Both of Me

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Both of Me Page 9

by Jonathan Friesen


  “At first glance.”

  “And second and third and —”

  “Kira.”

  “Well, look at him.”

  Elias stood, his hands folded, and his eyes sad.

  “Yes.” I smiled. “Look at him.”

  Kira sighed. “Okay, out with it. What can little old me possibly provide for you?”

  “My money and your car.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Kira wandered to her desk and extracted a biology text from the bottom of a textbook stack. As she raised the book, an oversized envelope fell to the floor.

  “You kept that much money in a biology text?” I swiped the envelope off the carpet and lifted the flap.

  Kira glanced from me to Elias and cocked her head. “Safest place to store any valuable. Nobody here opens that book.” She reached out and messed up Elias’s hair. He immediately tried to flatten it down. “Something about him though . . . When I cashed out your account, it was at fifteen thousand dollars. What are you writing on that site, anyway? And stop counting — it’s all there.”

  I stood and approached her. “Now, a question about your car —”

  “No,” said Kira.

  “I would take fine care of it.”

  “No.”

  I glanced at the money in my hands. “Fine then, what’s it worth?”

  Kira peeked at my money as well. “It’s a nice car.”

  I peeled off seven thousand dollars in crisp one hundreds, and shook the bills in her face. “Seven thousand, cash. Would you sell it to me?”

  “A classic, really.”

  “It’s rubbish, but I won’t argue. Nine thousand.”

  “How would I get around without it?”

  “Ten.”

  “Seriously?” Kira snapped. “Done. I would’ve sold it for seven, but after the last few days . . .” She stretched out her hand and I filled it with dollars. Her eyes widened and she pointed over her shoulder at the key hanging on the wall. “She is all yours, honey. Steering is a little splashy, but she’ll get you where you need to go, which is . . .”

  Kira glanced at me. I glanced at Elias.

  Elias glanced at the key.

  “You did it,” he said, a look of awe on his face.

  “Yes. I purchased you a getaway vehicle. Against all better judgment.”

  But judgment no longer mattered. To the Other One, the answer would always be yes. Yes to an insane journey. Yes to ten thousand for a car. I’d spent my years, and the past handful of months, running from what I’d done, only to discover pieces of my greatest shame leaking out of Elias’s mind and onto the page for the world to see. To find out how much he knew, to regain my sense of privacy? No price was too high.

  Kira blinked and stashed her money inside a physiology text. “May I have a word with you?”

  I pushed Elias down onto the bed. “Stay right here. In this room. I need to go speak to my friend.”

  We left Elias and slipped out into craziness. The hall was filled with students performing some strange chant. Kira pointed down and I nodded. We didn’t find peace until we were on the front lawn. There, I explained the mission I had been conscripted into.

  “He’s cute. The curly blond hair, those eyes, the rest of him.” Kira shook her head. “No doubt about that, but you’re the smart one. You’re brighter than this. You don’t know him. It doesn’t sound like you know where you’re going. I mean, who just up and takes off?” She rolled her eyes. “Besides you, but that was months ago. You don’t kidnap a guy who’s not all there.”

  “Actually, there’s twice as much to him as there is to the rest of us. Do you remember the address you took me to from the airport?”

  “The Loring Park joint.”

  “Tomorrow, I need this hand delivered to Guinevere.” I handed her a letter. “Tell her I’ll bring Elias back as soon as I can. Tell her that he was determined to leave, that he was going and I was worried, so I went with him and I’ll do everything I can.”

  “I have no car to deliver this with.”

  “Find Drew . . . just find a vehicle. But I want it done in person. Tell Guinevere how Elias looked. That we’re just fine and he’s not kidnapped or gone missing. Well, he is missing, but tell her he’s with me, and I’ll sort it all out and get him back.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Kira took hold of both my hands. “Will we get time? Just you and me?”

  “When I get back. Yes.”

  The pounding music suddenly cut, and for an instant the entire house fell silent. Then angry shouts rang out from inside.

