Never-Contented Things

by Sarah Porter

  He gapes at me. There are a few people in the park, but none of them will notice me unless I want them to. It’s not actual invisibility, it’s just a way Prince showed me of choosing how I present myself. I can make myself seem here or not here, on a case-by-case basis, even if I’m pushing through a crowd.

  “So—I don’t want him to yell! Even if he’s nicer in front of you, as soon as you leave, he’ll start!” He’s trying to keep it together, but his face is squirming from the tears that want to get out.

  “Oh, Luke. You think I don’t understand, right? But I actually understand better than anybody in the whole world! Do you know why I came back? I mean, I completely despise this town. It’s cold and depressing and brutal, and almost nobody here knows how to love anyone. I would never set foot here again, for one second, if I didn’t have a serious reason!”

  “But—what reason?”

  “Because I couldn’t leave things the way they are. So I came back to make everything better.” I hold out a hand. “Are you coming?”

  I mean, of course he is. Something else true: anyone who’s been hurt enough knows, or at least suspects pretty hard, that the regular world is a scam, a fake, and that there just has to be a better, realer, more vital one: a world that blazes and jumps, a world that’s hard to see because it’s so brilliant that it’s like it burns your eyes, at least until you get used to it. So when you finally get an invitation, there’s no way you’re going to turn it down.

  Okay, Lexi ran out on us. And obviously Lexi is amazing and I don’t mean that she’s shallow, but maybe she’s such a positive person that it’s made her delusional? She’s been protected all her life and it’s almost like she’s never had to learn what it means to really feel anything. Like, she used to say she loved Xand, but that meant something utterly different from what I mean when I say I love Kezzer. We could be speaking completely separate languages.

  “Okay,” Luke says. Then, “Do you have a bike?”

  “That’s not how we get there,” I tell him. “See, if you want everything to be new and different, then it’s up to you to make it change. You have to try doing ordinary things in new ways.”

  Another stare. “Like how?”

  “Oh, you know.” I’m smiling so wide it hurts, because I’m really so happy for him. He’s getting out so much younger than I did—though then I guess I never would have found Kezzer. “Magic. But the way we have to go is also really close. Um, you can just leave your bike locked up here.”

  There’s a new way through, because Prince is always opening doors and then after a while they drift closed again, and how fast depends on what they’re made of. This one is gorgeous to look at but it obviously won’t last for more than a few minutes. It’s the reflection of the sunset in the Bagel-Fragel’s plate-glass window, right across the street. It’s hard to describe, but you kind of slide in between the reflection and the glass, and then bam, you’re across.

  Derrick might be sad, maybe even their parents will be sad. And I’m sorry, up to a point, but honestly I’m a whole lot more not-sorry overall. Luke’s family grieving is actually a good thing, because they’re all people who need a major lesson in giving a damn.

  Luke’s replacement will be along soon to hop on that bike and ride home—totally instinctively, like a salmon, because most of those decoy things aren’t all that bright. It’ll get sick in a day or two, then die, and Luke’s family will never imagine that he has a new life a million times better than the one they gave him. And even if they grieve so hard they explode, that would be better than how they live now.

  When people are closed, sealed up, then sometimes the only way to break them open is to break their hearts. I’ll be teaching them what it means to care, even if it’s going to be too late for them to fix anything.

  That’s another thing I can’t stand about this world, the one that Kezz and I ditched. You can go up to people on the street, and ask them the time. Or you can check your phone’s clock, and see the numbers. But there’s only truly one answer, here, to What time is it?

  Too late. It’s just too late.

  And Lexi seriously thinks she gets to judge me, for rescuing the person I love from that?

  We step through into music. Unselle is singing in her metallic, buzzing voice—like a swarm of cicadas, kind of, but still horribly beautiful. She’s right in front of us, shining in her cloud of white lace, her arms outstretched toward Luke.

  “Home it is now, dearling, prettyling. What are you, poppling, but the child in my song?”

