Speed of Light

by Amber Kizer

  I’m not sure nature takes sides quite like that.

  Tony and Gus laughed. I hadn’t paid any attention to sports teams in the area, so I simply smiled.

  The guide continued. “It’s our centennial year here for the Indianapolis 500. A very important year. Only a World War has canceled the race, and we’ve proudly run the events in all weather and through all accidents. The world keeps spinning and so do the cars folks, always to the left, of course.”

  The bus took us down under the track and up into the garage area. Cars and trucks were parked around another fleet of quads, cats, and tractors.

  “More than a century ago, this was farmland. It belonged to a family named Barnett. We don’t know much about them, except that the last member died without heirs and the farm was made available about the time the automobile market exploded at the turn of the twentieth century. Investors bought the farm and made a track to test out the strange new contraptions called cars.

  “And we’re arriving at the pit area,” the guide said. “This is where the cars get fuel and changed tires. Where the teams make adjustments during practice and at race time. Did you know that last year, the fastest lap in May was two hundred thirty-two miles per hour?”

  I got queasy when Tens hit eighty-five miles per hour on the interstate. Four times that? Uh, no thank you.

  “We get to go into the pits?” Gus asked, sounding like a kid as we piled off the bus.

  Rumi quietly snapped photographs of Gus and Faye interacting. Their smiles are priceless. We all knew this was her last big outing.

  Rallying, Faye stood, all but throwing off the blankets when they wheeled her near the two-seater.

  “I hear we have a special guest driving today?” A salt-and-pepper-haired man with curly locks and larger-than-life charisma marched over holding two helmets.

  “That’s Mario,” Tony whispered to us. Even he was awed.

  Obviously, Mario is a local celebrity. I feel silly not knowing him on sight.

  Fara stood farther back from the group looking like a metalhead without a mosh pit. Watching her, I realized she’d stationed herself on the periphery and was on constant alert. She’s guarding Juliet.

  I was so used to Tens doing the same for me and trying to for Juliet that I took his actions for granted. He’d taken the opposite side from Fara. Careful not to draw attention to the weapons under his arms. Fara, too, must carry. The chains. Knives?

  Faye seemed like her old self, settling into the cockpit of the car as if she’d never been ill and frail. She yanked the helmet down like a pro and gave us a thumbs-up as she listened to Mario point out dials and controls.

  Rumi handed out earplugs. How loud can it really be?

  The track’s announcer constantly updated weather information, track stats, even calling out names and numbers of drivers and their teams over the loudspeaker.

  “Ready?” Mario called. “Wave as we go by!” They started the motor, and I felt the twang in my guts. The noise was so intense I pushed the earplugs deeper.

  I was sure Mario carefully maneuvered the car down the lane and onto the track, but it seemed as if he peeled out and hit the accelerator in one motion.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked Delia.

  “You know better than to ask that. Look at Gus’s face. Did you see how she got into the car so easily? She’s rallying, Meridian. This is common.”

  I nodded. I usually wasn’t around the dying before they were within moments of transitioning. Auntie lay down to nap and didn’t get back up. The people in hospitals I helped were so ill. Their souls hung on by mere threads.

  Faye’s teaching me.

  Behind us, dozens of hot-air balloons lifted off. Baskets full of excited families and spectators rose into the bright blue sky. Their vivid colors and creative artwork from geometric designs to solid swaths of rainbows gave us slow-motion kaleidoscopes above.

  When Mario came around the first time, he slowed so Faye could wave, only a few fingers. I think I heard her squeal with glee.

  They spun the track again and again, each time faster. Our crew cheered and shouted.

  In between passes, I people-watched. The camera for the jumbo screen panned the airborne crowd. The people in the hot-air balloons waved at all of us below. One balloon’s occupants caught my attention. Inside the basket, a figure wore a scarf wrapped over hair and face, with a big floppy hat in black. I squinted, my gut singing for my attention. Is that a man or a woman? Why the subterfuge? Who are the suited men in long-sleeved button-down dress shirts? They seemed to snap photographs from every angle. Press? I put my hand up to shield against the sun’s glare. I needed Tens’s binoculars. The balloon’s design was all black and white, but the basket had an insignia with wings and something like a snuffed out candle. Or a torch? What is that?