  “Elias.” I ran toward the door with Kira close behind. I sprinted up the steps, and gasped.

  There he stood, perched on top of the six-foot speaker, its frayed cord in his left hand while he gestured with his right.

  “Look around you! You’re making a mess of the place!”

  A plastic beer cup bounced off his face, and the party cheered. Elias wiped his eyes with his sleeves and continued. “Citizens of Salem! Your queen has sent me to you, and your smiles don’t fool me. You’re not happy living like this!”

  The moment was surreal. A sometimes-autistic young man with two identities lecturing a room full of zombies on feelings and reality. I pushed through the crowd. “Elias, get down.”

  Too late. In the dark of the room, large shapes grabbed Elias and hauled him from his perch. They hoisted him and his bag above their heads and passed him toward the door. Voices raised, but none belonged to Elias. He alone seemed a calm center of this storm.

  I jostled to my left and clutched Elias’s leg as he passed overhead.

  “Enough, you bloomin’ idiots!” I screamed, shoving and clearing space with my free hand. “Set him down. Set him —”

  A large body collided with mine and I fell backward.

  I felt my head strike the floor, but remembered nothing after.

  “Hey, Clara.”

  My eyelids fluttered open. Kira and Elias sat one on either side, and above me shone the stars, unusually bright for the city. My body ached and my head throbbed. My mind searched for the last time I’d received such a smearin’, and I thought of Dad.

  Had I actually attempted to break him out of jail? Ironically, I could not recall. But it didn’t matter; I spent hours each night planning the deed. I was ten and I was convinced it could be done. I had seen it on the telly. An accomplice on the outside needed only to sneak in a tool, hidden in a book or a piece of fruit.

  I selected a banana.

  The most useful tool found in our flat was the flathead screwdriver, and while I was not sure what Dad would do with it, I knew he could poke and dig and tap Morse code, and I was certain that with enough time, Dad would be free.

  I rose early and slipped out the door, heading for the Underground. I joined the thousands on the subway, and then boarded a small train. Finally, I walked two hours and stood in front of the jail, loaded banana in hand.

  I approached the entry, and the man in the uniform smiled, and came out of his booth to greet me.

  “Are you lost, missy?”

  I shook my head. “My dad is in there, and I wanted to give him this banana.”

  “Must be a very special banana. May I see it, miss?”

  In my small fist was the handle of the protruding tool. I dared not give it to him. I held it up. “I’ve come a long way. Can I give it to him myself?”

  Amazingly, I was let through the gate, though now I see my plan was doomed from the start. I was buzzed into the facility, then buzzed into the main building, where I was asked to leave all my belongings, including the secret-filled fruit.

  The man behind the window slowly extracted the screwdriver. “Blimey, there’s a screwdriver in this banana. Good thing I noticed it; that would hurt his teeth. Let’s just leave that here.”

  “I needed to plan this better,” I said.

  The insult was that I never was allowed to see Dad. Mum was called, and I was held in the lobby until she arrived.

  The injury
came later.

  The first and last time Mum ever gave me a wallop. She beat me badly, until my head ached and my body throbbed; she beat me for loving Dad.

  “Clara?” Again, Elias spoke.

  His face was bloody and puffy, and Kira had crimson splotches on her jeans. I pushed myself up to my elbows.

  I lay in an alley on a discarded mattress too big for the dumpster.

  “You missed quite an event.” Kira smirked. “How’s that head?”

  Elias helped me to a sit.

  “Hard to say,” I said, and winced. “Where are we?”

  “My house — what’s left of it — is a block away.” Kira pointed, and then rubbed my forehead. “Elias carried you here. Do you remember that?”

  I shook my head.

  Elias slowly reached out and took my hand. Our fingers clasped and I blinked.

  “Are you back?”

  His eyes were soft, soft and sad. “Kira filled me in on a lot of it, but I’m really sorry, Clara. I’m so sorry for getting you into this.”

