When I Cast Your Shadow

by Sarah Porter

  “Liv just invited me to a sleepover,” I say—and I can’t help it, there’s a tiny crackling in my voice. “Is that okay? Because I said yes, but I could tell her I forgot about going out with you.”

  “You should go to the sleepover, Ruby,” Everett says before Dad can answer. “You know how hurt Liv gets when you bail on her.” He says it too emphatically, like he has to force the words out. Like there’s something inside him that doesn’t want him to tell me any of that. “You should really go.”

  And now we’re staring at each other across the kitchen table while Dad pours himself more coffee. Everett’s eyes are wide and his brows are drawn tight; he’s desperate and he wants to make sure I know it.

  “But what about you and Dad?” I ask, and now I’m positive that Ever knows exactly what I mean by it.

  “We are capable of having fun without you, Ruby,” Dad says, still in the artificially upbeat tone he’s been using all morning. “The three of us can go out together another time.”

  Everett was right, the French toast is delicious, but I can barely choke it down. Everett gives my plate one of his new significant looks: Eat your goddamn breakfast, Ruby. I don’t care if you puke as long as Dad sees you eat like you mean it. So I keep chewing and Everett gets up ostentatiously for seconds.

  “This is seriously the best French toast ever.…” It’s getting to be overkill, the show he’s putting on. “Dad’s right, Ruby. We’ll be fine.”

  Once I’ve gulped down almost everything I get up to scrape my plate—and then something happens. Dad tenses and starts to stand up as he sees me head for the garbage, his face crinkling with worry. I lever up the lid and see the cake I made, dark rifts running through its lilac frosting and crumbs everywhere. I’d forgotten all about it, but of course Dad must have found it the same way I did.

  With a piece missing. And twenty-three candles.

  I finish clearing my plate and let the lid fall like nothing’s wrong. Dad starts to settle back down, obviously relieved that I’m not throwing a fit, and then I feel something graze my back. A hand made of static. For half an instant I can fool myself that it’s Everett—I’m standing near his chair—but when I jump around he’s still facing the table with a piece of bacon in one fist and his fork in the other. And I can still feel that prickling, airy hand traveling up my body. Exploring me.

  It comes to rest softly curled around my neck.

  “Ruby?” my dad is saying. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

  I know I can’t let myself scream, not with him watching me. My breath has stopped, dammed up and eddying inside my throat, and now Everett is twisting around to see what’s happening. That hand isn’t crushing my windpipe; it’s gentle, a charged vapor, poised between caress and threat. I don’t think it’s even solid enough to choke me. But somehow I can’t inhale and I stagger—still trying to play normal. Trying to set my plate down on the table before it slides from my hands and smashes on the floor.

  Something in Everett’s chair is smiling at me. And it is not Everett.

  And then it passes. I’m gasping a little, fighting to stand up straight, just as my dad darts over and pulls me into his arms. “Ruby!”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “Really. I’m totally okay. I just felt dizzy for a second.”

  He still looks worried so I kiss him on the cheek, pull away, and walk as decisively as I can to the sink. Rinse my plate and fork and put them in the dishwasher. Aloysius can leer at my ass all he wants, but I’m going to make sure he knows that I’m truly Dashiell’s sister and I can be just as fierce and defiant as my older brother. And that Dash and I will fight for Everett together. Won’t we? Because this has to be it, the struggle that I’ve sensed was coming all along. I glance at Everett and I think he’s himself again. His face is buried in his hands.

  “I’m so sorry about the cake, Ruby,” my dad says quietly behind me. “Seeing it, those candles—I hope you can understand—it was simply unbearable.”

  That’s what he thinks is wrong with me. Our poor father.

  And so I do what I have to do, even if it takes me a long moment to pull myself together. I go back and hug him and say of course I understand, and I’m sorry I upset him, and I don’t know why I did that, baked that cake. I felt compelled and I can’t explain it.

  I say, Something came over me.

  * * *

  “Ever,” I say. He’s walking fast so that I have to trot to keep up with him. It’s only a few blocks to our school and there’s so much we have talk about first. “Ever, Dash told me.”

