Mystify

by Artist Arthur

  The minute I close the door behind me, I want to scream. I want to run out and find my mother and scream at her for tolerating his controlling ways and for not understanding me. But I know that none of it will work. Sometimes you can’t change who or what people are. If that were possible, Marvin Carrington certainly would have tried to change me.

  twenty-five

  The next day they find the bus that the group who’d gone on the religious retreat used. It was deep in the woods just at the town border.

  Nobody was inside.

  Not the youth leader, Minister Hobbs, or the five remaining teenagers. The local police have instituted a full-on manhunt for someone they think might be responsible for the killing of the other two boys and possibly everyone from the bus. But they don’t have a clue.

  I don’t either, but I know it’s all connected to what we must do. He’s sending us a message, although I’m not entirely sure what it is.

  “Ever heard the saying ‘your eyes are the windows to your soul’?” Mr. Kramer asks when we’re sitting on the rickety old picnic table in Jake’s backyard.

  I came over to tell him that my dad wouldn’t be bothering his family or their property any longer. Lindsey and Krystal were already here. I guess they’d been meeting without me, but I’m trying not to think too much of that. I understand things have been a little strained between us for a few days. A lot of that having to do with me being torn between working with Alyssa and my parents with the club and then the Antoine issues. Jake probably felt like I was betraying him in some way, and I guess so did Krystal. But I wasn’t. I never would. I wonder if they know that now.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Jake answers, getting up to help his grandfather down the steps. He’s using his cane today, but he’s moving a lot slower than normal.

  “He needs the souls, needs to take them out so he can possess the body. That’s how he gets them to do his bidding.”

  Standing up to make space for Mr. Kramer on the edge of the bench, Lindsey asks, “Who, Mr. Kramer?”

  “Him, the dark one that you need to stop. It’s children that he seeks, ones your age. He’s looking for the marked ones like you.”

  “Ones that have an M,” Krystal says quietly. She’s sitting on the opposite side of the picnic table, and Jake has just come and sat beside her.

  Lindsey and I are on the side with Mr. Kramer, who is now nodding his head with so much vigor I’m afraid he might make himself dizzy.

  “When he doesn’t find the mark, he takes their eyes which give him their soul.”

  “But why possess them?” I ask.

  “Taking you out is not as easy as he planned. She cursed him good, she did.” Mr. Kramer tilts his head back and laughs so hard the bottom row of his dentures shift, and he acts like he’s coughing to cover his mouth.

  “Why did she curse him? What did he do to her?”

  “He got greedy, I suppose,” Mr. Kramer said, and began looking around the yard. “Wanted more than he was supposed to have. More souls, I guess.” Then Mr. Kramer is looking around like he sees something out here that we don’t.

  I follow his gaze, but I don’t see anything. The wind does pick up, but it’s been blowing all day. Real blustery-like, making any trash or debris on the ground circle in little pools.

  Lindsey suddenly grabs her arms, like she’s shivering. I see Krystal look from Lindsey to me and then around us. Jake’s hands flatten on the table. He’s looking down, but I can tell he’s tensing.

  “Styx has power over the moon and the sun. Her river also runs circles around the Underworld. Death, darkness and demons would have passed through her on a daily basis,” says Mr. Kramer.

  “You think this Darkness that’s haunting us passed through her river at some point and pissed her off?” Jake asks, still not looking up at any of us.

  “Everyone was afraid of her. The gods swore oaths by her. What if the oath sworn was broken?” Krystal asks.

  Lindsey speaks, her hands still rubbing up and down her arms. “She would have cursed them to death probably.” Her teeth start chattering, and she clamps her mouth shut.

  “Unless the one who broke the curse is already dead. What if it’s an immortal being we’re fighting? How can we win?” Krystal asks just as a fierce gust of wind blows, knocking us all from the table.

