by Ri, Xesin
She dumped the items from the purse into the drawer. Tiny necklaces, rings, paper rings, earrings, shorter love notes, coins that had meaning, a last cigarette, and a mess of other offerings from those that were not Nicolas covered the long note about the shattered boy and the dragon who would not call.
She shut the drawer, only taking away the empty purse and the gun box. Everything else was locked away again, trapped and boarded up away from her.
But Nicolas’s effect froze time again. Even as she carried the gun up the stairs, even as she put away the hammer and the crowbar, even as she cleaned and checked the gun, she found that time was stuck there in the moment she saw the note she’d not had the strength to destroy; but it was worse than that—time was winding back to the time when he gave her the note. The last time he’d spoken to her face-to-face.
Keira took apart the gun despite the fact time wasn’t moving. A bird outside chirped, and a siren marking the start of the corn festival’s parade tried to signal time despite a letter being dropped on a desk six years earlier by a broken boy. She’d done that. She smiled a little. She set to cleaning the gun to make sure it would work if she needed it.
The front door opened just after she’d finished cleaning her gun and putting it back together. She quickly stashed it in the Red Purse of Doom. The cleaning agents were already back in the garage.
Things looked normal and the television was on when her stepfather came around the corner.
“Hi there,” he said, taking a quick look around the room. “Elizabeth said you’d shown up.”
Kiera got up and gave a big hug to her stepfather. “It’s really good to see you, Reilly.”
“I thought you would look different, but somehow you are exactly right. Did you get anything to eat?”
“Yeah, I had some chips and a beer of yours.”
“Good, good,” said Reilly. “Are you washing something in the machine?”
“Just some of my clothes. I’ve been on the road a whole lot.”
“You don’t look it. You look like you’ve been good.”
Kiera just nodded and said, “Thanks.”
Reilly walked into the laundry room and paused the machine just to see what was really inside. He took a moment to see what the items were. Satisfied, he returned after starting the machine back up. “Those all yours?”
“No, I borrowed a dress from Elizabeth. Everything else is mine.”
“Good, good,” said Reilly. “Did you ask Elizabeth if you could borrow a dress?”
“I did.”
“Good, good,” said Reilly. “Your mother is gone down to Mexico to visit her sister. I’m actually going to follow her in a few days. Your aunt is ill. She may move in here with the three of us. Were you thinking of staying long?”
“No, just a little while. I’ve got money, and I’m probably going to be able to get a job and a place to live pretty soon; so I’m good.”
“I’ve got to ask—“
“No, I didn’t bring any of that into your house. I don’t really do that anymore. I’ve grown up a lot. Things are different.”
“Good, good,” said Reilly. “And when someone calls looking for you, the right name for them to ask for would be?”
“Kiera. Any other name would be someone who doesn’t really want to talk to me.”
“Okay. The house is the same. The security code is four nines and then star, one and then enter, got it?”
“Four nines, star, one, enter.”
“Right. So, I guess I will see you after the parade. Daddy’s got to see his happy little girl be this year’s corn queen.”
Kiera smiled. “She looked very pretty, Reilly.”
“I’m going broke buying that girl clothes, and your mom isn’t helping much either.”
“What do you expect with a house full of women? We need our accessories.”
“Alright, I’ll be back. Be safe.”
After Reilly left, she sat back down on the couch; the house seemed even quieter than before. She thought there was little threat while it was still daylight. Along with all the traffic, by foot and by car, outside the house, she felt pretty good that things were nearing okay. And she had her gun lubed and ready to rock.
The washing machine buzzed a superloud buzz nearly shaking Kiera’s confidence.
“Shit,” she said standing up and then going to the machine and taking up the wet things and tossing them into the dryer. She turned the machine on. Running, the machine was louder than the washer and filled the whole house with a knocking noise like someone slowly walking a heavy lamp up wooden stairs, lifting and dropping the lamp’s base again and again.
Kiera leafed through a magazine.
She drank a little more beer.
Time headed on towards seven.
Nobody had yet returned.
Kiera took another cold beer from the fridge and her heavy red purse with her as she opened up the backdoor and wandered out into her mother’s garden.
She cracked open the beer. She tore off the aluminum tab and tossed it out into a patch of clover in the corner. She stopped.
“Why the hell did I do that?”
She sipped the beer as she tried her best to find the beer tab. Her red bag scared her when it slipped a little and jolted when she caught it. The gun stayed quiet inside. The little tab was right there beneath her right foot. She reached out with her toes and picked up the tab, clutching it in her toes; then, using her foot, she threw it back with a kick at the door of the house where it landed next to the green backdoor on some rocks under the spigot.
She sat down on a flat rock in her mother’s garden and looked around her. Her mother had planted even more climbers that grew up the house and also the seven-foot-high fence that surrounded the place. The climbers made you feel hemmed in by nature. But, fortunately, there were three trees. Two were thin trees with big leaves and long branches reaching high above the house. The other was a young evergreen that was probably nice when the snow was thick in January.
