Mercury Boys

by Chandra Prasad

  “Is it because you can be around Benny anytime, and Emery’s, well, far away?”

  “Exactly. Plus, Benny and I have known each other for years. We understand each other. I still don’t totally know Emery, you know? And he doesn’t totally know me, either. I worry we don’t have enough in common . . .”

  “Well, let’s face it—he is from another century.”

  “I mean, I probably love Emery more than Benny. And I’m more attracted to him. But it’s hard to imagine living my whole life with him. How do I explain, like, Wi-Fi, or cable TV, or air-conditioning? What about my driving test or studying for the SATs? What about the stupid prom? He won’t get any of that stuff.”

  “I guess not,” Saskia conceded. She noticed that a muscle under Adrienne’s left eye kept twitching. Saskia wondered if it was a side effect of the mercury or if Adrienne was just stressed out.

  “What do you think I should do?” Adrienne asked.

  “God, I don’t know.” Saskia really didn’t.

  “Please, I need your advice.”

  “Why my advice?”

  “I don’t know who else to talk to,” Adrienne conceded. “And I . . . I think you understand my problem better than anyone else.”

  Saskia knew what she should say, what Paige would want her to say—that Emery was the obvious choice. The only choice, according to club rules. But she couldn’t force herself to speak the words. Because she honestly didn’t believe them.

  “If you can’t decide, maybe just leave it to chance,” she said carefully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you don’t have to figure it out this second. Maybe you should take a step back, and see where fate leads you.”

  “Where fate leads me,” Adrienne repeated, as if weighing the value of the words.

  “That does sound a little cringy,” Saskia admitted.

  Adrienne giggled. “Well, it’s not like I have any better ideas.”

  “So you think you’ll wait?”

  “I guess so,” she said.

  Saskia nodded. “Good. So now that we kind of resolved your problem, can I ask you something? Something serious?”

  “Sure—anything.”

  “Would you go with me to buy more ice cream?”

  “It’s Rich,” Lila whispered to Saskia after answering her cell phone.

  They were in Saskia’s room, where Saskia’s sputtering window air conditioner provided welcome relief from the day’s insane heat. The temperature was projected to reach a hundred degrees. Saskia thought it was already there—and then some. She’d been sprawled out on the floor, but sat up quickly and scooted closer to Lila, who nervously put her phone on speaker.

  “Hi,” she said tentatively.

  “Hey, kid. How are you?” Rich replied.

  Saskia could tell that Lila was grateful to hear his voice. Though it had been only a short time since the firing, Lila had said that life already felt drastically different. She missed the paycheck, the archive, the comforting repetition of her work, and of course her conversations with Rich.

  “Miserable,” Lila admitted. “You?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “How’s Marlene?”

  “Killing puppies. Eating babies. The usual.”

  Lila giggled. Rich cleared his throat. “I convinced her that she shouldn’t, you know, lodge an official complaint—or worse, file charges,” he said.

  “She was gonna file charges?”

  “She was thinking about it.”

  “That’s hard-core.”

  “It’s Marlene—what do you expect?” Rich retorted. “I told her you’re going through some bad stuff—which honestly seems to be the case—and she calmed down a little. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s still pissed. But now at least she’s not cursing and hurling stuff around her office anymore.”

  “Thanks, Rich. I owe you. And I guess I am going through ‘some bad stuff.’ It’s a weird time.”

  “I gathered that. Ever think about talking to someone? Like, a counselor or therapist?”

  “Sometimes,” Lila admitted.

  “I mean, you must believe in therapy. Isn’t that what you’re gonna be—a psychiatrist?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And not that you need my advice,” he continued, “but I gotta say one more thing. Those friends of yours—especially the blonde and her sister—I’m not sure they’re a great influence. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re a terrible one. Maybe you should think about that, too—who you want your friends to be.”

  Saskia exhaled, feeling guilty all over again, but Lila gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ve got a point,” she told Rich, then added shyly, “I miss hanging out with you. You were the best part of the job.”

