Melody Burning (20 page)

Social Services had just been doing its job. They had no idea that they had inspired an attack from a one-woman army.

Hilda learned about the fostering process. She hired a lawyer, fired him, hired another. She went before judges, shuffled papers, signed documents, sucked her plastic cigarette, and worked far into the night in her cluttered hotel room near the hospital. No matter what it took, she intended to fulfill her promise to Mel.

It turned out that Beresford was in a group home in West-lake. He wasn’t a prisoner, not exactly, but he wasn’t free to come and go, either. She talked to the manager of the home, who e-mailed her the house rules. She bit her cigarette to pieces and fumed.

Then she found a new judge, who was willing to listen to a crazy story. By gently questioning Mel, Hilda had discovered enough to track down Beresford’s identity. His name was Robert Langdon. His father had been murdered, almost certainly by Luther Szatson, when he discovered that dangerous violations were being intentionally built into the Beresford.

Before the fire, Mel had been a rising star, just beginning to shine. Now she was a mega superstar. Her concert recording had led to three top positions on
Billboard,
her downloads were slowing iTunes, and the checks were beyond belief. Suddenly, they were looking at a seven-figure income. Monthly.

Hilda told herself it wasn’t success that made her so grateful to Mel. She finally felt love in its true and unselfish form. In her mind, there had crystallized one thought: make it up to Mel. Give her what she wants.

So now, at last, she was ready. With Mel waiting and the entire world watching, Hilda turned onto the street where the group home was located. Ten carloads of paparazzi followed.

She strode down the block, pushing reporters and camera crews aside. She marched up onto the weathered porch of the big old house, where she was greeted by a hard-faced man backed by two large teenagers and what looked to her like a Great Dane with filed teeth.

“You need to leave him alone. Let him get his bearings.”

“I want to hear him tell me that.” She shouted, “Beresford, dammit, get out here!”

The manager stepped in front of the door. “Ma’am—”

“Don’t you
ma’am
me, little man.”

The dog started barking, a series of great, roaring woofs. She glared him down, then stepped across the porch, brushed past them all, and entered the house.

“Beresford! Beresford, it’s Mom. Where are you?”

Silence. To her right, there was an empty living room; to her left, a family room where the TV was on. A CNN reporter was yammering into the camera about Melody.

“BERESFORD!”

The manager had come in behind her. “Ma’am, this is private property!”

She marched upstairs and went from bedroom to bedroom.

She found him about where she’d expected to, hiding in the back of a closet with the door closed.

His big eyes looked up at her, full of fear but also the power she’d seen in him before. This was an unusual person, but not a weak one. In fact, he was incredibly strong. This kid had raised himself in the damn walls of a building. He was resourceful and highly intelligent.

“Come on, Robbie,” she said gently. “Mel’s frantic. We’ve got to get you back to the hospital.”

Three cops came piling into the room. “Excuse me, ma’am,” one of them said. “There’s been a complaint. I’m afraid—”

Hilda turned and looked up at the cop. Why was everybody else in the world so damn gigantic? Well, shortness hadn’t stopped Napoleon, and it wasn’t going to stop her.

“Come on, Robbie,” she said.

“Ma’am, you can’t do this. This boy is an unidentified ward of Los Angeles County.”

“Your information is out of date, officer. This boy’s name is Robert James Langdon. His parents are dead, and if you call Child Protective Services, you’ll find that Hilda Cholworth has been awarded kinship care on the basis of the fact that I’m so damn pushy the judge was afraid to say no.” She dragged Beresford out of the closet. “Come on. We’re going back to Mel, and don’t tell me you’re scared because I won’t listen.”

She didn’t say it, but she was scared, too, as she led him out into the mob of journalists.

But the mob scene she was anticipating didn’t happen. At least, not at first. This was because the appearance of this tall boy with his otherworldly eyes, rippling muscles, and shining hair simply stunned them to silence.

The press and the public had glimpsed him before but had never seen him up close, and it was an unforgettable experience. His eyes were big, and the way he used them reminded Hilda of the steady gaze of a tiger with the sweetness of a kitten. He was jammed into a T-shirt and jeans, but you could see the rippling athleticism of his muscles. His appearance told you at once that this was no ordinary person—this was somebody very special. If ever you could say there was such a thing as a magical being, that’s what he was.

In other words, a perfect fit for her golden daughter.

All at the same moment, the mob of journalists seemed to snap out of the trance. Flashes exploded, questions were shouted, video cameramen backed up before them as they moved toward the car.

The manager stood behind them on the porch with his hands on his hips.

“I’m gonna see Melody again?” Beresford asked.

“You are. In fact, you’re gonna see a lot of her. I’m on your side, Robbie.”

“Is that my name?”

“You’ll remember more in time. You’re suffering from something called traumatic amnesia.”

“Do you know anything about my dad and mom? Where I lived?”

She was silent, wanting him to be with Mel again first, then later to begin the painful process of remembering his childhood terror. He had lost a lot. He had lost everything. But he’d found love, and that would heal him.

In the hospital, Beresford grew wary. He didn’t like elevators, hallways, or crowds.

They came to Melody’s room. He went up to the door. Then he turned and gave Mom a questioning look.

“Go ahead.”

“She’s not busy?”

“You crazy kid, for you she’s
never
busy!”

Still he stood there, unsure.

“Oh, fer—” She opened the door and pushed him in, then followed.

Mel lit up and threw her arms toward him, wincing from pain but doing it anyway. Her beloved Beresford bent to her and embraced her, and over his shoulder, Mel’s eyes met her mom’s. In them, Hilda saw the spark of gratitude that every parent longs to see. They’d fight again, no doubt, but right now the moment was perfect, and for that Hilda was grateful.

She put her plastic cigarette in her mouth and went down to the hospital cafeteria, where she had spent so many hours. She drank a cup of coffee and thought long thoughts of the way life goes, how lovers find each other in all kinds of strange ways.

When she went back upstairs, Mel was asleep in her bed, and Beresford was in the big chair beside her.

Hilda cried a little, watching them in their innocent peace.

Melody stirred, then woke up and held out her hand. Hilda reached for it, but Beresford took it instead.

For a moment, she wanted to push him aside, but she stopped herself.

This was their time, and what might come in their lives and their life together was not her business.

It was a hard thing to accept, but she did. Neither of them noticed her; they were too involved in each other.

But as she left, Melody suddenly broke their embrace.

“Mom, thank you,” she said. “You gave us a chance.”

“Thank you,” Beresford repeated.

Hilda left them to each other, and to the future she could hardly even imagine would be theirs.

A
BOUT THE AUTHOR

W
HITLEY
S
TRIEBER
is one of the great names in science fiction. He is the bestselling author of many books, including
Communion
,
The Wolfen
,
The Hunger
, and
Critical Mass
. Several of his books have been made into major films.
Melody Burning
is the first novel he has written for young adult readers.

He and his wife and collaborator, Ann Strieber, divide their time between California, New York, and Texas.