by Shayn Bloom
I wish I could say my own situation is better. My homework has doubled. It’s as though every professor realized the semester is halfway over and are speeding up the curriculum so as to complete the syllabus.
Considering how busy I am, I’m glad Gabriel is so busy supposedly hunting vampires. Wolf is – well – nonexistent. Being so consumed, I fear I’d fail my classes if they were around to distract me.
I’ve had exams.
Turns out neither History nor Victorian Era Literature are my best subjects. True, I ignored 1776 and Sordello entirely. But do I deserve Cs? I’m getting them whether I deserve them or not. I’m doing much better in English 301: The Art of the Essay, and English 103: English Composition. Turns out reading the class material helps when it’s time for exams. The lone book I’ve read all semester is The Great Gatsby. So I’m acing 103. I have a B in 301. I’ll take what I can get.
* * *
I’m walking back to my dorm after History 145. It’s mid afternoon on a Thursday in early November. I’m wrapped in an obtuse looking jacket – you know – the puffy kind that looks idiotic while simultaneously being incredibly warm. It’s not that cold yet, but I like to travel prepared.
I’m mourning the absence of Wolf in my life. Again he failed to show for English 301 earlier today. I hoped – faintly hoped but hoped nonetheless – he would be there. But he didn’t show. I want so bad to talk to him. He may be upset over what happened in the forest. He has yet to comment on the fact I didn’t tell him I had a wizard friend. Even though we had talked about wizards…
The thought gives me deep-seated discomfort. I had to know this would happen. Had to know he’d find out. Worse still, Wolf doesn’t know the extent of it. He doesn’t know I’m interested in Gabriel beyond being my friend. Gabriel was rude to me in the forest. I’m still peeved over that, but the conflict may have led Wolf to believe Gabriel and I aren’t interested in each other.
What a mess!
Traveling across Red Square in the direction of dorm building C, my Uggs thumping loudly on the ground, I hear a loud pop behind me. Halting, I wait for him to speak. Not a sound. Hum… I don’t want to look around for some reason. Not if he’s going to ignore me and expect me to address him first. I must stick to my guns. Shrugging, I continue walking across Red Square.
“Nice jacket,” says someone behind me. There’s no mistaking that voice, resonant and commanding, nor that tone, soft and cold. “I suppose an Immag’s fashion sense must play the seasons.”
Turning around, I scowl at Gabriel. “You’re the one to talk,” I shoot at him. My eyes are narrowed and ready for battle. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like a nightmare from The Wizard of Oz.”
Gabriel is wearing flowing robes of tangerine today. Their eccentricity practically lights the sky on fire. Yet he’s calling out my fashion sense! Only Gabriel has that kind of tenacity of audacity, that fantastically ignorant strain of self awareness. You know, the nonexistent kind. What hypocrisy!
He laughs, the music of him sounding inside me. My heart warms despite itself. Here I am trying to carry out a serious indictment and he’s turned it all around again. Why can’t I be as manipulative?
“Take off your clothes.”
I stare at him. He’s serious.
Looking around Red Square I see nobody. How strange. The week is over for many students including me, but this is the center of campus. Where has everyone gone? Or has Gabriel put a hex on the place? It doesn’t matter, because there’s no way I’m stripping in public. Even when the public isn’t present.
“No,” I tell him, “I won’t!”
He advances on me. Drawing his wand from his robes pocket, he balances it on his palm, the turquoise of his eyes never leaving mine. Geez, he’s so fucking pretty. I love how the blond of his hair flows into the tangerine of his robes. But this isn’t the time to fawn over Gabriel. It’s the time to tell him off.
“What are you going to do?” I ask him. “Curse me? You wouldn’t dare!”
Eyebrows rise. “I would, actually. I have a license to kill, maim, and torture all sub Purids. That means –”
“I know what it means!” I exclaim. “Gabriel! We’re in the middle of Red Square. I’m not taking my clothes off!”
The wizard looks surprised. “You misunderstand me. I didn’t mean all of your clothes. Your jacket. I want to show you something.” Flipping his balanced wand over on his hand, he twirls it between fingers. I can’t shake the image of a cowboy doing the same with his pistol. The idea brings me no comfort.
