by Becca Fox
“Why’re you so hell-bent on scaring me off?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t take it personally. I scare everyone away. It’s just easier.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Since my sister’s…gift came to light, two schools of thought have been developed concerning me and my dysfunctional little family,” Charlie said, hunching his shoulders against the cold. “Either we’re circus freaks, solely here for the entertainment of morbidly curious paparazzi and the occasional crazy with a supernatural fetish, or we’re just plain creepy and shouldn’t be allowed to breathe the same air as normal people.”
“But it’s just your sister who has psychic abilities, right? Why should the world think you and your uncle are freaks too?” Charlie scowled at me and I dipped my head. “No offense.”
A gaggle of pedestrians crossed the street and came walking toward us as one giant mass. I scooted over, closer to him, and gave them plenty of room. Charlie waited until the voices and footsteps had faded behind us before he spoke again.
“My sister’s condition makes her sick so she stays inside a lot. Uncle Vic and I are the ones walking among the normal people every day. It’s easier for them to direct their sick fascination or misplaced fear on us instead of Jasmine. But since my uncle is such a respected detective, he hardly gets any heat. The few brave enough to snub him will do it in their gossip columns or whisper about him when he’s not around.” Charlie scratched his scalp through the top of his backwards ball cap and avoided my gaze. “I’m an easy target. I got tired of being the butt of people’s jokes and getting pelted with questions I didn’t want to answer so I started avoiding everyone. Pretty soon the world got the hint.”
“Sounds lonely,” I muttered.
Charlie scoffed. “Having space is better than not having any. Trust me.”
“Spare change?” a homeless man croaked from his stoop.
“Nah, man, sorry,” I said as we passed. I turned back to Charlie. “Let’s talk about something else then. What do you like to do in your spare time?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “Why do you care?”
I waved a hand at the space between us. “We’re not so different, you and me. I’m the new kid in town. People I might actually wanna talk to don’t wanna talk to me, and the people who are brave enough to talk to me are usually not worth my time. Flying solo is okay and all, but…” I shrugged. “It’s also kind of nice to have somebody to talk to from time to time. And, try as you might to convince me otherwise, you’re the most decent person I’ve met so far.”
I raised a hand to prevent him from objecting. “We don’t gotta pour our hearts out to each other about our problems or our shitty family situations. I’ll stop asking about your sister and you can stop pretending you’re heartless. We’ll just talk when we want to. Deal?”
Charlie chewed on the inside of his cheek, those dark, brooding eyes fixed on what lay ahead. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he finally asked.
I smiled. “Nope.”
“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “Deal.”
Chapter 8
Charles
“Who’s that?” Esmer asked when I pulled the buzzing cell phone out of my pocket.
“My uncle. Hold on a sec.” I accepted the call and put the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”
“You’ll pick up the eighth call. Okay. I’ll try to remember next time,” he murmured, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Where are you?”
I glanced at the upcoming street signs. “At the corner of Wallingford and ninety-second.”
My uncle exhaled loudly. “All right. I’m coming to get you.”
“Not yet.”
“What?” Victor Campbell didn’t need to raise his voice. He had the incredible talent of conveying his emotions with a single look or soft word. This one word told me I was grounded for life.
I turned away from Esmer and lowered my voice. “I ran into someone from school. She’s lost. I’m walking her home.”
“Stay where you are and I’ll come get you both.”
“We’re almost there. She lives on eighty-sixth. Can you just pick me up there?”
“Who’s Charlie with?” Jasmine asked from somewhere in the background.
“Nobody,” I hissed. “Just meet me at the corner of Meridian and eighty-sixth, all right, Uncle Vic?”
“It’s probably Esmer,” Jasmine squealed. “Ask him if he’s with Esmer!”
“Who’s Esmer?” my uncle asked.
“Oh, for the love of—” I threw Esmer a scalding look when I realized she was giggling. She bit her lips. “I’ll see you later,” I growled at my nosy family and then hung up.
“Why didn’t you just let him come get us?” Esmer asked once she had control over her expression again. “I swear it’s getting colder by the second.”
I shoved the phone back into my pocket. “Sorry, but I’m not in any hurry to get ‘The Speech’.”
“Ah, the ‘You’re a Disappointment’ speech.”
I gave her an incredulous look. “No.”
Esmer scrunched her face at me from the depths of the windbreaker’s hood. “The ‘How Could You Do This to Me After All I’ve Done for You’ speech?”
“No.”
“The ‘How Could You Be So Stupid’ speech?”
“All right, enough. How many speeches have you gotten?”
Esmer shrugged and squinted against the wind. “I stopped counting after a while.”
“I shouldn’t have called it a speech. It’s more of a telepathic message, full of disappointment and hurt, that leaves me feeling about two inches tall.” I tucked my hands into my armpits. “And then, just when I think I can’t take the silence anymore, he says something like, ‘The next time you scare me like that, I won’t come looking for you,’ which we both know is bullshit. He’ll only give me one word answers to any questions I ask, then he’ll transition into one sentence replies, and finally, after a week or so, things will go back to normal between us.” I smirked. “After hearing some of the speeches you’ve gotten though, my uncle doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Looks to me like you already have a pretty good parent.” Esmer elbowed me, a smile making half of her mouth curl. “Who needs Mom and Dad, am I right?”
