In Memoriam

by Michael Beaulieu

  “Who are you gonna paint?” January asks me.

  “Think it would cheer Lia up if I paint her portrait? I have plenty of photos in my phone to refer to.” Hundreds of them, in fact. I can never bring myself to delete any, this even though I have them backed up on my laptop.

  January thinks for a moment before she speaks. “Yeah. I mean, we all know she’s the best artist out of all of us, but I don’t think that would prevent her from enjoying a painting of herself done by you. I’m sure she’d be very flattered and treasure it.”

  I nod. That makes sense. “Thanks. And if it comes out shitty, I can always just stick it in the back of my closet where she’ll never see it.”

  “As long as you have a back up plan, eh?” Em says to me with a shit eating grin that reminds me of Li.

  I laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “So, I have a question for you guys,” January says, facing Me, Em and Jim; Pete is behind her.

  “Shoot,” Em says. She always wants to hear January’s ideas, as one does when they’re infatuated with someone.

  Whatever Jan is about to say, she’s quite excited about it. “So, I was just thinking that I could skip lunch and make my way to Happy Accidents and bring Lia and Juliana lattes.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Em says. “I have to spend lunch interviewing Mr. Solomon for my article about the frog revival.”

  January looks at me. Of course, she wants my blessing since I’m Li’s girlfriend. I have to think about it for a minute before I answer. “It probably couldn’t hurt. But maybe don’t offer to ease her anxiety again. If she thinks that’s the only reason you’re there then she’ll just get frustrated. Also, she might be asleep because she was taking something and trying to take a nap an hour ago.”

  January nods and smiles. “That’s cool. I’d offer to take you with me, but I know you have little experience with that kind of candy and I just wouldn’t be able to make it from here to Happy Accidents carrying someone. We’d have to make a few extra stops to play it safe. And then we might not be back by the time lunch is over.”

  I shrug. “I get it. You just go and make sure you’re back in time.”

  January looks at Jim, who’s already painting and doesn’t notice until Em nudges him with her elbow.

  “What?” he asks.

  Em pokes him in the arm with her finger. “January wants your input.”

  Jim looks at January. “Yeah, no, I think bringing her something from the café sounds good. Bring her a sweet carb.” I guess he was paying attention.

  “Right,” January says then she turns to me and asks, “What kind of pastries does Lia like?”

  I laugh a little. “I don’t think Li has ever met one she doesn’t like. But she especially loves their marshmallow donuts and gooey cinnamon rolls.”

  January nods. “Got it.” Then she looks at Pete. “Still cool with you if I go?”

  He frowns. “I already told you, it sounds cool to me.”

  January gives him a quick peck on the cheek and he smiles. I notice that she doesn’t blush, however, unlike when she talks about Em. So, that’s probably not good news for Pete.

  “What did club hacker want with you yesterday anyway?” Em asks Pete.

  “Nothing legal, which is why I didn’t help them. But they’ve threatened to tell the school how I hacked their system to get us in if I don’t change my mind. So, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Want me to deal with them?” Jim asks.

  Blood immediately rushes to Em’s face and she looks irate. “Like how you dealt with the a-holes at Noah’s?”

  Jim gives Em a disappointed look. “I would’ve thought you’d trust me not to go overboard like that again.”

  Em puts her arms around his hips and pulls him closer to her. “Sorry. I do trust you. I just don’t want things to escalate to the point that they did before.”

  Jim sighs. “I know. Nobody does. Me included.”

  Pete raises his voice. “Listen, everyone, I appreciate that Jim wants to help, but these are my type of people and I’m sure I’ll come up with the best way to deal with them.”

  Jim leans over so he can face Pete. “Well, you think about it and we can talk about it at lunch. Cool?”

  Pete nods a couple of times. “Yeah. Hey, can we work on candy after school while the girls get ready for tonight?”

  Jim smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

  We make small talk as we continue painting. I paint Lia using a photo I took of her with a sunset in the background as my reference. It’s comes out really, really nice. I don’t think I quite got her nose right, but I nailed her eyes and it definitely looks like her.

