by E. S. Mercer
“Just wait a minute,” I blurted out. “What the hell is going on?” I looked down at the apple in my hand, debating whether to take a bite.
“You may believe this is a ploy against my brother,” Samiel responded with a pause, “but she truly has every right to know who she really is.”
“Don’t you think about what this will do to her?” Michael asked. “Don’t you care what it will do to us?”
“Hello!” I yelled, waving my hands and begging for them to hear me. “Don’t I have a say in this?”
But no one bothered to answer me. They looked right at me, but spoke as if I wasn’t there. “Uh,” I grunted as I turned away. I took the apple and bit into it out of frustration. Maybe, if I did what he asked, I would get an answer. However, It was the most rancid apple I had ever tasted and I spit it out as I coughed uncontrollably.
“Anessa!” Zara yelled as she suddenly appeared. The poor girl had chewed up pieces and spit dripping down her pretty face.
“Oh, oh no,” I cried, dropping the apple, as I looked for a towel to wipe her off.
“It’s ok,” she responded, as she grabbed for her apron. She chuckled a bit. “Where did you go?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, looking at the apple at my feet. “I swear I was somewhere else for a second.” I stood silent for a moment, trying to make sense of it. Trying to figure out why it felt more like a memory than a strange hallucination. Then, I explained to her what I had seen, describing the men I saw with great detail, including the names I had remembered. Michael and Samiel.
Zara felt my forehead, as if to check for a fever while looking over at her father. It was the first and only time I would ever see that man have a look of panic on his face.
“You must not be feeling well,” Zara said, as she started to lead me from the tent. “Maybe the bad apple made you hallucinate.”
“But,” I said, stopping me in my tracks. “He called me Evangeline. I have heard that name before. And the men, they both seemed so familiar.”
“Still sounds like a hallucination to me,” Zara chuckled as she started tugging on me again. “Your name is Anessa... I’m pretty sure of that.”
“Yeah but,” I started to continue.
“Out of my kitchen,” Cappi interjected. “You are ill. I will not have illness in my kitchen.”
“I’m not ill,” I whispered to Zara, following her out. “I’m telling you, that felt like memory. Like a past life.” "Ness," she said, as she turned and looked at me. "The only past life you have is da one you lived as Melody. Outside of that, what you see is your brain playing tricks on you. I assure you, none of dat was real.”
We were interrupted by Constantine who scurried towards us like a man on a mission. He seemed a little more agitated than usual, holding a piece of paper and a scowl. “Ksenia needs you to run an errand off site,” he said, handing Zara the paper. “Take Anessa with you, Ksenia thinks it will be good for her get outside.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, like a giddy little school girl. “Are you sure that is a good idea?” Zara asked, as she pulled him aside. She began to speak so softly that I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. But somehow, I knew she was telling him about my little apple incident; and with the concerned look that slowly formed on his aged face, I knew there was more to it than she had let on.
“Um, distraction from the daily grind will do you guys some good,” he responded as he wrung his calloused hands. He handed Zara a set of car keys and disappeared.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked Zara as we made our way to the old taxi cab. “I know there is something you aren’t telling me.”
“I’m just worried about you,” she said, getting into the driver’s seat. “Hallucinations are signs of greater problems.”
I opened the car door and leaned in to make my point. “But I don’t feel like that is what you are worried about. I could feel there is something more.”
“Nonsense,” she said, turning the key in the ignition, looking straight ahead. “Ready to see da city?”
“I guess,” I said, deciding to leave well enough alone. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with the conversation; I could feel it.
***** Our drive was fairly quiet as I leaned my forehead against the cold glass, watching the scenery pass me by. Through the fog of my boiling discontent, I could see a drastic change in pretty much everything, once we left the District. The filth and deprivation we were used to, quickly turned into a less depressing place to be.
