by Mary Gray
Marc’s eyebrows perk up in curiosity, but I pretend to only see Teo; not that that’s an easy thing to do, since avoiding Marcus’s face is like avoiding cupcakes. I turn my arm so just Marc can see the tip of the remote.
“We should play a game,” I explain, and Marcus immediately takes the remote from my hand as he passes behind me. From the corner of my eye, I see him tuck it into his jeans pocket, and I quickly gesture to the others scattered across the room—Sal and Ana in their corner, and Abe and Eloise and Romeo and Juliet clustered together in the middle of the floor. “Those who don’t perform well…” I purposely don’t finish the thought, allowing Teo to fill in the blank.
Teo tilts his head to the side as if considering my suggestion. “And what game were you thinking?”
Sardines, but I know the game is much too juvenile for Teo. It needs to be something he can respect, something that will increase his authority as our leader. Like an emperor of Rome. I think of the Coliseum and the gladiators forced to fight within. Teo would love that.
But Marcus offers a game. “Truth or Dare.”
I almost choke. Gladiators to this? Surely Teo will not be impressed.
But, to my amazement, Teo laughs. “Ah, the memories,” he says, clapping Marcus on the back. And for the first time, maybe ever, the brothers huddle closely together, laughing.
“Our father would play this game with us,” Teo says. “He had some—what would you say, Marcus? Talents for the game?”
Marcus, of all things, fist-bumps Teo. “Remember the squirrels?”
Teo laughs a laugh I’ve never heard—high-pitched and entirely unreserved. “Oedipus and Jocasta,” he sighs. “The rodents never did like what Father did to their paws after my dare.”
Marc chuckles, deep in his throat, but looks away.
“What did he do?” I ask, placing my arm awkwardly on the back of the couch.
Teo’s eyes lock with mine, which immediately makes me suffocate. “Why, he chopped them off.” And suddenly I don’t like the idea of playing this game. No one should play.
But Teo claps his hands together as if this is the best idea he’s ever heard. “Everyone! I would like to invite you all to play a game. Jonas, our dear host, I expect you will have no problem with this?”
Jonas, now arranging bowls over on the refreshment counter, bows grandly, like it’s the most important job he’s ever been asked to do.
Teo glances around the room eagerly, as if choosing between Oedipus or Jocasta. But he returns to me. “Persephone. Won’t you please choose our first contestant?”
Mouth dry, I scan the room. My first choice is to change Teo’s mind completely, but I’ve already distracted him twice, so that leaves picking someone, and there’s only one person I don’t like in this room: Sal. I hate the way he’s always belittling Ana in front of everyone else. So I say, “Sal,” shuddering because I’m not particularly sad.
Sal, in the back corner with Ana, meets my gaze. I’m pretty sure he can tell I don’t mind singling him out.
“My dear neighbor, Salim.” Teo smiles. “Truth,” he licks his lips, “or Dare?”
Sal pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then glares at Ana. He blames her for my choice. That’s why it was so easy to pick him. Ana shoves a piece of celery from the window ledge into her pocket, as if she’s worried she’ll get in trouble for leaving the celery out.
Sal thrusts out his chin. “Truth.” I pray to God that he doesn’t do something that will get Ana in trouble along with him.
“Excellent, Salim,” Teo says, grinning at Marcus, as if sharing a secret joke. Sal should have said dare, then.
Marc, quick on the uptake, shoots his brother a gleaming smile, as if Truth is what he hoped Sal would say, but I have a feeling that’s not true.
Teo considers Sal’s answer only for a moment as his eyes dart over to Ana in front of the windows. “Whom would you say is not committed to our community, here at Elysian Fields?” he asks.
My heart pummels my chest. Not now. He can’t make his choice yet.
Sal removes his glasses and polishes them on his green polo before replacing them again. “I request a new partner, sir.” He rubs his hands on his jeans. “Mine does not approve of your world. She wants to leave.” No! He’s singling Ana out.
Teo stiffens. Ana, sweet Ana’s face blanches as white as the walls, a string of celery clinging to her upper lip. I wish we lived in a Star Trek episode and could ask the bridge to beam us up. But Teo seems to relish the calm, methodical approach today. Turning to Ana, he asks, “Is that true, Anarkali?”
