Not like you’re thinking. Nothing happened, I just...needed to be away for a while.”

“I thought you were staying at the shack when things got bad at home.”

“I can’t tonight. I just can’t. Please Tony, just for tonight, let me stay over okay? Please.”

Elijah was looking at him with large, scared eyes, and Tony noted with a sinking stomach that he could see the sheen of tears forming and felt terrible. Elijah was his best friend and was already having to deal with a whole lot of shit he didn’t deserve. The least Tony could do was be a good friend in return.

“Sure you can stay here. No problem.”

Elijah smiled and hugged Tony. “Thanks, man,” he murmured into Tony’s shoulder.

“No biggie. Stay here, okay. I’m going to go get you something to drink,” Tony said, stepping away. He went downstairs and made a cup of hot cocoa and brought it back up to Elijah, hoping it would calm him and warm him up, because Elijah was still shivering and shaking. They sat down together on the floor and watched The Matrix, Elijah’s favorite movie. Elijah’s shaking calmed slightly as he watched the movie and drank the hot drink. In the darkness, before the movie was over, Elijah rested his head on Tony’s shoulder and fell asleep. Tony let him lean up against him until the movie was almost over. With Elijah’s head so close, he could smell the scent of smoke more strongly, and when he looked down at Elijah’s hand, he could see the glint of his father’s Zippo in his hand.

“Have you started smoking, Eli?” Tony asked, more to himself than anything, and was surprised when Elijah answered him.

“No.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Was.”

“Come on, then. Get up and we’ll go get in the bed.”

Elijah got unsteadily to his feet, pulled his shoes off, and changed into pajamas that Tony gave him to borrow, even though they were too short in the leg and too big in the waist. He fell into bed and scooted up against the wall.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?” Tony said, climbing in next to him.

“I’m in trouble.”

“With your uncle?”

“Kinda, but not really. I need your help.”

“What kind of help?”

“The kind we talked about the other night in the shack.”

Would you lie? To keep me out of trouble?

“You need me to lie?” Tony clarified.

“I hate having to ask you. I think it puts you in a bad position. You can say no. I won’t stop being your friend or anything.”

“I said I would do it, right? What do you need me to say?”

“That I was here tonight.”

“But you were here tonight.”

“That I was here for longer than I really was. I showed up around, what? Ten-thirty, eleven?”

“Closer to eleven, I think...”

“I need you say that I was here ever since around nine. Eight would be better.”

“Sure. I’ve been up in my room all night. I’ll say you were here since eight o'clock. Who should I tell that to?”

“Anyone who asks.”

I’m alibiing you. Tony thought. What were you doing at eight o'clock?

“Sure thing,” Tony said. “You came over, and we read comic books and played games on the computer. I beat your ass, by the way. Then we went to bed around eleven.”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Tony. You’re a good friend.”

“You’re welcome.”

Elijah fell asleep again, but Tony lay awake for a long time, wondering what was going on, what kind of trouble his friend was in, and what kind of consequences he was willing to face for Elijah.

* * *

When Tony woke up the next morning after feeling like he had hardly slept at all, he found the room empty. Getting dressed quickly, he raced downstairs, finding Elijah in the kitchen, drinking orange juice and eating pancakes. His mom was standing by the stove, making more pancakes. When he came into the room his mother turned and leveled him with a firm look that clearly said, You have some explaining to do young man.

There was a knock at the door. Elijah glanced up, pausing in the act of raising a piece of pancake to his mouth, syrup drizzling down onto the plate. Tony’s mother moved the pan off the burner and walked to the door.

Elijah finally lifted his fork, chewing the piece of pancake with a contemplative look on his face. Tony sat down next to him and looked at Elijah inquisitively.

“Tony!” his mother called, her voice tight with anxiety. Tony got up and went to the door. Two men in blue uniforms stood at the door, and Tony felt his heart and stomach collide somewhere inside his chest cavity. Cops.

“Hi,” he said. One of the cops, the younger one with brown hair, gave him a small smile.

“We’re looking for the whereabouts of Elijah Carter,” the older cop said. “Do you know this individual?”

“Um...Elijah’s right here, in the kitchen,” Tony said. “Why?”

“The McGutt residence burned to the ground last night,” the younger officer said. “The owner of the house is deceased. We’re trying to track down the remaining residents.”

“Burned?” Tony repeated. He remembered the Zippo clutched in Elijah’s hand last night and felt sick. The room spun dizzily and he clutched at the doorway, firmly told himself to keep it together.

“Tony.” His mother touched his shoulder and clapped her hand down on it, as a matter of fact, and none too gently. “Go get Elijah. Officers, please come in.”

Tony walked back to the kitchen in a daze. Elijah was sitting in his chair, not eating the rest of his pancakes, looking up at him calmly.