  The JumboTron panned again and changed views. Without the zoom, I couldn’t see the group. Can they be Nocti? Ms. Asura? I didn’t have proof, nothing more than a brief glimpse and a bad feeling to ponder as Faye and Mario came around again.

  Word must have passed to race teams and mechanics working today that Faye was living out a last wish, because as her car came around the last time, everyone stopped what they were doing and walked to line the pits. Between the low cement walls, they formed a human tunnel, clapping and giving Faye high fives as Mario drove her slowly between them and back to us.

  Her eyes danced with delight, and her lips stretched from one side of the infield to the other.

  Tens joined me as we loaded back into the bus. I tried to find the weird balloon again but couldn’t. “Did you see the balloon with the guys in suits and the person in the scarf and hat?” I asked under my breath.

  He shook his head. “I was watching the stands and the traffic behind us. Why?”

  “Thought it might be Nocti. Maybe Ms. Asura.”

  “In a hot-air balloon? Here?” He frowned.

  Tony heard us and leaned in. “Probably press. Sounds like foreign journalists. We get a lot of them. Hot-air balloons give them a unique experience to write about. Should we ask someone?”

  “No. No.” I didn’t know who we’d ask or how’d we explain who I thought I saw.

  “I brought your favorites.” Nelli laid a spread before us in Faye’s kitchen that smelled of spice, seafood, and the bayou of Louisiana country.

  I was glad no one assumed Juliet would be in charge of dinner for all of us. Though she was fierce in the kitchen, I worried Juliet might begin to feel used by us for her culinary skills if we counted on her cooking every time.

  Juliet closed her eyes, inhaling. I think she’d probably be able to name the ingredients for me in every dish, especially after Faye passed.

  “Mudbugs?” Faye clapped, naming her favorite restaurant.

  Fara grabbed a napkin and a hot hush puppy. She handed the bundle quietly to Juliet with a smile that seemed to understand.

  “Best in town.” Nelli kissed Faye’s cheek.

  Plates were piled high with cheesy crawfish casserole, shrimp étouffée, jambalaya, gumbo, red beans and dirty rice. Hush puppies, with bits of corn and a hint of sweet, cooled down my mouth along with pickle-full potato salad. The salty goodness of freshly fried potato chips added texture to the feast. There were even boiled crawfish that Gus took great delight in sucking the innards out of. He can have those.

  Juliet tried everything. No one spoke as we all ate as fast as we could. Sighs of contentment were punctuated with Rumi’s exclamations of, “The étouffée is sipid! This is kickshaw; you must taste! I’ve eaten so much I’ll have the collywobbles later.”

  “There are beignets for dessert, so leave room,” Nelli said, carefully keeping lemonade and iced tea flowing.

  I noticed Faye picked at her food. She moved it around her plate with feigned enthusiasm. She barely ate three bites. According to Rumi, she usually ate the entire menu from Mudbugs in one sitting. Not a good sign. Delia noticed my study and nodded at me. We see the same thing.
/>
  Over fresh black coffee, Faye motioned to Delia, who stood and asked us to listen. I knew there was an announcement coming, but that didn’t take special superpowers, simply logical deduction.

  “We decided against this, Faye.” Gus shook his head. Today’s activities gave his cheeks color that this conversation quickly leached back out.

  “Today was tops, but merely a reprieve from the inevitable.” Faye touched his hand.

  I glanced around. This couldn’t be about the wedding, could it?

  While Gus muttered, Faye took a handful of pills and Delia gave her a shot. “My friends, it’s time,” Faye said.

  Gus blanched. “You’ll die in your home, Faye.”

  “No, I won’t. You’re burdened by me.”

  “I’m devoted to you. There is no burden,” he fought.

  “I disagree. This is killing you as much as it is me.”

  “May I?” Delia gently inserted between the two.