The Poison District where we lived, was essentially the outer ring of the city. Next was the Toiler district, a part of the city that housed the blue collar families, a class of people who broke their backs to ensure the rest of the city had what they needed. They worked in the inner rings of the city as janitors, maintenance men and servants to the upper class. The buildings in this district reflected the hard work of its tenants, worn just enough to show their years of servitude and yet still gave you a feeling of warmth and love.
After about a half hour of driving, we arrived in the Trade District, a part of the city that focused on the all the Cultural Arts. It housed the cities museums, libraries and art galleries. It was also the home of the city’s largest school, Zion University. A place that gave off an old-world presence with a touch underlying mystery. The character of the vintage blocks that made up the buildings demonstrated just how old the campus really was. By the looks of it, they were some of the oldest buildings in the city.
“We have arrived,” Zara announced as she turned down the cobblestone streets of the University.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, looking at the exquisitely constructed University.
“We are to meet with the Dean,” she answered, reading the paper she had received from Constantine. “Something about giving us some new opportunities outside the camp.”
“You mean we are going to go to school here?” I asked, jumping out of the car. “I don’t even remember graduating from high school.”
“No,” she said, sadly reading the paper again. “I have a feeling it’s more of a work thing.” She looked at the signs in front of us in search of the Dean’s office, which happened to be across campus from where we were. She turned, without a word and headed straight for the car.
“No,” I said, blocking the driver’s side door, as if I knew she was wanting to drive. “Let’s walk. It’s been so long since I have been out of the camp and I want to enjoy it!”
So we did, soaking in the scenery of the campus and loving every bit of it. We giggled as we imagined ourselves as one of the co-eds, earning some degree that wasn’t going to do us a bit of good in the real world.
When we finally arrived at the Dean’s office, we were greeted by Dean Avarro, a woman I immediately recognized from the first night I met Ksenia in the Pub.
She knew I recognized her, but never once made mention that she and I had met before. Funny thing was, even Zara, the kitchen wallflower thought she knew who she was.
Ksenia never hid her conquests, knowing her people would never see them again. She was known as a one and done kind of girl and to bring the same girl home twice was such a rare thing.
“Hey, I know you, don’t I?” I blurted. “Um, oh, no, I don’t think so,” she said, fidgeting as she motioned for us to follow her into her office.
“Seriously, I swear I know that woman,” I whispered to Zara. “I’ve seen her with Ksenia.”
“Oh, I know,” she responded. “I have seen her too.” “You are very mistaken,” the Dean barked, overhearing our conversation. “I am a happily married woman,” she said, plopping in her chair. “To a man.”
Zara tried so hard not to laugh as we sat down on the opposite side of her desk. The Dean looked more and more disturbed the more we held back our laughter. I could feel the fear and guilt that welled up inside, quickly spilling onto her petrified face.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the Dean, touching Zara’s arm. “We are acting very childish. I ju
st can’t help but find the humor in all of this. Will you please forgive us. We are children playing a foolish game.”
I wasn’t sure why we had acted this way, maybe out of boredom, maybe we were just immature. But I could tell it was making her mad and I started to feel bad.
“It’s your life,” I continued. “And your secret.” I stood up and reached across the desk, grabbing her hand, “Really, I am so very sorry.” I could feel her fingers curl around my hand as the rest of her melted into a peace that seemed all too new to her. Then in a not so strange twist, it turned almost sexual.
“But she isn’t the only woman I have ever been with,” she said, stroking my hand and pulling herself closer. She was standing, closing in on me and now I was the one feeling a bit uncomfortable.
“Maybe you should reconsider your marriage to a man,” I responded trying to change her focus.
“I like it better this way,” she said, never skipping a beat. “But, I,” I stuttered. I swear it wasn’t my imagination when I tell you that I could hear what she was thinking at this point and it was a bit pornographic. Zara, who watched the situation turn, realized that I wasn’t going to get out of it very easily.
“Um, Dean,” she said, tapping her foot on the floor. The Dean, barely hearing her, turned towards her in a strange daze. “She is with me, Dean Avarro.”
