by Amanda Jay
And this is how he will always remember her. Half her face, lit by the bright sun outside, giving him those few extra moments, making him feel like he was as urgent as life itself.
OF DRAWERS AND BUTTONS
My mother had a drawer in her wardrobe, only it wasn’t just a drawer. It was the most wondrous treasure trove, rich in baubles and jewels, and if I was good, I was allowed to play with these trinkets. I remember her box of buttons. Why she had a box of such exotic and decorative buttons I will never know but nothing gave me greater joy than sorting through these buttons, arranging them by colour, size, originality. Even back then I liked to sort things. The buttons depended on me, you see, and it was my job to make sure they were in their right groups, surrounded by their similarly shaped friends.
I wish I could sort my thoughts that easily. Decide which thoughts should be happy, which ones should be sad, which of them should be exotic, or colourful. But things get confused after a while. After you lose someone. Thoughts that are supposed to be happy just leave you feeling empty. Thoughts that once made you sad now just make you bitter, or worse, angry. And then there are those thoughts that don’t let you feel anything at all, that leave you numb, and wishing you were still sorting buttons.
TOM
Twin Faced God be damned, could he be more clumsy? It was like he was asking to get caught.
Felix stumbled along behind Skii, who had charitably agreed to take up the front and keep a look out for the City Guard. Though they needn’t have worried so much. No one paid the slightest bit of attention to the three underbelly pests, for that was what Felix was starting to look like too, who crawled along the decrepit streets.
But that wasn't what was annoying Tom. It was the way Felix had offhandedly dismissed J. R Muriel that got under his skin. It was ridiculous, he said, that the professor would have any real answers. The only reason that his name was on the typographer to begin with was because he had gifted his old one to Ezra many years ago and Ezra had passed it down to him. Well, if he knew so much, then why did he need their help to begin with? This was ridiculous. And Skii had actually agreed with Felix. Tom was used to Skii disagreeing with a few of his ideas from time to time— granted, some of them could be a little reckless, but to completely side with someone else, well, that was new.
He followed the two of them, mumbling crossly to himself, relenting slightly by imagining all the food he would buy once Felix paid them. They scurried down a small side street, tucked away from the town centre. So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts, that he almost didn’t notice the two of them had stopped in front of a large house.
“What are we stopping for?” he asked, the edge to his voice going unnoticed. “We need to get off the streets, you know. It isn’t safe for him—“
“This is it,” Felix nodded towards the house.
Tom would have asked if Felix was joking, if he’d found the words. He had seen some large houses in his time. Bearoux knows he and Skii have tried their hands at getting into their kitchens a few times too. But those houses, and there weren’t very many of them in Mliss to begin with, belonged to a different breed of people. They were occupied by city officials, mostly, and those who were able to hoard the last of the remaining Pulse Stones and sell them back to the city at phenomenally inflated prices. But to think his own family lived in a place like this, when there were times Tom was convinced he would die of cold…
Felix remained indifferent however, as his eyes darted up and down the street.
“You’re sure then, that the house will be empty?” Skii asked. She hadn’t looked over at Tom and Tom knew why.
“Ioana and Bayou would have left by now. They were supposed to go earlier but they didn’t want to leave me. Once I left…” Felix shrugged. Loyalty was important in Mliss but not as important as the mouths left to feed back home.
The small gate that opened into the garden was locked but Felix led them around to a side wall. Using a few bricks that were jutting out, he climbed up and pulled himself over.
“After you,” Skii said, making eye contact with him for the first time in ages. Tom looked away.
He swung himself over the wall with ease. The garden that surrounded the house was lush and green. The first truly green patch of land that Tom had ever seen. It barely rained in Mliss, and any water they received in the Underbelly had to be scavenged and rationed. Even their plants were treated better than he was. Tom swallowed and forced himself not to be distracted. He was here for one thing only— to find answers, so that he could get paid and then forget all about Felix and get on with his life. His life, he kept telling himself. His life that was very simple until this boy who looked like him appeared.
Skii landed on the soft grass next to him and looked around uncertainly, as Felix had already made his way up to the painted wooden door that led to the kitchen. He reached under the second flower pot that lined the short stone step and hesitated a moment, staring at the key in his hand.
“We should get inside,” Tom ventured, and Felix shook himself out of his daze.
“Sorry, of course, just a moment,” the words tumbled out of him clumsily, like the way he walked. He put the key in the lock and turned it briskly, holding the door open for Tom and Skii to hurry inside.
The first thing that hit Tom was the smell. Wood, he assumed, oak perhaps? Or cedar? Laced with the same earthy musk he recognised from the library. And warm bread, and soap. Mostly, it smelled clean. He half-knowingly ran his finger over shelf, and it came away dirt-free. In fact, he thought his finger left a smudge. He looked around the kitchen, at the pots and pans hung neatly on the wall, at the large wooden chopping board left by the counter next to the basin, at the few small plants that glinted in the light on the windowsill, and a corner of his heart that he didn’t even know existed started to ache. Felix must have noticed his look, because he opened a cupboard and pulled out a small tin box.