Eyeing him suspiciously, I cross my arms. “It’s cold.”
“It won’t be for long,” he reassures.
“Why? Because you’re going to kill, maim, and torture me like you can?”
He shakes his head. “Do it, Nora. You’ll feel like an idiot soon.”
“I suppose nothing would make you happier,” I talk back.
But I relent.
Stripping my weightless backpack from my shoulders, I let it float slowly to the ground. I unzip my puffy jacket and pull it from my body. Dropping it on the ground, too, I hold my arms out wide, my upper body protected only by a thin, gray turtleneck. “You can turn me into a wombat now!”
He swipes his blond hair to the side of his forehead. “That isn’t funny, Nora. Turns out I know the trans-species wombat spell. I’ll save it for later,” he remarks, an unrestrained grin unfurling down his features, “for if your werewolf friend decides to come around sometime…”
“Now that,” I begin, “isn’t funny!”
“Hold out your arms.”
I exhale impatiently. “They are held out.”
“More,” he says. “Hold them out more.”
I’ve come this far. I hold them out more. “Hurry up, Gabriel. I’m getting cold standing here without a jacket.”
Gabriel doesn’t answer. Instead, he touches his wand to the cotton of my gray turtleneck. “Equilibri,” he says.
Warmth flows through my body from my torso, filling every crevice of my being. It happens instantly, effortlessly, without a thought on my part. I can’t keep the expression of amazement from my face. Geez, I planned on not inflating his ego with my reaction. But I can’t help myself. It’s glorious.
“Feel good?”
Closing my eyes, I allow my arms to fall back to my sides. “Extremely.”
“Excellent!” He exclaims happily. “The turtleneck you’re wearing is now charmed. When you wear it your body’s temperature will become ideal. If you wear it in the summer it will cool you down – despite being a turtleneck. If you wear it in the winter it’ll warm you up. Works in all seasons.”
Opening my eyes, I bathe in a bath of turquoise and tangerine. “Oh, Gabriel,” I tell him. “The things you can do, I – I can’t even –”
“Begin to imagine,” he finishes for me, satisfaction glazing his face. “You’re right, Nora. You can’t begin to imagine. But soon – very soon – you will. For how can I not share what I can do?”
Is he talking about what I think he’s talking about?
Yes, pea brain, says my alter ego. Of course he is!
Shut it! I tell her. I’m getting really sick of your negative attitude!
“Will you share now?” I ask him. “Today?”
Turquoise eyes widen. “I didn’t think you were ready.”
Garr! I hate when he does this! It’s so obvious I’ve been ready for ever. He’s the one procrastinating! Why, you ask? I would like to know the answer myself. Thanks for asking. Maybe Kiri is right after all…
“I’ve been ready,” I tell him, annoyed. “Like, forever.”
Swiping his blond hair to the side of his forehead, he smiles enormously at me. Geez, those teeth are so white, so perfect. “Is that right?”
“You know it is,” I tell him. “Either way you’re coming back with me.”
He scowls at me. “Why’s that?”
“Because,” I answer, “I don’t need my jacket and I don’t
want to carry it!”
Stowing his wand in the pocket of his tangerine robes, Gabriel frowns. “I see. I’m your bellboy, am I? I suppose I had this coming. Still, it’s a stiff thank you for making you perpetually comfortable.”
“Thank you,” I tell him as he picks up my jacket and backpack.
“I don’t suppose there’s any other reason you want me to come to your dorm, is there?”
Geez, it’s like he knows…
“Maybe,” I respond. “Well, kind of. Sort of. Yes. My friend Kiri has been dying to meet you ever since I told her about you. She seems to have a knack for spot – err – spotting eccentric men.”
“She thinks I’m gay,” Gabriel says without missing a beat, his hand finding my back and guiding me forward, across Red Square in the direction of dorm building C. “You mentioned this earlier.”
“I did? I can’t remember.”
My wizard friend snorts. “You were distracted.”
“She wants to meet you,” I continue. “Kiri is good at telling – well – she thinks of herself as sort of a –”
Geez, how do I say this?
