Every Inferno Read online

  Suddenly JJ was sure that he was going to vomit all over the spotlessly clean linoleum in front of him. He turned from the volunteer group and ran.

  “Son?” The director was calling for him, but JJ barely heard her. This had been a really stupid idea.

  He’d barely pushed his way out of the swinging doors of the ward when rough hands caught his shoulder. “Hey!”

  JJ glanced up long enough to see Dr. Ben towering over him, looking puzzled. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be touring with the group right now? I just came to see how your first day was going.”

  JJ’s stomach was churning. “I’m going to be sick.”

  Dr. Ben tugged him down the hall, and JJ went willingly. He allowed Dr. Ben to gently push him through a door and into a stall in the men’s room, where JJ lost all of his lunch and breakfast almost instantly.

  Eventually JJ heard a knock on the stall door, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. He pushed open the stall door, feeling shaky and embarrassed. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. Are you okay now?”

  JJ leaned against the metal next to him, trying to catch his breath. He hadn’t even made it past one door in the ward. “Fine,” JJ said quietly. “I just… saw something, that’s all.” Dr. Ben would probably think he got sick at the sight of blood.

  But Dr. Ben looked concerned. “What was it?”

  JJ stared at the floor, stubbing his toe into the white tile.

  “Let’s go down to the cafeteria. Get you some ginger ale.” Dr. Ben tugged again on JJ’s sleeve. For some reason, JJ followed.

  In the cafeteria, Dr. Ben ate tomato soup. JJ drank ginger ale and nibbled on crackers. His stomach already felt better, but Dr. Ben had suggested he take it easy on food for the moment.

  “You gonna tell me what caused that visceral reaction you had back there?” Dr. Ben slurped some soup.

  JJ fidgeted, eyes on everything in the room but Dr. Ben. “It was a stupid idea,” he muttered.

  “Well, that answers everything.” Dr. Ben smiled wryly.

  JJ sighed. “I don’t know why I thought I could volunteer there.” What the hell had he been thinking?

  “I was surprised you wanted to work here, JJ. I’m guessing you spent a lot of time in the pediatric ward, didn’t you?”

  JJ’s voice was so hoarse it didn’t even sound like his. “I was in one of those beds for weeks—I don’t even remember how long.”

  Dr. Ben studied JJ’s dark expression. “Then why on earth did you agree to volunteer there?”

  “Well, at first it was just ’cause I don’t like most adults very much, and you’re pretty cool, but then I wrote this poem and I realized that I’m, like, in this stupid cycle or something, and I started to think that maybe once I was here I could figure out how to break it or something. Since this is where it probably started.” JJ took a long breath and shook his head. “See? Stupid.”

  “What cycle? What are you talking about?” Dr. Ben was clearly confused.

  JJ rolled his eyes. “The cycle! The stupid cycle of me being angry all the time. Of me being trouble!”

  Dr. Ben’s mouth turned upward in a grin. “What are you smiling about?” JJ snarled.

  Dr. Ben picked up his napkin. “Nothing. It’s just… teenagers. You think you’re the only people in the world.”

  JJ hadn’t been expecting that answer at all. “What?”

  “You think you’re the only one who’s angry? You think I wasn’t angry when Sara died? When I brought my beautiful daughter for a fun day at the movies, and never came home with her? When my relationship of years and years ended because it couldn’t survive losing a child? You think I’m not angry too, JJ?” Dr. Ben’s voice was quiet and smooth, never wavering.

  JJ felt like Dr. Ben’s cool demeanor had squashed his temper tantrum. “Maybe, but you’re not pissing people off all the time.”

  Dr. Ben shrugged. “Maybe not. But I also wasn’t five when that fire happened. Look, JJ, don’t get me wrong—anger can tear you apart. I’m quite certain it destroyed my relationship. But it’s about how you react to your anger, what you choose to do with it. I’ve spent my life trying to put that energy into saving other people. I hope that if I do that well enough, it will make up for the anger I have that I couldn’t save my daughter. I applaud your effort to look for ways to improve your life and your own choices, but to start in the Pediatrics Ward? If I had the scars you do, both physical and not, that would be a lot for me. I know that much.”

