None of it was coming out right, but Freddy wasn’t paying attention anyway. His focus was back on his computer screen. He hunched over his keyboard, the screen’s pale light washing over his face.
She left the puppies on the floor and went to Freddy’s chair, leaning over his shoulder. “Since portals are boring you, I’m dying to know what has you so fascinated.”
“Right here,” he said, tapping the screen. He was looking at the website for the Cosmology Institute of Florida. “Do you see my name? Under enrollment status, it no longer says ‘Your application is under review.’”
Under Freddy’s name was the text “Your application has been processed.”
“That’s why you’re in such a crappy mood?” Anna asked. “Because you didn’t get into space school?”
He looked at her like she was being deliberately obtuse.
“As I was saying,” Anna said, “Saul, the real estate guy, was supposedly forced to make the portals by this nasty entity he conjured up as a kid.”
Freddy sighed. “A Bloomtown real estate agent. Yep, that seems like the exact type of guy to make inter-dimensional portals.”
She elbowed him playfully. “Are you, perchance, being a wiseass?”
Ignoring her, Freddy pushed his chair back and walked to his bookshelf with the ponderous movements of a tired old man. He wiped his finger through a layer of dust on the bottom shelf.
A part of him was desperate to shake off the darkness consuming him. It was Anna, after all, the girl he loved, had always loved. But another part of him was furious at her, and himself, the kind of fury that deadened that love, and maybe that was a good thing.
Freddy looked at the tip of his finger, at the remnants of his hair and skin that lined the bookshelf in a fine dust. He was being processed, all right, and one day he’d be reduced to worm food. The thought brought him a strange peace. Nature was never dusty. You never saw dust in the forest.
Anna felt doubly relieved despite Freddy’s sour mood. He had a reason to be in a funk, and he wasn’t leaving New Jersey. Yet he clearly wanted to leave her and Dor behind. Freddy appeared utterly devastated to be stuck in Bloomtown. She tried to empathize, but instead her jaw tightened.
“Are you checking out on me, is that it?” Anna asked, standing by the door, arms crossed. “Already mentally in Florida, or wherever it is you can’t wait to escape to?”
Freddy made a noise as he turned to her. It might have been a laugh, but one choked with bitterness. “You are accusing me,” he said, “of checking out on you?”
There was more venom in his voice then she’d ever heard from him before. She took a step back, putting distance between herself and Freddy’s unfamiliar, dull eyes.
“Why are you still here?” he said. “You want my help with your dad’s stupid detective work, is that it? Did it ever occur to you, Anna, that I don’t care about the problems that your freak of a father digs up? Whatever’s wrong with Bloomtown, it’s probably his fault. It’s probably your fault, too. I think you know that, deep down, don’t you? That’s why you punish yourself and fall for losers like Craig Shine.”
Enraged, Anna searched for something to hurt him just as much.
“At least I let myself fall for somebody,” she said, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. “I bet you haven’t even kissed a girl. I bet that’s why you want to run away.”
“Wrong, dumb ass. But I suppose you think whoring around with Hastings made you an expert. Is that it, Goblin Girl?”
“Screw you.” Anna’s hand was on his keyboard. She pulled her arm back, wanting to rip it out of the PC, but it was wireless. Undeterred, she threw it at his bookshelf, hitting a globe bookend that crashed to the floor and broke in half. They were breathing hard and staring at each other when Gloria yelled from downstairs.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Mom!”
There was a glimpse of softness in his eyes—or maybe it was desperation—asking her for forgiveness, and for something more than that.
“Anna.”
“Forget it,” she said, so unnerved that she flicked the light switch off on her way out of the room, leaving him alone in the darkness.
Freddy went to the window thinking he’d open it and call out to Anna, but his leaden arms were too heavy to perform such a feat. Instead, he watched the aurora borealis twist through the atmosphere, wishing he could float so easily through space. Space was clean. It was as old as time, but always new and never dusty. It would take a human life, all of its greedy wants and needs, and reduce it to an empty husk, to less than nothing. A thought rose up, buoyant, from the great weight inside him. You are nothing.
