Cemetery Boys

by Aiden Thomas

  Julian let out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “So, I guess I give in.”

  “Give in to what?”

  “We can go see Rio tomorrow.”

  Yadriel turned to look at him. He didn’t look very pleased. “Really?”

  “Only to see if he knows anything, if the cops called him or whatever, and to grab one of my shirts,” Julian said firmly. “And just to…” He trailed off. “I don’t know. Just to make sure he’s okay, before I leave.”

  Those last few words halted Yadriel’s thoughts.

  Before he left.

  That’s right. This was all so Yadriel could release Julian to the afterlife. Where he would stay, because Julian was just a normal boy. When he crossed over, that would be that. He wasn’t a brujo. There would be no ofrenda to welcome him back during Día de Muertos. For Julian, death was finite. When his dad died, he didn’t get to see him again. And now, Julian’s friends and his brother would never see him again, either.

  “All things considered,” Yadriel ventured, “you’re taking this whole being-dead thing pretty well.”

  Julian exhaled a small laugh. “I don’t know, I never expected to live that long, anyways,” he confessed.

  Yadriel didn’t know what to say. There was something so profoundly sad in how casually he said it.

  “But I was thinking more like thirty, never really pictured myself older than that,” he explained. “Sixteen minus a couple weeks seems a bit young.” His lips tilted into a crooked smile. “The ghost part was definitely a surprise.” Julian rolled onto his side, propping the side of his face in his hand. “Can I possess you?”

  A surprised laugh bucked in Yadriel chest. “No. You’re thinking demons.”

  “I mean, it’s getting closer to Día de Muertos, right? You said us dead folks get stronger around then.” Julian leaned over him, eyes narrowed, his face only a few inches away.

  Yadriel could see the faint shadow along his jaw. There was a tiny scar on his right eyebrow.

  “If I concentrate really hard…” His finger hovered above Yadriel. “Could I touch you?”

  Heat flooded Yadriel’s face. His chest fluttered dangerously. “I don’t think so, Jules.” A shaky laugh quaked his words.

  Dimples cut deep into Julian’s cheeks. He tipped his head to the side. “Why not?”

  “Not enough brainpower.”

  Julian’s laugh was open and unabashed. “Ssh, stop!” he ordered through his chuckles. “I’m concentrating!”

  He shook out his hand before hovering it over Yadriel again. Julian’s face scrunched up, lips parted.

  Yadriel held his breath. His fingers knotted into the blanket under him. A thrill tickled down his spine to the tips of his toes. It was disorienting, filling his head with dangerous thoughts. He wanted to feel Julian’s hands ghosting over his skin. Wondered what Julian’s short hair would feel like under his fingertips, what his skin would smell like, or if his lips felt as soft as they looked.

  But it was silly and stupid, because you couldn’t touch dead boys, and they couldn’t touch you back.

  Julian lowered his hand, and for a moment, nothing happened.

  “See?” Yadriel exhaled. The yearning ache devoured the hope in his chest. “You—”

  But then he felt it. The shiver of the medal against his throat. The brush of an—admittedly, cold—finger across his skin.

  Yadriel sucked in a gasp and clamped his hand over his neck.

  Julian jerked back. “Did you feel it?” he asked, eyes wide.

  “I did!”

  “Yes!” Julian’s smile was brilliant.

  They both broke out into laughter. The fluttery, half-delirious sort that made Yadriel feel a little drunk.

  “See?” Julian jutted his chin to a proud angle.

  Yadriel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “I told you, I—”

  But Julian never finished his sentence. For a second, he froze.

  “Jules?” Yadriel started to sit up.

  Julian sucked in a deep, rattling breath. He collapsed back onto the bed.

  Purrcaso sprang from the window and darted out of sight.

  Yadriel pushed himself up. His heart hammered in his chest. “Hey, what’s happening—?”

  Julian’s jaw went slack, his mouth open wide. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his entire body spasmed. No, it wasn’t spasming, it was shaking, vibrating. Julian flickered in and out of existence, like a light shorting out.

