VOLT: YA Fantasy

by Dawn Brazil

  I don’t look to see Ferris' face as Joe delivers his rant. All I keep playing in my head is Ferris saying how cool it would be to have a brother. I ache a little more for Ferris. My insides already feel like they’ve been yanked out and stuffed back inside by a demented taxidermist, but when the nothing leaves, even other people’s San Diego affects me.

  It’s not fair.

  The room is quiet for a while. Eventually, I lie back and stare at the bubbling ceiling paint. What in the world happened here? My eyes slip closed but I don’t sleep. Parts of me want to go wrap Joe and Ferris in a hug. I shove the desire away. I don’t touch people—it’s not my thing. The desire keeps resurfacing, though.

  I release a loud howl of frustration at my inability to turn on the nothing. My eyes slip open and I glance over at them. Joe and Ferris peer at me like I've turned into a pink-fleshed piglet. Yeah, next time that scream needs to be internal. I duck my head under the thin blanket covering me.

  The only sound in the room is the TV as I try to drift to sleep.

  When I awake, I stretch my arms high and yawn loudly. Joe and Ferris occupy the same spots as before I fell asleep. "Here," Joe says. His mouth is full of food. "Clothes." He throws a small plastic bag to me and it lands on the bed beside me. "I bought some toiletries for you. In the bathroom." He points to the direction of the head.

  I stumble from the bed with the plastic bag in hand and make my way to the head. Once inside, I find an unopened toothbrush, toothpaste, razors, shower gel, and lavender shampoo and conditioner. All the things a girl needs to feel complete. Well, some of the things a girl needs. I smile, surprised at the sudden change in Joe.

  I frown as the reason for his generosity becomes clear. He’s probably doing this because he thinks we’re friends. I scowl at my reflection in the mirror. She frowns back and I want to smack her in her stupid, ugly mouth.

  I pop the cap on the shampoo and inhale the lavender fragrance. My insides sour at the familiar scent. I slam the bottle to the counter. My eyes slip to the razor included in the kit Joe gave me. It’s not the right time, though.

  After I shower, and wash and dry my hair, I reach for the small bag with the pajamas Joe picked for me. The bag is light. I pull a thin, hot pink nightgown from it. It has spaghetti straps and hot pink fuchsia ruffles at the bottom and the top. It’s a negligee. Definitely not something appropriate for me to sleep in with him and Ferris in the same room as me.

  I eye the one-piece Barbie outfit I had been wearing. It’s covered in blood on one leg. Dirt and grime coat the entire thing. I can’t salvage it. The towel I used to dry off would be considered a hand towel, at best. I search beneath the splintered wood cabinet for more towels—more of the same. I slam the cabinet closed.

  Florida.

  I’ll have to wear the nightgown. I don’t even have the right curves to fill the gown out. I’m thoroughly unproportioned. My calves are so big it looks like I have a couple tennis balls in each. My stomach’s flat, but so is my chest. I used to complain to my mom about my lack of breasts. She reassured me that I’d soon have more than I wanted. That hasn’t happened. I’ll be going off to college with the body of an adolescent boy.

  I glance at my reflection in the mirror again. Admittedly, the gown is beautiful, but so very wrong for me to wear.

  Did Joe do this as a joke? I press my ear to the hatch to see if I can hear them on the other side. I can’t make out what they are saying, but I do hear their voices.

  I fiddle with my hair a while. I brush my teeth three times and lotion every inch of my body—hoping they fall asleep before I reenter. I’m growing restless, though. I hate to wait for anything. My patience is thinner than Ferris' bony legs.

  I lean against the sink for a while, inspecting the checkerboard tile. It’s dangerous to be idle. An idle mind leads to thinking, reflection. My mind will wander to precarious territories if left unsupervised for too long.

  I take a deep breath, roll my shoulders back, and stand straight as I exit. If they’re still awake, I dare them say one word to me. I peel the hatch back. Ferris is on the bed watching TV. He looks over as I peer out. He sits up so fast he nearly topples onto the stained green carpet.

