by Ann Aguirre
When my fingers closed around it, a shiver ran through me. Instantly, strength suffused me, and while this was the equivalent of shooting up, it took the edge off my constant pain.
I shot Dwyer a blissed-out smile. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you. We won’t meet again, I think. Live well, little one.” That might’ve been sarcasm since I had less than three weeks, but maybe the sun god meant it.
“Let’s get you home,” Selena said, standing. “I’m taking your car.”
“Is that your boon?”
“Don’t even try.” She escorted me out, and the driver took us straight back to the studio.
We didn’t make conversation, mostly because I had no idea what to say. Circumstances forced us together, but now I wasn’t ready for her to go. Not ready for another good-bye. Sometimes it felt as if the atoms that built my world had the word farewell etched in fragments, until a pattern of loss emerged. The other Selena—the one in my time—was she angry and alone? I got the feeling she had a yin-yang relationship with Dwyer. I’d never ever considered that I might’ve left someone grieving for eternity when I took the sun god’s heart. This Selena might not hold it against me since it didn’t happen here, but in my actual life, this goddess would never protect or befriend me.
Some of the glow wore off.
We got out of the car in front of our building.
“I hate this,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Beginnings are fun. Middles are sometimes slow, but the finish is always a pain in the ass. What am I supposed to say?”
“The truth.”
“Then … you were the best priestess I’ve had in five hundred years.” She hugged me so hard, my ribs might give way.
“But all we did is watch SYTYCD and kill things.”
“Exactly,” she said. “Plus, you’re also the only priestess I’ve had in twice that long.”
Fighting tears, I choked out a laugh. “And you’re the only moon for me.”
We held on for a few seconds more, and then she streaked into the sky, leaving me as a meteor breaking apart on the ground.
MINE AND MINE ALONE
When I pulled myself together enough, I stumbled upstairs. How could such a small studio seem so empty without her? I collected all the fizzy water bottles and olive jars to stare at them. This is pointless. It took all my strength to haul down the Murphy bed. Now that I lived alone, maybe I wouldn’t bother putting it away anymore. Crawling into it, I rolled into the covers like a cocoon. Possibly I’ll emerge as a butterfly.
Sleep took me.
A familiar voice whispered near my ear, “You smell of the sun and moon, dearling. But you’re mine and mine alone, are you not?”
Disoriented, I jolted awake, my mouth dry as old bones. Though I searched the apartment thoroughly, I found no sign of the Harbinger, inside or beyond the window. Like a junkie, I checked the magazine and found the black feather, a pitiable excuse for evidence that he hadn’t abandoned me. It could’ve come from a random bird, genius. Still, I put it back carefully.
After that, I lost five days in a near comatose haze. My injuries couldn’t heal properly, but it didn’t matter anymore. I wandered the studio intermittently, ate and drank enough to stay alive, and slept more than ever before. Every now and then, I answered texts so my friends didn’t panic. Fortunately, they were busy with finals and didn’t focus too much on me.
Devon proved the exception, but he just wanted to know about the tip. Did U take care of business? What happened w/ the old lady?
Yeah, I sent back. All good now. Won’t blow back on any of U. Thx.
He seemed satisfied without further details, so I left it there and dozed more. When I finally came out of the soporific state, my body felt stronger than it had in months, and my mind had a sharpness and clarity that had been lacking for a while. Many terminal patients experienced a surge of revitalization known as “the last hurrah” right before the end.
That’s where I am.
Tucking the two tokens in my pocket bolstered me further. On a whim, I got on the anime forum, probably for the last time, and found GreenKnight still chatting with NamiNerd, who had exciting news. I did it, you guys. It took nonstop persuasive persistence, but my parents agreed to the deal. I only have one more year, and then I can change schools. They promised.
I smiled and touched the screen. Way to go, young me.
Then I typed a response: That’s fantastic. Congratulations!
GreenKnight had beaten me to it, though. What’d I tell you? Before, I thought it was futile too. But if you don’t even try, you can’t complain if your life doesn’t change.