“She thinks I’m gay,” Gabriel translates. “Prides herself on having an outstanding gaydar. She dared you to bring me by. I get it.”
“Oh,” I say dumbly. “That’s – uh – good.”
I feel inarticulate right now. It’s a pet peeve of mine – when I’m trying to describe something and it fails completely and then someone else swoops in and describes it fantastically in one line. I hate it! I hate it! I pride myself on my writing ability, and speaking – like writing – is an art of synthesis.
Geez, I’m an English major for crying out loud.
I ask the wizard, “How goes the hunt?”
My backpack on his shoulder, my jacket under his arm, and his tangerine robes glistening in the sun, Gabriel fails to meet my eyes. “Oh, that,” he says, his tone disarming, “Not the best, Nora, to be honest.”
I’m determined to trap his gaze. “Why not? What’s going on at their hideout? Have they been killing humans? Tell me!”
Relax, instructs my alter ego, before you give yourself an aneurism!
Off with your head! I yell at her.
Gabriel shakes his head. “No attacks I know of since the most recent against the Newborn. That one didn’t take place around here – it happened in mid Washington. Everything’s confusing me.”
“Why?” I push him. “I don’t understand you, Gabriel. You’re trained to be in these situations and yet you can’t figure it out. You always boast about your abilities so much – now that is confusing!”
Did I go too far? Apparently not.
His forlorn expression becomes an airy grin. “Boastful? I can’t begin to imagine myself as that. Sure – I talk – I make words with my mouth. But boasting? As for my training, I don’t know,” he admits, his grin slipping, “I thought I could handle anything. This present situation is trying me.”
“Maybe I can help,” I tell him. Geez, I hope I’m not being too opportunistic. Actually, who cares? “Tell me what’s wrong and maybe I will be able to think of something. Please tell me, Gabriel!”
Turquoise eyes find me at last. “Oh, fine then.”
He must really be desperate. I hadn’t actually expected that to work. “Yay!” I exclaim. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“Don’t make me regret this,” he adds sourly. “Well, here it is: I can’t find the Newborn. Can’t find him anywhere. And I’ve looked everywhere. Remember when you asked if I saw him? In the forest?”
I nod my remembrance.
“That time,” Gabriel continues, “I wasn’t worried because I only saw a fraction of their number and assumed the Newborn would be part of their coven. I assumed he’d come around. He hasn’t! It’s as though he never came to Olympia! But the Bureau of Beast Control is positive he’s somewhere on the Olympic Peninsula… They’re not pleased with me, Nora,” he adds, sounding depressed.
I take his hand. It’s warm and tense, and only becomes warmer and tenser when I make contact. But he relaxes and continues speaking, his voice calming my heart like a trickling stream.
“They don’t believe me,” he remarks. “The Bureau thinks I’m lazing around. It’s as if they don’t know me! I bet they have new management or something. I wouldn’t know! They don’t tell me anything anymore! It’s as though they’ve left me here in the desert to rot! I hate them sometimes!”
He’s breathing heavily after this rant. I almost want to giggle but I shelve it. I’ll get in trouble. But seriously – the desert? We’re in Olympia, Washington. It rains here. Like, a lot. It’s many things – temperate, cool, cloudy, green – but not a desert. Should I correct him? Fuck, why not.
“When you say desert,” I begin, “you know it’s –”
“I mean a desert socially,” Gabriel intercepts. “I’m all alone out here. I’ve got nothing and nobody. I’m beginning to lose who I am in this barrenness. I feel like I’m going crazy here. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand it!”
Shitballs on a stick. That wasn’t complimentary.
“What do you mean ‘all alone’?” I repeat angrily. “You’ve got –”
“I mean wizards!” Gabriel interrupts. “Witches. I know I’ve got you, Nora. I’m grateful to you. But it’s not the same as being around my own kind. I miss dueling. I miss staying up late, drinking old red wine, getting into longwinded discussions about what the Puridites are going to fuck up next. I miss it all so much!”
I huff, “I’m sorry I’m not enough for you.”
