by Mary Gray
When I round the back corner of the house, I pause. There’s this square platform off the back of Ramus’s house, with a red curtain veiling the front of a giant box made of rock and brick. It looks more like a holding cell for something huge, like an elephant or a giraffe. But Teo’s vision isn’t waning—he’s prepared us a stage. I almost wish I were Thisbe and got to recite some of the lines, but this isn’t Persephone’s story.
A string of lights dots the platform, casting a slightly brighter glow than the lantern on the front porch; besides that, the rest of the yard is cast in shadows, so I situate myself at the front of the group to have the best look.
Standing at the front of the platform, Teo cups Bee’s elbow, and Ramus hunches awkwardly on the side with his hands in his pockets. I’d like to tell him to go stand next to Bee, but I’m sure Teo will handle this, so I don’t say a thing.
As soon as the last of the couples round the back of the house, with Jonas bringing up the rear carrying that stun gun again, Teo rips the curtain to the side to reveal a wall.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Teo says, “this is not your normal stage. Remember how Pyramus and Thisbe conversed through a crack?”
I step closer to see what he means. And he’s right—there’s a crack in the wall! Just like in the tale!
Releasing Bee’s arm, Teo moves to Ramus and grips his arm. “Sir,” Teo says, “converse through the crack.” I wish I had a copy of the play so I could show Ramus what Teo means.
Ramus looks to Teo, eyebrows shooting up, so Teo elbows Ramus in the side. “Somewhat difficult when no one’s on the other side,” Teo says, laughing. I feel I should laugh, too, but his laughter is out of place. Someone kicks a rock or something from the corner of my eye, and I know what Teo needs to do—feed Ramus a line.
But Teo’s frowning. “As the story goes,” he says, “you were forbidden to love the girl you wanted.” He gestures to Bee, who looks like she’s trying to smile, but she only succeeds in hitching her upper lip. “Thisbe was your family’s enemy,” Teo says. “That’s why you conversed through the wall.”
Ramus and Bee stand there, like someone’s snatched their voice boxes and their power to act. Maybe it would go down smoother if we’d all read the story first.
“Need I spell it out for you?” Teo throws up his hands. “Get to the other side!” he shouts, taking a step toward Bee.
Bee jolts the moment Teo rounds on her, and my own stomach lurches, too. Bee didn’t understand that’s what he meant; I barely understood it, myself. But Bee’s staring at Teo, eyes open wide, and then she’s looking at me, and I smile at her a little, wishing I could take her by the hand and help her out.
But Bee squares her shoulders and fixes her eyes on Teo. “You want me to crawl over the rock.” She doesn’t look down at her dress, but anyone looking at her could see her outfit’s impossible for climbing a wall.
“I’ve asked harder things before,” Teo says. I hate how heartless that makes him seem. He should be explaining why it fits with the tale.
Someone whoops, and when a bunch of dreadlocks bounces in the dark, I know it’s Abe pointing at the wall. “There are pegs!” Abe calls, and when I look closer, I see what he means. They’re two or three feet apart, wooden and round.
As if that’s what she needed to know, Bee reaches up and re-twists her hair so that it stretches tight against her head. “How many other girls get the chance to scale a wall in a dress?” she says, grinning at me, and I love Bee so much right now that I grin back. As soon as I saw the pegs, I knew she’d be up for this.
Kicking off her ballet flats, Bee steps up to the first peg, secures her foot, and grabs the next. Her hands and legs move fluidly, like it’s not difficult at all climbing in a dress, and I can’t help wondering if her dancing has helped her be coordinated like this. At the top, Bee turns around and flashes that grin again.
“Thanks for the pointer, Abe,” Bee says.
Everyone cheers. Abe, on the periphery, pumps a fist in the air. Bee, one leg on either side of the wall, sways side to side, and Romeo claps Abe on the back. But Marc’s looking through the trees again. Why’s he always so distracted? It’s like he has ADD. He’s missing all the fun.
The Doublemint twins are clapping now, and Eloise keeps letting out these random shrieks while swishing her long black skirt. I could be wrong, but I doubt Teo’s pleased with the raucous noise they’re making. Maybe I can help calm them down.