  “She’s gonna love it,” Em says to me.

  I smile. “I hope so.”

  January paints a bunch of fairies flying around some flowers together. I guess they’re humanoid enough that Ms. Gregory will consider them people. One looks like January herself with butterfly style wings that have ladybug markings on them. “Do you want to fly with other fairies like that?”

  January shrugs. “I’d just like to meet one other fairy.”

  I nod. “I can understand that.”

  Em paints Supergirl except she gives her wavy, strawberry blonde hair, just slightly lighter than January’s fiery red hair.

  Jim takes a good look at her painting. “I didn’t realize you were a Supergirl fan.”

  Em sighs. “I just didn’t know what to paint.”

  Jim paints his late sister Amy.

  “She looks beautiful,” Em says.

  Pete paints a cyborg. I think he based it on January, but it’s hard to see her with the robotics all over her body. Even half of her face is covered with metal. She laughs at it, but I find myself wondering if that’s his fantasy, being the techie that he is. I’m sure she must be wondering the same.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  JANUARY

  After the bell rings at the end of art, our group hangs out in the back row until the other students are gone then I blink and I’m standing in a restroom stall at Happy Accidents. It’s not like I could just appear at the register in front of other customers or sitting at some stranger’s table. Not without freaking people the fuck out. I’m just lucky nobody was in the stall I appeared in! That sure would’ve been awkward.

  It doesn’t sound like there’s anyone else in the restroom, but I very quietly push the stall door open a little and peak. I don’t want to have to hypnotize anybody else like the goths this morning. Fortunately, there’s no one in the restroom after all. I exit the stall and head for the door.

  Now I’m in line behind a few people who don’t look much older than I do. They’re probably college freshmen, Lowell being the big college city that it is now. I still don’t think I want to go to a university myself. I’m sure I could just ask Pete to make me a diploma from somewhere if I wanted something to hang on the wall. I’m sure he could hack the school and make it look like I was a student there for four years, too. It’s not that I’m opposed to learning, mind you. I’m just opposed to winding up a hundred grand in debt just from attending a mediocre college. A mediocre college where I’ll be forced to study things that don’t even pertain to my major just because the powers that be mandate that you have to study more mathematics, for example. And I’m good at math. It’s just not something I want to specialize in for the rest of my life. I fully intend to graduate high school and never do algebra again. Ever.

  My turn in line. Just as the pretty barista is about to ask what I want that owner dude Emma knows comes over and puts a tray of muffins on a rack behind the counter.

  “Excuse me,” I say to him and make the just a minute hand gesture to the barista.

  He turns and looks at me, but he doesn’t recognize me.

  I speak louder than usual to be sure he understands me. “Hi, I’m friends with Emma, Lia and Shar. Remember me?”

  He nods. “Oh, yes, I recall you coming here with them before.”

  I know Em
ma said what his name was, but it slips my mind. “I can’t remember your name.”

  “Vincent,” he says and offers me his hand.

  We shake. “I’m January.”

  He smiles. “What a lovely name.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, Lia is home sick and I’m here to get her something to cheer her up. I know she likes the marshmallow donuts and cinnamon rolls. So, I’ll take two of each, but I can’t remember what she drinks.”

  “Lia? She likes our caramel latte but she also gets a mocha once in a while.”

  I smile. “Then I’ll take two of each.” I figure Lia can have what she wants and Juliana and I will choose between the others.

  “Do you want those hot or iced?” the barista asks me.

  I look at Vincent.

  “Lia and her friends usually get them iced,” he says.

  I nod. “Then let’s go with that.”

  Vincent asks me to tell Lia he hopes she feels better before he goes out back.

  The barista rings me up and it comes to $31.50. Suffice to say, it’s a good thing I haven’t had the chance to spend my allowance lately.