  “Open your mouth and you die.” He swallows hard and leans back on the bed, but keeps his eyes glued to me. Joe, thankfully, is nowhere in sight.

  As I pass Ferris, the front hatch swings open and in walks Joe, carrying a medium-sized bag. I stand frozen like I've been caught sneaking out by my dad. Joe stares at me for a long time. His eyes move from the top of my head down. He shakes his head. “Not your color.”

  I can’t help the smirk I feel creep across my cheeks. Breaking from my trance, I march to the bed. I steal a fleeting glance at Joe as I slip under the ugly green blanket. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, still staring at me.

  “What exactly is your problem?" I ask. My voice carries further than I intend, rousing Ferris, who sits up and looks from Joe to me.

  "I don’t have a problem. At the moment, I’m in a really, really good place." His smile is mischievous, like he’s hoarding inappropriate secrets. "Nice PJs."

  "Go to bed and leave me alone. I don't know why you picked out this ridiculous gown in the first place. I ought to smack you upside your dome-sized head for this." I turn my back to him and Ferris.

  "Not me."

  I yell over my shoulder. “You’re the one who gave me the bag.”

  “Uh, actually, Sam,” Ferris speaks up. “I picked the gown. I didn’t realize it would be so… um, revealing. Sorry about that. I thought it was pretty. I thought it might make you feel better. I don’t know how to pick out girls' clothes.”

  "Well, that’s evident,” I say. The intent doesn’t seem malicious coming from him. “That’s okay, Ferris. I know you didn’t mean it to be rude. I’m not mad at you.”

  “Wow. Seriously,” Joe says. “You threatened me with violence and he gets a pass. This isn’t acceptable.”

  I turn over and look at him. “So? Deal with it. I like Ferris better than I like you.” Ferris beams. So do I.

  Joe leaps across his bed and onto mine, like a frog leaping a lily pad. He yanks the blanket away from me. I scream. “Joe, get off my bed.” I punch him in the chest.

  “Aw,” he wails. “Now you’re abusing me.”

  “Get off.” I scrunch into a ball as he hovers over me.

  “Not until you admit you like me, too.” Ferris sits up and claps his hands excitedly.

  “Never,” I say, looking him square in the eyes.

  “Then I don’t have a choice but to…” He pauses. “Touch you until you confess your true feelings.” He slides his hand from my neck to my shoulder. His hand is warm and doesn’t actually feel bad, considering how cold the room is, but I don’t like to be touched. I’m trying to remember this as he slides his hands over the exposed skin on my arms, neck, cheeks…

  “Come on, Ferris. You should join in on the fun. Get her back for those times she acted like a princess.” Ferris bounds across the bed and throws his hands into the mix.

  “Stop it. You two imbeciles!” I screech. “I hate to be touched. Stop.” They don’t stop. They’re laughing and rubbing their hands on my arms and face repeatedly. “Please. You don’t want to be my friend. I’m not a good person. I don’t deserve friends.”

  They stop. They stare at me with their hands still in the air—poised to continue their relentless torture. “Sam. I think you’re a great person. Sure, you have some issues with people. We all do,” Ferris says. I sigh loudly. “Actually, I have a confession.” He sits Indian-style on the bed. Joe does the same. I push myself to a sitting position. I tug the cover to my chin. Joe cracks a smile but doesn’t say anything.

  “I saw a picture of you before, Joe,” Ferris says. “It was when my mother died.”

  Chapter 26

  “My father allowed me to go through a few of her things. I found your picture in them. On the back, it had your full name. When I saw you with Sam in
the game room, I thought I’d imagined you. I followed you to the hotel. I thought we could be related, but I wasn’t sure how. I wanted to tell you I sort of knew you, but I wanted to do it at the right time. ”

  “And when is the right time?” Joe asks. Ferris hunches his shoulders. Joe hunches his shoulders, too, and makes a noise with the back of his throat. For a few minutes, no one speaks, but they don’t move from the bed either.

  “Okay, get off now before I have to murder you both in your sleep,” I say with a grin. They both climb off the bed but don’t return my smile. I understand. Sometimes you can’t even pretend you’re okay when your heart is hurting. You’re simply trying to exist from one second to the next.

