Lucy at Peace

by Mary E. Twomey

  “Tucker sleeps with old ladies,” I informed my boyfriend again.

  “Yes. Yes, he does. Now it’s time for you to get some nice, uninterrupted, non-laplanded sleep.” He pulled the comforter up to my chin and kissed my lips just once, which as we all know, is never enough. I pulled him down atop me via my fist in his shirt. He let down his torch for the mission for a few moments before reason pulled him back. “Of course you want me when I can’t have you. Goodnight, Mox.”

  “Goodnight, Fox.”

  Twenty-Four.

  Direct and Indirect

  Jamie and I played cards at the kitchen table. Jamie was sweating as he battled away the black fog in his mind, but he’d managed well enough all through breakfast. The cards gave us a distraction after we’d built up the best wall we could in our minds, with Jamie and I both huddling on my side of the tunnel, hands clutched like children. Whenever the struggle got to be too much for him, I reached across the table and held his hand for real.

  There were birds whistling just outside the kitchen window, and through the single pane we could hear two squirrels duking it out over a pile of nuts. In my imagination, I brought a gray squirrel into our little cuddle so Jamie could have a good distraction from the intensity that was his minute-by-minute battle. We didn’t talk; we simply held the bushy-tailed critter together. Jamie reached over to pet it with a shaking hand, but retracted before he made contact. I shouldn’t. I could snap at any moment. I don’t want to kill your pet.

  My heart let out a single mournful cry for Henry Mancini, and I snuggled the squirrel to my chest. I knew I couldn’t have a real life pet anymore. Our lives couldn’t provide an animal with any sort of stability. But my dreams were still my own (well, and Jamie’s too, I guess), so I kept the gray squirrel tight to me. He was the friendly sort, I could already tell. Not as magical as a Disney furry pal that could sew dresses for me, but I wasn’t too picky. His name’s David Cassidy. Isn’t he a cutie?

  I can’t imagine this is healthy. You live so much in your head. Jamie let go of my hand and started wringing both of his together as he began rocking. It’s getting worse! You should go hide somewhere.

  Where? We’re in my mind that you’re sharing! I’m not leaving you. Focus on breathing through it. Don’t think about the dark. Don’t think about all the light you have to stay sane for. Just breathe. If you can do that, we’ll get through it.

  “How are you, Prince?” Tucker inquired of Jamie’s strained hands. It wasn’t until then that I realized Jamie’d been wringing his hands in real life just as he was in our mind. The added stress wasn’t from the small doses of lavender powder Tucker had given Jamie to stave off the curse, but it was the concentration still required to fight off the black that was too much.

  “It isn’t a good idea to ask that right now,” I answered for Jamie, whose teeth were gritted against the desire to let the fog take him under. It was calling to him, and for some reason, only him. “Tuck, why isn’t the curse affecting me?”

  Tucker kept his eyes on Jamie as he answered. “For the same reason Jamie can eat, but you can still feel hungry. Not everything’s tied with laplanding. Some things affect you directly, like when I punched him in the stomach. And some things affect you indirectly.” He cast me a bow. “That was unintentional, me punching you, by the way.”

  “I forgive you.”

  Tucker narrowed his eyes at me. “I didn’t apologize.”

  “I know. I still forgive you for punching me in the stomach by accident.”

  “Yes, well. Whoops.” He examined his nail beds for a minute before speaking. Tucker migrated to my chair at the kitchen table and raked his fingers through my curls. I could tell he wanted to apologize, but had never learned how. I didn’t much care; the scalp massage felt heavenly. His voice was thoughtful as he spoke quietly while I cast down two cards that didn’t suit my master plan. “Jamie being cursed brings you down just as much, käresta. It’s an indirect link. You’re living through a curse because you can’t escape his mind. So in a way, you’re also cursed until his is lifted.”

  “Huh. Well, that sucks.”

  Tucker raised an eyebrow at me, amused at my simplistic observation. “I take it you weren’t a poetry major in college?”

  I gave a short laugh. “I was going to go pre-med before I fake died the first time. So, no. No poetry for me.”