Ana shakes her head furiously, making the shawl on her head slip. “No, not at all!” she says as I scramble for some way to help. “He just doesn’t like me. We never get along.” Which is true. Sal is a classic douche.
Lips turned downward, Teo looks at me, and I brace myself on the couch. “Do you remember, Persephone, what we did with the last couple who could not commit?”
I can’t allow Teo to do the same thing to Ana and Sal. I need to stop him now. Ana is my friend—she gave me the list of names. Protected me. And now she’s stuck with Sal.
Floundering for an answer, I grimace at the options. I tell the truth, and Teo drops the axe. I smudge the boundaries, and I risk a greater temper when I don’t give him the answer he wants. So I reach for a third option, and it’s a far reach, but I pray Teo will agree. “Teo, you should put us to a test.” I weave my fingers into his; do everything I can to not look at Marcus’s face, because even I don’t like the look of Teo’s and my hands together.
Teo’s thumb rubs the back of my ring, and everything but my muscles flinch. “And what do you mean?” he asks.
“It’s a test of reunion,” I say, watching Romeo and Juliet shrink closer to each other, the both of them scrunched onto one chair. Juliet hides behind Romeo’s plaid shirt, and Eloise and Abe have managed to squeeze together into the other chair. “Each couple will separate,” I explain, glancing at Ana, who’s taking slow, deep breaths. “The goal will be to find each other again.”
Teo’s eyebrow arches, but I’m happy with my suggestion; this is what Marcus and I need to get away. Only I’m taking Ana. She’s as good as dead if she stays.
“Set a timer,” I explain the game. “The men must go to the men’s side of the street, the women to the women’s—outside, of course. In five minutes, Hades or Jonas will sound the foghorn. The men will then find the women. The last two couples to return will lose.”
Abe and Eloise rise from their seat, staring at me wide-eyed. Abe calms his companion, but she’s quietly shrieking. Abe’s heels pump up and down, like he’s more than ready to look for her. He probably thinks he might win. I hope he does, because I don’t have a way to bring everyone, and Eloise and Abe winning might give them a leg up. I hate that I can’t save everyone right now, but this is my best-case scenario. Hopefully, by the time I am gone, it won’t be long before they figure out how to get out, too. It’s the only way we can all be free.
“No one is allowed to hide inside,” Teo says, clarifying my game.
I nod, glancing at Marc. This is it—does he know what we must do? He’s smiling—I have to trust that we’re on the same page. “So, let us begin!” Teo claps, singing over the group. This is it. I don’t have time to look for Marc, because the couples are splitting madly apart, flocking to the front door—geese scrambling for safety. I locate Ana just as she’s about to squeeze through.
I run up behind her. “Follow me,” I hiss as loudly as I dare into her ear.
Ana glances behind her, eyes springing open wide, but when she sees me run, she follows me through the back door.
Whisking right past her, I run past Juliet and Cleo’s houses, dash along the side of Ana’s house, veering for the woods. Ana’s right behind me.
Her breathing’s only slightly harder than my own—probably because of that sari she has to wear. I wish she could throw it off. “Are we going to escape?” she whimpers, desperate.<
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“Y…yes,” I answer, turning again for the trees. “We have the remote!”
Ana half-giggles, half-squeals, and we dodge thorny branches—I actually manage to veer around them like Marc. Ana’s not doing too badly until her scarf snags on a tree branch and she tosses it straight down to the ground.
When we reach the fence, Marcus is already there, shoving a log under the barbed wire.
“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling the blood drain from my face. My voice drops to a whimper, because this isn’t playing out right. “Didn’t you bring the remote?”
The log bounces uselessly to the ground. “It doesn’t work!”
This isn’t happening. The night feels much too hot, and the fence is impossible to get through. This isn’t happening. We were supposed to escape.
I grab the black piece of plastic from the ground and start hitting buttons, but none of them do anything. Teo’s going to be looking for us—if he isn’t already. But this remote was supposed to work. Why isn’t it working? I try hitting two buttons at once like one’s shift. But none of the combinations do a thing. I stare at the useless piece of plastic in my hands and ask, “What are we going to do?”
Marcus looks at me, shoulders sagging.