I’d all but forgotten about my mom’s letter. Esmer’s words caused a mixture of emotions to course through me—grief, worthlessness, anger, hope—all of which I suppressed. “Yeah, I guess,” was all I said.
We walked in silence for a while. I watching the cars that passed, occasionally glanced at the shop windows along my left side, moved over to let other people walk past, all the while shivering in the wind.
“You never told me what you like to do in your spare time,” she said at last.
I wiped my nose with the cuff of my sleeve and shrugged. “I make things, mostly.”
“What kind of things?”
“Sculptures, pieces of furniture, optical illusion pieces, the occasional necklace or earrings for my sister, stuff like that.”
“What materials do you use?”
“Recycled wood, metal, and glass.” I nodded at the sidewalk as it curved away from us up ahead. “We’re turning here.”
Esmer placed a hand over the top of her head when the wind threatened to blow her hood off. “Yeah, this looks familiar.”
“So…” I cleared my throat. “Why’re you here anyway?”
“Took you long enough to ask.”
I scowled at her, heat rise around my neck. “We said we weren’t going to talk about our shitty family situations and I thought maybe your reason for being here might have something to do with your family.”
Esmer elbowed me again. “Soothe your boobs, Charlie boy. You explained why you like being a social outcast. It’s only fair that I tell you the tragic tale of Esmer’s Banishment to Seattle.” She blew the fiery strands of hair out of her face. “It all started when Dad died. My brother, Robbie, was already off at college s
o he wasn’t around for the dark shit. Mom was depressed for weeks. Wouldn’t say nothing. I didn’t know how to feel. I mean, my dad was a good dad. He wasn’t around much, but when he was home, he and I got along real well. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he was actually gone forever, ya know? I was only fifteen and my mom had checked out. It was too much.” She rolled her shoulders. “So I joined the gang.”
How’d that work out for ya? I had to bite my tongue to keep from voicing the sarcastic question aloud.
But when Esmer glanced at my face and rolled her eyes, I figured she could probably read my mind. “Yeah, it wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had,” she admitted. “But I was desperate.”
I held an arm out to stop her from walking in front of a parking garage exit. The driver waiting just inside the concrete building gave us a grateful wave before pulling out into traffic. I lowered my arm and we kept walking.
“We did the usual gang stuff: party, vandalism, some fighting,” Esmer said as if there hadn’t been an interruption. “The leader, Marty Gutierrez, claimed me as his girlfriend. I did some time in juvy, got my piercings and my tattoo. My mom started noticing me again, but we spent most of our time arguing.
“Then my mom started dating Hunter. It’d been three years since we buried my dad and, if it’d been anyone other than Hunter, I might’ve been sort of okay with it.” She grimaced. “But Hunter’s a dick with anger issues. I was already dating an abusive asshole; I didn’t want to have to come home to one too. But it didn’t seem to matter what I wanted.
“She married him six months later. He pretended to give a rat’s ass about me while they were dating, but he dropped the act as soon as he moved into the house.” Esmer waved a hand at the side of her head, most likely gesturing to the hidden scar around her ear. “Stuff like this started happening and my mom…she didn’t do nothing about it. I mean, she tried to get him to calm down before he could hurt me but she’s weak and non-confrontational. I think she believed I kind of deserved what I got since I was the one acting out. Shipping me off to Seattle was his idea.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
Esmer puffed out her chest and stuck out her chin. “Nineteen. Why?”
“That’s what I thought. You’re technically an adult. You could’ve told your stepdad to screw himself. You could’ve left home if you really wanted to, probably asked someone from your gang to house you for a while. So, why didn’t you?”
Some of the rebelliousness seeped away from her features, robbed the confident lift from her shoulders. She avoided my gaze with a scoff. “Yeah, like my peeps from the gang had it any better than I did. At least at home I have my mom. By coming here, I better my chances of still being welcome in their house whenever she and Hunter decide to end my banishment.”
She didn’t look like a hardened gang member now, more like a kid too scared to leave the familiar. No matter how much she hated it. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized there must’ve been more to it than that. I mean, she had to have graduated from high school or at least gotten her GED in order to register for classes at Green Bay Community. How many teenage criminals did that? Maybe there was a part of her that thought about her future, wanted more out of life than causing trouble and getting the wrong sort of attention. Maybe the decision to come to Seattle hadn’t been made for her after all. Maybe it had been the escape she’d been waiting for.
I was tempted to push the matter further, call her out for not being as hardcore as she pretended to be. But I didn’t want to be just another asshole in her life. So I let it go.
Esmer lifted her hands, palms facing the sky, face drawn in miserable resignation. “Well, there you have it. Now I’m living with my stepdad’s aunt, starting community college in a new city, with more rules than I can count.” She shoved her hands back into the pockets of the windbreaker. “Seriously, the old bat won’t let me do nothing other than clean her ridiculously large mansion and do homework. She’s taken away my tunes, Charlie, my tunes!” She groaned the words up at the sky. “I don’t know anyone here so the fact that I can’t go out don’t bother me too much. I can stomach not watching TV. I mean, it sucks, but I can live without it. Going to bed early ain’t so bad either. What else am I gonna do? But I can’t live without my phone. It’s so quiet in my head!”
