Sleight: Book One of the AVRA-K

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Sleight: Book One of the AVRA-K Page 12

by Jennifer Sommersby


  My mother’s handwriting.

  I watched the two women talk for a moment longer before Marlene tucked the big envelope under her arm and colected the remaining mail. I dropped the curtain just as Marlene surveyed the courtyard and looked at the window where I was sitting. She couldn’t have seen me spying on her through the curtain, could she?

  I continued to watch through the gauzy material as she thanked Irina and turned toward Ted’s trailer. She wasn’t coming to me with the mail. My mail. From my dead mother.

  What is this game you’re playing, Mother? Sending me mail from the grave?

  I waited for Marlene to reemerge, and after about ten minutes, she did, her hands devoid of the envelope. I was so confused…I hurt…and I desperately needed a shower, my body covered in blood and dirt, shivering from the rain, muscles throbbing.

  But I needed to talk to Irina. I needed to know where the envelope had come from.

  Instead of showering, I dampened a cloth and gently dabbed at the tender skin on my legs to wash off as much of the blood as possible. Fresh clothes and a rubber band for my hair, and I was good to go. Exhausted, probably suffering from some degree of shock, but nevertheless determined.

  Irina had gone toward the mess tent after she parted ways with Marlene. I decided to look there first, maybe grab a banana and some hot tea. My stomach was stil unsettled but I was shaky. I needed some fuel in the tank.

  Irina was sitting in the tent, having her own afternoon snack, thumbing through a stack of sheet music.

  “Hey, Irina.”

  “Gemma, hi, sweetie. Sit down,” she patted the tabletop. “How are you? You’re home early today. You feeling sick?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” I said, holding up my banana. I sat down on the seat next to her. From our table in the northwestern-most corner, we had a ful view of the near-empty mess tent. “I was curious. I saw you with the mail a few minutes ago.” She cast her eyes downward.

  “There was a letter, in the big manila envelope. I saw it in Marlene’s hands.” I paused. “It was for me, wasn’t it?” She nodded and looked me in the eye again. “Yes, it was addressed to you.”

  “Who was it from?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Irina…you do know. Who was it from?”

  Her face was sad, her eyes rimmed red. “It was from your mother.”

  “How’s that possible? She’s been gone for almost two months,” I said.

  “I don’t know. She must’ve had someone mail it for her. Maybe the hospital found it somewhere and sent it on her behalf?” Seemed plausible enough. Maybe Delia had hidden it somewhere in her room and the new occupant found it. “Or maybe it just got lost in the mail. That happens pretty often, yes?”

  “Yeah…maybe.” I gave Irina a faint smile.

  “What are you seeing, Gemma?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been having dreams. About you. Nightmares. Something is very wrong. I see darkness,” she said. “Be ready.”

  “Ready for what?” I lowered my voice and looked around the tent to make sure no one was near us. We were alone in the tent, except the whittler who’d returned to his regular position in the corner. His back was to me, though Irina couldn’t see him. While she knew about the shades, I’d never come right out and told her.

  She’d guessed—she knew about stuff like that, and I trusted her.

  During the privacy of my first few music lessons, she’d said she knew there was something different about me. She helped me to not be afraid of the shades, to understand that they wouldn’t hurt me.

  Her advice and support helped, but even as a kid, I thought maybe my ability to see these beings was an early sign of the same ilness that afflicted my poor mother.

  “Over there,” Irina said, nodding her head toward the other side of the space. “Do you see him?”

  My eyes were fixed on the tablecloth. I didn’t want to see whomever it was she was referring to.

  “Gemma…do you see him?”

  “Who is it, Irina?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t see his body, but he sees you. He is whispering your name over and over again.”

  I began to shiver. The few bites of banana climbed upward from my gut into the back of my throat. They’d never spoken to me. Not until Alicia, in Henry’s car. Now this new shade, too?

  “Send him away,” I whispered.

  “He won’t hurt you. Just look. Can you see him?” I forced my eyes from the table. A man, young, dressed in an antique-white, button-down shirt, brown trousers, a wrinkled black trench coat over the top, was standing near the entrance to the tent.

