Other Words for Smoke
Page 21
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1A Magdalene Laundry is not a building. It is a threat.
2It is happening again.
3Bobby was not his name. That was the name Rita and Audrey decided on for him. Bobby Dear, the cat that came in the window. Neither girl knew what he was called before.
4Besides. It reminded Rita of Audrey. With every single lit cigarette, Rita thought of her. That made it at least ten times a day.
5Magic is such a big word. Almost as big as “love.” Almost as big as “afraid.”
6Sweet James had never really liked Rita. There had been someone else he’d preferred.
7Audrey had never seen neon like this. Audrey had never felt like this. So frightened, but so elated. Sweet James had found that very pleasing.
8Wicklow lay beyond the peaks. That was all. The unknown was nearer by than that.
9This is not, exactly, a lie. It is what he told Rita at first, too.
10She did know, but Rita knew a lot of things she didn’t say.
11When Audrey cut off all her hair, her mother began to get suspicious. The nuns in their gray habits came to visit her house some mornings. Audrey should have taken that as a warning. Getting caught doesn’t always look like confrontation. Getting caught can be a gradual snare: all the doors closing until the room is a prison.
12There was never a promise of return.
13There was never any forgetting.
14Rita said this once, but not to Bobby.
15It is happening again.
16Audrey had once asked him if he had ever been in any other houses. He had laughed at her. Said, what do you think?
17Brid first, in the corridor. A heart attack. They found her beside a radiator upstairs.
18Jim, a week later. In the bath. A heart attack, too.
19Her pupils go from circle to slit to triangle to slit to circle again.
20This trouble did not go unnoticed elsewhere.
21Just like a magic trick, Audrey told the bartender, that’s what it felt like when Bevan had shown up holding Rita’s mug. Audrey had been waiting forever for a sign that Rita was still out there, but she’d heard nothing since. The bartender told her she wasn’t listening hard enough.
22“Listen harder,” the bartender told Audrey. And Audrey listened, and listened, her hand wrapped hard around her glass. Somewhere past the soft, regular chirping of the bird in the cage by the piano, she swore she heard a crash. A distant sound of something breaking.
23In Loving Memory of Deborah Hurley and Baby, By the Grace of God Eternal.
24It hadn’t always had a key.
25Not the word, exactly, Audrey would use for it. Rita sick, maybe? Was that how to put it? The bartender told her, “Lovesick, that might be the word you’re looking for.”
26“I don’t like it. Sweet James didn’t show up this week and I’m worried about her, about the house—I think I should go back there.” The bartender poured Audrey another drink, and she downed it in one, for courage.
27“Deborah,” she whispered, she prayed, she called. “Deborah.”
28Almost.
29Almost.
30The Tower. Ablaze, but not with fire, with energy, gold and red and bad. Atop it, a beast, roosting. A titanic owl with a beak made of diamond. This feathered thing, far hungrier than any dragon, glowering down at the vast plain of his realm. On the path, a mighty lion, monochrome, wearing thick reins of gold, a heavy chain on his neck. On his back, his master. A girl with his chains clenched in her fists. A girl with bright blond hair and triangles for pupils, a girl with eyes on her hands. A girl who eats love and fear. She is alone and ready. The door to the tower is open.