  “I could tell.” It’s the first time he doesn’t sound quite like himself; the words are caged and snarling. “So why didn’t he do anything, if he knew? Where the hell was he?”

  “He said … he said they staged a diversion so he thought they were going after me. By the time he figured it out it was too late, Ever. Dash said—”

  “Right. You’re the one Dashiell would be worried about. Because he actually sort of gives a damn about you, in his sick way. I’d be the expendable one.” His backpack is thudding on his shoulders and brown leaves sweep around us, each spiral and flurry like an extension of our arms. Making gestures we can’t control.

  “That’s not true. Dashiell totally loves you. He loves us both.” Always, my Ru. Love always applies. No matter what happens, you need to remember how absolutely true that is.

  The look Everett flings over his shoulder snaps with pain. “So maybe one of us can go live with Mom in London? It has to be right away, though. I’ll do it, if she’ll even take me. Ruby, God, I was so stupid. They tricked me, but I really, really should have known. But I think—he has to know Dashiell hates our dad, right? Hurting Dad would basically be doing Dash a favor.”

  I’m about to protest, but then I understand: Everett’s not saying this part for me, but for the ghost listening inside him.

  “No one has to leave,” I say. Living with our mom sounds miserable; she’d never let him forget that he was in the way of her real life. “Ever, Dash is already working on it. On helping you. I mean, that’s why he’s not here.”

  “It’s not going to do any good,” Everett spits. Every muscle in his body is tensed and thrumming, I can see it. “What, you think they’re such morons that they’ll leave my corpse lying around where we can just find it? They won’t, Ruby. They’re professionals. I’ve already figured it out, so Dashiell will too. And even if it bugs him a little, he’ll just say he’s doing what he has to do. To protect you, maybe. Whatever.”

  His words rattle out fast and crazily, but nothing he’s saying makes sense. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, and you should watch out for Mabel. She’s completely obsessed with you. Even if the treacherous little bitch looks cute, you need to tell her to get lost. Okay?”

  I can’t manage to feel surprised that he’s met her, too. We’re half a block from school now and Ever stops, staying out of earshot of the kids shoving up the front steps. He grabs my arm and I almost yank it away, but then I can see by the frantic sadness in his big gray eyes that it’s really, truly him.

  “One thing Mabel isn’t is cute.”

  “Ruby? I’m not going in there. School, I mean. So this might be the last time I see you? We have to stay away from each other, I think forever. So I’m sorry for all the times I was a jerk.”

  I can’t even begin to take this in. I can’t let it make sense, but my heart goes tight and my eyes flood anyway. “Dashiell said … that whatever is in you might want to hurt me. But, Everett, we just have to stay apart for a little while! He said—”

  “Not hurt you, Ruby. What would be the point of that? Murder. Murder you. Then Dashiell won’t have anybody left he can use to stay here. He’ll be forced to go back to being totally dead. You really don’t get it? So Dashiell will try to stop Aloysius from doing that, obviously. And you know how Dash can be, like, practical. When he’s working to get things his way. I wouldn’t even blame him, really, if the whole freaking mess wasn
’t his fault to start with!”

  “Everett…” Suddenly his face contorts into a slow, rippling grimace and he lets me go. His arm flies up in warning. I’m remembering that staticky hand crawling over my throat and I jump back, sure that Ever is about to lunge for me. Then he relaxes again and shakes his head hard.

  “Dash said he might not have been able to keep you from walking into the river that time, because you were too upset for him to just bump you out of the way? So as long as I’m this completely out of my mind I guess we’re cool. But if I fall asleep anywhere near you, Ruby, I won’t be able to stop him. Or even if I space out for one second. Just like you won’t be able to stop Dashiell.”

  “You’re going to be okay, Ever. We’re going to fight for you. I promise.”

  Everett stares at me. Gray eyes lost in the thick fringe of his lashes. Then his mouth wrenches into a terrible smile.

  “You mean, you and Dashiell will fight for me? Ruby, you still don’t get it. I’m really, really sorry, but you don’t.” I want to argue but the look in his eyes cuts through me, severs my voice like a falling ribbon, and I can’t make a sound. “See, Ruby, I’ll—my body, anyway—I’ll do my best to murder you. I won’t have any choice. But you’ll try to murder me, too.”