  Wel attired, he looked gentle. I didn’t feel fear looking at him. He didn’t wave, didn’t gesture at al, just a pleasant curve of his mouth.

  When our eyes made contact, he said my name. “Gemma.” Soft, not threatening. Then he turned and walked out.

  “What did he want? Who was he?”

  “He whispered something, in Italian, I think. He said Libro, libro magia, ci’ondolo. Does that make sense to you?” I shook my head no. I’d only taken basic Spanish during my years of tutoring—libro? I was pretty sure that meant book in Spanish. Irina spoke English and Russian, but not Italian.

  “I gotta go,” I said. “Please, please don’t tel anyone about this.”

  “Of course, Gemma, of course.”

  It was pushing 3 o’clock. Junie and Ash would be home soon, and I knew Junie’d come sniffing around, wanting to know where I’d gotten off to. And I wanted to go into Ted’s trailer, see if I could find the envelope from Delia. A flash of anger hit me when I thought of Marlene withholding something so important from me.

  But as I had yet to open the box of Delia’s personal effects from New Horizons, maybe Mar was waiting for me to be ready. Maybe she was protecting me. Again.

  As I exited the mess tent, I saw Irwin folowing his brother up the stairs into Ted’s trailer. I couldn’t go snooping around if they were in there. I could try being direct, just walk in and ask if I’d gotten anything in the mail. But then Marlene would: a. know I’d been spying on her; or, b. say no, I hadn’t received any mail, and then it would piss me off even further that she’d lied to me.

  Instead, I decided to go hide in my trailer until such time that I could sneak over and have a look around. I was so totaly exhausted, a nap wouldn’t have been out of the question. But an unsettled feeling wrapped around me like a second skin. And I was afraid to fal asleep.

  I turned on my computer and Googled an Italian/English dictionary. Libro, libro magia, ci’ondolo.

  Book. Magic book. Charm, or pendant.

  The words the man whispered were about the AVRA-K.

  I desperately needed to talk to Henry.

  After tearing apart my bedding, checking my pockets, and emptying my book bag, I decided to run to Marlene’s car to see if I’d dropped my cel phone on the seat. I’d text Henry, beg for his forgiveness, beg harder for him to cal me. But I knocked Junie backward as the thin trailer door flung outward. Instead of faling, she balanced herself against her brother, who stood close behind.

  “Gemma! Oh my God, are you okay? What happened to you?” Junie squealed, pushing me back into the dim trailer. Ash folowed right behind and closed the door against the drizzle.

  “Hey.” I tried to act normal. Ash made himself comfortable at the table and proceeded to light Marlene’s scented candles.

  “What happened to you today? Where’d you go? We looked everywhere for you, and Ms. Spitzer was, like, freaking out, thinking you’d been abducted or ran away, or worse,” Junie said, her voice shril. “They almost put the school on lockdown, dude, seriously.” I put my finger to my lips to get her to dial it down a notch.

  “Marlene must’ve forgotten to cal the office,” I said.

  “Why did you leave?” Junie said, her voice less grating.

  “I wasn’t feeling wel, Junie. No big deal.”

  “Summer told Ash that you left photo
to go take pictures, but a girl in my computer class said she saw you running from the student parking lot toward the stadium.”

  Ash was passing his fingers over the candle flame, nudging it back and forth as it flickered. He was watching me, his eyes suspicious.

  “The more pressing question,” he chimed in, “is why you were in the student parking lot when you not only don’t have a car but when you were supposed to be taking pictures in and around the school.” Ash’s voice was low, almost a growl.

  They both stared at me, awaiting my response. I’d been double-teamed and was unprepared to explain anything, especialy about something so unimportant as skipping a few classes.

  “Geeze, it was just a rotten morning, okay?” I said, hoping that would suffice so they would move on to a different topic. “I caled Marlene. She picked me up. Not a big deal, I swear.”

  “Wel…do you want to talk about it?” Junie said.

  “Yes, Gemma, do you want to talk about it?” Ash snarled.

