Painted Blind

by Michelle Hansen

  Chapter 16

  I drove through at the nearest taco place and ordered the ten-taco combo. I held a handful of tacos up between the seats. “Aeas, meet Rory. Rory, meet Aeas.”

  Rory looked at me like I was crazy until a hand appeared and took the tacos from me. Then he spun around and looked at the boy in the back seat. “Where did he come from?”

  “He’s been with me all day. Veiled.”

  “Veiled.” Rory repeated. Quietly he added, “He looks kinda young.”

  “Don’t let that fool you. Aeas, what are you? Fifteen?”

  He chewed and swallowed before speaking. “I’m thirteen annum shy of sixteen.”

  “Which means he’s by far the oldest person in this car. For every year of his age, he’s lived a hundred of ours. He’s thirteen years shy of sixteen hundred. He probably speaks five languages.”

  “Eight,” Aeas corrected. “Wish you guys would settle on one and use it forever like we do.”

  “Phenomenal,” Rory whispered as he started munching a taco. “So, have you spent much time in our world?”

  “Not as much as Eros, but a fair amount. He sends to me to deliver messages and sign all his legal documents. I go places he can’t be seen.”

  “Eros is always invisible?” Rory wadded up a wrapper and started on another taco.

  Aeas shook his head with a laugh. “He prefers not to be seen. Pretty much every woman who sees him wants to have his child.”

  Rory turned to me. “Have you seen him?”

  “Once, without his permission, which is why I’m in this mess.” I saw a flash of curiosity in Rory’s eyes, and it made me defensive. “I didn’t offer to have his child,” I said emphatically. “I didn’t offer him anything.”

  In the mirror I saw Aeas’s expression sadden. “That’s why he loved you.”

  After school I took Aeas shopping so he wouldn’t have to keep wearing my clothes. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as I pulled into the mall parking lot. Another crowd. Another chance for people to gawk at Venus. “No dallying,” I warned. “We grab, pay and dash. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Aeas replied.

  “Don’t you dare disappear on me.” I took a deep breath and marched into the store. I headed to the men’s section where I pulled cargos and jeans from the racks and dumped them into Aeas’s arms. My clothes fit him, so I bought the same sizes.

  When a sales guy headed our way, I crouched toward the bottom row of shirts and kept my face turned away. “Can I help you find something?” the employee asked.

  “We’re good, thanks,” Aeas replied without hesitation.

  “Nicely done,” I murmured, as the guy walked away.

  “I’m an expert at running off unwanted attention. It’s what I’ve been doing for him all our lives.” He pulled a shirt from a rack. “I like this one.”

  “Good taste, too. Grab a few more and we’re out of here.”

  “I’ll pay you back,” he said as we went to the car.

  “Don’t worry about it. Consider it a thank you for my hand.”

  “It was the least I could do since I came into your home uninvited twice. I hope you understand. I have access to Eros’s accounts, but I could never steal from him.”

  I hadn’t known him very long, but I knew Aeas was loyal and honest. Eros trusted him completely. “Just stay out of sight when my dad is home.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what is this Venus ad you were talking about?”

  I decided to show him rather than explain. We hit a red light a block from the billboard, and Aeas’s mouth actually dropped open at the sight of it. “The birth of Venus,” he whispered. “You saw her face to face?” He turned to me in disbelief. “And she didn’t harm you?”

  “I had the pendant.”

  “Still…” His voice trailed off. “You know that story mortals tell about Aphrodite blinding a man because he saw her bathing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s true. Theron did it for her.”

  “Now, that I believe. I also believe if we succeed at this task, the others will be harder.”

  “And more dangerous,” he added. “Are you sure we need Rory’s help?”

  “With this task we most certainly do.”

  “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

  I stomped on the gas when the light turned green. “That isn’t your concern. He’s helping me out of kindness. You’re only helping me because you want to go home.” That shut him up. Facing Aphrodite’s tasks, I had no room for testosterone bickering.

  Rory pulled into the driveway just as we climbed out of the car. “I borrowed a friend’s camera. It’s better quality than mine,” he said. “And I typed up a press release during fifth period.” Rory turned to me. “But, there is one magazine I thought you would collect yourself.”