Anna was right. He wanted to run away and had never kissed a girl. She was gone now and would never come back, not this time, not after what he’d said to her. He was afraid and thought about opening his door and calling for his mom. But he was too old to cry to Mommy like a spineless little shit. What would he say? Help me, Mommy. What’s my purpose if not to be with Anna? How pathetic.
Besides, Freddy didn’t think his parents believed in a purpose, or a God. Don't put your faith in sky monsters, his father had said once during Passover, at an elaborate Seder at his uncle’s house. Then why do we do this? Freddy asked him. It was a ritual, his father said, a tradition important to strengthen bonds between family and community. So, there was no God? His father had shrugged. Who knew? Freddy was disappointed that his father didn’t believe, betrayed even, but he was just a stupid kid.
Freddy went to his bed, unable to withstand the burden of his body weight any longer. He stared up at the picture on his wall of him, Dor and Anna camping in his backyard. He was shorter than Anna then, but his curly hair was spectacularly overgrown, giving him a few extra inches. Freddy watched as his image began to fade. He was disappearing. He looked at his open closet, his eyes drawn to the single tie he owned, dangling from a wire hanger. He’d worn it to a memorial dinner for his great-grandmother, Edie.
Edie had died in a concentration camp in Poland in 1942. Freddy had seen pictures of her before the war. When she smiled, the left side of her mouth drooped a little. Edie used to sew dresses for all the girls in the neighborhood. She’d always wanted a baby girl but only had time to have Freddy’s grandfather.
We’re the real demons, Freddy thought. There was nothing as horrible as the human race in all of existence. Genocide. Torture. The thing that killed Anna’s mother was small potatoes compared to the evil humanity inflicted on itself.
He could hear the puppies playing with their tennis ball. He knew that he should get up and play with them, but his body was too dense. Gravity held him down. He was too busy being processed.
Freddy squeezed his eyes shut, holding them closed as his heart and head pounded. They’d be better off without him, his family, Anna, Doreen, the vicious hateful world. He opened his eyes and saw the tie for what it could be, saw that he could knot it in such a way that it would tighten against the slightest pull of his horrible, crushing body weight. An ugliness inside him jeered. Another way to float! Outside Freddy’s window, the aurora borealis slithered across the sky.
PART THREE
Another Manic Monday
Chapter Sixteen
A Not So Special Episode
When Anna came downstairs on Monday morning, freshly primped, Geneva was at the kitchen table studying the list of portals that Saul had scribbled out yesterday. Geneva had insisted on spending the night on the couch in the unlivable living room, too unnerved to sleep in her bedroom back at the office.
“Your dad’s upstairs funneling holy water,” Geneva said, giving Anna an appreciative once-over.
Anna had put extra effort into her eye makeup that morning, following tips from a beauty magazine: Curl your lashes and open up those smoky eyes—be mysterious and approachable! She was wearing her sexiest skinny jeans and a pale pink sweater with a low scoop neck. She couldn’t wait to see Craig.
“There's a boy,” Geneva said.
Anna blushed as she poured herself a glass of water. Was it that obvious? She rummaged through the cabinet above the sink, trying to find something, anything, that wasn’t expired. She came upon a dusty box of granola bars that were only a month past due. Good enough. She joined Geneva at the table.
Geneva rested her chin in her palms and leaned forward. “Freddy?”
“No!”
“He seems like one of the good ones.”
Anna bristled. After last night, the last person she wanted to talk about was Freddy. And there it was again, the pounding in her head followed by a dull rage. How would Geneva know anything about “the good ones?” She’d married a cheating jerk. Anna didn’t need Geneva telling her about Freddy. The woman was a turf invader.
Anna worked to suppress her cynicism, attributing it to the last vestiges of electromagnetic mist in the air. Once the rest of the portals got a proper holy water dousing, Bloomtown should return to its usual boring, uneventful state. But she would still be Goblin Girl, of course, Daughter of a Freak.