  Despite our best efforts, the heavy blackness was licking at Jamie’s feet as we huddled in my brain together, holding hands as we dreaded the impending storm. I kissed the top of David Cassidy’s head, and he snuggled into the crook of my neck, worming his way into my heart.

  “Do you want I should give you more powder to ease the angst?”

  Tucker’s suggestion was sweet, I guess, but Jamie and I had seen what the powder had done to Jens, and didn’t want to go down that hole. The desire was there to check out, for safety’s sake, but Jamie shook his head. “No. We’ll wait for Elsa.”

  “You’ve got another hour if there’s no traffic at all. Could be longer. Can you hold out?” Tucker said as I shuffled the cards.

  Jamie indicated with his fingers how many cards he wanted, so I dealt him two more, hoping they were something crappier than the hand I’d dealt myself. “Don’t ask him what he can’t promise,” I warned Tucker. The atmosphere was already too tense, despite the glow of summer outside. I tried to keep my voice light. “I fold.” I laid my cards down. It was the second hand I’d lost, confirming that a future at the casinos wasn’t in the cards for me.

  In the cards. Poker. I’m funny.

  Jamie set his hand down, revealing a pair of jacks and a pair of twos. “Water,” he requested just above a whisper.

  I stood and quickly filled a glass for him, setting it down next to him. Jamie reached for the cup too soon, his finger brushing mine. The simple touch set him off, and he pounded his fist down on the table, seething. “You’ll pay for it all!” he roared, leaping to his feet to lunge at me.

  “Jamie, no!” I screamed, stumbling back so I was pressed into the corner of the kitchen.

  Tucker was on Jamie in a second, his hands pressing down on Jamie’s shoulders for too long a struggle for me to be certain Tucker would take the upper hand.

  Jamie hit below the belt and reached for weapons Tucker couldn’t take from him. He started flooding my mind with terrors I couldn’t escape.

  Horrific images of Jens in various stages of disrepair from the many battles he’d fought.

  The bullet exploding out the back of Tonya’s head.

  Henry Mancini turning rabid and fighting against Jens to kill me.

  “Jamie, stop! You’re hurting me!”

  Nik’s body, mangled, bloody and broken as he was dragged away by his ankles.

  “No, Jamie!”

  An image of Tor fighting the water with his axe before he sank to the bottom of the ocean.

  I fell to my knees and clutched my temples, begging him to stop.

  “You’ll see what I want you to see! I own you!” Jamie roared. Tucker wrestled him as he threw an image of Foss doing…

  I screamed, tears springing to my eyes as I tried to scrub the unthinkable violence from my mind. Foss would never hurt me like that. It wasn’t real.

  Tucker put Jamie in a sleeper hold, choking us both until the prince finally conceded the fight and sank back down in his chair, the black fog running away in fear of what else the fire elf might do. Tucker clapped his hand down a few times on Jamie’s shoulder, like they were old buddies as we fought to breathe normally again. “There you are. Almost lost you for a second.”

  Jamie punched the table once more, letting out a shout of frustration as he fought through the fog that was threatening to choke him. The chips rattled with his barely controlled anger, but after a few bull-like snorts, Jamie’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m okay. It’s gone for now.”

  Tucker was on the floor by my side in the next second, holding me as I cried. I sagged against him in defeat.

  Bu
t I wasn’t defeated. I was me, and that was enough. Screw the curse. I’d been through worse.

  I picked up my head, swallowed down my anxiety and wiped away my tears as quickly as they came. I forced out a weak smile to let Tucker know I was fine. “Thanks, Tucker.”

  Tucker helped me to my feet and held me until I was steady enough to stand on my own. My swimming head was pressed to his chest, but I began to breathe a little more deeply as he pressed his lips into my hair. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

  “Perfectly fine,” I lied, composing myself just enough so I appeared like it was just a normal, boring day of playing cards indoors. I was a fantastic faker. “You?”

  Tucker followed my example and smiled. “I’m a little peeved about the weather. I mean, all this talk of rain, and not a drop. The weatherman is so dramatic sometimes.” He laced his fingers through mine, as if we were the kind of friends who snuggled while we watched movies together. “Though I wager I could use a little sunshine.”

