by AJ Brooks
“You okay?” Max asks.
I crush my fist around the charms and struggle to find a simple answer to the simple question, but I have nothing.
I’m so alone.
With a guy I don’t know.
In one quick move, I slip the necklace over my neck, and whatever tugging I felt in my fingers and chest is replaced with a calm strength.
“I’m good. Yeah. Fine.” I zip the bag closed again and stand. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.”
“We all need people.” He shrugs. “I’m glad I could help.”
His eyes dart to the door a few times, and it finally hits me that maybe he’s feeling sort of nervous and excited about seeing Taylor again. That would be better than … Than whatever passed between us in the park and at my house. He doesn’t… He’s not the same now as then, so my guess is that being around Max might just add to my confusion about the world I live in, and that’s exactly the last thing I need.
A knock at the door makes us both leap to our feet, and I’m wondering again why I didn’t just stay at home. Go to the hospital.
Max opens the door.
“You,” Taylor says. “Well, isn’t this interesting. Zarah’s here?”
Max’s mouth opens a few times, but no words come out.
I stand, tossing my duffel over my shoulder. “I’m here.”
“Well.” Taylor smiles at Max—a defiant smile with a hint of… She’s interested in him? “Guess I know where to come next time I need coffee.”
“I can… Wanna go now…? Or we could...um…”
Taylor glances over at me, and I must look like hell because she shakes her head. “Another time, but thanks.”
There are a few awkward goodbyes before we leave Max’s house, and I tell Taylor about Mom but how I can’t bring myself to check on her as we move down the hallway in his building.
A few more blurry minutes later, we’re at Taylor’s house, and her mom is chastising us to make sure our shoes come off at the door, and that we have a healthy snack before we touch the cookies that smell like heaven.
“Why didn’t you come here first?” Taylor asks.
I have no idea. “I saw him at the hospital.” It’s not an answer to her question, but it’s better than staying silent.
“I still can’t believe your mom,” Taylor whispers. “If you wanna crash here tonight, I’m gonna have to say something to my parents. Is that okay?”
I nod and sit at the counter in their oddly black kitchen. The whole house with its dark red curtains and coffin wallpaper and over-curved furniture is like a movie set instead of a house.
Taylor disappears into the family room that sits behind the kitchen and I crunch on a carrot while playing with the charms on the necklace.
“Okay.” Taylor grabs two carrots from the bowl and shoves them both in her mouth. “My mom’s calling the hospital to leave your new number with them, so you’ll get a call if something changes. I’m pissed because you should have called me from the hospital in the beginning. You need to start talking to me, Z.” She sits down with narrowed eyes and a conflicting smile. “But for now I think we need to down this batch of cookies.”
I watch Taylor slide the plate of cookies toward us. She is the best kind of friend. I don’t deserve her. At all. And yet, here we are.
I rub the necklace charms together again, take a bite of cookie, and wish to hide here for a while.
XIV
Cassius
I hit my palm into a thick brick wall for no other reason than it takes away some of the tension that has tightened my muscles. Never interfere with an assignment. That’s the one rule I can’t seem to stick to.
Zarah and Taylor jump in Taylor’s piece of crap car and pull away.
I’ve been watching Zarah since I got back from my visit with mother. I’ve turned into a creepy stalker. I am intensely aware of the ridiculousness I’ve become, but if the Unfated come back, I won’t let her do it alone.
I left Helena to do it alone. I’m not going to do that to Zarah.
Taking a deep breath, I try not to think about Zarah’s lips, or of the last time I felt the need to kiss someone this acutely. Zarah is not Helena. Helena was mortal. She died. But Zarah digs at me the same way Lena did.
I roll tension from my shoulders, as a dark blur flashes through the shadows.
Unfated.
I take off after the creature, grabbing the knife Mother gave me and spinning it quickly. The blade appears before me, but it isn’t blue like it was before. It’s blood red and pulsing black. I almost stop running I’m so distracted but force myself forward, catching up to the creature as it reaches the door to Max’s apartment.
