Chapter 7: Hot Spell

Monday was hot. Even in the morning I could feel the heat. It would be in the high nineties today, maybe even hit three digits. The clouds were gone, and I could feel the sunlight almost like physical pressure. It reminded me of the summers in Kazallu. Back there, when the air heated up, so did the tempers. There were more fights, and more injuries and deaths. People talked of the evil spirits of summer. We sorcerers knew that the spirits didn't care about the heat; it was men's nature that reacted to it. Here, with air conditioning everywhere, perhaps summer was not the time of rancor and rage that I recalled.

My Advanced Placement Biology exam was coming up in three days. To avoid any last-minute complications, I went in to see the teacher of that course, Mr. Oceano.

"Hello, Mr. Oceano, I took a biology course with you last year."

"Yes, I remember you, Martin. What's up? Are you thinking of taking AP Biology next year?"

"Uh, no, Mr. Oceano. I have been talking to Ms. Sidemore, the counselor, about taking AP Chemistry II next semester. She said that as a prerequisite I was supposed to take and pass the AP Biology final this year."

"Hmm, I don't recall anything like that. You said Ms. Sidemore discussed this?"

Damn! I was afraid of that. "Yes, Mr. Oceano. She first proposed that I take a special exam, but then agreed that taking the actual Biology final would be better."

"I now recall her asking about making up and administering a special exam a week or so ago, but then she said it wasn't necessary any more, so I didn't pursue it. As I recall, she didn't want to give me much time to prepare and I wasn't really happy with that. So, it was for you?"

"Yes, Sir. I want to make sure I can come to your final, and whether there were any other special arrangements I should know about."

"Well, I see no problem with you taking the exam. It's going to be on Thursday, at 10, and will take 90 minutes. If you studied our text – you did, good – you should be familiar with the questions. I will grade your test as usual, and the results will be available next Monday for the entire class. Obviously, I am not going to give you a term grade, but the final should be a pretty good indication of your understanding of the material.

"I will check with Ms. Sidemore in case she wanted any special handling for your exam, but as of now I see no problem. Good luck, Martin, and see you on Thursday."

I thanked Mr. Oceano and left. Inside, I was irritated with my so-called counselor. I wondered if she was going to deny that she had ever agreed to the biology test. Probably not, I decided. Too many people were involved in the discussion, including the AP Chemistry teacher.

Air conditioning or not, I had to perform a breathing exercise to achieve calm.

My calm didn't last very long. When I got to the History classroom I could see something wrong immediately. Pamela was alone, without her usual companion. Maybe Linda was delayed in a previous class or a restroom. Pamela was paler than I've ever seen her. In fact she looked like she might throw up at any point.

"Pamela, what's wrong?" I hugged her, only wondering afterwards if she wanted to be seen that closely to me. My fear of her reaction was immediately relieved by her clutching me tightly. Her muffled sob prevented me from enjoying this new level of public affection.

She finally pushed back. "Linda. She's been attacked. Raped. She is in the hospital. Her boyfriend – you know, Antonio? He got stabbed. He's also in the hospital."

Instead of feeling hot, I was now chilled in the normally comfortable air of the school hallway. "How is she? Is she going to be all right? Do you know if Antonio is..."

"Physically, she will recover, I think. I talked to her on the phone. They are keeping her for a couple of days because of some stitches and a knock on her head, but she says she will recover fully. Psychologically – she doesn't sound good.

"They wouldn't let her see Antonio, but she's been told he will recover. I don't know anything more."

Pamela sobbed again. I asked for details, but more as something to say, rather than because I really needed to know. Hugging Pamela was all I could do, but the bell interrupted us. I was reluctant to let her go, but her desk was only a few feet from me. Like a sore thumb, Linda's desk next to her remained empty.

I could only snatch another couple of minutes after the period ended before we had to part to go to our next classes. I had regained my calm, but continued to feel cold for the rest of the day. I felt a brief flash of heat when I saw Diego. He actually saw me first and snarled, "Stay away from our women; you'll live longer." I turned my eyes away and rushed to the next class. As a boy in Kazallu, I had experienced only a few fights when very young. Once I became a student of sorcery, I stopped fighting. Fighting between sorcery students was absolutely forbidden, on pain of expulsion or death. And no outside boy dared start a fight with one of us – the sorcerers' curses were greatly feared in the city.

I was never taught to fight with my body – that was for the soldiers. And Martin was no fighter either. So I looked away and tried to put Diego's threats out of my mind.

After school, Pamela and I talked about visiting Linda. She planned to find out about visiting hours in whatever wing or department held her friend. I would look into transportation.

Mother was horrified by the news, as well as appropriately sympathetic, and she let me borrow her car. I picked up Pamela a few minutes after six.

"I talked to Linda. She can have visitors until 8. She asked to bring her notes and homework assignments. She says she will try to keep up."

"Is she well enough to work?"

"She still has a headache but can read. She says she is bored, lying around and waiting for doctors. She wasn't all that enthusiastic about visitors, but didn't say no either. Look, Martin, if she gets upset with you because you are a man, don't take it personally, I read that some girls..."

"Yeah, I've read that too. I looked for the news of the attack, but the local news is almost useless. It says nothing about any investigation, just that 'two teenagers were hospitalized after a possible assault'."