  I was grateful for the meaningless conversational distraction. I was grateful for Tucker in that moment. “It’s all for the ratings. I bet they’ll be predicting a frozen tundra for sweeps week.” My eyebrows furrowed together. “And I told you not to call me sweetheart.”

  “Very well, honey lips.” Tucker’s voice was light as he gave my hand a supportive squeeze. “Lucy, be a dear and go to my bedroom. There’s a little burgundy pouch in the drawer of my nightstand by my bed.”

  “Sure.” I scampered off down the hall, knowing Tucker was going to either drug Jamie again or keep me away from an impending attack from my favorite Prince Charming. He’d given Jamie the hint of a sniff of the stuff that morning; I knew the tiniest dose restored Jamie to himself for about an hour. It was a whirlwind of emotions. Each time Jamie came back to normal, he was riddled with guilt and despair over the hateful desires and baser urges I’d been privy to.

  By the time I came back to the kitchen, the black fog in my mind was retreating like a puppy who saw the can of pennies, and didn’t want me to shake them at him. “So, you don’t need this, then, right?” I held up the pouch.

  Tucker held out his hand, and I placed the powder in his palm, itching for just a little sniff to take the edge off of the anxiety I tried not to let anyone see. “Not at the moment, but it’s good to have on hand, just in case.”

  I sat back down and dealt another hand, noticing the even breathing and erect posture of my laplanded buddy. “I love you, Jamie,” I told him, hoping to chase away some of the waves of guilt that were currently crushing him.

  He couldn’t even look at me. “You shouldn’t. I’m a horrible person. I almost…” He shook his head. “And Foss would never do that to you. He loves you more than anything. I don’t know why I put that in your head.”

  I kept my eyes on the crappy hand that had been dealt me and shifted my cards around. “Yesterday you tried to scare me by telling me that you watch me in the shower.” Jamie and I swallowed in unison as Tucker’s head whipped toward the morose prince. “Is that true?”

  Jamie closed his eyes. “Only when I’m not aware what you’re doing, and my mind drifts to yours. The few times I’ve seen you like that, I tried to duck out in the same breath.” His voice quieted in shame. “I lingered once after that day we all went to the beach. It was the worst kind of betrayal, I know.” He lowered his head at my gasp of indignation.

  “That was months ago! Long before the poison got you.”

  “Yes, I’m a man and I slipped once. I’m sorry. The pedestal you have me on? One day I hope to be that man.” He straightened. “But it’s far worse when the fog comes over me. You might want to steer clear of the shower when I’m… When I’m not me.” Jamie couldn’t look at me, and I didn’t blame him. “I’m sorry. Beyond ashamed. I’m sick about what I said to you. When I wasn’t me, I admit I did… enjoy myself. Then when I come to, I despise myself more than you most likely do right now.”

  I squinched my eyes shut as my stomach churned, reminding myself that Jamie wasn’t my actual brother, and he was being honest with me about a pretty confusing situation. “Shh. We don’t need to talk about it anymore. I was just checking. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” I examined my hand as I tried to get my fear under control, again disappointed in the lack of viable options for a win in the game. “I’m horrible sometimes, and you still love me. We’ll figure it all out.”

  “There’s no figuring anything out. I’m cursed, Lucy. Just when you help me overcome my birth curse, another descends upon my head. I feel it in my veins. That Elsa might reverse it isn’t a hope I’m willing to indulge in. There will only be another to replace it once she solves this problem.”

  I stood and walked over to Jamie, muscling past my growing fear of him. We both felt my revulsion as I brought his head to my chest. Jamie tried to pull away in shame at my gut reaction to being around him now, but I remained determined that we would get through this. I sifted my fingers through his chestnut curls to relax him. “Oh, buddy. You have no idea how stubborn I can be. We’ll fix this for you. I promised you that you’d get to live on the Other Side with Britta, that you’d get married and be happy. I won’t stop until you get everything I wish for you.”

  He turned his head to the side and pressed his lips to my gloved wrist, his eyes closed. “My biggest regret is that you’ll go down with me. It’s such a waste. I can feel your fear of me. I know the effort being near me costs you.”