  “Why would I …” Then I saw it in my mind—Savannah opening the magazine in Chemistry to show me the ad. “Yeah, I’ll talk to her mom.”

  Rory opened the front door, stood a moment and inhaled. “My mom’s been baking.”

  “I never say no to brownies,” I answered as I crossed the doorstep, but my thought was lost as the scent hit me—cinnamon and oranges.

  “Smells like home,” Aeas added. “Psyche!”

  I heard his voice but couldn’t answer. My knees buckled; the living room blurred and went dark.

  “She’s got a knot on her forehead from the door jamb.” It was Rory’s voice. A moment later something cold covered a throbbing spot on my forehead.

  “That doesn’t look like ice,” Aeas replied.

  “Frozen peas,” Rory said. “Is she coming around?”

  I tried to open my eyes—I’m fine; stop fussing—but my eyes stayed shut. Murky shadows played with little sparks of color behind my eyelids. Must have whacked my head pretty good.

  “It’s possible this is a side effect of the dust,” Aeas said.

  “Dust did this to her?”

  Irritation slid into Aeas’s voice. “What do you mortals call it? Cupid’s arrows?”

  Rory scoffed. “Whatever.”

  “This isn’t a joke.” Aeas lowered his voice to a whisper. “A mortal could die from this.”

  I managed to push myself up on my elbows, though my eyes were still a little blurry when I opened them. “I’m not going to die. How long was I out?” I was lying on the bed in Rory’s room with one boy on each side. The two of them scowled at each other over my now-conscious body.

  “Just a few minutes,” Rory answered. “You okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay. I just swooned like some helpless maiden. I’m mortified.” I fingered the goose egg on my forehead. “Bet that’s pretty.”

  “Flawless is boring, right?” Rory offered me the bag of peas. “What happened?”

  Aeas answered, “It was the smell. There’s an orange grove outside the palace, and we dry cinnamon in the kitchen. But, I don’t understand why.” He frowned at the bump on my head. “The dust usually doesn’t work like that.”

  Rory crossed the room to his computer chair. “You mean to tell me that Eros put some kind of love spell on her then threw her out. The guy sounds like a complete jerk if you ask me.”

  Aeas jumped to his feet. “No one asked you, and you will watch what you say.”

  “I can say whatever I like in my house.” He leveled his gaze on me. “Is he worth the trouble of collecting these ads? Give me one reason why we should bother. The guy messed with your head then tossed you aside. He doesn’t care one bit about you, or he wouldn’t have put that dust on you.”

  “He didn’t,” I admitted. “I spilled it while he was sleeping.”

  Aeas’s eyes widened. “How much did you spill?”

  I shrugged as I shook the last stars from my peripheral vision. “I don’t know, like, half the jar.”

  Aeas made a choking sound and spun around to face Rory. “There’s your reason. A heavy pinch of dust is enough to make her love him all her life. No mort
al has ever been exposed to a handful of it. She’ll waste away, unable to sleep or eat, fainting like this at any reminder of him.”

  Rory looked at me. “There has to be a cure.”

  “Only one,” Aeas said quietly, “and even if he forgave her, he can’t come to her. He’s bound by the contract as much as she is. It specifically says that she will never see his face or hear his voice until the tasks are completed. That contract is legal and binding to my kind in our world or yours. She cannot see him unless she succeeds at all three tasks.”

  “All right, you guys,” I interrupted. “Enough. Nothing’s changed. We complete the tasks as planned. I’m not going to pine away and die. So, let’s get to work.”

  “I need to rent a storage unit,” I said as Rory loaded the video footage onto his computer.

  His eyes didn’t leave the screen. “No, you don’t.”

  “All that mail isn’t going to fit in my bedroom.”

  “Not by a long shot.” He saved the file onto two different drives, then turned to me. “I figured this out during school. If each magazine is half an inch thick, then it takes up 46.75 cubic inches, times one point four million is like thirty-eight thousand cubic feet.”

  “My dad’s a cement contractor, Rory. Give it to me in yards.”

