A Tangle of Secrets

by R. G. Thomas

  “Sounds lame.” Andy pushed to his feet. “You’ve all got tangled wires in your brains. Gotta go.”

  “Later,” Crystal muttered.

  Thaddeus watched Andy go, his strides long and fast. When he looked back across the table, he found Marty and Crystal staring at him.

  “What?” Thaddeus asked. “Why are you staring?”

  “Did you know Andy before you started here?” Crystal asked.

  “No. I met him my first day like you two did. Why?”

  “He’s kind of….” Marty’s voice faded out as he considered his word choice.

  “A dick,” Crystal said. “Andy’s a dick. And we don’t want his dickness to infect you and make you start acting like a dick too.”

  Thaddeus smiled, then chuckled. “I’m glad you told me this. And I promise to resist the temptation to act like Andy.”

  “Like a dick?” Crystal asked with a grin.

  “Yeah, that.” Thaddeus blushed as he shrugged.

  “Do you not swear?” Marty asked.

  “I swear,” Thaddeus said, but hated that his defensiveness came through in the tone of his voice. “Just not that often, I guess.”

  “You’re like a crazy goody-goody, you know that?” Crystal stood and picked up her tray. “But I’ll take that over someone acting like a dick any day.”

  “Thanks?” Thaddeus said, happy to hear them both chuckle.

  Marty walked with Thaddeus and Crystal as far as Mr. Elder’s classroom, and then he sprinted off to his chemistry class. Andy was not in his desk as Thaddeus and Crystal took their seats. Thaddeus exchanged a shrug with Crystal as the tones sounded for the start of class, and then he busied himself getting his notebook and pen from his backpack.

  Mr. Elder took attendance, and when he discovered Andy wasn’t there, he looked to Thaddeus with raised eyebrows. Thaddeus shrugged in reply. Mr. Elder flicked his gaze back to Andy’s vacant desk before making a mark in his attendance book with a decisive stroke of his pen.

  Thaddeus’s last two classes went well. The dull headache that had been lingering the last couple of days seemed to have eased up a bit, and the slightly menacing voice in the back of his mind had fallen silent. He was grateful for his improved mood, which allowed him to really focus on the class lessons and participate. He even forgot about the steadily growing zit on the back of his neck, until the boy who sat behind him in geometry made a comment about it.

  “Your third eye is staring at me, newbie,” the boy said. “Think you can wear a scarf or something tomorrow?”

  Thaddeus pretended he didn’t hear but couldn’t help hunching his shoulders as he worked out the geometry problems Ms. Bosk had assigned them. Once school ended, Thaddeus hurried to the bike rack and stopped with a frown. Where was his bike? He was sure he’d locked it up at this end of the school.

  “Dammit,” Thaddeus grumbled as he walked back and forth along the rack filled with bikes. “Someone stole my bike.”

  “Bummer, dude,” a boy said as he walked up and pulled his unlocked bike from where he’d wedged it into the middle of the rack.

  “Oh, sure, I lock my bike and they cut the chain to steal mine, but his isn’t locked and they don’t even touch it.” He adjusted his backpack across his shoulders and walked around the school, checking each of the racks to make sure he hadn’t left his bike at a different location. It was nowhere to be found, so he started walking.

  It took a little longer than he’d anticipated for him to get home. When he stepped through the side door, his parents were sitting at the kitchen table. His father looked up at the clock and frowned as he looked back at him.

  “You’re a little late. Did you stop somewhere?”

  “No.” Thaddeus let his bag fall to the kitchen floor and dropped into a kitchen chair. “Someone stole my bike.”

  “What?” His father was on his feet and reaching for the wall phone.

  “You locked it, didn’t you?” his mother asked.

  “Yes, of course I did,” Thaddeus replied, his tone sharper than he’d intended.

  “Hey, don’t talk to your mother like that,” his father said. He ran his finger down a list of numbers he’d taped to the wall beside the phone.

  “Sorry,” Thaddeus mumbled.