  “Well, turns out I’m not gonna be here much longer, either.”

  “What?! Don’t tell me Marlene fired you, too.”

  “Nah,” said Rich. “I gave her my two weeks’ notice. ’Member that library science program I applied for? I got in.”

  “Oh my god. That’s so great! I’m so happy for you!”

  “Thanks, kid. It’s crazy to think I’m gonna be a student again. But I figure it’s never too late to make a fresh start, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And listen—there’s one other thing I wanted to tell you. I talked to a buddy who works at Yale—in the psychology department, of all places. He says they’re looking for a part-time administrative assistant. The pay’s not great, but the job’s in your wheelhouse. He thinks he could get you an interview . . .”

  “Holy crap, Rich!” Lila exclaimed.

  “Hey, hey, don’t get all excited yet. It’s only an interview. No guarantees.”

  “Yeah, I understand. But still, thank you . . . for everything.”

  “I’ll text you the info. I hope it works out.”

  “I’ll bring my A-game,” she promised.

  “And I’ll try to survive my last two weeks with Satan. Wish me luck.”

  A few days later, Lila came to Saskia’s house to cook another meal.

  As she bent over a simmering pot of spaghetti sauce, wooden spoon in hand, Lila revealed there was new fallout from her library firing. “My scholarship to Western Connecticut State’s off the table,” she muttered, stirring the sauce so vigorously Saskia was sure it would splatter the walls.

  “Damn, that sucks.”

  “Tell me about it. And what’s worse is, my mother’s been praying on her rosary. Nonstop. I haven’t even seen that rosary since was I was in elementary school and my dad left.”

  For what felt like the millionth time, Saskia wished she hadn’t asked Lila for so many favors, that she hadn’t caused this domino effect of problems by insisting on taking the Cornelius daguerreotype. In her darkest moments, sometimes she even regretted meeting Cornelius in the first place.

  “At least you have a shot at that Yale job,” she said, trying to stay positive for Lila’s sake.

  “I don’t know. The interview went well, but I can’t assume they liked me as much as I liked them.”

  “Have some faith. I’m sure you made a great impression.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Of course!”

  Just then, Saskia’s phone beeped. The sound startled both girls. It was a text from Paige about that night’s MBC meeting. Saskia read it aloud.

  P: change in location. we’re not gonna meet under the tree, but at the end of whallen ave.

  “Whallen Ave.—that’s where Arrivo is,” Lila said, pursing her lips.

  Concerned, Saskia texted back.

  S: Arrivo? why?

  P: you’ll see it’ll be a surprise

  “I’ve never really liked Paige’s surprises,” Lila muttered, stirring the sauce harder than ever.

&nbs
p; Later on, as the two drove slowly down Whallen Avenue, Saskia had to admit she agreed with Lila. It was an ugly street, frankly, pitted and pockmarked, with acres of weeds, wild brambles, and straggly trees on either side. Saskia was surprised by how close Whallen was to her own street—much closer than she’d thought. After what Lila had said about the connection between pollution and mental illness, it wasn’t a comforting thought.

  Saskia rolled down the window and instantly regretted it. The air that poured in reminded her of chem class. She wrinkled her nose and gazed at garbage along the roadside: beer bottles, crumpled newspapers, fast-food wrappers, soda cans. A white plastic bag, the kind you used to get at grocery stores, blew past like an amorphous ghost. As Saskia watched it disappear, she wondered uncomfortably if she even belonged in the Mercury Boys Club anymore.

  She’d confirmed what had happened between her and Cornelius after Adrienne had told the other girls. She’d been worried about their reactions; after all, she’d technically broken rule number eleven: If an MBC member wants to break up with her Forever Boyfriend, she must seek permission from the club. But the girls had been understanding and consoling—even Paige.

