The Black Coats

by Colleen Oakes

  Thea started laughing, but she stopped when she saw an old man peek through a window. He was heavyset, with greasy white hair that flew in all directions. Above his askew collar a cragged face reflected a long and troubled life. Still, his cloudy eyes lit up when he saw Drew and Thea and his trembling hands reached for the lock.

  His raspy voice sounded painful as it passed through his cracked lips. “Hello! Come in! Drew, you brought a girl!”

  “Yes, Harry. I brought a girl. Try not to be so shocked.”

  Harry looked Thea up and down as Thea braced herself for the worst. More common than it should have been, the older generation down here sometimes had a terrible reaction to mixed-race couples. Remnants of racism tended to float through supposedly liberal Austin like dust in the air of an empty house.

  Harry paused, his eyes tracing Thea’s features before his face exploded into an ecstatic grin. “And she’s a lovely one! Together, you will make beautiful babies!”

  Drew winced. “Oh my God, Harry, stop.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I had to say it. Come on in.”

  Thea ducked under Drew’s arm and into the tight corners of the cluttered, musty shop. The lighting was dim, and she had to squint to see the corners of the room.

  “Well, I’ll let Drew give you the tour. God knows he spends enough time here, sadly waiting for his father to come home from saving the world, the poor kid.”

  Drew rolled his eyes. “Okay, that’s enough of that conversation. Maybe next we can talk about my awkward moments during puberty.” He turned back to Thea. “Now, shall we?”

  Thea grinned. “Please.” She was dying to see what was in here.

  Drew lowered his voice and leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. “Welcome to the weirdest shit you’ve ever seen.”

  The museum itself was just two floors, not much larger than one of Thea’s classrooms; still, there were oddities crammed into every available space. Thea and Drew’s casual banter fell away as they both succumbed to piqued curiosity. Hanging skeletons, their jaws hinged open, seemed to laugh at the pair as they slowly made their way through the peculiarium. There were the skulls of nomads and balls of bright wax carved to look like miniature brains, as well as a book covered in skin that Thea knew she would see in her nightmares. Not everything was macabre; in one corner alone there were old bottles filled with antique potions promising remedies for “the lady’s monthly madness,” a collection of large insects forever preserved in glass jars filled with resin, and a torturous-looking device used for childbirth in the 1830s. Each shelf promised weird and fascinating discoveries, and Thea lost herself in the strange items, her reflection distorted in a large glass pane that protected a two-headed taxidermic calf. The ceiling was covered with hanging black butterflies, each one pinned so that they looked menacingly down upon the guests.

  “How have I never heard about this place?” Thea wondered aloud, watching the butterflies spin lazily in the air-conditioning.

  Drew shrugged as he ran his fingers over a large banana sculpture with an alien erupting out of the center. “It’s not really a place they tell tourists to visit. The neighborhood has gone to hell, but Harry has stayed. When he goes, all the stuff will go, too.” His face fell, and he ran his foot over the floor. “Although, I’m personally hoping that I get the lobotomy set with matching skull.”

  She looked over and drank him in: hands shoved deep in his pockets, green eyes lingering on the aluminum spaceship that dangled overhead. She felt propelled toward him, as if he had a gravitational pull all his own. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted to lose herself in this funny ray of sunshine who also smelled really good.

  “Thea, wait until you see—” He stopped talking when he felt her hands on his face and gently turned it to hers. Mopey hall-ghost Thea Soloman would have never done this before, not even before Natalie. But something about being in the Black Coats was making her bolder. Why shouldn’t I kiss him when I want to? Why wait for him when this is what I want?

  He paused for a moment before clenching his hands around her waist. He bent down, pressing his mouth hungrily over hers. Light exploded in her vision. His lips were soft, and his mouth tasted of mint. His thumbs softly caressed her cheekbones, his tongue teasing across her bottom lip. Everything faded from her recent memory: the Black Coats, Natalie, her parents, this weird museum. There was only Drew and the way his strong body pressed against hers, the way his hair was falling over her forehead.

