by Pearl Love
The creature covered its eyes with one hand and an ear with the other, but it couldn’t block out either the music or the light. With a final screech, it melted away into nothingness before Jeremy’s eyes, the hideous sound of its scream disappearing along with it.
Jeremy sat staring at the spot where the creature had been moments before. His chest was heaving as though he’d just run a marathon. When he felt safe enough to look away, he saw that the alley had returned to normal. The oppressive fog was gone along with the heat and the putrid stench. The body, however, remained, and he rushed to the prone figure’s side.
“Hey, are you okay?” he shouted. He bit his lip when he didn’t receive an answer.
The guy was lying facedown, but Jeremy didn’t see any blood, so he gingerly turned him over, hoping he wasn’t causing any damage. The guy looked to be a little older than him, maybe a first or second-year college student. He didn’t have any visible wounds, and if Jeremy hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought the guy was just a drunk who’d passed out in the alley.
“Hey!” he tried again, this time shaking the guy’s shoulder. Monica had insisted all of her children attend a first aid seminar a few years ago when one of their neighbor’s sons had nearly drowned in the YMCA pool. Remembering what he’d learned, he pressed his fingers against the side of the guy’s neck. “Please don’t be dead,” he whispered. He breathed a sigh of profound relief when he felt a weak but steady pulse.
He reached for his cell phone with shaky hands. His first thought was to call 9-1-1. His second was to call Tyrell.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
Jeremy thought fast. “Uh, I found a guy lying in an alley off of Halsted between Roscoe Street and Buckingham Place.”
“Is he conscious?”
“No,” Jeremy replied, “but he has a pulse.”
“Which direction does the alley you’re in run?”
“East-west. You can only get to it from either Roscoe or Buckingham,” Jeremy said, adding helpfully, “not from Halsted or Clark.”
“Okay, sir. Wait there and an EMT unit will be at your location shortly.”
As soon as the dispatcher disconnected the call, Jeremy rang Tyrell.
“Hey, are you home?”
Jeremy took a deep breath. Just the sound of Tyrell’s voice calmed him tremendously, making him feel less alone. “No, but I just saw something totally insane.”
“What happened?” Tyrell’s voice was tense.
Jeremy tried to relay what he could about the monster, though as he listened to his description, even he could hardly believe what he was saying.
“You’re shitting me,” Tyrell said predictably.
“I wish to God I were. But other than seeing that thing, everything else was the same, though more intense. Well, except for….”
“Except for what?”
Jeremy shook his head in wonder. “It was the weirdest thing. This time, my pendant didn’t merely glow, it, like, fed me sound.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know,” Jeremy said tiredly. “I can’t really explain it except the pendant was making noise, but the sound came out of my mouth. I’m guessing that, along with the light, is what drove the demon away.”
“Demon?” Tyrell asked, his voice hollow.
“Yeah, I know how that sounds,” Jeremy said. “But I can’t think of a better way to describe it.”
Tyrell’s heavy sigh crackled through the speaker. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to come up to your place?”
Jeremy fought down the urge to say yes. He tilted his head to the side when the wail of a siren reached his ears. “No, I’m okay. I think the ambulance is on its way.” He glanced down at the man, who was still unconscious, though Jeremy could see his chest moving. “I hope this guy will be all right.”
“Me too. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said with a chuckle. “And thanks.” He began to breathe easier, his heartbeat began to slow to a more normal rhythm as he was reassured by Tyrell’s concern. A fond smile was still on his lips when the ambulance turned down the alley.
Chapter TWENTY-SIX
“NO WAY,” Jeremy breathed. “That happened when you were on your way home from the party?”
“Yeah,” Tyrell replied. “It’s almost exactly like what you described, except I didn’t see any monsters.”
Jeremy shivered. “Well, be grateful for that.”
By unspoken agreement, Tyrell had been waiting for Jeremy at the bus stop. Jeremy hadn’t been surprised to find him there. Rather, the grin that lit up Jeremy’s face when he saw him made Tyrell feel about ten feet tall. Since Monday had been the observance of Columbus Day, they’d had to wait an extra day to see each other, and Tyrell for one had felt the delay keenly.