  I roll over on the ground and instantly look for Mr. Kramer to see if he’s okay. He’s lying flat on his back. I try to stand to get to him, but this wind is hellacious, knocking me right back down again. The sky has gone dark, heavy gray clouds are looming above, and the little circles of debris that were twirling on the ground earlier today are now lifting into tiny little cyclones all around the yard.

  “What’s happening?” Lindsey screams, her arms covering her head.

  “I don’t know,” Krystal answers as she crawls under the table. Jake has made his way over to his grandfather and is pulling him toward the table where Krystal is. Joining the rest of the gang, I get on my knees and crawl through the wind until I reach Mr. Kramer and Jake. I take one of his arms and help Jake pull. When I look over at Lindsey, I see she’s crying, so once I know Jake has Mr. Kramer safely under the table, I move toward her.

  “It’s okay, just a little wind,” I say, putting my arms around her. She’s shaking and staring forward, her arms still above her head. “Let’s get under here with the rest of them until it passes.”

  But I don’t really think this is going to pass. The wind is actually growing stronger, knocking over trash cans and anything else not nailed to the ground. Luckily this old picnic table was cemented down, so it’s shaking a bit, but at least it’s not taking flight.

  Finally under the table, we’re all huddled together. Mr. Kramer looks like he’s sleeping, but I think he’s unconscious. Jake has one arm around him and the other around Krystal. Lindsey and I are sitting cross-legged. I still have my arm around her, and she’s still crying.

  We all sit like that, watching in awe as what seemed like a little windstorm quickly changes course.

  Everything is flying around, from tree branches to screened doors. The wind makes this howling sound that echoes in my ears. It’s whisking around and around until suddenly there’s loud thunder from above. I can’t see the sky, but I can see the streaks of lightning that drop down from it. Each streak breaks something in its path, a huge oak tree splits in half, a house down the road catches fire, a car explodes.

  Now I’m shaking, trying really hard not to get hysterical. Lindsey’s about to fall completely apart. I hear Krystal scream and Jake trying to console her. My chest fills with something like a yell but I bite it back, hoping it doesn’t break free.

  Then alongside the crackling lightning bolts comes a thin stream of what looks like smoke. In a few seconds I see my assessment is wrong, it’s not smoke, it’s a funnel cloud, and it begins to spread.

  Opening its mouth like a wide yawn, it grows bigger and bigger until its tip touches the ground. Then everything in its wake is sucked up. Houses. Cars. Utility poles. Everything.

  Above us, the table rattles like it’s going to take flight soon. We’re out in the open with no protection. I look around quickly, but there’s nothing to hold on to except each other. Now I do scream because that funnel is getting closer, and we have nowhere to run.

  A lot of things are running through my mind: will I ever see Antoine again? Where’s Casietta and Mouse? The school, Krystal’s parents, our lives, my shoes. It’s a hodgepodge of stuff just whirling around like the wind and debris, and I figure this is what’s meant by your life passing before your eyes. My heart’s hammering in my chest. Lindsey is openly sobbing, and I keep a tight hold on her, rocking back and forth, trying to project a fearlessness I don’t really possess.

  Then the funnel stops, like just stops right in front of us. It’s still twirling, the wind is still blowing viciously, but the funnel itself isn’t moving. The howling increases, but in between, I’d swear I can hear laughter. His laughter. It grows l
ouder and louder.

  Within the funnel I can see chairs and trees, trash and cars, dogs and light poles, all twirling around in the cloudy mass. Then I see something that has to be the least expected of them all. Shadowy figures, tall, thin, slinkylike and black. They’re breaking from the funnel as if the huge cloud is simply spitting them out.

  Shaking, I look over at Jake and Krystal to see if they’re seeing the same thing. From their gaping mouths and virtually still bodies, I think they are.

  Dozens of them break free of the funnel, moving about the earth without actually touching the ground. They split up, all going in different directions, as if following some type of leader that I can’t see.

  “Wh-what…is…it?” I stutter.

  “I don’t know!” Krystal screams.

  Jake just shakes his head.