The thread continued for a while with NamiNerd extolling the virtues of the science program at the magnet school she’d selected. I noticed she was careful not to let it slip that she was still in junior high. With a surge of nostalgia, I responded to a few more threads, and then I shut down the laptop. I slipped it into my backpack and headed out. The bus driver seemed pleased to see me, at least.
“It’s been a while,” she said.
I smiled as I went by and took the seat I’d occupied with Kian while we shared headphones. Touching the empty space beside me, I let the tears fall. With nobody who knew me nearby, I had no reason to pretend. Impulse impelled me to return to my old neighborhood, where they were decorating for some kind of street festival. Luisa must’ve taken a rare day off work because she was setting up a booth outside the bodega.
“Nine,” she called, genuinely pleased to see me.
Her face lit up in a smile, and she hurried toward me to give me a powerful hug. So different from my mom. I could count on both hands the number of times she’d held me like this. But I missed her. When she died, we were just starting over, tentatively building a different relationship. I wished I had the time to go to Boston to see her face, but it probably wouldn’t be smart to get that close to young Edie, even if I did.
“You’ve been busy with school?” Luisa guessed.
“It’s done now. Can I help you?”
“If you don’t mind. José is minding the store, and I have a stack of things just inside the door that I need brought out.”
“I’m on it.”
The bell tinkled when I stepped in, and José waved from behind the counter. If he noticed how wan I looked, he was polite enough not to comment. “You can’t stay away, huh? How are things uptown?” That was his favorite question, as if the city might change wildly between my visits.
But I knew what he was really asking and fought the urge to answer, Terrible. I’m there all alone and I’m dying.
“Okay. I brought you a present.”
When I fished out the laptop, his eyes widened. “Are you kidding? This is probably worth five hundred bucks. It looks new.”
I won’t need it where I’m going. In truth, terror dogs nipped constantly at my heels. I had no idea if there was an afterlife waiting for me. What happens to people who perish of time sickness? With some effort, I regulated my breathing and didn’t panic.
“My dad bought me a better one,” I said. “Things have turned around for us. That’s part of why I’m here … to let you know we’re moving. I promised to stop by, before.”
“When?” José asked.
“Next week.”
He still hadn’t accepted the laptop. If he didn’t, it would trouble me … because I literally had nothing else to offer. Kindness like his should be rewarded somehow, and my resources were limited. But his eyes admired it.
Finally, he said, “Are you sure? Your old man’s okay with this?”
“Definitely. He ate the food you sent too. Before he got this new job, things were pretty tough. Without you guys…”
His cheeks colored. “We all just do what we can.”
“You and Luisa, more than most. Speaking of which, she’s waiting for this stuff.” I angled my head at the pile of boxes by the door.
“Better get moving before she comes looking for you,” he
teased.
I left the laptop on the counter and went to work. Three trips later, I’d delivered all the supplies so Luisa could continue prepping the booth. She included me so gradually that I hardly noticed I’d been deputized as her assistant. Some of the stalls were just folding tables with slow cookers sitting on them, but the street smelled amazing with foods from twenty different countries. Since everything tasted the same to me, I contented myself with deep breathing.
“What’s this all about?” I asked Luisa.
“It’s a tradition. Since we’re so multicultural up in here, it started as a pride fair, kind of, but we’re starting to get some recognition. They did an article in the paper last year, and I hear some food bloggers are coming incognito this time.” She peered up and down the street as if she could figure out who it might be.
Under other circumstances, this would be amazing. Hell is a food fair when you can’t appreciate the culinary wonders. As the day wore on, Luisa got busier, so I helped her by plating up the tamales. She had ten plastic bins full of them in various flavors: chicken in green sauce, pork in red sauce, mushroom, cheese and peppers, bean and cheese, and the list went on, types I’d never heard of or tried. We also had beans and rice; I sold them by the scoop. Down the street, there were gyros, kebabs, falafel, pizza, puff pastries full of meat and potatoes, yogurt drinks, and cups of mixed rice. A woman with a wok above a grill was selling street noodles, while her husband made fish cakes on a stick.