It spins its’ ugly decaying body to look at me with dead eyes. As soon as the creature fully faces me, it begins to change. To shift and reshape. Silky black hair grows from it’s head, it’s body thins out, the curves of a female smoothing out under thin fabric, dark caramel skin appears over the rotting flesh, the face smooths into beauty.
Serissa. That’s my first thought. But then I see the blade I hold in my hand. It is no longer pulsing. It is as red as I’ve ever seen and glowing so bright it blinds me.
Not Serissa. A demon. A Gorgon.
But how?
My eyes slam shut and my heart speeds up to unmanageable speeds even for me. I clutch the blade with both hands and swing wildly toward the shape-shifting monster, hoping to hit it before it fully transforms. I feel the sharp metal slice through soft flesh and a gurgled scream pierces the air.
Then nothing.
I killed it. I’ve never killed anything ever.
I lean over and brace myself on my knees, my stomach swirling. I steal a glance at the blade, which is back to silvery blue, which must mean safety. I remind myself to thank Mother for forgetting to tell me this is some sort of magical mood sword.
Once my breathing slows, I open my eyes to see nothing but sidewalk in front of me. The Unfated have no souls, so they don’t go to the Underworld when they die. They cease to exist.
But that wasn’t just an Unfated. That was a Gorgon. Or it turned into a Gorgon, which makes this a lot worse than I originally thought, and it was already pretty messed up. If demons can look like the Unfated then this has more to do with Serissa than I originally thought. Demons are souls of the underworld, locked away.
My world is a strange one. But there are rules. Ways that have always been the same. This is one of those things. Demons occasionally get released and the gods will dispose of them. But shape-shifting is not normal. Not even where I’m from.
< - - - >
“He shifted, Decima. Changed from a Unfated to a Gorgon. Filli Canis... Quid infernum? I could have been killed.” I’m pacing back and forth in front of Nona, and Decima in their spinning room. Nona is humming and not paying attention and Decima is clicking her tongue. Zarah’s painting of Serissa sits on the table and no one even attempted to offer up an explanation.
“Oh shush. It would have turned you to stone and we’d have sent Curo for you. You’ve picked up too much of that mortal attitude, Cassius. So young and impressionable. And no more cursing in this house. In any language.” Decima scolds and I roll my eyes.
“Merda, I’m two thousand years old, Decima.” I stop pacing but I’m so aggravated from how close I came to dying and how the Moirai are acting like… Acting like, well, themselves.
“Such a baby boy. Has it been two thousand years already?” Nona sings through her humming.
I huff out a frustrated breath and Morta smacks me. I hate that she always has the eye.
“I’ve been with you guys for five hundred years.” Frustration pushes me further down in my chair. “Why are we even talking about my age?”
“For one, young man, we are not ‘guys’. Second, we are also as old as time.” Morta grumbles and shuffles across the room to take a thread from Decima and hang it.
I don’t even know why I bother.
XV
Zarah
> I’m being stalked by wild dogs. Giant deformed dogs. I’m running for my life, their snarls close behind, ripping at the fear that chains me. There’s a small knife in my pocket that I grip with a shaking hand. I pull it out as they start to close in, and I weave through the trees in the fog-filled park looking for Cassius. I know he’s close.
Around a tree the demon-dog lunges. Thrusting my arm wildly I sink the blade into the chest of the dog and it disappears in smoke. I scream for Cassius. The sound brings another deformed dog to my right, and I flatten myself on the ground. Cassius leaps on the beast from above snapping its’ thick neck effortlessly. He reaches out his hand through the smoke remains, and I take it. He pulls me to my feet…
I gasp and sit up and Taylor jolts awake beside me.
“Oh, crap.” I grasp my head. “What time is it?”
“Too damn early to be awake.” Taylor scowls.
