The Devil’s Spawn
Sefira spent the better part of her afternoon on the computer trying to Google information about her mother’s whereabouts. It was amazing how much information you could find with a computer and an itch. She started with the last facility she’d heard her mother had been committed to. It would’ve been nice if she were still there, but of course, things were never that easy. Many bad numbers and voicemail messages later, she felt she had gotten no further than when she started. Frustrated, she returned to her bed and fiddled with her ballerina jewelry box. It was something she treasured, because it was her fourth birthday present, and one of the few things she still possessed that her birth mother had given her. She would never forget the day she received it.
All year she had been waiting patiently for her birthday to roll around. Birthdays were a top priority in Ms. June’s preschool class. Celebrity treatment was in store. Sefira’s fourth birthday was no exception. Upon her arrival, Ms. June fastened the “special birthday pin” to the front of her blouse and designated her as the official line leader of the day. Grinning from ear to ear, she wore her special badge of honor proudly and couldn’t wait to show it off to her mother. The class finished singing Happy Birthday, and she was urged to make a wish. Eyes shut, she wished that she could stay in Akron, Ohio, forever and eat mushy chocolate cupcakes covered in pink frosting—like the one she was about to devour. That day, she realized that wishes don’t always come true. Her mother arrived at her school in the middle of her birthday bash and pulled her aside to talk.
“Mommy, why?” Sefira’s little voice cracked as tears tumbled down her face.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mommy met another bad man, so we have to leave now. Say goodbye to your friends.”
Sefira couldn’t bring herself to do it—to say goodbye to Ms. June, her all-time favorite teacher. Nor did she want to leave her bestie Madison, who had been studying Sefira’s expressions from across the room. Right now, Madison looked like she wanted to give her a hug. Sefira knew she’d never get the chance. She quickly wiped her tears away and waved goodbye; she even managed a weak smile before they hurried out of the preschool. When they got home her mother had already packed all of their belongings. Sefira noticed a trace of sadness on her mother’s face. “Honey, I almost forgot. This is for you.” Her mother handed over a beautiful cream jewelry box adorned in gold hearts and pink and lilac flowers. When she opened it, a brown ballerina spun to the most beautiful tune she’d ever heard. “Do you like it? When I saw it, it reminded me of you and I just had to have it.”
Sefira nodded and managed a smile, even though she was crumbling on the inside, like her cupcake.
“Now, whatever you do, don’t lose it.” Her mother knelt down to Sefira’s level, placing her hands on Sefira’s shoulders. “Promise me you will never lose it. Our lives could depend upon it.” Her eyes looked grave.
“Sure Mommy,” Sefira nodded. “I promise.”
Sefira shifted on the bed still fiddling with the box. Even amidst the chaos and the whirlwind craziness that was her mother, Delilah, in her strange way, did loved her. That much she was certain of.
Sefira heard the front door open and close downstairs. She glanced at her clock on the nightstand, which read 5:17. That’s probably Celeste. Fira stretched across her bed to return the jewelry box to her nightstand and clumsily missed the table. Right away, her heart dropped. The bed creaked under her weight as she scrambled to break the box’s fall. Her arm flailed intending to make a catch when the box came to an unexpected halt mid-air. What the… Slowly she sat up, trying not to break her concentration. She moved her hand and the jewelry box followed. Her eyes widened. No freakin’ way.
For the next few minutes she was in absolute awe. She looked like a choir director, raising and lowering her arms and bringing them to and fro, a wide grin plastered on her face. It didn’t take long for her to master those movements. She was working on making it spin when Carli burst through the room.
“Fira, can I borrow your…”
Sefira lost her concentration. The box fell immediately and would have hit the ground had she not caught it just in time. Sefira and Carli stood transfixed for what seemed like an eternity. Neither one of them knew what to say. Sefira broke the silence.
“I can explain.”
“Can you?” Carli raised an eyebrow, leaning on the doorknob. “An explanation would be really good right about now.”
“Can you just come in? Shut the door, please.” Carli hesitated. “It’s cool—just come in.” Carli followed suit, shutting the door behind her. “Is mom here?”
“Yeah, she’s downstairs. But never mind her. Did I just see what I think I saw?” asked Carli, glancing at the box.
“Yeah, you did,” Sefira answered, placing it on the nightstand and taking a seat on the edge of her bed.
Carli’s eye’s widened. “How did you do that?” She grabbed the chair from Sefira’s desk and parked herself next to her.
Sefira shrugged, glad that finally, someone she knew could attest to the fact that this was real. It wasn’t all in her heard. “Honestly, I have no idea. I was playing with the box, and it just sort of happened.”
“Let me see it.” Carli’s eyes glistened.
Sefira handed it over and Carli inspected it, turning it upside down and looking inside. Sefira closed her eyes. Should she do this? She’d be taking a huge risk—but then again, somebody had to know.
“It’s not the box,” Sefira exclaimed.
Carli looked up, brows knitted. “What are you saying? It’s you?” She laughed, hair falling back.