  Feeling numbed by such a speech, JJ could only mumble. “Well, what am I supposed to do now? I still need my community service hours. And most adults really don’t like me all that much.”

  Dr. Ben laughed. “Look, there are lots of other departments in this hospital that need volunteers, JJ. And I just happen to know the folks who run the Physical Therapy department well. I also know they’re in desperate need of volunteers. Why don’t you let me talk to them for you? I’ll warn them you’re a little… intense.”

  “Intense?”

  “Hey, doctors are used to intense people. We’re pretty intense ourselves. Plus, in that department, you’ll probably just be wiping down tables or something. And don’t be so hard on yourself. I really am glad you’re thinking about the choices you make, but you don’t need to fix everything that’s wrong overnight. Get some more crackers down and I’ll take you home.”

  JJ shrugged and took another cracker, studying Dr. Ben’s words in his mind.

  THAT MONDAY, at the library, JJ wondered if his sneaking around to see Penny counted as part of the cycle. He decided it didn’t. He wasn’t sneaking around to see Penny to get back at Darryl or something—he just wanted to be part of his sister’s life. What could really be so wrong about that?

  At exactly 4:10, JJ was at Penny’s table in the Children’s Room. “JJ!” Penny squealed, and JJ thought he saw McKinley smile slightly at him.

  JJ watched McKinley walk Penny through some reading aloud, which seemed a little less terrible this week (or maybe JJ just wanted that to be true). McKinley even let JJ read the last section of one of Penny’s chapter books to her.

  At exactly 4:45, JJ got up to leave. Penny was bent over her backpack, looking for something in her folders.

  “Hey,” McKinley whispered to JJ. “Hang around. I want to talk to you after Penny leaves.”

  JJ thought about ignoring him, but he didn’t really want to piss off the only connection he currently had to his sister. So instead he loitered in the Mystery section, looking over a few Agatha Christie novels. He’d never thought they looked all that interesting before, but Aunt Maggie insisted she was one of the best writers of all time. He was bringing two of her books up to the counter when he had to duck back behind a display of DVDs: Darryl had arrived.

  Darryl probably looked like any other middle-aged woman to the other patrons of the library, but from JJ’s perspective, she might have been a vampire racing into the library to suck the blood of everyone there.

  Of course, even Maggie admitted that Darryl had an intimidating presence. She was average height, but she had nearly perfect posture and tended to wear high heels, so she always looked tall. She had the same sharp, angular features as her son Dennis, and she dressed in lots of dark colors. On top of all that, her hair was such a bright shade of red that JJ sometimes wondered if she dyed it.

  When JJ was eight, he had told Maggie that Darryl could go out on Halloween without a costume and everyone would just think she was a wicked witch.

  JJ stayed hidden behind his DVD stack until Darryl came down the steps from the Children’s Room with Penny behind her.

  “Did you and McKinley get a lot done today?” she was asking Penny sweetly. JJ was always astonished at how just how drastically Darryl’s tone could change. When she spoke to JJ, she always sounded angry and annoyed, like he was a telemarketer calling to interrupt her dinner (he’d only tried that trick a few times).

  “Good! We’re two days ahead in work,
and we did some reading in my chapter book for extra….” Penny’s voice drifted away as she and Darryl left through the library doors, and JJ breathed a sigh of relief before stepping out from behind the shelf.

  JJ checked out his books and waited for McKinley on a bench just inside the front entrance of the building. He was already into the second chapter of one novel when McKinley abruptly sat beside him. “Whatcha reading?”

  JJ studied McKinley briefly, trying to decide whether to tell him. “Agatha Christie.”

  “Mystery. Hmm. So your reading tastes match your persona?”

  JJ squinted. “You think I’m a mystery?”

  “Well… you barely talk in class, and it turns out you’re actually this really great hidden poet. Not to mention you’re the secret brother of the kid I’m tutoring. Sounds pretty mysterious to me.”

