In Memory

Home > Other > In Memory > Page 6
In Memory Page 6

by CJ Lyons


  He followed me slowly, taking each step deliberately, as if trying not to fall. Wondered if I should offer my arm as a support to him, but never followed through, knowing he probably wouldn’t accept it anyway.

  (I didn’t need to go to my locker, since I always take my backpack to English, cause it’s the last class.)

  As soon as we left the school, he tripped on the low step out the main door, and nearly stumbled headlong into the bike rack. He did not, however, as I managed to grab his arm and pull him back upright.

  He winced visibly at my touch; now I know why he’s always hesitant to let people touch him. No doubt I would aggravate the inevitable defensive wounds he had sustained after returning home early.

  He glanced up at me after regaining himself, looking apologetic.

  Bit my lip, debating on doing what impulse commanded. Gave in to its demands; tentatively, I reached for him and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. I did so bracingly, but loosely enough that I didn’t put pressure on any of his wounds.

  Upon touching him, (my hand brushed the back of his neck) a tumult of emotion washed over me, into me, became a part of me.

  I was crying inside, screaming for help, but it never reached my voice. It rose and fell in my chest, this weird surging frustration, it almost made me want to throw up. Tasted blood in my mouth, from where I was biting my lip to suppress screaming.

  He looked at me, his usually impassive face tweaked with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “How…?” I began, searching his pale blue iris, “How do you manage?”

  He looked confused until I elaborated, “This pain, you feel it all the time,” I held my hand to my chest, “How can you stand there like that?”

  The usual expressionless look. He surveyed me evenly, before replying with his eyes downcast, “I don’t remember feeling any differently.”

  This floored me. He… felt like that all the time? That roiling, shrieking agony was all he could remember?

  Fathoming this made me want to cry.

  I did start to cry, (my damn empathy). Felt a hot tear roll down my cheek, and watched his eyes follow it down, dropping rapidly as it fell from my jaw.

  His gaze remained downcast, and he slowly pulled away from me.

  Couldn’t move. Couldn’t even speak. The pain was still surging through me, pulsating angrily in every drop of blood.

  He began to walk away, and I remained immobile, staring after him.

  Follow him, call to him, reach for him, go to him! My mind roared at me, forcing me to move.

  Dashed forward, catching his arm and pulling him into an awkward hug. My hand touched his neck, and I felt those horrible emotions renew in my chest, followed by a refreshing surge of both happiness and surprise.

  ‘He followed me…’

  His thoughts permeated my mind, the soft lilt like anaesthetic to the harsh emotions.

  Held him against me, letting the new, less painful emotions seep into me, breathing a sigh of relief as that horrible pain relinquished its grip on me.

  After about thirty seconds, I pulled away, smiling as I noticed the small blush on his face and his hesitance to let me go.

  I turned, indicating the way we should go. He followed beside me, holding the strap of his black shoulderbag.

  We walked in companionable silence for a block, when he stopped.

  “What’s up?” I asked, stopping beside him.

  “I… have to…” he stepped backwards, staring past me.

  “Eh? What?”

  “I have to go. Just-” he turned, breaking into a run.

  I stared after him for a couple seconds, thrown by the abruptness of what he just did. I followed after him, running full pelt after him.

  “Hey! Why are you running away!?”

  He sped up, running up the hill on Sherlock Street.

  I tried to catch him, I really did.

  Unfortunately, I am not in shape for that sort of running, and I soon lost sight of him.

  Huffing and puffing, I walked back to where we were when he ran away, passing a couple of the guys in my class. I nodded a hello to them, brushing my hair out of my face.

  They sort of glowered at me, I’m assuming this is their way of looking tough and aloof or something.

  So I just walked home by myself. Sigh.

  I was going to make rigatoni too. Maybe I’ll just make macaroni and cheese.

  SIGH!

  153 Days, 27 September, Saturday

  So I went to the grocery store today, and there I ran into Ruth again. She asked me how I was doing, you know, the polite little old lady general greeting.

  After exchanging pleasantries for a little while, she asked me quite a compelling question.

  She asked me quite bluntly if I would consider being a nude model for her drawing class. Apparently, there is a huge shortage of models available to draw in the city, and they all happen to be women. Also, male models are more in demand for some reason.

  At the time, I sort of gaped, and blushed and then stammered something like “I’ll think about it.”

  Did a little research on it, and it seems that nude models get paid pretty well to just sit around for hours. Guess the pay comes from allowing people to ogle you for said hours and record their interpretation of your nakedness on paper.

  Think I may end up going for it. I mean, they’re little old ladies, it’s not like they’ve never seen a guys junk before, right? Plus, it’s only a couple hours a week, and it could really help with buying groceries and paying utility bills.

  However, I don’t think I’ll let Terra know about it, at least for the time being. She may not approve of me stripping down for large groups of people.

  Haha, I just read how that must have appeared. Will not be a stripper, just a model. There’s a fine line. No pole dancing. Hahaha.

  So out of all the groceries I got today, only the milk wasn’t on sale. Milk is never on sale at this store, it’s like a law.