I had to pay for hospital parking. Somehow that didn't seem fair; were poor families not able to visit their loved ones because they couldn't afford to pay parking every day?

We found Linda after wandering around the hospital corridors and asking for directions three times. The building didn't look all that big outside, but contained a maze with endless corridors on the inside.

Linda was alone in a double room. She didn't look good. At least, she didn't have any tubes connecting her to the equipment, but there were wires and bandages all over her. Pamela approached right away, but I was a little slower.

She cringed a little when she saw us, but didn't seem to fear me. "You might as well come and take a good look. I am a sight!"

"Oh, Linda!" Pamela tried to hug her without putting any pressure on her. Linda's forehead had a bandage, and below that she had a lot of bruises. Both girls ended up with tears leaking out, but not quite crying.

I approached from the other side, still moving slowly in case she got nervous. Linda looked at me with an expression I couldn't interpret. "Do you mind if kiss you?" I asked.

"What? Why would you want..." Linda trailed off as I slowly, in case she objected, lowered my head and kissed her gently on the lips. I barely touched her but it seemed to have an effect, Linda relaxed.

"Thank you. I was feeling dirty. I mean, I am dirty, I can't wait until I can have a shower. But I felt unclean. You really don't mind kissing me?"

Pamela smiled at me gratefully. "This once, I will thank my boyfriend for kissing another girl. Don't make a habit of it, though!"

"So, I am your boyfriend, finally! Can I call you Pam?"

"Not if you want to remain my boyfriend, Mart!"

Linda was smiling a bit at our antics. "Are you always like that? Or is that for my benefit?"

"Both. We often end up teasing each other, and Pamela's whole family's like that, too. But though we normally don't do it with 'outsiders', I think Pamela wanted you to feel like you are one of us. Right?"

"Pretty much. Linda, I am so sorry this happened to you. I brought your homework. Anything I can do to make this easier, just let me know."

"You are making me feel better. I wasn't sure I wanted anybody to see me like this, but I am glad you came. Martin, you really didn't mind kissing me?"

"Linda, you are a very pretty girl, and my friend. You recall I asked you out before Pamela, a fact she never lets me forget," I added, as Pamela mock-swiped at me.

"You are bruised, but bruises don't change you. If we had ended up dating, and I had bruised my face, would you have gone 'yuck' and avoided me?"

"No, of course not, but I don't mean just the bruises."

"Yeah, Linda, I know, but you got beaten up. Injured. That's how I view it. You will get better. Again, would you avoid me if I got beaten up? Are you going to avoid Antonio?"

This time, the tears turned into sobs. After she calmed down a bit, Linda lowered her voice and spoke quickly.

"It's my fault he got stabbed!" Pamela made a questioning noise, but Linda continued with hardly taking a breath. "It was Diego, Carlos and Leonardo. Diego had been coming on to me for months, but of course I blew him off. He is a creep! Lately he's been saying I am one of 'their' girls, just because my parents were born in Mexico!

"Last night they must have followed Antonio and me when we went to Chesney Park. We planned to make out – there's never any opportunity to do it at home, both of us have younger siblings. They had ski masks on, and before I could scream they hit Antonio on the head and he fell down. No matter how I yelled, nobody came, and they kept hitting me and tearing my clothes off. Then they, they, fucked me. And again. Partway through that, Antonio must have come to and tried to get one of them off me. They stabbed him; and he fell down again and was bleeding. I started screaming again and they hit me on the head. I eventually came to and called 911.

"They kept saying that I wouldn't be hurting if I'd been nice to 'my people', like I was supposed to. They said a lot of other things." The sobbing resumed. I was horrified, Pamela hugged Linda again and they sort of cried on each other. I wondered if Linda's accelerated heartbeat would bring somebody in to check, but apparently not.

After another five minutes of the girls calming down, and me holding the one hand without the sensors and gently stroking it, Linda resumed her description, this time without the gasping rhythm.

"They wore masks and used condoms. I talked to the policewoman today. They will investigate, but without physical evidence she doubts anybody would be arrested, much less convicted. And I am sure they have other gang members that would swear they were all together watching TV and doing homework when the attack occurred.

"While they were raping me they kept saying that nothing would happen to them, and if I tried to make any accusations they would cut my family. They also said that if I tried to go out with Antonio again, next time he wouldn't be alive when the ambulance arrived. And, and, if I wasn't nicer to 'my friends', they will take what they want again, instead of asking for it.

"I don't know what to do! If they don't get arrested – and they won't – they will just wait until I am alone and rape me again. And if I am with someone, they will hurt or kill him. I have to break up with Antonio, I can't get him killed! How am I going to do this, when he got stabbed defending me?!"

I now felt hot. Rage is hot. I now knew why Diego had snarled at me and said what he'd said in the hallway.

Pamela continued to hug and sympathize with Linda. She was talking about therapy, but I knew there was an external threat that therapy wouldn't touch. I wanted to promise Linda that everything would be all right, that I would take care of it. But I knew I could not. First, I wasn't sure I could take care of it, and I could not give her false hope. Second, if I did end up doing something about the threat, the last thing I wanted was to be heard uttering some foolish promises before the fact.

We finally left Linda, still depressed, but hopefully assured that she had friends. Pamela boiled all the way home. My boiling was hidden – I was plotting.