Any Second

by Kevin Emerson

  You are never going to get better.

  TFW you realize you’ve been wasting your time.

  She looked at her drumsticks. Looked at the drums. Thought about a beat to play…

  Another sting, another spot of blood, another five minutes lost.

  How was Eli? She’d seen him at Graham and Mateo’s fight. Graham with the psycho move with the spork. That kid…Of course, he was probably suspended after today.

  The door opened and Ms. Reid walked in. “Oh, hey, Maya. Didn’t you get the message that there’s no practice today?”

  “Oh, right.” Maybe there had been an email about that or something.

  Ms. Reid crossed the room. “I’m sure you’ve been hearing what a great job you did last week.”

  What? The concert. Another life. “Thanks.”

  “Did you want to stay and jam out a little?”

  “Nah, that’s all right.” Maya stood and slid her sticks into her bag. Slouched down the levels. Headed for the door.

  “Maya.” Ms. Reid smiled kindly at her. “I know it hurts.”

  “I don’t—”

  She held up a hand. “I know about what happened last year, but that’s not even it. What I mean is: the world hurts, and you feel it. I see it on your face. The same sensitivity that lets you feel music so well, that lets you express yourself through it—that’s the same thing that leaves you open to the hurt and suffering. And sometimes it’s overwhelming.”

  Maya brushed away tears. “Yeah. How did you know that?”

  “Takes one to know one. And I can tell you from experience that it will get better, but it also won’t. Being open to the world is a gift, but the pain is part of it.”

  “It doesn’t feel like a gift.”

  “Some gifts come with responsibilities,” said Ms. Reid. “Like a puppy. I’m not trying to make light of it. Your creativity comes with the duty to protect yourself, to train yourself, but also to accept yourself. To take the beauty and the pain you experience…and make its music. I’m not saying that will always make it go away. But it will always help.”

  Maya nodded. “It doesn’t feel that easy.”

  “No, I know. And everybody’s different. But you’ve been through a lot, and you’re the kind of soul that feels a lot. I think just being aware of that is a good way to start. Make sense?”

  “Okay.” She turned toward the door—

  Ms. Reid tapped her shoulder. Maya turned and they hugged. “I’ve seen you do it,” Ms. Reid said quietly. Maya felt herself welling up as Ms. Reid let go. “Now, where do you think you’re going?”

  “Just home.”

  Ms. Reid shook her head and gave her a gentle push toward the drums. “Get back up there. I want to feel my office walls shake.”

  Maya smiled. “Okay.”

  She played until the cities were built and smashed and built again. Until her elbows and wrists were sore and she was covered in sweat, and the walls didn’t exactly shake, but a trombone case did fall over.

  On her bus ride home through sheeting rain, lighter: the feelings not gone, but asleep in their cages.

  She texted Eli. Two days to go. We’re going to make it. :)

  It was okay that he didn’t reply. The houses and street corners and the rumble of the bus were beats and she could feel every one. She got out her purple notebook and made a list to leave in his locker.

  * * *

  ***

  Her worries stayed at a whisper through the evening. Mom was working late, so Maya made her specialty three-course frozen dinner courtesy of Trader Joe’s: mac and cheese, turkey meatballs, and peas. Did her homework while eating, and was settling into the international home-buying show when Mom arrived.

  She was barely through the door when she said: “Detective Pearson called.” She explained about the cache of guns, the hard drive, the locations Gabriel had been scouting.

  Maya felt it seeping in, rattling the cages of the adrenaline-soaked sewer creatures that had been sleeping so soundly. Not just this shadow man, out there, but guns, bullets spraying into crowds, the way they did in so many places, but she’d never pictured her neighborhood.

  Don’t let it get to you.

  Maybe this news made her and Eli safer. Other places he was scouting. Other victims. But that wolf’s mask…

  She tried to focus on the show, but it wasn’t enough. Needed to scroll through her feeds too. Even a week later, there were still alerts from Janice’s post. Maya glazed her eyes and pushed past them and read other people’s updates: soccer games and swim meets, impromptu karaoke outside Cupcake Royale, new outfits, new tattoos, new romances. Some now, some yesterday, some about to happen. That familiar awareness that she was a weirdo for not posting, that not being part of this conversation meant she didn’t fully exist.

  Maya dug the Serenitab bottle out of her bag and tapped out a pill. She rolled her tongue around, gathering a shot of saliva, then popped the pill in and swallowed.

  Came upon an angry post by Janice and froze. Maya had unfollowed her, but sometimes she still showed up through mutual friends.

  This sick misogynistic shit needs to STOP.

  Janice had linked to a new video by Alpha_Ascendant called “Your Time Has Come.”

  Maya clicked it. Couldn’t resist.

  The video was like the prior ones she’d seen pieces of. This weird, washed-out figure with a wannabe video-game-villain voice:

  “Greetings, jocks and sluts…”

  Blah blah something about his cock. But as he went on, Maya found herself paying closer attention.