  His kiss was gentle but wanting, and she could tell he was losing himself in the same way she was. His breath was warm as it passed over her mouth. Thea let her hands crawl up the back of his shirt, the cotton fabric starched and rigid. Drew pulled back before diving in to kiss her again, more passionately this time, this one unafraid. She lost track of time. There was only his mouth on hers, happiness glowing out from every pore. She hadn’t felt this way in so long, if ever. Finally, he pulled back with a gasp. Thea looked up at him and started laughing. His glasses were fogged up. Drew let out a long breath, his hands tangling up in her hair, his lips moving from her mouth to her cheek to her neck. He moaned. “Wow. Okay. That was amazing.”

  He pulled her into a hug and Thea buried herself in the crook of his hard shoulder, suddenly embarrassed at her boldness. “Sorry. I should have . . .” I should have let you kiss me first.

  “No. Somehow that was just perfect.” He grinned. “Also, we had an audience.” Thea turned. On the shelf in front of her, a terrifying doll peered out at them from a wooden bed.

  “Oh. That’s kind of awkward.” Thea grimaced.

  Drew reached out with a laugh and spun the clown around to face the other way. “We probably made his day.” Slowly, Drew pushed her hair back from her face, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Well, you made mine,” said a strange voice from a few shelves away.

  “Go away, Harry,” Drew said, not moving an inch.

  The old man peeked up from behind the shelf before shuffling back to his desk. “It’s not often we have people swapping spit in here. Just sayin’. . . .”

  Thea closed her eyes. “Annnd there goes the moment.”

  Drew laughed. “Well, there’s still the entire second level of this place.” His eyes widened. “We could try it again in front of the stuffed otter upstairs. He’s wearing a fedora and holding a machete.”

  “Take me there immediately,” laughed Thea. Holding hands, they headed upstairs, where more oddities awaited them, as well as a few more kisses, each one longer than the last.

  Twelve

  The rest of the month passed in a blur. Turning five separate girls into one functioning Team Banner made the days bleed together into an insane mix of running, martial arts, and lectures.

  Thankfully, it was a Friday, and they were almost done at Mademoiselle Corday.

  Nixon poked her head into the classroom. “Team Banner, meet me in the Haunt. Ten minutes.”

  The group let out a loud groan. The Haunt meant more physical training, and Thea already felt like her muscles were wiggly noodles.

  Nixon shot them a look that could freeze ice. “Anyone want to complain?”

  “No, ma’am,” Team Banner echoed back. Mirabelle blew a strand of flaxen hair out of her eyes. “I already sparred with Nixon for an hour today.”

  “Did you win?” snapped Casey sarcastically from her normal perch atop a desk.

  “Almost,” Mirabelle replied. “But if I have to do it again, I’m just going to run through the greenhouse glass screaming.”

  Louise curled her arm underneath Mirabelle’s. “I’ll take her for you.”

  Mirabelle rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the help. I give you three seconds before she has your face in the mat.”

  “Five seconds, but this time I won’t cry,” said Louise.

  Mirabelle grinned. “Deal.” They shook on it as Team Banner began making their way down the long hallways.

  Thea watched them with a smile as she hung back, noting the way Bea casually
laced her arm through Louise’s, the way Casey yanked on Mirabelle’s ponytail when she wasn’t looking. The tethers of their individuality were fraying, and a quilt of differing abilities was finally coming together. Team Banner was getting there, one day at a time. There is a strange magic to this particular group, thought Thea. We are healing ourselves.

  Thea was the last one through the doors of the Haunt, the heavy wood slamming shut behind her. The lights were off, an oddity, and Team Banner froze, immediately sure that something was not right in the swallowing darkness.

  “Is Nixon going to jump us?” Bea’s words faded out. Night fell early this time of year, and through the wavy glass of the greenhouse, Thea could make out the bright light of the moon. Dozens of figures melted out of the shadows and made their way toward the girls. Their hands unfolded and lit candles peeked out of the darkness. Thea saw the illuminated figures of young and old women, each clad in a black coat. Team Banner instinctively clustered together. Julie Westing watched them silently, her wolfish face lit by a golden glow.