“Um...there are some police officers here.”

“What for?” Elijah asked. He was acting strange. Elijah was always overflowing with energy, energy that sometimes manifested in downright bizarre ways. But this perfect, composed calm...this wasn’t normal Elijah. This Elijah seemed almost...cold.

“Um...I’m not sure. Something about your house.”

“My house?” Elijah repeated, raising his eyebrows. He got up from the table and walked towards the living room where the cops were waiting. When he passed Tony, he pressed something into his hand. Tony’s fingers closed around it. Elijah glanced at him over his shoulder and gave him a secretive smile and a wink.

Tony let out a long breath, shoved the hand holding Elijah’s lighter deep into his pocket, and followed him.

 

When the officers told Elijah that his house had burned down, he turned white as a sheet and started shaking, similar to the way he was when he had showed up at Tony’s house the previous night. Tony stood behind the couch where his mother sat, watching and listening as the scene unfolded. Elijah’s lighter had grown warm in his sweaty grasp, and he traced the engraving of MC with his thumb again and again and again.

“And last night, you were...”

“At home. I left around seven-thirty and came here.”

“By yourself.”

“Yes.”

“Your uncle didn’t drive you?”

“No. He was watching television and drinking beer. He told me he was too drunk to take me anywhere.”

“Does your uncle drink a lot?”

“All the time. Smokes too.”

“So you left your house...”

“Seven-thirty. Got here around eight.”

“And what did you do?”

“Hung out with Tony up in his room.”

“Doing what?”

“Hanging out. Read comic books. Played on his computer.”

The younger officer glanced at Tony, who nodded.

“All right,” the younger officer said. “Mrs. Moretti, if you can just verify that Mr. Carter was here at eight o'clock last night, we’ll be on our way.”

Tony felt his heart grow heavy and cold in his chest. He was willing to lie, of course, but lying to the police was a different story. If his mom told the officers that she hadn’t seen Elijah at all last night, would they be in trouble? Could he go to jail?

“Of course I can verify that,” Tony’s mother said smoothly. “I was here all night. I made them both some macaroni and cheese and checked on them before going to bed myself around midnight.”

“What about Elijah?” Tony asked. “Where is he going to go?”

“We’ve already called someone from social services to place him in temporary foster care until a more permanent home can be found for him. Do you have any other living relatives, Mr. Carter?”

Elijah shook his head. “No. There was just Uncle John.”

“All right. We’ll be taking Mr. Carter down to the station until social services arrive. Mrs. Moretti, thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome, officers. Let me walk you to the door.”

Tony trailed after his mother and watched as the two officers led Elijah outside. The younger officer was bending down slightly, talking to Elijah with a serious expression on his face, but Tony couldn’t hear them from such a distance. The officer opened a door in the back of the car, and Elijah climbed inside. The officer slammed the door shut and went around to get in the front passenger seat.

Elijah never looked back.

As the car pulled away, Tony’s mother shut the door, then spent several moments staring at the road from the side windows. “So what time did he come over?” she asked.

“Eight,” Tony mumbled. He shoved his hand into his pocket again, gripping Elijah’s lighter with his sweaty fingers.

“No, he didn’t,” his mother said, crossing her arms. The tone of voice she was using made Tony shiver. “Tell me the truth, Tony. What time did he come over?”

Eleven. Tony thought. He remembered their conversation the other night before they had gone to bed.

Who should I tell it to?

Anyone who asks.

“I just told you. He came over at eight.”

“Okay, now you listen to me, young man. I just lied to the police for you and your friend. I am giving you one more chance to come clean or I’m telling your father that you are being dishonest. What time did that boy come over to this house?”

Tony was about to tell her. The threat about his father was no idle one and every child in the household had been the victim of his heavy hand on their bottom. And while Tony was pretty sure he was too old to be spanked, he wasn’t looking forward to see what other punishment his father could devise for him. But something in the way his mom phrased the question, the tone of her voice in the terms “that boy” and “this house” raised his hackles, and he decided that it was about time to stop being the dutiful son. This was serious, and he meant to show her that.

“Eight. You fixed us mac and cheese remember?”

His mom turned away from the window and he saw two blotches of color in her cheeks, and her eyes were hard and angry. “All right, then. Go up to your room. No computer. You can come back down when you’re ready to be honest, you understand?”

“Yes,” Tony bit out coldly. He turned towards the stairs, then paused. His mom had gone back to staring out the window, her arms crossed across her chest, and Tony felt a sudden surge of real, pure hate toward her. It was fleeting, gone as soon as it came, but it was there for a minute because she had known. She had known then, and she knew now, or she wouldn’t be so insistent on knowing what time Elijah had come over, because she was thinking the exact same thing that Tony already knew.