  When I got home, Terra greeted me at the door, and helped me with the groceries, because, as usual, I bought way too much.

  But they were on sale. I love sales.

  We stayed in tonight and watched movies. And we ordered pizza, which was great. We usually don’t, so I asked what the special occasion was.

  “Because I love you and I owe you.” She answered, obviously making reference to our conversation last week.

  “Owe me for what?”

  “You got the tomato sauce stain out of my white blouse and I have a date tomorrow. So endless thanks, lovely brother!”

  We laughed about that for a while, and I fell asleep on the couch before the movie ended. When I woke up, I had a piece of pizza on my head, and she was just about to poke a breadstick up my nose. This resulted in a flail from me and raucous laughter from her.

  Have to say, I really love my sister.

  152 Days, 28 September, Sunday

  Think the very best thing about Sunday is the general acceptance that there really isn’t anything anyone has to do. Stores close, people sleep in, nothing to do. Well, I guess those people who frequent church. Frankly, I figure that Sundays are meant for sleeping in. You know, the whole ‘on the seventh day he rested’ thing. Obviously, we’re supposed to rest on the seventh day, not go out and do stuff.

  On this day I rested. The most ambitious thing I did was make hot chocolate.

  Terra got home at about 11:30, a little bit tipsy, with marinara sauce down the front of her white blouse. She was giggly, and promptly went up to bed. Thought I should go get her blouse, but she probably fell asleep wearing it.

  There goes her nice white blouse then. Oh well. Gonna go to sleep then.

  151 Days, 29 September, Monday

  Noah showed up at lunchtime today, and came to sit with me in the cafeteria. He was wearing a bright white long-sleeved shirt, with a silver chain peeking out from the collar. Weird, I’ve never known him to wear jewellery. But I guess I’ve only known him for a month.

&
nbsp; He sat down, resolutely looking down at the tabletop. I shrugged, and pushed him his part of the lunch I packed today.

  “I must apologise.” He said eventually.

  “Hm?” I swallowed, “For what?”

  “I left you without so much as an explanation. Apparently, that is not something that is considered polite. I apologise.”

  “Hey, no problem.”

  “You forgive me for doing wrong?”

  “Oh, c’mon, ‘doing wrong’? You just had sudden errands or something, right? It’s no big deal, don’t worry about it.”

  “I won’t think of it again, then.”

  “So what did you do all weekend?” I asked, steering the conversation into more casual waters.

  “I read the Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe. It was very interesting.” He paused. “What did you do?”

  “Well, I stayed in, watched movies with Terra.”

  “Who is Terra?”

  “Oh, she’s my older sister. I live with her.”

  “You don’t have parents?”

  “Nope, they died when I still lived overseas.”

  “I guessed that you were from another country. You have a peculiar accent.”

  “Like half-Irish, half-Canadian, right? Yeah… Terra’s is even worse.” I laughed, and he smiled mildly.

  “I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. Terra and I do just fine on our own. I’m really happy with my life.”

  “Do most people accept death so readily, or are you an exception to normal standards?”

  “I’m prolly an exception. Figured it’s nice to see the silver lining in things. For instance, if they didn’t die, I wouldn’t have moved here, and then wouldn’t have met you!”

  “That’s very interesting. You are unique.”

  “Haha, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome to my observations.”

  I chuckled, “That’s good to know.”

  He smiled again, this time it reached his eyes, and delicately picked up his sandwich.

  After English, he walked with me in the hallway to the exit. Was just about to ask him if he wanted to come for dinner tonight, when he spoke first.

  “I am sorry, but I must go to the Elementary School now.”

  “Hm? For what?”

  “I am going to escort my sister home.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister too! What’s her name?”

  “May. She’s in the second grade.”

  “Would you mind if I came along? I’d like to meet her.”

  “…Is this another thing that friends do together?”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “I could say that?” He looked genuinely confused.

  “It’s an expression…?”

  “…I don’t understand it.”

  “Oh well, it’s not important. Shall we?”

  When we got to the Elementary School, there were young kids in school uniforms running around, sitting, and waiting. Looked around for May, despite not knowing what she looked like. Figured she must look something like Noah.

  A girl with brown hair in pigtails watched us closely, she was sitting on the stairs with a book open in her lap. A brown stuffed cat sat beside her. The cat was wearing a pair of glasses.

  She stood up, and stowed her book in her bright red backpack, and picked up her stuffed cat with considerable care. She hurried over to us, beaming.

  “Hi big brother! How are you today?” She was so cheerful. Somehow pictured her being as dark and serious as him. She was like day to his night.

  Noah took her hand, and we began to walk back the way we had just come.

  “We learned how to work with fractions today. I can cut pie into equal portions now. It’s a useful skill for the future, isn’t it, big brother?”

  Okay, they are similar. I have never once in my life heard a seven year old say ‘it’s a useful skill for the future’. They are a peculiar family indeed.

  May turned her big blue eyes to me. “Do you have a friend, big brother? What is his name?”

  “This is Aerie.”

  “Aerian Guildenstern, at you service, milady.” I bowed to her midstep, making her smile brightly.

  “I like him, he has a kind heart. He’s a good friend, brother.”

