by S. L. Naeole
I closed my eyes to the dizzying image of Stacy’s splitting face and I imagined what Robert looked like—was he fearful, too? Did he hear my thoughts as they mingled along with Stacy’s?
I saw his face, his smile so gloriously beautiful, his wings, majestic and dark, like an inverse moon. I saw his tears; the crystal droplets that fell from his eyes were no longer shimmering little diamond jewels, but dark, ruby-like droplets that fell down his face, dangling from them by tiny strands of crimson thread. His wings fluttered in misery and it looked as though they, too, dripped with the dark drops as his sadness caused him a grief so overwhelming, his entire body seemed to quake in agony.
My eyes snapped open. “His wings!”
Stacy looked at me with confusion burning in her eyes. “What? What about whose wings?”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards that leaf shaped door, flinging it open and returning myself to the horror of the room.
“Oh my, God!” Stacy moaned, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. “What the hell is this place? Is this all in my head? What kind of freaky crap have I been watching to have this here?”
Ignoring her question, I ran to the wall that stood directly in front of us and grabbed the black wing that had been nailed there, the soft feathers still warm, the nail that had pinned it to the matte gray surface clattering down at my feet before the blood that drenched the ground silenced it forever. Instantly, the room began to shake, the strong vibrations sending everything around us toppling down. The metal table skidded across the floor, its macabre display spilling onto the floor and landing atop the carcasses that now littered it.
“It’s going to be okay, Stacy,” I said to her in an amazingly calm voice. “We’re going home.”
“How do you know?” she asked, panicked as she held my hand and moved close beside me. “How the hell do you know that? We’re in a freaking morgue for birds. How is this the way home?”
“Because this room, that hallway outside, it’s all Sam’s vision, everything here is what Sam sees in his mind, what he’s turned your mind into. These dead birds, they represent him and others just like him. Their wings have been torn from them, their freedoms clipped.
“He sees himself as the victim here; they’re all victims. Except this one-” I held the black, plumed appendage up “-he kept this one separate because it represents Robert. Sam doesn’t see Robert as belonging amongst his kind. He’s different. It’s not just the color of his wings, but who he is, the choices he’s made and what they represent.”
Stacy swung her arm around, motioning towards the ground with her outstretched hand. “So what does this all mean? Are we stuck in my mind or Sam’s? You said that if I came out, that I’d be okay. Now I’m trapped in a room filled with dead birds and you’re telling me that this is all the sick vision inside that Sam guy’s mind. Are we going to be okay, Grace? Really?”
I could tell that the darkness had begun to surround us, having finally entered the room, devouring the last bit of color left on the walls, the gray disappearing into the black void that crept closer and closer to where Stacy and I stood. With a reassuring smile, I nodded, answering her question with a surety that I felt so strongly, it beat out a rhythm that soon became a chant, repeating over and over the name of hope, of escape.
“I was able to come into your mind through Robert, but there’s no memory of him here that belongs to you, only Sam. Sam’s vision of Robert was meant to frighten me, to keep me away from here. He’s been in my mind, led me to believe in things that weren’t true. He thinks of me as some pathetic human, too stupid to put the pieces together, but I’m starting to figure things out. He’s not going to win, Stacy. We’re going to make it out of here and you’re going to be okay.”
“And this is how it’s going to happen?”
I nodded, and squeezed her hand. “Yes. I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but it will.”
She squeezed mine in return and together we felt the dark surround begin to cover us, pull at us and drown us as it took over everything; feeling, sound, sight were all swallowed up as we floated in this sea of blackness. For a brief moment in time, we were weightless, free from problems or fears. And then the torrent of thoughts that had once filled Stacy’s mind began to emerge, filling up the void that Sam had created. Piece by piece, memory by fragmented memory, the light was coming back.
“I did it, Robert,” I whispered when I felt his warm thoughts infiltrate mine, separating themselves from Stacy’s.
Come home, Grace.
I’m coming.
I sighed when the pain began to dull; the cuts and lacerations had lost their edge, their sting now replaced by a pair of strong arms that held me tightly against a solid chest.
My eyes opened to see a pair of bright, liquid eyes the color of pure silver staring back at me.
“Welcome back,” he said softly.
COLD DAY IN HELL
We were still in Stacy’s hospital room, now filled with a priest and several other members of Stacy’s family. To my surprise, I also saw my dad standing near the doorway, several knuckles pressed to his mouth as he took in the scene before him. My eyes darted over to a man who stood beside Stacy’s father, his eyes staring at a clock, his fingers pressed against Stacy’s wrist.
With a curt nod, another person in a white jacket began to scribble furiously on a clipboard. This was the silent signal that unleashed the tidal wave of bitter grief as it overflowed from Stacy’s mother and father, who both threw themselves onto her body, unable to accept the fact that their daughter was gone.
Stacy’s oldest brother, too overcome with the display, took off, shoving his way through the cluster of people that had gathered near the door. Two more brothers soon followed, and finally, the second to the last son left, leaving just Sean.
