Deliverance

by Véronique Launier

  In the corner opposite the furniture are the instruments. I walk towards them and examine them. They are well used, and mid-range quality. These kids try hard to appear posh, and from a distance they pull it off, but everything here is a little worn, and most-likely obtained second-hand. I take a second look at the instruments. There is no harp. Was I supposed to bring my own?

  "No harp?"

  "Oh, Davood said he would bring the one from the studio, but he's late. Actually Roxana was supposed to be here by now too."

  Just then some grunts resonate from the narrow stairs and Davood and Garnier appear in the doorway carrying a harp. Not the one from the studio, but the one from the store. It's been repaired, though it’s still a little worse for wear.

  They place it by the other instruments and stand around awkwardly. When I look at the harp, the ground around me spins a little. This harp and her sister play center stage in the weird issues I'm having. I turn away from it and kneel down to examine a canvas leaning against the wall. The artwork is amazing. A combination of mosaic tiles, ink and paint. A woman is the main subject. And though at first glance she appears to be painted in a style that reminds me of traditional miniatures, she is full size, and her make-up and the somber colors of her clothing are modern. But it's not what grabs my attention.

  It's me. Playing the harp. I stand up and back away from the piece, and nearly knock down Amir-Reza who was just coming in with platters of steaming saffron rice with barberry and boiled chicken. The ever present smell of saffron and turmeric that already wafted in from the above restaurant amplifies and grounds me in reality. No visions for me this time. For now.

  "She looks like you, doesn't she?" he says as he puts the plates down on the coffee table. "Roxana said it was a sign that we met you the day after we got this piece of artwork from the restaurant."

  "From the restaurant?"

  "One of my father's regular patrons gave it to him and said it was for me. People give things to my father a lot, but nothing this beautiful before. He said the girl belonged in my band. My father was shocked since he didn't think this customer knew I had a band. Anyway, we decided he must have meant to be in this space. See, Roxana and Siavash helped decorate this space for my father to use for special events. In return, we get to use it whenever it isn't booked."

  My heart sinks. "So this is why you wanted me in your band?"

  “Davood didn't know about the painting. He wanted you because he thought you had talent. We agreed with him so fast even though we know nothing about you because of the painting."

  "Where is Roxana, anyway?" Garnier asks.

  I'd forgotten he was here. Since when do I forget the presence of cute rich boys? Leyli would be so disappointed in me. I miss Leyli. Like real heart-tightening miss her. I never realized how much I relied on her and how alone I would be without her. Even surrounded by people, I am alone without her.

  "She's not answering her phone," says Amir-Reza between spoonfuls of rice. He's the only one already eating. The rest of us are standing around awkwardly.

  "I guess we can practice without vocals," Siavash says.

  "No, we need to get the timing right with the vocals."

  The boys are both tense and Garnier and I share a look. I guess I'm not completely alone. Garnier is here and I know him well inside my heart. Though that scares me as much as anything.

  Just the fact I’m casually considering the idea of him being some sort of ageless creature is absurd. But I have to admit, I'm comfortable with it. More or less.

  “Maybe Nakissa can help,” he says.

  “Me? How?”

  “You can sing the songs.”

  “I’m not the singing type.”

  Garnier shrugs. “I think you are. But, even if I’m wrong, it doesn’t matter. You can sing now just to help out.”

  “Yeah Nakissa. You’re the only girl here and the songs were definitely written in a female perspective,” Farhad says.

  “Hey, if anyone other than Nakissa could pull off a female perspective, it would be you, Farhad.”

  The boys all start teasing each other but I don’t participate. I didn’t realize I’m the only girl here until they pointed it out. So what I’m the only girl in a room full of boys? It’s about the music, not anything else.

  It’s about the music, and I feel like singing. “I’ll do it.”

  They shrug and Farhad goes off to find me the music sheets with the lyrics. I press my lips together. It’s not like I expected them to sing my praises for agreeing to sing, but they could have been more grateful.

  People used to be very grateful to be allowed to hear me play. I sit in front of the harp and wait for the strange visions to come over me, but they don’t. What I’m feeling isn’t overwhelming. Just a vague memory from a long time ago. I used to play for kings. I was beloved at court, powerful in my own way. Now who am I? I don’t even know if I’m an ageless immortal musician or simply a teenage girl with issues. I stroke the harp’s strings. Whoever I am, I belong here.

  The boys give me a few minutes to go over the lyrics but I don’t know what to do with them. How can I just sing a song I’ve never really paid attention to before? Each time Roxana sang, I’d been already lost in my weird visions. This time, it won’t be an honor to hear me. Maybe I should refuse. We can practice without singing.

  But I catch the way Garnier looks at me. He believes in me. There is not a doubt in his mind because he knows I can sing. He’s had the honor of hearing me before. I’ve disappointed him before and I won’t do it now.

  “I’m ready.” I’m anything but.

  The others take their places and Davood excuses himself while Garnier grabs a plate of food and settles down on the couch. This is it. I look at the music sheet again. I know how to read this. I make a few calculations and mental adjustments to the music in front of me. Farhad starts the beat on the drums, and I begin plucking the melody on the strings of the harp for a several seconds before Amir-Reza and Siavash follow us with the guitar and bass.

