by Spencer Baum
“I’ll arrange with one of my visitors to get my items here,” Nicky said.
“Very good. Your dress will be provided for you. You need to change into it before visiting hours start.”
After Edith left, Nicky took a bubble bath in the luxurious Jacuzzi tub. When she got out, she found a white dress with a plunging neckline laid out on the bed. On the floor next to the bed was a pair of silver heels with rubies glued into the straps. There was a jewelry case open on the dresser—it hadn’t been there before. Nicky went up to it and found it full of choices, most of them silver and adorned with rubies.
Whoever was responsible for her outfit had been paying attention. Silver jewelry had been her trademark all year, and the rubies not only matched her dial on the safe, but the pendant she had worn to Daciana’s party.
After lunch, a hair and makeup artist arrived to help Nicky finish her look. Nicky allowed him to do her makeup, but told him she would take care of her own hair.
“I’ll be honoring the clan with an item in my hair,” she said. “It isn’t here yet.”
Decked out in a white dress, with silver shoes, silver jewelry, and dramatic makeup, Nicky was ready for visiting hours. In the final moments before visiting hours began, she wrote down a listing of the three items she would wear to honor the clan, and where to find the items in her bedroom.
She gave that list to Jill, who was the very first guest to show up.
“Look at you,” Jill said. “All decked out in white like these girls in the portraits.”
“The portraits are really something, aren’t they?” said Nicky. “Come have a look at this one over here.”
Nicky walked Jill to a portrait marked Sandra Rennselar, killed by Nora Jamison, 1961.
There was nothing special about the portrait itself—it showed a corpse whose white dress was drenched in blood, just like the others. Nicky wanted Jill to see what was next to the portrait. On a thin section of wall between this picture and the one next to it, there was a small black circle, countersunk into the drywall.
A camera.
Be careful what you say, we’re not alone—that was the message Nicky was trying to convey to Jill as they looked at the portrait of Sandra Rennselar.
Jill seemed to understand.
“I feel bad for everything that’s happened between us this year,” she said. “More than I can easily put into words. But I gave it my best shot.”
Jill pulled an envelope from her back pocket and handed it to Nicky. “A letter for you,” she said. “With everything I want to say to you, but can’t.”
“Oddly enough, I have a letter for you too,” Nicky said. “Well, not a letter so much as a message.” She gave Jill the paper with the list of items she needed for her outfit. “Do you think you could arrange for someone to gather these things for me? I need them before visiting hours end.”
Jill read over the list. “I’m sure someone can get these to you today,” she said.
In the front room, the door opened, and Edith welcomed in another guest.
“I wonder who that is,” said Nicky. “I really wasn’t expecting a lot of people to drop by today.”
She leaned her head around to look past Jill, wondering if maybe it was Ryan who had come through the door. Or Phillip and Helena, here to play the role of the grieving parents.
Or Art, having come to explain himself.
It was none of them. The person who walked through the door was Samantha Kwan.
“I should go,” Jill said.
“Okay,” said Nicky. She almost followed it up with See you later, but realized that would have been a poor choice.
As Jill walked out of the room, Samantha walked in.
“Hi,” Nicky said. “I’m surprised to see you.”
“I came to pay my respects,” Samantha said. “You know, for a long time, I thought it was going to be me staying in this house the night before prom.”
“Well, good for you that it isn’t,” Nicky said.
“You know, I don’t really think of it that way. I hope I don’t sound callous, but a part of me is jealous of you.”
Oh boy, Nicky thought. Here we go.
“You’re going to get your own form of immortality,” Samantha said. “Nobody remembers the girls who finished in the middle, but the loser, she gets her portrait on the wall, and the knowledge that her blood launched the new immortal into life.”
“They’re not rockets, Samantha.”
“I know, I’m just…I’m sorry. It’s probably offensive what I’m saying.”
“No. It’s not offensive. Just stupid.”
Samantha was taken aback at Nicky’s words.
“All these girls in these bloody portraits are dead,” Nicky said. “Killed in the prime of their lives, a few days before their high school graduations.”
“But that’s just it,” Samantha said. “They are young forever.”
“No they’re not. They were young when they were killed. Now they’re dead forever.”
“I understand how this could upset you. I’ll shut up now. I just want you to know, there are people in the school, people like me, who don’t think you’re a loser. In my mind, Mary finished in first place, and you finished in second.”
“You can always go home and kill yourself if that’s what floats your boat,” Nicky said.
Samantha’s jaw dropped. “I think I’ll leave now,” she said.
“Have a good afternoon. Say hi to the other girls for me tonight, will you?”
“Sure, Nicky.”
Samantha was acting pouty. Nicky wanted to slap her across the face and remind her that, were it not for Jill’s generous gift at the Rose Ransom, Samantha would soon be dead.
“Samantha, wait,” Nicky said. “Forgive me for being rude. You can imagine why I might be feeling a bit snarky today, can’t you?”
Samantha nodded. “Of course,” she said. She looked like she was about to cry.
“I need to ask a favor of you. It’s a message I want you to deliver for me. You know, for after I’m dead.”
“Sure, Nicky. I’d be glad to. Who is the message for?”
