Mephisto Waltz

by Bridgett Kay Specht

  “Saved from what, exactly?”

  “Hell, of course,” she said.

  “What about those of us who don’t believe that God sends people to hell, because of the way they’ve been born, or who they love?” I said. “Shouldn’t our free will count? People like me, or my friend Alice, shouldn’t be sent away and tortured like that against our will. And people like my friend, James, shouldn’t be made to hate themselves because of who they are.”

  Amber’s eyes grew wide, and she opened her mouth as though to speak, but then shut it again. She stood quickly and gathered her things, instead.

  “Are you leaving?” I asked.

  “Our hour is up. I don’t want to talk about this, anymore.” She ran out the door, slamming it loudly behind her.

  #

  . I wasn’t able to confront her about her behavior, because the next day I had a new tutor, who explained briefly that Amber had decided to quit tutoring. I got through a lot of my work with the new tutor, though. and even more when I was at home alone that evening, so I took a break after dinner to ponder how to figure out what David had done. I couldn’t work out a solution, however, and I quickly degenerated into brooding. I was on my bed, staring at the ceiling and watching as the setting sun cast pink and purple light across the plain white stucco, when the phone rang.

  “Hi, Miranda, remember me?” a familiar voice said when I answered.

  “James! How could I forget you? How did you get my number?”

  “I’ve been sworn to secrecy, but my sources tell me that you were punished on my account, given an exorcism against your will, and fell ill as a result. Is that true?”

  “For the most part, you’re right. It really wasn’t your fault, though, and I’m fine now- better than fine, in fact. I’m home, thanks to Alice. But what about you? What happened after you went home?” I asked.

  “Pretty much what I expected to happen,” he said. “I called my parents before I left, so they weren’t completely taken by surprise when I arrived on their doorstep. They still weren’t happy, though. There was a lot of crying, and a little yelling. I explained to them, though, that I wasn’t rejecting God, but instead trying to understand what he wanted for me before I did anything drastic to myself. They seemed to understand where I was coming from, eventually. They’re letting me stay home, while I look for a job, and I’m going back to school in the fall.”

  “I’m glad they understood. I’d hate to be responsible for causing a rift between you and your parents.”

  “It wouldn’t have been your fault. This was my choice. I’m lucky, though. I was able to contact Julian. He – sorry, she- wants to be called Julia now, and I’m still getting used to that- and her parents threw her out of the house.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked, careful to use the correct pronoun.

  “Yes, she’s living with her cousin, for the moment. She’s trying to find work, and wants to get her GED. She thinks it will be difficult to finish school under a new gender, and living on her own. Oh, and she wants to know how you are. Can I give her your number?”

  “Of course you can. I would love to hear from her.”

  “It’s so strange; even her voice is different now. But she’s still the same person. She seems a lot happier now, even with all the trouble she’s facing.”

  “I’m glad,” I said. “You sound happier, too. I wish I knew how Alice was. I’m worried about her.”

  James, in his usual, diplomatic way, steered the conversation toward happier topics, and soon I’d almost forgotten my previous mood.

  #

  The next morning, I resumed my piano lessons with Mr. Boscov. I had been afraid that my playing would be poor, due to my long absence, but I had actually improved, thanks to the long hours I’d sat at the calefactory piano. When I looked at Mr. Boscov, he was listening, eyes shut, the way Clara had on that early fall morning so long ago.

  “Soft music on a grey, rainy morning- there is nothing I like so well. Your playing is very different now, Miranda. You have more confidence, it seems.”

  “I’m not intimidated by you any more, I guess,” I said.

  “I’m not intimidating; I’m simply unusual. Sometimes, people confuse the two. I daresay you won’t make that mistake, again.”

  “She shouldn’t. She’s unusual, herself,” I heard someone behind me say.

  “Alice!” I stood and went to her. “You’re free.”