As she admired the sitting rocks, the nice bench, and the greenery of her mother’s garden, Kiera wondered what her mother had been doing last January when the evergreen was the only stitch of color out here.
A noise from the other side of the fence caught Kiera’s attention. Someone was walking over there. The person or persons tried the back gate. Kiera reached into her purse and drew the gun. She sat off to the side in the shadow of the fence. The black head that popped up over the top of the fence never seized upon her presence. Two black hands and then one whole black man came over the fence and dusted himself off. The light wasn’t perfect. He didn’t look dangerous but dangerous looking really wasn’t likely to be the best way to spot a killer whose main strategy might be blending in. Kiera aimed. The man crossed the backyard. He looked young. No one followed him. There wasn’t anyone calling out for him to open the gate. He paused and waited. Then he checked his phone. He seemed to shake his head like something was wrong. He noticed Kiera.
“Who are you?” he said.
Kiera waited a moment, noticing he wore a tight shirt and that there was no place for a gun or anything like that. “Who are you?” he demanded. He put his hands up high seeing the gun was real. “This is the Young’s house. I think you should just get out of here.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Who am I? I’m Markus. I got home early from vacation with my family and came here to surprise Elizabeth. Her friends were supposed to be her to let me in. You aren’t one of her friends. So who are you?”
Kiera held the gun steady. “I’m her stepsister. I got in today. She didn’t mention a boyfriend coming over.”
“Are you listening? This is a surprise. Her friends were going to let me in, but as usual, Jessica can’t keep time.”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen,” he said. “Can I put my hands down? Are we good?”
“How old is Elizabeth?”
“She’s sixteen. Seventeen in November.
”
The backdoor opened.
“Markus, who are you talking to?” asked Hilary.
Kiera dropped the gun down and quickly stowed it away.
“Is there someone over there?” asked Hilary.
“It’s me,” said Kiera. “I was just talking to Markus. He surprised me while I was resting; he spooked me.” Kiera walked over to Markus. “I’m sorry. You’ve got to admit it wasn’t my fault.”
“Not my fault either.” Markus looked at Hilary. “She’s got a gun.”
“Do you?” asked Hilary.
“No. It’s just a squirt gun. Looks real. Isn’t.”
“Don’t go pulling the trigger at me to prove it isn’t,” said Markus.
Hilary stared at Kiera with wonder.
Markus clapped getting Hilary’s attention. “Is she here?”
“Just about,” said Hilary.
Markus stomped past Hilary going inside.
Hilary followed him.
Kiera wanted to stay in her mother’s garden, but the serenity she sought was gone.
Kiera picked up the aluminum tab from under the spigot and went inside the house.
Markus stared at Kiera as she passed him. She avoided his eyes and went and got her clothes out of the dryer which seemed slow to completely dry her things.
She put on the damp dress. She changed her things from her black purse to the old red purse. She got out her make-up. She quickly added peach blush to her cheeks; red and black eyeliner; a glittery, pale shade of lavender to her lids; and a pale pink to her lips. She found some earrings that looked sharp like shards. She added a few rings with just the right colors. She wore a single bangle.
Her purse was heavy with her little wallet and the little gun as she lifted it off the bathroom counter.
She stepped into her boots. They had been Raewyn’s shiny boots, but now they were Kiera’s shiny boots. She was proud of the fact she hadn’t had to pawn them yet.
Markus stared at her as she exited the bathroom. There was a hint of surprise and interest easily detected by the way his shoulders woke up as she sat down on the couch.
Hilary sat on the couch slowly going through the channels.
“Aren’t you staying for Elizabeth’s return?” asked Hilary noticing Kiera’s outfit.
“No. I’ve got someone I’ve got to talk to.”
Markus paid close attention to this. Kiera was about to deflect another question when Hilary turned to the news.
“The high hydrocarbon corn crops have been and will be heavily regulated over the next few years due—“
“Go back,” said Kiera.
“What? To the news?”
“Yes.”
The woman continued, “—only one major h. h. grower appears to have, due to highly coincidental circumstances, been able to survive the new, and very strong, very harsh new laws designed to protect the environment. That grower is Ray Synad. Viewers may remember him from the silo explosion that killed five on one of his farms last October. He is now at the center of a serious and intense investigation by the EPA, among other agencies, that is trying to figure out how he was able to avoid the new laws regarding h. h. corn and the land it and its special blend of fertilizers pollutes. Protesters have been out in front of his Aurora, Illinois offices now for two weeks demanding his company complies with the laws as they are set forth…“
“Why would he? He would lose everything,” said Kiera.
Markus walked over. He stayed far from Kiera’s side of the couch, watching her with the corner of his eye, and hovering behind Hilary. Kiera couldn’t tell if his eyes were focused on her red purse or her crossed legs.
The news showed a picture of Ray Synad.
“Wow, I thought he’d be bigger,” said Markus.
Kiera listened to the news reporter continue to talk about “…the troubles and crimes happening on Synad properties…” when it struck her.