A whole day went by, and I didn’t even call to check on Crystal. I need to see her. To check on the apartment and look over the two pieces of my life that have some amount of permanence to them. “I need to go. Need to check on my mom and the house and everything.”
Taylor rolls over, burying her face in a pillow. “I’m a kickass friend, which is the only reason I’m offering, but you want me to come? I’ll totally come.”
She totally would, and her willingness to get sucked into my life is a stellar trait for a friend. “I need some alone time. You sleep.”
Taylor mumbles something else as I quickly slip a sweater on over my t-shirt and find my boots. Apartment. Crystal. I’m consciously thinking about breathing. I have very low expectations for my day.
< - - - >
The stairs are here. The same stairs. And they’re attached to the wall of my apartment. My brain is trying to wrap around this. I tug on the metal railing, but they hold fast. My duffel slides off my shoulder as I stare at the brick wall, at all the places the stairs attach. I squint at the bolts and screws, but I don’t know a new screw from an old one. The stairs are stainless, so everything looks the same.
My heart pounds as I swing my body around and start up the steps. When I throw open the door, Crystal’s lying on the orange couch with a smile.
No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. My hands start to shake. Again. Reality shifts are becoming a daily occurrence.
“What…” I start, my lips trembling. “What are you doing here?”
Crystal’s head tilts with a joking smile. “Why wouldn’t I be here? This is my house isn’t it?”
A man I’ve never seen before saunters into the living room holding two cups of tea on a small tray.
“This is Tennyson.” Crystal gestures, but I’m stuck to the floor. “I’m glad you two can finally meet.”
How can she be here, joking, and introducing me to boyfriends? How are the stairs back with not even so much as a crack in the brick where they were ripped clean off?
I open and close my mouth a few times having no idea what to say. Or do. Mom’s here. She’s fine. My hold on reality is so much slipperier than I thought. I stumble back out of the apartment.
What is happening to me?
I run down the stairs and dial Sue with shaky fingers, but shame washes over me as she answers, and I can’t speak.
All the pieces of the last couple days are all overlapping and criss-crossing, and I’m sobbing by the time I reach the bottom of the stairs. Smith’s Escalade pulls into the alley as I’m about to leave, and I stop. If I don’t understand what my reality is when I’m sober, why am I trying so hard to stay sober?
“If it isn’t my dark-haired beauty.” He smiles as he steps out of the car.
“Hi,” whooshes out in a rush of breath.
“You okay, Zarah?” There’s actual concern wrinkled in his brow.
“I need E.” I squeeze my eyes tight, bracing myself. “But I can’t pay you now.”
“What makes you think I have E?” He folds his arms.
“Please, Smith.”
He sighs. “I’m not a dealer, Z. I see you watch me, but I’m not a dealer.”
“What’s with the ride?”
“Got hit by a car in the Louisiana when I was there for football tryouts. Ruined my chances. Payout was big.”
“And now you’re just a lazy ass?” I offer still shaking and wondering how I can be having a conversation when the stairs are back and my mom’s back.
He slides a hand into his coat pocket and gives me a wink as he holds it out between us. “Lucky for you, I also like to let loose once in a while.” He shakes the little bag. "Take it, I can go without. You look like you want it more than me."
My stomach clenches at the thought of what I’m doing, but I snatch the tablet from his hand and stuff it in my pocket. I either need to go back and confront Crystal or I need out of here.
My feet start walking, and I follow.
< - - - >
I walk for two hours before calling Taylor, not caring that I totally blew off my morning math class.
“Taylor?”
“Where are you?” she asks. “How’s your mom? What’s going on?
“In the park. I need to talk.” I’ve never asked for help like this, but I don’t know what else to do. “Please come.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“Thanks, Tay.” I slump against a massive Madrona tree and try to breathe. Try to ignore the screaming inside me for the E in my pocket.
< - - - >
Taylor’s face comes into view as I sit against the trunk. Her blue hair falls to the side as she leans over. I peer up, but my brain is fill of too many things to react.