“That’s not what I said!” is his terse response. He pulls his hand from mine. “We were talking about the Newborn. You asked me about other stuff and now we’re here! How does this always happen?”
“It doesn’t,” I correct. “I thought your life may have improved since I came into it. I see I’m mistaken. Oops – my bad. I shouldn’t make such brazen assumptions without consulting you first!”
Gabriel swipes his blond hair to the side of his forehead in agitation. “You – you’re… ugh!” He can barely express his frustration. Who’s inarticulate now, I wonder? “Forget I said anything,” he says at last. “I see we won’t get anywhere with this. At least not anywhere positive.”
“I can’t forget everything you say!” I exclaim. Geez, I wish he’d figure it out. I’m not a computer you can reboot! Sighing with more oomph than I normally would, I ask, “When are you taking me to the vampire coven?”
Gabriel splutters, “Now you want to come to the vampire coven!”
“Of course I do,” I tell him. “I made the plans originally, don’t you remember? You’ve been putting it off. Doing your ‘reconnaissance work’ as you call it. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” I add nastily, gazing up at him. “That’s not the only thing you’ve been putting off, come to think of it.”
Expression impermeable, Gabriel follows me in the direction of dorm building C, the red tiled steps of Red Square falling behind. Oh fuck! I meant to go in the Daniel J. Evans library for a book on Colonel Burr and Benedict Arnold’s campaign in Canada during the Revolutionary War. Oh well.
“I will take you with me,” Gabriel says at last, “to the vampire coven. One condition, Nora. You must agree to it. Here and now. No refusals. No rain checks. Just agree and we can make plans.”
“Sure thing,” I say. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll agree to anything – I want to come. So what’s the condition?”
“That werewolf can’t come,” he answers.
“I can’t agree to that. I promised him he can come.”
“You’ll have to break your promise,” Gabriel says. “Either that or you’re not coming. Take it or leave it, Nora.”
He’s starting to annoy me. “You know,” I begin, “I can go out walking in the forest and look myself. You’d have to come or else I’d probably be killed. Or you could leave me to die. Then how would you feel? You’re not calling all the shots here. If I want Wolf to come he’s com
ing. That’s it.”
“It’s not coming,” Gabriel hisses.
“He’s not coming!” I correct furiously. “He’ s not coming. Not ‘it’s not coming’! Wolf is not an it. He’s a he. He’s a living, breathing being with thoughts and feelings. You’re superhuman, too, Gabriel. Go figure you’re calling him weird. You’re such a fucking hypocrite!”
Gabriel ignores me. “Where is it, anyway?”
He! But I know it won’t get through. “I’m not sure,” I say sadly, “still hasn’t shown for class. I wonder if something’s hap –”
“Fantastic!” Gabriel interrupts happily. “Then it’s not even an issue. You can’t find it. So you can’t ask it to come. Let’s get along again, because either way your werewolf friend won’t be joining us.”
I give my wizard friend a sidelong glance. “Are you jealous?”
Gabriel chokes. “Jealous! Of a witless half-breed? Of a beast? Don’t be stupid, Nora. There are few creations lower than the werewolf. There’s vampires… and I’m out. I’ve got nothing else. Werewolves are second lowest.”
I whisper to myself, “Bigot!”
“What?” Gabriel asks. “Sorry, didn’t hear you?”
“You’re a bigot!” I shout, tearing my hand from him. “You’re a fucking bigot, Gabriel, and not much else! Grossly predictable, too!”
Crossing my arms, I turn away from him. He walks around till he’s facing me. I’m astonished to see an enormous grin splashed across his features. “Grossly predictable? You’re calling me predictable? We’ve already had this fight! Here you are playing it out again. As for me being a bigot,” he continues slyly, “we’ve already agreed that’s true. So I don’t see what the problem is!”
Shitballs!
This isn’t fair! I want to be mad at him. But that is some beautiful hair. Those are some beautiful eyes. Is his smile eating me alive? A grin breaks across my face, and before I know it I’m scooping my hair behind my ear and looking at the cement. What am I supposed to find there? The answer to my easiness?
“See?” Gabriel says. “We don’t have problems. We don’t need bigotry around. We also don’t need werewolves!”