  Here we were again. I was so tired of his crap. “Don’t you have something better to do than annoy me?” I turned to Junie. “No, it’s nothing. I’m fine. I just needed to come home. Can we please move on to something else now?”

  “I saw him, Gemma. I saw you sitting in his car,” Ash said. “I don’t know what lies you’re feeding your aunt to avoid the heat for skipping.” He lowered his voice. “If he hurt you, you’ve asked for it by leading him on.” He bit off the words like they tasted bad in his mouth.

  “I’m not leading anybody on.”

  “Did he touch you?”

  “Ash!” Junie interrupted.

  “Get out. Now,” I hissed.

  He shook his head at me and smirked. I wanted to slap the look right off his face.

  “Whatever. It’s your funeral.” He blew out the candles and pushed himself up from the table. He moved past Junie and stopped to give me the mother of al dirty looks.

  “Actualy, you’ve got it al wrong. Manhandling me is your MO, not Henry’s.”

  I flinched as he raised his hand. He snorted at me as he pushed it through his mussed hair. “God, relax. I wouldn’t waste the energy.” He flew down the stairs without bothering to shut the door.

  “What an insensitive jackass. Just ignore him. I do. Besides, my dad’l whip him into shape,” Junie said, her hand on my arm. “You look tired. Maybe you realy are sick.”

  “I dunno. Maybe. Thanks for being concerned.”

  “What are sisters for?” she smiled. “I gotta go work out. You gonna be okay?”

  I nodded. She gave me a quick perfumed hug and bounced out of the trailer. I couldn’t help feeling a pang of envy. Junie’s life was so simple, so straightforward.

  Leaning against the table, I recaled that I’d zipped my cel phone in the pocket of my windbreaker when I’d gone for my run. I fished it out and held it in my hand, reliving the earlier text message from Henry that had set this whole thing in motion. I flipped the phone open and the display screen flashed to indicate a handful of missed cals (from Junie and Ash) as wel as a single text. From Henry, sent at 12:22 pm. Three hours ago.

  The phone felt heavy in my hand, as if weighted down by the unanswered message. I was embarrassed about what had happened in Henry’s car. About how I reacted, my lack of compassion, my assumptions surrounding the truth of what I was experiencing. The look on his face when I demanded he unlock the doors, that look was burned into my brain. An honest assessment of the situation led to only one conclusion: Henry was reaching out to me. He had given me information that he felt I needed, information that other people were withholding for whatever reason. And I had shut down. Worse than that, I’d run away from him.

  The longer I twirled the phone around between my thumb and forefinger, the more I wanted—no, needed—to talk to him.

  I opened the phone and clicked on his text message, prepared for the words that might very wel seal the demise of whatever this was going on between us.

  I’m so sorry. Worried about u. Plz don’t shut me out. Cal/txt when ur ready 2 talk…letter G :) xoxo HD

  I exhaled a sigh of heartfelt relief, grateful and humbled that Henry hadn’t told me to pound sand. I wrestled with how to respond within the 160-character limit.

  Hi. Sry for being so lame. Cal when u can. Need 2 talk. /G/

  Direct, to the point. I didn’t know where he’d gone after I left, only that his car had moved from its parking spot before Marlene retrieved me.

  Within moments of sending the text, my phone rang.

  “Hey,” I answered, my heart pounding.

  “Gemma, are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I talked to Ted. Thanks for the tip.”

  “I just think it’s important that you know what you’re dealing with. I don’t want to cause problems for you, or for your uncle, but there’s major stuff going on that you’re going to need to be prepared for.”

  I considered teling him about the freakiness in the field, about the weird vibe in the meal tent with Irina and the mystery guy. Libro magia. Ci’ondolo.

  “What are you doing right now?”

  “Waiting. At a crappy diner.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “For your cal.” He paused. “I’ve been worried about you al afternoon. I didn’t feel like going home to an empty house. Lucian left town this morning, so it’s just me and the staff.” He had staff. Wow.

  “I need to see you. Can you come out?”

  “On my way,” he said, hanging up.

  I texted Aunt Marlene to let her know I was expecting company.

