Wildcat Fireflies

by Amber Kizer

  We knew. That’s why they came here.

  I was changing out the linens, delivering the meal tray, freshening the water pitcher, and checking their feet for cold. I always added a layer whenever someone’s toes felt too cold. It seemed to me an easy thing to do. My frigid feet never warmed and I wished someone would toss an extra blanket over mine.

  “Oh dear, that tickles.”

  I leapt back from the bed, my gaze flying toward the voice at its head.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” She seemed contrite and apologetic, rubbing her eyes with one slightly shaky hand.

  “Hi,” I said. “It’s okay, I thought you might need another blanket or—”

  “I’m Enid Fairchild.” She lifted a hand toward me and smiled. Her brilliantly white hair was pressed against her head like a skullcap. It looked like she usually styled it in tight curls.

  “I’m Juliet … um, Ambrose.” I shook her hand carefully, trying to make sure I didn’t hurt her. Rarely were patients here conscious or talkative, but when they were, I learned a library’s wealth of knowledge.

  “Are you a candy striper, child?” She tried to raise her body higher on the pillows.

  I leaned over her and added muscle to her efforts until she nodded. “No, what’s a candy striper?” I asked.

  “Why, a volunteer who helps in the hospital. Do you want to be a nurse or a doctor?”

  “No!” I almost shouted. I’d spent entirely too much of my life nursing and doctoring to want to do those things as a career. “Sorry.” I backed away from the bed, expecting her to scold me for raising my voice.

  She blinked and glanced around. “We’re not in the hospital anymore, are we?”

  I bit my cuticles, hating to be the one to break the news. “No, ma’am, you’re at Dunklebarger Rehabilitation Center.”

  “Well, that’s a mouthful. Don’t you just love that name, Glee?” She tried to reach a hand out to pat her sister. Her hand fell limply when she couldn’t quite make it. Her sadness was a palpable curtain descending over her bed. “Can you move us closer? Please?” she asked.

  Mistress would say no, but I didn’t see what difference it made. So I unlocked the wheels of Glee’s bed and pushed it gently toward Enid’s.

  “That is sublime.” She brushed her sister’s hair away from her forehead. “Hello, my darling.”

  I stepped back, feeling like an intruder.

  “We’re twins, you know. Identical twins.” She smiled at me, her wrinkles like bird tracks across her face. They added a divinity to her smile that felt irresistible.

  She made me think of Miss Claudia and Paddy, the first guests I met when I came here. I loved them. They were like grandparents, family that I never knew I missed until they died. Since then I’d kept my heart far away from anyone old who was alive enough to talk. Kept an emotional distance to protect myself, pretended I wasn’t attached to them or wished for something I couldn’t have, until I believed it.

  “May I have a drink of water, Juliet?”

  “Sure.” I poured her a clean glass from a plastic bottle and held the straw while she drank.

  There was a twinkle in her eyes that reminded me of someone. Brilliant blue eyes like pictures I’d seen of the South Pacific Ocean. I yearned to see every body of water on earth. Wildcat Creek was the closest I had come to and that’s what kept me striving forward when Kirian left three years ago.

  “I think I’ll sleep now. Will you be here when I wake?” Enid asked with the vulnerability of a young child.

  I tried to give her reassurance that I didn’t feel. “Yes, ma’am. Probably.”

  “That’s good. Very good.” She closed her eyes and drifted off.

  “Sema?” I whispered at the curtains. I couldn’t remember if she was in here or not.

  Sema peeked around the outside edge of the curtain. I envied her the smooth milk chocolate of her skin and the hazel green of her eyes. She’d be exotic and beautiful when she was grown, especially compared to the grass-fed heifer I saw looking back at me in mirrors.

  “Can you stay in here? Come and get me if either of them wakes up?”

  She nodded and disappeared back to her post at the window. She happily twirled herself into the heavy fabric. Part of me, the mothering part, wondered if I should be dissuading this obsession, but the other part didn’t want to take away the one thing that comforted the little girl.

  The rest of the day passed swiftly, with Mistress adding more demands when she thought I wasn’t moving fast enough. The to-do list forever lengthened.

  Finally, with two minutes to myself and an urgent need to empty my bladder, I sat on the toilet and leaned against the wall. Closing my eyes, I felt the pull of sleep, of something darker and more permanent. I was swimming in an ocean much more powerful and strong than I could ever hope to be. I didn’t know why I kept fighting the currents when letting go had a certain comforting appeal.

  “Juliet?” A tiny hand shook my shoulder.

  I jerked, almost falling off the toilet. “Bodie?” I shrieked. “Get out!”

  “No!” He crossed his arms and planted his feet.

  “Yes!” There was no dignity in this with my panties at my ankles.

  “You ’ave to listen to me!” He narrowed his eyes, peeved and determined.

  “Fine, what?”

  “It’s a message. From Meri-de-an.”

  “From Meridian? What were you doing talking to her? Is she here?” I started fumbling with toilet paper.

  “Stop!” Bodie squealed. “Listen.”

  I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay.”

  “She met your mom. Mom loves you, protects you.”

  “What?” I had expected an invitation to dinner or a fashion suggestion, anything but information about my mother.