  “It’s all right,” his mother said, but she got up and moved to the sink where she started to put away dishes from the drying rack.

  “Who are you calling?” Thaddeus asked.

  “The school first of all,” his father said. “And then the police.”

  “It’s a bike, Dad,” Thaddeus said. “Not much they’re going to do about it.”

  “Hey, I bought you that bike for your tenth birthday, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Thaddeus got up and grabbed his backpack. “I’m going upstairs to start my homework.”

  He could hear his parents whispering as he trudged up the steps. He was beyond caring about that, however. As a matter of fact, he was pretty much beyond caring about everything right now. There was no way he was going to be able to focus on his homework, and he definitely didn’t want to sit in the kitchen and listen to his father chew out the school’s office staff followed by the Superstition police.

  His good mood had evaporated, and there was nothing he could do to bring it back.

  Late afternoon sunlight filled his room and made it feel stuffy. He opened the window that overlooked Teofil’s yard and stood gazing down. Several of Teofil’s siblings were working on the rooms Rudyard had crafted in the pit. Teofil and Astrid were nowhere to be seen, and Thaddeus turned away from the window with a hot lump of emotion in his throat. He missed the connection he’d had with Teofil, and with Astrid and Miriam, actually, as they had picked their way through the Lost Forest. Had that all only been a few months earlier? It seemed like years had passed since they’d left on the journey to find his mother, the dragon.

  Thaddeus sat on the edge of his bed with his chin on his chest and his hands hanging limp between his knees. His energy was sapped, and that persistent headache thumped in the background of his thoughts, like an obnoxious noisy neighbor. A breeze slipped in through the window gap, bringing with it the smell of flowers and fresh dirt from the other side of the privacy fence. Thaddeus’s eyes slowly closed, and before he knew it, he was lying on top of the sheets with his pillow clutched tight to his chest.

  He awoke a few hours later. Sitting up in bed, he looked blearily around his room. The sun was about to set, and its orange light made everything look strange and out of place. He could smell dinner cooking, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation. Looking at the clock, he was surprised to see it was after 8:00 p.m. His father must have spent a lot of time on the phone with the school and the police about his bike.

  Probably telling them some lies, like he does with everyone else.

  The whispery voice was back, and with it came a lack of motivation. It took what felt like every ounce of energy he had left to get off the bed and make his way to the bathroom. He tried to see the pimple on the back of his neck but couldn’t quite get the angle right, and he didn’t feel like looking for a handheld mirror. Did they even own one? He slathered a generous amount of pimple cream over it, wincing the entire time, and then made his way downstairs and dropped into a kitchen chair.

  “You slept a long time,” his mother said from where she stood at the counter cutting up vegetables. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m okay, just got a headache,” Thaddeus replied. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Outside talking to Rudyard and Miriam.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “I know you miss Teofil. You’ll be able to go over there again next week.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “You don’t sound too excited by that,” his mother said.

  “I am, I guess.” Thaddeus shrugged and stared at the chipped and scratched surface of the table. “It’s weird.”

  His mother put down the knife and sat across from him. “What’s weird?”

 
“Nothing,” Thaddeus said without looking up at her; then he sighed. “Everything.”

  “Can you be a bit more specific?”

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” Thaddeus said, his voice getting louder with each word. “And I feel like I did something wrong and I didn’t, and I don’t know how to fix it because I’m not the one who broke it.”

  “Broke it?” His mother moved to the chair next to him and laid a hand over his wrist. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on? Are you and Teofil in a fight?”

  “I don’t know,” Thaddeus replied. “Andy stopped by in the evening after I got suspended, and Teofil saw him and it got weird. And then Leopold’s ghost the other night told Teofil not to talk to me, so I guess that means I’m a bad person, but I don’t know what I did for him to feel that way.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there’s some explanation for that. Messages from the spirit side can never be taken as fact. There are so many emotions and other distractions for spirits.”

  “Tell that to Teofil.”

