The Magic List- Girl Invictus

by Mark Tiro

  “Oh, why not, Maya? It’s not like it’s a party or anything.”

  “You know my parents would never let me go,” I said.

  I thought about that a moment, considering. No—my dad would let me go. Even before his heart attack, he would’ve let me go. But my mom—no way. Even now, when she’s half depressed out of her mind, lying around on the couch all day, watching bad daytime TV—she still would never let me go. She would let my brothers go, of course, because they were boys. And because they were older, but mostly because they were boys. But me—never. I could ask her, I thought, but I didn’t have the energy to get yelled at by my mom today. I didn’t want to do anything that would set her off. Most of the time, she had no energy, it seemed, but every now and then, something—and you’d never know what it was until you’d done it or said it—would set her off. And then… boom! Mom would erupt at you, screaming, saying the meanest, nastiest things. She even hit dad once. Not hard, I think—or at least, he didn’t ever talk about it after that. But we all saw it, and he just became really quiet after it happened.

  For years.

  We all did.

  Sean even says that it took a few more years after that, but she finally gave him that heart attack. “She finally won,” Sean would tell me.

  “Maybe your parents will let you come to the party if you bring your brother,” Angel went on. “Sean is old enough to drive now, isn’t he?”

  “Well, yes and no. He can drive, but—no. They would never let me go. Not to a boy’s house, and his parents won’t even be there. And oh, the only thing that could be worse would be if his parents were there. So—no. I can’t go. Plus, I have to study. I have math prep class, and regular homework, too. I can’t just, what? Blow it all off? I’d get in trouble.”

  “What about me?” Angel said. “Don’t you care about me? I don’t want to go alone, Maya. You know that. Please come with me, Maya, please? Please? Please?”

  “No. I need to focus on school. And besides, you can’t always just make me smile by acting cute, like you’re a little kid.” As soon as I’d said it, I cracked a smile, despite my best intention not to. I was trying to stay mad at her, so why am I smiling?

  “Plus,” I went on, trying my best to look as angry as I could at her, “my mom would never let me go, anyway.” I said it as firmly as I could muster, which wasn’t very firm at all. Plus, I’m sure I looked ridiculous with my angry/not angry face.

  “Are you okay, Maya? My uncle has that exact same look on his face when he eats too much spicy food.”

  I laughed out loud. I didn’t mean to, but she was my best friend and I couldn’t help myself. The truth is—I wasn’t even going to ask my mom. How could I? I knew that whatever Angel would feel by me not going to Steve’s party, or brunch or whatever it was, with her—I would get that, plus a million times worse, from my mom, just for the sin of asking…

  “But why would you want to go without me, Angel? Why? I don’t understand. And you know I like Steve.”

  “It’s just brunch, and probably even study, too. You know—and we’ll all just hang out or whatever. A whole bunch of kids from our class are coming, and Steve wanted you to come, too. He asked about you, you know.”

  “Steve? How do you know he wants me to come? He really asked about me? He knows who I am?”

  At that, she gave me a weird look.

  “I mean—of course he knows who I am,” I stammered quickly, “but he really asked about me? What did he say about me, Angel? Wait… and why was he was talking to… to… you and not me?”

  “He just told me to tell you to come.”

  “That’s it? That’s it?” I stammered again. I was almost starting to get a little crazy, I think. “What did he say? What words did he actually say?”

  “I don’t remember, but you really should just come, Maya. Talk to your parents, will you, please? I gotta go, my mom’s waiting to pick me up. But just ask her.” And then Angel turned and headed out the door.

  3

  Three

  I didn’t plan to go to Steve’s brunch that weekend.

  And then I did.

  There was no way I was going to ask mom, of course, for permission. Or for a ride. Or for anything else, for that matter. And as for dad, well, nothing he said really mattered anymore, at least as far as mom was concerned. Since his heart attack, mom had pretty much taken charge of everything.

  “You can do whatever you want, Maya. Just keep your grades up, that’s all,” Sean had told me. “You know, the only thing she ever gets off the couch for now is to yell at us.”

  “Maybe I don’t like being yelled at?” I had shot back defensively.

  “You get used to it. Anyway—this is all at home. No one outside will ever know.”

  But the weekend of the brunch, I kept thinking about it, over and over. By Sunday, the day of Steve’s brunch, I hadn’t been able to focus on anything else the whole weekend. That morning was one of those rare weekend times Sean was at home and not out doing whatever it was that he usually did on weekends.

  Sean had more freedom than he’d ever had, now that he could drive.

  I tried to read my English assignment while I was lying in bed. It was some terrible book or other we had to read for the exam (though weren’t they all?). But I couldn’t focus. I just kept thinking about Steve’s brunch and Angel there and everyone from our school there, eating, laughing, having a good time.

  I just kept thinking about it, over and over and over.

  And so when I finally heard Sean get up—this must’ve been almost noon by now—I jumped out of my bed, ran down to the bathroom and kind of whispered to him through the door.

  “Sean? Can you hear me?” I didn’t want to be too loud. Plus, I was still working up the courage to ask.

  No answer.

  “Sean?” I asked again, tapping lightly now on the door.

