Shades

Yes, it was. It hadn’t been once upon a time, right after his father’s death. But over time, it festered like a wound; the alcohol infected her bloodstream, changing her. She’d been beautiful once, everything a mom was supposed to be. Now, her face was puffy and there were dark circles under her eyes that she hid beneath a layer of makeup when she went to work. At night, she passed out in front of the television, and only got up on time if he woke her.

All he’d wanted was his old mom back, his old life, to be happy. He’d wanted the fucking dirt bike his dad promised him and the Yankees season tickets and dinners out almost every night and for his friends to have a shot at good things, too.

Now he had shit.

Danny’s hands curled into fists. The energy built inside him. He could feel it pushing against his chest and skull. Then the rain came. Thunder boomed. A fat raindrop splattered against his head. Then another. More pelted the sidewalk. The trees rustled as the wind picked up. He looked up from the wet concrete and got his bearings. He was at a crossroads. Six blocks from school, six blocks from where his best friends had decided he was a traitor, and six blocks from the road leading to the Haverstraw Marina—where it had all begun. Six-six-six; Danny still had a lot to learn about numerology, but he knew that was a powerful number.

Then he glanced across the street and smiled without humor.

Giordano’s Happy Bottle Shop.

Neon signs flashed in the window. The cardboard standee of a buxom blonde girl in a miniskirt and t-shirt stood inside the door, advertising the can of beer in her two-dimensional hand. He’d seen the girl before, a beautiful fantasy promising fun and maybe even a chance to lose his virginity if he’d only buy a twelve pack of the brand she offered with an eager smile. He knew the beer well. His mom drank it when she needed something lighter than tequila or vodka.

“Fuck you,” Danny said to the cardboard girl and the window between them. Slowly, he took in the rest of the details of the Giordano’s liquor store. The feverish energy rampaging through his system swelled.

He didn’t think about it, just let it happen. There were two customers inside the store, and Mr. Giordano was behind the counter. Mr. Giordano, the man who was there for his kids, who took his family on vacations every year, and bought them anything they wanted and kept his promises. How much of that had his mother financed? How many times had she taken his cash and left her little I.O.U.s, all so she could afford another bottle?

Fists pressed against his sides, Danny closed his eyes and pushed. Then he opened his eyes again and watched.

The people inside the store disappeared. One moment they were there, and the next—they vanished, blinking out of existence in a single heartbeat. Simultaneously, every bottle inside the building exploded, spewing their contents across the floor and shelves. Shards of glass shredded the smiling cardboard girl. The store window shattered and broken glass rained down on the sidewalk. Danny pushed again and the air inside the building grew hot. The alcoholic fumes saturating the store burst into flame.

The last of the energy drained from him. Danny suddenly felt very tired. He stared at the store, his mouth hanging open. The fire raced through the building.

“Oh shit…”

He turned and quickly walked away, careful not to run and risk attracting attention to himself. It was hard to do. He had to resist the urge to flee. The falling rain increased, quickly soaking his clothing. Thunder boomed again. Behind him, the store exploded. Danny spun around, shielding his eyes with his hand as a massive ball of flame engulfed the store. His ears popped from the pressure. Fiery debris pelted the three cars in the parking lot. A station wagon was thrown into the air, rolling three times before it crashed into a dumpster. Superheated air slammed into him. Danny staggered. He smelled burning hair, and after a moment, realized it was his. The small, fine hairs on his arms were singed.

The sky opened up, and the rain poured hard and fast.

It did nothing to extinguish the inferno burning inside of him.

NINE

Come home, boy.

Danny wandered the neighborhood until he received the summons, making sure to avoid the liquor store. He didn’t want to be spotted at the scene. Although he was calmer, he felt cored out and hollow. His energies had drained away, and what remained wasn’t enough to let him tie his shoes without getting winded. Despite his fatigue, as soon as Gustav called him, he started running.

The Russian stood in the living room. His expression was grim. The couch was empty.

“Is she all right?” Danny’s knees felt like rubber.

“She will be. I think.” Gustav sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “What you did, Danny…that was dangerous. Stupid.”

Nodding with reluctant agreement, Danny sat down next to him and forced back tears. He’d cried enough for one day.