by Tony Ortiz
Just as I thought of someone, I saw another large mound next to Charles’s. The stone was covered with mud and twigs so I couldn’t make out the engraving, but I knew that it belonged to Cosqué.
“How do you bury them so quickly?” I said. It was only five minutes after twelve. Maybe someone else . . . “Did someone else bury them?”
“No. We did it. I guess it’s a talent.” He smiled. “Dorian did most of it.”
“Thanks,” I said, hugging Jacoby.
To my shock, Jacoby embraced me back. Katie was giving Dorian a monstrous hug, squeezing him like a tube of toothpaste. I didn’t think he liked hugs at all. When I hugged him, he started doing his quick step routine.
“I will see you tomorrow,” said Dorian anxiously. “That’s enough.”
“Jesse,” Katie suggested mischievously, “maybe we should hug Dorian at the same time.”
Jacoby laughed while Dorian was trying to pry me off with his elbows.
“I’ll see you in a couple hours,” I said, letting go of him.
Dorian backed away from me.
“Jesse, you need your rest,” said Jacoby.
“Later on then, in the afternoon?”
“That’s fine. You two had better get going.”
“I might come early,” Katie mentioned, “because there is a minimum day at school and – so, I’ll be here earlier.”
All of a sudden, I didn’t want to leave.
“Get going or I’m going to have to take you home myself,” said Jacoby.
We both stood there.
“We’ll see each other later on, now go.”
Katie and I finally pitter-pattered away, looking back a few times. I realized that the graveyard now felt like a home to me, a place I could always go back to, to feel safe and wanted. I thought of Oz and about how worried she had to be. Every neighbor and cop in town must have been searching for us. She probably was having them look for her jacket, too.
I inspected her jacket and, much to my delight, found it intact. Unlike me and the rest of my clothes, the jacket was pristinely clean, too. I whirled around and glimpsed a large grin on Jacoby as he walked away with Dorian. They were great samhains. My excitement level dropped when I remembered what time it was.
“Katie, Oz is going to kill us! It’s past twelve!”
“Kill us? You’re the one who’s gonna be in trouble.”
“But I got the jacket back. I should be okay.”
The night was warm and quiet except for an occasional barking dog. All the streetlights were on, and the full moon made it even brighter. It was hard to describe how I felt running up the streets. It felt a little like coming back home after a long vacation: somehow everything around us seemed different.
“We have to be careful,” I warned Katie as we walked through the outside entryway, “. . . very careful.”
“Why?”
“Oz likes to hide under my bed and scare me.”
Duma sat quietly in the shadows of the living room, in his alert posture, his ears pricked up, and his signature stare on.
“Jesse, you ever hear him purr?” asked Katie.
“No. Because he’s never at peace. All he wants to do is kill and plunder. He’s probably thinking about what he’ll do to us next. We won’t be able to fall asleep now–”
“The Black Catties?” she suggested.
I groaned, but it was too late. She started singing.
“A cat, a cat, I saw a freakin’ cat. Look it there, a freakin’ cat–” She waited for me to chime in.
Oh, fine. “- a black cat; one that crosses my path. Twist my fingers and make a tight cross, for the dead are coomiiing for meeee.”
She did a little wiggle of her hips, and we started dancing around Duma, whose eyes were now as big as dollar coins.
I came in with my part. “Cross your fingers and say your prayers because the black catties are here.”
“They run everywhere. They never like to lose a race–” She had changed the lyrics. “–we must get the lead in the hallway now. It’s the perfect place to win the race.”
“Who can figure a thing with race and hallway, a perfect place? Nor Albert Einstein could figure you out.”
Katie started doing her hair-tossing dance out in the hall, hinting for me to follow her. By the time she finished dancing and singing, we had crept up halfway down the hall. Duma was sitting at the living room entryway, looking at us with a confused tilt of the head. We were at a huge advantage. For once, we could actually beat him into my bedroom. Katie took off running while I barricaded the hall.
“Go!” I shouted as Duma shot under my legs and dashed for my room.
Katie saw him coming and threw her body across his path, but Duma dodged her and entered my room first.
“Crapper!” said Katie, picking herself up. “We can never beat him.”
“I know. Stupid things can’t be beat.”
“Jesse, be nice. Duma just wants attention.”
“Okay, cat lover. Wait until tonight. He’ll probably – Katie, wait!” I prompted as she walked into my room. “Oz might be in there.”
“No, she’s not. We don’t do that kind of stuff.”
“Oz is not a girl. She isn’t even normal. The government must’ve gotten to her. Have you ever heard of them coming into people’s houses and cutting a piece of everyone’s brain out and planting it into a rabbit–”
“Stop talking. I’m going to gag.”
I poked my head into my room. “Look under the bed.”
“No, you do it! If she’s there, she already knows we’re here.” Katie bravely lifted the sheets. “See, she’s not there.”
“Well, sometimes she is. Hurry, get in my bed. I’ll take the floor.”
“No, I’ll take the floor. . . . Why don’t we both sleep in the bed?”
I gaped at her.
“Just kidding. Okay, I’ll take the bed.”
She jumped inside, and I sat down to take off my running shoes, which were no longer new. Everything we had was covered in dirt.
I looked over at Katie, making sure she wasn’t looking at me, and snatched my journal and pencil from under my bed.
“What’s that?” she said.
“What?” I stalled, turning red. “Uhmm . . . what’s that?” I pointed at the wall behind her.
“What’s what? The wall?”
“Yes. It has dirt on it. Have you ever seen dirt like that?”
“You’re a psycho. Night.”
“Night, Cat,” I said.
“Yeah, let’s see how long that’s going to last, booty bejo.”
What in the heck did that mean?
“Buenas noches.”
“Buenas noches.”
Katie and I both turned onto our backs and stared up at the ceiling. Who knows what Katie was thinking, but I was thinking about Oz and how mad she must be right now. She was probably going to kill me.
I heard Duma yowl over where Katie was.
“Then don’t bite the gown, you ugly fur ball!” she snapped. “It’s not mine! I’m gonna kick you off the bed if you do it one more–” The door was creaking open. I dropped my head on the floor and pretended I was asleep, keeping one eye open though. I couldn’t tell who Oz was looking at. All I could see was her white tennis shoes in the doorway. She wasn’t coming in. After a minute, I heard her say, “Love you two.”
Katie and Duma fell asleep not long after she closed the door. That was the signal I could start writing in my journal. October 31st. It all started one morning with Duma slipping off my face.
End of Part 1
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