I cracked a smile. “I take it you like music.”
Esmer nodded, smiling wistfully. “I’ve been plotting different ways to get into my aunt’s room because, I bet you anything, that’s where she has it. But I’m coming up with nothing that sounds like it could work.”
“What kinds of bands do you listen to?” I asked as we turned onto Meridian.
As the street went on, the buildings on either side of us slowly began to change from business to residential. And the homes I was seeing were old. In good condition, but ancient.
Esmer counted them off on her fingers. “Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, the Beatles, Journey, Coldplay, Aerosmith, the Doors, Steely Dan, Heart, Guns ’N Roses, ACDC if I’m really pissed, The Runways, Chuck Berry, Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday if I’m depressed, Nat King Cole if it’s Christmas, Benny Carter, Ray Charles, Dion, the Beach Boys if I’m in a weird dancing mood, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, George Strait—”
I made a ‘time out’ sign with my hands. “Hold up. You like country music?”
“Only the classics. I wouldn’t be a true music lover if I couldn’t appreciate the classics.” She said it like it should’ve been obvious.
I snorted. “Does a true music lover appreciate rap too?”
“Of course.”
I shook my head. But I was still smiling. It was cold, Esmer’s story was just as sad and sucky as mine, we were both going to get into trouble once we got home, but I was smiling.
Did that mean I was having fun?
“You’re weird,” I finally said.
Esmer winked at me. “I know. Ain’t it charming?”
January 11th, 1800
I spoke to Dymeka of my plan. He wept at my request, fell to his knees and begged in anguish for my forgiveness. He was certain he was the cause of my suffering. Dearest Dymeka. Through tears, I explained my plan but he refused. He would allow me to suffer no longer but he said he, himself, could not live without me, nor could he die knowing he had killed me. In this impasse, he proposed a new plan.
“I will do thee justice, my love,” he swore. “We are immortal. We must protect our curse from the world, yet we need not subjugate ourselves to a prison of our own making. We need not rule the world but it is ours to discover! Flee with me once more and we will stop when thy heart grows weary.”
My dearest Dymeka. How could I have doubted him, my most precious treasure?
I took his hand, swore to follow him for as long as he wished. That very moment, we fled in the night from ourselves and all our misery. As if our self-loathing was waging war against us, we packed two bags with general supplies, saddled our horses, and rode west. I wept as we galloped in the darkness, fearing my own destruction would reach out of the tree branches and consume us both. But when the sun rose, my fears disappeared. I slowed my horse and Dymeka matched my pace.
“We are safe now,” he assured me.
I couldn't agree more.
I must confess, traveling is much better than sitting at home and contemplating the dreadful curse we set upon ourselves. We have no need for food or water. We can eat on occasion for pleasure. Therefore, our cargo is light. Our horses are strong and will carry us across the country to the uninhabited lands. We will never stop. Once we are done discovering this country, we will head south and keep going until we reach the sea. And from there, we will go back to Europe. Surely those lands have changed since we last crossed them. And by the time we finish with this side of the map, much will have changed indeed.
Traveling, seeing the wonders of this earth, makes immortality bearable again. I find myself laughing at the slightest whim and Dymeka seems younger in spir
it than I’ve seen him in decades. I think we have found purpose and pleasure in life again and, most importantly, in each other.
Chapter 9
Esmeralda
So we talked. Well, I talked. Charlie mostly snorted, gave the occasional comment, and gestured for me to continue after he was done secretly judging me about something. It was cool, the most fun I’d had since being banished. I was a little surprised he hadn’t said anything about the gang or Marty, even though it was obvious there was more to that part of the story. But we could get to it later, much later. It felt great to spill my guts about my family, to get the impression that someone actually cared about what I was saying, maybe even wanted to know about my shit.
It wasn’t until I got started that I realized I actually wanted to talk about it. I wanted someone to carry all of this with me.
Eventually, and unfortunately, we arrived at our destination. Charlie blinked up at Dinah’s estate, his mouth going slack.
“I know,” I muttered. “Wicked awesome, ain’t it?”
Charlie arched an eyebrow before comprehension dawned. “Oh, you were being sarcastic that time. Gotcha.”
The door swung open and hit the wall with a bang that echoed across the quiet neighborhood. Golden light came from the house, outlining the shape of an old woman with a hunchback. She came marching down the steps and across the lawn.
I leaned over to Charlie and said, “Brace yourself,” out of the corner of my mouth.
“You,” Aunt Dinah said, squinted fiery eyes fixed on me. “Explain.”
I clasped my hands behind my back and rocked back and forth a little. “Well, after you snapped at me for no damn reason, you reminded me of my dear ol’ stepdad and I started feeling real sad. So I hopped out of my window, climbed down the drainpipe, and went for a stroll in the city. There, I ran into this guy.” I nodded at my escort, who raised a hand in greeting and awkwardly said, “Hi. I’m Charles.”