The fire had started the previous night and Elijah couldn’t account for his whereabouts.

“You knew,” Tony said suddenly, surprising himself. He could hear the thick bitterness in his voice. “You knew the truth and you said nothing. Did nothing. And that’s just as bad.”

“You get upstairs you little brat and don’t you come back down until I say you can,” his mom said. Tony stomped up the rest of the stairs and slammed his door. He picked up his shoes and threw them at the door one at a time, then collapsed on his bed, suddenly tired.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Elijah’s lighter. MC. Michael Carter. Elijah’s father.

He opened the lighter, ignited it, and then flipped it closed.

Open, light, close.

Open, light, close.

Open, light, close.

Elijah never came by to get it back.

 

Any illusions Tony had about repairing their friendship were put to rest the first week of school, when Elijah, who was finally wearing clothes that fit properly, went out of his way to avoid Tony, and, when that wasn’t possible, ignored him. Alliances, friendships, and rivalries shifted in the unstable ground of junior high, and Elijah seemed more interested in hanging out with the guys on the hockey team and the other jocks than with Tony, who accepted this with a lot of heartache and a growing sense of jaded cynicism.

After being coolly rebuffed by Elijah the second day of classes, Tony caught sight of Jessica Byrd standing in the hallway near her locker talking with some of her friends. He marched over to her and tapped her on the shoulder, planning to ask her something perfectly mundane to start a conversation. What he ended up doing was losing his head completely and kissing her. She pulled away and slapped him, hard. But when he asked her out at the end of the week, she accepted. And when she did, he thought he might have seen a hint of hurt in Elijah’s watchful eyes and was cruelly pleased to see it there.

And so it continued. Tony dated Jessica and hung out with the smart elite of the school. Elijah tried out for basketball in addition to hockey and hung out with the jocks. He never dated anyone.

Elijah never approached Tony for anything, not even to get his lighter back, which Tony was counting on. Sometimes at night, he would hold it and think of Elijah, think of him coming into his room late at night, smelling of smoke with sirens in the distance and asking him to lie. And he would flip it open, ignite it, and stare at the flame.

* * * 

A few months after Elijah and himself had parted ways, Tony found himself in the woods near Elijah's old house. He and Jessica had just broken up, and he didn't really want to go home. His new friends were all too busy with other stuff to hang out, and he didn't really feel like being around other people anyway. This was the only place he knew of that he could go to. He doubted Elijah came here anymore, since he now lived all the way on the other side of town, and he really wanted to be alone for a little bit.

Their childhood hideout was still there, looking much the same. He pushed open the weathered door and surprisingly enough, Elijah was there, sitting on the air mattress, back against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him. He was reading a magazine, and he looked up, his green eyes mildly amused as he saw Tony standing there.

“Hey, Moretti,” Elijah said, nodding at him.

“Eli,” Tony said in return, stepping inside and tossing his bag into the corner.

Elijah grinned at him, and Tony found it disturbed him to see that warm grin contrasting with Elijah's rather cold eyes. “Why are you here, Moretti?”

Tony shrugged. “I needed to get away."

Elijah chuckled. “Yeah. You never could stand to spend too much time with all the estrogen in your house."

"What about you?" Tony said.

Elijah shrugged. "I needed to think."

"About what?"

"About where I'm going."

"Going?"

"Yeah. I'm leaving."

"Why? Are they moving you to another home?"

"Nope."

"Then where--"

“Who said I have to stay with a foster family?” Elijah asked suddenly. “Who said I had to stay with my uncle after my parents died, huh? Who decides where I go? I sure as hell don't. So I started thinking, maybe I should leave. Go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's my choice.” Elijah tilted his head back, a dreamy expression settling over his face. “So I'm running away, Tony. Where should I go?”

"I don't think you should go anywhere," Tony said. "I think you should stay where you are."

"I want out of here," Elijah said. "I've already decided. There’s nothing here worth staying for. There was only the house that belonged to my parents, and that’s gone now.”

“And whose fault is that?” Tony asked, careful to keep all traces of accusation out of his voice.

Elijah glanced at him and his eyes were strangely wet. “You knew it was me. You knew the minute those police officers showed up at your house what I had done. Even then, you still lied for me.”

“Yeah. Wonderful way to show your fucking appreciation too, by the way.”

Elijah snorted and slid down the wall until he was lying on his back, folding his hands behind his head, and propping one ankle on the opposite knee. “I was doing you a favor. You and I both know your mother wouldn’t let the two of us hang out anymore after what happened. She was so pissed off at having to lie to save your ass. She never would have let me near you again. I just saved you the trouble of making a very difficult choice.”