“Would you like some biscuits?” he offered.
Tom’s stomach rumbled but he tore his eyes away from Felix and trained them towards the staircase. “We shouldn’t be wasting time, mucking about. Let’s start looking for whatever it is you think you'll find.”
Felix put the box back in the cupboard and led the way out of the kitchen to a small landing. The wallpaper was peeling in a few places, and the sparse cushions that were scattered on the chairs looked faded and threadbare.
“What happened here?” Skip asked, pointing to a spot in the wall near the staircase. There was a pronounced dent and a small hole which had caused the wallpaper around it to fray more than usual.
Felix looked at it a long while, his brow furrowed. “Someone must have tripped on the staircase or something,” he said. “I can’t really remember.”
Skii shot Tom a look, but continued to follow Felix up the staircase. He hesitated again outside a door.
“This was her bedroom,” he explained. “It was where she would have been, before, you know. I thought it would be the best place to start.”
He took a deep breath with his eyes closed, his hand on the doorknob. It made Tom want to reach out and slap him, but Felix warily pushed the door open.
The floral blue and white curtains were pulled shut, casting a cool shadow over the room. There was a four-poster bed in the middle which took up most of the space, quite unlike anything Tom had ever seen before. He ventured towards it softly, almost like he was afraid of it. He reached out to touch a pillow but saw the dirt beneath his fingernails and quickly withdrew his hand. This wouldn't do, he was here for something else, not to get distracted, he reminded himself sternly.
Skii looked exactly how he felt, as she lowered herself onto a small chair that sat in front of a desk of sorts. She was running her fingers over a small box, opening it, looking inside.
“Pens,” she muttered.
“Looks like Ioana has cleaned up in here,” Felix mumbled. “They told her not to, the City Guard that is, when she first went missing. I guess they reckoned it was alr
ight now.”
Felix spoke as if he was in a daze. Like he was trying to remember something.
“A pen is missing,” Skii said, dismissively, like she wanted to break to gloomy silence that they were drowning in. “See, the cap is in this box, but the pen itself…” she looked down below the desk.
“Oh, here it is.” She reached down below to pick it up. “Hang on, Felix, look at this?”
Curiosity got the better of Tom, and he crouched down next to where Skii was, on the floor, under the little desk. There was a piece of paper taped to the bottom of it, which she pried out delicately.
"Looks like someone wanted to keep this a secret," she said, passing it over to Felix who was starting to look uncomfortable.
He took it wordlessly and sat on the bed, his brow crinkled.
"Well? What does it say?" Skii ordered, irritated by his hesitation.
Felix cleared his throat, and read.
"I am sure I don't even cross your mind. Though you are always in mine. And I wish you the best for your future. You deserve everything you want in this world. If one day you ever need someone to talk to, or are in need of anything at all then I will be here. For you, I will always be here.
Frank"
"Who's Frank?"
Felix's eyes had glazed over slightly. He shook his head and clutched a pillow to his chest.
“C-could you please give me a moment?” he asked, rubbing his temples. Tom knew it— this was all getting to be too much for him. He hoped Felix would still hold up his end of the deal and pay them.
Skii looked over at Tom and they wordlessly exited the room.
"Who d'you reckon this Frank is? Some sort of lover?" Skii whispered the moment they were out of earshot
“Like I care. This is madness.”
“Why agree to it then?”
“Come on, Skii. You saw the idiot. This’ll be the easiest money we have ever scored.”
Skii’s eyes narrowed on him but she didn’t argue.
“Besides, have you seen this place?” Tom gestured around. “This is madness, I tell you.”
He wandered down the corridor. There were a few odd shelves and books, a vase or two. No pictures though. He had wished there were photographs. He would have liked to see what his father and mother looked like. Which of them he took after. But then he caught ahold of himself again. It was best he didn’t know anyway. Not after what they had done to him.
There was another door, and Tom tested the door knob. It swung open easily, almost welcoming him in.
“I don’t think you should go in there,” Skii warned, but Tom slid in anyway.
It was his room. He knew it the moment he set foot in it. A small bed in a corner, decked with three fluffy looking pillows and a soft, thick blanket. Tom felt his pulse quicken as he eyed it. A green rug lay at the foot of the bed, worn and faded, like everything else in the house. The walls weren’t bare in this room. Felix had pasted cutouts from newspapers and magazines, mostly reproductions of paintings: mountains and beaches and families on holiday.
There was a bookshelf too, crammed to the brim with various bound volumes. Tom pulled one of them out. There were no pictures or illustrations, but Tom thumbed through them distractedly, letting the familiar smell drift up to him. There was something in Tom’s throat that made it difficult for him to swallow. He was suddenly more aware of how hard his heart was thumping in his chest.
Skii put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think we are going to find anything here, Tom cat. Maybe we should go poke around outside?”
“Sure,” he replied gruffly, replacing the book back on the shelf.
“Tom?”
“Yeah?”
Skii hesitated. “Nevermind,” she said. “Let’s go back outside.” But as always, her eyes had eclipsed her words. I’m sorry, she said.