  He gawks, staggers. I know she’s putting on her act extra hard for his benefit, the way she does with kids. Her mink purrs on her chest, and Unselle reaches in her sleeve and pulls out a peach for him. Fat, humming like a bee—the fruit itself, I mean. The smell is so luscious you can hear it.

  He takes the peach, because that’s how it goes. None of them resist Unselle for more than ten seconds, ever. There’s a flowering tree like another cloud of lace behind her, and she sits against the trunk and pulls Luke onto her lap while he eats. That’s it for him being scared, or lonely, or worrying about his horrible family. Just like a flip in the air, like his memories do a somersault, and then whap, he’s done.

  It’s not like it was with me and Kezzer, or even Lexi; we’re old and complex and ornery enough that for us the whole process is a lot more complicated. Little kids are really simple and straightforward, and they don’t know how to keep the magic out at all. See why I don’t feel bad, even if Kezzer might not approve?

  You can’t just sit around and wait for every single person to agree with you, before you do anything.

  I feel it too, actually. The song and the smell of that peach, like they set off sparks in my brain. A glittering web, pulling me back in. Unselle notices it and smiles at me over the top of Luke’s head.

  Which—nobody has to remind me, okay? But I can’t watch Luke eating the peach without remembering about Kezzer, and how she must have said something that freaked Lexi out so badly that she ran off and wouldn’t stay for dinner with us. I don’t like thinking negative things about Kezz, but there’s no other explanation. Imagine if you gave someone the most incredible present anyone had ever seen, a brand-new planet where even the trees are covered in infinite glittering possibilities, and then they just tried to smash it? I have to be very, very conscious so I don’t start resenting Kezzer for that.

  So many people tried to destroy Kezz that the destruction is still in her body, like the way you can carry around an electric charge, and then it shocks the next person you touch. Except infinitely worse than that, obviously. It’s not her fault. None of it has ever been her fault.

  I just worry that Prince might not see it that way.

  the land of not too late

  Prince has a way of showing up; all his people do. At our backs, or looming into our faces, or just standing around on our lawn and waiting for us to do something entertaining. The one thing they don’t do is come inside the house, unless you count Prince’s eye bubbling up at the bottom of Kezzer’s hat, or the way they seem to know an awful lot about what happens in there. So I’ve been away too long already and I’m starting to get that sick, doubtful ache that comes over me whenever I have to leave Kezzer by herself, but that doesn’t stop him. He’s there, and that means I have to deal.

  Have I mentioned that I do a really amazing, huge amount for her? Including all kinds of stuff that she doesn’t even suspect, much less appreciate?

  “Dear Joshua!” Prince says, right beside me. He has his usual look, the white puffy jacket and tight black pants, and it’s getting pretty boring.

  “Hey,” I tell him. “I really need to get home.”

  “Of course you do. The lovely Ksenia is waiting at the window, so eagerly that the thought of you has stolen the breath from her lungs. Her lips are tinting azure, and she asphyxiates in the midst of endless air, all of it hers for the taking, if only she could remember to inhale. But how can she concern herself with anything so trivial
as breathing, while the one she adores is far from her?”

  One thing about Prince: he likes to watch us react, like our most extreme emotions are just delightful to him, and it would be best if I could keep the things he says outside of my skin, and outside of my brain. But he has this way where whatever he tells me beams onto my thoughts like a movie. Like, I know that Kezzer is probably just reading on the couch, but I still see her the way he described, pale blue and suffocating where she stands, and there’s a crack of adrenaline that makes my legs jerk because they want to run to her so badly.

  It doesn’t matter if I know it’s all a trick. It still takes over. I have to actually remind myself to see the ordinary things, the sidewalks and houses and trees.

  “It’s just—I don’t think it’s good for Kezz to be alone too much.”

  “Indeed not. Ksenia’s blood is by now so depleted of oxygen that she’s beginning to see things that aren’t there. Her vision is full of failing light, of spots in unknown colors. Some of those spots take on the aspect of faces.” A pause. “And are those faces yours, Joshua?”

  Another trick. A game. But I actually see the inside of Kezzer’s mind, I see her thoughts twitching around like bright balloons in the air, and so I know exactly what Prince is talking about.