  Alice had been sitting behind me as I played, looking much more relaxed, in her artfully torn jeans and loose band t-shirt, than I’d ever seen her. She stood when I did, and put an arm around me.

  “You always seem to attract an audience,” Mr. Boscov said good-naturedly.

  “Well, she sounds utterly amazing, on a decent piano,” Alice admitted.

  “Our time is up, anyway, so I’ll leave you two to talk,” Mr. Boscov said. “I will see you Wednesday, Miranda. Practice your new exercises for then.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  He took his music, nodded cordially to us, and left us together.

  “So, did you run away, after all?” I asked Alice after he’d gone.

  “No, though I might have, once the weather got warmer,” she said. “Actually, I was kicked out, the day after you left. Grace told Dr. Caleb that you and I were lovers, and I decided not to correct her.”

  “I’m surprised that you didn’t retaliate by telling about her relationship with Julian- I mean Julia.”

  Alice smiled slowly, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I considered that, but Grace wanted to stay, and I decided that the worst punishment I could devise would be to let her have her wish.”

  Mother came in from the kitchen, then. “I’m going to run a few errands, now. Help yourselves to whatever you’d like from the fridge. And, Alice, I’m so glad that you’ll be staying.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Rothschild,” Alice replied.

  “Wait, you’re staying here, in San Avlia?” I asked when Mother had gone.

  “Well, in Corpus Christi, actually, with my dad. When he found out what had been happening at the abbey, he told step-shrew that I was coming home right away, end of story. She’d wanted to send me to another reparative therapist. I’ve never seen him stand up to her, before, but he told her that he wasn’t spending any more money on fake therapists, and that I was welcome in his home, no matter what. It was surprising. He may care for me a little bit, after all.”

  “I’m so glad,” I said.

  “Anyway, now that I’m here, I wanted to come see you in person, to surprise you. James didn’t tell you I was back, did he? I called him before, and gave him your number –your mother gave it to me before you left the abbey-but I made him swear not to tell you, so he wouldn’t ruin the surprise. He sucks at keeping secrets, though.”

  “He was very discreet,” I assured her. “I was glad to hear from him, and find out that things had worked out for him. His call cheered me quite a bit.”

  “Did you need cheering?” she asked. “You seem well again, and I thought you would be happy to be home.”

  “Clara and I… well, you were right, after all. We didn’t get back together. Actually, something strange is happening to her, but I can’t figure out what.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Well, I’m somewhat glad, but I’m sorry that you’ve been hurt.”

  “You’re glad?” I said.

  Alice shook her head and stood quickly. “I’m sorry I said anything. I can see that you’re still upset over losing Clara.”

  “Alice-“

  “No, I said too much. Please, forget it. I have to go; my Dad wants us to begin ‘family bonding,’ this afternoon, so we have to go to the aquarium together. If I’m late, the evil stepmother will attempt to destroy me. I will see you again, won’t I?”

  “Soon,” I promised.

  Chapter 17

  Reunion

  The Lovers

  I walked Alice outside, and watched her drive away into the grey mist. I was about to go back in
side, when I saw a familiar electric blue car approach. Summer pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. Her red hair was wild and frizzy from the humidity.

  “Hi, Miranda,” she said. “Chad is busy with some stupid online game that he’s currently addicted to, so we can have some girl time.”

  “That sounds nice,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I’m tired of watching movies that are nothing but a series of explosions. I want to watch a chick-flick. Plus, I need to fill you in; you’ve missed out on a lot of gossip while you were away,” she said as we walked up the driveway toward the house.

  “Hey, Miranda, what’s on your car?” she asked, turning her head distractedly.

  I followed her gaze, and saw a white envelope, which was getting soggy in the drizzle, placed on the windshield of my car. I walked over and took the envelope, and saw, written on the front, the words, “from Laurel.”

  “Who’s Laurel?” Summer said.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied, though I thought of Alice, who’d left only a moment before. I couldn’t see, though, why she would leave me a note with her ex-girlfriend’s name on the front.