  “That’s what she said. Now, you heard it.” He backed out of the tiny servant’s bathroom and shut the door behind him.

  I called after him, “When? Where? Bodie!” I stood and tripped over my tangled feet. “Damn!” I pulled myself together and trotted out to find Bodie for more details.

  I was blasted by Mistress as soon as she saw me.

  “Juliet!” she screamed.

  I closed my eyes and schooled my face back to neutral. I couldn’t handle more physical abuse today. My bruises were better, but the bones of my back continued to ache. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Has Ms. Asura been here?”

  Huh? “Ma’am?”

  Her eyes rolled white and wild. “When I wasn’t here, was Ms. Asura in my office?”

  “Not that I know of.” Where was this coming from?

  “You see everything that goes on here. Tell me.” She stepped toward me, looking like she’d beat the answer out of me. The problem was I didn’t know which answer she sought.

  “I don’t know.”

  She puffed up her cheeks and slapped a hand against the doorjamb. “She’s been here. I know it. Does she think she can interfere? This is my house. She’ll be at the Feast tonight. We’ll see who’s in charge here!”

  I stood ramrod straight and silent, trying not to draw attention to myself.

  She waddled past me. I thought she might have forgotten I was there, until she said over her shoulder, “I’ll be out late.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do not take advantage of my hospitality.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The front door slammed and I sagged.

  “Is she gone?” Nicole bounded down the steps.

  I nodded. “Did you talk to Bodie?”

  “Yep. Heavy message. Here.” Nicole handed me a wrapped bundle.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Your costume.”

  “For what?”

  “Go find answers at the Feast. That’s where they are.”

  “The Feast? Mistress will kill me.” Not an idle threat.

  “She’s not here and you’ll be back before she is.”

  “She’s going to be there and
you know it.”

  “Maybe. Hunting trouble.”

  “Should I warn Ms. Asura?” I asked, my stomach clenching at the thought.

  Nicole blanched. “Uh, no. Have I taught you nothing? That one can take care of herself. Go to the Feast. Find Meridian and Tens. They’re probably with a glassblower named Rumi, the man you met before. Mistress won’t recognize you. That’s what the costume is for.”

  “Really? How do you know this stuff?”

  “Magic.” Nicole smiled. “Just a guess. Come on. Go. I’ll handle here.”

  “But—”

  “Juliet, you have to know the truth. Go.”

  I put on the pioneer costume and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I saw a different girl who lived a different life. I needed to find Meridian.

  Could my mother really be out there? Does she love me?

  Will you know the choice I faced, or will you grow up loved and happy and never need to know? —R.

  CHAPTER 32

  Juliet

  The party was in full swing by the time I caught a ride on the back of a Chevy truck hauling hay and revelers toward the light and crowds. No one blinked at my costume; one of the guys even commented that I looked right out of Little House on the Prairie. I guessed that was a good thing. I waved thanks and hopped off on the fringes of the grounds. I tugged the brim of the bonnet farther over my face to shield my identity and stave off the cold.

  The fort was lit up in the dark of night with what seemed like every spotlight in the world, including the fullest moon I’d ever been under. I’d never seen so many people gathered together. It’s not possible to grow up here and not know about the Feast—that and the Indy 500 car race were in the blood of Hoosiers—but I’d never been. To either. Never even dreamed of attending.

  I joined the stream of people herding toward the strobes and the noise of multiple bands. Some people were costumed like me, while others were in military uniforms or jeans and flannels, even yuppie slacks and sweaters. The diversity of the crowd was too much to take in. I was a foreigner in my own backyard.

  The aroma of grilling meat and the crackle of fat filled the air. My stomach growled. People gnawed on enormous turkey legs and breaded pork tenderloin sandwiches. Spits of whole pig roasted over fires and long grill stands were covered with flocks of chickens splayed for cooking. Spicy apple cider warmed in huge cast-iron cauldrons. Everywhere around me people laughed, danced, and played. I felt myself relaxing, enjoying the festival atmosphere.

  I wandered the food stalls, my stomach reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet today. I had no money. I watched someone toss a half-eaten drumstick and roasted corncob into the trash pile and inched toward it.

  Someone bumped me from behind and I lost my nerve. I twirled toward whoever had pushed me and saw a trio of black-robed priests in big floppy black hats propelling through the crowd as if they were late to a meeting with God. Rude.

  I checked faces, especially those of tall men, searching for Tens among the people who towered over the crowd. I thought I might spot him faster than Meridian; she was shorter than me. I kept moving through the throngs and groups.

  I turned down an artist alley as a band started playing a bluegrass tune that had the whole place tapping toes and dancing. I smiled, the joy contagious; it lightened my burden, my questing for truth.

  Up ahead a booth with swirling glass stars twinkled, calling to me. The giant who’d brought the colored papers to DG called out to customers, joking and cajoling. Rumi? Nicole had mentioned he might know where to find Meridian. As I neared him, the light grew brighter. He quickly scanned the area; his face broke into wide delight when he saw me approaching.

  I drew back, hesitating, afraid for a moment this was a mistake. A terrible, horrible mistake.