“Why did you think he’d be bigger?” she asked Marcus.
“My dad’s always talking about that guy. Hates his guts, I guess. But since we’re moving out of Illinois because of my dad’s job, I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“Your dad talks about Ray Synad?”
“Yep,” said Markus. “When he gets calls about things. Dad’s a lobbyist, sort of. He’s a lawyer and a businessman, but he also works directly to get things to happen. At least, that’s what he tells me. He cheats on my mom too, so who knows.”
Hilary looked at Kiera with a look that wondered what to say or do.
“That’s terrible,” said Kiera. “What’s your dad’s name?”
“Eugene Mist.”
“Your dad is Eugene Mist? The author of ‘ADD’s Compliance with Future High Hydrocarbon Corn Industry Consolidations?’”
“I guess. I don’t really know all about what my dad does.”
“It was all in that news article. People lost their land because of it,” said Kiera.
“Dad said it wasn’t like that. He says he kept jobs here. Kept the commodities market here rather than going to New York where some wanted it to go.”
“Hey,” said Hilary jumping into the conversation. “Isn’t that what caused what happened to the Wents.”
Markus shook his head.
“Yeah,” said Hilary. “Their farm went under. EPA and all that, like that Synad guy from what the news just said. That happened to them. Did that Synad guy have something to do with them losing their land?”
“Yes,” said Markus.
“No,” said Kiera. “His dad was responsible,” she said, looking right at Markus.
“No, my dad told me that it wasn’t just him. He worked with a lot of people. From what he said and what the news has been saying, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that this happened to so many people. It was a craze that got out of hand.”
“H. h. isn’t a craze. It isn’t the newest dance move. It is a genetically engineered and bred corn product designed to replace crude oil so that gasoline, plastics and God knows what else wouldn’t go the way of the dinosaur as China and the United States soak up every last drop of oil consuming and creating the things that satisfy the demands and needs of the human world.”
“I’m not a chemist. I don’t know. Capitalism works and things go on. They’ll get new jobs,” said Markus.
“Get new jobs?” said Hilary. “They lost their land, Markus. The Wents can’t pay. The EPA put up hazards all over their farm after their h. h. crop caught fire and burned. Everyone knows about that. They aren’t allowed inside their own house.”
“My dad didn’t do that. He doesn’t work for the EPA.”
Kiera stood up. “I’ve got to go. I hope everything goes well with Elizabeth.”
“Oh, okay. Bye,” said Hilary.
Both Hilary and Markus watched Kiera leave. Both of them a little confused why she just left so quickly.
Kiera got out of the house in a hurry. She had to. She was actually hot, and she was about to say stupid things to the son of an ADD principle agent.
She started her walk towards the taco place halfway between the downtown area and Nicolas’s home.
Eugene Mist, she thought, must work at the college not far from town. There were a small number of black people in town. Likely, Mr. Mist had the money to choose to get out of the city so that his kids didn’t grow up too close to the ills the city would have to offer a young black kid. Guns were basically outlawed, but still, kids got killed on the South Side. And the surrounding suburbs weren’t exactly the safest places either. Going farther south and a little bit east, near the Indiana border, near a college, in a town with several big banks that helped finance loans for the surrounding communities was an interesting getaway for a black Republican looking to escape Chicago’s political hold. Why he didn’t just cross the border and get into Indiana was something she couldn’t quite guess. There were too many whys.
And how long until she ran into Eugene Mist. What would she say? Could she avoid getting angry and telling him that
she was happy she was the one who exposed his work to the world. That she helped stop him from destroying Ray Synad.
Ahead, Nicolas walked with a big plastic cup full of soda in one hand and a bag full of Mexican style fast-food in the other.
“Hi there,” said Kiera when he approached.
He stopped. He looked and saw a bench. He sat down on the bench and opened up his Mexican style fast-food. He casually covered this and that bit in hot sauce provided by the Mexican style fast-food restaurant.
He wore a shirt ripped to tatters over a one hundred fifty dollar polo shirt. He had no tattoos. He had no piercings. His hair was shaggy and brown, and Kiera imagined its smell to be of books and the cleanest dust in the world.
He didn’t invite her to sit.
She stood eight feet from him.
He looked her over once while sipping some of his soda.
“Funny I should run into you. You know where I live. You also know my patterns. I thought I was less predictable. Maybe you were right that I’m not very spontaneous. Of course, I’m not spontaneous except when I know everything I need to know, but you always make that impossible. I cannot guess what this meeting is supposed to accomplish after our meeting you this morning. I look forward to your opening statements, Aeon.”
“Aeon? Aeon Flux?”
“Yes, except even Aeon got to kiss Trevor once in awhile.”
“Nicolas,” she said his name and heard her own frustrations sinking in already. He was pushing her already. “Why did you say that?”
“Your hair, jet-black, tucked back and then the ends coming forward. The bangs aren’t really right, but your body is long and right.”
Kiera found herself tucking her hair back behind her right ear, wishing she could see herself at the moment.