  “Life is loneliness, isn’t it? Every smile a lie. Deceit is the law, disappointment the norm, betrayal the currency. We only ever have ourselves.”

  She rescued her fingers from her hair. This pervert was gross, but as fucked up as he was, she knew those feelings he described. Had watched their fearsome shadow theater in her mind, torn herself apart to avoid them. Not all that twisted stuff about judgment days and whatever. But the sadness, the loneliness: she’d been there.

  And yet…maybe she wasn’t there anymore. This week felt harder, more uncertain than ever, but not as bad as last month, or any other time this year. Was she actually getting better? Renee had said that at some point, her brain would heal, her chemicals would balance, she would at least reach a manageable state. It might not be possible to tell exactly when you got there—you couldn’t watch your brain heal like a cut on your finger—but one day you’d realize that it had happened.

  Maybe, just maybe, she was improving.

  But also: was anything more being done to find this Alpha? The school had sent that email. Said they’d notified the police, but they were so busy with Gabriel.

  Most kids seemed to treat the videos as a prank, but Maya wasn’t sure. The hurt in them felt real. And deep, even deeper than she’d been. Who knew what you would really do, if you were hurting badly enough?

  Maybe she was making too much of it. Maybe she was just on edge about Friday…

  A few minutes slipped. Hush, said Serenitab, arriving with the deck chairs and blankets and a steaming mug, the fog thickening beyond the ship railings.

  I hope you’re hanging in there tonight, she texted Eli.

  Mom slumped onto the couch beside her with a microwave burrito in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in the other. “How are you holding up?”

  “Fine. How about you?”

  “Work was insane. One of those days when you think about moving to Fiji.”

  “Can it be Bora Bora?” Maya nodded at the home-buying show. “Really cute fish.”

  “Some days it sounds pretty nice to run away from everything.” Mom put the plastic bag on the coffee table. “Will you settle for one pint of Ben and Jerry’s each? There was a sale. I got hot fudge too.”

  Maya smiled. “
I’ll get spoons.”

  * * *

  ***

  She got to school Thursday with a plan: connect with Eli, no matter what. He thought he was keeping her safe by keeping his distance, and she’d decided that was bullshit. She wasn’t going through these next two days without him.

  The plan began at lunch: sitting a couple tables over from him. She’d follow him out at the end. Find a moment. Make a moment, dammit.

  Except ten minutes after lunch began, he packed up and left. Maya got a pass to the library and followed him at a distance. But he didn’t go to the library. Instead, he took an odd route through school: downstairs to the math wing and then back up by the gym, avoiding the office, walking quickly with his head down, tugging his backpack straps, high-top sneakers scuffing.

  What was he up to? She nearly called out to him, but there was always an open door, a straggler or two.

  When he entered the auditorium she peered inside and saw him going up to that door in the back. Remembered what he’d told her, about the catwalks that you got to climb around on for Tech Squad—or use to spy on girls—how he and Graham liked to hang out up there. Although wasn’t Graham suspended?

  She sat down in a red seat in the first row of the rear section, waiting for Eli to come down. It squealed as it reclined, echoing in the giant, empty space. She leaned back, resting her head on the cool metal rim of the chair. Stretched her legs out. In the silence, she could almost hear her body humming, processors spinning at full speed. She closed her eyes and tried to play through one of her new charts by memory, her thighs the snare and ride.

  Then she heard the faintest creaking sound and gazed up at the ceiling. Hundreds of angled white tiles. Eli, up there somewhere.

  You can look down on the seats, he’d said. She wondered if he could see her.

  But her mind wrote another measure to this song, ideas with similar melodies linking together:

  I’ve watched you from above for so long….

  Maya sat up.

  My judgment will rain down….

  She stood and hurried up the stairs, her heart galloping. Pulled the door open and climbed the steep staircase, hands on the walls to either side. At the top: a short hall and then the trapdoor in the wall. Open. She stopped and stared at the door. Removed the cuticle on her left ring finger—Ugh, why now?—and wondered if she should climb in there or not.

  Then the metal creaked and Eli’s sneakers and legs appeared. He slid out and saw her and froze.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “We need to talk.” Maya eyed the trapdoor. “Graham’s not here, right?”

  Eli shook his head.

  “Listen, I have to tell you something. I’m not a hundred percent sure about it, but I think—”

  Eli’s face drained. “Is it Gabriel?”

  “No, this is about Graham. I think he might be…” She saw Eli’s eyes widen. “You already know, don’t you? That he’s the Alpha.”

  Eli’s head dropped. “Yeah.”

  “Oh my God. Have you told anyone?”

  “Like who?”

  “Like the police? Detective Pearson?”

  He sort of shrugged. “He’d get in big trouble. And I don’t—I don’t think he’s really a danger—”

  “Have you seen his latest video? He’s talking about a date of retribution. That it’s coming up. About this friend who abandoned him. That’s you, isn’t it? Do you think the date he’s talking about is tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. But I don’t—”

  “Eli! We have to tell someone.”

  “They’re just stupid videos,” said Eli. “Graham gets big ideas, but he’s also sad about the world. And he doesn’t have any other friends.”

