The Evensong

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The Evensong Page 13

by Lindsay Payton


  Everything passed by uneventfully all morning. When Omar came in for his usual lunch break, I made sure I was in the back, and Meryl knew I didn’t want to talk to him. Besides that, Lisa and I kept to ourselves, and I let her take over the register most of the day. I stayed in the far corners of the aisles putting things away and occasionally cheating to let the cans and boxes drift up to the shelves on their own.

  When it was finally time for me to leave, I folded my apron and tossed it back under the counter. I tried to thank Meryl again, but she only waved me towards my car, saying she understood and would only like a warning next time. I gave up on thanking her and stepped outside where it was only drizzling, but the harsh wind made it all the worse. I could barely see past my hair, but when I walked around my car to the driver’s side, I stopped, staring at the person crouched next to the wheel. His hair was blowing across his face, but Linden stood fast when he saw me.

  “Hey,” he said, pushing the hair away from his face.

  “Hi,” I replied, a little apprehensive. One for seeing him again so soon, and two for being seen talking to him in public. The wrong eyes could see us.

  “I would have gone in to say hi, but I wasn’t sure who’d be in there,” he went on, his voice partially lost in the weather.

  “What? Oh, yeah,” I replied, glancing towards the store.

  “But anyway, I wanted to ask—”

  “Wait, I can’t hear you. Here, get in.” I pointed to the car as I pulled out the keys. Linden went straight to the passenger side and waited until all the locks clicked and he opened the door.

  I sat inside quickly and pulled the door shut, trying to fix the mess of my hair. Linden didn’t bother and immediately turned his fierce gaze on me.

  “Rough day?” he asked.

  “I’ve just had a headache, no big deal,” I said, wishing he would be blunt.

  “Sorry to hear that … are you going home right now?”

  Thankfully, getting to the point was easy for him. “No, I don’t need to. Why?”

  “Can you come by my place? I wanted to show you a few things.”

  This was an innocent request, but I still wondered what it could be. Fear should have driven me away, but my curiosity won over.

  “Okay. Did you bring your car?”

  He pointed it out down the street and suggested I take the long way around to his house.

  “Just so, you know, you don’t have to go by yours,” he explained.

  I smiled slightly and agreed; no use in getting anymore suspicion coming my way.

  Linden got out of the car and hurried towards his. I waited until he head gone down the street before backing out and going to the highway where there was a frontage road that would lead me to the swamps.

  Navigating through the back roads was harder than I’d anticipated. I’d only used them once before, and I drove down a few unlabeled dead ends, which suddenly stopped at the edge of the murky water. Linden ended up beating me to his house, and I parked quickly, rushing up his steps where he waited in the portal.

  My hair was damp, and I ran my fingers through it in annoyance. Linden closed the door behind me and vigorously ruffled his hair.

  “All right, safe,” he said, looking a little triumphant. “Come on, it’s all upstairs.”

  He didn’t pause a minute, but went straight up, taking the steps two at a time. I followed, a little more slowly. He waited for me in the hall, paused in front of a closed door.

  “Just as a fair warning, it’s probably pretty cold up here,” he said.

  “Okay,” I replied, confused.

  When he opened the door, it didn’t reveal one of the vacant bedrooms as I expected. Instead there were only stairs, bare and worn unlike the rest of the house. Linden started up first, then me. I noticed it was getting colder as we went up, and at the final stair I was beginning to shiver and I realized we’d walked into the attic. It was darker here, the only gray light coming from a single window at the far end of the room. There were piles of boxes and items covered with dusty sheets. Linden carefully moved between everything towards the single window. I walked through the tiny walkway, the floorboards shifting and sinking slightly underfoot. Ahead, Linden sat on an ancient bench, looking through the box in front of him. I stood next to him, waiting and wondering what this was all about.

  “Here, sit down,” he said, briefly patting the worn cushion. Gripping my arms for warmth, I sat next to him and watched as he pulled out a thick book covered with worn green suede.

  “I finally found this last night,” he said, brushing some of the dust off. “It’s my uncle’s photo album. Well, one of them.”

  He gestured to the box, which was full of smaller albums. I nodded, clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering. He opened the cover and tilted the album towards me.

  “This is him, Rhys, my uncle,” Linden started, pointing to the first black and white photo. I admit, I was surprised to see the very normal-looking man standing on a small wooden bridge. He looked vaguely like Linden; I think it was the almond-shaped eyes they shared.

  “How old was he?” I asked, noticing the clothes he wore. I wasn’t sure how many people still wore this style of tweed suit anymore.

  “He’s twenty-five here,” he replied, turning the page. He passed by other pictures in sepia tones. Some were of Rhys in front of different homes, posing on a high mountain, and other ones of foreign scenery. One in particular caught my eye, and I stopped Linden before he could turn the page.

  “Who’s that?” I asked. I pointed to a woman sitting beside Rhys in a living room that could have been the one in this house.

  “Oh, that’s my mother,” he said, seeming slightly uncomfortable. “She used to visit every Christmas.”

  Before he could turn the page, I got a short look at her dress in the picture. It looked really old-fashioned, almost 1920’s-esque.