  The laughter grows louder. “You won’t win,” the deep voice says.

  Then, as if in the blink of an eye, the funnel is gone. The wind is still, and the sky is bright blue with the sun blazing all its golden glory.

  We all stay under the table, shaking, reeling, trying to make sense of what we’ve just seen.

  Knowing it means only one thing. This battle has just taken a serious turn, and we might just be outnumbered.

  twenty-six

  “Oh, you’re awake. Finally.”

  My mother is sitting on the side of my bed. Her face looks tight, maybe because her hair’s pulled back and sprayed stiffly. From what I can see, she’s wearing slacks and a yellow blouse. Today is casual. She has on her pearls—the single strand choker and the stud earrings.

  And she’s holding my hand.

  “I’ve been waiting and waiting. Casietta said you were probably very tired. But even so, you’ve been asleep for hours.”

  She’s still talking as I turn my head and look out the window. It’s daylight, which means I slept all night. Cool. I didn’t think I would. Not after that tornado and those things that came from it. I just knew I was going to have nightmares. But I actually feel very rested.

  I’m hungry, too.

  “Is Casietta around?” I ask in a dry voice.

  For a minute, my mother just blinks at me, like I’ve spoken in some foreign language. I rethink what I said and hope that wasn’t actually the case.

  But then she clears her throat and says, “I’m here, Sasha. For whatever you need, I am here.”

  Yeah, right, okay.

  “Where’s Casietta?” I ask again.

  Now she actually looks a little hurt. I try to sit up. “I, um, wanted to see if she’d bring me some fruit or something. Can you call her?”

  “She’s gone,” she says rather abruptly.

  “Gone?” I push back the sheets and attempt to get out of the bed. “Gone where?”

  She doesn’t answer right away because she’s trying to keep me in the bed. “Now, you lie still a little longer. You rush out of bed, you’ll get a headache.”

  She doesn’t know I’m already getting a headache. “Where is Casietta?” I ask, plopping back down on my pillows.

  My mother huffs and brushes off the front of her blouse like having to touch me or assist me has caused her some discomfort.

  “If you must know right this minute, she’s gone back to Argentina.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Some disagreement between her and your father. Marvin didn’t think she was doing her job as well—probably because of her age. I don’t really know. I’ll be interviewing new prospects next week. But for right now, would you like me to get you anything?”

  Yeah, I’d like my guardian back. I’d like Casietta. I don’t speak because I don’t know what to say. I’m totally speechless. What will happen to me now? If Casietta has been guarding me all this time, what will happen now that she’s gone?

  “She’s been with me forever and she does a great job,” I start to say, but my mother quickly puts up a hand to quiet me.

  “It’s done. Your father has decided.”

  “And when he decides it’s done, no questions asked.” I hear the words and wonder if I should take them back. But I don’t want to, this is so unfair.

  My mother is quiet, and for the first time, I realize she’s sad. “Casietta was my friend, too, Sasha. But she had to go. We’ll get along fine without her.”

  Just before she stands and turns away, I see her bottom lip quiver. Whatever I was going to say next is stalled.

  So Casietta is gone, and there are more dark things slinking around on earth. This is just great.

  “Where’s Dad now?” I ask out of sheer curiosity. I haven’t seen him since I gave him the ultimatum to leave Jake alone. I guess I should have had the foresight to add Casietta in that deal as well.

  “He had a business trip, went into the city last night.”

  Last night, before or after I was brought home by the paramedics, I wonder.

  We’re all okay, but after we climbed from beneath the table all shaken up, Jake’s dad thought it was best if we got checked out.

  “So it’s just you and me in the house?”

  “For a couple of days. Like I said, I’ll be interviewing next week for a replacement for Casietta.”

  “Nobody can replace her,” I say quickly.

  My mother nods her head as if she was about to say the same thing.

  “I’ll go down and fix you something to eat. You just sit here and gather your strength.”

  “I’m going to school,” I say, pushing back the sheets and swinging my legs from the bed.