  Finally, I heard his voice. Gravelly and half asleep, but he heard me.

  “What is it, Maya? I’m on the toilet. Can’t I just, you know—take a…”

  I think it was a joke because Sean would never say anything like that to me. He didn’t finish his sentence, and I started talking through the door again, just in case, to make sure he didn’t.

  Finish the sentence, that is. Back then, I would’ve been mortified if he’d finished that sentence.

  “Sean—will you do me a big favor?” I whispered, trying to be quiet so that mom wouldn’t hear me downstairs. But the water was running in the bathroom now.

  “What is it? I can’t hear you?”

  “Sean,” I said again, raising my voice louder. Now I’m sure dad would hear me from his bed down the hall—that is, if he were awake. And Tom would probably overhear me too, though the door was still closed.

  “Sean,” I repeated again, louder, “will you please do me a huge favor? Will you give me a ride?”

  “A ride? This early? Where to?”

  “It’s noon already, and it’s to a party—” I started to say, but I stopped and then tried again. “To a brunch a lot of kids from my class are at?”

  “Oooooh, you have a date!”

  “No, I don’t!” I protested, but he just teased me, singing through the door while he got ready, just like a little kid would, “Maya’s got a date. Maya’s got a date. Maya’s got a date.”

  “Stop it!” I blurted, trying to get him to be quiet. “I don’t. It’s just a brunch with kids from school at Steve’s house. Angel’s there, too.”

  “Sure, Maya,” he said, finally letting up. “Just hurry up. I’m going down to meet some of my friends for some pickup basketball. I can give you a ride, but you’re going to have to catch a ride home. Is that okay? Can one of your friend’s parents or someone give you a ride home?”

  “Sure, of course! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said, excited, running back to my room to hurry up and get ready.

  By the time Sean dropped me off at Steve’s house for the brunch, it was almost one in the afternoon. It
didn’t look like there were too many people left. Some other kids from school who I’d seen a lot but had never talked to before were hanging out on the front porch—not quite leaving yet, but obviously done with whatever was going on inside.

  As I walked up to the house, I tried to look over and say ‘hi’, but the best I could do was just sort of shrug and nod my head.

  No matter—they ignored me as I walked by, up to the front door.

  As I walked up, I passed Angel’s bike on my way to the front door. It was laying on the grass, probably exactly where she’d thrown it. She would do that a lot. It’s a wonder it hadn’t been stolen by now.

  I knocked on the door, and a grown up I had never seen before answered it.

  I gulped but tried to pull myself together.

  “Hello. I’m sorry I’m late. I’m Maya. I go to school with Steve. Did I completely miss the brunch?”

  The grown up, who must’ve been Steve’s uncle I’m guessing, smiled and opened the door.

  “No, not completely. I mean—most of the food’s gone, but there are still some people here,” he said as he motioned to the kids outside I’d shrugged and nodded to when I’d walked up to the door. “And Steve’s upstairs in his room—I think some of his other friends are still up there, too. Feel free to just head on up and say ‘hi’.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I stammered, forcing myself to smile to cover up how nervous I really was.

  His uncle pointed me in the right direction, and I headed up the stairs.

  I tried to take in all the details of his house as I headed up. It was nice and clean. And big. Best of all—it didn’t look like his mom made a permanent sickbed on the couch in the living room in front of the TV all day, like my mom did.

  I got to the top of the stairs and looked around. All the rooms were open except one. I looked in each of them, hoping I’d see Angel, or Steve, or at least some of the other kids from my class.

  There were some other kids hanging out in some of the other rooms. I asked where Steve or Angel were, and mostly they just shrugged. Someone suggested that maybe they were in one of the other rooms, and that I should go check.

  I saw two other rooms, and they both had doors that were closed. It must’ve been one of these they meant.

  And so I tapped lightly on the door.

  No one answered, but I figured that was normal. They must have probably been playing a video game or something in there with headphones or something so that they didn’t notice my tap on the door.

  I knocked again, this time a little louder.

  Still no answer.

  I thought about knocking one more time, but then decided I should just go downstairs and ask his uncle. Maybe they were all outside now. That’s when I heard Angel’s voice. Or at least, I thought I heard her voice, but it was muffled. It sounded like something was wrong, though. I waited there a minute by the door, thinking. It sounded like Angel, yes—but I’d never heard her sound like this before. It was like she—if it was her—or someone was suffering. So I figured I would just push the door open and look to make sure she was okay.

  And so I did.

  I pushed the door open.

  I pushed it open, but instead of seeing lots of kids talking and playing videos or whatever, I only saw two.

  Angel and Steve.

  And they were in bed.

  Together.

  Naked.

  4

  Four

  As soon as I saw them, I turned from that room and ran down the stairs, and then outside. I turned towards home and ran home. I stopped halfway to my house, in front of a random front yard. That’s where I crumpled up into a ball on the ground. That’s where I broke down and cried my eyes out.

  I don’t remember how long I lay there, trying to catch my breath, trying to stop my tears. It was a while, I think. Or maybe not long at all.

  At some point, though, I picked myself up, cleaned the grass off my clothes, and walked the rest of the way back home. When I got there, Sean’s car still wasn’t back. I supposed that it hadn’t been that long since I’d been gone.

