Heartless

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Heartless Page 7

by Leah Rhyne


  “Yeah, and you’re starting to get more grotesque again,” Lucy said. “Maybe you should have prepared him better?”

  “I’ll know for next time.”

  “Are you planning many more of these reveals, Jo? Because if so, I want to start recording them with my phone. I’m sure we can make a great montage sequence of you making random people hurl.”

  “You can show it at my funeral.”

  Lucy looked away and closed her eyes. “Shut up,” she said.

  For lack of anything better to do, I kicked the ground and pushed the desk chair in a circle, relishing the slight change in equilibrium as a chance to feel something physical. At least my brain still registered movement, if not heat or cold or touch. The room swam before my eyes while I spun and spun and spun.

  From her seat on the floor, Lucy frowned. “Don’t talk like that. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

  “Yes, it does,” I said. “Expect the worst and you’ll never be disappointed.” I spun again, and again, eyes wide open, watching the room fly past. When Eli appeared in the doorway as it whirled by, I tried to stop, but only succeeded in launching myself from the spinning chair. As I tumbled to the ground in a heap of arms and legs, I heard a snap.

  “Jo!” said Lucy. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I said, though honestly I wasn’t sure. Lucy and Eli appeared on the floor beside me, pulling me up, disentangling me from myself. When all was said and done and I was once again on my feet, my right forearm dangled limp inside my thick black pea coat. It didn’t hurt, but it also didn’t seem right, the way it wiggled.

  “Can one of you help me take this off?” I asked.

  Eli peeled the coat carefully off my shoulders and set it on his bed. When he turned around and saw the crazy way my arm wriggled and dangled, his face turned green again.

  “Really?” Lucy said to me. “You had to break your arm on top of everything else?”

  I shrugged. “Sorry,” I said. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it matters!”

  “I don’t think it does.”

  I couldn’t meet Lucy’s eye.

  “Jolene Hall, you’re starting to sound like a defeatist! I thought we came here to get some answers, and now I think you’re giving up.” Lucy took my cheeks in her hands and forced me to look up from the floor. “I’m not going to give up on you this easily, Jo, and I think it’s time you reevaluate how you’re looking at things.”

  “Girls.” Eli’s voice was timid, quiet. Not at all like his usual self.

  I ignored him. “It’s not like I have much to hope for at this point. Look at me! I’m falling apart! Do you really think they’ll be able to put me back together?”

  “Yes! I have to believe that because I’m not about to start writing my best friend’s eulogy today!”

  “Girls!”

  This time Eli was louder. He stepped in between us, arms extended as though to keep us from attacking each other.

  “What?” We spoke together, turning on him. His skin had turned from green to gray, but he was much more steady on his feet.

  “I’m sorry to break this up,” he said, his voice growing stronger. “But would you two please knock this crap off and tell me what in God’s name is going on? Because really, Jo, you’re standing here, smelling like shit, looking like shit, with a broken arm, and telling me you’re dead. And to be honest, it’s starting to scare me. A lot. So would you fill me in? Please? I think I have a right to know.”

  His eyes were wide and filled with tears that shocked me. I honestly hadn’t known he cared enough to cry. I’d certainly never seen it happen. My arms fell to my sides, and I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A tear escaped his left eye and trailed down his cheek.

  We faced each other, and I wanted to let him hold me, but he made no move to do so. From the corner of my eye I saw Lucy walk to his bookshelf and pick up a tattered paperback. She approached. “Here,” she said, holding it out. It was Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. “I think this will explain it best.”

  I knocked the book to the ground, where it lay, cover-side-up, a promise of terrible things to come. Eli sank to the floor beside it.

  “That’s not funny, Luce,” I said, my voice shaking with rage.

  “I’m not trying to be funny.”

  “I know.” My head hung low on my shoulders, barely held up by muscles that atrophied while we argued.

  Eli looked at me, pleading. “Please,” he whispered. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

  So we did, taking turns telling pieces of the story, from me getting hit on the head after leaving his apartment, to waking up in the morgue, to trying to trick Officer Strong into believing we were having a normal girl weekend in the dorms.