  DASHIELL

  “Well hi there, Miss Mabel. How are you this lovely morning?” She’s weeping violently, or at least engaging in the best simulation of weeping that she can manage as a lump of gray haze. It wasn’t hard to find her. The shadow corpse of her Old Body is gone, simply vanished from the scene, so she’s come to mourn in the very spot where she once blasted him full of holes. She’s a sentimental creature, our Mabel. “Your sad, abused Old Body has passed on to regions of peace and light, I take it? I’m sorry for your loss. But don’t think you’ll be acquiring my sister as his replacement. Aloysius has made you promises he can’t keep, Mabel, assuming he ever had the slightest intention of trying. I think you know that.”

  Mabel snuffles, or at least vents an emotion that approximates snuffling. “I know you’re angry at me.” I don’t say anything and she studies me eyelessly. “It’s Aloysius’s fault! I never would have been away from Old Body if he didn’t make me! And while I was here Old Body got a gun and now he’s dead, his whole body is dead, and I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  “And since it’s Aloysius’s fault, he owes you Ruby Slippers twice over? Once for betraying me and handing over my poor brother to be used up and destroyed, and the second time for inconveniencing you? Even if Aloysius sees it that way, Mabel, he still can’t make good. How can he possibly dislodge me from her when they don’t even have her body? You wouldn’t like having to share.”

  “They do have it,” Mabel snaps. “They found it before you could! So there!”

  She’s being wonderfully cooperative today. “Ah. So they’ve tucked her away with Everett in some warren?” But Mabel’s on her guard now, no doubt realizing she already said too much. “How do you suppose they’ll persuade my Ruby-Ru to make the transition, though? Close herself to me, then sit back and relax while you hack away at her? Everett wanted me out and that made him vulnerable to your games. But Ru-Ru’s happy as things are.” I can imagine a few ways they might go about convincing Miss Slippers, in fact, so Mabel likely can as well. Torturing me would do the trick, for example, assuming they ever catch me, or threatening to toss Never in front of an oncoming train. “Aloysius won’t bother, Mabel. He’ll murder Ruby as soon as he gets the chance, and you’ll lose her forever; she’s hardly a girl who will end up here. Aloysius is well aware that Ruby and I together represent a threat to him. He didn’t mention that?”

  Mabel goggles at the startling idea of anyone posing a threat to Aloysius. “You can’t do what Aloysius can do! He’s the only one! He’s the one who gets to hurt everybody, and no one can stop him. You’re just being silly.”

  “I can’t do what he can do, no. Even I’m more particular about my friends than he is. But I can do something else. You see, Miss Mabel, I have something of his.”

  There’s a long lull while she ponders this, and I take advantage of the silence to listen to the muffled lapping of the river. There’s no other discernible movement but I shouldn’t put too much trust in that.

  “You mean like what happened with Constance?” she whispers at last. “You can do that to him? But you’re dead! You can’t bring anything from outside in here!”

  “Ah, but my Ruby Slippers can. She’s already carried her phone here, once. A fine proof of concept. The real difficulty now is getting Aloysius back here at the same moment, and ideally taking him by surprise. You see, Mabel, he’s frightened. You’ve given him an exit, made it possible for him to cower inside my brother where I can’t get at him. And you’ve provided him with the hands he’ll use to kill Ruby. You can see that chopping her up is the simplest option for him, can’t you? It would solve all his problems at a blow.”

  I won’t say more to her at the moment. She’ll brood on the thoughts I’ve offered and draw her own conclusions soon enough. I’ve almost certainly been observed by now and I should be on my way. I was careful to leave the corner back into my Ruby Slippers near at hand, of course, but it’s drifted a bit down the shore, as such turning points tend to do. This is a slippery place and things don’t necessarily stay where you put them. If any of Aloysius’s henchmen come, I’ll have to race for it.

  “Wait!” Mabel says as I start to go. “Did you hide it?”

  “Of course I did. Would I leave something as precious as that out on the street?”

  “Aloysius will find it if it’s in your house. And if you put it outside the cats will. They’re always spying on you!”