  I walked in, took off my shoes by the door, and then walked upstairs. I tiptoed past dad’s room, past the closed door to the room Sean and Tom shared, and went into my room.

  A little while later, I heard Tom’s voice, calling for me to come over.

  I got up off my bed and walked over to his room to see what the shithead wanted.

  Something happened I can’t remember, but that wasn’t important. I can’t remember anyway. What I do remember is this beautiful light I noticed. And really, how could I not have noticed it? I took a deep breath. I breathed the light in. It was beautiful. It was a beautiful light, a pulsating balm, and it filled every space. It permeated every corner, infused every thing—including me. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. Or where I’d gotten to.

  I couldn’t even remember who I was.

  But the essential, I remember perfectly. Perfect light. Perfect love. All of it enveloping me, pulling me, inviting me.

  I walked.

  Forward, I walked down this path. Then I disappeared, off and into the light. I had nowhere in particular I needed to be. At least none that came to mind. And with nowhere else to be, I just kept right on walking. Or floating. I didn’t even get tired like I do sometimes when I walk a long way hiking or something. It was more like I was thinking my way forward, propelling myself with just the smallest, littlest thought to go on. I know that sounds weird. I know that doesn’t make any sense. But it’s true, and I thought myself forward, on down the tunnel, off into this… this… beauty.

  And so I went on alone. Kind of, I think. But… what’s that? I don’t know. What could it matter, anyway? This had to be bliss. Floating, peaceful, tranquil… bliss.

  “Who is that? Is someone here?” I asked. Or thought. My words were as much thought now as words.

  But of course not. There’s just light, everywhere. Love and light, and I don’t care about anything, and I don’t need anything, and everything is just fine. Still, I was getting nowhere fast. Not that I wanted to, because I didn’t. But after a little while, I started to wonder where this place was. And what it was.

  And so I drifted on, forward, down this tunnel of light. Or so it seemed. But I was starting to feel like a little girl, more and more lost the deeper I floated in. I kept drifting, and I began to feel more alone, more… rudderless.

  And that’s when I noticed.

  Him.

  I don’t know his name, but I saw him there, off to the side, a sort of bemused half-smile lighting up his eyes.

  “Let’s take a walk, Maya,” he said, reaching out his hand to help me get up.

  “Who are you?” I asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, I quickly added, “No thank you, anyway. I can take care of myself just fine.”

  But the thought occurred to me that obviously I couldn’t take care of myself. Heck, I wasn’t even entirely sure where I was now, and I certainly couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here. And so, obviously—I needed some help.

  The way spread out before us, and it was glowing now. Obviously, this was a sign for me, the help I needed. The way to go. I tried to relax into it. It worked, and that’s the way I went.

  That’s the way we went.

  “Are you willing to come?” the voice said. His voice. “We’ll be back home soon. And everything is still okay. I promise.”

  “Uh… okay,” I stammered in response. It was the only thing I could think to say.

  The tunnel of light shimmered and glowed, spreading out before us. It was beautiful.

  My own thoughts just about made me panic, but I didn’t get the feeling that anything here was dangerous at all. And so I put on a brave face. “Do I need shoes?” I asked. “Because if I do, they’re downstairs by the door.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just chuckled slightly.

  That’s the moment I understood.

  “Ah! I get it! That’s funny. Shoes are fun
ny! Of course I don’t need shoes—I don’t have feet.” I laughed to myself as I looked down and saw that I was no more than light, no different than this ‘place’ with its light all around me, no different than anything around me.

  No different than… him.

  I couldn’t feel my body, and I couldn’t see it. Everything, me included, seemed like nothing more than light and thought and love.

  I laughed again. I’m not in a body! For some reason, this struck me as the funniest thing in the world. And so I laughed some more.

  My friend here, whoever he was, laughed now too, right along with me.

  After a bit of this, we both melded into a quiet, gentle calm. A warm balm seemed to fill me from inside, calming everything. It felt good to be here now.

  “Don’t forget your pad of paper,” he said.

  “My what?” I asked, confused.

  “The pad of paper. Don’t forget to grab it. And your pen, too,” he added, smiling. “Don’t forget that, either. The pad of paper wouldn’t do much good without the pen, now, would it?”

  “I don’t understand,” I pleaded. “I don’t have a pad of paper. Or a pen,” I added.

  He looked over and nodded down. I looked down and was astonished to see what he was nodding at.

  It was that pad of paper I’d found and grabbed from the room, along with the fake-oil smudged pen.

  5

  Five

  We walked on in silence.

  Me clutching my pad and paper, and him… well—I couldn’t really even see him at all. But I knew he was there. We both were.

  We went along, talking, or actually, exchanging thoughts. It was like we were old friends—no need to make small talk or introductions. And I wasn’t nervous like I usually was, talking to people I don’t know. It just seemed like we’d known each other forever.

  After a while, the thought occurred to me that I couldn’t remember his name, even though it seemed that I must. But I didn’t know it, and so I asked him. I asked him in a thought, which was effortless, and infinitely better at communicating what I meant.