“Well, your mind is on a different planet.”
“Maybe.”
Taylor sits next to me as she folds her skinny legs into a version of cross-legged sitting that’s more insect-like than person-like. Her tight black pants just accentuate the fact.
“I have a lot to tell you and it’s going to take a while,” I say.
“Wow. Cool.” She leans forward. Her bright blue eyes nearly match her hair and her dark liner is smudged like it’s two days old. “You’re going to give me something real here. This is new.”
“I don’t know what’s real, and that’s the problem.” I clutch my legs more tightly as I pull them to my chest.
“Okay.” She hands me a coffee and clutches hers with two hands. The sweet smelling drink is so perfect I don’t have words. I breathe in the caffeine and sugar and burn my mouth with the first large gulp.
And then I find my voice. I tell her about how my stepmom said she had cancer and was gone two months later. How my dad seemed to give up on everything but drugs. And how the parties would last all night. How after awhile I started joining the parties. I tell her about the drugs and how I have this weird drive inside me forcing me to care if I’m clean or not, but that I sometimes hate that little voice. That it’s exhausting.
I tell her about how my mom wasn’t ready to be a mom, and how we’re two people who live in the same house. That it’s been that way since the day I met her. That she doesn’t acknowledge herself as my mother and neither do I.
Then I tell Taylor about the guy with the golden eyes and how I felt like I saw him and my paintings and how Crystal ended up in the hospital but how she’s home and the stairs are back. About how I wish my golden-eyed man were real. I end with how I don’t know if her and I talking is real, or if I’m living in some kind of bizarre dream world.
Taylor is stiff and quiet, her coffee perched to her lip but she hasn’t taken a drink in ages. Silence hangs between us for a few moments, and I’m sure I’ve convinced her that I’m some wacko she should never be friends with.
“I’m calling the hospital. We can get that part taken care of now.” Her hands shake as she pulls out her phone. “And I can tell you that I’m most definitely real.”
I sit dumbfounded, pressing the necklace pendant to my lips, wishing I would have trusted her with all of this so much sooner.
“I
wanted to ask about a Crystal Woodson… Mmm. Hmmm. I understand you can’t give me any information on her condition, but is she at the hospital still? Can you tell me that? Released early this morning and left with a friend? Okay. Thanks.”
A wave of weak relief passes in a wave through my body. “So that’s real.”
“Yep.” She wags her brows. “But I might stick by your side in case the mysterious god stranger comes around again.”
“I’m sorry.” I’m so drained from this weird mix of emotions crashing around inside me.
“Are you kidding?” She finally takes a long drink of her coffee. “This is like the most entertainment I’ve had in forever. And…” Her face softens. “I can’t believe all that stuff with your dad, Z. I’m so sorry.”
I blink back a few tears. “I don’t… I can’t…” Flashes of dark dank rooms. Music vibrating through my stumbling body. Of hands grabbing at me. Of being so high I don’t know what happened. My body starts to seize up as memories flood in.
“Hey.” She puts her bony hand on my knee and I recoil until I remember it’s my friend touching me and she’s okay. “Let it go, okay? It’s in the past. Let’s deal with the present. Because you got a whole hell of a lot going on.”
“Yeah.” I finally let my shoulders relax a bit, and they ache from the tension I’ve held on to today.
Taylor stands in one quick move, reminding me again how strong she is for being so small.
“Maybe after that, I should check on Crystal.” I’m blinking trying to reconcile the woman on the couch with the woman who was passed out at the hospital.
“Cool. Let’s head to my shop, your pad, and maybe this mess will start to sort itself out.”
“Okay,” I agree. I press the necklace to my skin wondering where it came from.
“We’ll work this all out, Z.”
I hope.
XVI
Cassius
I dig my feet in the warm sand of a beach near Bangkok. Tourists bustle all around me, and I allow myself to be seen because navigating my way through this congested cluster of people would be impossible.
