“True, except that kind of goes back to my point about how we’re not in control. Except you’re making it sound less terrible. So why does this all do such a number on me?” Maya picked up her soda and saw that her thumb was bleeding.
Eli made a strange, short sound, almost like a frog croaking, but then coughed.
“Are you okay?”
He cleared his throat, and then spoke in a gravelly voice: “Never her mind on where she was.” He started poking Maya’s arm with each word. “What. She. Was doing.”
“Is that Yoda?”
Eli nodded. “Empire Strikes Back.”
“He’s got a point. Oh, that reminds me.” She got out her notebook. “Let’s do a list here. Everything we can write down.”
“Like a list of right now?”
“Yeah. I’ll be the scribe. Ready?”
Eli surveyed the street. Pointed at a woman walking by. “Crazy striped socks.”
“Nice,” said Maya, her pen scribbling:
Vines of flowers on a white fence
Rainbow-painted crosswalk
Cloud shaped like a hippo
Weird pink splatter in the road like a dried-up spill
Old car with its engine ticking
Guy taking apart his burger and eating it one part at a time
Squirrel with a french fry
Skinny older lady, fast tiny steps, yellow pants, green hair, a captain’s hat
They filled the page, and then Maya read the list back to Eli.
“There’s like a story behind each one,” said Eli.
“Here.” She wrote a title at the top and underlined it:
The Beautiful Now
Maya tapped her pen against the paper. Her throat suddenly constricted and a tear slipped down her cheek.
Eli put his hand gently on hers. “What’s up?”
“It’s like, every moment is so much, but then you have to lose it. I hate that.”
“You don’t have to lose it. You could let it go. Like a flock of birds.”
Maya smiled through more tears. She’d thought of drumbeats that way, but it had seemed sad then. “That’s a pretty great way to look at it.”
Eli shrugged. “I just thought of it.”
Maya reread the list. “Should we post this?”
“We can’t. It might blow our cover.”
Maya laughed. “That’s right.” She immediately hated that she’d even had the thought. Besides, it wasn’t just that they couldn’t let anyone know their connection; maybe she didn’t want anyone to know. “Hey,” she said, her heart starting to sprint before she quite knew what she was saying, “I have a concert next Friday. If you wanted to come, I could save you one of the reserved seats?”
“I’d like that.”
“Good,” said Maya, feeling a little flush. She smiled at Eli, but his expression had turned stony.
“My sister’s here.”
Melissa was waiting to turn into the parking lot. She saw them through the window, and Maya felt sure that her gaze was disapproving.
They shoved down their last few bites and headed out. Melissa met them by the door.
“Thanks for coming,” Eli said to her.
“No problem,” Melissa said. “Hello,” she said to Maya.
“Hi.” The bus stop was down the street. “I’m just gonna—”
“Eli,” said Melissa. “Go to the car, okay?”
“Why?”
“I want to talk to Maya. It’s girl stuff.”
Eli’s brow furrowed. “See you later.” He shoved his hands in his hoodie and started toward the parking lot.
“Listen,” Melissa began.
“I’m sorry,” Maya said immediately. “It wasn’t my idea to hang out with him, but—”
“I know it wasn’t. Look, I get that you guys have this connection, with that day.” Melissa glanced at the restaurant window. “And it’s cool seeing you two sitting there chatting, like Eli’s normal, I mean…It’s just, I know you feel like you guys get each other, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you really don’t have any idea how much he’s been through, how damaged he is.”
“Oh. Okay. But he seems good when—”
“I know he does,” Melissa almost snapped. “I’m not saying you’re not good for him. I think you are. I was probably wrong to tell you to stay away. It’s hard not to be overprotective….I’m saying be careful. If you ever catch yourself thinking that he’s normal, or that what’s going on in his head is the same as in yours or anybody else’s, just remember that it’s not, or even if it is, it’s really fragile. Nobody’s really sure how he’s dealing with stuff, not even his doctor. You might mean something one way, but he might take it totally differently.”
“I’m not— I didn’t—”
“Just keep it in mind, okay?”
“Okay.” But Maya wasn’t sure. Eli seemed fine when they hung out. Maybe he was actually more himself around her than around his family. But it didn’t seem like a good idea to say that.
“We’re all lucky you were there,” Melissa said. “And I do think he’s lucky to have you now. Sometimes we think he’s getting better. Other times…”
They both looked at Eli, leaning against the car with his headphones on, staring at the ground.
“I, um, invited him to my jazz concert next week. Is that still okay?”
“Yeah,” said Melissa. “He could use some better taste in music. That Sideshow Fantasy shit is repulsive.”
“Totally.” That reminded Maya. “Hey…”
Melissa’s phone buzzed. “Shit,” she said, checking it. “I’m totally going to be late for my study group. We gotta run. What were you going to say?”
“Oh.” Maya had been about to ask about Graham. What did Melissa think of him? Did he seem good for Eli? But she also thought of how Eli had shut down in the car when she’d mentioned him, and maybe he’d be mad if it seemed like she was going behind his back. “It’s nothing. You should go.”