Geneva was peering at her, eyebrows raised, wanting to hear more. Why was she so interested? Did Geneva want Freddy to be her little protégé or something? Anna bit down on her cheek. She was being ridiculous. The woman was only being friendly.
“May I?” Anna asked, and picked up the portal list from the table. Neither Freddy nor Dor’s address were noted on it, which was both a relief and disappointment. Freddy’s hatefulness toward her last night was likely genuine. She recognized a couple names, but they were no one she was close to. But then again, who was she close to besides Freddy and Dor? Correction, besides Dor.
“Speaking of goodies,” Anna said. “What happened when you found—what’s-his-name, the jerk—hooking up with his student?”
Geneva’s mouth tightened.
“I’m sorry,” Anna said. “It’s none of my business.” She dug a nail into her thigh to keep herself under control.
“Don’t be silly.” Geneva waved her hand, brushing away any need for an apology. “We didn’t break it off right away. I gave him a second chance, which, in retrospect, was pretty dumb.” Geneva took her elbows off the table and placed them on her lap, out of sight. “He promised that it was over, but it wasn’t.”
“Well, you’re not in jail, so I take it you didn’t kill them.”
Geneva’s laughter fell flat when she saw that Anna was serious.
“I got—” Geneva paused. “I'm getting through it. It took some time. My meditation practice helps a lot.”
“Is that what you were doing when Freddy and I busted into your room?” An image surfaced in Anna’s mind of Geneva meditating on her bed, the air around her somehow brighter than the rest of the room.
Geneva nodded. “It takes a little time to settle into a meditation, but you can start by slowing your breath and observing your thoughts instead of identifying with them. In other words, the thoughts are not you. You are what’s observing them. Does that make sense?”
“Kind of. But is that all there is to it?”
“That’s it,” Geneva said. “Focus on your breath and let your thoughts move on down the road. A little moon bathing is always good as well, to help you go deeper.”
“Moon bathing?” Anna’s tone was a bit on the obnoxious side, but she couldn’t help it.
“Moon. Bathing.” Geneva said each word slowly, as if growing wary of Anna’s attitude. “Moonlight is crucial for us girls. It renews our spiritual power, always has.”
“How come I didn’t know about it, then?”
Geneva laughed dryly. “They won’t teach it to you in school,” she said, “but it’s still there, hidden in the rosebushes, as my mother used to say.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ll try and summarize it for you,” Geneva said. “Once religion and the idea of God became more male-focused and controlled, knowledge of moon bathing, or really anything alluding to the feminine divine, was violently repressed. Nature and female-based religions were considered a threat to the church’s authority and vilified. The wise old holy woman that the village revered became the hideous old hag, the evil witch stirring her cauldron. I’ll give you some books if you’re interested.”
Anna was. It ticked her off that divine women, healers, were persecuted for their power. As Goblin Girl, she could relate. Not that Goblin Girl had any power.
“How does it work, moon bathing?”
“We don’t know,” Geneva said. “Or maybe we did once and then forgot.” She shrugged. “It affects every woman differently, I suppose. For me, it helped calm my mind during meditation, very peaceful, but rejuvenating, too. You should give it a try and find out for yourself. All you need to do is let the light of the moon touch your skin.”
They heard Jack trundling down the steps and Anna felt a twinge of disappointment. Geneva had good vibes, and Anna needed some of that mojo right about now. But she’s only being nice to you because she has the hots for your dad, the evil, pulsating voice of her headache said. Are you that desperate for a mommy?
Jack emerged from the path and into the kitchen. He was clean-shaven and wearing his “special occasion” khakis. Anna cringed and looked down at the cleavage peeking through her scoop neck sweater. The two of them were like some kind of sitcom with a fake laugh track spitting out canned hysterics every seven seconds. This was the very special episode of Harry the Hoarder where father and daughter both have a crush, but they don’t want each other to know, and it creates a big and riotous misunderstanding!
Jack placed the jug of holy water he held on the table. “This should be good for about six portals. Do you have Saul's list?”
Geneva took the list back from Anna. “Got it,” she said.