  “I might do that.” She squeezed his wrist and got to her feet. “And don’t you worry about your bike. We’ll get you a new one once your father’s been at his job a little longer.”

  “Oh yeah, and now my bike’s gone. I forgot about that.”

  His mother went back to chopping. “You were sound asleep when I went up to check on you, so I decided to leave you be. Your father and I waited so we could eat with you a little later than usual.”

  “Thanks. Do you know how long?” Thaddeus asked.

  “Not long.”

  “Okay. I’m going to wait in the living room.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Thaddeus went into the living room and, leaving the lights off, he stretched out on the couch. A few minutes later, his father entered the room and switched on the floor lamp beside the beat-up recliner they’d managed to bring with them through most of their moves.

  “You feeling all right?” his father asked. “Why are you lying in here in the dark?”

  “I’m okay. How are things next door?”

  “Rudyard is putting the finishing touches on his rooms this weekend,” his father said with a smile. “He’s excited to show them off to us.”

  “I guess I’ll see them next week when I can go over there again,” Thaddeus said, closing his eyes again.

  His father sighed and moved up to sit on the edge of the chair. “Yeah, about that. I think you’ve learned your lesson, don’t you?”

  Thaddeus looked over at his father. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  Thaddeus sat up a little straighter. “Did you see Teofil while you were over there?”

  “I did. He asked how you were doing.”

  “He did?” Thaddeus stood up. “I wonder if I should go over there?”

  “Dinner’s almost ready, how about you wait until after we eat?”

  Thaddeus almost couldn’t eat when his mother called them to the table. He was excited and nervous to see Teofil again. More nervous than excited, if he was to be honest with himself. Things had been so tense the last couple of times he’d seen Teofil, he didn’t have any idea what to say. All he really knew was that somewhere beneath the frustration, impatience, and dull headache, he really, truly needed to speak with Teofil.

  Tell him how you’ve been feeling. Really let him have it.

  No, that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to talk with Teofil again, be with him. That was what he’d been missing.

  Once he finished eating, Thaddeus jumped up and rinsed his plate at the sink before turning to face the table. “Can I go next door now?”

  His mother and father exchanged amused looks before his father said with a smile, “Yes, go on.”

  Thaddeus banged out the side door and raced across the yard. It was fully dark by then, and the grass looked silver in the moonlight. Thaddeus glanced up at the moon, then stopped at the back corner of the fence and stared up into the sky. A fat, full moon hung above him, its white light bright and bleaching the color from everything it touched.

  “Oh no,” Thaddeus whispered as Dulindir’s explanation about spirits echoed in his memory: When a soul leaves the mortal vessel it inhabits, the only time it is able to leave this world and enter the next is during a full moon.

  A chill shook Thaddeus. Was this the night Leopold was going to leave this world?

  He took a couple of deep breaths before moving slowly toward the gate. The tree he had climbed to see into Teofil’s yard that one fateful night a few months before stood a few feet outside the thick line of woods, the leaves looking black in the moonlight. Thaddeus thought he could see where the Bearagon’s claws had scratched the trunk, but he wasn’t sure.

  Teofil had saved him that night. And weeks later in Iron Gulch, Thaddeus had used the water from the Well of Tears to save Teofil. He hoped that sometime soon they could get back to those original feelings of love and support. Surely something as silly as this misunderstanding couldn’t keep them apart.

  He took another deep breath, then eased the gate open and stepped into the yard.

  Teofil stood in the center of the yard, his head tipped back as he looked up into the shimmery and transparent face of Leopold’s spirit. Fairies hovered a respectful distance behind Teofil, their tiny golden lights sparkling even in the bright light of the moon. As Thaddeus watched, Leopold smiled and placed a palm against Teofil’s cheek. His lips moved, and even though Thaddeus could not hear what Leopold was saying, he could tell it was a final farewell as tears ran down Teofil’s cheeks.

