She Lies Twisted

by C. M. Stunich

  “How depressing.” I wasn't sure if James had said it or if I had. I put my sweatshirt hood over my hair and pulled the drawstrings tight. I couldn't have agreed more either way.

  “This is the price of love, huh?” I asked him. He jumped as if he'd been stung by a jellyfish. The look he threw my way was less than pleasant. He looked...disappointed.

  “Love?” He asked, adjusting Jessica's sweatshirt and tugging on the loops of her pants to keep them from riding down. “This isn't about love. This about control. This is about taking something from someone that they weren't willing to give you freely in the first place.” I kicked over a broken chair and neglected to respond. What was I supposed to say to that? “Love is perfect and gentle and it doesn't take, it only gives.” I looked at James as he spoke. His face was less pale, more passionate. Here was a person who knew what he was talking about. James had loved Sydney. Period. I glanced away, ashamed for disagreeing but unable to control the cynicism that dripped from my lips like poison. Had I learned nothing?

  “It seems more like a punishment. I mean, look at us, we loved and look where we're at now?” I gestured at the apartment. “We're dead and we can't see the ones we would've died for. We have to send them on and we have to stay here. That doesn't seem very gentle or perfect or amazing to me. If what I've been through isn't a punishment, then I don't know what is.”

  Nethel's feathered feet were so quiet on the floor that neither of us heard her come in.

  “This isn't a punishment,” she said, her voice like the drip of rain in a spring puddle, soft, soothing, melodic. “You two were chosen for a reason. At the time of your deaths, you loved more purely, more fully than most people will ever understand. They go to the Library to try and determine the meaning of life. You have already found it. Who better to assist them in their journey than you?” I turned around and stared at her, just stared at her. I was a walking indeterminate, unlife thing because I loved too much? I didn't speak. I was mad, pissed, but James, he looked happy and I think he even had a tear at the corner of his eye. I was instantly jealous. Why couldn't I believe in all of the happy, flowery, puppies and kittens type stuff, too?

  “But...” My voice trailed off as I thought of Boyd. Love. True love. I had felt it for him, sure. But it hadn't been romantic. Had that been good enough? I had loved him with all of my soul. I would've died for him. That was the meaning of life? I shook my head. It was hard to buy that. “But when will we die, when do we get to move on and forget the hurt because that's the price you pay for love and I'm just about tapped out.” I tried to make it funny but it just sounded sad.

  “It's not up to us,” Nethel replied, folding her wings behind her and swinging her gaze over the trashed apartment. “Ehferea and I, the harpies, we are here because we have failed time and time again to understand. This is our punishment.” I blinked back at her. That was the most information I'd gotten out of the her yet. It wasn't much but it was a start. “But isn't the reward worth the price?”

  “It's worth any price.” The words blurted from my mouth before I could stop them. Nethel and James both smiled warmly at me. I turned away and pretended to cough. There it was. I did have a revelation. I was making progress. It was actually pretty embarrassing. All of my life, I'd worn the cloak of anger and cynicism and frustration. Now, I was showing my skin and it was tougher than I'd thought. I kicked at a half empty beer can and watched it roll foam and gold liquid across the rug. “Any sign of Jessica?” I asked, trying to pretend that my previous statement had meant nothing when, in reality, it had meant everything. Nethel's feathers ruffled as she shook her head. The smile faded from her yellow lips and she stepped back into the doorway, watching cars idle up and down the quiet street. In this part of town, nobody even noticed or cared about a missing front door.

  “She has fled to the Library with Ehferea at her back. We must wait. We cannot track her there.” My heart thumped painfully in my chest. The Akashic Library. I wanted to go there. Since James had first told me about it at the restaurant, I had wanted to go. Boyd would be there. I could talk to him. I could tell him my problems like I always had and he would tell me what to do. I decided that it wouldn't hurt to ask.

  “Why not?” James placed a hand on my shoulder. Nethel wasn't answering me, just letting the breeze blow her feathered hair back from her swan like neck and taking slow, shallow breaths of the evening air.