He was Stacy’s twin, conceived with her, born with her, and now left to live without her. It wasn’t something that he could accept, but he wasn’t showing it in the same manner as his parents or his siblings. He remained stoic, though the lines of tension could be seen on his face, and the rigidity that forced his back into an impossible line would bend the strongest steel pole were anyone to attempt to cut him down right then.
Lark walked towards him and placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder. I braced myself for his reaction, expecting him to lash out violently in some manner, in the manner that I was used to seeing from him. Instead, he sighed, and his shoulders dipped a little. But he wouldn’t let himself fall completely. He had too much pride for that. He was too much like his sister.
Instead, he turned to look at Lark. At first, like most humans, he was too overcome with her beauty to say anything. He blinked and swallowed a few times, unable to gather his wits about him and form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. But grief and denial are both strong emotions and after several moments, Sean’s face appeared to clear of its confusion and amazement, allowing him to take in a deep breath and then exhale slowly, his words flowing out loosely as he did.
“You helped her, loved her. I’ll never forget that.”
She gifted him with a dazzling smile that brought on several more rapid blinks before he turned his head to once again gaze upon his sister, who lay motionless on the bed.
How long until they come to take her body away?
I looked at Robert as I thought the question, and he gave an almost imperceptible shrug. That depends solely on how long the Kims want to remain here with her. They’ve requested her remains be cremated, which leaves little for Ambrose’s people to cover up. Lark has Stacy in a deep, relaxed state. Her heart won’t beat unless it needs to, and her mind is at rest so there’s no strain to it or her body. She can remain this way quite comfortably for a few hours, although she is aware of everything that is going on.
I frowned at that. Stacy didn’t need to hear her family grieve for her. Did she?
She needs it, Grace. She needs to have that closure, otherwise her transformation and transition will be a failure
, and everything that you risked will be for nothing.
I didn’t agree with it, and I could tell by the seriousness on Robert’s face that he didn’t either, but this was what he knew. He understood the complexities of death and grief far more than I ever could. I hadn’t been allowed into that part of his life, but with each passing moment of time, I was becoming more and more drawn into it. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to keep anything from me, and the stark look on his face told me that he knew it.
We said nothing to each other after that until Stacy’s body was finally removed. The instructions that were given to the two men who came with a gurney and piles of sheets to wrap her body in were simple. She was to be transported to the Licking Mortuary where her body would be cremated. This was received with stiff nods, and then Stacy was wheeled away, her parents remaining in the room, mindlessly occupying themselves by cleaning things up, rearranging things around and packing up Stacy’s belongings.
Sean shook his head at his parents behavior, and turned to give Lark one last nod before leaving, most likely to join his older brothers. Lark sighed and then walked over to the Stacy’s parents. Her low voice didn’t mask her words, and I heard her give her heartfelt condolences for their loss. She was telling the truth, but she emphasized the fact that this was, indeed, their loss. We hadn’t lost Stacy. Not yet, anyway.
Dad came up to me, his face holding back a somber smile. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t know things had gotten so bad so quickly. Graham told us what was going on and I knew you’d be here. I just didn’t want you to go through it alone.”
He looked at Robert and gave him an awkward smile. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t be alone, but I thought it would be easier for you if I were here.”
I wrapped my arms around him, noting how thin he’d gotten these past couple of days. “Dad, I’m always glad when you’re around. And you’re right, you’ve made it easier. Thank you for coming, and for being there for me when I needed you.”
“Anything for you, kiddo,” he said, returning my hug. “I only wish that death didn’t have such a hold on you. This is too much for someone so young to have to deal with.”
I sputtered at that last bit, and he patted my back, apparently thinking that I had suffered from a sudden coughing fit. “I’m fine now, Dad. Really. This doesn’t frighten me.” I loosened my arms and he took this as a signal to release me in kind.
“How’s Janice doing?”
He gave me a sad smile, his eyes saying much more than he probably could have explained with mere words, though he did try. “She’s trying her best to keep a brave face, but it’s hard. Katie was her only real family member left, besides Matthew. This came on so suddenly; the coroner won’t know what caused Katie’s death for at least a week, but he thinks she suffered from some kind of embolism. Now Janice is worried that it might be genetic and she’s paranoid that the same thing could happen to her.”
My eyes darted away from his; I was afraid that he’d be able to see the guilt in them, almost as much as I feared he’d see what I was planning on doing to prevent Janice’s fears from coming true.
“So,” he said, coughing as he looked between Robert and me. “I probably shouldn’t ask, but I know that your prom’s tomorrow—I wasn’t sure if you were still planning on going or not, given the circumstances…”
“I haven’t thought about it, to be honest with you,” I answered.
“Well, you know that Stacy would have wanted you to go. She wanted a normal life for you almost as much as you did. I think it would have made her happy.”
“I don’t think I could, Dad. It’d feel wrong to go without her.”
“Are you going to be staying with Lark tonight? She looks like she’s taking this quite hard.” I followed his gaze towards where Lark was standing beside Stacy’s mom. She looked as though she had aged several years in just seconds, and I had to blink to convince my eyes that I wasn’t seeing an illusion.
“I think so. I can’t bring my grief over to the house now, not after what happened to Katie. It wouldn’t be fair to Janice.”