It distracted her enough for me to let go of her. Instantly causing her breathing and behavior to turn back to normal.
“Oh my go…,” Mrs. Avarro started to say.
“It’s ok,” I said, sitting back in my chair. “Should we start discussing what we here for?”
I looked over at Zara who was snickering.
“Shut up,” I whispered, trying to keep a straight face. “It looks as though Ksenia has granted you the option to work outside the camp,” Dean Avarro interrupted. “But I can’t imagine that working here would be worth anything to you.”
Zara sat up in her chair, ecstatic by the news. “I have worked in the kitchen for many years and am willing to do so here if needed.”
Mrs. Avarro looked over at me and my very blank face.
“I know how to do the dishes,” I said, sarcastically. The Dean, perking up as if she had an idea, picked up the phone and sat silently while it rang. I could see her trying not to stare at me as she twiddled a pen between her trembling fingers.
“Arlese, since Mr. Crater is out, we will be hiring a new janitor,” she said, immediately hanging up the phone. I am not sure she even waited for an answer.
“The kitchen sounds like a great place for you,” she said, turning to Zara. “And you will be working with Mr. Crater,” she said, pointing at me. “Doing what?” I asked, looking a little confused. “You have to sweep the floor and clean up after people,” Zara responded. “But it isn’t as bad as it sounds.”
“It sounds horrible,” I said, slapping the arm of my chair, “But if it gets me out of the camp, I am all for it!” We left the Dean’s office with a schedule that started a week from that day and keys to a loft in the attic of the maintenance building. It was a place we would call home during the week, with specific instructions to return home on the weekends. We didn’t care what the terms of our employment were, we were just happy to have the opportunity to be somewhere else, even if only for a while.
“I can’t wait to get back to campus and see our new place,” Zara said, as she drove us back towards the gypsy camp. “I haven’t lived outside the Poison District in a very long time.”
I sat in silence, trying to figure out why all this was happening so suddenly. Ksenia had sounded adamant about me staying in the camp and now I had plans to leave in seven short days.
“I guess I am more curious as to how this all happened,” I exclaimed. “Just a few days ago she was insisting that I didn’t leave.” “Things change drastically with Our Lady and no one ever knows why,” she said, finally pulling into camp. “Don’t question her or her motives, you will only give yourself a headache.”
“No,” I responded. “Something is a little odd about this. I can feel it. Plans changed with no notice and in a bit of a hurry.” We had gotten back just in time for the dinner rush, so Zara knew we had to make our way to the kitchen. She asked that we keep our new employment quiet until she found a way to tell her dad. But the joy of a new future didn’t keep her from skipping ahead and singing a little Romanian tune. She called out for me to follow, which I did, but my excitement had quickly vanished as I started to feel very uncomfortable. The air around me began to make my skin crawl as a frigid electricity pulled at the hair on my arms before coursing through me like ice. Then everything started to slow down, as if time began to stand still in front of me.
I immediately shot a glance towards Ksenia’s loft, where she stood overlooking the camp. She looked terrified, almost shocked to see me back there. I could see her shake her head in slow motion as if to tell me being there was a mistake. “Turn around and leave,” she mouthed. “You need to go, now.”
Then out of the dark, a man came up beside her, meeting my gaze. I don’t know how, but I knew he was the reason I felt the way I did and his presence seemed so very oddly familiar. Next thing I knew, I could feel him rooting around inside my brain. I could feel him, sorting through parts of my psyche that I didn’t know even existed. I closed my eyes so that I could see him clearly, as if he was standing right in front of me, but his face, blurred just added to my confusion.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked him, now finding it more difficult breathe. The longer he stayed, the more I felt crushed by his presence. “Why are you inside my head?”
He wouldn’t answer, just concentrating on something he couldn’t seem to find.
“What is it that you are looking for?” I asked again, still to no avail.