“You sure you’re okay?” He looked Jeremy over carefully, examining him for hidden injuries, though he might have been ogling a little as well. They walked close together, and their arms brushed occasionally. He noted that Jeremy seemed equally disinclined to put any additional space between them.
“I’m sure.” Jeremy glanced up at Tyrell. “But why didn’t you mention it before? About what happened after the party, I mean.”
“We weren’t exactly on speaking terms back then,” Tyrell answered drolly.
Jeremy’s lips curved in a rueful smile. “Oh, right. Still, you could have said something at your place on Saturday.”
“I had more important things on my mind.” Tyrell smirked when Jeremy promptly flushed pink. “And I didn’t want to worry you if it turned out to be nothing.”
“That clearly wasn’t the case.” Jeremy went silent for a moment while he toyed with his pendant. Tyrell could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “After I got home, I remembered what your grandmother said about this.”
“She was probably just talking crazy.” Tyrell grimaced. “She does that more often these days.”
Jeremy looked at him sympathetically. “I understand, but what she said got me thinking. Back when I was first trying to research the pendant’s meaning, I thought about looking in my brother’s journals to see if he’d said anything about it. After what happened Saturday night, I finally did.”
Tyrell’s eyes widened with interest. “And did he?”
“No, not even once,” Jeremy replied, frowning. “But it was like the omission was almost, I don’t know, deliberate.”
“What do you mean?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Chris talked about everything in those journals. I learned stuff about him I would have rather never known.” He blushed slightly, and Tyrell chuckled, obviously catching Jeremy’s meaning. “However he never said a single word about this thing.” He rubbed the dark blue stone with his thumb. “Considering he wore it all the time, you’d think he’d have at least mentioned it, but I couldn’t find anything. Do you still think Mr. Crabtree knows more than he’s letting on?”
Tyrell blinked at the sudden shift in subject, but he quickly caught up with Jeremy’s thought process. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I doubt he’ll just outright cop to it.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I guess we can try pressing him for information after practice today. Maybe we’ll have more luck this time.”
“Hopefully.” Jeremy clenched his fist around the pendant.
As they continued their slow amble toward school, Tyrell half hoped they never got there. Walking together with Jeremy like this could easily become the highlight of his day. Unfortunately, four blocks proved far too short a distance, and the buildings of Winton Yowell soon came into view. He smiled at Jeremy as they parted after entering the main building, wanting but not daring to give him a kiss.
Their reunion in homeroom was all too brief since Mr. Crabtree was there before either of them arrived. He started taking attendance as soon as the bell rang announcing second period, robbing them of any opportunity to interact. Tyrell glared at Mr. Crabtree uncharitably, annoyed that, for once, he’d actually been on time. H
e supposed he’d have to be satisfied with being able to look at Jeremy, even though they couldn’t talk.
Third and fourth period dragged on interminably, but finally, lunchtime arrived. Due to the large student body, lunch ran both fourth and fifth periods. Tyrell was glad he and his closest friends all shared the same break schedule. His fourth-period art class was close to the lunchroom, so as usual, he arrived first. Ryan caught up with him while he was in line to get a drink to go with his bagged lunch.
“So have you and Jeremy kissed and made up?”
Tyrell glanced at Ryan suspiciously, but he could tell from his friend’s innocent expression that he hadn’t meant anything more than the idiomatic sense of the phrase. “I guess,” he said nonchalantly. “He finally accepted my apology.”
Ryan chuckled. “Not surprising after you scared the crap out of Jeff and his goons Friday after school.”
“You heard about that?”
“Dude, the whole school heard about that.”