  Faye and Gus both nodded acceptance.

  “It’s not about love or devotion. Faye’s body is deteriorating rapidly, and I’d like to ask her a question. I’d like you all to listen to her answer. Faye, are we able to fully control your pain and discomfort?”

  “No. As much as Gus keeps track of the pills and shots, it’s no longer enough. And when I can’t sleep, he doesn’t either.”

  “And the tightness in your chest. Is that bothering you?” Delia took notes, but I saw she already knew the answers.

  “Yes, it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. The cough is adding to my pain.”

  “The cancer is in your bones, your ribs, so when you cough, those bones react. You might cough and break your ribs.”

  “But you said she could stay in her home with hospice help.” Gus stood and marched around the room, picking up music-related knickknacks and putting them down without seeing them.

  “Help, yes, for you, but we’ve reached the place where we need to have her on an IV, soon a catheter. We need to monitor her constantly to keep her comfortable. The best way to do that is to admit her to the inpatient facility.”

  “There’s a bed available, Gus,” Faye said quietly.

  He bowed in front of her and clasped her hands. “I’ll try harder. You just have to tell me what to do.”

  “I am.” Faye smoothed his hair. “You need to be with me, spend time with me, talk to me. Let them worry about my body while you worry about my heart and take care of it. Okay?” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

  Gus’s grief overflowed and he hung his head.

  “I’ve already talked to Dolores and she doesn’t understand,” Faye said. “I need you to understand. I was going to tell you yesterday, but I didn’t want to ruin the track today. The freedom … That’s what I realized in that car. This body of mine has gotten creaky and stiff—it doesn’t react the way it used to—but inside I’m still the same girl I was when I chased after boys and swam in the lake for hours.” To us, she said, “You forget, because it’s so slow and gradual, how much these bodies can fail. Until a moment like today, when the wind was in my face and stealing my laughter from my belly. I will be glad to leave this body behind. Death will be freedom.”

  Gus cried silently, wiping tears from his cheeks in angry swipes of tissue.

  “Would you like help packing?” I asked, bending low to her.

  She shook her head. “Delia took care of that already. I don’t need much.”

  I glanced around Faye’s house. She’d been parceling out her belongings since the diagnosis. But there was still an awful lot of stuff here. She needed none of it now. Sheet music and porcelain figurines, mingled with cases of instruments and old vinyl records, competed with stacks of books.

  Faye held out her hands to Juliet and me. “But you can do something, Meridian, Juliet. Can you promise me you’ll be with me? You’ll carry me across?”

  “Of course. We will. At least one of us will be with you,” I said.

  Juliet nodded her head as well.

  Faye’s eyes shadowed as she gazed at Gus, at the walls around her, as if seeing them for the last time. Or the first time.

  “Why don’t we call it a night and let you and Gus have time?” Tony rose. “You’ll call when you’re settled and we’ll come.”

  As we walked out, I tugged Juliet aside in the gardens, mostly overgrown with weeds. “Are you okay?” She’d grown paler and stopped sneaking beignets.

  She struggled for words. “It’s just so familiar. Sitting and waiting for someone to die.” Juliet’s voice broke and she flinched on each syllable.

  I’m a bitch.

  “I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry.” Of course this was so much more her norm than mine. How do I fix this? “I can handle it alone. If that would help? You don’t have to be there. Everyone will understand.”

  Juliet shivered and gave nothing away. “It’s fine. She’s been good to me. Why wouldn’t I be there? But it makes me think of”—she paused and swallowed—“all the people I’ve loved and said goodbye to.”

  “Did you grow close to the dying at DG?” I asked carefully, hoping she’d share. Only Mini’s intervention near Juliet’s sixteenth birthday kept her from getting tangled in the dying’s energy. It was no wonder Juliet shielded herself from us. Caring equals hurting in her world.

  “After a while, I tried not to. I tried not to care. To focus on the kids more than the elderly. But I had favorites. They taught me things.” She twisted her cuticles and snagged hangnails as she talked.