  Still, now that Saskia didn’t have a Forever Boyfriend, she wasn’t sure of her place in the club. Did she have to get another Forever Boyfriend to stay? She wasn’t ready for that—and in fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready. All she was sure about was that she didn’t want to lose her new friends and Cornelius all in the same week. She was already half depressed because of the breakup; she didn’t want to spiral down any more.

  As she and Lila neared the end of the road, the plant loomed like a hulking metal beast. A postapocalyptic fright. It was an enormous structure with huge, weather-beaten storage tanks and a couple dozen sky-high smokestacks. The latter furiously pumped chemical clouds into the night; Saskia was surprised she had never spotted those gloomy puffs of smog from her house. Within the plant, ladders and scaffolding rose to various decks and bunkers, some several stories high. All around machines were at work, noisy machines with wheel cranks, belching pipes, screeching valves, and gurgling boilers.

  Lila parked in front of a chain-link fence that stretched so far Saskia figured it must encircle all of Arrivo. The sisters’ car sat nearby, but there was no sign of them or Adrienne. Saskia texted Paige.

  S: Where are you?

  Unsure of what to do, Saskia and Lila walked the perimeter of the fence. Every fifteen feet or so, they read a new and alarming sign: danger. do not enter. hazardous chemicals. keep out. authorized personnel only. peligro: almacenamiento de sustancias químicas.

  Saskia was scared even to breathe. She felt like she should be wearing a hazmat suit and gas mask. She texted Paige again. No response.

  When she and Lila had gone a few hundred feet, they spotted a way in. One of the fence gates was ajar. Two thick locks lay open on the ground.

  “Did the sisters do that?” asked Saskia, kicking one of the open locks with the toe of her sneaker.

  “Probably.”

  “Which one knows how to pick locks?”

  “I’d put my money on Sara Beth,” said Lila. “Bet she’s learned all kinds of tricks from her pickpocket boyfriend.”

  They entered cautiously and looked around. The plant was only partly lit, and visibility was poor.

  “Should we yell for them?” Saskia whispered.

  Lila shook her head. Saskia knew what she was thinking: that someone else might be listening—a workman, a cop, maybe someone worse. Her eyes darted back and forth. Trudging forward, she worried a shadow might come to life, jump out, and grab her. Arrivo would be a great place for a horror movie—or a murder.

  The girls passed a heaping pile of scrap metal, an area grimly marked chemical burial ground, and storage tanks that reminded Saskia of oversized steel coffins. To her left, a tarp-lined holding pool of rust-colored liquid looked like something out of an especially creepy Edward Gorey book. When she spotted what appeared to be a dead animal floating in the middle, she started to feel dizzy.

  Putting her hand on Lila’s shoulder, Saskia tried to steady herself. She noticed Lila was gazing upward. “Do you think a storm’s coming?” Lila asked, pointing.

  Saskia shrugged. The sky was so smothered by air pollution that it was hard to tell. “Where are they?” she murmured, checking her phone again.

  A few minutes later, the girls heard a whistle, almost lost in the whir and wheeze of machinery. It seemed to be coming from one of the metal decks in the heart of the structure. Lila whistled back.

  “Up here!” someone called.

  Squinting, Saskia could just make out the inky silhouettes of three people deep in the labyrinth of scaffolding. The sisters and Adrienne. They looked like flies caught in a rusty metal web.

  “Come on up!” It was Paige. She sounded strangely chipper, given the setting.

  Saskia looked at Lila. “Is she serious?”

  “You know the answer to that,” Lila replied grimly.

  With a sigh, Saskia took hold of a ladder. Loose paint chips stuck to her sweaty palms. Some made paper cut–thin scratches in her skin. Still light-headed, she ascended. She looked down exactly once and vowed not to do it again.

  “Keep going,” urged Lila, who was right behind her.

  One rickety ladder led to the next. Saskia tried to ignore how the metal creaked and groaned under her weight. She wondered if the structure had been inspected recently, if it had ever been inspected. She remembered the movie Vertigo, starring the ever-charming Jimmy Stewart, who had talked a terrified Kim Novak into climbing the steep steps of a very tall bell tower. And how Kim Novak had climbed those many steps, even knowing that it wasn’t going to end well—that she wasn’t going to end well.