Sure enough, Teo’s folding his arms across his chest, frowning. I’m sorry they’re clowning around like this, I wish I could say. Maybe it’s hard for them to know how to honor the tale.
I need to do something. If I just stand by, Teo might lash out at them again and further alienate himself from the group. If I help him tell the story, then I could bridge the gap between his knowledge and them.
I hold my hand out to him, locking my eyes on his. He must read my desire to help, because he offers me a faint smile, like he’s embarrassed that I’ve seen him struggling with the group. So I smile back, let him know I know this isn’t an easy thing to do. His lips twitch minutely, like there’s something he wants to say, but he drops his gaze to the ground.
My heart warms. I know how he’s feeling—it’s an emotion I’ve felt many times myself. When you’re drowning and you don’t know if you’ll survive, you need someone to toss you a life preserver so you can continue to float. It’s an honor to do something like that for him, because he has always, always done that for me.
Clearing my throat loudly, I open up my arm toward Bee, who’s still dangling her feet over the edge of the wall.
“Thisbe,” I say, pointing to my redheaded friend perched high on the wall, “would go to her room and converse with her lover through a crack.” I try glaring at Bee, but when she doesn’t get what I’m trying to say, I jerk my head toward the other side of the wall.
This works, for she’s sighing, “All right, all right,” and I watch as she swings her pale leg over the wall. Thank you, Bee.
I wait, and maybe two or three seconds later there’s an “Oof!” That probably means she’s landed—is she okay?—but then she calls out, “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
Smiling, I move on with the tale. “So the lovers conversed through the wall,” I repeat what Teo said moments before. Only Ramus has somehow lumbered away from the stage, so I gesture toward where he should be standing.
“Ramus,” I say, trying to be patient, “stand over there.”
Like he has the next ten years to act, Ramus strolls impossibly slowly over to the crack in the wall, hands in his pockets.
Seriously? I don’t have time for this. So I move on and say, “And what did Pyramus say?” Crap. How did that line start? Nothing’s coming. Crap, oh crap, oh crap. Maybe he’ll improvise or something.
But Ramus shrugs, and I could shake him by the shoulders now. He opens his mouth. I tense, waiting to hear the eloquence rolling from his tongue, when he offers, “Hey.”
I groan. Really? That’s the best he can do? I try to make a joke out of it. “Pyramus was most eloquent.”
Teo laughs, slow and happy, and all I need is his warmth beside me. It may take some time, but together, we can teach the others to love the stories as much as we do.
Smiling, Teo continues for me, “Of course, Pyramus didn’t speak alone. His Thisbe talked right back.”
Everything falls silent when at last Bee answers, “Hey, Ramus, lover. I saw you checking out my legs!”
Eloise slaps a hand over her mouth again, and the frizzy-haired Doublemint twin, Gwen, hunches over, holding her gut. Even Teo and I chuckle together. But Teo, recovering himself quickly, says over the laughter, “But the couple soon discovered the wall was not enough.”
I join him. “So the couple decided to meet.”
“At a mulberry tree,” Teo says, smiling at me. Releasing my hand, he walks off the stage. I can’t tell why until a string of lights flickers on and, like Teo said, there’s a mulberry tree. He reach
es up to touch one of the branches, and like the other trees in the front yards, this, too, is new—slim and short. “Thisbe arrived first,” Teo says, studying the delicate leaves of the tree.
It’s sort of awkward. Shouldn’t Bee be on this side now?
“Thisbe stood there,” Teo’s saying, “and along came a lion. A female—her jaws drenched in blood. Terrified, Thisbe fled, dropping her veil. Our dear maiden would not want to be consumed by a lion!”
A few people on the grass laugh, but it’s only a hiccup compared to the laughter before. The Doublemint twins, plaid-shirted Romeo, even Sal with his glasses slipping down his nose, smile. But Marcus isn’t smiling at all. He’s whispering something to Cleo and pointing through the trees. Ugh. Why can’t he pay attention to the most exciting part of the tale? It’s his own fault for missing everything.
Looking away from Marcus, I join Teo next to the tree, and from the corner of my eye see Ana fidgeting again with the orange shawl on her head.
“When Pyramus arrived,” I join Teo again, “he found his lover’s veil.”