  “Crap,” he said when we were done. His eyes were red and his hands shook, but he was still upright, just like Lucy had been. I was glad I had come, glad he hadn’t given up on me either. At least not yet. “But one thing I don’t understand is why didn’t you let him help you? Why’d you sic him back on me?”

  Lucy sighed a sigh of someone so far put out that she couldn’t believe a person’s stupidity. I thought about reminding her that she’d asked a version of the same question earlier in the day, but I held my tongue for once. “Come on, think a sec,” she said, when I didn’t answer. “It’s obvious.”

  “What’s obvious?”

  “Look at her. She’s dea…I mean…sorry, Jo. You’re not dead. I didn’t mean it.”

  “No problem, I’m getting used to it,” I said.

  “Anyway, we want to find out who did this and get them to fix her. Whatever’s going on, it’s our first priority to make her well again. But she’s our only clue. And the cops would take her and use her and send her to the hospital, and we think that would kill her.”

  Eli pulled himself to his feet and walked to his window to crack it open. “Sorry, I need fresh air. I need to think.” Lucy put her coat back on as a breeze blew in, knocking the papers around on Eli’s bed. He stared at the book that still lay beside me. “Frankenstein. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. And I think you did the right thing, coming here. I think you’re right about what they’d do to you.”

  His eyes filled again as he stared at me. “You’re still beautiful, you know? Still Jo. But so different now. So much whiter, more pale. Like porcelain. Or something. I don’t know, I’m sorry. My head’s all messed up right now.” Eli shook himself like a puppy after a bath, shaking out his troubling thoughts like so many droplets of water. He knelt beside me and pressed his forehead into his bed. “I’m so sorry, Jo. This is my fault.”

  Eli cried for a few minutes, and I let him. There was really nothing I could do or say to make it easier on him. While it wasn’t Eli’s fault, not really, there was no way to convince him it wasn’t. He didn’t bash me on the head or cut me up or stitch me back together. But he did let me go out into the night to the person or people who did.

  Lucy stood and left the room. Her eyes, too, were red with tears.

  I rubbed his back with a hand thick and clumsy. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know this is hard.”

  He finally lifted his head. “You’re sorry? You’re sorry? No.” He paused a moment. “I’m the one who’s going to be sorry the rest of my life. I made you leave the other night. Over a stupid, childish fight.”

  “You didn’t make me,” I said. “I chose to go.”

  “But still. I let you. This is all on me, kid. But I’ll do my best to fix things. To fix you. So tell me. What can I do to help?”

  I smiled, and let him pull me to my feet. “Thanks, Eli,” I said. “I hoped you’d be willing to help. Lucy and I, well, we hope if we find the people who did this, that they can fix me. But we need time to find them. So maybe cover for me? As best you can? If people ask where I am or what I’m doing, you know, just say normal stuff. I’m studying, I’m at the dorm, you and I are hanging out later. You know?”

  “Lie for you.”


  “Yeah.”

  “That’s fine. What else?”

  I walked to the door and opened it. “Lucy, come back in!” I called.

  She emerged from the bathroom, calm once again, a brave smile plastered across her face. “What’s up?” she said.

  “Come in. Sit down. Eli’s on board to help us, and I think I have a plan to save me.”

  Eli and Lucy took seats on the bed and I paced the floor before them as I laid out my plan.

  Our first goal, in my mind, was to locate the place where I’d awoken. That seemed the logical primary step in finding the people who dismantled me and who could, in a logical progression of assumptions, put me back together. I thought we could start by running searches on mountain properties that could possibly house all that equipment and space. “I’m just sorry I ran,” I said. “I should’ve stayed and looked around. Why’d I run?”

  “Oh, come on. What else were you supposed to do?” Lucy said, encouraging me. “Don’t beat yourself up. You woke up in the middle of a nightmare and you ran. It’s what I’d have done.”