  Standing at the door, my mother just nods. “Okay. I’ll let Mr. Lycanian know.”

  And then she’s gone and I’m alone.

  I spend a few seconds thinking, and then I realize there’s no point. I don’t know what happened between my father and Casietta and may never know. But I have to deal with the here and now—with these things that came with last night’s storm and with the relationship I’ve left hanging.

  “What’s up with you? You look like you’ve lost your BFF,” Krystal says, dropping down to sit on the school steps beside me after school. She’s got her books in her arms and her purse on her shoulder. She’s wearing jeans and a white blouse with blue stripes. Her hair’s hanging around her shoulders, and for the first time in days she looks normal.

  I just shrug and then ask the question that’s been bugging me all day where she’s concerned. “Have you talked to Franklin?”

  She shakes her head negatively but doesn’t look at me. “His cell phone is disconnected and their house phone just rings. There’s no car in their driveway and there was a fill-in doing the weather this morning. I think they’re gone.”

  “Sounds like it,” I say, not sure how she’s taking that bit of news. “But what about your vision? You saw Mr. Bryant showing what’s on that flash drive to a room full of people. We still need to know exactly what he knows.”

  “As long as he’s out of Lincoln I don’t think we’re gonna make that happen.” She sighs. “I heard your dad’s out of town, too.”

  “How’d you hear that?”

  “Alyssa was in the hallway bragging about this new club and how she’s helping the Carringtons but that the plans would have to wait until Mr. Carrington returned from his business trip.”

  Wow, talk about news traveling fast. I didn’t even think anybody in school would care about that little tidbit of information, but I guess if it was one of Alyssa’s flunkies listening, they care about whatever she has to say.

  “Listen, about the Alyssa situation. My mom pushed me and her together. I didn’t volunteer to work with her in any way.”

  Krystal just waves a hand in my direction. “Don’t worry about it. It’s over.”

  “I really hope it is because I had nothing to do with the way she was treating you. I’d never do that.”

  “I know,” Krystal says, and then she does look over at me. “When me and Jake talked about it, he made me see that it wasn’t something you’d do. I guess I was just trippin’ about th
e Franklin thing, too, so I needed somebody to take it out on.”

  “For the record,” I say with a small smile, “I don’t think Franklin had any control over the stuff he was doing. I mean, if he was trying to take your eyes, maybe his had already been taken. And like Jake’s granddad said, the eyes are the windows to the soul. I think he really liked you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not looking forward to the love arena anytime soon.”

  I chuckle. “I hear that,” I answer, looking out toward the parking lot instead.

  “Why are you sitting out here alone? Where’s Mouse?”

  “Running late. I was going to go somewhere after school that I didn’t want him to know about, but my plans changed.”

  “You were going to go out with Antoine?”

  I didn’t think Krystal had been paying attention to my issues with Antoine. For weeks she’d been so busy avoiding me, or casting me dirty looks. Anyway, I really do need to talk about this thing with him. And since I don’t have a BFF—the thought of Alyssa’s offer to fill that position still makes me want to hurl—I guess confiding in a Mystyx will do just fine.

  Over the weekend I’d sent him like four texts, but he didn’t respond to any of them. So last night, just before I’d gone over to Jake’s, I’d called him. He didn’t answer his cell. I called his house and Aunt Pearl said he was taking a nap. I didn’t believe that excuse at all.

  “He’s so pissed at me right now.”

  “Why? What’d you do?”

  “It’s more like what I didn’t do.”

  “And that is?”

  I sigh heavily. It’s one thing to internalize your faults and mistakes. It’s another thing entirely voicing them so that the words are forever out in the universe. “I didn’t stand up for us. I should have been proud to be with him, proud of our relationship. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t brave enough to go against the rules.”

  Krystal chuckles. “Really? Are you serious?”

  I look at her questioningly.

  “You’ve done nothing but break rules since I’ve met you and you were probably doing it long before then.”