“Okay. Thanks for listening.” Melissa hurried toward the parking lot.
Maya waved to Eli, but he didn’t look up as he got in the car.
October 15
He found a note in his locker after lunch on Monday. But it wasn’t from Maya:
Meet me at Olympus. After school.
He’d expected to hear from Graham over the weekend, but he hadn’t. And Eli hadn’t contacted him. The thought of talking about Saturday would just make it real; but of course, it already was. He’d heard the whispers around him in the halls and in class, all day:
“Did you hear they found the house where the kidnapper guy lived?”
“I heard his room had no windows and he had to shit in a pail.”
“And the kidnapper had this bunker under the house.”
“My mom says the guy is still in Seattle and is going to snatch another kid.”
He wanted to tell them all to shut up. They talked about it like it was so interesting. Like the latest episode of a TV show. And yet for them, it was. Gabriel’s house and the investigation were plastered all over every station and site.
They didn’t know what it was like to have that room fresh in your mind, no matter how much he told himself it was just a room. Didn’t know that he could barely focus on anything since then. Could barely sleep. Lying on the floor, drenched in sweat, telling himself he’d never be there again.
“Nothing has changed,” Dr. Maria said at their emergency meeting this morning before school. “There is the past, and the present, and they inform each other, but they are different.”
“From what I’ve studied, he’s more likely to run,” Melissa had said last night.
Opinions coming at him from all sides.
Ly
ing awake near dawn, Eli had stared at the little robot he’d taken. It reminded him that Gabriel wasn’t just a monstrous shadow looming in a doorway. He was a screwed-up guy who’d been hiding out in his mother’s basement, who was a person, who’d been a kid, who’d had a normal thought about liking this tiny robot at some point. But that barely helped. He’d still done what he’d done to Eli. Nothing changed that.
And I’ll do it again.
Classes had been a lost cause today. He’d had a quiz in social studies and literally forgot to answer the questions on the back of the paper. Like his grade needed that. Hadn’t remembered to do his math homework either.
Every time he walked through the halls, his eyes flashed to each doorway alcove. To the shadow space beneath the bottom flight of stairs. Out windows to parking lots. He used the faculty bathrooms, even though he’d gone a solid two weeks using the normal ones.
The Purpose must be finished.
One good thing: all day, he’d had a strip of blue paper coiled around his finger. A note from Maya that had been in his locker when he’d gotten to school:
YOU GOT THIS!! :)
He hoped so.
After school, Eli made his way to the auditorium. When he arrived he found the main stage lights on, the first few rows of seats filled with the drama club. Ms. Mays stood onstage with Janice, blocking out the movements for a scene.
Eli slipped through the shadows and climbed the back stairs. The trapdoor was open, Graham’s backpack lying there. Eli left his beside it and crawled out onto the catwalk. Ms. Mays’s voice echoed up from below. He moved slowly, trying to keep the squeaking of the supports to a minimum.
Graham sat near the end of the catwalk that led toward the stage, legs dangling off the side. “Hey,” he whispered as Eli sat beside him. Just beyond their feet was a gap in the ceiling and a bank of stage lights. Through it, you could see half the drama kids. “You got the memo.”
Eli nodded.
“What’s wrong— Oh, right, damn, how are you doing? The house was all over the news! I didn’t hear about it until this morning. Was busy working on something top secret over the weekend, but, dude, that’s huge! Did they tell you about it ahead of time, or did you have to hear about it like the rest of us?”
“They took me there Saturday morning.”
“No way!” said Graham. “You should have texted me! And sent pictures.”
“They said no pictures.”
“Oh yeah, of course. What they showed on TV…the room you were in, the sicko porn setup, and that spider hole hideout…insane. So do they have anything on Gabriel now? Do they think he’s still in Seattle? He might get desperate, now that they’re closing in. You must be freaking out.”
“I’m trying not to think about it.”
“Well, here, this will take your mind off it.” Graham handed Eli a torn scrap of notebook paper from a pile in his lap.
Graham balled one up and popped it into his mouth. He made a sucking motion and then removed the tiny spitball. “Wanna play?” he said. “First one to hit a sheep wins.” He leaned against the catwalk railing and flicked the spitball down through the gap in the ceiling. It bounced off the lights and fell toward the seats, landing two rows behind the kids. “Crap. It’s actually really hard.”
Eli held the scrap for a second. What were they doing? His brain felt like mush.
“You make a ball with your tongue,” said Graham, working on another one. “Come on, try it.”
Eli scrunched up the paper and put it in his mouth. Took it out and flicked it. It soared toward the kids below, narrowly missing a girl and landing in the aisle.
Graham flicked another. It flew wildly off course. “I should have brought a straw.” He handed Eli another, but before either of them could ready their next one, Ms. Mays said something and clapped her hands, and the whole group stood and started filing up onto the stage.
“Oh well,” said Graham.
“I thought we were going to your house,” said Eli. It had been almost the only thing on his mind all day. “Pearson is probably outside by now.”