  “Jules!” Yadriel’s hands hovered above him, not knowing what to do or what was happening. All he could do was watch as Julian’s body flashed in and out of existence.

  It took him a moment to see the red stain on the chest of Julian’s white shirt. It started as a dark smudge, but it slowly bloomed larger, appearing in flashes.

  More quivering. Just a shadow of Julian.

  Then he disappeared and didn’t come back.

  Yadriel heart lodged in his throat.

  “Jules!”

  His eyes frantically searched the bed. Yadriel fumbled, pressing his hands against the mattress as if he could feel him there, that maybe Julian was just invisible, but he was gone. There was nothing. Not even a wash of cold against his fingers.

  Just as quickly as he’d vanished, Julian blinked back into existence. A gasp ripped through his throat and his eyes flew open.

  Yadriel sprang back, nearly falling off the bed.

  Julian sucked in breath, his hand clutching his shirt where the blood seeped. But then he started to fade.

  It was like someone had cranked down his saturation and opacity. Julian seemed duller now, his edges slightly more blurred than before. The red stain faded to nothing.

  “What—what the hell happened?” Julian heaved, breathless.

  Yadriel could only shake his head.

  “What was that?” Panic cracked his voice.

  Yadriel stared down at his hands. They trembled uncontrollably. “I—I don’t know.”

  FOURTEEN

  “You—you disappeared!” Yadriel stared at Julian, afraid to blink in case he vanished again. “Where did you go?!”

  Julian leaped from the bed. “I—I don’t know!” he stammered. He twisted left and right, patting himself down and inspecting his limbs.

  “You were bleeding.” Panic tightened his voice, and Yadriel hated how frightened he sounded, how frightened he felt.

  Julian pressed his hand to his chest and winced, like he could still feel it. “But why? What happened?” he demanded.

  Yadriel racked his brain, trying to remember everything he knew about spirits, but it was hard to focus. He kept seeing Julian’s contorted face and bleeding chest flash in his mind over and over again.

  “When—when spirits have been in the world of the living for too long, when they start going maligno, sometimes they’ll relive their death,” Yadriel said.

  “Did someone stab me?” Julian asked, his ghostly face deathly pale. “Did I get shot?”

  “But you only died yesterday,” Yadriel reasoned. He pushed his hands through his hair, trying to think. Some spirits turned maligno faster than others, but it had only been a day. “It shouldn’t be happening this quickly.”

  Julian sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and winced. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it to ever happen again.”

  “This isn’t good.”

  Julian’s worried eyes met his. “What does it mean?”

  “It means,” Yadriel said, “we’re running out of time.”

  Sleep was impossible.

  Yadriel lay perched on the edge of his bed, curled up on his side so he could see where Julian lay on the floor. Purrcaso curled up behind his knees. Julian’s back was to him, but there was no way he could be sleeping, either, was there? Every time Yadriel started to drift off, his body would jerk him back awake. He kept seeing Julian lying there, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, the blood seeping from the wound that must’ve killed him.

  What the hell was h
e supposed to do? Yadriel had only heard about spirits reliving their deaths the closer they got to turning maligno; he’d never witnessed it himself. His parents had always shielded him from that. When spirits in their cemetery went maligno, skilled brujos were dispatched to deal with it as quickly and humanely as possible.

  Yadriel had hundreds of questions, but no way of finding out. Brujx history relied on oral traditions, so it wasn’t like there was an encyclopedia where he could look up the answers. And he couldn’t ask someone why a spirit would turn so quickly without them getting suspicious.

  No, there was no one who he could turn to. They’d just have to get through it.

  The thought of forcibly releasing Julian to the other side, like he’d threatened that first night, was unthinkable now. Julian needed to hold on a little longer.

  If they could find his body, hopefully they could find Miguel and the others who had gone missing. If Yadriel could prove himself to the brujx, then they would have to let him be part of the aquelarre. Their deadline of Día de Muertos was looming. Halloween was the day after tomorrow, and at midnight, the first day of Día de Muertos would begin.