  “Lexi?” I should shake it off, but I can’t, not when it’s right in front of me. My mouth starts to get that electric crawl that happens around him, and it makes my whole skull shake, almost like a bell ringing. “Kezz is thinking about Lexi?”

  “It’s strange, isn’t it, Joshua? I was so sure Ksenia’s final dreams would be of you! But it appears that Alexandra is very much present to her now.”

  Present to her. Lexi ran away, okay. But suddenly I see it in Prince’s words: that’s no guarantee she’ll stay gone. My thoughts go leaping in a million directions, scratching and grabbing for what that could mean. Is Lexi going to start some kind of trouble? Would she really do that to me?

  “I thought—it would make Kezzer happy. Having more friends around.” I say it because I have to say something. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  Prince rests a hand on my shoulder and turns me to face him. Bright green eyes and that crest of dark brown hair, all way too close.

  “How generous of you. You only sought Ksenia’s happiness, and never once thought of how it might come at your own expense.” A pause. “You have such a beautifully trusting heart. It pains me more than I could ever say, to see how ready Alexandra is to take advantage of your innocence.”

  What do you mean? The words slide into my head. I can feel how they’re coming from Prince, and I totally resent it. But it doesn’t matter, because after a long beat I still hear the echo bouncing out in my voice. “What do you mean?”

  I know what he means, though. I see it. He smiles and the movie blasts all over my brain: Jesus, Lexi is sneaking into our house right now, tiptoeing down those stairs that held her up, but that always drop me. And Kezzer—the whole image of her blue and suffocating has vanished. Now she’s smiling up at Lexi, like she’s been waiting for her this whole time, and Lexi is bending close and running her fingers through Kezzer’s jagged hair. Closer.

  I was a sucker. I thought Lexi would respect my relationship with Kezzer and leave us to be happy together, but apparently I was wrong. And it was my own stupid mistake, trusting Lexi and letting her see Kezz alive, letting her in. But God, I should have known better! Lexi never understood how me and Kezzer feel about each other. Those awful things she said to me—they were crawling with ulterior motives. She tried to sabotage us before, I see it.

  Is what I’m seeing real, though? I can’t tell. It seems like there’s a problem with this movie. A plot hole. Then I hit on it.

  “Lexi is straight,” I tell Prince. “She’s totally not interested in girls.”

  “Examine the taxonomy arrayed in your heart. Have you ever made such a shocking mistake before? Ksenia Adderley—do you class her in the genus girl?”

  I don’t, but doesn’t Lexi think of Kezzer as a girl? Maybe it’s not safe to assume what Lexi thinks. Right, right, right.

  Prince smiles; I see his smile sort of bobbing up through the movie where it’s paused in my head, Lexi’s lips floating two inches from Kezzer’s. I hear him talking.

  “How I pity you now. That first flush of understanding, the dawning comprehension of how profoundly your erstwhile friend means to betray you—no one can live through such a moment without it changing them forever.”

  Ten minutes ago the whole idea would have seemed ridiculous, but now it’s—how do I describe it? It’s like a comet burning its way from bullshit into clear reality. Lexi came back to steal Kezzer from me, and she’s in our house right now. But is that a possible thing Lexi could do? How would she even get in here, when the entrance we used together is gone?

  How doesn’t matter. I have to get home. Now. I’m springing with panic, but there’s one more question that has to come out first. Is it too late? come the words in my mind, and now there’s hardly any delay before they rebound out where we can both hear them. “Is it too late?”

  But no, no; that’s the whole point of being here, of opening up a planet full of new possibilities. It’s the Land of Not Too Late. It has to be.

  “Why, no. Not yet, I think. You’ll find that our lovely Ksenia is still with us, and you’ll be very sure to bring her along to our gathering tonight, won’t you?” Prince says. I calm down the tiniest bit, but I’m still tensed to run. He smiles, but there’s so much glimmer in my eyes that I can barely see his face. “And besides, my dearest Joshua, it’s never too late for revenge.”

  so what’s to trust?