  She caled me right back.

  “What’s up, kiddo?”

  “Henry’s coming to see me.”

  “You want me to bring you anything? Coffee or tea? Cookies?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I said. “I’l see how things go when he gets here. You don’t have to wait on us, Auntie. We can help ourselves.”

  “It’s my life’s purpose to serve you, young lady,” she teased.

  “Wel, you just let me know. Oh, and hey—between you and me, Gems, I don’t think it’s wise to have Henry seen by too many of the company members, being the money man’s kid and whatnot. Might make them, you know, feel like they’re being spied on.” I didn’t much care what the others thought about Henry’s presence in my life, but if Marlene and Ted wanted me to lay low, then fine.

  Whatever.

  “And this goes without saying, but it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for Henry and Uncle Ted to talk at some point. Henry knows a lot of what’s been going on, just as a matter of circumstance, but only when he’s ready. This can’t be easy for him.” I stil felt a little burned about how this whole thing came to light.

  “It seems a little unfair that everyone knew about the book and stuff except me.”

  “Not everyone. Plus, we don’t know how much Lucian has shared with Henry. You’d think they’d be closer, since it’s just the two of them, but it’s hard to say. And anything we’ve kept from you has been for your own good.” That’s what parents said when they’d been caught in a lie. It was for your own good, dear.

  Whatever their intentions may have been, I knew for a fact Marlene was keeping more from me than just the thing about the AVRA-K.

  Like the letter from Delia. But I’d have to wait for the right time. I didn’t want to start anything with Henry’s imminent arrival.

  I sighed. “Yeah, fine, but it stil sorta sucks. And if Henry wants to talk to Ted, that’s his choice,” I said. “But I won’t put Henry in an even weirder situation than he’s already in.”

  “I’l leave that to you,” she said. “Okay, toots, cal me if you need me. You shouldn’t have too many interruptions. Mattias is working the hel out of Ash and Junie here in the big top, so I think you’l be able to talk without interruption.” I thanked her and hung up, then tucked into the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror was rough—dark circles under my eyes, face paler than usual. Great. I quickly puled some product th
rough my hair in an effort to calm the frizz in my mane. Channeling my inner Junie, I went so far as to powder my face and apply a thin coat of lip gloss. She would be so proud.

  I did a quick tidy of the trailer, moved aside school crap, straightened blankets, wiped down the table, picked up my dirty running clothes from the floor, sprayed some Febreze to get rid of Irwin’s pipe smel, tried on five different shirts, puled my hair back, let it loose again. By the time there was a knock on the trailer door, I’d worked up a sweat.

  “Come in,” I said, smoothing my shirt one last time. A white one, button-down, roled-up sleeves, untucked.

  Henry climbed the smal stairs, his height even more impressive under the shortened trailer ceiling. He held a sizable bouquet of fresh-cut flowers and a legal-sized parcel wrapped in paper the color of a tropical ocean.

  “Hey, Gemma,” he smiled. He looked conflicted, a mix of worry and hesitation, but happy, too. He seemed as relieved to see me as I was to see him.

  “Umm, these are for you.” He extended the flowers.

  “Thank you. They’re beautiful. I’l have Marlene get a vase,” I said, accepting the heavy bundle.

  “An eco-friendly bouquet,” he teased. “Even the paper is biodegradable.”

  “Good man. Doing your part to save the planet, I see.” He sat down across from me at the table. “Oh, and this is for you, too.” He handed over the parcel, watching me intently as I unwrapped it. “For your violin. You mentioned that you play as part of the show, so I thought this might be a suitable gift.” He paused. “I hope these aren’t duplicates of what you already have.” I leafed through the stack of pages; I had none of this music, though many of the compositions had been on my wish list for eons.

  A few Paganini, some Vivaldi. I was touched at such a thoughtful present. Marlene was the only person who ever bought me new music, but as she wasn’t a musician, she never seemed to get it quite right. Henry’s choices were informed and wel suited to my tastes and abilities. I resisted the urge to launch myself across the table and throw my arms around his neck.

 

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