Tyrell didn’t particularly care. His only concern had been for Jeremy’s safety and getting back in his good graces. He noticed a few people staring at him as he and Ryan searched the cafeteria for a free table, but none of them were hostile. In fact, more than one person smiled at him encouragingly as he passed. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
They nabbed a table near the window and settled in. Tyrell had no reason to think Jeremy wouldn’t join them for lunch, but the knot that had lodged in his stomach without him even realizing it disappeared when he saw Cynthia and Jeremy emerge from the food line. Cynthia spotted them first and pointed out the table to Jeremy with a nod of her head. Jeremy followed her lead as she made her way toward them. Tyrell almost forgot to eat when he realized Jeremy was staring directly at him with a happy expression on his pretty face.
“Greetings, minions,” Cynthia said as she sat down.
Tyrell tore his gaze away from Jeremy long enough to shoot her a suspicious glance. Her lips were curved in a beatific smile, but otherwise, she seemed content to simply enjoy her lunch. As he’d suspected, however, her false serenity didn’t last longer than a few minutes.
Jeremy stared at Cynthia in shock when she suddenly broke into tears. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing,” she stammered, barely comprehensible. She sniffed, her breathing audibly hampered by her stuffed nose. “I’m just so happy.”
Tyrell rolled his eyes and took refuge in his ham sandwich. He noticed Jeremy did the same with his spaghetti and remembered Jeremy had three older sisters. He was probably used to such inexplicable girly behavior.
Ryan wasn’t so smart. “If you’re happy, then why the hell are you crying?”
Cynthia reached out and smacked him on the arm.
“Ow!” Ryan glared at her and rubbed at his abused bicep. “You’ve gone crazy, woman!”
Cynthia beamed at them. “Isn’t this nice? The four of us all having lunch together again?” Her eyes were still puffy, but her tears had vanished as though they had never existed.
Jeremy sniggered, and Tyrell merely shook his head. Maybe she was PMSing, he mused, though he’d never ask. He didn’t have a death wish.
“I heard about what happened at the party, Jeremy.” Cynthia gazed at him sadly. “You never should have had to go through that. I wish I’d been there.”
Jeremy shook his head. “It’s fine. Those guys are a bunch of assholes, but somehow, I don’t think they’ll be bothering me again.” He flicked his gaze toward Tyrell and smiled shyly.
“Huh!” Ryan exclaimed. “They’d better not. Coach already benched them for the rest of the year thanks to yours truly.” He grinned and winked at Jeremy, who was staring at him in disbelief.
“You’re the one who got them in trouble?” Jeremy asked incredulously. “Why?”
Ryan sobered instantly. “Because I didn’t want those assholes bringing down the good name of my team or our school with their bullshit. What they did was uncalled for. So what if you’re gay?” Ryan smirked. “So long as you don’t hit on me.”
Tyrell glared at him as Jeremy laughed out loud.
“Don’t worry about that,” Jeremy said with a giggle. “I do have standards.”
Ryan reared back in exaggerated shock. “What are you trying to say? That I’m not hot enough for you?”
Cynthia rolled her eyes. “You’re not hot enough for anyone, Gage.”
Ryan lifted an eyebrow at her. “That’s not what you said the other day.”
As Cynthia sputtered in outrage, Jeremy continued to chuckle at their antics. Tyrell watched his three friends joke around, secure in the knowledge that everything was right in his particular world.
TYRELL’S GOOD mood lasted through the rest of the day even after he ended up getting a C-minus on his pop quiz in American History. He didn’t know why he could remember the names of obscure British poets but couldn’t for the life of him recall what year the American Revolutionary War ended. After making a mental note to ask his history teacher for study tips, Tyrell put the bad grade behind him and headed for the band room.
When he arrived, he saw Jeremy was already there, locked in conversation with Patricia. He tamped down his reflexive surge of jealousy, which now, of course, made perfect sense, and hopped down the stairs until he’d reached the main floor. Jeremy must have seen him approaching, because he looked up with an expression that begged Tyrell to save him.
“Hey, Patricia,” Tyrell said by way of greeting. “How’s it going?”
Patricia blinked up at him, and Tyrell realized this was the first time he’d ever spoken to her.
“Oh, um, fine thanks.” She glanced nervously at Jeremy. “We were just talking about the new jazz ensemble you two are forming.”