  Okay, what Prince said helped a little—it’s not too late, not yet—but that doesn’t mean I have time to waste. I break away from him, from his shine and the visions he sends blinking through my eyes, and run like hell the rest of the way home. That movie that I saw before, that moment where Lexi was about to kiss Kezzer and then coax her away from me: is it happening? The image snapped. I can’t see it anymore, I can’t tell. Kezzer, please, you should know by now who really loves you!

  There’s the yellow burst of our house with its weird dark upstairs windows glaring into what should be our dreamy afternoon, Kezzer’s and mine. I pound up the walk and fling back the door, then practically throw myself into the living room. That’s where they were before, that’s where I saw them. My mouth is open to start screaming.

  But, um, no. Nobody’s here. Which could mean the absolute worst has happened and Lexi has already snatched her away, but didn’t Prince promise I would find her? “Kezzer?”

  Something bangs at the kitchen window. I rush to see what it is.

  There’s a ladder back there, one of the jointed aluminum kind. Which is crazy. Why?

  So I dart out again, and around the back of the house, and then I see her. Kezzer, I mean, but it’s so different from everything I was supposed to see, from that movie that bombarded my brain with its pictures, from Lexi’s dark hand in Kezzer’s pale hair. I’m having a hard time catching up to what’s actually in front of me. At first I’m too startled to call up to her, and I just stand there trying to take it all in.

  That horrible upstairs addition, those rooms that built themselves right in front of us out of a million broken little Kezzers—it has a window in back too. How come I never noticed that before? Or did it just appear today? It’s wide open and full of jet-black darkness that the brightest sunlight can’t seem to penetrate, just like the windows in front.

  Kezzer is wobbling around on what must be the tallest ladder she could find, and she’s trying to climb into our new upper story through that window. The stairs won’t let her up, so okay, she’s trying something different. Which instantly bugs me, once I understand it, because why did she wait until I was out?

  Lexi. I get this nauseating feeling that that’s it, that Lexi is in there, that Kezzer heard her calling. What I saw wasn’t quite right, but close enough—oh, and ma
ybe this isn’t the first time, maybe whenever I’m away Kezzer runs for the ladder and crawls up to Lexi, and she’s lurking up there all the time, just waiting, even when I’m cooking Kezzer dinner or resting with my face on her shoulder.

  But as I watch—my new theory doesn’t hold water either. Because Kezzer can’t get in.

  She lunges forward, up on the second-highest rung, and grabs for the sill—it’s the way she’s jerking around that’s been knocking the ladder against the kitchen window. So she must have tried this a few times, already? But when she reaches out, the windowsill ruptures under her hands. I know the addition is made out of those mini Kezzer creatures, but normally they disguise themselves as walls and stairs so well that you can’t see them at all. Not individually.

  But now as Kezzer grabs they all come bursting out, and tiny flat fists pop out by the dozen and pummel her back, and little scissory mouths snap at her. Where there was what looked like yellow vinyl siding and a window, suddenly there’s a freaking mob of squeaking, flailing cardboard Kezzers. So many of them that I can’t make out the real Kezzer from the waist up, though I can tell she’s thrashing as she tries to beat them off her.

  “Damn you!” Kezzer yells at them. “You know me. So why? Why are you keeping me out? I just need to see—”

  I almost think it’s funny, and I almost think she deserves it, except that the way the ladder is pitching is starting to make me nervous. It almost looks like the addition is caving in on her, except instead of boards and plaster crashing on her head there are those jackknifing copies of her, slamming her in the throat with their bony knees. She can’t hold on much longer and I leap forward, because even if I still have that cold, hard lump in my chest—Kezzer betrayed me, even if what I saw wasn’t true she still betrayed me by whispering secrets to someone I obviously can’t trust—I don’t want her to get hurt for real.

  Sure enough, she’s falling. Before I can get close enough to catch her, I see Kezzer sort of dangling in space. The swarm has her by the ankles and they’re just letting her twitch around, head downward and struggling, with a rosebush scraping at her scalp. One of them slithers down her body and literally folds itself around her head.