“Yeah,” answered Sefira. “It is me.” It was the first time that Sefira really acknowledged the truth, and as weird as it sounded, it felt good.
Carli’s interest was totally piqued now. “You’re telling me that you can move things? You’re like, what do they call those people?”
“Telekinetic, I think,” answered Sefira.
Carli’s eyes widened. “No sh—”
Sefira slapped her arm before she could get the rest of that out. Then came the questions.
“How long have you known this?”
Sefira shrugged, shifting her weight on the bed. “I don’t know, it’s hard to say. I mean, weird things started happening within the past couple weeks and then today, it sort of happened by accident.”
“Do it again.” Carli was all smiles now.
“I don’t even know if I can do it again. It may have been a fluke.”
“Just try.”
Sefira gave her a dry look. “Okay.” She concentrated, and once again the box responded, rising ever so slowly. With a wave, it circled around her bedroom and at one point she made it freeze mid-air. Then she sent it in Carli’s direction, landing carefully in her hands.
“That is illmatic.” Carli responded. “Wait till mom and Randall see this.”
“No—wait,” she took the box away from Carli and placed it on her bed. “We definitely can’t show Randall, he’s already convinced I’m the devil’s spawn. And believe it or not, I’ve spoken to mom about this already.”
“Really? What’d she say?”
“She thinks I need a shrink.” She moved her box aside and pulled her sister over to sit next to her. “Carli, mom isn’t ready for this. She’s got too much on her plate already. I don’t want to make things worse.”
“She’ll understand, just come with me ” Carli started pulling Sefira by the arm.
“No, please don’t. I need to figure out what’s going on and I need to do it without distraction. You can’t tell anybody, and I mean anybody, about this. Do you understand?”
“Fira,” she said, placing both hands on Sefira’s shoulders, zeroing in on her eyes. “Do you understand how much TMZ would be willing to pay for something like this?” Her hands went up as if to say “duh.” “We’re talking serious dough here.” Pointing a finger into Fira’s chest, she continued, “You’d be famous, then I’d be famous cause I’m your si
ster and I’m cute, and then comes the reality show—we’ll make a killing.”
Sefira shot her an exasperated look, suddenly remembering that as mature as Carli was, she was still a 7th grader. She hoped telling her wasn’t a mistake. Carli must’ve picked up on her feelings.
“Okay, okay, Potter,” she said, using her best British accent, “your secret’s safe with me…for now.”
“Carli—”
“Fine. I won’t say anything. Promise. So, what are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to get to the bottom of it one way or another.”
“Let me help you.”
“No, I don’t want you involved. This could be dangerous, okay? The only thing I want you to do is to keep quiet.”
Carli sighed, kicking the chair. “Alright.”
They both jumped at a knock on Sefira’s door.
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
Celeste poked her head through. “You have company.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s your friend, Codero.”
“Codero? You mean Kaetano?”
“Yeah, that’s him,” Celeste answered. “He’s at the door.”
“What’s he doing here?” asked Carli. Sefira gave her an elbow.
“I was gonna ask the same thing, actually,” added Sefira.
Celeste placed a hand on her hip. “I don’t know. Do you want me to tell him you’ll give him a call later?”
Sefira glanced at Carli. “No.” Interlocking her fingers, she placed them atop her head. “I’ll handle it, thanks.” She feigned a smile.
“Oh, and Zada’s called the house phone five times. Why don’t you give her a call back?” asked Celeste.
“I will, I will. I just need a little breather.”
“Well at least do me a favor and give her your cell number so I don’t have to hear the phone ring every twenty minutes.” Celeste shut the door. My cell phone. So much for that.
“Alright.” Sefira patted Carli on the back. “Time for you to go, sis.”
Carli stood up. “You’re going to fraternize at a time like this?” she asked, lips puckered.
“I don’t know.” Sefira leaned back on her elbows. “I just need some time to think.”
“I get it. I’ll leave you alone.” Carli stopped to look at herself in the mirror, teasing her bangs before leaving. The door closed behind her as she exited, but not before she whispered “TMZ.”
Sefira walked over to her mirror and spruced herself up. Great timing, dude. She smoothed her long braids out and peered out her window. For a fall day, it looked like summer. Using her thumb, she unlatched her window and stuck her arm outside. Felt like summer too. Whoever said climate change didn’t exist was out of their tree. She changed into a t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. After a final once-over she headed for the front door.
As soon as the door swung open, Kaetano’s kind brown eyes began to work on her and melt the confusion and apprehension she’d felt just a short time earlier. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, blue t-shirt rippling under the breeze.
They stood there. Sefira in the doorway, clutching the handle, and Kaetano outside. His Timberlands squeaked as he repositioned himself on the porch, scratching his head.
“Yeah. I just came by to check on you because you weren’t at school today. Hope I’m not intruding. ”
“No, not at all.” Another brief and awkward break in the conversation ensued. The birds chirping in the distance seemed to have more to say than they did.
“You came all the way over here to see if I was okay?”