  “Fourteen hundred three cubic yards. You need a warehouse.”

  “Holy crap! We could build a warehouse with that!” And once we had a place to store it all, how would I deliver it to Aphrodite? “Any idea where we can find an empty warehouse?”

  He grabbed his coat and keys. “Way ahead of you. C’mon.” When Aeas stood beside me, Rory muttered, “I suppose he can come, too.”

  We drove past the fair grounds to a run-down building near the railroad tracks. It was made of cinderblock and used to be white. Now the sides of the building were covered in graffiti. The place had been empty for years. It was probably condemned. “I drove by at lunch and got the address,” Rory said. “Then I called the county recorder to see who owns it.” He led us to the office door, which had a broken doorknob. A padlock had been added at eye level. “I told the owner we needed it for a school project. He said to just come by and get the key.” Rory unlocked the door. “It’s ours rent free for sixty days.”

  The offices still contained old file cabinets and metal desks. An ancient phone hung on the wall. On the warehouse floor, there were odd tires, broken machines and an inch of dirt, but it was certainly large enough for the magazines. Most importantly, it had a mailbox on the loading dock, so we could have the magazines sent directly to the warehouse.

  Around midnight, Rory sent me a YouTube link. Aeas was asleep and invisible in front of my closet. I pulled on headphones so I wouldn’t wake him and clicked the link.

  When my face appeared on the screen, I could barely see the knot on my forehead. We had covered it with make-up and hair. “My name is Psyche Middleton,” I said, “and I’m Venus.” The video cut to the Venus advertisement, but my voice continued. I said how flattered I was that the ad was so well received, and that I knew of six operating fan sites. “I want to give something back to my fans, so I’ve decided to take one fan to dinner.” Then I explained how to enter the contest: send in a copy of the Venus ad with an index card containing your name, address, phone number and email address.

  The next scene showed me standing on Main Street. I pointed at the Venus billboard and offered one hundred entries into the drawing for anyone who sent me a billboard. “But hurry,” I said, “I will pick a winner six weeks from today.”

  Text appeared against a blue background. It said, “SEND ENTRIES TO” followed by the address for a graffiti-covered warehouse down by the railroad tracks. The next screen gave the deadline date. The screen went black, and I rubbed my sweaty palms together.

  Rory sent this link to a dozen sites, including Dragonslayers Anonymous. He said not to worry. It would work.

  All I could do was wait and see if he was right.

  By five o’ clock the next morning, my cell phone was ringing. I’d dozed off a mere two hours before and had to focus hard on the buttons to answer. “This better be important,” I figured it was Rory.

  “You are brilliant!” Blair shrieked in my ear. “I just heard about the contest. Cosmo’s fashion editor called me personally. When are you coming back to work?”

  “I’m in school, Blair.” I yawned. “And, it’s five a.m.” I hung up and tossed the phone on the floor. Dad was clanking around in the kitchen, so I dragged myself downstairs.

  “Came to see me off?” Dad joked as I slid onto a barstool. He went to the stove, poured water, measured, mixed and came back with a steaming cup, which he put in front of me.

  The herbal concoction was fragrant and sweet. I sipped, grateful for the warmth. “What’s in this?”

  “Ginger. It settles the stomach.” He split the eggs he’d made for himself, and dropped more bread into the toaster.

  “You’re too observant.”

  “Eat what you can. Grief does crazy things to a body.”

  I could not tell him that it was Eros, not Savannah, who was the root of my grief. Having someone you love die might be easier than having them throw you away. There were so many times as a child when I daydreamed that the mother who left me wasn’t my mother at all. My real mother died of a tragic illness. My real mother would never have forgotten my birthday or abandoned me in Europe.

  While I drank the herbal tea, Dad packed himself a lunch of wrap sandwiches, fruit and Oreos. Then he grabbed his keys and kissed the top of my head. “See you tonight, kiddo.”

  I locked the door and climbed the stairs. After the tea and a real breakfast, I fell asleep and didn’t dream. By the time I pulled myself out of bed again, I barely had time to throw on some old jeans, brush my teeth and dash out the door to first period. The day dragged, and I was preoccupied by the sad task awaiting me after the final bell.