Tony bit his lip, worrying the dry chapped skin with his teeth. He knew Elijah was right. His mother had point blank forbid him from having Elijah over anymore. His reply had gotten him grounded for two weeks and showed him that, despite his age, his dad was not above bending him over and blistering his bottom for being so disrespectful.

But it had been so much easier to just tell himself that Elijah was just being a jerk. It had always been easier to tell himself that rather than to see the truth lying so plainly in front of him. It had always been easier to lay the blame on Elijah’s thin shoulders that were already carrying too many burdens.

Tony hated himself at that moment. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?” Elijah asked.

Tony shook his head. “So...why did you burn the house?”

Elijah glanced at him. “Are you for real?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it wasn’t to get rid of my uncle. That was just a very fortunate side effect. He was so drunk asleep that he didn’t wake up. I thought he would. I was so certain he would. I made sure it looked like he had just dropped a cigarette while he was sleeping and that it caught the curtains on fire.

"It was hard. It was my parents' house, you know? I was afraid to leave it. It was where I was born, where I grew up with my mom and dad for a few years before they died. It was the house they moved into when they had just gotten married. It was all I had left of them, and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“So you burned it down instead? That doesn’t make much sense.”

“Well, I realized that my uncle was poisoning it. Instead of being a place where I was safe with my family, it was a place that I was scared to go to every day. Instead of it being a sanctuary, it was a prison. I began to hate it and that killed me because I didn’t want to hate the place where I had lived with my parents. It sucked. I didn’t want to stay with my uncle anymore. It had gotten too bad. I was planning on telling someone. But I didn’t like the thought of him continuing to live in my parents' house while I was away. So rather than let the memory of my house turn sour, and rather than allowing my uncle free rein over it, I decided to destroy it. Fire is cleansing, you know. It burnt away all the bad stuff, all the negativity, all the pain, all the fear, all the hate. It was all burnt away until there was nothing left but ash. And afterwards, I finally felt free, like I wasn’t trapped anymore. And it was wonderful.”

Tony stared at him. “I don’t understand,” he finally said. “If burning down your house was such a wonderful thing, then why are you so unhappy?”

Elijah glanced at him again and there was something different in his expression that time...surprise maybe. He got to his feet and walked over to the small table that held the radio and the hurricane lamps. He touched the chimney contemplatively. “Sacrifices were made. I didn’t realize it at the time, because I was too short-sighted, but when I set fire to that house, I lost something even more important.”

“What was that?” Tony asked curiously.

“You,” Elijah said. "Don't worry Tony. I have somewhere to go. Somewhere where I will always be safe. Do you want to go with me?"

"Where?"

"Home."

Tony had been staring at his sneakers when he had asked that last question and it wasn’t until Elijah answered his question that he started to look up. But by that time, Elijah had already started moving, swinging the hurricane lamp with a heavy hand, striking him on the side of the head. The oil base shattered and Tony dropped down to his knees before collapsing face down, blood flowing from his head, mixing with oil. Elijah watched him somewhat dispassionately, still holding the broken lamp by the chimney. He poked Tony with his foot cautiously. He was only unconscious, but he wouldn’t be that way for long. Elijah tossed the lamp aside and knelt down next to Tony.

"You were my whole world back then you know,” Elijah said quietly. “Everything I wanted to be, everything that I was too scared to touch. Perfect looks, perfect family. Perfect life." He reached out and pushed aside a lock of Tony's hair. A fly buzzed near the blood already drying on Tony’s scalp. Elijah ran his hand down Tony’s hip, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, searching, until his fingers closed over the cool metal. He pulled out the lighter he had given Tony, the one engraved with his father’s initials. MC. Michael Carter. His father.

He picked up the remaining hurricane lamp from where it sat on the table, threw it down onto the floor, where it shattered, sending a dark pool of oil spreading over the old wooden floorboards.

He hadn't planned on doing things this way, but now that he thought about it, he was glad Tony had come by. He was going home and there was no one he would rather have by his side for that terrifying journey than his best friend. Then they could all be together. Himself, his parents, and his best friend. A perfect family. The perfect life that he had always wanted and had never been given.

"We'll be safe, I promise," Elijah said and ignited his lighter. He watched the flame for a long time. He had always loved fire. It was so cleansing, so pure, so bright and hot it could burn away everything ugly and dirty. It was beautiful, golden, and the brighter it got, the hotter it burned.

He knelt down and placed the lighter on the floor, where the flame leapt ferociously to life. He knew that the dry, wooden boards would feed the fire well and the oil that he had left on the floor would keep it going strong. He lay down next to Tony and curled up against his friend's body. He vaguely thought that the fire might get to them before the smoke did, but regardless, Tony wouldn't be awake to experience it. His friend would die peacefully. It was all Elijah could give him.

Elijah closed his eyes.

They would die together among the flames.

Friends forever.

~END~