And to my delight, Teo pulls a bit of tulle from his pocket, the edges red like they’ve been dipped in blood. Teo thinks of everything. I take the veil in my hands, eager to explain to everyone.
“Ramus found his lover’s veil covered in blood,” I say, holding it high above my head. I walk over to Ramus, who’s standing at the front of the stage, and place the veil in his hands. He holds it, staring, obviously unsure what to do. So I explain for him.
“Naturally, with blood on the veil, Pyramus feared the worst.” I look to Ramus, wishing he could at least pretend to be scared, and I lean right into his face. “He thought his maiden had been killed.”
Someone gasps—Eloise, with her hand over her mouth. Abe smiles at her like he knows what’s going on, wrapping a protective hand around her shoulder.
Teo joins us again on the stage, standing right beside me.
“And so,” Teo says, “our young lover found a knife and killed himself, and when the young woman found him, she killed herself, too.”
Marc’s looking down at the ground and pulling his hair out of his eyes, and Cleo, beside him, coos something into his ear. Even Juliet’s still scratching her legs. I’m not sure why they’re not paying better attention.
Smiling down on everyone, Teo says, “It all seems anticlimactic, does it not?”
I have to agree.
“Um, Teo?” someone’s muffled voice calls, and it takes me a minute to realize it’s Bee—still behind the wall. Poor Bee. I had totally forgotten about her. She clears her throat, loudly. “Is it okay if I come out now?”
Teo bobs his head sideways, like he’s saying both yes and no. “I suppose that is an option,” he says, looking around, “but that would ruin the best part.” He winks at me, and I’m not sure why. I thought we’d finished with the tale.
Staring straight ahead, Teo’s eyes lock on an invisible scene. “Pyramus,” he says, voice unusually flat, “do me a favor, and bring Thisbe back.”
Ramus narrows his eyes at Teo, but after being in his company, I’m sure he’s learned everything’s easier when you listen the first time. Luckily, Ramus inches forward to examine the wall. Stretching out his fingers, he looks like he’s about to reach for the first peg, when Jonas breaks from the crowd, blue sparks shooting from his hand. Someone gasps. So do I, because Jonas has activated the stun gun in his hand.
Spinning, Ramus spots Jonas’s charged weapon. He sprints up the wall, his feet slipping a little as he climbs. But he’s quick, and apparently somewhat athletic, because he makes it to the top and disappears over it. What I don’t get is why Jonas is threatening Ramus with his stun gun. Was it really necessary to bully him, just because he took a little while? Plus, we already reenacted the tale and Pyramus was never on the same side as Thisbe when they talked.
I reach out to pull on Teo’s arm and ask what’s going on, when Teo pulls something from his pocket. I look down at his hand to find him clicking a button on a remote.
A loud noise sounds, like the earth cracking open, as the entire curtained wall shifts. At first, I’m not sure what it means. There was nothing like moving walls in the tale, but when the wall shifts to the side, a gaping hole opens up with Ramus and Bee staring at us from the other side. Their legs and feet look dirty—like they’re standing in wet paint, but the smell is worse, something acrid and decayed, like they’re standing in a piece of road kill’s grave, and a flash of fur springs from the hole, disappearing on the other side.
My blood freezes, knowing what I just saw. Teo’s opened up a hole for a lion to spring out, and something tells me the stuff on Ramus and Bee isn’t paint. They’ve been unknowingly standing in blood. The lion roars, and I cover my ears, because Ramus and Bee are inside. Teo’s just set a lion on them.
Teo clicks the remote so the wall closes again, and siren-like sounds pierce my ears—Ramus’s and Bee’s screams.
I spin toward Teo, grabbing him by the arms. “What are you doing?” I scream. He must not realize what he’s done. “They’re on the other side,” I explain, because my Teo would never purposely let loose a lion on two people in a cage. He would never stand by and watch as a lion chews them up.
A sound like the jaws of hell opening up rings in my ears. It’s the lion, confined in a much too little space. Everything gets blurry—there’re people running and too many limbs. Abe’s dreadlocks brush my face as he runs past me. Romeo shouts his name, and I look around to see Abe trying to climb over the wall. But blue lights flash as Jonas presses the stun gun into their bodies, and there’s hardly any sound. It’s like they know they should be screaming, but everyone’s gone mute. Thinking, running. Jonas swings his stun gun much too fast.