  “Right,” said Eli. “Me, too. So let’s not waste time second guessing right now, okay? Right now what we need is your plan. Like you said, we do a search. We know the area pretty well, right? Most places I know within walking distance are pretty small. Not many sprawling estates big enough for a secret lair.” He cracked up, and his laughter sounded nice. The mood was lightening, and I liked it. It made me feel less despondent. “I sound like I’m in a comic book, don’t I? Anyway, we can probably narrow down an area to search pretty quickly. Just look for the big houses.”

  “Exactly,” I said, grateful. “And while we search, I need to lay low. Luce, we’re going to need smell-controllers for our rooms. Candles, sprays, whatever. We need to control the funk. You guys are turning green just sitting here with me, and I don’t want the cops turning up again looking for a dead body. I don’t think I can fool them again.”

  Lucy grinned. “I’ll handle Officer Strong if he comes back around.”

  “That guy!” Eli groaned. “He was such a dick!”

  “Was he?” I said. “Lucy liked him.”

  She threw a pillow at me. It hit me in the face, and a cloud of dust flew up around me. “Ew,” she said. “Jo-dust.”

  I tried to roll my eyes, but they wouldn’t move that way. So I ignored her, talking instead to Eli. “I’m sure Strong was only doing his job. That said, I don’t think Lucy or I really fooled him. Lucy was doing her giggling thing, and I looked like a circus freak when he showed up. He was definitely onto something.”

  “Jesus, it sounds like we’re in a movie,” Lucy said, groaning. “He’s onto us! Oh no! Somebody get my gun!”

  “Luce,” I said. “Stop! This is serious.”

  She shot me a crooked grin. “I know, but it’s also kind of absurd. We want to find the house, to find the guy, while avoiding the cops and anyone else who might want to find you. Because I bet they’re looking. And we’re doing all this to get you back to normal. Which we don’t even know is possible.”

  Eli stood up and looked out his window. “Don’t forget revenge,” he said softly. “Someone did this to you. They’re going to pay.”

  His voice was chilling. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I nudged Lucy with my foot. She looked up at me, shrugged, and then said, “Right, okay, well, there’s that too. But for now, let’s focus on finding them. Maybe when we find them, we can let Officer Strong handle the revenge part. He’ll get to call it justice, and you won’t go to jail.”

  All at once, my head thickened again, like it had earlier in the day. My thoughts slowed down, my arms and legs grew heavy. I looked up at Lucy. “It’s happening again,” I said, only I slurred so much it sounded more like, “Itsh hoppen gen.”

  “Oh no,” she said, and she immediately slid an arm under my shoulders and hauled me to my feet.

  “What’s happening?” Eli asked, terrified. “Is she dying?”

  “No,” said Lucy. “It’s just…her battery’s running low. She needs to recharge.”

  “How’s she do that?”

  Lucy and I fumbled our way toward the nearest wall socket. She set me down next to it, then said, “Mind if I don’t stick around to watch this time?”

  I nodded. “Yeth,” I said. “Takim wif you.”

  She turned and pulled on Eli’s arm. “Come on. You don’t want to see this.” She dragged him, protesting loudly, out of the room and closed the door.

  As I plugged myself into the wall socket, using a different finger this time, the lights surged in the room. Judging by the shouts and cries I heard from the rest of the apartment, they did so in the whole building. When the warmth stopped flowing and I knew I was charged enough to last for a while, I pulled my hand away from the socket.

  It took about eight minutes this time, much more than the two or three minutes it took me to charge the first time.

  But this time, most of my left index finger stayed behind.

  “Oh, crap!” I said.

  Lucy burst back into the room, Eli on her heels. “What happened?” he said. “Why’d the lights go crazy? What were you doing in here for so long? Lucy wouldn’t let me in.”

  “Ew,” said Lucy, seeing the problem immediately. She wrinkled her nose and covered her mouth with her hand, but she recovered quickly. “Okay, I think it’s time to get you home and patch you up again. Should we…take that with us?”