  JJ grinned at the idea of being mysterious. “Speaking of mysteries… whatcha want to talk to me about?” He narrowed his eyes. “You remember that I’m not gay, right?”

  McKinley sighed. “Sheesh, JJ. Do you tell every girl that you ever meet that you’re not interested during the first five minutes you’re talking to her?”

  JJ frowned. “I don’t really….” He stopped himself from admitting that no girls had ever really interested him. “Ah, no.”

  “Good. Then take my advice, and don’t do it with every gay guy you meet either. Listen, the reason I wanted to talk to you is that the other night, at the field, you were babbling a little.” JJ blushed, not quite sure exactly what he’d been babbling. “You were talking about how you remembered the guy who might have set the fire. You kept calling him the tattoo guy.”

  Of course. He would have said that. “Yeah… so what?”

  “So you don’t start babbling shit like that to some person that you barely know without getting them interested. I wanna know more. What did you mean when you said no one knows where the tattoo guy is?”

  JJ frowned. “Listen, McKinley, I was drunk, okay? I don’t even remember what I was saying. So can we just drop it?” He grabbed his backpack and stood.

  McKinley crossed his arms. “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “No. Listen, JJ, everyone in Moreville remembers that fire. It’s a really big deal. And then you start talking about how you might know the guy who did it or something? You can’t just decide not to tell me the rest of that. I mean, you’re not the only one who loves a good mystery.”

  JJ snorted. You’d like them a lot less if you lived through mine, he thought. “Whatever.”

  But McKinley kept his arms crossed and his eyes on JJ. “JJ, I’m already taking a really big chance on you, letting you show up to my sessions with Penny like this. So if you want to keep this arrangement going, you gotta trust me too.” His mouth stretched into a half smile.

  JJ blinked. “Are you… blackmailing me?

  McKinley waved that off. “Only a little. And JJ, I’m really not doing it to be an asshole or something. I do want to get to know you better. I think you’re an interesting guy.” He patted the seat next to him.

  JJ shook his head and sat back down. “I’ll tell you a little,” he finally compromised. “But I’m still not gay, okay?”

  McKinley studied him with that same half smile. “JJ, methinks you are starting to protest too much.”

  JJ just rolled his eyes.

  He ended up filling McKinley in on the same basic details of the dream. McKinley nodded as JJ talked, looking more interested when he got to the specific details of what the tattoo looked like.

  “They even did a sketch of it?”

  “Yeah. They sent it out to the tattoo shops and whatever. So far, nothing.”

  McKinley nodded. “Dude, that sucks. So what are you gonna do now?”

  “About what?” JJ was puzzled.

  “To find the arsonist. You know, solve the mystery.” McKinley gestured at the novel on JJ’s lap.

  “You think I should look for the guy?”

  McKinley shrugged. “I dunno. Just kind of seems like you’re all about mysteries and stuff. Plus, even if the police are looking into the tattoo, there’s no way it can be their first priority. That fire happened a decade ago. I thought someone who created an arson investigator as the key character in his writing would be all about finding an arsonist he’s dreaming about. “

  “How do you know about Detective Finch?” JJ was appalled.

  McKinley shrugged. “You have your mysteries, I have mine.”

  “That’s… private! I told you, I’m really private!” JJ sputtered.

  “Yes. Yes, you are.” McKinley nodded earnestly.

  JJ was speechless.

  “Seriously,” McKinley continued, “you seem all about this detective stuff. So why not give it a go? I’m not suggesting you charge into dangerous back alleys or something. But this is a small town. There’s gotta be something about that tattoo we could look into.”

  “We?”

  McKinley shrugged. “JJ, I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little bored these days. It’s not like there’s a lot of dating prospects for a guy like me in this Podunk town, and I’m sick of spending every weekend either drinking in a field or going to the town’s one bowling alley. Even Twitter’s boring right now. Our school’s classes are way too easy.” He smiled. “I asked you about the stuff you were spewing in the field that night because it seemed like it might be interesting. And it turns out I was right.”