***
Felix had come out of the room a few minutes later, his ears a little red but other than that he seemed to have shaken himself out of his daze and was back to business.
“Look, I don't know who Frank is, or what that letter meant, or even if it meant anything at all” he had decided, “but let's put that aside for now. The only person who ever had any type of visitor was my father, so I think we should also go in and look through his office.”
The door to Ezra’s office, which was tucked away on the other side of the large house, was wide open. Felix had mumbled that was strange, and it proved to be true. Whatever had been in the room before, Tom would never know. It was completely bare.
The shelves, which were curved slightly, their middles once sagging with the weight of books, were now empty, save for the newspaper which lined them. The walls had rectangular white patches on them, as if someone had taken down papers that had been posted up for a long while. The desk was empty, so were the drawers.
“Who took everything?” Skii had asked.
“The City Guard, most likely,” Felix had replied, looking crestfallen. “Since he’s a suspect, maybe they thought there would be something there that would, I don’t know, help them convict him or something.”
“So what do you want to do now?” Tom asked.
But it was Skii that replied, “Let’s look around a little more. We don’t know if we’ve missed anything else.” She wasn't being unreasonable to try a little harder. They had already missed their shift at the Wheel. That meant a dock in their pay when they did go back and they had to make it up somehow.
So they spent the better part of the day wandering through the house, which Tom found to be completely useless, given they didn’t even know what they were looking for. It was more for Felix’s benefit than anything else.
Skii kept asking Felix questions as if it would help, even though Tom was becoming increasingly certain that Felix was coming undone.
"Where are your parents from? What about their family? Was there anyone they might have spoken to about... this situation?"
But it didn’t seem like Felix knew much. Ezra was from a farm, he said. They had grown yams, or was it taro? His mother has left home when she was young, and Ezra never spoke of his family. He might have mentioned a sister once, but never spoke of her. Felix reckoned she was dead. Drowned, perhaps, although he couldn’t remember from where he got that idea. But that was all he knew.
Finally, Tom left Skii and Felix sorting through a few random boxes they found, extracted the tin of biscuits that Felix had offered him earlier and settled himself in the garden.
Skii joined him out a short while later.
“It’d be easier to find something if we knew what we were looking for,” Tom shrugged as a way of explanation.
“Poor kid is hopeless,” Skii agreed. “Pulling on every piece of string he can find, thinking it will lead to answers.”
“Dumb git.”
“You should stop that, you know. What if it were you? What if you needed help one day and didn’t have no one?”
“So you’re feeling sorry for him now? I thought you didn’t even want to help him in the first place.”
It was Skii’s turn to shrug.
“So you mean you’re not curious at all? Who he is? What happened to you?”
“Of course there’s a part of me that’s curious, Skii. But he’s weak, Felix is. It’s just a matter of time till he falls apart, I can feel it. I just want him to get us what he owes us before he does. Did you see him in there? Mumbling and muttering to himself like he can’t even remember what has been happening. And if I can find out a little more in the meanwhile…” Tom shook his head. Did he even want to find out more? Just being in this house, seeing exactly what he would have missed out on, it was forcing open a side of him that he didn’t quite like.
“You know what I think we should do, Skii?”
“What?”
“I think we should meet him.”
“Who?” she asked to be sure.
“Ezra.”
She knew him well enough not to roll her eyes at him this time. They sat in silence fo
r a while. “You know that’ll be impossible, right?”
“Well, I have a plan. Half a plan at least. It could work. Maybe if we ask this Muriel fellow, he could help.”
“Tom, are you being serious right now?” He was upsetting her. He could tell.
So that he wouldn’t have to look at her, he shifted his gaze towards the house. He was startled to find Felix at the kitchen door. He was out of earshot, but was looking over at them with an expression that Tom couldn’t read.
“There’s nothing here,” Felix called out, a note of defeat in his voice. “I hate to admit it, but maybe you were right, Tom. Maybe we should go see Professor Muriel. It’s a long shot, but he might know something.”
Tom stood up, stubbornly not looking over at Skii. “I think that’s the brightest idea you've had all day.”
FELIX
Felix often wondered whether his mother was two people trapped inside the same body. That was the only way he could explain it really.
There were moments when she was, to his young mind, simply magnificent. She would move through the house in a flurry, ordering the frazzled staff to dust and clean and mop, and she herself would take to the kitchen and make his favourite cake-- chocolate, with lots of strawberries sandwiched in the middle.
It was like she glowed. Everything and everyone else simply paled and withered away. She would grab his arms and sing her special song, the one that only the two of them knew, and she stroked his hair and told him that she loved him more than anyone else. It was in these moments that he wondered why in the Twin Faced God's name someone as wonderful as her would ever agree to marry someone like his father.
But then, the tide would change, and everything that once glowed became dark and dull. She would withdraw from the world, from their household, from him. Her mind would travel far away, to some other life, where her pain was almost palpable. Felix wished he could go with her, when she left like this. But she wouldn't have him then. She wouldn't open up to him or even want to see him when she got this way. And it was not for his lack of trying.