White Shadows

Chapter 25 - Club Foot

***ALEX***

Sunday, June 13th. At least it's not Friday - I don't need any more bad luck than I've had lately.

Mom and I have spent a while sorting out what belongings of Gabe's we're going to keep, and which we're going to donate. For instance, I've divided his clothes (except, of course, the underwear - and his socks, because no way am I exposing anyone else to whatever germs he may have accumulated on his feet) into a number of piles. One goes to the Goodwill store at the Spellman Center, one to Gideon (he's glad to finally have enough guys' shirts to get him through a week before doing the laundry), one to me (mostly comprised of shirts I knew were Gabe's favorites, the better for me to remember him by), and one to Kyle. This pile, I'm carrying in a huge IKEA bag as I fly down to Kyle's place in Esteros, right between Spellman and San Jose. These clothes are cushioning Gabe's poster collection as well.

Ten minutes of flight, and then I land on Kyle's doorstep. I ring the doorbell and stand back, then I hear footsteps on the other side. "Sorry, we're not..." A woman's voice, lightly Hispanic-accented, begins to spout off what must be the same "go away" spiel Mom likes to give to unwanted callers, but then she stops and opens the door. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says. She looks like the mom from Wizards of Waverly Place - that was a favorite show of mine and Gabe's when we were little. "Kyle told me you were coming. Alex, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Kyle's mom," she says, shaking my hand. "You can call me Rosa. So..." She gestures to my bag. "Those are your brother's things, then? I'm sorry for your loss, mijo."

"Thank you," I say, stepping over the threshold for the first time. "So...where's Kyle?"

"In his room." Rosa points down the hall that extends behind her, deeper into the house. "He's been holed up in his room for days. Maybe you should encourage him to come outside, get some sunshine?"

"Before another hurricane strikes?" I ask, counting myself lucky I wasn't there to see that. Luca and Gideon only told me later that when Paul died, it was in the middle of a storm. Sure, it was just the edge of the storm that touched San Francisco, but there was still a lot of flooding near Ocean Beach as a result.

Rosa says something in Spanish that I think translates to "God forbid." Switching back to English, she adds, "If you listen closely, you might hear the heavy metal, even on his headphones."

"Does he listen to metal when he's down?" I ask. I can't see how that would help, unless the shrill noise numbs his emotional pain or something. It'd have the opposite effect on me, I think. But I'm not Kyle - we all grieve differently, right?

I knock on his bedroom door. "Kyle? It's me, Alex."

He opens his door, a pair of white headphones slung around his neck. It's not heavy metal, the tinny noise issuing from the padded speakers, but it's still hard stuff by anyone's standards - a Kasabian tune that likes to show up in movie trailers and TV shows sometimes.

"Sorry about the mess," he says as I come in with the bag. He's not kidding - there are clothes strewn all over the floor, some covered in food crumbs. As for Kyle himself, he's wearing a ratty T-shirt and boxers, he's got dark circles around his eyes, and a video game is paused on the TV. "I look like a fucking junkie right now, don't I?"

"I can see why you liked Gabe," I say. "You two have this much in common, at least."

"Oh come on." He uses his bare foot to pick up some jeans, then puts them on. "He's not this bad."

"You didn't see his room at home, did you? Only at Castledown. And he shared that room with another guy."

Kyle pushes his controller aside, and flattens the bunched-up sheets at the end of his bed so I can put my bag down. He then pulls out the first shirt he finds, one of Gabe's most prized ones - "Keep Calm and Kill Zombies." He holds it up to his face for a moment, then says in a breaking voice, "It...it still smells like him." He smiffs it repeatedly. "Can...can I...can I try it on?"