  The mood of the music seizes me and I start chanting softly. The sound is ancient and tribal. It seems to infuse the room with energy and the boys pick up the tempo. I begin to sing the lyric in front of me. I know exactly how to reach all the right notes, though I change some of them, improvising as I go, making the music a part of me. And now the lyrics aren’t about Roxana or Farhad or whoever it is that wrote them, they’re about me. About my life.

  When the song dies down with melancholy and sadness, it’s like something important has gone. We are silent for a moment.

  “Wow, I guess Roxana is kind of useless now,” Amir-Reza says.

  I open my mouth to say something but then I see her. Roxana’s standing in the doorway, large mascara streaks down her cheeks from the tears. She turns away and runs out of the room. Farhad is the first to detangle himself from his instrument and runs after her. We return to inaction. I feel sick. I saw the look on her face. I know it all too well.

  I remember another time of my life, no not my life, the one that is trying to take over me. It’s a look she’d seen often before. One she had even come to enjoy seeing. I took away from her the only thing she had left. I took away her music. I made it better. I erased her from it and made it all mine. I searched my consciousness for pleasure, but I found none. I’m not happy to have hurt Roxana. I’m not like the other girl inside me.

  Garnier steps in front of me and I fight the tidal waves of emotions. I try to separate my feelings from hers but it’s not exactly clear what’s hers and what’s mine. Garnier is hers. I know that. She screwed it up somehow but he’s hers. So everything I’m feeling is not actually me, is it?

  “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice makes my heart skip a beat. My heart. Not hers.

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “Roxana had it coming to her.” Amir-Reza brushes his long boy-band bangs out of his eyes. “She’s messed up.”

  “You don’t know anything about Roxana’s problems,
” Siavash says.

  “You mean like her trying to figure out if she should sleep with you or Farhad or anyone else who’ll give her a roof over her head and money for drugs?”

  “You don’t understand what it was like for her at home.”

  From Siavash’s tone, it’s apparent that he knows exactly what it was like. He either knows Roxana very well or he can relate. I look at my band mates – my new friends – and I wonder what I got myself into. Can I really handle that fast-paced party life and keep sane. I’m having a hard enough time staying myself.

  She looked so lost. Still sitting in front of her harp, her eyes even wider than usual, she watched the boys argue about Roxana. I wondered what she was thinking. What she was feeling. She was so much like her but so different too. Sweeter. More innocent. I didn’t think I liked that. What use did I have for innocence? But Nagissa had hurt me, deeper than I’d realized.

  I couldn’t think of this girl in front of me as completely separate from Nagissa either. The more I got to know this girl, the more it seemed she was the same person somehow. As if she’d been reborn and her environment had made her different. I stood stock still. Was this possible? Were Gargoyles reborn after they died? Was I bound to meet Vincent again too? Would it still be Vincent if he was born a new person?

  “Garnier?”

  Her voice was the most different. Quiet. Scared. Nagissa would never have sounded scared. She was too important. I didn’t understand the urge I felt to protect her.

  “Yes?”

  “I didn’t mean to take Roxana’s place. I really loved singing, but I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “I know. Don’t worry. The others will figure it out. Roxana has some problems she needs to work on, but I think she’ll be okay. Maybe you two will be able to work together.”

  The money I’d given her would allow her to turn her life around. Maybe this little scene would also be a wakeup call for her. Everything would be alright and my Nakissa would smile and tease and do all the things that attracted me so much.

  It really was Nakissa I was attracted to. Her innocence was disarming, but her wit and playfulness was what I was starting to love about her. All the things that made her different from Nagissa.

  She stood up and walked up to me. Her pupils were large, even for this low light. She tilted her head and pressed her lips together. “I haven’t seen you since Esfahan. What are you doing here?”

  The inquiring gaze. The strong, commanding tone. This was Nagissa.

  “I came looking for you, actually,” I said quietly.

  “You came back for me?”

  “I need your help with Ramtin.”

  She clenched her fists. “He killed me.”

  My phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket to turn the ringer off. I finally was getting the answers I wanted. But then I saw it was a local number and curiosity got the best of me.

  I swiped my finger across the touch screen to answer the phone but didn’t say anything.

  “Garnier? Is that you?” Aude’s voice sounded on the other end. “Garnier I need your help.”

  “Aude?”

  “I stole Ramtin’s phone, but one of his witches is bound to come find me any minute now. They took me, Garnier. You need to get Guillaume to come. I can’t do it on my own.” Aude may have learned to ask for help from Guillaume, but she still couldn’t stand the fact to be dependent on anyone else.

  “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a nice place. Luxurious. I think it’s a house but I’m not even sure. They won’t tell me anything. The only reason I know I’m in Iran is because of all the research you did before coming here. You were right to come here. Garnier, get the others please?”

  “Yes, of course, but where can we find you?”

  “I don’t know. Oh, I have to go. Tell Guillaume I love him!”

  The call disconnected. When I looked up to Nagissa, it was obvious she’d gone. Nakissa stood with her arms crossed over herself.