  “We can't go there, Neil, not yet.” I challenged him with my eyes.

  “Why?” I asked as he joined Nethel by the front door. It was obvious that he knew more than he was letting on. I wouldn't have even been surprised to learn that he'd been there. “If Jarrod's there, we need to follow her and get him back.”

  “Jarrod is not there,” Nethel replied quietly. James turned around, his face ashen.

  “Because he's coming down the street towards us.” I stumbled to the door, tripping over empty alcohol bottles and a broken vase full of moldy flowers. It was Jarrod all right. He hadn't seen the missing front door yet. His head was down and a scarf was wrapped across his neck so that it covered nearly half of his face. From his somber appearance, I was guessing that he knew about Margaret.

  “We have to get out of here,” I said, my hand at my throat. If he found me in his trashed house and called the police, I was screwed. James nodded and we retreated to the sliding glass doors at the back of the living room. Nethel followed us and we closed the door slowly behind us. The backyard was really just a patch of dead grass with a short, chain link fence. We let ourselves out and retreated down the back alley and into the parking lot of a neighboring complex. I breathed a sigh of relief and peeped around the corner for any signs that Jarrod had seen us. There was nothing.

  “I've been thinking,” James began slowly. His voice was so low that both Nethel and I leaned forward to hear. “Jessica is, as of right now, priority one, of course, but we can't follow her to the Library. She has more power there, as a spirit. We'd be less than helpless, our instruments won't even work there so we won't be able to send her on and I...” He trailed off and spun on his heel to face me. His navy eyes were bright with passion as he gripped my shoulders softly. “Will you help me?” He pleaded, his gaze boring into mine. He recognized that kinship between us even if he didn't know exactly why it was there. I was going to have to tell him soon. I was going to have to spill my guts and lay them across the floor for him to see. I swallowed painfully. “I've been selfish. I want to find Sydney, I want to save her.” When I looked over at Nethel, was smiling.

  “Yes,” I whispered back softly, knowing this was a painful first step for both us. “I was hoping you would say that.”

  James kept up his determination as Nethel led us down back alleys and along streets I'd never walked. We were taking a roundabout way to the house to avoid cops, students, anyone that knew anything about the death of Margaret Cedar or the trashing of Jarrod's house. To get to where Sydney was now, Nethel had told us we'd need the car. James hadn't liked that. His face had drooped and in his eyes, I had seen the pain and the fear and the loss hit him like a freight train.

  I kept my eyes on the cracks in the pavement and tried not to notice. It wasn't that I didn't want to comfort him but I was starting to remember, too. His eyes, the way his hands shook, his memories, they were like a strong breeze, stirring up my own memories like the autumn leaves that littered our front yard. I was trying my best to rake them all back together. I squeezed my eyes shut against images of bloody carpets and slit throats and opened them to the house. Anita was in the garden watching the two of us suspiciously. Not good.

  “I'll get the keys,” I whispered as I raced up the front steps and inside. Anita didn't stop me but her eyes followed me, boring into my spine and making me stumble. This wasn't right. I didn't want to be blamed for causing pain to anyone. When we left, I was going to make a point to drive the long way around the block, away from Margaret's house and her grieving family.

  I grabbed the keys from the bowl and
found Grandma Willa watching me from the living room.

  “Going out?” She asked and I could tell from her voice that she was back, at least for the moment. I nodded but didn't speak. My throat was too dry. Jessica's made it hard for you to come back here. You don't know how long it will be. You don't know what will happen. Tell her now, Neil. Life is short. “Be careful, Neil,” she said. I turned away and placed my hand on the doorknob. My heart was on fire. Now or never, Neil. It's now or never. I spun back around.

  “Grandma Willa,” I said. She put her knitting down and folded her hands in her lap. “Thanks for everything and I...” The words stuck in my throat, refused to come out. The blood was still running freely from my wounds and only I could apply the first bandage. “I love you.” Her face lit up and just like that, I knew I'd made a difference in not only myself but in her, too.

