28
Magic or Madness?
Tom sat down next to Jay-Tee, his eyes still on Danny.
“So, um,” he said. “This is a surprise.”
“Isn’t it?” Jay-Tee said, beaming. Tom felt a tiny pang. How come he didn’t make her as happy as her brother did? She hadn’t grinned like that when he’d showed her the blue silk shell.
“When did you get here?” Tom asked.
“Just now.”
“Huh. Long flight, eh?”
“Yup,” Danny said.
The doorbell rang, and Tom almost jumped up to get it. Anything to get away from Danny-who’d-gotten-Reason-pregnant. But he paused. If he answered the door, would it look like he lived here, like he’d spent the night with Jay-Tee just yesterday? Even though they’d just kissed (a lot), how would Danny feel about that?
Jay-Tee stood up. “I guess I’ll get that.” She darted off. He wasn’t thrilled at being left alone with Mr Thousands-of-girlfriends, Mr Breaker-of-hearts, whose sister was Tom’s secret girlfriend. For one thing, Danny was a lot bigger than Tom remembered.
“You going to stay long?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Right,” Tom said, because he didn’t think it would be a great idea to tell Danny that he looked really tired and that maybe now was a good time for a nap. Tom had come over to hang with Jay-Tee and get back to where they’d left off. Not likely with her insanely huge big brother hanging around.
Danny didn’t say anything. He wasn’t much of a talker. Tom wondered what Reason saw in him, other than him being tall, kind of okay looking, and wearing decent clothes. His shirt was made up of parts of three different shirts that had been sectioned and then sewn together with the seams showing. A Frankenstein shirt. Pretty cool, for a guy obsessed with sport.
“So are you cured too?” Danny asked.
“Am I what?” Tom wondered what on earth he was talking about.
“Did Reason cure you of magic?” Danny asked, as if he were asking if Tom had had a wart removed or something.
Tom’s jaw dropped open. “No way! Why would she do that? I’m not dying!”
“But you will, though, won’t you? Reason said you people don’t live very long.”
You people! What did he mean, “you people”? “Esmeralda’s forty-five. That’s heaps long.”
“Isn’t she about to die? Forty-five’s not that old.”
“Esmeralda is not about to die.”
“Whatever.” Danny shrugged in the exact same way that Jay-Tee did. “But Reason seemed to think you’d be lucky if you made it into your thirties.”
“Reason said that?” Tom swallowed. “That’s still heaps of time, but. And, you know, maybe then she can cure me. Right before I’m about to die.”
“I guess.”
“That’s if Reason’s still around to cure you,” Jay-Tee said, coming in and sitting back down beside Tom. He reached under the table to briefly squeeze her knee. He was pretty sure Danny didn’t notice.
“Who was it?” Tom asked.
“Mormons.”
“You got those here too?” Danny said. “Huh.”
“Reason might not be around that long,” Jay-Tee continued.
“Of course she will be,” Tom said. “She’s got the super-duper, live-forever magic.”
“Sure, but Esmeralda said she’s changing so fast she might not be with us much longer.”
“Huh? But you just said—”
“Not dying, Tom, changing. Becoming less human. Like the weird old guy. Remember him? That’s where her magic came from.”
Actually, Tom didn’t remember Raul Cansino. He’d been on the floor unconscious when the old guy had made his little visit to Sydney.
“He was freaky as hell, and now Reason’s turning freaky too. Who knows what she’ll be by the time we see her again—forget about fifteen years from now when your magic’s almost gone.”
“Twenty-five years from now!”
“Does that matter?” Danny asked. “I think my sister’s saying that Reason won’t be around to cure you when you’re thirty and dying.”
Jay-Tee nodded. “If she comes back, this may be it.”
“Wait?” Tom said. “If Reason comes back?!”
“She probably will,” Jay-Tee said. “I mean, she’ll want to say goodbye, won’t she? And then she’ll fix you. You won’t have to worry about how much magic you use. You won’t have to die. Not having magic, Tom, it’s not so bad.”
