Burden of the Soul

9.

I kept to myself the remainder of the day forcing my eyes open during each lecture to avoid another embarrassing moment, and mall walking down the halls in between classes to keep myself from being trapped in another unwanted party think tank. By the last bell my mind was completely separated from the incidents of the day and was anxious to just get home to lock myself in.

As I walked out onto the sidewalk of 95 Street, I could see Alli hovering with Trischa and the Bronzed Brigade. As I walked they collectively turned to me and then turned back. It was a little bit scary how they all moved in unison when together, as if a brain held in a mason jar somewhere was responsible for their every move.

Alli nodded and then left the huddle and joined me.

“So it’s settled. Saturday night.”

“Please don’t, Alli.”

“It’s not up to me, and it’s beyond you at this point. Look at it this way. It’s an excuse to have a party more than it’s about you. So just go with it.”

We walked through the park back out onto Central Park West, taking our normal route through the side streets to our houses, just a few blocks apart. She gabbed about her day and every now and then came back to Cole as if her conversation orbited around him—what he was wearing, the way his tousled hair fell just over his eyes and would bounce each time he blinked, or the possibility of him being at the party.

As we walked, my mind kept going back to the dream trying to make sense of the fear and anxiety that had sprang up in me at that moment Devin’s face was inches from mine.

His eyes, their intensity and chill, made me shiver. The look of pleading in his face as he said, “It’s time.” It had all been so vivid. I could feel every moment as if my senses were on fire, taking it all in.

It hadn’t been like other dreams, the ones that literally evaporate and evade memory as you wake up and realize you had been asleep. The dreams that escape even though you struggle to pull out small details to piece together like a puzzle. This still played in my mind with every sharp detail. The tree off in the distance, Devin coming closer, my heart beating and pushing at my chest in sync with his. The sound that echoed through the hills as the crack surged through his chest.

“Who’s that?” Allison had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk all of a sudden and looked straight ahead. I followed her line of sight straight to the stoop in front of our brownstone. Backlit by the sun, I could make out the profile of a familiar figure, with shoulder length hair hanging in a downward diagonal, serving as a curtain hiding her face. She sat on the steps with her elbows resting on her knees, and her feet tapping out a rhythm with her toes.

“Aunt Grace?” The excitement I felt was evident in my voice as I took off at a jog toward the doorway. She turned and immediately beamed a smile at me, launching off the stoop and turning into the sidewalk. At full speed I ran and then collided with her, but her arms welcomed the attack and closed in around me.

“Good GOD you’ve gotten huge. And you’ve got boobs now too! Like, real ones.” She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me back gently to eye me up and down as she sarcastically gave her criticisms. “Who exactly gave you permission to grow those?”

I pulled back a bit laughing at her choice in observations. I was nearly at eye level with her.

“Shit, you’re going to be taller than me too,” she said.

I couldn’t help but smile at her slightly acidic personality and the glimmer of my Mom’s face that shined in hers when she smiled. It was true. I had gotten taller since she had last seen me, and I knew even without Dad’s avoidance that my face was filling out and looking more and more like Mom.

She pulled me in for another hug and tucked her lips near my ear before whispering, “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

The sentiment made my heart drop a bit and the excitement drained out of me through my legs into the pavement. “Please don’t start with that.”

With her hand under my chin she raised my head up to meet her eyes, surveying the damage behind my words. Hanging from her wrist was the sparkling skeleton key Mom had once worn. It swayed back and forth between us like an old clock.

The silence was heavy and I knew she was piecing together the pain behind my eyes. I needed to draw her attention away from me, to wiggle myself out of the knowing spotlight she cast.

“Nice hair, Aunt Grace.”

“You like it?” That was all it took to pop her out of taking inventory of my unspoken insecurities. She looked over my shoulder and took in the sight of Alli approaching from behind, not wanting to interrupt the obvious reunion, but unable to stifle her own curiosity.

“Hi, I’m Allison.”

“Okay.”

Standard introductions and greetings were beyond Aunt Grace’s shock and awe approach to life, but I could see the uneasy effect it had on Alli as she shifted her weight from foot to foot and mumbled something under her breath.

“Alli, don’t mind her. My Aunt Grace has never been one for social decency.” I couldn’t help but throw a smirk in her direction playing the role of stern parent.