  He motioned me toward the back wall of the booth, so I scooted quickly around, out of eyesight.

  “You’re a brave one tonight, aren’t you?” Rumi peeked his head around the fabric.

  I shrugged, unable to make my tongue work.

  “I’m guessing you’re here to see my other angel friend?”

  My expression must have shown my confusion, because he took pity on me and stopped speaking in riddles.

  “Meridian is taking a break from working in here with me, grabbing victuals with her beau, Tens. If you go two rows over, they’re under those trees. They want to help you, so trust ’em if you can.” He pointed. “You’ll find ’em eating and drinking, pretending not to be worried about the evils in our world, for my sake.”

  I nodded and turned toward where he’d pointed.

  “Wait, lassie.” Rumi reached into his pockets and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Buy yourself food too.”

  “No—I can’t take—”

  “You’ll blend in better if you at least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

  I stepped forward, accepting the money. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.” Somehow.

  He winked, then disappeared back toward the front of the booth. I heard his voice engage customers, talking about the good luck Spirit Stones brought. And didn’t they catch the light beautifully?

  I bought a skewer of chicken. I was so hungry that I ate it before I’d reached the next stall. I think it tasted good.

  I picked up my pace, reminding myself that I was here for answers, not to eat. I spotted Tens leaning against the trunk of a tree, his arms wrapped around Meridian as they swayed to the music.

  I walked closer, lifting the edge of my bonnet until Tens made eye contact and nodded at me in recognition. Meridian’s eyes were closed and I heard sirens at the edge of the music. Tens waited until her eyes opened and then he whispered in her ear. I saw her search for me and smile when she found me.

  She motioned with her head and we walked away from the music toward the remains of the fort and the French soldiers camping there. Tens stayed a step behind us. It seemed as though he was playing the role of bodyguard.

  “You got my message yesterday?” she finally said when we were far enough away from the crowd and the stage that conversation was possible.

  I shrugged. “This morning. Bodie told me. Is it true?”

  Meridian claimed an empty set of rocking chairs tucked under the umbrella of an old black walnut tree. She motioned to me to sit down.

  I sat next to her and Tens stood with his back to the tree, watching the people around us, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets.

  I repeated, “Is it true?”

  She nodded. “Sort of.”

  “What do you mean? You said when I had questions you had answers. I’m asking.”

  “I know, but it’s complicated.”

  “You either met my mother or you didn’t.” My voice carried.

  “I did.” She nodded, trying to keep eye contact but failing. She bit her bottom lip.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “She’s safe.”

  I rose out of the chair. “I don’t want to play games.”

  “I know. I’m trying.” She looked lost. “Can we start with an easier question?”

  “Can you explain photographs to me? Why don’t I show up in them?”

  “That’s easier.” Tens snorted behind us.

  “You’re like me. We’re related.”

  “Related?” Like a sister? A cousin?

  “I don’t show up in photographs either. I didn’t. Because of what, of who, we are.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re Fenestra. We help souls get to heaven. We’re the light they see as they die.”

  “Now you’re insane, telling stories.” I stood up and backed away, turning, ready to run. This is why I snuck out of DG and risked brutal retribution for disobeying?

  “It’s no story. That’s why your mom is dead.”

  I stopped, but didn’t turn.

  Meridian walked over to me and lowered her voice. “She died protecting you and I met her when I helped a soul cross the window.”

 
All my wishes evaporated, leaving me empty and helpless. I thought for a moment, just a tiny moment, that my mom was coming to get me and this would all be a nightmare. I’d wake up a little girl again.

  “I’m sorry.” She touched my forearm and I flinched. “You’re why we’re here. We want to help you. There are people, bad people who want to hurt you—”

  “More?” I turned, and let my anger take the reins. “There are more bad people? Do you have any idea what my life is like? What I’ve had to survive for a decade? There can’t be more. There aren’t more bad people to hurt me. They’ve taken everything and now you stand there and take the rest.”

  “I’m trying to give you the truth, not take anything. Please. Please just listen: your birthday is not February tenth, but March twenty-first.”

  “Oh, so now my birthday is wrong? Is my name even Juliet? You want to tell me I’m some other girl? This isn’t my life?”

  “Come with us, please—let us explain.”

  “Are you high? Why would I go anywhere with you?” I yelled.

  “You’re in danger. Your life is—”

  “What? Over? When did it begin? What’s left to end? All I do is take care of children and the elderly. I don’t have a life.” I thought of Kirian. Of the dreams I’d once had. The future that seemed so distant and unimportant now.

  “We want to help you get one. You have to trust us.” Tens stepped forward, his hand on Meridian’s shoulder seeming to brace her.

  Jealousy ripped through me. I had no one at my back. No one putting a hand on my shoulder in comfort or in strength. I was the hand for so many others. “Don’t you understand I can’t leave? I can’t leave them all there. I can’t let that horrible woman break them. Beat them. Starve them. There’s no one else. Don’t you understand?”

  “But you’re not just a foster kid.”

  “Yes, I am. I am just a kid who no one wanted.”

  “That’s what we’re telling you. That’s not true. You’re a Fenestra and—”

  “Prove it.”