  “Oh, dear God,” said Eli, staring at my finger in the socket. “Is that what I think it is?”

  I nodded, and Eli left the room again. The sound of his retching filtered down the hall.

  In the end, after an endless debate over what to do with my detached finger, Eli drove Lucy and me back to our dorm. With all the windows down, it was a chilly ride for both of them, but I was focused on my broken arm and on my detached finger, which made the trip home jammed into its correct location inside my glove. We stopped at the pharmacy, where Lucy bought bandages, more sewing supplies, and a bunch of air fresheners and candles.

  Eli dropped us off, and we agreed to meet later that afternoon. He looked pale and tired, so I told him to go home and rest. As Lucy and I walked into the dorm, I saw Officer Strong milling about outside, wearing a black knee-length parka that made him look like a storm trooper from 1940s Germany.

  Lucy smiled and waved when she saw him, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Still smiling, and through clenched teeth, she whispered, “What’s he still doing here?”

  I shook my head and pulled her away. “No idea,” I hissed. “But don’t draw attention to us, okay? I didn’t think we’d get off that easily, and I don’t want him nosing around here until we get this figured out.”

  She squeezed my hand. “I know, I know. Let’s get you inside.”

  Dear Ms. Hall,

  I was sorry to see you miss class Thursday and our lab on Friday. Please be aware that one more unexcused absence from class will result in the lowering of your final grade.

  Dr. Stanton

  Biology Head

  Dear Jo,

  I was sorry you missed class Friday. Were you getting a jump on the weekend with some skiing? Class wasn’t the same without you to lead the discussion. Please let me know if you’re sick and are going to miss additional classes so I can have someone take notes from my lecture for you. Otherwise, I’ll see you Monday, prepared to discuss Romeo and Juliet, k?

  Sondra Lewis

  English Dept.

  Dear Dr. Stanton and Prof. Lewis,

  Thank you both for your emails to check up on me. I’ve been down for the count with some flu, but am finally on the mend, I think. I hope to see you both in class this week. (Dr. Stanton, I will try to get a doctor’s note so you can see I’m not faking, but I forgot to get one when I went to the school clinic on Friday. Hopefully they’ll write one out for me, though. I’d hate to accidentally lower my final grade.)

  Thanks again,

  Jo Hall

  Jo1995
: One thing I’ve never been is a good liar. Hear that friends? You will always know if I am lying to you.

  EliPete21: @Jo1995 I have to say I admire your honesty. But I’m with @LucyGoosie. You smell.

  LucyGoosie: @EliPete21 @Jo1995 Hey, be nice to Jo! She’s had a rough weekend.

  Jo1995: @EliPete21 @LucyGoosie That’s putting it a little lightly.

  Hey Mom,

  I just wanted to let you know—the next few days are going to be a little busy for me, but I did find my cell phone. Sadly, it was beat up by the snow so it’s completely busted. Still, I may not have a chance to get a new one, what with midterms coming up, so if you don’t hear from me for a couple days, don’t worry. I love you and Dad and I’m just a bit tied up at the moment.

  Love,

  Jo

  Lucy napped most of the afternoon, claiming exhaustion from the unexpected amount of drama in the morning. In reality, I think she needed a break from my stench, which was starting to peel paint around the borders of my room.

  I spent the time by myself, responding to more emails, researching real estate, and occasionally zoning out with a game of Solitaire.

  All I could think about, though, was that time was slipping away while I continued to deteriorate. I knew Lucy needed sleep, and Eli needed to figure out what the hell was going on, but I was getting scared. No matter how many times I turned the facts around in my head, I couldn’t come up with a resolution in which I’d come away from this experience alive, at least not without finding the people who did this to me and somehow convincing them to undo what was already done. But that felt so unlikely. When I mentioned it to Lucy she threw a pillow at me, told me to get out, and buried her face in her comforter, groaning. “You’re going to be fine,” she said. “Unless you don’t let me get some sleep!”

 

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