  Joe grabs the remote and flips the channels for a while. He stops at a show with the most annoying, upbeat music ever invented. It’s about a family of cats. The father cat, Chester, decides to pull up the carpet in the house and make the floors a giant litter box.

  I lose interest in the absurd show faster than if I was forced to watch a cheerleading competition. I lay back against the flat pillows.

  As I drift, the image of Joe touching me playfully surfaces. The sensation from his touch melts me into the pillow.

  When I wake, the room is dark, save for the TV with the bright lighting in the backdrop but no motion or pictures. I stretch and yawn. Ferris and Joe both turn and stare at me from their bed. They both have a look like they’ve been waiting for me to wake.

  My heartbeat accelerates and my palms are wet. They’re leaving now. I know they’re leaving. Maybe they don’t want to be bothered any further with a hanging-by-a-thread girl like me. They can spend time with their lost person or in Ferris’ case look for his mother, anything actually, other than nearly getting killed with a neurotic.

  I know how unbalanced I am, because I know what I’ve done. I wouldn’t want to be my friend, either. Still, knowing this brings me zero comfort. Finding my way to the End on my own will be difficult, but I can do it. The desire to make it there outweighs every other emotion.

  “Hey, you guys want to call it a night? I'm ready to turn the TV off now if you are,” I say. Keep it light, Sam.

  “I’m an only child. Every year for my birthday, up until her death, my mother and I would have a nice dinner at our favorite restaurant and stay up all night watching musicals.” He stops and smiles to himself. “It’s always been difficult for me to make friends; that’s why I cherish the ones I have. Right now, the only friends I have are you and Joe. So, please excuse my hugs. When I first came to VOLT, I was overwhelmed with the prospect of finding my mother. I forgot how to live or make friends on the outside. You and Joe helped me to discover that friends are good and a necessary part of our lives.”

  “I have plenty of friends back home. Still something’s missing,” Joe starts. “I’m not sure what it is—"

  Ferris clears his throat and cups his hands to his mouth, giggling softly. Joe shakes his head. He continues. "I think it’s destiny we met. I’m not the most hospitable person, but I feel like Ferris. We’re all friends now. Regardless if you seem to struggle with the concept.”

  “I guess these speeches are meant to coax me into talking," I say. “And maybe they’re meant to reassure me we’re all still striving to accomplish the same task. Finding Ryan.” They both nod. “I don’t have any friends back home, but I can try… to be friends with the both of you.” San Diego.

  “Okay, Ferris, I did it…” Joe turns and looks at him. “Now that the pleasantries are over… Who the hell is Chris?” He leans forward on the bed like the answer’s going to fly out of mouth.

  “Really.” I throw my hands up. “So, all that was only to get me to talk about Chris. You two didn’t mean any of that.” A sharp pang stabs my heart. I want badly for this wound to be anger at their brazenness. It’s not.

  “We meant every word of what we said,” Joe retorts. “We feel that as your friends, you’re keeping vital information from us. We want to know why. Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, especially not ones that could potentially get all of them killed.”

  His words hit me like an anchor upside the head. Could I get them killed if I don’t tell them… Regret is so heavy; it drags me and kicks me around. It steals the joy out of each moment and ruins my plans for the future. Regret is an unwelcome houseguest from hell. It has only one benefit—it keeps me from opening my mouth.

  As much as I sometimes want to open myself up to others, I can’t. Not with Joe and Ferris, anyway. I like them too much. They’re already falling down my rabbit hole of lies. I can’t drop them into the abyss; they might never recover from me. Plus, they seem to have enough issues of their own without adding mine to the mix.

  “I don’t know why these things are after me. I’m almost positive I’ve never been to VOLT before, but maybe I have and don’t know. But I’m not sharing. I choose to be Sam here. I appreciate everything you’ve done. Honestly, it’s probably more than I would’ve done for either of you.” I pause. Neither of them speak, but I can tell from their eyes they expect more words from me.