  “I knew it!” hissed Mirabelle, with a tremble of fear in her normally bold voice. “They are going to sacrifice us for our virgin blood.”

  “Tell the rest of the world we’ll miss them,” Casey whispered drily.

  Nixon stepped into the moonlight, her black coat turned up at the collar and a dripping beeswax candle in her hand. “Team Banner, step forward.”

  The girls approached her cautiously, Thea first, and the rest of them following behind her. Nixon held out her hand, bright red lips flickering like wet blood in the candlelight. Their president raised her voice. “Team Banner, over the last few weeks, I believe, has proven themselves worthy of calling themselves Black Coats. They are admirable in their devotion, fierce in their individual training, and noble in their intent to serve the Black Coats with utter loyalty.” An amused cough echoed out from the corner. Nixon’s glance flitted to where Kennedy and Team Emperor watched silently from the wings, their arms folded skeptically over their chests. Nixon’s mouth twisted, but her voice remained steady. “I’ll ask you one time. Are you ladies ready to join the Black Coats?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they replied in unison.

  “Good. There is, however, one thing you must do before you are initiated fully into this society.” Thea’s pulse raced as Nixon stepped toward them, her voice echoing across the dark expanse of the Haunt. “What if I told you that one of the members of Team Banner was put on to your team as a test? That she was a plant. You may know her as the one who isn’t essential to your group.”

  Thea’s mouth fell open. “What?”

  Nixon was in front of her now. “Quickly now, Team Banner. Who is it? All your lessons have been leading up to this, all those psychology lessons, all those criminology studies. I have laid out every possible way to find the wolf in sheep’s clothing among you. Who is your weakest team member?” Only her sharpest features were lit in the wavering flame.

  Mirabelle stepped forward, pointing her finger at Casey. “It’s her. It has to be. How much do we need a driver?”

  Casey shot daggers at Mirabelle. “I’m not just a driver. I’m a hacker! And I was going to say you. What do you really add to the team? Thea is pretty enough to be ‘the face,’ and you . . .”

  Louise frowned. “I was actually going to say that maybe Thea is the most useless. What does fast do for us?” She gave Thea a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Thea. I like you a lot.”

  Thea let their voices circle around her, her jumbled thoughts blocking out the accusations. Feelings were being hurt. Bea was almost in tears. They want to tear us apart. Thea stepped out of their circle, waving her hands.

  “No,” she declared loudly. “No. Stop! We’ve been through so much together. It’s not about whose gift is the most useful or the most coveted. It’s about how we work together. Each gift in itself isn’t enough.”

  “I agree,” whispered Bea. What had Nixon been telling them? Over and over again? To trust their team. All their work had built to this moment, and it was close to shattering. Unless, of course, it had been building to the moment where they would sniff out the traitor. Thea’s hands clenched once, and then she turned back to her girls.

  “No. They wouldn’t put us through all that just to pull one of us and make us start again.”

  Louise straightened her spine. “I agree with Thea.”

  Mirabelle leaned forward, her pitch rising. “I’m not going to lose out on being a part of the Black Coats because we can’t figure out who the traitor is among us.”

  “Maybe it’s you,” objected Casey. “Maybe that’s why.”

  “Stop!” Thea’s voice was louder than she meant it to be, but all the girls fell silent. Thea reached out her hand, and the girls slowly, one by one, reached out as well until they embraced one another. “We are bonded by the grief we carry, so let’s carry it together or not at all.”

  Finally, Mirabelle stepped forward and joined their circle. “Fine,” she sighed. “But know that I hate you all so much right now.”

  Team Banner turned back to Nixon and Julie. The latter watched Thea with fascination, her pale eyes sparking like flint in the candlelight. Thea spoke for the team: “Each of us makes up Team Banner. There is no weakness here, only strength.”

  Nixon closed her eyes for a moment, and Thea was sure that she had made the wrong choice. But then she opened them with a huge smile. “Congrats, Team Banner! Tonight you passed the most important test, more important than all your training. You have shown a willingness to sacrifice your own desires for the good of the team. Some teams here have not been so lucky the first time around.” Her eyes darted to where Team Emperor simmered in the darkness.