“You’re not serious!” Tom didn’t believe she really wanted this. “Turn my magic off?” No magic? Why would anyone want to live without it?
“I like my magic, Jay-Tee. It makes me happy. Plus I’m not dying.”
“Not now you’re not. But you will be.”
He didn’t know what to say. It meant a lot to Jay-Tee for him to be “saved,” but he didn’t want that. Not the religious kind of saved, and definitely not the losing-all-his-magic kind. No making clothes? No dreaming up new designs and making them real? No going through the door?
“She’s right, man, what about your future? You might think making it to thirty or forty is a big deal. But it isn’t. What if you have kids? You’ll be dead before they’re hardly grown up. That’s what happened to us, you know. We’re orphans now. I don’t even remember our mom.”
Tom stared at Danny. It was the most he’d ever heard him say. He couldn’t help thinking the advice about having a family was a bit much, what with Danny just having gotten a fifteen-year-old girl pregnant. But he could hardly say that after Danny had mentioned the orphan thing. Danny looked completely knackered. Why didn’t he bugger off to bed?
“Tom?” Jay-Tee said. “I know it doesn’t seem that way now. There’s all the good magic stuff, like dancing and running and—” She broke off, her eyes red. “But it’s not that bad. You get to live…”
Tom shook his head. He could see perfectly well that Jay-Tee was heartbroken that her magic was gone. Why would she want him to suffer too? It didn’t make any sense. “I’ll get to live with magic.”
“There’s your mom too. You want her saved, don’t you?”
“Of course.” They’d tried so hard, Tom and his da, to explain that if she just used a little bit of magic, she’d stop being crazy. But she hadn’t understood. She kept screaming at them that they were mad. When he’d tried to convince her by demonstrating his own magic, she’d gone completely off. The staff at Kalder Park had to restrain her, strengthen her meds. And would taking her magic away really make her sane? She’d been mad for so long…
“You’re lucky you’ve got parents who are still alive,” Danny said.
“You already said that,” Tom said. “I get it.”
Danny gave him a look that would have frozen him on the spot if it’d come from Jay-Tee. “I don’t think you do,” he said. “You should be thinking about them, not yourself. How do you think they’ll feel knowing you’re going to die before they do? That’s harsh.”
“I dunno,” Tom said. “It’s about as harsh as finding out that your fifteen-year-old daughter’s up the duff to some random bloke she only just met. I wonder how Reason’s mum will feel about that? I mean, aren’t you like ten years older than her?”
“Tom!” Jay-Tee said. “He’s only eighteen!”
Danny flushed and looked down. “You got me.”
“But we’re talking about you, Tom, and your mom. Danny’s right. If Reason saves her, how’s she going to feel knowing you’re not saved?”
Tom decided not to argue about whether or not turning someone’s magic off meant that they were saved. “I want my mum back. But that doesn’t mean I have to stop being myself. I’ve been pretty sparing. I reckon I’ll make it to forty.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’ve used way more magic than Mere had when she was your age. I bet she never broke anyone’s fingers with magic.”
“You did that?” Danny said, turning to stare at him. “That’s brutal.”
“Yo
u had to be there,” Tom mumbled. “Look, Jay-Tee, until I met Esmeralda I’d barely used any magic at all. So little by little, I was starting to go mad. Like my mum. Think of all the amazing clothes I can make by the time I’m forty. Think what a career I’ll have by then. There’ll be movie stars wearing my clothes—”
“Doubt it,” Jay-Tee said. “Most of them have pukey taste.”
Danny laughed and Tom had an urge to smack him. But Danny was a lot bigger than him. He wondered again how Danny was going to react when he found out about him and Jay-Tee. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned Reason being preggers.
“You know what I mean. All I’ve ever wanted is to design beautiful clothes. You’re telling me to give that up. Danny, you’re a really good basketballer, right? Would you give it up if it meant you’d live longer?”