“Ahhh,” she said. “I see your father has gotten to you. And where is good ‘ol Chris?”

“At work. It’s the middle of the afternoon. Where else would a responsible adult be at this time of day?”

“Happy hour. And don’t think your jabs can hurt me. I swell with pride every time you correctly use sarcasm. It’s like watching you wipe yourself for the first time. ”

I raised an eyebrow, and she picked up on the question.

“Nah, I wasn’t there for that. But I was there the first time you made a ‘That’s what she said’ joke. It was a thing of beauty.”

Trying to be polite, Alli gave an awkward laugh but couldn’t make sense of the anti-adult specimen that was my aunt.

Grace lifted up her wrist and looked at her watch, a massive contraption surrounded by buttons and features usually intended for athletes or outdoorsmen.

“Oh wow, it is the middle of the afternoon. What time zone am I in?”

“What are you doing with that thing? Those watches are for people who do triathlons or the Iron Man.”

“Do you like it?” Her face beamed with pride over her flashy accessory. “It may just inspire me to do a triathlon. It’s water proof and everything.”

I turned to see Allison still shifting her weight and glancing down the street awkwardly. “Alli, do you want to come in for a bit?”

It was her turn to look Aunt Grace up and down, taking in her tattered jeans, thin t-shirt, colorful scarf that didn’t seem to match the rest of her outfit, the barcode tattoo and noise piercing.

“I don’t think so,” she scoffed. “I need to be getting home. You call me if you hear anything about Saturday, and I’ll call you if I do. If Dave calls please remember to be nice to him.” She passed us quickly and turned to escape down the street.

“Was it something I said?” Aunt Grace broke out in a low chuckle, swung her arm around my shoulder and turned me toward the front door. “So… Algebra’s back?”

I took my keys out of my backpack and opened the front door, punching in the alarm code to keep the cavalry from being called in.

“Geez, your dad means business. I’m surprised we didn’t have to cross a moat to get in.”

But we both knew he had more than enough reason to be overprotective, although when he had the extensive alarm system installed I refrained from pointing out the last major intruder into our home didn’t seem to be something an alarm could keep out. But if it made him feel better, I could let that detail go.

At first he didn’t allow me to be home alone after school while he was at work. I was horrified to have a glorified babysitter at sixteen. He finally caved and allowed me to spend the time alone after a conversation with Aunt Grace a few months after the move. I owed her my freedom in that respect.

Even still, there was a strict list of rules. No opening the door to strangers, regular check-in phone calls and no leaving without first clearing the plans with him, even if I was only going to run to the bodega at the end of the street.

At first Dad didn’t allow Aunt Grace around, although I couldn’t tell if that was for my benefit or because he didn’t want to see the similarity in her face. She shared Mom’s almond-shaped eyes and her facetious grin.

I had to admit it was painful to see at first, a reminder of what was missing from our day-to-day life. But I got over it eventually, although the ice pack around Dad’s heart never melted.

I had wondered over the past week if Aunt Grace would follow the tradition and make an appearance on my birthday since the day was now less my birthday and more an anniversary of our family’s most horrific tragedy—a day that would twist the dagger still implanted in our hearts.

But as I stood there in the foyer looking at her, I couldn’t help but be happy she had come. It was as if her presence gave warmth to the house that had been absent all along. Or maybe it was simply the fact I would have someone to talk to for the next few days, hopefully. And if I was being honest, it was nice to see her resemblance to Mom. Subtle enough that it didn’t cut deep, but present enough that it felt familiar.

I took my cell phone out of my bag and plopped it next to the stairs, which sent an echo up through the foyer stretching all the way to the third floor. It was far more space than two people needed, but I was thankful for the privacy it gave the both of us in a city so tightly packed.

I dialed Dad’s cell number as I walked to the kitchen, Aunt Grace on my heels. “Are you hungry? Do you want anything?”

“Scotch on the rocks?” I turned and eyed her down as the phone was ringing in my ear. “Fine,” she exhaled with an overdramatic wave of her hand. “A soda.”

“Clara?”

“Hey, Dad. I’m home.”