  I hugged him, and he squeezed back. How strange, to find myself drawn to half a boy. I don’t know if I hugged him from my heart or if I hugged him because Elias had returned to the surface. Maybe the embrace found its origin in gratitude. It didn’t matter.

  His arms reassured. His arms protected.

  His arms felt safe.

  “You know, Clara, I thought you were insane running off with this guy.”

  I released Elias and glanced at Kira, and she continued, “But I kind of get it. Not totally, but I get it.”

  “Running off hardly explains our relationship . . .” Elias shifted, and I sighed. “What happened, then?”

  “You were on the ground,” Elias said.

  “Yes, and you were in the air.”

  “And I suddenly saw you, I mean I saw you — me, not the Other One — and I needed to get you out.”

  Kira’s eyes sparkled. “This guy absolutely destroyed about ten seniors to reach you. Then everyone began to destroy each other, and soon the dance floor was chaos. But Elias scooped you up, and we slipped out before the cops arrived.” She shook her head. “I have never seen such a wild night, and I don’t know that I have much of a house to return to . . . Isn’t that awesome?”

  “Awesome.” I reached for my head. “There are other words.”

  Kira swallowed and lowered her head. “So what are you two going to do now? Now that your leader is . . . sort of missing.”

  I glanced at Elias.

  He stood and paced. “I hear we’re leaving. I hear you bought me a car, and Mom doesn’t know we’re gone. And I know nobody here, including me, knows what we’re looking for.”

  “This diminishes our chance of finding it, yes.”

  He froze. “Except, I think I might know. I think I know where I, where we were going. And I’d need a car to get there.” Elias pushed his hand through his hair. “I think the Other One wants to go east. I think he’s looking for a Lightkeeper.”

  PART 2

  CLARITA

  CHAPTER 12

  East.

  It feels different than west. It doesn’t matter the country, there’s an urgency to east. Life accelerates.

  However, our journey started quietly. We drove through the night sharing few words. I didn’t want it this way. I wanted to speak to Elias, to hear his gentle voice as long as it remained. I wanted to know why he hadn’t shared this hunch about the search before. But Elias was lost in a different place, racking his brain, I think, for pieces of memory, anything connected to a Lightkeeper.

  We soon crossed over the St. Croix River into Wisconsin.

  “Rest area, please,” Elias said, and I eased off the road at the next stop. I pulled into a parking stall, and he exited without a word, slowly walking into the visitor’s building.

  He was troubled, and I couldn’t imagine living his life. How could anyone bear the weight of not knowing when or where their mind, their entire existence, would suddenly vanish?

  Through the glass walls, I saw him staring at the map. A long stare. Long enough for me to extract my laptop and pound out an entry.

  A different type of entry:

  Help Support Children of Incarcerated Parents

  500 Days of Wandering, 500 Days of Hope

  Day 244

  America. Wisconsin. I had not planned on this as an excursion. I confess that until yesterday, I had not heard of Wisconsin, but now I find myself passing through. I am not alone. For the first time in many months, I have a travel companion, and for the first time since my tour began, my destination is not my own.

  I am driving to the East Coast, I think. Likely to another state of which I have not heard. I am looking for a Lightkeeper. Here I will attempt to explain the unexplainable. My companion, a big-hearted bloke, lives with a phrase imprinted on his heart. He does not remember where he heard it. He does not recall what it means. He only knows the words, and impressions tethered to them. The phrase? ‘And now it’s time to find the Lightkeeper.’ The impressions? A lighthouse. The salty air. The starry sky. That’s all he has. But those fragments poke him like slivers in his mind. He wakes with them and sleeps with them, and pictures of a lighthouse, of the stars, they fill his room, though he doesn’t know why. To his recollection, I am the first person with which he has shared them.

  And so we go searching for his impressions. Faint and buried. I have gone many places during these days. But if I could help free him, if I could give him the gift of clarity . . . If we could find this Lightkeeper, I would consider my trip a success.

  Send.

  I peeked up at Elias, now tracing the map with his finger. It was entirely possible that the object of this search had no basis in reality. But even if the quest was for a myth, it had already taken effect, pulling from me my first heartfelt post.