“Basketball player,” Danny said. “Not basketballer.”
“That’s not a fair question,” Jay-Tee said. “Playing basketball doesn’t mean he’s going to live a shorter life.”
“Actually,” Danny said, “my high school coach told us once that a pro ball career takes years off your life.”
“See? And have you stopped wanting to be a basketballer?”
“Basketball player,” Danny said. “And no, but it’s not the same. Lots of players live into their seventies and eighties. It’s not a sure thing. You’re guaranteed to die before you see forty.”
“But you wouldn’t give it up. See, Jay-Tee? You wouldn’t ask him to either, would you? But you’re asking me to give up something just as important to me. Without my magic, without the clothes I make—”
“You’ll still be able to do that. Magic isn’t why you do that. You are why you can do that. I can still run fast.”
“And you can still dance, but it’s not the same, is it?” Tom said.
She winced.
“Magic is how I see the shapes, how I pull the threads together, how the ideas form, become real. My magic gets into every strand of fabric. Without it I might still be able to design clothes, but there’ll be nothing special about them. They’ll be completely av. I’ll be completely av.”
“Av?”
“Average. Ordinary. Not much chop. Nothing special. Lame.”
“No, you won’t, Tom. Magic’s not the only thing that’s cool about y—”
“How do you know? You don’t know me any way but with magic. Magic’s who I am. Without it I won’t be anything. I might as well be dead.”
“I don’t have magic anymore! Is that what you think I am?” she shouted, her face turning red. “Nothing? Do you think I should be dead?”
“Hey, Julieta,” Danny said. “That could well be just what he means.”
Tom blanched. So did Jay-Tee.
Of course, it wasn’t what he meant. He hadn’t known Jay-Tee very long, but already he couldn’t imagine life without her. How could she even think he wanted her dead?
“No!” he spluttered. “Of course not, Jay-Tee. You don’t need magic, because you’re already special. You’re just as amazing without it as you were with. I’m not. I need my magic.”
“You just think you do, Tom. You don’t need magic. No one does. You can live without. I am.” Her voice wobbled and she blinked rapidly.
Tom didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.
Danny was looking at him; then he turned to Jay-Tee. “You two have hooked up, haven’t you?”
29
Butterflies
Sarafina lay mostly on the path, her left arm stretched across into the ferns, the tips of her fingers in the small stream. A fern frond fallen into the water bumped against each of her knuckles, agitated by the tiny bumps and eddies, before floating past.
I closed my eyes, and calmness returned. My mother’s lights were flickering out. It would be so easy to remain there, leave the world behind, leave Sarafina to die. I didn’t belong with her or anyone else. I belonged in Cansino space.
I opened them again to brilliant light, the sun high, the shadows cutting. The ferns glowed green; the colour was reflected in my mother’s skin as she grew paler. Next to her head a butterfly rested on a rock, its white wings vivid against the grey of the rock. But its body was as still as Sarafina’s.
One of the women who had offered me tea ran down the path towards us. She cried out, leaning over my mother, trying to make her breathe. The woman’s black hair was short and cut close to her scalp. She blew air into my mother’s lips, thumped at her chest.
I could let the woman continue, even though it was futile. I could let Sarafina go. More of her winked out in the corners of my eyes.
Then a shudder went through me, a sudden horror at myself, at what I was becoming. Sarafina was my mother, no matter how many lies she’d told me.
I pushed the woman away. She cried out, trying to get her hands back in position over my mother’s rib cage. I reached to the magic inside her, froze her with it, then closed my eyes, stretching out my fingers, thinning and sharpening them, cutting my way inside my mother.
I began to patch Sarafina’s crumbling sequence, but it had frayed too much, had already lost so many numbers. And besides, that was how I’d turned Jay-Tee’s magic off. Sarafina didn’t want that; she wanted to be like me.
I pulled away from her, returned to shadow, light, and the movement of air. The woman knelt there, glaring at me, unable to move.