Teo smiles, and I’m choking. It feels like I’ve been shot in the chest. This isn’t who he is. Teo would never do this. He loves and kisses me, saves us from the Living Rot, chats with me about the tales, makes me CDs, and helps me with my books.
There’s a thud; Abe’s body lies at my feet. I stare at him, at the dreadlocks fallen across his face, when there’s another thud; Cleo lies unconscious next to Abe now. Why is Jonas shocking everyone to the ground?
Pounding sounds on the other side of the wall—I stagger closer—but two strong hands hold me back. I pull on the arms, but it’s Marcus, his nails digging into my arm. A few paces off, I spot Teo, who’s sighing, smiling. Smiling.
Wrenching myself from Marcus’s fingers, I lunge at Teo’s face. Because this face is not the one I loved, salivated over for months. This person is not him. As soon as I make contact, though, Teo’s somehow grabbing my wrists, and his fingers are impossible to move. I try twisting, thrashing against his grasp, but he’s death itself, hollow, wearing a mask. Those black eyes aren’t seeing anything, only taking pleasure in the shrieks. Shrieks of living and breathing human beings, my friends, Ramus and Bee.
There’s a crash behind the wall, and Bee’s frantic voice drifts out, laced with fear and pain. She shrieks, the shrill sound imploding my ears, and I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but I know I have to get her out.
Twisting in Teo’s grasp, I scream, tears burning in my eyes, “Teo, you bastard, get them out!”
But he doesn’t hear me. He’s inclined his head a fraction to the right, in the opposite direction from me, as if purposely tuning me out.
So I dig my nails into his hands, and his grip loosens a bit, and I take the opportunity to wrench my hands away, racing straight for the wall.
I’m almost there, maybe two feet from the brick edge, when footsteps echo behind me. Bee shrieks a string of profanities before the lion roars and everything stops.
My heart pounds in my ears, my stomach clenches, and I can’t accept the sound, refuse to let my stomach empty out. Why has the screaming stopped? Maybe she’s found some cavity in the rock and is hiding—that’s why everything’s quiet now.
I reach for a peg; my foot finds another, and I’m just about to reach for an
other handhold when a large, calloused hand folds over mine. I try shaking the hand loose, but it grips harder, so I look up to find Marcus gently pulling me away.
“Cheyenne…” Marcus whispers, shaking his floppy-haired head. Liquid glistens in his eyes, but he doesn’t let the moisture fall—it’s trapped inside. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me away from the stage. Like a blanket around a hornet, he protects me from the elements and the elements from me.
I want to throw him, sting him where I stand, but I know he hasn’t done this. Bee’s no longer screaming, but not because of him. The man I thought I loved killed them. Killed. The word feels so wrong. It’s not possible for someone to do such a thing. Turning to face Teo, I try to find the words, but instead the moment I shared with him inside his room flashes inside my head. The way he kissed my neck and how I shuddered in pleasure because of him. The caresses, the chats we’ve had about the tales. How could I never have seen this about him?
With one fluid motion, Teo pushes his brother aside and wraps his hungry fingers around my waist, searing my skin. Raising my hand high into the air, he cries, “And so it has begun!” His call curls out to those inching backward on the grass. Romeo tucks Juliet into his plaid chest. Abe, rising from the ground, falls into Eloise’s arms. Ana mauls her scarf with her hands.
A volcano rages in Teo’s gaze. He looms above me; the spirits of the dead lurk in his face. “Seven men and seven women,” he murmurs, scalding my ears. Running his thumb down my cheek—I am shrinking, shaking—he adds, “I am sorry to say there was not room for eight.”
8
I stare at the red curtain Teo has used to cover his twelve-foot wall. It didn’t take him long to get the lion back into the hole. Jonas tossed in a wad of meat and Teo hit the button on the remote like nothing ever happened. Nothing at all.
I try pushing aside the fear, the pain, the horrified way I feel about him. He murdered Ramus and Bee. And not with as much as a hint of remorse. He’s disposed of them like used Kleenex. This isn’t the same person I’ve known for two years, the man I wanted to be with.