  Linden explained some of the photos featured his uncle’s other homes located around the country and some in Europe. He was an avid traveler, and his mother sometimes joined him.

  He was trying to pass through a few pages quickly, but I stopped him when I saw something interesting.

  “Is that you?” I asked, pointing to a picture of his mother holding a baby.

  He sighed and kneaded the back of his neck. “Yeah, it is.”

  I laughed and pulled the album closer, wanting a better look.

  “How old are you here?” I asked, smiling at his embarrassment.

  “I don’t know, maybe one,” he replied.

  “You have a lot of hair,” I said, laughing. It was true, he had a lot of dark hair in the picture, almost similar to his future self with it falling into his eyes. He looked a lot like his mother, especially in this photo.

  “Do you still talk to her?” I asked, looking up at him.

  “Yeah, sometimes; she’s around,” he replied, taking the album back. He seemed to close off a little, so I backed off, falling silent until he was done with the entire book.

  “So, did you get some insight?” he asked, shoving the album back into the box.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I replied, reverting back to shivering. The wind was still blowing fiercely, and it rattled the small window next to us, letting in some of the cold.

  “I just wanted you to see that he was ‘normal’ in your terms. And he was an Elemental, too. I mean, we’re not anything really different from people, except for a few things.” He laughed slightly and leaned back against the stacked boxes behind him.

  “I guess that’s … convincing,” I replied, thinking of the brief moment I’d seen him crouched next to the swamp, his hand in the water.

  “I’m not lying about it,” he said, looking at me. “What you see, this is how I live. I don’t use any—power or whatever—daily.”

  “What about when it rains?” I asked. I couldn’t keep guessing these things anymore.

  He paused, pursing his lips. “Okay, well that’s kind of my fault, but no one connects it to me
. You’re just having a monsoon season.”

  That confirmed it then. He had something to do with the headaches I got whenever it rained. It had to be him; I was sensitive to whatever it was he gave off.

  “I thought you should see it,” he said, shrugging.

  “It’s not that I didn’t think you were normal. You’re definitely more normal than I would have expected. But it’s—”

  “Just that fact that bothers you,” he finished for me. There seemed to be both bitterness and disappointment in his tone, and I looked at him quickly.

  “But doesn’t the whole—witch factor bother you?”

  He stood, annoyed, and pushed the box of albums away with his foot. “I’ve already told you before. No.”

  He made a move to walk away, and I reached out to take his hand. “Linden—”

  I didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to assure him, but of what I wasn’t exactly sure. He still looked down at me, waiting, and I still had a grip on his hand. I hurried to my feet and stumbled over my words for a second.

  “Um—I just need some time. To convince myself.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Convince yourself? Of what?”

  “Of—” I stopped when I heard a door shut outside. Linden heard it too, and he beat me to the window.

  “Do you know her?” he asked.

  Squeezing into the window next to him, I looked down at his driveway where a familiar blue Jeep was parked. Alysana was walking up the steps to the porch.

  “Oh no,” I groaned. I turned fast and tried to hurry to the stairs, but Linden held me back; he was still holding my hand.

  “Who is that?” he asked.

  “It’s Alysana, she lives with me,” I replied.

  His eyes widened. “Oh, fantastic.”

  We both hurried out of the attic and back into the house. Linden closed the door behind him just when Alysana knocked.

  “Wait, wait,” I whispered before he could go downstairs. “How you set up your phone?”

  He frowned, confused. “What?”

  “I might not see you for awhile, do you have a phone?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He rushed into his room and returned with a pen. He jotted the number down on the top of my hand before we rushed onto the first floor. Alysana knocked again as I pulled my sleeve over the number.

  When I opened the door, Alysana looked at me accusingly. Her eyes went from my face then behind me where Linden stood.

  “Hi,” he said hesitantly.

  She looked back at me, now angry. “I was really hoping Rene would be wrong.”

  I didn’t say anything, just stepped out and closed the door behind me. I opened my mouth to explain, but Alysana turned away.

  “Aly,” I called after her, but she didn’t turn around. She stormed over to the Jeep, and I knew I had to get in the car and follow her home.

  ONLY A NORMAL BOY

  Rene yelled at me for a good thirty minutes. She called me careless and disrespectful. I had disrespected her as well as the entirety of our kind. When I tried to defend my side of it, she wouldn’t listen. She even rounded together the whole house for a meeting. I sat at the end of the table as she retold her lesson about Elementals to the table, then told them what I had done. The whole time, Alysana stared down at her lap while Omar looked increasingly angry. By the time everything was over, I could feel tears coming up behind my eyes. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry, and I fiercely bit the insides of my cheeks until I was allowed to go up to my room.

  I slammed the door and locked it, finally exploding alone. I kept a hand over my mouth to stifle the sobs. After today and the day before, I was really starting to get over this whole taboo subject. Now everyone in the house was convinced I was a traitor even though they knew nothing. Rene didn’t even know the reality of my situation; she wouldn’t listen.

  I sat down on the bed to calm down. Looking at the phone number on my hand, I was very tempted to call him but I wouldn’t have anything to say. Just knowing he was on the other line was enough comfort for me.

