“Enjoy your new hand,” Mick said, and rushed out of the clearing.
58
After a quick pep talk, Dad sent Father McKagan through the thicket. One more down, three to go. All the drama made Ash tremble. It reminded her of waiting backstage before a big show. Except now her bandmates were Dad, Berke, and Gina Narducci. Between the three of them, they probably had enough musical talent to barely pull off “Smoke on the Water,” but that didn’t matter. Soon she’d be reunited with Bad Parts.
Assuming Cheeto didn’t quit.
No. He can’t.
Either way, they needed to talk. The way she’d treated him in the parking lot earlier—all that yelling and other bullshit—could cause a breakup. A band breakup, not a romantic one. Although they also needed to address what’d happened in the van last night. Christ.
Ash spotted an approaching silhouette. Both she and Dad readied their guns and took cover behind nearby trees.
The figure came closer, soon revealed to be Trent’s wife Lauren. A huge duffle bag swung from her shoulder.
“Trent and Jake are on their way,” she said, huffing, bending to catch her breath. Her face was red. “I ran ahead.”
“I can see that.” Ash pocketed her gun. “What’s with the bag?”
“Towels and a change of clothes for Jake.” Lauren faced the thicket, her eyes big and worried behind her glasses. “Are we sure the creek’s safe? I mean, spiritually safe? Has anyone considered that it could be Satan swimming in those waters? What if it is Satan? What if he’s been deceiving everyone all along? I don’t want my perfect little boy trading away his soul along with his eyes, not in a million years. It’s wrong, it’s unholy, it’s—”
“Settle down!” Ash snapped. “Don’t ruin this on Jake. The creek is safe. People have been trading for decades and nobody’s burst into flames. Hell, I just traded my ribcage and I’m completely fine.”
Lauren’s eyebrows lifted at that, then even higher as she saw Father McKagan shrugging through the pines, his hair wrapped in a towel. He moved with a hurried limp, trying to zip his jacket.
“Kidneys working?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” the priest said. “It’s strange. Like I can sense them in there.”
“You traded?” Lauren asked, clutching at her crucifix necklace. “You, a priest?”
“Priests don’t get special treatment on waiting lists.”
“That’s not what I meant. That creek—is the devil in there?”
“Hard to say.” Father touched his lower back. “I just sacrificed my kidneys in a show of faith for new ones. Could be that I’ve been saved by an agent of God. Then again, trading a bad pair for perfectly good ones… I’m not sure.”
“I don’t like this,” Lauren said. Breathing heavy, she stared into the thicket. Her shoulders shook with every exhalation. She turned to Ash. “Can I see this creek? Decide for myself?”
“Fine.” Ash guided her through the pines. At the bend she explained that Jake would need to dunk his head. Lauren flinched at the idea and asked a billion questions, motor-mouthing until Ash gave up on answering. Lauren didn’t seem to register the answers anyway. The woman squatted near the creek and studied it like a scientist, adjusting her glasses and shining her phone’s light over the surface.
“Ashlee!” Dad yelled. “They’re here!”
Ash hurried back, leaving Lauren behind. Trent and Jake arrived in the clearing hand-in-hand, the boy leading the way with his bat. Knowing what this moment meant to both of them, Ash was warmed by the sight. They were about to heal much more than damaged body parts.
“You two ready for showtime?” she asked.
Jake’s face perked up at the sound of her voice. “Ash! I’ll be able to see your tattoos!”
She had to laugh. “That, and my ugly teeth, unfortunately.”
“You sound real pretty though.”
“Aww, you little brown-noser.” She ruffled his hair. “Ready, tough guy?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “But I have to go underwater.”
“You’ll be fine,” Trent said, squeezing Jake’s hand. “I promise.”
Nearby pine branches rustled, and out stumbled Lauren. Her hood was up. She hung her head, shaking it as if disapproving of what they were about to do.
“Where you going?” Trent asked when she rushed past them. “We’re about to go in.”
“I know,” she said, not breaking stride. “I’d rather not see this.”
“Mom?” Jake said, his voice straining. “You’re not staying?”
Ignoring her son, she continued down the trail.
Trent lowered himself to the muddy creek bank and tried to breathe. His chest felt hollow, as if there were nothing in there to push the air from his lungs. Beside him, Jake took a knee at the edge of the bend and huffed like a sprinter who couldn’t finish the race. Trent rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“Take your time,” he said. “Get a feel for it if you have to.”
Jake poked a nervous finger into the water. “It’s really cold, Dad.”
“It’s only for two seconds.” Trent hugged him long and hard, as if to squeeze the fear out of Jake like juice from a lemon. “Two seconds, champ. Then I’ll dry you off, and you’ll be able watch me fix my leg.”
Jake swallowed hard.
Ash knelt beside him and rubbed his tiny back.
“Ash?” he asked. “Was it scary?”
“My trade? Nah. You’ll feel a pull—” She yanked him backward to demonstrate. He squawked with surprise, then laughed. “Relax. Don’t fight it. Let it take you.”
He nodded.
“You’ll be fine,” Trent said, forcing conviction into his tone. “Like Ash said, relax.”
“I hate water, Dad.”
“I know.”
“Last time—”
“Last time you lost your eyes. Now you’ll get them back.” Trent cupped a hand behind Jake’s neck. His tiny shoulders vibrated from his quick, heavy breaths. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. From now to when your face hits the water to every moment after.”
“Okay.” Jake swallowed. “I want…”
Trent shut his eyes.
“I want to trade…”
“Go on.”
“I want to trade my eyes.”
For a moment nobody moved. Trent applied slight pressure to Jake’s neck, tipping him forward.
The creek did the rest.
Jake’s face met the water. Trent squeezed his hand and listened carefully, picturing his son bravely enduring that cold, mucky water. Blindly, Trent reached for a towel. He pulled it into his free arm, and then Jake was upright, gasping.
“Champ! Can you see?”
Jake blinked.
“It’s all black. I see black.”
“What?” Trent waved a hand in front of his face. “How many fingers?”
“I’m still blind! Nothing changed!”
Ash grabbed his elbow. “Jake? Did you—”