  FFA: You didn’t ask for money.

  Me: Huh? Oh, I didn’t . . .

  FFA: Wisconsin is very beautiful.

  Me: How would you know?

  FFA: I’ve been there a couple times.

  Me: With your parents . . .

  FFA: Sure.

  Me: I don’t believe you. I’ll wager you’re an average bloke who’s never left London and never will leave London, and soon you’ll be riding the Underground to your dead-end job, and one day you will look at your life and wonder why you wasted it all.

  FFA: And I’ll wager this entire site is a sham.

  I slammed shut my laptop. Nobody had ever questioned me before. FFA had to believe me. Of all people, he had to believe me. I couldn’t lose my confidant and the only decent boy I knew, other than Elias, of course. I slowly peeked at the screen.

  FFA: I’m sorry, Clara. I didn’t mean that. Tell me about this companion.

  FFA: Clara?

  FFA: Clara????

  Me: Here.

  FFA: I apologize. Please. Tell me about your companion.

  Me: Just a bloke.

  FFA: Anything more?

  I relaxed.

  Me: Would that bother you?

  FFA: It might.

  Elias climbed into the car.

  Me: Gotta go.

  For the second time, I shut my computer. Even though Elias couldn’t read a word on the screen, I needed FFA safely on the other side of the pond.

  It felt an unusual variety of cheating, in which my steady consisted of an anonymous avatar, and the other guy was, well, half of Elias.

  “Who was that?”

  I stroked the top of my computer. “A mate.”

  “Does he think you’re crazy?”

  I slipped the computer back into my backseat bag. “You were staring at that map a long time. Did you find what you were looking for?”

  Elias shrugged.

  I exhaled long and slow. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come out.”

  Still, silence.

  “Fine. I don’t know what he thinks. He’s a boy from London. I’ve never met him. Yes, he probably thinks I’m crazy
.” I lay my head on Elias’s shoulder. “Am I?”

  He lay his head against mine. “I better get some sleep.”

  We threw back our seats and soon drifted away.

  CHAPTER 13

  I traveled long distances in that dream. London was as I remembered, dreary and grey. Teeter and Marna were decorating their walls with marker and crayon. This act, above all others, turned Mum’s remaining strength to wrath.

  “Stop it,” I said, and they both spun. I expected them to rush into my arms. After all, it was nearly a year since I’d been home.

  They did not move.

  “You’re back,” said Teeter. “Did you enjoy your trip?”

  “I-I don’t know that I would use the word ‘enjoy’.”

  Marna stood. “You were gone a long time.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?” asked Teeter. “You left us alone.”

  At this point, I felt the terror of loose footing. That maybe this wasn’t the real world. Maybe I also had slipped through.

  I peeked up at my flat’s ceiling, but could see no light.

  “You were hardly alone,” I said. “I waited until the day Dad was returning. Children left with a parent are not alone.”

  Marna and Teeter both frowned and looked at each other. Teeter marched toward me. “What Dad?”

  And a ball, not a golf ball but a wrecking ball, shifted in my belly. I ran out of their bedroom and through the flat. “I’m back. Where is everyone?”

  I found Mum in the kitchen, slumped over in a chair. Her head rested on the table. Her arms hung down at her sides.

  “Blasted again.”

  I found the exit to the dream and slowly floated away from the scene, feeling very alone and wondering if my mum had been blasted after all.

  My eyes opened.

  My body was stiff. I rubbed the back of my neck and peered toward the east, where the sun hinted its arrival. Dawn had come to Wisconsin, and FFA was right: with colourful trees and rolling hills, it was beautiful.

  “We should get go —”

  He already had.

  I jumped out of the car and ran through the rest area. I circled the building and dashed back, searching the back of the car. His bag was gone. The feeling of the dream returned, and I panicked. I would like to say my mind’s concern was fixed on Elias, but if FFA were here, I would admit to a different truth.

 

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