  I picked up the phone next to the bed and listened to the dial tone for a moment. Dialing the number, I let it ring once before I hung up. What good would it do now?

  There was nothing I could say to myself for assurance. I lay down on top of the sheets and turned off the light, staring up at the ceiling. The tears were drying on my cheeks, and I wiped away the last of them.

  In the hall, I could hear people going back to their bedrooms. There was obvious whispering, but I could hear Omar’s voice over the others. He didn’t bother being discreet.

  “She’s being stupid, I know this isn’t the first time she’s been around him,” he said, his words clipped and harsh.

  “Shut up,” Alysana snapped at him, and I heard footsteps approach the door. There was a quiet knock, but I lay motionless.

  “Riley?” she called quietly. I didn’t reply and she tried the door. The lock clicked, and I sat up fast. I couldn’t believe it; she had used to will to unlock the door. As fast as she had unlocked it, I used my will in return. The door shut again and the lock was back in place.

  “Riley, I’m sorry … but it’s for your own good,” she said after a moment.

  You don’t know what I need for my own good, I thought angrily. When she finally walked away, I got up and moved the small armchair in the corner in front of the door. If Alysana was going to violate one of the house rules, who knows who else would do it too?

  Back in bed, I didn’t even try to sleep. I projected right away, escaping the house. Outside above the roof, I went straight toward the swamps, no longer feeling any hesitation or guilt in going to Linden.

  His house was completely dark, something I didn’t expect of him at this time of night. It wasn’t that late yet. Taking the wind, I sailed through the open windows and slowly drifted through the house.

  The door to the attic was open, but no light came from above. Going further, I found myself in his bedroom where he was lying in his bed, still clothed and awake. I wanted to pull back, but I assured myself that he couldn’t see me.

  I settled in the small potted plant on his desk. Even watching him was a minor relief for now, thought it still brought on a tinge of sadness. He looked exhausted just lying there, one arm hanging off the bed. I noticed a book on the floor, but then realized it was the album he’d shown me earlier. It was open to the page where there was a picture of his mother and his one-year-old self. Just remembering the picture made me smile a little, and for one of the first times, I detached from the plant and projected as myself. It felt strange as it had before, like being too exposed and cold. I looked down at myself, naked, and noticed the very thin line of silver threadlike material around my wrist. It extended behind me, back through the bedroom door. I’d only read about it a few times, so I didn’t understand it completely. It kept me tied to my physical being, and that’s mostly all I knew.

  On the bed, Linden shifted, tucking his arms under the pillow. He closed his eyes and settled into the bed, still seeming tense. I took a cautious step forward, wondering if I’d make any sound. The room remained silent so I walked forward, crouching next to the album. I bent close to get a better look and ended up smiling. In the photo, Linden looked like he was laughing hard, and his mother smiled widely at the camera. It made all the more curious about her, especially since Linden seemed so vague about her.

  When I had looked at the picture long enough, I stood and silently walked to the foot of the bed. Linden lay on his stomach, leaving half of the bed empty. I carefully crawled up, amazed nothing moved as I went. I sat beside him, watching his back rise and fall with his breathing. Sleeping like this was just so … human of him. Combined with the pictures he’d shown me earlier, my initial feelings of taboo were almost diminished. I reached out to touch his shoulder, wondering if he would somehow feel it. When my hand rested on him he didn’t stir, and I let my fingers trail down his arm.

  When he moved I snatched my hand away, pressing myself against
the wall. I didn’t move as he turned towards me. His eyes were open and he looked straight up at me. I didn’t move—I couldn’t—and waited until he finally closed his eyes again. Had he somehow felt my presence there, or was it by chance? Either way I felt intrusive now and returned to the wind to let it carry me out his open bedroom window to my empty room.

  When I opened my eyes again, I looked up at my own ceiling. My body was shaking since I’d projected so long and outside any plants or earth elements. As I sat up, I felt slightly weak and very cold. I slipped under the covers and pulled my knees up to my chest, hoping I’d warm up fast. Once again I looked at Linden’s phone number on my hand and thought about calling. But after just being there I thought it was a bad idea and I rolled over, hoping I could fall asleep.

  I went four days without seeing Linden; I didn’t even project to see him. It wasn’t for the sake of Rene and redeeming myself, but to keep from feeling tempted to contact him. For the moment, I had to be cautious. Alysana was still watching me carefully, even after I told her again and again I wasn’t seeing him. I wasn’t about to try to convince her of my side of the story. Unfortunately, I had to keep her in the dark.

  Meryl had caught on to my mood, even though I masked it well. She kept me one day after my shift when Lisa had gone home.

  “So you haven’t seen him in awhile, have you?” she asked as she poured us coffee into two mugs.

  I tried to read her expression, wondering if she might be reporting to Rene. “No, not since my verbal beating.”

  She laughed and handed me a mug. “I heard about that. Rene called to ask if you were really with me the night she called. I said yes.”

  This gave me some relief, and I let me guard down a little. “Thanks, and I’m sorry if she’s been bugging you to see where I’ve been.”

 

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