  “Well, open it inside. I want to get out of this awful drizzle,” Summer replied.

  I agreed, and we went into the warm kitchen, and settled down at the table with hot drinks before I opened the envelope. Inside, I found a card, drawn in a familiar baroque style with a couple standing in a pool of water, embracing passionately. Above them, written in gold letters, was “The Lovers.” I turned the card over, and above the pale white and gold pattern, someone had written in black marker, “don’t give up.”

  “Does this look familiar to you?” I asked, tossing the card across the table.

  “This is from Clara’s deck,” Summer said. “Do you think it’s from her? Is she trying to tell you not to give up on her?”

  “I wish that were the case, but the envelope says, ‘from Laurel.’ I don’t know if it’s the same person, but the girl who just left here, my friend, Alice, once dated a girl named Laurel.”

  “Do you think that Alice left it, then?” Summer asked.

  “No, that’s impossible. She didn’t know about the tarot card incident. She was living in Houston when it happened. I never told her about it, even though it’s the sort of story she and James would have loved.”

  “We’re missing some information,” Summer said. “Laurel must be someone who knows about both the tarot card incident, and Alice.”

  I closed my eyes and thought. “Alice said that she met Laurel at her father’s house, and he lives in Corpus Christi. Laurel could be someone we know here.”

  “You and Alice could know a lot of the same people. Didn’t you ever talk about that, when you were together?”

  “No. Alice was very guarded about her past. To be honest, I was very guarded, too. When you’re in a place like the abbey, you learn not to reveal too much, even to people you consider friends.”

  “What a fun place!” Summer said sarcastically.

  “Yes, it was truly a caring environment.” I ran my hands through my hair and sighed in frustration. “I feel like I’m missing some important piece of the puzzle. The person who left this note seems to have an interest in my relationship with Clara, knows about the tarot incident in great detail, enough to obtain an identical deck, and either knows Alice, or by co-incidence has the name Laurel. Think, Summer. You probably know everyone in this town and half of Corpus Christi. Do you know anyone named Laurel, even at the public schools?”

  “I know plenty of Lauries, Laurens, and even a Laura or two, but I don’t know a single Laurel,” Summer said confidently.

  I groaned and put my head on the table.

  “Miranda, don’t worry about it. Someone wants to encourage you to win Clara back, and deliver her from David’s evil clutches, so this is a good thing, right? If this Laurel person wants to show herself, she will. In the meantime, let’s not strain ourselves. I’ll keep trying to discover what David’s done to Clara. I have a feeling that once I do, everything will be alright, again.”

  #

  Summer and I stayed inside and watched a movie. Then, after she went home, I waded through as much schoolwork as I could before dinner. As I worked, the drizzle stopped, but the sun didn’t come out. The sky grew darker, and the air grew heavy. Dark clouds hung outside my window, ominously low.

  After dinner, I went to the piano, and dutifully practiced the advanced exercises Mr. Boscov had given me. As I sat and played, distant peals of thunder rumbled, and an occasional lightning strike flashed through the windows. I put away my scales, and then took out one of my favorite nocturnes. As I played, the storm grew, and the skies opened up. I let the gloom of the storm and the gloom of the music envelop me. I surrendered to the sensation that some unseen power, as real as the electricity which danced in the clouds, was moving in the air around me.

  I was so lost in the music of the storm, and the need to translate it to the piano, that I didn’t hear the doorbell ring, and my Mother had to put her hand on my shoulder to get my attention.

  “Someone is here to see you,” she said gently.

  I turned away from the music and saw Clara, standing in the kitchen doorway. She was dressed in her blue sweater, but it was completely soaked, and clung to her skin. Her hair was wet, and her bangs were plastered across her forehead. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, shivering.

  “Clara, you didn’t walk all the way here in the rain, did you?” I asked, astounded.