  Julie Westing stepped forward, nodded once, and retreated back into the folds of the Black Coats. “Nixon, you may proceed.”

  Thea blinked, still in shock, but felt a smile tugging at her mouth.

  Their president stepped forward after handing her candle to a Black Coat alumna. “Mirabelle, step forward to receive your coat.” Mirabelle was followed by Casey, Louise, and Bea. Thea watched them with her hands pressed up against her lips. She took a deep breath as Bea walked back into the crowd. “And finally, Thea Soloman.” She stepped toward Nixon, struggling to control her emotions as Nixon pulled the coat off the rack that had appeared behind her. “Turn around.”

  Thea obeyed, and Nixon slid the coat onto her shoulders. As soon as she felt the weight of it, she knew that this coat had been made just for her, and it was at once the most precious thing she had ever owned. It was knee-length, with black wool buckles on each wrist. The coat was lined from collar to pocket with large black buttons on both sides. At her hips, the coat flared wide so that leg movement would be uninhibited. So I can run. The fabric was smooth but strong under her fingers. The collar hit her just under the chin, reminding her of an old officer’s coat.

  Nixon gently ran her hands over Thea’s shoulders before turning her back around to face her. “Thea, you have also been named the leader of Team Banner.” She turned around to face her team, who gleefully nodded their consent, and Thea felt her pride swell. This moment was so much bigger than she was: all these women, all these candles, Team Banner, Sahil’s proud gaze resting on her from his place in the corner. She trembled slightly as she took Nixon’s outstretched hand. The president jerked her close. “Go carefully into changing waters,” she hissed. Then she let go of Thea and raised her arms above her head. “Fellow Black Coats, I give you Team Banner!”

  The Haunt erupted into wild cheers, a wave of sound rushing over the space. The candles went out in a collective breath, and when the lights came on, Thea saw hundreds of women, all wearing their black coats. Upbeat music filled the previously silent room, and soon the crowd was swaying to the music, collectively moved by its hypnotic pull. Red wine was uncorked, and the atmosphere turned from a scene of solemnity to one of celebration as older alumni clustered around Team Banner, offering congratulations and telling stories of their
glory days in the Black Coats.

  Thea sipped slowly from the glass in her hand, wincing at the dry, plummy taste of the wine as she made her way through the endless rounds of small talk. Her heart had finally calmed down when she had the strange feeling of being watched, like a cool fingertip trailing up her spine. Slowly, she raised her eyes to the narrow balcony that overlooked the Haunt, and there, an older woman was indeed watching her silently. She was seated in a wheelchair and had a pink silk scarf wrapped around her head, her own black coat so worn that it had dimmed to a shade of light gray. When Thea’s eyes met hers, the woman delicately raised her hand in greeting. Her eyes were tired, the bruises beneath them pulling at hollowed cheeks, and they bored through Thea as congratulations fell around her like rain.

  Thea inhaled sharply when she realized who it was: Robin Peterson, the other luminary and creator of the Black Coats. The woman weakly gestured for Thea to join her, and so with a deep breath she made her way up, shyly tucking her hair back behind her ears. When she reached the top of the staircase, she stood for a moment before bowing awkwardly in front of Robin, unsure of what to do with her body.

  “You don’t need to bow, child.” Robin Peterson smiled kindly at her, her calm presence the opposite of the anger that had rolled off Julie in waves. “We’re not gods. In fact, I’d say we are almost the opposite.” She extended her hand. “I’m glad to finally meet you, Thea Soloman. I’m Robin.” Thea gently took her hand in her own, Robin’s skin as thin and soft as rice paper. “Thea, it brought me joy to see Team Banner confirmed today. Nixon was a protégé of mine, and to see her leading her own group of young ladies gives me hope for the future of our changing organization—” Midsentence she dissolved into a violent cough and raised a handkerchief to her mouth. She inhaled sharply, and the resulting exhale sent it tumbling onto the floor. “Damn!” Her eyes filled with tears as she struggled to pick it up.

  Thea quickly knelt and scooped it up, noting a spot of blood on the yellow embroidered cloth before she handed it back.