  “I love you, too, Neil.” We smiled at each other for a moment and then she said, as if she knew exactly what was going on, “Run along now and do what you have to do.” I nodded and turned around, letting my hand linger on the doorknob before leaving. Even if I never get to come back, even if Jessica has ruined this for me, there will be something else and it’ll be okay. I know it will.

  I pushed the door open and found James with his hands tucked nervously behind his back. Nethel was waiting for us at the end of the driveway and Anita was pruning the roses angrily. Snip. Snip. Snip. She was acting as if they’d personally offended her. When she saw the keys in my hands, her eyes widened.

  “You don’t have a license,” she said, pausing, her green clippers holding a half severed branch hostage. Defuse the situation, now. I took a deep breath and smiled at her, really smiled, let my feelings for my grandmother come out through my lips.

  “I don’t,” I said, purposely reaching for James’ hand and pressing the metal against his cold skin. Is mine that cold now, too? I didn’t have time to speculate. Proof of my own demise was a little hard to swallow. It was something I was going to have to deal with later. James bit down on his own lip, blood spilled, trickled down his chin and dripped to stain the darkness of his sweater. He ran his hand across his face, red smearing the back of his pale hand and I noticed with surprise that there was already an extra X on the front of his lip. “But my friend James does. You haven’t met James, yet, have you, Anita?” She shook her head and the suspicion in her eyes lifted, at least a little. I couldn’t tell if she had heard about the park incident or if there was something else. We couldn’t stay long enough to find out.

  “Nice to meet you, James,” she said, the clippers closing finally and releasing the branch from its misery. He nodded and grumbled something under his breath.

  “I see what you’re doing,” he said, leaning over and whispering to me. “But I can’t drive. I can’t, Neil.” I kept smiling at Anita and started to drag him towards the Seville. I threw my hood up and tucked my hair back before grasping him gently by the forearms.

  “You can,” I said and then paused. I watched the sun reflecting off of an oil spot on the driveway. It looked dark at first, black, but when the sun hit it just right, there were all of the colors in the rainbow. Life was like that. Things might seem bleak but sometimes, sometimes there were hidden colors. I smiled. I was starting to sound like Abe. My inner cynic roared protest and I pushed it back. I met James eyes. “Do it for Sydney.” James didn’t move for a moment and my heart stopped beating. Had I gone too far?

  He closed his fist, squeezing the keys in his hand for a moment before putting them to the lock. A grin whispered up from my chest and took over my face. I was proud of him and I couldn’t help but show it.

  “Let’s go get her,” he whispered as I closed the passenger door behind me. “Let’s go free Sydney.”

  Nethel guided us from the air, her pale body shimmering like the inside of an abalone shell. First, she was pink, then yellow, then blue. I leaned forward, hands on the dashboard and watched her massive wings carry her over trees and under power lines. I sat back and checked James out from the corner of my eye. He was trembling and worrying at his lip again. Blood was trickling freely now. I reached over and pressed my hand across his mouth. His eyes slid to mine for just a second before snapping back to the road.

  “Stop,” I said. I was getting better at disassociating the sight of blood with my memories but I wasn’t perfect. I folded my sweatshirt over my hand and wiped the red away. James didn’t protest but he didn’t look at me again, either. His eyes were stuck to the road like they were glued there. I slumped back in my seat and watched Nethel turn sharply towards the right, down an alley. James came to a complete stop, flicking on the blinker and practically rolling into the narrow lane.

  “You drive like an old person,” I said, trying to make a joke and avoiding the blood stain on my sleeve. James had a real reason to be scared. His phobia was perfectly justifiable and, considering we were on our way to send Sydney to the Library, he was bound to be upset but I felt like I had to try.

  “Do you like baseball?” He asked me. I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. He was back to his anxious babbling. I smiled softly. Of all the types of nervous ticks to have…At least I could get some information out of him.