  “It wasn’t raining when I started,” she said. “When the rain began, I had come too far to turn back. I need to talk to you, Miranda.”

  “You’ll catch your death in those wet things,” Mother said. “I’ll find you something warm and dry to wear. Miranda, take her into the kitchen, and make some hot tea.”

  Mother left, and returned with a towel and one of my warmest sweaters while I put the kettle on. Clara disappeared into the bathroom, and returned in the dry clothes, her hair toweled dry.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly as I handed her a cup of jasmine tea. She sat at the table and looked into the cup for a moment, breathing in the fragrant vapors, and then looked up at me with wide, frightened eyes.

  “I know I don’t have the right to ask for your help now, after the things I’ve said to you, and the way I’ve treated you, but my situation is getting more and more out of control, and you’re the only person I can trust to be discreet. Of course, David is suspicious of you, already, because of our former relationship, but he’s on some sort of family outing tonight, so he won’t know I’ve come here.”

  “What is he doing to you?” I asked.

  “First, I need you to promise that, whatever I say, you won’t tell anyone, or confront David about it.”

  “But Clara, if he’s hurting you-“

  “Even more people will be hurt if this gets out. Please, promise.”

  I couldn’t deny her wish when she sat across from me, looking so vulnerable and unhappy. I put my own cup down and sat closer to her, putting my hand over hers.

  “I promise; if you don’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t.”

  “Thank you,” she said shakily, pulling her hand away and placing it on her lap. “I’ve done some lousy things in the past few weeks, but none compare to the way I’ve acted toward you since you’ve returned. I know I can’t ask you to forgive me, but I still want to apologize. I feel like a louse.”

  “Well, stop it,” I demanded. “I’ve seen enough guilt to last a lifetime, and it serves no purpose. Change what you can, accept what you can’t, make amends if you must, and move on.”

  “You’re right, as usual,” she said. “But, Miranda, I’m afraid that I can’t change anything, and I can’t make amends. Maybe that’s part of why I’m telling you this; to try and make up for how I’ve treated you.”

  “You were never obligated to me in any way, but I’ve been worried about you. You’ve seemed unhappy. What
happened?”

  “This all started shortly before Christmas. Did you receive the letters Summer and I sent you?”

  “Yes, they were a wonderful surprise. You can’t imagine how much the letters, and the gift, meant to me.”

  Clara smiled briefly, then her expression darkened. “Summer, I think, told you about the Christmas party, and the fight that Chad had with David.”

  “She said that Chad found David in a compromising situation with Giselle.”

  “The situation was more than compromising, and David apparently took photos.”

  “Oh, my god,” I gasped. “Is Giselle okay? Did David put the photos online?”

  “No, David wanted to use the photos to blackmail me, and his plan worked better than he’d dreamed. You see, if he’d taken the pictures, and leaked them, then Giselle simply could have said that he was the one that took them, and everyone would have believed her, because they had been dating. Unfortunately, when Chad accidentally walked in on them, he got in a photo with Giselle, and it doesn’t look good. It makes the story that David told after the fight, that he’d caught Giselle cheating on him with Chad, seem true.

  “After Christmas, David contacted me, and said that if I didn’t do what he said, that he would leak the pictures, and that Giselle and Chad would both be ruined. I wanted to tell someone, but the evidence is against Chad, and no one will believe Giselle, because her reputation is so bad. She would just seem like a vengeful ex-girlfriend. David said that if I told anyone that David took the pictures, he would leak them immediately, in such a way that he couldn’t be implicated.”

  She gripped the teacup tightly with both hands. “At first, he only asked a few small things of me, to test me, I suppose. He picked out my clothes, and told me how I should fix my hair. Then, he demanded that I quit the art club, and stop speaking to my friends, so he could be certain of my silence. Soon, he was controlling every aspect of my life. He’s kept a respectful distance from me, so far, but this morning, things were different.”