“Yeah, we are,” said Graham. “I just wanted to meet up here for a second to show you what I was working on all weekend. I even cut gym today to finish it.”
Eli swung his feet back and forth in the empty space beneath them. The air felt somehow heavy on his ankles, like it wanted to pull him over. “I thought you said you liked floor hockey?”
“Nah, it’s stupid.” Graham picked up a notebook from beside him. Eli saw him wince and rub his shoulder.
“What happened?”
“Nothing…Mateo and I got into it in the locker room.”
So you did go to gym, at least the beginning. Eli decided to let that go. And yet it pricked him a little: a feeling like he had to keep tabs on whether Graham was being honest with him. “Was it because of the thing you posted on his wall?”
“What? Oh, at the sleepover? Nah, this was different. And I didn’t really fight back. Can’t afford to get suspended right now.” Graham ran his fingernail along the little slats in the catwalk.
“Sorry about Mateo.”
“Nah, fuck him. Anyway, it was good because it gave me an excuse to finish this.” He opened the notebook to a page full of writing. “Remember the other night when we were talking at my sleepover? About how awesome it would be if there was an apocalypse?”
“Yeah…” Had they? He sort of remembered that, but there had been a lot of rum.
“I wrote something about it. Want to hear it?”
“Okay, but do we have time?” Be cool! he shouted at himself. Couldn’t sound too anxious to get to Graham’s or it might arouse suspicion.
“It’s only going to take like a minute. Is Pearson really going to freak out if we’re one minute late?”
“No, but I should text her.” He got out his phone and sent a message: Running a little late. Be right out.
“Okay,” said Graham. “I don’t have a title yet, but here goes: ‘Chapter 1: Another Day at the Office. They call me the Exterminator. My mother named me Jacob—’ ” His eyes flashed at Eli.
Eli tried to smile, but his body clenched at the same time.
“But my mother is dead. They’re all dead. Well, almost all of them. When humanity first saw the spaceships arrive three years ago, they greeted them with open arms. But the Trax from Centauri X weren’t interested in making friends. They hit the planet from orbit with de-atomizing bombs, instantly vaporizing the population. Seven billion gone, just like that. Only a few hundred thousand survived, through dumb luck.
“That’s where I come in.
“The Trax began mining the planet for precious minerals. But the surviving humans resorted to guerrilla warfare. So the Trax put out a call: any human willing to hunt down the others would be given dominion over Earth once the Trax were done with it. But first you had to pass a test of worthiness. Five hundred contestants lined up outside the great Trax governing ship. All of them were deemed unworthy and vaporized where they stood.
“All, that is, except for me. Let’s just say the Trax didn’t only want to see that you could kill; they wanted to see that you had a flair for ‘entertainment,’ and so they outfitted me with a robot horse, a handheld de-atomizing cannon, a quiver of exploding rocket arrows, and if all else failed, a machete made of pure quartz. I named the horse Lucyfer.
“It was time to get things done.
“Now, the sun is setting on another fine day, the buildings covered in vines, the sky clear of human filth, and I’m galloping through the silent streets of Los Angeles. Well, soon to be silent, that is. Because about a hundred feet ahead of me, there’s a woman screaming her head off, dragging her little daughter behind her. She’s running straight up the middle of the street just like the dumb sheep that she is. She’s lost one of her shoes, and her shirt is half-ripped off
. I gallop behind her, closing in but also taking my time. The rest of her clan is behind us, their bodies maimed and draped on the overturned cars and crumbled walls.
“The woman trips and falls. I stop Lucyfer, who snorts with annoyance. She can smell the blood and she’s programmed to home in. The mom looks back at me, sees me just standing here. Waiting. It’s no fun if she’s not trying.
“The kid tugs at her and she gets up and starts running and I kick Lucyfer and we’re off again. As we go, I thread an arrow and pull back the string. I could have taken them both out with the cannon by now, but this seems more sporting. And like I said, the Trax like a good show, and they’re always watching. So I let them run a little more, let her turn and see me one more time, then I send the arrow soaring through the evening sky. It catches the mom in the back and blows the top half of her body clean off. Another direct hit.
“The daughter is thrown sideways and lands against a burned-out bus. She’s covered in blood and brains, and when she sees the bloody stump of her mom, she just starts screaming. What an annoying sound.
“As my shadow falls over her, she quiets down. Her wide eyes look up at me in awe. She’s still whimpering.
“ ‘Stop crying and I’ll let you live,’ I say.
“She stops crying.
“ ‘Good girl.’ I lunge forward and get her with the machete, right across the neck.
“I ride out of town and up into the hills where Lucyfer can feed on the car batteries in the driveways of the formerly rich and famous. As she sucks down acid, I look back on the dead city. The only sound is a huge Trax ship humming high overhead, and the wind through the grass. Planet Earth the way it was always meant to be, free of the human plague. Peaceful and beautiful and finally in the hands of the worthy.
“I take a swig from my canteen. This morning I filled it with the finest scotch from some dead executive’s office in Beverly Hills.
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