  “It hurts bad sometimes—life, I mean. I can’t think about that—about my crazy, mixed-up world. I want the nothing. Thinking about San Diego takes the nothing away. Right now,” I shake my head to get the words to unstick from my brain. “Right now, the nothing is the only thing pushing me forward, keeping me going. And it’s not at its full level. Don’t take that away because you want to talk about things. Please.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re going through, but I understand the nothing, that feeling that washes over you and makes you forget. I lived there for a while. But it’s not healthy,” Joe says.

  “I grew up there. I definitely understand the nothing,” Ferris say. “Joe’s right. It’s not healthy. I learned that too late, but there’s still hope for you. You don’t have to share your story with us. When you’re ready to talk, we’re here. And we’re not going to judge you. We’ll try to support you as much as we can because that’s what real friends do for each other.”

  I feel the tears on the verge of spilling and I hate they’re there. I hate their words have this effect on me. I love that they understand the nothing, though. I don’t need to explain and that means so much.

  Not one tear falls and I’m grateful for this reprieve from a useless emotional display. I lie back and let the nothing wash over me. It’s comforting, soothing—healthy or not.

  “We have to face one obvious thing,” Joe says. I roll over and stare at him. “You must’ve come to VOLT before. It’s the only way to explain why reapers are coming after you so hard, and why the MegaHex assaulted you. The question is what you did when you were here before.”

  “Maybe I’ve never been here, like I said initially.”

  “Well, I do know this person,” Ferris stammers. “Some people say he’s a sensei of things here in VOLT. He knows everything about everything. If you were here before, he could tell us. He can even tell us if Ryan is still here.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell us about him sooner?” Joe questions.

  “Sorry, guess it slipped my mind. I didn’t think of him until now.”

  “Let’s find him, then. He could tell if I’m wasting my… our time,” I say.

  I wonder if he could tell me about Chris? I throw a boulder at this thought to detract it from my brain.

  Chapter 27

  “Okay. We go see him tomorrow,” Joe states, standing to his feet. “Laurel, Hardy, we should get some sleep, because this has been a long day.” He turns to me. “Let me put a fresh bandage on before you go to sleep.”

  Joe is careful as he undresses my wound and bandages it back up. His hands move quickly, like he’s done this countless times. “How do you even know how to do this?”

  “My mom taught me when I was a kid. My younger siblings were all in sports, like me. We were always getting hurt. We’re a bunch of daredevils, I guess. We lived in the country and there wasn’t always a doctor nearby. I ha
d to learn, with as much as they got hurt.”

  When he finishes, he looks at me with his piercing eyes and smiles. This smile makes me cringe. It’s hard to decipher. Is there something going on between Joe and me that I’m trying to deny or haven’t realized yet?

  “Joe,” I call for him when he’s turning to leave. “Do you have a girlfriend back home?”

  “Uh, no, not really,” he stutters. I’m surprised by the apprehension in his voice. “Why?”

  “Well, I wondered, I guess…” I fiddle with the hem on the ugly green blanket. “I thought you might understand better how I feel… about Ryan, I mean… you know, if you had a girlfriend back home.”

  “Oh,” he says. “No. There’s no one like that. I never really thought about love. I’ve dated, nothing serious. Girls seem to swarm to me, though. It’s kinda ridiculous.” He laughs and looks away like he’s uncomfortable with the topic. “Your dedication to Ryan is… different… kinda weird, but…” I frown at his words. He shakes his head and meets my eyes. “I don't know, I might give this love thing a try. What do you think? Should I?”

  His eyes are soft and his expression sincere. It frightens and excites me. Neither of us flinches or blinks. My abdomen does somersaults as our eyes dance around each other’s faces.

  He moves so close I smell the citrus in his skin. He whispers in my ear, I assume it's so Ferris can’t hear. “Do you think I should give my heart away?”

  He pulls back and stares at me, waiting for my answer.

  I’m not an idiot. Even with the small amount of nothing coursing through me, I know what I feel. I’m attracted to Joe. I’m not sure what type of girl wouldn’t be attracted to him. He’s a bit of toughness and sweet at the same time. There’s not a scenario I can imagine where a girl dismisses him. Not. One.