  I didn’t bother denying this. There was no point.

  “I do love you, syster.”

  “I know. Don’t you worry. In a year, we’ll have lives so boring, we’ll complain about traffic and the weather. You’ll get your marriage back on track, and have lots of babies. Like, twenty. That’s my promise to you.”

  Jamie managed a wan smile. “Twenty babies in a year? That’s mighty ambitious.”

  I shrugged, bending down to kiss his hair, giving my fear of Jamie the middle finger. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

  “I’m so sorry you have to hear what’s in my head, Lucy. I don’t think anything bad about you! I promise you, I—”

  “Shh,” I admonished him, my hand cupping his mouth before he could relive the horrors. “Save it all for the end. Roll it all up in one nice apology with ribbons and bows. Buy me a pink unicorn, and I’ll forgive you anything.”

  Jamie chuckled into my hand, but Tucker simply watched us, observing our dynamic. “This laplanding is quite the problem.”

  We agreed and went back to our game, pretending poker was the most fascinating thing in our lives. We sat in companionable silence, each of us mulling over the things that did no good to talk about.

  Twenty-Five.

  Under the Table with Jamie

  We’d just dealt the fifty-millionth hand when Jens came barreling through the door like a rhino. “Get down!”

  There was one window over the sink in the kitchen, so when Jamie and I ducked under the table, we were sure to hide from view of it. Jamie got down on all fours and tucked me under his body, shielding me from errant glances as Jens shut the lace curtain with too many dainty holes in it to fully conceal us. “What, Jens? What’s wrong?”

  “You can’t go sitting in front of windows, Loos! You just had a hit out on you. Word doesn’t spread all that fast, so there’ll be people still looking for you, not knowing that Tucker already did the job.”

  “What’s wrong?” Tucker asked, on his feet with Jens.

  “I was followed. Little blue sedan that took two hours to lose.”

  “Who?” I demanded from my supine position, holding onto Jamie’s sides as he hovered over me.

  Tucker shook his finger as he checked the doors throughout the house and returned to the kitchen. “The question is why. People don’t matter as much as their motives and actions do.”

  Jens barked, “Well, the who’s pretty important here. Stina is the one who ordered the hit on you, Loos.”

  Jamie gasped, and then hung his head, burying his
face in my neck.

  “I knew I hated her for a good reason!” I was indignant that someone I didn’t even really know could want me dead.

  “I know. I got no clue why, but she won’t be satisfied until she’s got confirmation of your body. The hit’s still active at the office. Probably the fact that there was no body kept the file open.”

  Jamie reached around me with one of his strong arms and elevated my torso so it was pressed to his in a hug. “Hey, it’s okay, syster. No one’s here but us.” Jamie did not let his position of protection slacken. Though he’d tried to attack me, I knew the Jamie I loved would never hurt me. He picked his head up to address the rest of the room. “We should move, Jens. If we stay two days, that’s more time for hunters to catch up with us.”

  Tucker waved his hand dismissively. “It’s probably just a private eye following my car around. We’re closing everything up to be safe.”

  “Is this a normal occurrence, Tuck?” I was perplexed at his casual words with their strange offhandedness. “I’d be pretty concerned if I had a tail.”

  “Oh, darling, when you’ve lived the lives I’ve lived, it would be strange if I didn’t have someone following me. It’s usually one of the heirs of my widows. They never visit while they’re alive, but as soon as my women die, everyone comes crawling toward the open pocketbook. Shame, the state of the world.”

  I grimaced. “Widows?” Then I shook my head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know how many you’ve seduced for their inheritance.”

  “That number’s not for the faint of heart, käresta. I would assume, given your harem, that you’re not too far behind me.”

  “Shut your smackhole.”

  Jamie was protective in his crouched position. It bespoke of the decades of closeness we would share if Undraland ever left us the smack alone. He pressed a chaste kiss to my shoulder, and then buried his forehead there. I’m sorry, liten syster. I’m sorry I was so cruel. You’ve known your share of thoughtless men. I’m sorry I was chief amongst their ranks. I’ve even brought Undraland’s wrath down upon our heads!