  “I get that, but he’s talking about killing people, and I’ve seen how violent he can get. What has he said to you lately?”

  “We haven’t talked. He’s mad because I chose you over him.”

  “How exactly did you do that?”

  “Because I came to your concert instead of going to a show with him.”

  “Okay—not sure he should be upset about that, but whatever. Look, do you really think he’s not a danger?”

  “I…” Eli sighed, a lonely, defeated sound. “He talked one time about making the roof collapse. There’s a junior class assembly tomorrow morning.”

  “Eli…”

  His shoulders slumped. “It’s my fault. He got all those ideas from me. I’m too dangerous. I just sent him a letter….”

  Maya stepped over and hugged him. “You are not the one who’s dangerous. You never have been. Gabriel is dangerous. Graham is dangerous.”

  “I was dangerous to you. I messed your life up.”

  “Okay, I mean, sorta, but my life was already messed up. And you’re definitely not messing up Graham’s life, you’re saving it.” Maya put a hand on his head. “We’re going to fix this. Together.”

  Eli sobbed into her shoulder. “I can’t go back.”

  “Where?”

  “The dark.”

  “You mean Gabriel.”

  “I know he’s coming.”

  “He’s not—” Maya stopped. “You’re not going back. I won’t let you. We’re going to make it.”

  “Okay,” Eli said quietly.

  “What else has Graham said?”

  “He showed me pipe bomb designs online. He said his dad had the right kinds of pipes.”

  “Does he know how to build them?”

  “I don’t know. He asked me if I wanted to help him. With his plan.” He touched his head. “He said that it was the only way to make all the noise in here stop. Don’t you ever feel like he’s right? That the noise will never stop?” He reached around and patted his backpack. “Sometimes I think…”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  Maya hugged him tighter. “All I know is, it stops when I’m with you.” She gripped his shoulders and held him out in front of her. “Come on. We’re calling Pearson. Okay?”

  “Will they put him in jail?”

  “I have no idea. But whatever they do, it will be the safest thing for him. Now let’s go.”

  “You go first.”

  “Right. Meet by the back doors. Behind the auditorium, okay?” Maya started down the stairs. Looked at him. Smiled. “We got this.”

  Eli just nodded.

  Maya returned to the auditorium. When she reached the doors leading to the hallway, she stopped and watched the top of the steps.

  Waiting…

  Eli emerged, head down, holding his backpack straps. And a minute later he joined her outside the back door.

  Stood there silently as Maya made the call.

  * * *

  ***

  Going to class was nearly worthless after that. Sitting there, simmering, not absorbing a thing. But Maya also didn’t go anywhere else in her head. Not back to the mall. Not beneath her skin. Didn’t explode. She floated on the surface. Pinned to now. Counting the minutes until the end of the day when she could text Eli. Check on him. Math, bio…finally, she was on the bus.

  How you holding up?

  Fine. Dawes is driving me home. Do you think Pearson is already at Graham’s?

  No. She said they needed to get a warrant. Everything’s crazy with the hunt for Gabriel, but they should have it first thing in the morning. They’re watching him now, though.

  Okay.

  It was the right thing to do.

  I know.

  Maya sat on the crowded bus home. Wondered if there were officers on board, watching her too. Around her: people with lives, busy in their heads. People who had no idea what was out there. Graham’s house probably looked just like Gabriel’s from the outside. You just didn’t know.

  * * *

  ***

 
Her phone buzzed just after nine.

  Hey.

  How was the rest of your day?

  Fine. Bad. I feel guilty.

  It’s not your fault. We did the right thing.

  I should have talked him out of it. I don’t know why I didn’t.

  Hey, I just said it’s not your fault. :)

  I know. But still.

  Look at us. We get to be heroes again.

  Eli didn’t respond. Maya looked over the texts and realized she’d just referred to herself as a hero. If her mom only knew…

  A minute later she wrote:

  You there?

  Yeah.

  I’m going to say something weird, so don’t think I’m weird.

  Okay.

  Maya paused. You have to be careful, you don’t know what he’s—

  Typed anyway.

  I love you, friend.

  She added: I told you it was weird, but I don’t mean it weird. Maybe love is a weird word to use. But I care about you. I know you feel lonely but I’m never going to leave you alone, you got that?

  I care about you too. I want you to be safe.

  I am safe. Safer now than I was before, I think.

  We’re not safe.

  No, but we have each other.

  Dots appeared as if Eli was responding, then vanished.

  Hello?

  I have to go. Melissa just got home. Late dinner.

  Roger. See you tomorrow! A good ol’ normal Friday. Completely unimportant.

  Thanks for being such a good friend.

  You are very welcome. ’Kay, good night. Love you in the not-weird way. xo (Not weird either!)

  Eli replied with a thumbs-up.

  October 26

  “Time to wake up,” Eli’s mom said, cracking open his door.

  Eli stared at the ceiling.

  Today is the day, my son.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  Had he slept? It seemed like he’d watched each hour tick by.