“I want you to deliver it to Kim Renwick, but it’s not just for her. It’s for anyone you want to tell it to. It can even be for you, if you like.”
“What’s the message?”
“You don’t have to be an asshole. Life is better when you’re not.”
Samantha smiled. “Seriously?” she said.
“My dying words,” Nicky said. “I think it would be good for Kim to hear them.”
“I’ll do that, Nicky.”
“Excellent. Now give me a hug and get the hell out of here.”
The rest of the afternoon was quiet. Visitors were few and far between. After Samantha left, Nicky opened Jill’s letter, careful to stand in a place where no surveillance camera could see it.
In the small bedroom, there’s a window facing the courtyard.
That was the letter’s first sentence. Nicky smiled when she read it. Good old Jill. A plan for everything.
When it’s safe, walk over to that window and look outside.
Nicky went into the smaller bedroom and approached the window.
You’ll see a black Corolla parked on the street next to the gym.
Nicky spotted it. A black sedan with tinted windows, parked immediately in front of an exit door on the north side of the gym.
That car will be parked there until you drive it away. The driver’s side door is unlocked. The keys are in the glove box.
Nicky looked at the guard standing watch underneath the window. She liked this plan. No crazy schemes with agents storming into the house with guns blazing. Just Nicky and a getaway car, waiting for her whenever she was ready to take it.
At eleven o’clock, you are supposed to walk out of the Purgatory House and take a leisurely stroll in the moonlight, with thoughts of the beauty of life and death in your mind. The guards are expecting you to walk under the trellis and then enter
the gym through the back door. You’re going to do just that.
When you get inside, there will be a stairwell in front of you. You’re supposed to climb it to the top and then go through the door to enter the gym. Don’t. The minute you go through the back door, you’ll see another door to your immediate right. I will make sure that door is unlocked for you. Go through it. You’ll find a hallway on the other side. Take the hallway to the first door on your right. That door is the exit on the north side of the gym. You’ll go through it and the Corolla will be right there waiting for you.
Nicky looked again at the Corolla. This was a good plan. She was proud of Jill for coming up with it.
She put the letter back in the envelope, took it to the bedroom, and placed it in the top drawer of the nightstand. By the time Daciana found this letter, Nicky and Jill would already be long gone.
It made Nicky smile to imagine Daciana reading the letter and realizing just how thoroughly she’d been played.
Winthrop Drummond came to visit a little after four o’clock, wanting to reminisce about Brawl in the Fall, and a toast he watched Nicky give in a crowded trailer.
“That was so awesome when you did that thing with the fire and your drink,” he said. “And, you know, I guess there’s no harm in telling you now, I was totally hot for you that night, and I’ve sorta had a crush on you ever since.”
“That’s sweet, Winthrop,” she said. “You can go now.”
Thirty minutes later, Mattie Dupree showed up, and gave a tearful apology for abandoning Nicky after the Rose Ransom.
“I always liked you best,” she said between sobs. “I wish I wasn’t such a pushover, but the pressure at school—it’s so intense!”
“Relax, Mattie. All is forgiven,” Nicky said. “You were part of a scheme to ensure Kim Renwick didn’t win. And she didn’t. Take comfort in that.”
“Wow, how can you be so strong at a moment like this?” Mattie said.
“It’s the pills,” Nicky said. “Lots and lots of pills. On your way now. You’ve got to go home and start getting ready for prom.”
Two more hours passed in silence. Nicky used that time to locate every camera and microphone in the house. She figured there were dead spots, where no cameras could see her, near the front door and in the bedroom.
She also could make a dead spot in the parlor if she re-arranged a few of the portraits on the wall.
At six o’clock, Ryan arrived. He brought the items from Jill’s list with him.
“A necklace, a bracelet, and…two ugly metal rods,” he said, placing the items down on a table. Nicky put on the jewelry first, then picked up the metal rods and used them to pull up her hair.
“So what’s the significance of all these things?” Ryan said.
“I have to wear something to honor the school, the clan, and the contest,” Nicky said.
“I’m taking it you’ve got a little story for each of them?” Ryan asked.
“I’m sure I can come up with something to tell Daciana when it’s time.”
“Look, Nicky, things have changed since the last time we talked. I’ve learned something, something about myself.”
“Don’t get too mushy on me now,” Nicky said. Then, leaning in a bit closer, “There are people listening to everything we say in here.”
“Okay,” said Ryan. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t want to say anything embarrassing then. I’ll just tell you that, I wasn’t myself these past few months. I know that now. And I wish there was time for you and me to talk about it. I wish there was time for you and me to talk about everything.”
“Me too, Ryan.”
“Right. Well, I guess I’d better go. The sun’s starting to set.”
“Have a good time tonight,” Nicky said. “Thanks for coming to see me.”
She gave him a big hug, and used the opportunity to whisper in his ear.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
Ryan leaned his head back, and looked in Nicky’s eyes, his arms still around her back.
“Yes,” he said. “I can’t wait.”
Ryan left. Another hour passed. It grew dark outside. Students began arriving at the gym, and parking on the street. Nicky went back to the window in the small bedroom and looked out at the Corolla. Ryan’s orange Lamborghini was parked behind it now.