  Once everything is ready, I put the pastry bag on top of the drink tray and carefully carry it out of the café. Thank Goddess a kind elderly gentleman holds the door open for me. I head around the building, figuring I can teleport to Lia’s unseen from behind the dumpster but when I head back there I’m shocked to discover the last two people I ever expected to see again; the man and woman who robbed and stabbed me to death. I almost drop the drinks and pastries as I shudder.

  ‘Well, well, well, look who it is,” the woman says and her and the man laugh. They’re sitting on the ground, sharing a bottle of alcohol. It’s in a bag, but I can smell it from where I’m standing five feet away. It’s something minty and it makes the inside of my nose burn. They also reek of urine and B.O. and I have to fight the urge to gag.

  “You got something for us, sweetie?” the guy asks in an imposing way as they both stand up.

  “Just a minute,” I mutter and take a step backwards. I don’t know what to do. I could just teleport away. Nobody’s going to believe a couple of homeless drunks if they tell them about some girl vanishing. But maybe I should incinerate them first? All I can think about now is wanting them dead. Wanting them to burn. As Emma would say, merde, merde, merde. Shit, shit, shit. I want revenge, but I also don’t want to risk spilling the drinks so I shut my eyes and envision myself in Lia and Juliana’s living room and when I open them I’m standing right there. Whew.

  Juliana bolts up from where she was sitting on the couch, startled by the fact that I just appeared between her and whatever she was watching on TV. Unfortunately, she drops her laptop in the process. Needless to say she looks pissed. “Shit! January, what the hell?”

  “Sorry,” I say as I step over to the snack bar and put the drinks and pastries down. “I brought goodies from Happy Accidents. Hoping to cheer Lia up.”

  “Well, thanks,” Juliana says as she picks up the laptop and places it on the coffee table before she comes over and we sit down at the snack bar.

  “I need your advice,” I say, slightly out of breath.

  “OK,” she says calmly.

  I can’t get the words out fast enough. “Well, when I went behind the café to teleport here I ran into the man and woman who stabbed me and left me to die. And I want to go back there right now and turn them into human sparklers.”

  “I imagine that would make quite the scene.”

  “I suppose. But if I leave them be then they can go around killing more innocent people. I should’ve found them as soon as I came back and made sure they couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

  “It wouldn’t be your fault if they did. I hope you know that.” Normally, I find her voice to be so relaxing. But it’s failing to calm me down right now.

  “I want them dead so bad.” I slam my fists against my legs.

  “What about talking to the police?”

  I shake my head. “I barely have a scar left and it was months ago. I doubt the cops would just take my word for it.”

  She rubs my shoulder. “Any idea what Hannashurie would want you to do?”

  “Well, if they hadn’t killed me then she wouldn’t have made me a fairy.” I have to admit that much. “But at the same time, Hannashurie gave me my gifts to help me and my friends. So, you know what, I think she’d want me to torch them.”

  “You’re positive it’s them?”

  “The woman is wearing the same filthy clothes.”

  “Ah. Well, you could go torch them, but I think it would be better if you stayed here and talked to Lia. I’m sure you could find them again sometime if you look.”

  I want to help Lia, but I also don’t want those two psycho drunks to hurt anyone else. And, you know what, they ought to pay for what they did to me. They left me for dead so I should leave them for dead, too. That’s it. My mind’s made up. “I’ll be right back.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  EMMA

  I stop at my locker and grab the PB & J I made this morning and my afternoon books before I head into the restroom. I need to call my mother before I interview Mr. Solomon. I told her what was happening with Priscilla in a text message earlier and asked her to call and see if she can have visitors yet. I figure if they say yes then that’ll mean they didn’t find her DNA on the knife. If they say she can’t, well, I’ll try not to assume the worst.

  Unfortunately, the restroom is crowded so I go to the one free corner, put my backpack down and call Mom’s cell.

  “Hi, Em,” she answers. “I only have a minute.” She must be at her law office.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Did you have a chance to call the hospital?”

  “I did and they said she isn’t accepting visitors right now.”