  * * *

  When his alarm went off in the morning, Yadriel was already awake. He waited, watching as Julian sat up. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “I’m starting to think ghosts don’t sleep,” Julian replied with a wry smile. He looked tired, of course, but there was something more to it. A glazed look cast over his eyes. An intense vigilance. Julian eyed Yadriel as he crawled out of bed and dragged himself to the closet. “I guess brujos don’t, either.”

  Yadriel grumbled unintelligibly. When he came back from taking a shower, he found Julian sitting at the foot of his bed. He wrung his hands together, digging his thumb into his palm. Worry caught in every line of his face.

  “Am I going to have to talk you into letting me go to school with you again?” Julian asked with an anxious laugh.

  “No,” Yadriel said, toying with the St. Jude pendant around his neck. “This time I want you to come.”

  He was more worried about Julian disappearing and reliving his death again. By the look on his face, Yadriel was pretty certain Julian was worried about the same thing. If he couldn’t stop it from happening, then he would at least make sure Julian wasn’t alone when it did. Yadriel didn’t want to come home and find the Julian he knew had vanished, leaving nothing but a horrifying apparition in his place.

  Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  Yadriel nodded, then shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him. “You can take it or leave it,” he said as he combed pomade through his hair.

  “Take!” Julian jumped to his feet. The worry was gone, and that electric grin was back. “Definitely take!”

  Julian waited impatiently by the door as Yadriel grabbed his stuff. He opened his backpack to take out his portaje and stash it while they were at school, but as he grabbed hold of the hilt, he hesitated.

  Again, the image of Julian convulsing and flickering haunted him. If it was a sign that Julian was slipping away, what if he lost his grip on himself while they were at school?

  Yadriel looked at Julian, an uneasy feeling churning his stomach.

  “Are you ready or what?” Julian huffed. He caught sight of the dagger in Yadriel’s hand and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were worried about getting caught with that thing at school?”

  If Julian went maligno, Yadriel would be forced to cut his tether and release his spirit before he hurt someone.

  “Better safe than sorry, right?” Yadriel said.

  Julian stared at him for a second, then shrugged. “Just don’t get caught, I don’t wanna spend the night with you in jail,” he told him.

  Yadriel tucked his portaje and its sheath into the waist of his jeans and pulled on his backpack.

  He listened carefully at the door and paused every couple of steps going down the stairs, but the house was silent and empty. That was odd, considering Lita was usually busy in the kitchen by now. He opened the front door, and Julian made a run for it.

  “FREEDOM!” he whooped, bounding down the front steps.

  Yadriel laughed and shook his head. Julian was in great spirits. Yadriel hesitated in the doorway and pulled his dagger out again. Did he really need it? Was it bad luck to assume the worst? Was he just welcoming something to go wrong by taking it to school? Maybe he should leave it—

  Before he could make a decision, the door to the garage opened and Lita walked into the kitchen.

  “I’ll make some food,” Lita said as she went to the stove.

  Tío Catriz and his dad walked into view, each of them carrying a large box. Yadriel froze, panic cementing his feet to the floor. The voice in his head screamed at him to make a run for it, but it was like his body was short-circuiting, refusing to budge.

  “Where should we put this?” his dad asked, his back to Yadriel.

  Tío Catriz turned and immediately locked eyes with Yadriel over Enrique’s shoulder.

  Tío Catriz’s face went from surprise to confusion. Before Yadriel could react, his gaze went to the portaje gripped in Yadriel’s hand.

  Yadriel’s heart dropped to the floor.

  Catriz had seen the dagger in his hand. He would recognize it as a portaje immediately.

  For a split second, his tío’s expression went blank as he stared at the blade, but then—

  Then he smiled.

  “Put them in the living room,” Lita instructed, waving a hand as she put a pan on the stove.

  Enrique started to turn toward the living room, where Yadriel remained rooted in the doorway, clutching his portaje.

  Yadriel was doomed. His dad was going to see him with his portaje, caught red-handed.

  A loud crash made everyone jump.