  “Do I look like the kind of person that enjoys competitive sports?” James tried to smile, bless his little, black heart, he really did, but it came out more as a grimace. I tried to lighten the mood. “I like chess. Oh, and origami. Paper cranes are my secret love interests. You?” James slammed on the brakes, sending us both straining against the confines of our seat belts. When I looked up, I saw that we had turned out of the alley and were at a stoplight. The light was still yellow.

  “Baseball's okay, I guess,” he continued, as if nothing had happened. I doubted that he was really conscious of what he was saying. His eyes told me he was thinking about one thing and one thing only. Sydney. “I don't really know much about it but my friends were all into it so I've seen some games.” I smiled back and tried not to think of Jessica and the baseball player she'd dated right before she died. This wasn't her time. This was mine and James' and then it was going to be James' and Sydney's. Later, I would dig deeper and try to uncover the landmine she'd placed inside my heart. Right now, it was dormant. “But you know what’s really great?” He asked, his tone unbelievably upbeat. It was a good act but still, that’s all it was. An act. “Figure skating. Figure skating has got to be my favorite Olympic sport.”

  “James,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to be rude but I was starting to get worried. The more he talked, the lighter his tone became and the more his hands tightened around the steering wheel. I tried to keep my tone light but I wanted him to know I was serious. “Are you going to be okay? Because if you're not, I'm not letting you go. Do you understand?” Silence reigned king for a moment. I reached into the center console and pulled out a pack of gum. I tried to hand him a piece but he waved it away.

  “I'm ready,” he whispered slowly as the trees outside the window cast shadows across his pale face. “And I know she's more than ready. That's what counts.” I nodded and we drove the rest of the way without speaking again. I wondered if I'd made a mistake but I felt in my heart that I had to ask. Sydney deserved better. I'd needed James to help me with Jessica. Today, I would help him.

  After a twisting maze of side streets and a dirt road that led to nowhere, we came to a stop outside of a rusted fence with a missing gate and a busted padlock hanging from a hole in the chain link. Nethel circled, like a massive eagle honing in on her pray, and landed on the ground next to the car. I opened my door tentatively as James set the emergency brake and was glad that I still had the pocketknife in my boot. This looked like the kind of area where thugs were more of a worry than demons. Looking around, I had no clue where we were at. I tried to ask Nethel but her gaze was directed elsewhere.

  “I must attend to Ehferea,” she replied cryptically, in a voice devoid of emotion. “I will return.” She folded her wings behind her and paused, glancing at James who
was gazing past the fence and down a trail. Her face tightened for a brief moment with worry. She leaned in and brushed her strange, yellow lips across my ear. “He must do this. It is absolutely vital to the healing of his soul.” When she stood back up, her face was clean, like a whiteboard, erased. James turned back around, his eyes partially glazed over. Nethel didn’t even need to whisper. He wouldn’t have heard her anyway. She smiled at him briefly, tenderness evident in her gaze, and left in a swirl of dust. James blinked like he was coming out of a trance and tried to smile at me.

  “Ready?” He said and I could only wonder if he were asking me or himself. I watched his face for signs of distress or regret but there was only sadness. I decided to keep him in my field of vision at all times. Talking was one thing, doing was another.

  Without any further clues from the harpies, we were left to wander the area alone. There wasn’t much to find though, just an abandoned house that was really more like a shack and lots and lots of garbage. People had apparently been using this area as a dumping ground for mattresses, TVs, barbeques and a whole lot of refrigerator parts. White doors lay on top of old washers and dryers and made it hard for me to see the demon sleeping among them. James spotted her first.

  “There she is,” he whispered as my hand touched the bag with my harp for reassurance. It was comforting to know it was there even if I knew it wouldn't help in this situation. I pulled the strap from my shoulder and threaded it through my belt loop and then back through itself to make a knot. Things had gotten messy before. They were bound to be messy again. I didn’t want to lose the harp this time. I tugged on the bag to make sure it was secure and nodded at James to continue. I hadn’t shown him the harp yet but I would, after this was all over.