  “What’s happening? I’m scared.”

  I looked at her hard. “I’m scared too.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and held her close to me. It wasn’t until she stopped shaking and I stepped away from her that I realized that Amir-Reza and Siavash had long stopped fighting and were staring at us.

  I’m alone. For a moment he held me, but now I’m alone again. It’s not even me he wants. He doesn’t know that I heard what he said when she took over me. But he’s been looking for her. It’s probably the reason he’s even here in Iran. I’m just the convenient body that she’s trying to steal. The convenient body that’s foolishly falling for him. I don’t even know what he is. He’s related to the Jinn, somehow. Yet, I don’t think he’s one of them.

  I’m also dying to know who Aude is and what she means to him. He’s probably a complete player. I’m dealing with enough crap with Ehsan; I don’t need Garnier playing me on top of it. No, what I need is to figure out where things lie between me and my boyfriend (or is that ex-boyfriend?) and see if I can fix it. He was so into me. There should be no reason I can’t fix it. I just need to act cool and casual.

  Farhad comes back and glares at Amir-Reza. “She’s gone. I couldn’t find her. Dude, I can’t believe you said that.”

  “I didn’t know she was there!”

  “We’re not replacing Roxana.” He turns to me. “You’re just helping us out tonight. Understand?”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. I’m not trying to cause any problems. I’m not even sure what I’m doing with this crowd. I’m in over my head and I never asked for any of this. Everyone has a plan for me and no one seems to care what I want. But I want this don’t I? I think I do.

  I look to Garnier for comfort, but he seems to be having an intense conversation on the phone. Probably about Aude, whoever she is.

  “Let’s push through the rest of the playlist and then we can kick back with some beer, okay guys?” Amir-Reza seems to be the peace-keeper of the group.

  Push through it is exactly what we do. It’s like a magical spell has been broken, and though my voice and my playing are perfect still, and I know how to hit all the right notes, there’s something missing that we had in the first song. I don’t know if it’s my resolve to keep that other personality at bay, or my decision to ignore Garnier and make things work with Ehsan, but I feel more grounded now. Also duller.

  Ehsan used to make me feel alive before I got involved with this supernatural stuff. I check my phone, but not only do I have no missed messages from him, I also come to realize it’s getting late. After the Leyli incident, Maman was very uneasy about allowing me to come here in the first place. I need to get home.

  The boys haven’t even left their instruments yet when I excuse myself.

  “Wait.” Garnier walks with me to the door. “I’ll drive you.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re worried about being late, let me drive you.”

  “It’s better if I don’t ride in a car with a boy.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me. “You rode in a car with me for almost two hours and now you’re worried about it? What’s going on?”

  I point my finger to his chest and lower my voice. “Listen, I don’t know what you are or what’s going on. I never believed in Jinn before, but it’s obvious they are involved somehow and I really don’t want to have anything to do with them. I just want my life to be easy like it was before you showed up.”

  “Was it?”

  “What?”

  “Was it easy before?”

  I look for sarcasm but I don’t hear any in his voice and his face is genuinely inquisitive. “I… I guess things got complicated a little before.”

  “When?” He puts his hand on my wrist in such a casual way. Like he’s a girl or we are family or something. He’s by far the first guy to touch me like this, but normally it’s done with defiance. As a statement. Never so casually.

  “Please let me drive you. We can discuss it in
the car.”

  He’s as confused as I am. The only difference is that he’s not afraid of the answers. Maybe I shouldn’t be afraid either.

  “Okay.”

  We excuse ourselves from the others and make our way through the restaurant’s kitchen and out of the back door. I’m alone in an alleyway with a supernatural creature. I should be scared.

  He lets me drive. Ehsan says he’s the man and so he should be the one driving but I didn’t even have to ask Garnier, he suggested it. Even made jokes about how he hates driving in Tehran. It’s cute.

  We got in the car together to talk, but haven’t actually said anything yet. There are so many questions, but where would I begin?

  “Things got complicated with the earthquakes,” I blurt out. It’s one way to start a conversation. And as curious as I am about him, I realize how much I need to just talk about myself. To let out all the nonsense craziness I can’t talk about to anyone else. I tell him about Maman’s accident, and about my increased responsibilities. I tell him about the music I heard from Davood’s store. I tell him about the harp.

  He looks at me carefully then. Of course, the harp is Nagissa’s specialty. I have to remember that’s the only reason he’s here with me. He wants Nagissa to come back. Is he tricking me into letting my guard down? I need to shift the conversation back to him.

  “Who is Aude?” It’s the easier thing to ask. It’s a normal question allowing for a normal answer. Nothing supernatural, just a girl.

  “She’s my brother’s girlfriend. She’s in Iran right now and she’s in trouble.”

  He has a brother? And his brother’s girlfriend is here? Why? “And your brother is where?”

  “I was just talking to him while you were practicing. The family is in Montreal but they’re making arrangements to travel here as soon as possible. We have to find Aude and I’m pretty sure Ramtin has her.”

  I shiver. “I don’t like him.”

  “I know.” He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. I don’t pull away right away. I like his touch.