  The box Tío Catriz was holding had toppled out of his arms, spilling prayer candles and copal incense all over the kitchen floor.

  “Aye!” Lita gasped, clutching her chest.

  “Careful of the glass!” Yadriel’s dad warned as broken shards crunched under their shoes.

  “I’ll grab the broom!” Lita rushed to the garage.

  “Ah, lo siento, hermano,” Tío Catriz said as he and Yadriel’s dad bent down to pick up the larger pieces.

  “Don’t worry, we have plenty more,” Enrique reassured him.

  Snapping out of it, Yadriel quickly slipped his portaje back into its sheath.

  Tío Catriz caught his eye over his dad’s shoulder and gave him a small wink.

  Relief and gratitude flooded Yadriel. His tío had just saved his ass, and he didn’t even seem mad that Yadriel had a portaje. He looked—well, he looked proud, which was a sentiment Yadriel hadn’t been gifted in a very long time.

  He should’ve known that Tío Catriz would be on his side. He wanted to tell him everything, but right now wasn’t the time.

  As they picked up the broken pieces, Yadriel slipped out the front door and ran to the gate, where Julian and Maritza waited.

  “There you are,” Maritza sighed, pushing herself up from where she had been leaning against the gate. She wore a black puffy jacket and tight jeans, her hair pulled back in two short French braids.

  “Jesus, how are you so slow?!” Julian demanded, throwing his hands up. “I thought you were— Hey, what’s with the smile?”

  A huge grin plastered across Yadriel’s face, his head swimming. His heart felt ready to burst, and it hammered in his chest.

  “My family showed up,” Yadriel blurted out. “Tío saw my portaje—”

  Maritza’s eyes bulged. “What?”

  “Uh-oh,” Julian said, glancing back toward the house.

  “No, no, it’s okay!” Yadriel rushed to add, delirious laughter bubbling through his words. “I didn’t get in trouble! He even distracted Lita and my dad so I could get away without them seeing me!”

  Maritza shook her head in disbelief.

  Meanwhile, Julian grinned. “Awesome!”

  “He wa
s seriously chill about it?” Maritza asked, frowning. “Do you think he’s going to tell your dad?”

  “No, I don’t think so, he wouldn’t out me like that,” Yadriel said. Julian beamed back at him, but Maritza was uncharacteristically worried. “Seriously, Itza,” he said. “My tío gets me, he’s the only one who does—”

  Hurt flashed across her face.

  “Aside from you, of course!” he added quickly, giving her an affectionate nudge.

  “Are you going to tell him everything?” Maritza pressed, her delicately lined eyebrows tense with worry.

  “I mean, yeah, probably.” Yadriel shrugged. It’d be good to have an adult on his side. When it came time to reveal everything to his dad and Lita, it would be good to have his tío standing in his corner. “Obviously, not right now,” he added. “We need to get to school and then see Rio.” Yadriel started to walk down the street, gesturing for them to follow. His smile was so big, it was hurting his cheeks.

  Julian bounded after him, but Maritza stood there for a moment frowning, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I guess,” she finally sighed before following after them.

  “See? Everything’s working out!” Julian said, dimples flashing as he grinned over at Yadriel.

  “It is,” he agreed, heart racing. It was one more step in the right direction. One step closer to becoming a brujo. One step closer to being himself.

  He was still riding the adrenaline rush when he got to his first class. He was in a great mood, and Julian was in an even better one. Yadriel didn’t even mind when Julian, after immediately becoming bored in math class, got into some light mischief.

  Julian waited for Ms. Costanzo to write math problems up on the whiteboard and then once people stopped paying attention, which didn’t take long, he would erase a random number when Ms. Costanzo wasn’t looking. Three times she had to reference her notes, a confused look on her face as she tried to figure out where the mistake was.

  Julian perched on the edge of his desk and cackled. Yadriel had to stuff his fist against his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud.

  During lunch, Maritza joined them behind the bleachers. She helped Julian practice his ghost skills by flicking a triangle of paper back and forth, lining up their fingers like goal posts to aim for.