I crouch down to the ground and rub my fingers over the cement’s edge, searching for a button, because we need his insulin on the other side. But I find nothing but leaves and soil and rocks, and when my fingers brush up against Marcus’s shoes, he moves away to pry a log beneath the fence. But the wires sit too close to the cement. I whip around, run to the trees, and begin searching their gnarled trunks for any type of button.
Ana’s small voice—thin, like ice—is what finally makes me stop. “You don’t even have the vaccine.”
Her accusation makes my blood, every last vein, freeze. How could I—how? How could I have forgotten about the vaccine? I can’t believe I was so thoughtless that I forgot the most important part. I stagger, having to support myself against a gnarled tree trunk. “Teo—he was going to—Sal—remember how he—Sal wanted you out.”
Ana studies me, anger rippling off her face. “I don’t care what Sal said,” and she is so, so right. My cheeks are burning and my chest cavity is deflating, as I can do no better than stare at the weedy ground. When I glance up, Ana hisses, “I can’t believe I followed you. We’d better turn back.”
Everything inside me is hollow. I just exposed their lives. Teo could catch Ana and Marc, and I tried escaping without the vaccine.
Leaves and tree roots crunch as Ana leaves. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. My stomach curls, clenches, and I feel like I might throw up. I clutch at my stomach, find myself staring at but not really seeing the blotches of brown and yellow ground. How could I risk everyone’s lives like this? A memory of Teo’s taunting in class plays in the back of my mind. Analyze the problem, Miss Laurent. Do not allow your emotions to rule your head.
Bitter tears threaten to fall, so I fling the remote at the fence. I watch it spark as it hits the fence, and only then does it occur to me that I should’ve saved it to sneak it back into Teo’s coat.
Marcus stares at the remote on the ground now, paces, but comes back to me. Gripping me by the arm, he forces me back through the dark trees. The trees huddle closer together, their leaves emerging as fingers with sharp, stinging nails. The crocodile teeth of the bark I saw earlier have taken root in the trees’ smiles; their shadows jeer, mock me for not seeing things: Brilliant, aren’t you, Cheyenne? Endangering your friends. It’s hard to see what Teo or his brother ever saw in you. You’re nothing.
One branch snatches a wad of my hair. I shriek—not loudly—but the fear does escape my lips. Marc helps me unwind my hair, speaking to me softly. “I didn’t tell you the name for these trees: Hercules’s club. They think they’re all bad, but don’t let them get to you. They’re more bark than bite.”
I know Marc is trying to make me feel better, but his sense of humor is so off. I’ve sabotaged everything by trying to leave without the vaccine and using a faulty remote. He shouldn’t be helping me. He should be in a hospital, sleeping.
“We were supposed to escape.” I squirm as he continues working my hair from the thorns and twigs. “I can’t believe I—” I take a deep breath and try to fill in the blank, but can’t because the fear is too real. Ana and Marc both risk getting caught because of me. The body bags flash in my mind again, and I have to force myself not to cry. A swift tug from Marcus pulls the leaves clean off the branch, though they cling to my hair. He combs at the leaves, trying to push them off, and I don’t know what I’ve done for him to be so nice.
“It’ll all work out,” Marcus is telling me, then nudges me forward, encouraging me to sprint, so I scramble for the houses. I don’t know how he can be so forgiving. He’s the one missing his insulin. He’s the one who should be panicking, throwing remotes.
We veer past thistles and another collection of those grenade-like seeds before we make it back to the clearing. I remember the game, how I should be looking for Teo and Marcus should be with Cleo. Ana and Sal should be together, too.
Sprinting away from us, Ana’s sari flaps wide open, revealing her milk-white legs. She’s a few meters from her house when—no, oh no, no–Jonas emerges from around her house along with the other couples, and Teo brings up the rear.
Black stubble masks a livid face. It’s happened—no God, please. It’s happened. He’s found us. And there’s no escape.
“Persephone, Ana, Marc,” Teo’s eyes simmer, “you are the last ones.”
20
Teo clutches my hands, the ebony of his eyes merging with mine. Wedding vows—that’s what it feels like we’re about to exchange, but we’re not. Raindrops sprinkle, tickle my face.
“Teo?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer, merely stares at the hair sticking to my neck.