  JJ found that he was still speechless.

  “Look, think about it, okay? I know you’ll be at Penny’s next tutoring session. We can talk about it then.” And with that, he punched JJ lightly in the shoulder and left.

  JJ was pretty sure his mouth was wide open. And he still couldn’t come up with a single thing to say—not that there was anyone there to say it to, anyway.

  PENNY’S NEXT tutoring session wasn’t for two more days. JJ spent those days trying not to make eye contact with McKinley in Creative Writing and doing a whole lot of his trademark thinking.

  He was sitting in writing class the day of Penny’s session, trying to make revisions to his poem. He’d already decided that Andrew was right about the title, and now “Unbreakable Cycle” was scrawled across the top where “Broken” used to be.

  Their words have broken me.

  He studied the line for a long moment. He still hadn’t decided if he believed this cycle was unbreakable. Dr. Ben had said something in the hospital about how he was glad JJ was thinking about his “choices,” and JJ thought he should probably try to do more of that, but that couldn’t be all it would take, right? Just thinking about the choices he was making seemed way too easy. The cycle JJ was talking about in the poem felt so much bigger than that.

  JJ started to change the line in the poem around, playing around with the idea of settling a score, the phrase he’d heard Maggie use in the hospital.

  I know no other response but to settle the score

  And then, all at once, it was there: the answer.

  If he was stuck in a cycle, then of course going to the hospital hadn’t broken it—that wasn’t where the cycle had really started. The cycle had started with the fire, with the moment the arsonist had walked into the Bijou Theater.

  Maybe that was the only way to break the cycle: settle the score with the arsonist.

  Instantly, JJ decided that McKinley was right. JJ should start looking into the tattoo himself. Honestly, he wasn’t really sure why he hadn’t thought of that before. With all the hours he spent reading and writing mystery stories and watching cop dramas on TV, it should have occurred to him to do some of his own investigating. And McKinley was also probably right when he said the police weren’t going to put their full attention on catching someone who started a fire years ago and had never been heard from since. No, if JJ really wanted this cycle broken, he was going to have to start looking for this tattoo himself.

  JJ played with a few more words in the poem and sat back to consider whether he wanted McKinley’s help
. And when McKinley glanced over and waved, JJ decided it was time for a pro-con list.

  CONS:

  —Have to talk to McKinley a lot and tell him personal stuff

  —I like doing stuff by myself

  —I don’t think he believes that I’m not gay

  PROS:

  —Might be nice to have someone else know what’s going on

  —Could help me make some other friends

  —He’s really happy all the time

  And for some crazy reason, it was the last item that convinced JJ he should take McKinley’s help.

  “SO WHAT do we do first?”

  JJ just blinked. It was right after Penny’s tutoring session that evening, and he and McKinley were sitting in a secluded section of the library, away from the Children’s section, just in case Darryl and Penny came back to the library for some reason. JJ had just told McKinley he was up for them doing some detective work together… only to find out that if McKinley was bringing anything to the table, it sure wasn’t years of knowledge and experience with arson investigation.

  “How should I know?” JJ tried not to growl, but he was pretty sure he didn’t end up sounding very nice.

  McKinley just shrugged, undaunted by JJ’s tone. “I mean, you read all the detective stuff. You even write it. I figured you’d know where we should start. What do the characters in books do first?”

  JJ was still pretty annoyed that McKinley had found out about Finch, but he decided to let it go for the moment. Instead, he thought about what Detective Finch always did first. Detective Finch was based on hours and hours of crime dramas and movies and pages and pages of mystery novels, so that had to be at least close to right. “Um. They look over all their clues. They go back over the scene of the crime.”

  “We can do that.” McKinley pulled out a notebook. “You talk. I’ll write.”

  An hour and a half later, they’d run over everything JJ remembered from that night, everything he remembered from his dream, and a lot of the newspapers and police reports in the library’s archives. McKinley sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Wow. I’m starting to see why the police got stuck.” He gestured at the notes and printouts around them. “That’s not a lot to go on.”