“Whew,” she said, downing some water and swiping her forehead. “This is a lot busier than last year. We’ve actually got some out-of-towners.”
Scanning the street, I estimated there were a couple hundred people roaming around, and the police were having a field day with the lack of parking. “I’d call this a resounding success.”
Another wave of people came, so I got back to work. Mindless, repetitive, so I was startled when a familiar voice said, “I didn’t know you work here.”
Glancing up, I recognized Jake. Tanya wasn’t around, though. Instead, he was hanging out with Devon, who waved. “Me either.”
“Introduce your friends.” Luisa nudged me.
Relief shaded her smile, probably because this was the first remotely normal behavior she’d observed. As a social worker, she must’ve wondered if I was a runaway. I silently thanked her for not digging too much into my fustercluck of a life. Smiling, I did as she requested.
“This is Jake and Devon.”
“Pleased to meet you.” But when they tried to pay, she waved off the bills.
Devon laughed. “If you knew how loaded this guy is, you’d double your prices.”
Luisa smiled, but she didn’t relent. “It’s fine. I can afford to feed Nine’s friends. If you want to take a break, you can eat with them.”
Before I could demur, she fixed a plate for me too. After some searching, we found a spot to eat on the steps of a nearby apartment building. With three of us, it was a bit of a squeeze. Good thing Devon and me are small. The guys practically inhaled theirs, while I struggled to finish one. They both eyed my remaining food with hungry eyes, so I split it between them.
“This is heaven.” Devon gazed worshipfully at his plate.
Jake licked his fingers. “Thanks for bringing me. It’s my first time here.”
“Mine too,” I admitted.
And the last.
“So how long have you worked for José and Luisa?” Devon asked.
“I’m just helping out today. How did your exams go?” Time to change the subject.
Jake shrugged. “Not bad. My father doesn’t care about grades anyway. ‘Money is where it’s at, son. You can buy better marks if you’re rich enough.’”
“He sounds like a fun guy.” Devon shook his head and carried his plate over to the trash can on the corner.
I followed suit. “Luisa is probably swamped again. I should get back.”
Jake stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Hold up. You’re coming to Kian’s surprise party, right?”
“Nobody invited me.” I twinged hard over that. Funny how fast you got deleted from plans when you weren’t part of the daily social circle anymore.
“Relax. I would’ve,” Devon said, nudging Jake. “We’re still figuring out the logistics. He wants to host, but everyone’s nervous for obvious reasons.”
“Come on, dude. How can I prove myself if people won’t cut me some slack? I’m not inviting any of the assholes who were there before, I promise. It’ll just be our core group.”
“Welcome to my world,” Devon muttered, turning to me. “What do you think?”
Pretending to study Jake, I kept quiet until he squirmed. “Come on, Nine.”
“It’ll be fine,” I predicted.
Since Wedderburn ruined his last party, this should be awesome. Plus, since he had the biggest house, it made sense to let him host, if he wanted to. When I first arrived, I never could’ve predicted that things would work out like this. Some of the weight anchoring me trickled away. Soon I’d just float into the stratosphere, all ties untethered.
“Then maybe we’ll give him a shot. I’ll text you,” Devon promised.
With a wave, I headed back to Luisa’s booth. Sure enough, she had a line again, and I hurried to help her catch up. I spent the rest of the day assisting, so it was close to ten by the time we finished cleaning. Her cash box bulged with bills, and she was glowing when José came out to check on us.
She beamed at him too. “Fantastic, right? We can probably take that vacation we were talking about.”
He smiled at me. “She should open her own restaurant, tell her.”
“Please.” She acted like this was an old argument. “My government job is steady, and we don’t have to worry about start-up failures or health care.”