“Okay, thanks for…”

“Dear-NESS, what do you people eat? Where are the chips? The Doritos?” Aunt Grace had made herself at home in the cupboards, scavenging through the pantry pushing things aside. “Who do I have to kill to get some Cheetos around here?”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and I heard my Dad release a tense breath. I could see him in my mind, pinching the center of his brow with his thumb and finger.

“Don’t let her trash the place before I get home. I assume she’ll be staying for a few days?”

“I’ll take care of it, Dad.” There was a spare room on the second floor that had a pull out couch, so I would set her up and keep her a safe distance away from him.

“Alright, if you two head anywhere, you call me first.” He sounded sad.

“No problem. See you when you get home.”

“Bye, Clara.”

He didn’t hang up right away, but didn’t say anything either. Was he waiting for me to say something or was there something else he wanted to say? Finally, I heard him exhale and then the click that closed the line.

Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it and my heart sank as I wondered if his mood was due to the day, which Aunt Grace’s visit only painted more vividly. The guilt I felt stung at my chest. I hated the thought of causing him pain.

“Clara?” Her tone was jokingly agitated as she stood in the center of the open kitchen, her hip cocked out to one side. “Cheetos. Stat.”

I saw offering her baby carrots or pita chips in place of Cheetos wouldn’t go over well, so I sighed and walked back to the front door and rustled my wallet out of my book bag.

“I’ve got this, Clara. Think of it as an early birthday present.”

“You know the rules. No parties, no cakes, no presents.” I made a point to remind her of my rules since she was going to make a point of ignoring them. Getting through the day was all I could focus on.

I flipped my phone back open, but Aunt Grace laid her hand on top of mine. “There’s really no need, we’ll be back in a second.”

“But…” I stumbled over the thought of disobeying Dad and landed in a steaming pile of embarrassment. How humiliating. To be turning seventeen and have to check in with my Dad about every step I hoped to take. It was worse than being babysat. It was imprisonment.

“We can even time ourselves,” she said, clicking a button on the side of her fancy watch with a huge grin.

“You need a hobby or something,” I said, laughing at her excitement over a watch.

“My watch is my hobby.” Her eyes seemed so casual with a glint of confidence. She punched in the code on the security panel then turned and opened the front door mumbling under her breath, “He should honestly know better by now.”

I caught up to her on the sidewalk heading to the corner deli just a half block away.

“Know what?” Then the oddity of what had just happened occurred to me. “How do you know our code?”

There were times in the past year where I felt left out of the conversation between them, and rarely did I have my aunt all to myself long enough to probe for answers.

There were whispered conversations and heated debates when they thought I had fallen asleep. The last time I was allowed to be part of it was at our old apartment in the kitchen with the strange visitor named Brik. Though I had never seen him again, the odd name had clung.

She didn’t answer my question, her attention already focused on two figures coming closer to us in the opposite direction.

“Hey, Clara!” Trischa’s voice was even more annoying outside of school. The falsified sincerity had a souring affect on the air around us and I could see Aunt Grace’s posture tighten out of the corner of my eye. Apparently Trischa’s souring affect was not just on me, and I took the slightest bit of comfort in this. She couldn’t seduce everyone.

She was walking next to Dave. I couldn’t help but see the smile that had spread across his face and I melted a little bit. Aunt Grace caught it too because her eyes scanned back and forth between the two of us and stopped, taking a rigid stance that was far too overprotective in my opinion. Dave and Trischa stopped just a few feet in front of us and I forced myself to turn back to Trischa.

“Hey, Trischa. What are you guys doing here?”

“Dave’s taking me to his place,” she said, gloating.

“She asked if she could see it to plan the party, that’s all,” he said, blushing a bit and keeping his eyes on mine. Trischa seemed a bit bruised by his quickness to clarify.

“You should come with us,” he said. “It’s your party after all.”

Trischa rallied quickly. “She can’t. That would spoil the surprise.”

“You’re openly talking about a surprise party?” Grace was poised to criticize, but Trischa shrugged it off.

“I have to check out the venue. It turns out his parents won’t be home this weekend so it’s perfect for our little get together. And his place has a garden courtyard in the back which is great for the overflow if it gets too crowded.”

My eyebrows raised at all the information that had just been tossed at me, and I couldn’t tell what had me more stunned—the party was actually happening, there would be enough people to create an overflow, or the way Trischa’s hand had flittered up to Dave’s arm when she had said Dave was taking her to his place. It was obvious that Dave didn’t like it when she touched him so I wasn’t jealous, but it was clear she was trying to send me a message. More clear than if she had lifted her leg and peed on him right there on the sidewalk.