I look to the others, how the remaining women in their bright dresses decorate Sal’s front yard like Christmas ornaments—Juliet in purple, Cleo in red, and Eloise in her black. Ana, though, is far below me in her orange sari. Teo’s already forced her into his trap, a roofless, elevator-like prison of brick dug into the ground. It has something to do with the Salim and Anarkali tale, the one Sal and Ana are named after. The men stand there, too, but no one says a thing. Jonas aims his stun gun at Marcus, and my heels teeter at the edge of the prison of brick.
Strangling the throbbing pulse in my wrists, Teo addresses the crowd in a voice of steel and metal.
“There was once a slave girl named Anarkali,” he says, “who fell in love with the wrong man. His name was Prince Salim, and it was said he loved her back.” He’s going to lock me down there with Ana next.
“But one day, Salim’s father, the powerful Emperor Akbar, learned of his son’s lowly choice. He ordered the girl to be thrown into a prison, then buried alive behind a wall of brick.” Buried—alive?
“Salim was devastated. He would never see his love again. So he did what any love-besotted prince would do—”
I try backing away but the hole’s right behind me. Shoving me hard, into the hole, he finishes, “He left her there to rot.”
High above me, Teo reaches into his suit pocket, but comes up empty. He’s looking for the remote I took from him. Fire lurches in his eyes, and he snaps his gaze to Jonas, who knows what to do. With one free hand, Jonas digs into his pocket and pulls out his remote, just like Teo’s. That’s probably the one that opens the fence.
Jonas clicks a button, causing a roof of brick to begin to close over us. They’re leaving us here, but Teo is supposed to love me. We’re supposed to be together.
All I can see are the frown lines on Teo’s face, the coals burning inside the ebony. I expect him to scream at me, but the burning coals flicker out before there’s nothing. Teo’s eyes widen, and his jaw grows slack. He’s hollow, empty. He knows he’s losing me.
* * *
Darkness. No light. There aren’t any cracks in the bricks, no cracks i
n the grassy ground beneath us. The walls are brick, like the newly closed roof. I don’t even want to think what Teo will do to Marc. He won’t kill his brother, will he? I can’t see any way he’ll give his brother insulin now.
I cover my face with my hands; how could I have done this? I risked Ana’s and Marc’s lives. I’m the reason so many are dead, the reason we’re all in trouble. I’m the cause for all of this.
Falling to my knees, I reach out to touch Ana’s hand, but she jerks it away. I am so sorry, Ana. You are right to hate me.
I consider clawing my way around the ground, but I know the rock-hard Texas clay. The brick walls, too, will never budge. We’re trapped here, trapped. Ana and I will never get out.
* * *
“HELLO! HEY! HELLO!” Does Teo really mean to leave us inside? I kick a wall; it’s like kicking the granite counters in Bee’s house. “MARCUS! TEO! JONAS! HELLO!” I jump up and press the palm of my hand against the top of the tomb. The bricks are cold, unyielding. I crash back to the ground, careful to veer around Ana. She won’t talk. I stomp, scuff my feet; I pound them into the ground.
I’m stuck in a hole and I don’t know if we will ever get out.
If we’re in front of Sal’s house, that means we’re next to Marc’s—right by where that snake came out. I rock back and forth on my feet.
I rock.
I rock.
I rock.
* * *
Penitence is a black, erasing thing; it overcomes you, wipes you clean. Current time no longer exists, and I’m thrown back into my memories, facing what I do not wish to see. Flashes of yearning and not belonging overwhelm me. Colors of memories flash in my mind, unbidden. They’re green and blue and orange and red—the colors of thirty helium-filled balloons, their strings clutched in my hands. A school day, early in the fall; class had let out, and I was struggling.
For some reason I had volunteered to help with a dance. Not just any dance, but Sadie Hawkins, where the girls asked the boys for a change. And who would I go with? Teo Richardson, as always. That would never happen, though, because Teo was off-limits, though at the time I felt the age difference shouldn’t matter; there were, after all, six years between Mayor Tydal and Mom, exactly the same number as between Teo and me. And I’d just turned eighteen. But instead of allowing teenagers to act naturally, the school had us do “far-reaching” things, like stuff thirty helium-filled balloons inside the trunk of my much too small car.