When they turned to me, I struggled to find words other than good-bye. “Thanks for everything. I won’t be around after this, so take care, okay?”
They exchanged a look and I could see José promising to explain after I left. That silent communication reminded me of my parents. Aching, I rubbed my chest.
“You too,” Luisa said.
They enfolded me in a two-sided hug, and for a long moment, I leaned, soaking it in. I noticed they didn’t offer to pay me this time, and it leavened my heart. Maybe they think of me as family. I waved and headed out. On the bus ride home, I stared at my flickering face reflected in the window. It came and went according to the shift of internal and external light, but it felt like a sinister, predictive version of a child’s game with flower petals.
Now you’re here. Now you’re not.
That last week, I used my library card hard. Not only did I read the two novels I’d checked out before, but I paid the late fine and took out more. I worked on the list of 100 Books You Must Read Before You Die, mostly because I wouldn’t have a chance later. In the middle of number twenty-eight, I got a text from Devon.
Friday night, Jake’s place. If U need a ride, meet at usual place, 7pm for Carmen car pool.
I sent back, See U then.
Three days before my personal D-day, Selena’s token dissolved in my hands. I guessed I’d drained it and let the silver dust trickle through my fingers into the trash. So far, Dwyer’s coin was holding out, but it didn’t warm my palm as much as it used to. That meant the return of my old friend pain. Surprise surges doubled me over at random moments, cramping my hands into claws, and my skin was simply … gone, in more than one spot, not showing muscle or meat beneath but a freaky nothing inside.
I don’t have long.
Once again, fiction saved me, or I might’ve cried myself to death.
* * *
The day of Kian’s surprise party, I cleaned the studio and washed my clothes. I folded them neatly and stowed them in a small trash bag. Wow, I really don’t have much. With a tremulous sigh, I checked the move-out list to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. Then I realized the absurdity of it. Jake’s building manager would have a hard time finding me or t
he Harbinger to charge us extra. Still, I pulled all linens and bedcovers and set them on the washer, as requested. Then, for the last time, I did my makeup so I didn’t alarm my friends and dropped the cosmetics into the bin afterward.
“I can’t believe this is how my story ends,” I whispered.
Yet, while fear gnawed at me like hungry rats, on some level, I was also ready for it to be over. Exhaustion hung over me like a cloudy day that never ended in rain. It felt symbolic as I walked the six blocks to the Goodwill donation box. Without hesitation, I pushed everything I owned into the chute. Now I have only what I’m standing in, just like when I arrived. That felt right. In my pocket, I had two fake IDs, a cell phone, and the remainder of the cash the Harbinger had left.
With two hours to kill, I walked aimlessly. Somehow I ended up on the bus, riding to the mall where the Harbinger and I had busked before the fountain. The plaza looked much different during the day, especially beneath the dazzling sunshine. Another musician had taken the Harbinger’s spot, but he hadn’t attracted much attention. He was young, probably my age or younger, and scruffy as hell. The song he strummed on his battered acoustic guitar seemed to be original, or at least, I hadn’t heard it before. I listened until the end and then dropped five bucks in the case.
“Thanks,” he said.
I repeated José’s words then. “We just do what we can.”
And sometimes that had to be enough. That’s why the Harbinger left. Something like peace flowed through me, blocking the intermittent pain. In that moment, I stopped waiting for him to return. My heart ached, a welcome change from physical pain. Everything hurt except the creepy rents in my flesh. At the convenience store across the way, I bought a sandwich and offered half to the musician. Since he’d watched me take it out of the package, he took it and gobbled it down. I chucked the filling of mine and went to a nearby bench to crumble up the bread for the birds.
Soon I had a small avian army at my feet: fat-breasted gray pigeons with glimmers of blue and green, tiny brown wrens, one white dove, and a huge crow with greedy, beady eyes. I focused on him for obvious reasons, pretending he represented someone else. Pinching a huge crumb to lure him closer, I tossed it, and he strutted to claim it with pure bird swag.