And the ’66 Vicenza was parked just across the street.
The front door opened, and Daciana came inside.
“Good evening, Nicky,” she said. “Do you feel ready?”
“I do.”
In her mind, Nicky saw herself wearing a white dress and saying I do, and nearly let out a giggle.
Control yourself, she thought. This is the last time you’ll ever have to see this woman. Play the part. Somber, about to die, programmed to accept your fate.
“You know, I’m really going to enjoy driving around that Vicenza,” Daciana said. “For years, it will remind me of you.”
“I’m glad,” Nicky said. “I’ve always thought it was the coolest car ever made.”
“Oh, it is, without question. That car is the greatest achievement of an era when people took pride in their work and understood the value of aesthetics. I was so impressed when I learned you owned one, and am even more impressed that you knew to give it to me. I can’t think of a Coronation gift I’ve liked more.”
“I’ll think about that tonight,” Nicky said. “When it’s time.”
“That’s an excellent idea. Focus on the good you’ve done during your time, not on the good you might have done in the future.”
“Yes, that sounds right to me. The good I’ve done. The time I’ve had.”
“Sometimes people ask me if I’m sad for the girls who lose Coronation, and the honest answer is no. In truth, I’m happy for them. I’m happy for you, Nicky. In the grand scheme of things, a life that lasts twenty years is hardly different from a life that lasts ninety. All that matters is what you do with the time you have, and you, just like all the other girls who’ve slept in this house, did something special. You put yourself out there, risking your life to try and win the ultimate prize. In the past year, you’ve lived more than most people who make it to old age.”
“That’s a comforting thought. Thank you for taking the time to share it with me.”
“It’s my pleasure, Nicky. Now, we have some business to attend to. After you enter the cage, but before you die, I will make a presentation to the other students about the items on your outfit that honor the clan, the school, and the contest. Tell me about them, please.”
Nicky extended her left arm, showing off her bracelet.
“I wore this silver cuff to the Homecoming Masquerade,” she said. “I’m wearing it again tonight to honor the Coronation contest. The bracelet was on my arm when I entered the contest, and will be on my arm again when I exit.”
“Very nice. What else?”
Nicky grabbed the pendant that hung from her neck. “I’m wearing this ruby necklace to honor the clan,” she said. “The ruby dial on the safe was turned to my number when it opened. You chose to associate me with a ruby, so to honor you, and all the immortals in your clan, I wore a ruby pendant.”
“It’s a beautiful pendant,” Daciana said, leaning in close to look at it. “It’s been many years since I’ve seen a ruby that large. May I ask where you got it?”
“Someone gave it to me,” Nicky said. “Someone I care about.”
“It’s exquisite, and will look marvelous on you after you die. Now, tell me what you’re wearing to honor the school.”
Nicky turned her back to Daciana, and lightly touched the back of her hair with her hand.
“I’m holding up my hair tonight with two metal rods formed into a cross. I received only one lantern at the festival, but it was very special to me. These rods were the crossbars of that lantern. Finding that lantern is one of my favorite memories of my time at Thorndike, so to honor the school, I wore the crossbars in my hair.”
“Oh Nicky, you have a flair
about you that I rarely get to see. If I got to choose the new immortal from this year’s class, things might have turned out differently for you. Sadly, even I must respect the traditions that guide us here at Thorndike.”
“It’s about the ritual,” Nicky said. “The ritual is everything.”
“Indeed it is.”
Daciana let the words hang for a minute. Her eyes drifted away from Nicky. She was thinking about something, perhaps one of her own rituals, maybe even the ritual that failed.
The ritual that created Sergio.
“Well, it’s been a lovely visit with you,” Daciana said. “Is there anything you want to ask me before I go?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then I will leave you alone with your thoughts. Prom is about to begin. When it’s time for you to leave the house and join us at prom, you’ll know. For most girls, it’s a beautiful experience. You will feel complete acceptance of your own death. There will be no fear, no anger, and no sorrow. You’ll take your time walking under the moonlight, and when you enter the cage, you’ll find there’s no place you’d rather be. Goodbye, Nicky Bloom. It’s been a pleasure to know you.”
Chapter 44
The delivery truck arrived at Daciana’s mansion late on Saturday afternoon. The driver, a man whose face wasn’t familiar to the servant manning the gate, presented his badge from Safari Freight & Storage and explained he was new at the company.
The bar code on his badge checked out. The delivery was accepted. The servant opened the gate and instructed the driver to take his cargo to the loading dock on the back side of the house.
Two more servants met the truck out back. The driver told them to be careful with the single crate he had for delivery. “See that fragile sticker on the side?” the driver said. “We’re going to put this one down carefully.”
The crate came off the truck and the servants rolled it into the storage room of Daciana’s house. The driver took his truck off the property, waiting until he was out of view to grab his phone and send a text message.
The message was only two words long. Two words that were transformed into a stream of encrypted data that flew through the airwaves, traveling thirty miles to a cell tower in Arlington, then again to Potomac, arriving on Jill Wentworth’s phone where the matching encryption key transformed the digital bits back into letters and words.