  A hot lump of emotion sat behind the hollow of Thaddeus’s throat, as if he’d swallowed a small stone that had been sitting out in the sun. He wanted to approach and wish Leopold well on his journey to the next world but kept quiet and remained in place. This was Teofil’s moment, and Thaddeus had no right to interfere.

  Leopold turned away from Teofil and walked toward the back of the house where the two of them had once lived together. With each step, Leopold rose higher into the air, as if he were climbing a staircase made of moonlight. Tears blurred Thaddeus’s vision and he wiped them away so he could watch along with Teofil and the fairies as Leopold climbed higher and higher toward the full moon. He made it level with the roof of the house, then the top of the tree in the front yard. On and on Leopold climbed, and it didn’t take long until his pale, translucent form faded from view.

  The tightness in his chest reminded Thaddeus he needed to take a breath. He wiped away more tears in time to see Teofil drop to his knees and bury his face in his hands. Thaddeus hurried forward but stopped a few steps behind him.

  “Teofil?” Thaddeus said in a quiet voice.

  Teofil looked over his shoulder, moonlight sparkling along his tear-streaked cheeks. He frowned when he saw Thaddeus. “What are you doing here? I thought you were a groundling?”

  Thaddeus could not help a small smile. “I think you mean grounded.”

  “You’re always correcting me,” Teofil said and turned away. “I know I don’t know enough about the outside world. Leave me alone.”

  “I’m sorry about Leopold,” Thaddeus said, taking a step closer.

  “Okay, you’ve said it. You can leave now.”

  Thaddeus took another step closer. “It must have been hard to say goodbye like that.”

  Teofil sniffled and nodded but kept silent.

  Thaddeus moved up to stand behind him. “Did he give you any more information before he left?”

  Teofil nodded, and Thaddeus dropped to his knees beside him. After a moment’s hesitation, Thaddeus put an arm around him and pulled Teofil in close.

  “I’m sorry,” Thaddeus whispered as Teofil broke down into heavy sobs. “I’m so very sorry.”

  They stayed that way a long time, bathed in moonlight while the fairies slowly circled overhead.

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  THADDEUS WOKE up Saturday morning with a terrible headache that extended down into his shoulders. He gingerly touched t
he back of his neck and let out a hiss of pain. The blemish was getting worse. It had been a long time since he’d had a pimple this inflamed, and although he was grateful that it was on the back of his neck and not in a more visible place on his face, he couldn’t help feeling defensive and down about it.

  He took a long shower, but the thumping ache lingered, matching the rhythm of his heart. Afterward he tried to see how big the pimple had become. Despite turning this way and that, all he could see in the mirror was an outer edge of redness. He attempted to squeeze it, but the pain that zinged into his skull and down his spine brought tears to his eyes and took away his breath.

  Back in his room, Thaddeus sorted through his folded pullover shirts on a high shelf in his closet until he found several mock turtlenecks he’d had for a few years. He curled his lip in distaste as he held up a navy-colored shirt. They were long out of style and had been purchased at a used clothing shop in one of the towns where Thaddeus’s growth spurt had coincided with a particularly difficult time his father had had finding work.

  Thaddeus pulled on the shirt and gingerly felt along the top of the back of the collar to make sure it covered the pimple. With the monster zit from hell hidden from view, he felt a little better as he went downstairs to the kitchen where his father was scrambling eggs.

  “Good morning,” his father said. “Juice is on the table. You hungry?”

  “Yeah.” Thaddeus dropped into his usual chair and smiled when his mother looked up from the newspaper.

  “You look handsome today,” she said. “I like that shirt.”

  “Thanks,” Thaddeus mumbled.

  “Wow, I haven’t seen that shirt for a while,” his father said. “Does it still fit?”

  “Yes, it fits fine, thanks.” Thaddeus’s tone was sharper than he’d intended, and he hurriedly reached for the juice carton.

  “What are your plans today?” his mother asked.

  “I don’t know,” Thaddeus said. “I’ve got some chores to do. After that I was hoping to spend some time with Teofil. If that’s okay.”