“We're going to make a run to a few churches,” he said to Anna, “see if we can score more holy water. I want to cover all twelve portals today, so it’ll be a late night. Call my cell if you need me. Keep trying if you don’t get through right away. The solar storms are supposed to be going out with quite a bang over the next few days—strongest flares yet by far—so reception will be spotty.”
A part of Anna wanted to tag along and help them decimate the portals, but the pull of Craig Shine was more powerful. Besides, maybe with Geneva around, she wouldn’t need to babysit her dad anymore.
As soon as Geneva and Jack left, a silence filled the ever-shrinking nooks and crannies in the Fagan house. Anna put her backpack on and maneuvered her way to the entranceway, peering through the Mountain of Mail to the street outside. No Major Tom. Freddy wasn’t coming, not after what she’d said to him, or what he’d said to her. He and Dor were probably on their way to school already. Outside, a spattering of freshmen walked by on their way to the bus stop. Anna sighed. She had no choice but to follow them there.
The moment she climbed the steps onto the idling yellow behemoth, she was overcome with the bus smell that she’d managed to avoid since Freddy got his driver’s license: body odor, stale lunch meat and hot vinyl. At least there were plenty of open seats. Anna chose one in the back.
Alone now and bouncing over Old Bloomtown potholes, she was hit with a stabbing sense of loss. Anna bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. Damned if she’d mess up her eye makeup after all the effort she put into it. This perma-PMS was exhausting. She and Freddy would get past their blowup. It’s not like he was dead, for frig’s sake. As for Doreen, things would work themselves out between her and her mom. Soon, the air in Bloomtown would clear of any trace of the brain-altering mist, and everyone would revert back to their saner selves.
But why was it so freakin’ quiet on the bus? Anna looked down the aisle. There were a lot of vacant seats. Half the bus was empty. Weirder still, none of the kids were yelling or even chatting with each other. It was silent except for a hushed murmuring from a nearby row. At least someone was making noise. Anna pulled herself up to get a better look. The murmuring was coming from two seats in front of her, on the opposite side of the bus. A red-haired sophomore—Anna didn�
��t know her name—was hugging her knees to her chest and whispering furiously to herself. Behind the sophomore, a sweat-drenched freshman was pulling out his eyebrows, carefully examining each one before placing them on his tongue.
Nauseated, Anna slid back down in her seat, massaging her temples as a fresh pressure thundered in her skull. The stale granola bar in her stomach threatened to make an appearance.
The bus arrived at Bloomtown High, and the urge to hurl became a whisper once she stepped into the fresh air. But once she entered the school, her hackles went up. Neither Freddy nor Doreen were waiting by her locker. Although she told herself that it was no big deal, she’d been hoping to tell Dor about the portals, to make a big joke about it so Dor wouldn’t get scared. Instead, Anna grabbed her first-period books, feeling exposed and vulnerable without her friends.
But when she spotted Craig across the hall, thoughts of anyone else vaporized, and a thrill bloomed in the base of her spine. Craig was leaning against the wall by the boy’s bathroom, looking down at his phone. His dark hair was tousled in perfect disarray, and his free hand was tinkering with a large chain hanging from a belt loop on his black skinny jeans. There weren’t that many kids around and the commons was quiet. He had to know she was looking at him, had to feel it. And then he did look up, his gaze unfocused. She smiled at him, but before she could wave he was already striding away. Had he purposefully ignored her? No. Why would he? She was being paranoid again. Anna walked to first period on shaky legs.
As the day dragged on, she realized that Freddy and Dor weren’t avoiding her: they had never shown up at school in the first place. And it wasn’t just them. There were too many absentees to play soccer in gym class, so the handful of kids that did come were forced to sit through a gruesome video about drunk driving. The sickest part was that Amanda Chessfield, a normally reserved junior, kept laughing at all the gory parts. Laughing hysterically, as in doubled over, couldn’t catch her breath, tears running down her face kind of laughing. Amanda didn’t stop until the frazzled substitute sent her to Steuben’s office.
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