  Finally, not a moment too soon, Saskia made it to the platform where the girls were standing. The sisters grabbed her hands and helped pull her up. Lila soon joined them.

  Paige gave each of them a hug. Saskia tried to smile, but it came out contorted.

  “Are you okay?” Paige asked her. “Post-Cornelius, I mean?” She squeezed Saskia’s hand.

  “Yeah, I guess. Well, not really.”

  “It can’t be easy.”

  Saskia shook her head. “It’s weird to just sleep at night, knowing I won’t see him.”

  “I can relate.”

  “How are you dealing with Sam gone?”

  “I spend all my time trying not to think about him, but thinking about him, anyway.”

  “Yeah, I know all about that.”

  “Paige,” Lila interjected, “why didn’t you guys wait for us at the fence? And why are we here?”

  Paige laughed. “I thought we needed some adventure. The Mercury Boys Club is all about trying new things, right?” From her pocket, she pulled out a jangling ring of keys. “The Arrivo master set. I talked someone into giving them to me.”

  Saskia recalled how easy it had been for the sisters to trick that smarmy tattoo artist, Jimmy. They’d probably used the same technique on some sucker at Arrivo.

  “So the MBC meeting’s officially here?” Lila asked dubiously.

  Paige glanced at her sister. “We thought it would be fun.”

  “Hmm . . . I’d use a different word.”

  “Terrifying,” said Adrienne with a shiver.

  “Or suicidal,” said Lila.

  “I kinda like this place,” Sara Beth retorted, looking around. The whites of her eyes glinted within rings of smoky black shadow. “It’s very Tim Burton.”

  Saskia vaguely recognized the name. She believed Tim Burton was a director. Still, since 99 percent of the movies she watched were at least fifty years old, she had no idea what he’d made. She began to sway, still feeling off-balance, and decided to sit down. She poked her fingers through the open gaps in the metal mesh floor. It was all too easy to imagine the structure gr
oaning, straining, collapsing. Everyone falling. She wondered if they could survive such a thing. She wondered what would happen if they didn’t.

  Rule #15: MBC members will meet body and soul with their Forever Boyfriends in death!!!

  “We’re all together, and that’s what matters—not the place,” said Paige, settling down beside Saskia. “Are you ready to get started?”

  The others nodded and sat down, too. Once Adrienne took attendance, her pen fluttering over the official notebook, Lila revealed to the others that she’d been fired from the library at Western Connecticut State. Now, she confirmed, the girls officially lacked access to the daguerreotypes and mercury.

  “So much bad news,” complained Adrienne. “Sam gone. Lila out of a job. Saskia and Cornelius breaking up. It sucks.”

  There came a moment of silence, each girl lost in her own head. Then Paige said, “I’m afraid I’ve got more bad news.”

  Saskia’s first thought was that Paige had new information on Samuel. Maybe he’d been hurt since joining the Royal Navy. Maybe his ship had gone down. Maybe, god forbid, he’d died. Was that how Samuel Pendleton had lost his life—drowning at sea? And if so, would Paige ever be able to visit him again, or was this the end?

  Saskia’s mind spun. There was still so much about the Mercury Boys they didn’t understand.

  She was still considering the possibilities when Paige looked at her curiously. “What’s going on, Sask? You look preoccupied.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Thinking about Cornelius?” Paige asked gently.

  Saskia looked away. If she started talking about Cornelius, chances were she’d start crying—and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “It’s okay,” Paige assured her. “You don’t have to talk . . .”

  “Thanks,” Saskia murmured.

  “But I’m sorry to say the bad news does have to do with you.”

  Saskia wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly. “What?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, it does,” Paige confirmed. She had the courteous but firm voice of a flight attendant telling someone to put on her seat belt. “Why don’t you tell us about your last conversation with Adrienne?”