A Breath Too Late - Rocky Callen Page 0,17

you in it, the peace and quiet and gentleness. It takes me a moment to recognize the familiarity of it. I had drifted on these notes before. In a place that was for dreams and dreamers.

And then that’s when I remember: I was the one who showed you the place. Our place.

* * *

We were seven. I had cut through Britney’s yard and found it while trying to climb the tallest tree near the rows of houses. It was a small cove with purple flowers and low branches for climbing. There had been some fallen-over logs that looked like dugouts for war. It was perfect.

As soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew I wanted to take you there.

I held your skinny, callus-less hands and dragged you behind me. You had grown taller and you couldn’t quite keep up with your limbs, so you kept tripping over every bit of underbrush. I laughed when you fell and you would give me your fake-glare every time.

“Hurry up!” I teased.

Your big saucer eyes didn’t disappoint. The moment we stepped into the clearing, they grew five times wider. “Wow, Ellie! It’s perfect.”

I let go of your hand and ran to jump on a log. “I told you it would be!” I walked across the log, balancing with my arms outstretched. “This can be our secret place. We can rule it.”

“As king and queen?” you said, turning slowly around the space, admiring it.

“No, as warriors.” I lunged for you and pushed you down. “Ellie Walker takes down August Matthews with one—” My narration was interrupted as you pulled me down and sat on top of me, grabbing my fists to make me hit myself.

You took over the fight’s narration. “Then Ellie, crazy from mutant poisoning, starts to hit herself in the—”

“Do your stories always have to include mutant poisoning?” I said, pushing as hard as I could so I wouldn’t slap myself.

“Uh, only the best ones do.”

I rolled my eyes. And hid a smile.

That little cove set behind the Fairfield subdivision and nestled in the woods became our sanctuary for years. It was also the first place that made me realize you could create a new world and live in it. You could shut out all the ugliness and the realness of everything else and laugh so loud that it hurt. I liked that pain. And there in our little sanctuary was the only place I felt it.

Shortly after that first day, you pinned me down by my shoulders and I flailed to wiggle free. “Is that all you got, Walker?” you asked. Your canine tooth was missing because you fell off the monkey bars and knocked it loose. It made you look adorable, disarming. I pulled my feet up to my chest and kicked. You plopped back into the dirt and moss at the base of the sycamore trees.

“I guess not.”

You roared as you lunged forward to knock me over again. I faked left and then pivoted to my right and you fell to your knees in an inglorious and messy thud. Laughter erupted from me and you looked back over your shoulder to glare, but nothing you did was truly based in anger, although you sometimes did try to make a show of it. It didn’t take long for your big mouth to quirk up in a grin. You were laughing by the time I stood up.

“Fine. We’ll call this one a draw.”

“A draw?” I scoffed, indicating that there was a clear victor in this round.

“Okay, fine. You win. A-E rules, right?”

“Right.” I grinned. “A-E rules” was our code. You would continue wrestling me in the woods if, and only if, I wouldn’t tell anyone when I won. It was our secret. We were superheroes and warriors in these woods set between the river and the subdivision. I still liked playing with sticks and wielding them like swords. I was a fighter.

I looked up to the sky. The sun was starting to dip and I stiffened. “I have to go home.”

“Oh, c’mon! We didn’t get here till late today. Just stay out for another hour.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“Don’t be a wuss. What’s the point if you don’t get into trouble every now and then?”

I looked away from you toward a small creek. It was a skinny, spidery waterway that fed into the river. I knew the kind of trouble you were talking about. I saw when your mom would pull you aside, all pointy fingers and stern voice and say, “You’re