“Yeah. I would’ve called you but seeing as how I don’t have your number….” Kaetano smiled, shoving his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans.
“Oh,” Sefira said, pressing her lips together. Silence followed as a small smile stretched across her face.
“So, uh—do you need some medicine or something?”
“No, I’m not sick.” She swatted at a fly that was trying to get inside the house. “I just needed a little break, that’s all.”
“Do you want me to pick up something for you?” Kaetano asked.
“No, that’s sweet, but I’m fine.” She gave her best “I’m fine” look.
“Okay, so—you’re good?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
He looked so awkward just standing there like that. Sefira felt kind of bad, even though he did drop by unannounced. “Okay…well guess I’ll get goin’. See you Saturday.” Kaetano winked and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
“Yeah?” He turned around.
“About this weekend. I don’t think I’m going to be able to swing that after all.”
“Oh.” He averted his eyes then looked back at her. “Listen, Sefira…you know it’s fine if you don’t want to go out.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s not that at all.” She leaned on the door a little. “I was actually looking forward to hanging out.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Okay….”
“It’s just that something came up, so I don’t think it’ll work.”
“Oh.” He paused. “But you still want to go out, though?”
“Yes, I just can’t make it Saturday.”
“Well, what are you doing right now?”
“Now?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Well—I don’t know, I’m not exactly ready….”
“You’re perfect. You said you needed a break, right? Maybe take your mind off things? Well hey, I’m your man.”
“Well—um.” She stood, contemplating.
“Look, whatever’s bugging you isn’t going to get any better by sitting around the house.”
“Well….”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll wait here while you think about it.” He sat down on the steps of the porch as if he were prepared to sit for hours.
Sefira rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll come. Just a sec.” Slowly she shut the front door, leaving her friend outside. Her chest contracted as she inhaled long and slow, leaning against the door, smiling.
“Sefira, everything okay?” asked Celeste.
“Yeah.” She straightened up. “Do you mind if I hang out with Kaetano for a little while?”
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “You…sure you’re ready to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you probably need to get out. Just make sure you come back at a reasonable time—for real this time.” She started to walk off and then stopped again. “I’m going to need his plate numbers before you go.”
“Seriously?”
“Just kidding. I already have them. Go ahead, have fun.”
“Okay.” Sefira went to her room and grabbed her purse. After dotting her lips with clear gloss she was out.
“Where are we going?” Sefira inquired, intrigued as she made her way down the walkway towards Kaetano’s car.
He opened the passenger side door for her as he exclaimed, “Let’s just—drive.” After she sat down, he shut the door behind her. Jogging to the opposite side of the car, he hopped in, revved the engine and sped off.
Bliss
The black leather seats felt cool against Sefira’s legs as she stretched them just a little. She glanced in Kaetano’s direction and he looked back at her; they both smiled at one another. He grabbed his cell phone and hooked it up to his radio, then reached over and flipped his radio on. Loud bass thudded through the airwaves. He turned the music down a little.
“You think your mom is okay with us going out?” he asked, one hand on the steering wheel.
“Sure,” she answered, arms folded.
“I don’t know if she likes me too much.”
“Of course, she likes you, she just…has to get to know you. What makes you think that?”
“Well I could’ve sworn that she was writing down my plate numbers from the living room window.” They both laughed.
“That’s Celeste. She means well, don’t take i
t personal.”
“No, I get it. She’s got to look out for you.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I used to be annoyed by it, but I’m starting to get where she’s coming from.”
Sefira glanced out the passenger side window as they passed a local park. She watched as a light wind weaved its way through swaying green trees, causing leaves to rain down on a child’s plate; upsetting the fisherman’s hat sitting atop a little boy’s head.
“I can see why people love southern California so much,” Sefira commented, “it’s beautiful out.”
“It is, isn’t it? I remember days like this back in Oklahoma. My grandmother used to make Sun Tea—she still does sometimes, best sun tea this side of the Mississippi. We used to go swimming, fishing, hunting—I loved it out there.”
“You really are a country boy?”
“Yes ma’am. I really miss those days.”
“You ever go back? To like, you know, visit family?”
“Um, no.” He shifted a little in his seat. “There’s nobody back there to visit.”
Sefira’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you said your grandmother was out there?”
“Yeah,” he smiled. “You’re right.” He drummed the steering wheel. “My grandmother passed away.”
“Oh, sorry.” She was still confused. “I just thought you said that she still makes tea sometimes.”
He stroked his chin. “My mom makes it, actually. It was my grandmother’s recipe.” He looked at her and she sensed some anxiety, so she decided to drop the subject.
“These your CDs?” She nodded toward a small case atop the center console.
“Yep.”
“Can I take a look?” she asked.
“Be my guest.”
She grabbed the case, thumbing slowly through the titles. “You hardly see these anymore.”
“What?”
“CDs. Nobody uses them anymore,” she said as she continued to sift. “Nat King Cole’s Greatest Hits? You really are an old soul.”
For Blood & Glory Page 21