  These siblings do not talk like normal people.

  “What’s your friend’s name?” I asked, indicating her stuffed cat.

  “This is Car-michael. He is an angel of the lord. He’s just taking a vacation right now. So I’m taking care of him until he’s well-rested.”

  Looked from her to Noah, who didn’t look at all surprised or confused by this statement. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do a fine job. You look very capable.”

  “I am capable. I can even make pasta myself.”

  I laughed a little at this, she’s just so cute.

  We walked a few blocks, with May occasionally telling us about her day, like how Awful Susan in her class broke all the yellow crayons, and how this was a great injustice to the colour.

  “Yellow is a colour that should be respected.” She finished with one hand on her hip and the other pointing at me. “Because it’s a mystical experience shared by everybody.”

  “Uh, um, I hold it in the highest regard.”

  “As you should.”

  Noah turned abruptly, oh, we’re at their house.

  It loomed up before us, all towering trees and iron gates. A place that brings to mind words like estate and manor.

  “Thank you for walking with us.” Noah said, bowing a little.

  “Yes, thank you.” May echoed, bowing the same as him.

  “Yeah, you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

  Noah nodded, beginning his trek up the driveway, holding May’s hand again.

  She let go of his hand when they had been walking a little while, running back to me.

  “Aerian Guildenstern!” She ran up to my side, holding Carmichael close to herself. “Even if brother does not come to school tomorrow, would you walk me home from school?”

  I smiled, “Sure!”

  “Thank you!” She grinned toothily at me, and then ran to catch up with Noah.

  Work today was mostly uneventful, I mostly chopped carrots. I don’t want to see carrots for a least a week now. Blah. Oh well.

  As an afterthought, I think May might have foreshadowed something by asking me to walk her home.

  150 Days, 30 September, Tuesday

  Interestingly enough, as I expected, Noah was not at school today. This was troubling for me in three ways:

  1. He wasn’t there to explain Shakespeare to me

  2. I had twice as much lunch and no one to share it with

  3. When he’s not at school, he always returns with more injuries

  Walked to the Elementary School after English, a little bit annoyed at all the study questions I was required to finish for tomorrow.

  May met me on the stairs, looking intently at me with a weird appraising expression. I smiled, and held my hand out for her to take.

  “Let’s go to the park, Aerian Guildenstern.” It almost sounded more like an order than a request.

  “Sure!” I didn’t mind, I don’t have work until tomorrow. “And you can call me by my first name, you know.”

  “Just Aerian? But that’s not your full name, what if there was confusion with who I was speaking to?”

  “Um, fair point, but I’m pretty sure it’s an unusual name, so you should be safe.”

  “I concur. I’ll call you Aerian then.”

  The park wasn’t far from the school, we were there within a few minutes. She went directly to the swings, and sat down primly.

  “Where’s Carmichael today?” I asked, sitting on the swing beside her.

  “He’s using something different for a vessel today. I left his vessel at home.” She turned to me, “Now, tell me. What are you trying to accomplish by befriending my big brother?”
r />   “That’s kind of a confusing question. I just saw he was alone, so I thought he could use some company.”

  “No one in this town will go near him. He’s cursed. Everyone knows it.”

  Was thrown by her seriousness, smiled nervously before replying, “Well, I think I can deal with it! We’ll be good friends! Forever!” I smiled, hoping it was reassuring.

  She looked down, then looked back at me with a sad gleam in her eyes. “But… you only have 150 days left, right?”

  And then she started to cry.

  Was stunned; it took me a few seconds to regain myself before I tried to comfort her.

  “Hey, I’m not sure about- Wait, I haven’t told anyone but Ceilidh and Terra about that. How do you know about it? And my mother is dead, how do you know?” I stood in front of her swing, holding the chains, “Are you-? Can you see-?”

  She nodded, “I could see it when I touched your hand…” She took a deep breath, “He’s the reason. If you’re friends with him, you’re going to die on the 27th of February. His curse is going to kill you.”

  Guess it’s a definite thing now. I’m going to die on that day.

  September

  /end.

  149 days, 1 October, Wednesday

  Don’t feel motivated to write today. Besides, there’s nothing terribly interesting to report anyway. It seems the only time I have anything worth writing about, it’s about Noah.

  Guess I should be mulling over the fact that he’s cursed, his sister is psychic, and I’m going to die in 149 days. Meh. I just don’t feel like thinking about it.

  148 Days, 2 October, Thursday

  It snowed a little today. I was pretty happy to see it. I like snow. Everything that’s unpleasant can be covered up by snow. Trash heaps and ugly vehicles, and… buildings and things…

  Think I might be catching a cold too. My throat is all acghh.

  147 Days, 3 October, Friday

  Stayed home today, mostly because it was raining when I woke up, and I still feel kind of sick. This equals tea with honey. Lots of tea. Lots of fluids are good for getting rid of a cold.

  It rains really hard in this city. Like crazy pounding-against-the-window-like-a-crazed-monster rain. The whole house shakes, and I am glad for the fireplace and my huge pile of blankets. To be precise, three quilts and a throw.

 

‹ Prev