Herein are several people whose lives at first do not seem connected. Their paths converge unexpectedly. This is Part Fifteen.

Parts: 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15

Part Fifteen

Cooper pushed off with his right foot as he and Hunter rode their skateboards down their street. He knew that they had been lucky, but he couldn’t shake the feeling they were pushing that luck.

“You sure this is a good idea, man?” he asked.

“No, but they invited us, so we should go.”

“But we stole dude’s truck.”

“Borrowed, Coop.”

“I think once you totaled it, you lost the whole ‘borrowed’ excuse.”

Both boys looked both ways and then crossed the street. Each did his own stunt over the curb onto the opposite driveway and continued down the sidewalk.

“You’re gettin’ better, butt-munch,” Hunter said.

“Thanks, ass-bite.”

A few houses up ahead, two men sat in chairs on a driveway. A smoking grill stood nearby and a woman threw a ball to a toddler.

“Americana non grata,” mumbled Coop.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“If you’d spend less time reading and more time skating, you’d be as good as me by now.”

They approached a girl, no older than 12, on her front lawn twirling a baton. Short red and white streamers trailed from each end as she spun it between her fingers and then threw it several feet up. When she looked up to track it she faced the sun. She squinted and quickly lowered her head. The baton hit the grass and bounced onto the sidewalk between the two skaters.

Coop hopped his board over it and continued. “Thanks to our adventure, skating is about the only way we’ll be getting around in the near future.”

“We have friends who can drive.”

“Not any more.”

“They’ll come around.”

One of the men stood, winced in pain, and opened the grill. He leaned back as smoked billowed into his face.

The little boy pointed at Cooper and Hunter. The woman playing with him raised a hand and waved. “Hey, boys! Come on down. Been waiting for you.”

They stopped at the driveway and deftly flipped their boards up to catch them with one hand.

“Moment of truth,” Coop mumbled.

Muscles in his neck tightened as he worked to look relaxed. His stomach muttered its discomfort.

The man working the grill closed the lid and moved a large pair of tongs from his right hand to his left. He limped a few steps and reached out to shake Hunter’s hand. “I’m Blake Leftkowitz. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Hey,” Hunter said and gave Lefkowitz’s hand a few pumps.

As the two parted hands, Cooper offered his. Firm but not overpowering, Leftowitz’s hand was hot. “Nice to meet you, too, sir.”

“Just ‘Blake,’ guys, just ‘Blake.’”

“I’m Alex,” the seated man said. He stood.

They repeated the handshaking ritual with him and his wife, Liz. Their little son, Reid, pawed at the ball in Liz’s hands.

A half hour later, as the boys tore excess bun from around convex hamburger patties, Blake broke the awkward silence.

“Sorry about the shape. I don’t know why that always happens,” he said.

“You know, boys, I can kind of identify with what you did,” Alex said. “One time when I borrowed my dad’s car to take my friend home, I slid it into a ditch. Didn’t even have my license yet.” Alex said.

Hunter finished chewing a bite and swallowed. “But nobody held a gun to you and then got his neck ripped apart right in front of you.”

“Don’t get smart, bud,” Alex said.

“Be nice,” Liz said.

“I’m trying.” He turned to the boys. “You kids make it damn hard. After you stole his truck and wrecked it, almost killing us all, Blake here grilled burgers for you. And standing on his one good leg. And you smart off to me like that? I hope we bring up our son to know better.” He sat down hard, sloshing beer over the rim of his cup. He moved his feet quickly before the beer hit the driveway. “Shit. Now look what you made me do.”

Cooper and Hunter stared silently at him.

“Alex, take it easy,” Blake said. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and these kids probably saved my life. I’m not convinced it was a coincidence.”

“Damn hard,” little Reid said.

“Reid! We don’t say that,” Liz said.

Cooper and Hunter smiled. Blake laughed.

“I’m finished talking. I’m going back to our place now. Liz, you’re welcome to come with me,” Alex said and stormed across the grass between the driveways

Liz stayed behind as Alex disappeared into their open garage. From the garage his voice called out, “And you killed his little dog, too!”

Cooper suppressed a laugh. And your little dog, too!

“He’s upset because he’s the one who found the keys in the truck but left them there,” Liz said.

“Why? He helped, too,” Blake said. “These boys just followed through. If they hadn’t stolen my truck and smacked into us we might have been shot. We’ve all been through something much larger than car theft. The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“And that same Lord sent a monster to kill the carjacker?” Liz asked.

“Seems like it to me,” Blake said.

“Coop, you were saying some stuff like that right after it happened. You know, like God intervened or something. Spooky.” Hunter said.

“You mean while you were puking?” Coop shot back.

“Dude, that ain’t right.”

Liz threw the ball into the front yard and Reid followed as it bounced under the hedges. “Puking? What happened in that car, anyway?”

“Pretty much what we told them in court,” Cooper said. “He pulled his gun on us after we helped him out of your minivan. Then he walked us over to the two ladies standing there with a guy with a blanket over him.”

“He shot the guy under the blanket,” Hunter said. “Then he walked us to the ladies’ car and told me to drive. I told him it wasn’t going to drive ‘cuz it was wrecked so bad. He didn’t want to hear it. Made me keep trying.”

Cooper had a vivid recollection.

——-

They sat in the wrecked Toyota Matrix — Hunter in the driver’s seat, Cooper beside him, and the stranger in the back, pointing his gun at them.

“Get us out of here, young man. Now,” the gunman demanded.

Hunter frantically turned the key. The starter cranked, but the engine did not respond. Multiple lights flashed near the speedometer. “It’s hosed,” Hunter said.

Cooper heard a back door open. As he turned he saw a young man knock the gun from the stranger’s hand. Smoke rose from the intruder’s skin.

“Hey!” said the gunman.

The intruder put one hand on the gunman’s head and one on his shoulder, then opened his mouth wide and clamped down on his neck. Cooper thought he saw fangs. The gunman screamed once and then fell silent and limp. Cooper’s mind flashed an image of a tiger attacking a young gazelle.

Instead of just holding on, however, the intruder bit the man’s neck again and again, as if ravenous. Blood poured down the front of the gunman’s shirt. He finally stopped and, although it was hard to tell with the rain pelting the car, Cooper thought he heard him swallowing.

“I’m outta here!” Hunter yelled and opened the driver’s door.

Cooper got out and the two boys ran across the rain-soaked street to a convenience store.

——-

Blake was dumbstruck. He took a sip of his beer and reached under the grill to close the air vent.

“Wow,” Liz said. “That’s awful. The press didn’t release all that detail.”

Reid ambled over with the ball he had retrieved from the hedges.

“I was scared shitless,” Hunter said. “I’m not ashamed to say it now.”

Blake straightened after closing the grill’s vent. “I can see why,” he said. “I’m glad you guys told us about it. I knew a little communication would do us good.”

“Shitless,” Reid said.

“No, sir!” Liz said.

(to be concluded)