“Alright then; Love you, kiddo.”
My voice cracked. “I love you too, Dad.”
With a sigh, he gave me a relenting shrug of his shoulders before turning to offer his condolences to Stacy’s parents. I waited until he was done before stepping forward to offer my own.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” I said to them, though my apology was for far more than their loss. I simply couldn’t tell them that I was sorry that they were right, that my friendship with Stacy had cost them their daughter. I couldn’t tell them that if everything went according to plan, Stacy would be alive, though not in the sense that they were used to.
“You stayed for everything. You stayed when my sons could not. You are a true friend, Grace. Stacy was very blessed to have you in her life,” Mr. Kim said to me while his wife held my hands in hers, patting them with one hand intermittently, sniffling as she did so.
“I’m the one who was blessed to have her friendship, Mr. Kim. And I couldn’t leave even if I’d wanted to,” I replied honestly.
The two of them both nodded and then turned to leave, leaning on each other in support. I wanted to tell them the truth, that Stacy was going to be fine, just different. But I knew that as much as they wanted their daughter to still be alive, they wanted it with conditions—one of them being that she still be human.
She’s not out of the woods yet, Grace. There’s a lot left that has to be done, and I don’t trust Ambrose to be alone with Stacy. We need to go.
I nodded and allowed him to pull me out of the room. We walked quickly through the hallway towards the fire exit. “Where are we going?”
“We don’t have time to wait for an elevator, Grace.”
With a swift turn of the handle, Robert had the fire door open; his arm swooped beneath my knees and lifted me off of the ground, and then he was flying down the stairs, traveling down several flights of stairs in a fraction of a second.
“Whoa,” I groaned, dizzied by the unnatural speed at which we had traveled.
“I’m sorry, but that was necessary.”
“I understand, I do, but my stomach doesn’t. That just adds another complication to things.”
He chuckled. “Here’s one more,” he said with an amused smile.
“Grace! Robert!”
We both turned around to see Shawn walking towards us, a cellophane wrapped bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“Shawn! What are you doing here?”
“I’m coming to visit my sister. She just had a baby girl—my first niece—what are you two doing here?” he asked, his eyes darting back and forth at the two of us, taking note of our hands clasped together.
“Stacy…Stacy died today,” I replied, my eyes unable to remain on his face, afraid that he’d see the lie behind them.
Shawn’s smile collapsed, his arm dropping to his side in shock. “Are you serious? But I thought she was doing okay!”
Robert patted Shawn’s shoulder, a friendly gesture that was meant to both comfort and distract Shawn. “It happened rather suddenly. She fell into a coma and her parents decided to remove her from life support, rather than keep her on until the cancer finally killed her.”
Shawn moved towards me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders in a rather awkward hug, his body arched sideways to keep a distance between us. “I’m so sorry, Grace. The two of you were so tight...”
“Thanks, Shawn,” I murmured. “Listen, I was going to call you later and tell you-”
He lifted his head and pulled away from me, holding his hand up to stop me from finishing. “I know what you’re going to say and I completely understand. You want to go to prom with Robert. Losing someone you care about can totally change how you look at things, and I don’t blame you for wanting to go with him rather than with me. Heck, I’d go with him if I could.”
I couldn’t help it. I smiled at that comment. “Actually, Shawn, I was going to tell yo
u that I don’t think I can go to prom. With everything that’s happened lately, the last thing I want to do is get dressed up for a dance.”
This seemed to cheer him up a bit and he nodded in agreement. “That’s totally understandable. Besides, I don’t think that there’s going to be a prom.”
“What? Why not?”
“Oh crap, you weren’t in school today, were you? Of course not, so you don’t know. Erica Hamilton attacked Mr. Branke today.”
I heard my jaw drop, heard the hollow pop it made as it snapped open in shock. “What?”
“Yeah. It happened during third period. Erica just went ballistic. Some of the kids think that the two of them probably had some side thing going—which is kind of gross; okay, really gross—and Erica heard about Mr. Branke’s date with that new teacher, Miss Violent, and-”
I cut him off. “Wait, Mr. Branke is dating Miss Deovolente?”
“Yeah, I guess. They had a date the other night—everyone saw them together. Mr. Branke was holding onto Miss Violent’s hand and-”
“Deovolente. Her last name is Deovolente.”
“Yeah, well, after what happened today, she’ll be known as Miss Violent forever.”
“What happened?”
“Everything was cool, you know, copacetic, and then Erica comes into the classroom and starts wailing on Mr. Branke in the middle of class. And he just kind of stood there, like a robot. He’s been acting pretty weird lately, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but these past couple of days, it’s like he’s not even there. Not really. And Erica just launched herself at him, screaming and hissing like some kind of rabid cat or something. She must have been jealous because she kept saying crap about how he’s in her head, she can’t get him out of her mind, and junk like that.
“Anyway, Miss Viol—erm, Miss Deovolente came in and pulled Erica off of Mr. Branke, and then Erica went all batshit-insane and started wailing on her. Mr. Branke kind of just stood there and watched, didn’t do anything. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have done anything either; two chicks fighting over me? That’s hot!