  “Like what?” I liked this side of Juliet. Having a conversation with her. Talking about DG was something she rarely allowed. Please keep talking. Please let me in!

  “Well …” She paused and shook off the moment. My chance gone, she merely shrugged and said, “Silly things.”

  “Oh, but—” I saw Tony walking toward us. So close!

  “Juliet, we need to go!” Tony called, oblivious that he’d offered her escape yet again. I wondered what would happen when Juliet could no longer run. Will she crack? Will she become a force for herself? Will I be here to see that day?

  I watched her rush away and leaned against the shed behind Faye’s gardens. At once, I was at the window beside a tall man with scars crisscrossing his arms and chest like railroad tracks.

  Rags hung from his body, and the whites of his eyes were big in a face full of angles and bones. He gazed beyond. I saw a giraffe wander by, and the savannah flowed endlessly beyond the horizon. Somewhere a lion roared welcome.

  He said something I didn’t understand; I pointed through the window. “Home—go on.”

  I wondered if he was one of the escaped slaves who had gone through here on the Underground Railroad. He’s been waiting for home, here in this garden, for a century and a half.

  I began to turn away when a voice called, “Meridian!”

  “Howie?” Dressed in clean clothes that were the vibrant twins of his earlier outfit, he looked at me with eyes that were clear hazel and a face that was whole. I hadn’t seen him at the window since we’d buried him and prayed over him.

  “You can see!” I yelled.

  His handsome face was unblemished and younger.

  “I’m free! Thank you. I’m heading home now. For real.” He leapt upon the back of an elephant and waved as they walked out of my sight.

  “Meridian? Merry? Supergirl?” Tens bracketed my face and peered into my eyes. “Where’d you go?”

  “Africa?” I smiled.

  CHAPTER 18

  Juliet

  Fara paced the outlines of the room. “You have to give it back to Rumi.”

  “I know. How?” I shook my head. “And tell Ms. Asura what? She’ll come after all of them.” And never tell me about my parents.

  “You cannot protect us all. You have to stop trying. You are not alone in this world.”

  I knew Fara had more to say. I braced for it when a car honked below. “That’s Nelli,” I said.

  Fara closed her mouth, then simply
picked up her hobo bag, slung it over her shoulder, and waited at the door for me. As I brushed past her, I smelled cumin, oregano, and candied lemon peels.

  The statues all over Carmel’s Art and Design District were creepy on the best day. A policeman directed imaginary traffic. A dad helped a kid ride a bike. A street musician played silent sonatas with a very open, very fake violin case at his feet. They watch me. Judging. The same way Mistress could see and hear everything at DG. I was afraid to look at the statues directly in case they, too, could read my thoughts and report back.

  It was silly. Childish. Irrational. As many times as I told myself they were fake, I couldn’t shake the feeling. They are art. Doesn’t matter.

  “Change of plans,” Nelli greeted us. “Bales found another set of remains in a completely different area of town. Do you want to go with me, stay here, or sort papers without me? Meridian and Tens are meeting me there.”

  Stay here. I glanced at Fara, who gave me no clues as to what she wanted. “Your choice.” She shrugged.

  “We’ll go with you,” I said.

  Nelli nodded. “Do you feel okay? You look a little pale.”

  “I’m fine.” No, I can’t sleep and food appeals only intermittently. Someone is watching me all the time. I keep dreaming of Kirian calling for me. I don’t know if I’m going crazy or if he’s really trying to reach out. “Fine,” I repeated, trying to force strength into my voice.

  Nelli stayed silent as if she didn’t believe me and judged my lies.

  “These bones belong to one of your missing?” Fara asked, touching my arm daintily as if to reassure me.

  I inhaled.

  “We don’t know. I think so. The file’s description matches a name Howie mentioned to Meridian. Hopefully one of you can pick up on something if the little girl’s soul is still around,” Nelli said.

  “It’s a girl?” I asked.

  “We don’t know yet. I just hate using impersonal pronouns to describe the unknown dead. Feels icky to me.” Nelli shuddered.