“You were in the way,” I told her, though she probably didn’t speak English. “I’m saving her.”
For as long as I could remember, Sarafina had hated magic so much she’d denied it existed. But somehow Jason Blake had made her love it. How could I give her what she wanted?
Then I remembered Raul Cansino’s golems. Before changing me completely, he’d given me pieces of himself.
But Sarafina was so faded now that I could barely see her.
I stared at my hands, sharpened my vision to see beyond the skin and meat and bone; I concentrated on pulling magic out of myself. Acid moved inside me, burning, moving up towards my skin. Stuff bubbled out beneath my fingernails, scorching.
It was the same colour as my new skin. I rubbed it onto Sarafina’s feet, watched it disappear inside her. Blood dripped slowly from my fingers until it stopped, dried up, vanished, as if the skin had never been broken.
For a long moment, Sarafina didn’t move.
And then she gasped, coughed, drew in air, expelled it.
I set the woman free. She glared at me, said something I didn’t understand.
Sarafina shivered. Her eyes opened. “Reason,” she said. “Am I still me?”
“Yes,” I said.
She shivered again, the movement travelling from her shoulders down to her toes.
“You’re okay,” I told her, though I didn’t know if that was true.
The woman looked at us. She said something to Sarafina, a question, I thought.
I shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” I held Sarafina’s hand; the skin was covered with tiny dots of blood. “How do you feel?”
“It stopped hurting,” Sarafina said. “I’ve stopped being so thin.”
The woman bowed her head, stood up, and backed away. Three other women watched from the edge of the garden. They all wore the same clothes: short-sleeved blouses, long skirts. One held a jug of water, the others towels.
Had they never seen anything this strange before? This was Jason Blake’s house, after all.
The short-haired woman took the jug of water and a wooden cup from the others and placed them beside my mother, then helped her sit up. She poured water for her, held it to her mouth. Sarafina sipped, then gulped.
“Thirsty,” she said, as the woman poured her more and she drank it all. She smiled at me, took the cup from the woman’s hands, and poured her own water. “It tastes almost sweet.”
Colour was coming back into her skin. She looked so healthy that I shivered again, remembering that I’d almost let her die.
She drained the cup and set it on the floor,
crossing her legs and wiping her hands on her skirt. She nodded at the woman, who smiled and backed away, disappearing with the others into the house.
“They’re very kind,” Sarafina said softly, turning her hand palm up. Another one of her enormous butterflies appeared, red and green and gold. Its wings trembled. She turned to look at me. “Am I like you now?”
I didn’t think so. I didn’t need water; I didn’t feel thirst. She was like Esmeralda and Jason Blake, with only a small piece of Cansino magic.
But she was alive, and sane again.
I had my mother back.
30
Greed
Sarafina stood up and took several steps away from me. The sun on her face was so bright it almost whited out her features.
I stared at my hand. It still tingled where I’d pushed the magic out. I’d done it: I’d made my mother whole.
The whole world was ours now, like we’d always planned. And there was no need for money or passports: We had everything we needed woven into every cell of our bodies.
This was the real gift Raul Cansino had given me.
“I don’t think it’s enough,” Sarafina said.
I looked up at her. Her eyebrows pushed together and the corners of her mouth tightened, giving her eyes a fierce look as she stared at me. I’d never seen her look that way before, even when she’d been crazy.
“What do you mean?”
She took another step away from me and held her arms out, palms facing up, fingers splayed, pointing towards me. The air between us shimmered. My skin prickled.
“What are you doing?”
Sarafina said nothing, but her stare remained intent on me.
Then I felt something moving through me, a thin stream of acid, burning out of my skin, across the air, and into Sarafina. I could see it too: motes lit golden in the sunlight, as if they were particles of sun.
“What are you doing?” I asked again.
“I’m making it better.”
“Better?” I took a step closer to her; she took a step away. Her hands glowed, but not as brightly as mine. “Making what better?”
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