  Katherine Schofield answered the door wearing a cashmere sweater with khakis. She had made great effort to cover the circles of fatigue under her eyes, but grief had marked her.

  “Psyche?” She looked around in momentary confusion then offered, “Come in?”

  I went with her into the living room, where Savannah’s photo hung on the wall next to her brother’s. If Savannah had been alive, I wouldn’t have given the picture a second glance. It had always hung there. Each year it changed when the new school photos came out. Savannah took her senior pictures in the summer when her hair was streaked with sunlight and her skin glowed. I hadn’t taken mine at all, unless you counted advertisements, which I didn’t. Her brother’s picture would eventually be replaced by a wedding photo and his future family, but Savannah would remain forever seventeen and smiling on the Schofield’s wall.

  Katherine stood next to me and studied the photo, too.

  “It’s a really good picture of her,” I said.

  “She wanted a different one, but this was my favorite.” She didn’t ask why I was there.

  “I think I may have left… I think I…” I could not lie to a woman whose face held so much pain.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “I haven’t touched anything.” She went around the corner to the kitchen.

  I walked down the hallway, half expecting Savannah to be sitting on her bed waiting for me as she had been the last Saturday in May, the beginning of Memorial Day weekend and also the first day of our summer break. The weather wasn’t overly warm then. I was still wearing full length jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, but Savannah had broken her summer wardrobe out of hiding and was sitting on her bed in a yellow boat-neck top and fitted ivory capris. She was hunched over a photo album. I knocked lightly on the doorjamb and went in.

  Savannah had looked up and said, “Remember last summer when I was dating Aiden?”

  I merely nodded. It had been a whirlwind beginning and a bitter end. By August two things were painfully obvious—Aiden worshipped Savannah, and she was bored with him. I remembered how he bought her a dolphin t
oe ring and made her candy grams.

  “I went swimming with Travis last night,” she said. They had been dating exclusively for four weeks. I figured Travis was slated to be this year’s summer fling and nothing more, but Savannah’s expression changed. “It was amazing watching Travis swim. He goes under, and I swear, I thought he’d drowned he was gone so long. The whole time I’m treading water trying to see him. Then he swam under my feet and tugged on my toes.” Savannah hugged her knees. Her gaze found a place on the far wall and saw nothing but Travis in the last rays of sunlight. She broke from her memory and looked up at me. “For some reason, it made me think of Aiden. He tried so hard, but it never did anything for me. But swimming alone with Travis at dusk—it was romantic.” I should have known right then she would be different when I came back, but I could not have imagined it would end here with me turning the knob on her empty room.

  The room was a wreck. Savannah wasn’t a tidy person, and when her mom said she hadn’t touched anything, she meant it. Clothes were strewn all over the floor. Savannah’s make-up compact lay open on her vanity. Scattered across her dresser were textbooks and spiral notebooks. I opened one and found English notes written in Savannah’s loopy handwriting. She had that stylish script that looked like it had been written in a rush. I traced her signature with my finger, the overlarge S through the four bumps of the double N’s to the tall H with the broken-off tail. It was strange what you missed about people.

  I made a neat stack out of the books, picked up all the dirty clothes and dumped them into the hamper by the door. Cleaning Savannah’s room was a familiar job. Her parents always insisted her room be clean before she went to movies or basketball games on weekends, so I had spent more than a few Friday afternoons helping comb through her messes. Talented in so many other ways, Savannah simply did not understand the art of organizing.

  On the shelf above the desk was a line of framed photographs. The photo of the two of us in a “Best Friends” frame was lying face down. Maybe she’d had trouble looking at it while she planned her betrayal. It didn’t matter now, so I righted the frame and saw myself smiling back with my arm draped around Savannah’s shoulders. At the center of the shelf were a dustless rectangle and a gaping hole, where a frame had recently been removed. I checked the garbage and found a framed snapshot of Travis sitting on the lifeguard’s seat holding his hand out to the camera in the “I love you” sign. I hesitated, then placed it back on the shelf.