  If I had a mouth I would smile. “Oh, pah. The cats try their little best, Miss Mabel. Naturally they do. But they’re such fragile animals.”

  EVERETT

  I’ve never actually cut school before and it’s going to be one more thing to freak out our dad, but then I’ve got the whole deeply traumatized angle working for me. I’ll tell him I had a panic attack or something, couldn’t face going in. I can pick up on just enough of Aloysius’s consciousness, like the tone of his mind, to feel how malice crests through him, how it drives him. The utter evil of him is trickling through me, cold and metallic like spilled mercury, and I’m sick with self-loathing that I let this happen. He doesn’t have it in for Elena specifically the way he does for Ruby, but I don’t want him anywhere near either of them.

  So I walk to the Gowanus Canal at 9th Street, ignoring the shouldn’t-you-be-in-school looks spewing from every grown-up I pass. There’s an empty parking lot right by the water with big, cracked logs along its sides. I sit down and get my phone out and stare for a moment, dreading what I have to do; our mom left when we were five and it’s not like I even know her that well. We visit her every couple of years, and maybe she calls on Thanksgiving and our birthday. She’s too busy with her awesome-ass career, producing events for big-name artists and falling in and out of love with half of them. Romping around the planet like she owns it. One thing I’m pretty sure of: when she told me she’d realized that she and our dad just wanted different things, we topped the list of what she didn’t want anymore. She was thrilled to give him custody and she won’t see any reason to mess with the arrangement now.

  But I’ve got my story already rattling through my head: Everything in New York reminds me of Dashiell, it’s too hard, I can’t concentrate in school; I feel like I’m having some kind of nervous breakdown. I need to come and stay with you, right away. Tomorrow. If I have to, I’ll threaten suicide. I’ll say whatever it takes. So I pull in a breath and call.

  She doesn’t pick up. I was ready to argue, cry, beg, but somehow it never occurred to me that she wouldn’t even answer. It’s two in the afternoon in London and I swear I can feel her from here, glancing down at the name Everett flashing on her screen. And deciding not to bother. Suddenly my whole body flares up with this dark fever and I’m gritting my teeth. It’s crazy
, I know it, but the whole time I’m listening to her—This is Laura Tierney, please leave a detailed message at the tone—my rage is getting thicker and hotter and I wish I could rake out her throat for the way she abandoned us. “Mom,” I start, “it’s Everett. Listen, I need—”

  But the voice is all wrong, guttural and burbling. Monstrous. And then I’m choking on my spit, smacking at the phone to hang up. When I catch my breath again it’s racked and ugly, so I start fumbling through my pockets. Ugh; I forgot my inhaler. I sit tight, clenching myself and concentrating on opening my lungs and pulling in air. After a minute the attack eases off.

  Aloysius finds the whole thing perfectly enchanting. And then before I know what he’s doing he’s taken hold of my arm and it’s arcing high above my head. My phone sails up, its screen winking with confused reflections as it spins, then plops straight into the slimy water.

  That’ll be enough of that, boy. It’s time to let go of your old attachments, isn’t it. Prepare for your new life, however long that life might happen to last.

  He was just playing with me, before. When I thought he was trying to seize control of my body outside our school he was only playing, twitching inside me to watch me jump. I could do an okay job of fighting Dashiell, at least some of the time, but suddenly I realize that Aloysius is a lot stronger, and a lot older. For Dash it was all a new experience and maybe kind of awkward, but Aloysius knows what he’s doing.

  At least that’s what I’m thinking, but maybe they aren’t even really my thoughts. The ideas slopping in my brain might be propaganda straight from Aloysius, meant to persuade me that it’s futile to resist. Like, why even try?

  Because we’re already up and I definitely didn’t make the decision to stand. We’re already walking back the way I came: toward Park Slope, and my school. And toward our house.

  So I play dead. I go floppy and passive inside my own body and let him think I’ve collapsed in despair. Ruby should have the sense to stay out at least until tomorrow and our dad won’t be home again until evening, but the situation is so much worse than I thought—and it’s a freaking concept that it’s even possible for things to be worse—that I know I have to do something drastic.