Tyrell nodded. “We haven’t set a start date for practice yet, but hopefully we’ll begin soon. Jeremy and I have pretty much settled on the first songs we want to try out.”
“That’s good.” Patricia clasped her hands tightly in front of her. “I don’t suppose you could use a flute player in the group?”
His instinct was to tell her to fuck off, but Jeremy preempted him with a far more polite rebuff.
“Not right now, Patricia. Not too many jazz pieces from that era feature flutes,” Jeremy added, “but if that changes, you’ll be the first to know.”
Patricia seemed to blossom under Jeremy’s smile. Tyrell wanted to cut off her pretty red ponytails. Fortunately, Mr. Crabtree chose that moment to arrive, and Tyrell shot Patricia a grin that was all teeth.
“Looks like practice is about to start. Better get to your seat.”
“Oh, okay.” Patricia’s smile was clearly only for Jeremy. “I’ll see you later.”
Jeremy nodded noncommittally. “Thanks,” he said softly when she was out of earshot. “I really need to figure out a way to let her know we’re firmly in the friend zone.”
“Your fault for leading her on,” Tyrell replied petulantly.
Jeremy narrowed his eyes, although Tyrell could tell he wasn’t really mad. He grinned playfully, and Jeremy folded, breaking out into a reserved laugh.
“I think you’d better heed your own advice.” Jeremy nodded toward Mr. Crabtree, who was settling on to the high seat behind his large music stand.
“Wait for me after practice?”
“Definitely.”
Tyrell glanced meaningfully at Mr. Crabtree and then back to Jeremy, silently communicating his suggestion that they try questioning him again when rehearsal was over. He finally retreated up to the percussion section when the teacher tapped on his stand to call for attention.
Practice went smoothly. They began with the new John Philip Sousa piece Mr. Crabtree had added to their lineup for the pre-Christmas concert. The brass section was thrilled, and Tyrell shared their enthusiasm since Sousa’s compositions featured heavy emphasis on percussion too. He’d made good progress learning to read the sheet music so he didn’t have to depend on listening to Tina play the snare drum line fir
st. Next up was a run-through of the piece they’d started the semester with: Dvořák’s New World Symphony. Mr. Crabtree was visibly pleased when they got through the entire work with nary a wrong note.
“Excellent!” He shuffled through the sheet music on his stand and glanced up at the clock. “I think we have time to start on another piece in the Holst suite. Anyone familiar with ‘Venus, the Bringer of Peace’? Good,” he continued as over half of the players raised their hands. “It’s got a nice, slow tempo, so let’s see how far we can get. Sorry, percussion. You pretty much sit this one out.”
Tyrell fiddled with his drumsticks while Mr. Crabtree passed out the new sheet music. He’d noticed that Jeremy raised his hand in response to the teacher’s question and was impressed by how extensive Jeremy’s knowledge was with respect to music.
Once the music was distributed, Mr. Crabtree returned to his seat and counted out the tempo for them to begin. He’d been right about the slowness of the piece. The music began softly and swelled only slightly in volume as it went along. Having nothing to do but listen, Tyrell lounged on his stool behind the snare drum set and closed his eyes to let the beautiful sound wash over him.
Tyrell wasn’t sure when he began humming along. He had never heard the song before, but somehow, he knew the notes perfectly. He’d also never been much of a singer, but the melody drifted effortlessly from his vocal chords. Something prompted him to look toward Jeremy, and when he did, Jeremy was staring right back at him, all the while continuing to play his clarinet.
Tyrell continued to sing, and Jeremy kept playing, and, suddenly, the music seemed to take on physical form, distorting the air between them with waves of sound. Tyrell had recently learned about resonance in his Physics class, so he recognized the phenomenon for what it was. The feedback intensified, making the air visibly shimmer with vibrations. But instead of growing powerful enough to break glass like Mr. Brady had demonstrated using two speakers, the sensation was comforting, as though the notes were a warm blanket that wrapped him in its downy softness. He knew Jeremy was experiencing the same thing when he saw the sheer wonder on Jeremy’s face as he continued to play.