“Get together?” Aunt Grace was looking at Trischa now, examining her and silently judging a teenager who wore heals to school.

“Yeah, you know. Just something small for Clara’s birthday. Although I’m not sure you’ll know many of the people coming, Clara. But don’t worry, I’ll take you around and introduce you. I won’t leave your side all night.”

A threat. Great.

Aunt Grace gave a quick, condescending chuckle, turned to me and said, “Oh, Clara… you must be so excited.” She was enjoying the visible discomfort I was in.

Dave was still smiling at me, and had maneuvered his arm out of Trischa’s grasp without appearing rude or obvious by shifting his messenger bag from one arm to the arm closest to her. I could feel my cheeks getting warmer the longer he looked at me. I wasn’t able to lift my head up far enough to look him in the eye.

Hiding in the corners and shadows of adolescence had not only saved me from dealing with the likes of Trischa and her congregation of loyal worshippers, but it also kept me from situations like this where a guy, an attractive one at that, was singling me out.

My fingers kept fidgeting at my sides and I knew if I did look up I would either have to confront the daggers Trischa was shooting at me, or worse—Dave’s irresistible charm.

From my left I could hear one sharp laugh from my Aunt Grace as she watched the scene playing out in front of her, sure enough to pick up on the intersecting dynamics within this socially unlikely triangle.

“Dave, was it?” The sarcastic tone in her voice suggested she recognized Dave as the source of her Algebra jokes. “I’m Grace, Clara’s aunt.”

Dave reached his hand out and took hers without actually shaking it. “It’s really nice to meet you,” he said, but she didn’t let go of his hand. For a moment there was something more in their eye contact then simply meeting one another. A moment of recognition, it felt like.

She moved uncomfortably close to him, staring him straight in the eye, tilting her head a little this way and then a little that way. But he never moved. He stayed where he was until finally she put a little space between them.

“Oh yeah, I totally see what you’re saying, Clara. He is hot.”

I was suddenly aware of every square inch of gravity pushing against me along with the very unique weight of humiliation. I wanted to crawl under the parked cars and hide. I wanted to go back up to the house and lock her out. I wanted… to see his reaction.

He was chuckling, a brilliant, casual laugh that suggested both flattery and being in on the joke, because all eyes other than mine shot straight to Trischa who had turned a shade of crimson that clashed with her paisley-designed top.

Trying to keep it together, she licked her lips to calm herself and took a breath. “I’m Trisch. A friend of Clara’s.”

“Yeah, I doubt that,” was all Aunt Grace got out before I was pulling at her arm to remove her from all human interaction for the rest of the day.

“See you tomorrow?” Dave had turned as we passed and his eyes were on me again, crinkled at the outer corners due to the huge smile that now took over his face.

“Oh, Clara… I absolutely approve.” She was still needling me with her overly animated enthusiasm, spoken at a volume that was not for my benefit, but rather Dave’s or Trischa’s.

I heard Dave laughing again from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn back around.

“You’ve been here less than fifteen minutes and you’ve successfully made the remaining years of high school a living hell for me. Well done.”

“He is cute though, and obviously into you. I wouldn’t mind punching her in the throat, though. I’m starting to question your choice in female friends, Clara. I hold you to a higher standard.”

I walked right into the corner deli and straight to the back left corner near the beverage coolers and pulled down a crumpled bag of Cheetos from the rack. I launched it at her before she even had a chance to catch up with me.

“You make it sound like I chose any of this—as if I asked for either one’s attention. I’ve avoided Trischa successfully for years and then this semester started and suddenly…”

“She’s got you cornered, and her hands on your man.” She was pulling a crumpled wad of singles out of her jeans pocket and flattening them onto the counter.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I can’t stay hidden forever.”

She wasn’t looking at me, but I could feel her stiffen as she rolled her fingers around the coins that had been placed back in her hand. The corners of her mouth were turned down and a crinkle between her eyebrows materialized. The silent pause was too long to be comfortable.

“We’ll see about that,” she said, grabbing her bag of Cheetos and brushing by my shoulder on her way out the door.