Finally, he spoke as he released me.
“She knows nothing,” he said, disappearing from sight and my head. When he did, time began to adjust itself.
“Did you see any of that?” I asked Zara. “Do you know who that man was?”
“What man?” she asked, looking around. “I don’t see any man.” “That one,” I replied, finally seeing him come from around the corner. Again, time started to slow down, giving me enough time to really inspect his face.
“Oh…Samiel?!” I said under my breath, triggering him to stop in his tracks. He turned and flew towards my face, causing me to get a little scared. “What did you just call me?” he asked, invading my personal space. “Say my name again.”
“Uh, I, I said Samiel,” I stuttered. And it wasn’t because he was too close for comfort. I was literally distracted by the fact that he had the face of a young man and the breath of a geriatric. His smooth, almost luminescent skin and iridescent blue eyes were memorizing, but every time he breathed on me, I could smell a strange, but distinct stench of rot.
“How do you know that name?” he said, again rooting around in my head. This time, I felt my skull crush as he dug deeper than before.
“I don’t know!” I screamed in between the sharp jolts of pain.
“Who are you?” he asked, placing his hands on my face.
“I’m Anessa.” I answered quickly, fighting to turn away from him.
“No,” he replied, “Who are you?”
“I am Anessa,” I said again. He realized he wasn’t getting anywhere, so he pulled out of my head. However, he did it so quickly that I fell to the ground in tears, tormented by an immediate feeling of depression and inadequacy.
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking up at him. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Nothing apparently,” he said, walking away in grave disappointment. “Nothing at all.” As he walked through the large wooden doors of the camp, time caught up with the rest of the people around me. As it did, I saw Ksenia come rushing towards me.
“I think you and Zara should leave the camp sooner than planned,” she said, helping me up. “I think you have overstayed your welcome.”
&n
bsp; “What do you mean?” I asked, jerking my arm away. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” she said, checking me over and brushing me off. “You just need to go now, you aren’t safe here anymore.”
“Why?” I asked the Gypsy Queen. “And who was that man? I know I have seen him before. In my vision.”
“It is just your mind playing tricks,” Zara added. “He can’t be the man you saw. You’ve never met him before.” I grabbed Ksenia’s hand, pulling her towards me. Whatever her mouth was saying did not match what I could feel radiating from her. Her sense of panic and fear injected me with a feeling I could not describe.
“You really should go now,” she said, motioning towards Zara. “Please.” She grabbed ahold of me, nuzzling her face into the nape of my neck, desperately trying not to sob. “I am so sorry I have failed you,” she said, with a mouthful of my hair. “I thought I could keep you safe a little longer. I’ll miss you tremendously.”
I barely understood anything she was saying, but I could feel how sad she was to see me go. “So, I guess this means we don’t come home on the weekends,” I asked, hoping to lighten the mood. My confusion and her fear were weighing too heavily on my heart and I couldn’t stand it.
“It’s best if you stay away,” she said as she stood to face me. “Someday maybe I can explain.” She bent down kissed me gently on the corner of my mouth and bowed ever so slightly, then she turned towards Zara, nodding is if she was to understand everything she was thinking.
“I will take care of her,” she said, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “How can I not take care of my best friend.” As we walked away to collect our things, I tried desperately to figure out what had just happened. Like her, I knew I wasn’t safe at the camp anymore, but I just couldn’t figure out why. I knew that the stranger who climbed inside my head was looking for something and Ksenia was terrified of him. I knew that no matter what she said, he was the man I saw in my vision and that she knew more than she was willing to let on. But why? That was the question burning inside me. What the hell was going on?
There were so many unanswered questions, more than I had when I had arrived. Who I was and where I came from seemed to be topics people wanted to avoid. I may have lost my memory, but I wasn’t stupid. The Gypsy Queen and the creepy but exquisitely gorgeous man knew something and me being there at the camp now seemed more like a coincidence than happenstance.