  My shoulders jerk, making my cervical spine crack a few times. “What does that mean?”

  “Probably just that she wants some alone time. I wouldn’t read anything negative into it.”

  “I know. It’s just, that could mean she wants alone time, like you said, or it could mean they’re not allowing her to have visitors still.”

  “Sorry, Em. I asked which it meant and the woman I spoke with said she didn’t know.”

  I feel my jaw tightening. “Ah. Merde. Maybe I’ll try calling her room? Guess that’s what I should’ve had you do instead of asking reception about her visitor status.”

  Fuck! I know I seem to be the only one, but I’m worried sick about Priscilla and Krystal. Ever since my Great Grandmother Ruth told me to watch out for them, I’ve felt a pressing need to help them. I know I need to chill already, but that’s easier said than done. [Besides, I saved their lives. In most traditional cultures, that would mean I’m now responsible for them.]

  I call the hospital. I know the number by heart since my father is their chief cardiology, but I have it programmed into my phone anyway.

  “Greater Lowell Hospital,” a receptionist says, answering on the second ring.

  “Yes, could you please connect me to Priscilla Hatfield’s room?”

  “May I ask who’s calling? She’s only accepting certain calls.”

  Wonder what that means. “Emma McGlinchey-Beaulieu. She might have me down with only one of my last names.”

  “Just a second.”

  She sends me to Muzak, which is playing some awful Ed Sheeran ballad I’ve heard a million times, and I start biting a hangnail off my left thumb. Might as well get something done while I’m waiting.

  Just as the skin finally breaks, which hurts like a motherfucker, the receptionist comes back. “Yes, you are on the list, Emma. I’ll connect you right away.”

  The phone rings. And rings. And rings. Then someone picks up.

  “Hello?” Priscilla says, sounding tired.

  I try to sound as upbeat as possible. “Hey, it’s Emma. I was just trying to find out if you can have visitors now or wha
t’s going on?”

  “Everything is fine now. My DNA, which the FBI explained to me at length, wasn’t on the knife she used. They said I was never really a suspect because nobody would be stupid enough to lock themselves in a cell so long that their muscles atrophied like mine.”

  “Good point,” I say and let out a sigh of relief. “So, how are you doing?”

  “OK, I guess. They’ve had me see two therapists but I told them both off.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess they didn’t seem that interested in me as a person. They were approaching me like a test subject. And I felt like half their questions weren’t actually coming from them. Like the FBI was feeding them things to ask me.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them. But, unfortunately, I have to let you go. I need to go interview my biology teacher for the school paper. But I’ll be by to see you tomorrow night.”

  “You can’t come tonight?” She sounds surprised. She must not remember me telling her about the memorial.

  “Tonight I have that memorial for my friend. Why don’t you see if you can go visit with Krystal this afternoon?”

  “Oh, I overheard the FBI saying she went home from the hospital today.”

  Son of a fucking bitch! Exactly what I didn’t want to happen. “OK, I’ll call her there later.”

  “Thanks for checking on me, Emma.”

  “Not a problem,” I say. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  I put my phone back in my pocket, feeling shitty because I can’t visit Priscilla tonight. But surely she can go one night without me. [Or maybe she’ll burn the hospital down to the ground?] No, she has all of the nurses and doctors to look over her and the FBI to protect her. How much trouble could she get into? [Again, maybe she’ll torch the fucking hospital? And maybe if that happens Dad will spend more time with me?] I’m sure Priscilla will be fine tonight. [Do I really fucking believe that?] My biggest concern right now is Krystal. I think they’re sending her home too soon. I feel like she should have had a week of daily therapy and maybe even psychiatric observation before she was brought home and left to her own devices. I’m sure her parents will keep a close eye on her, though. Besides, I don’t think she’d hurt herself. She just misses her friends like crazy. I wish I could call her right now, but Mr. Solomon must be wondering where I am and I don’t want to piss him off. In any case, now the restroom is empty. I duck in a stall, pee, wash my hands and I’m off to question Mr. Solomon.