Shadows Gray

Chapter Eleven



I have never had so much trouble sleeping as I have had the past few nights, since Rose’s appearance and subsequent disappearance. My reliance on Nightfall pills is not ideal (they are as addicting as any other drug and can lead to withdrawl symptoms if you take them too long and then stop) and even in spite of them, I have trouble drifting off and staying asleep until morning. Staying awake is never an option, especially this late in the game, when we could potentially travel on at any time. I know it’s coming, I feel it, and yet I can’t pinpoint why I know. I believe there must be a trigger of sorts, something to judge by, something to gage our time and distance, but I, like every other Lost, cannot find the pattern. It’s as though we’ve been given a 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle with a palm full of key pieces missing. If I could find those pieces, I could put together this frustrating puzzle of a life.

There are theories, of course, and they vary from something as simple as a headache that proceeds travel, to something as complicated as the alignment of the moon and planets, to the earth’s gravitational pull, even to ancient Mayan calendars and predictions. For me, I simply get restless. I do get headaches before we travel, yes, but it’s probably more to do with not sleeping than it is with predicting travel. The spot on the back of my neck becomes stiff and sore, my body feels weary, and yet my head is buzzing and my thoughts are restless and all over the place. I feel that way now, in bed after my bath, my hair still damp, my feet tucked under my nightgown as I pick at the frayed hem that reminds me of Luke’s jeans. When I had arrived home after making my bucket list (of sorts) with Luke, I had said my goodnights to everyone, eaten dinner in my room and gotten ready for bed. I have been here ever since, braiding and unbraiding my hair, changing the compact disc in my little round player and thinking of things as varied as time travel, my sister, Luke, and the art show. I wish I could call Penny and ask her if what Luke proposed was a date. I suppose Meli would know; she and Will must have started out somewhere. Then I stop myself; Luke and I are hardly going to end up that route, it’s only an art show. Although I am alone, I blush furiously. It’s just that I’ve had no practice with this sort of thing. Henrique used to try to hold my hand back in Portugal at school, and once he tried to kiss me but I ducked just in time to avoid his red lips and one of the other kids had come running up just in time to cause a distraction. After that, I avoided him as much as possible. But Luke isn’t like Henrique. Henrique smelled like chicken feathers and soiled clothes, not like soap and spice. I am in over my head, I think. And with that realization – frightening and delicious both – I drift off.

I sleep long and hard, much past my normal waking hour and I only awaken when Prue marches in my room and unceremoniously yanks my blankets off.

“Family meetin,’” she barks. “Up with you!”

I want to pull my pillow over my head and ignore her, but experience has taught me that will end in disaster. Most girls get to go through a lovely teenage rebellion, disrespecting and lazy, full of eye rolling and tantrums, but most girls haven’t been raised by Prue.

“Yes, ma’am,” I mutter, halfheartedly. When I sit up, my head aches the way it always does after too many nights in a row with Nightfall pills and I feel sluggish. I also feel hungry though, and I can smell bacon sizzling. I trade my nightgown for gray sweats and a T-shirt and pad barefoot out of my room.

I had almost forgotten the existence of Bar in my foggy morning state but smile when I seem him seated between the brothers, sipping orange juice. He wears the same suit and his hair is neatly combed. His hands though, shake, in their grip of his juice glass. I fix a plate with pancakes and extra bacon and sit down across from them.

“Alright, let the family meeting begin,” I say, trying to sound cheerful, though the sight of Bar makes me inexplicably sad. I am the last to arrive and the last to eat.

Everyone glances sideways at each other, looking like they are trying not to. What is going on? Finally, Will clears his throat.

“We think it’s time to split up, Sonnet,” he says gently, placing his hand over mine. I chew in confusion, not responding. “We all know small groups of only two or three Lost tend to travel a bit less. We’ve been here two years and we know our time here is growing to a close. Meli and I want to put down roots, at least as much as we can. We’re going to move out.”

“We talked about this a little,” Meli interjects, her eyes meeting mine. “Remember?”

No, not really, but it may have been the other day when she barged in on me soaking in the bath.

“But there’s no guarantee that you will stay here any longer,” I object.

“Yes, but we have to try. I’m going to have a baby,” Meli smiles and pats her stomach. “Can you believe it? And you know how much I hate traveling anyway. If we can just put it off until the baby comes at least…I just think it will be better.”

“Oh.” I feel foolish for not coming up with a better response, but I’m so surprised. Will moves his hand from where it had rested over mine and clasps Meli’s instead.

“That’s not all, my dear,” Harry sighs. “Matthias and I are going away too. We’re going to take Bar and help him find out what happened to his family in Germany. In this day and age, there’s a good chance we can put together the pieces and help him say goodbye. If we travel too soon we won’t get another chance like this. We can use the internet, the museums, all the knowledge of the Holocaust. We have to try, you understand.”

I nod dumbly. Losing Meli and Will was hard enough, losing my favorite brothers is painful. I want to feel anger at Bar, but that would be like striking out at a child. So I muster up a small, pitiful smile and swallow back the ball in my throat.

“Anyone else?” I ask, looking around at my shrinking family. Everyone’s faces are long and serious. My gaze lingers the most on Israel. If he leaves me, I shall lose it. He reaches across the side of the table with his long arm and tousles my head, mussing my braid and calming my heart.

“That’s enough belly achin’,’” Prue says, briskly. “What’s done is done and can’t be undone. Boys, I’m making you food for your trip. Meli and Will, you too. Everyone outta my kitchen, now scoot!”

I manage to shovel in the last of my bacon as Prue whisks my plate away. What just happened here? I somehow lost most of my family in one fell swoop. Although we are accustomed to losing the members of our motley group eventually, no one has ever made the choice to abandon me. Unless you count my mother. This hurts almost as much.

“Why do you have to go, Harry?” I whisper. We are the only two left sitting at the table as everyone else has dispersed. “Someone else can help Bar.”

“No one else understands, Sonnet,” Harry’s voice is firm and he looks a little as though he might be disappointed in me; his surrogate granddaughter.

“I’m sorry. I’m just being selfish, I know. I just don’t want to say goodbye yet, that’s all. You know we’ll never see each other again.” That goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway.

“Nothing’s impossible,” Harry smiles, the folds of his old skin wrinkling up like tissue paper.

I’d rather scowl, but I manage a halfhearted snippet of a smile instead.

It takes less than an hour for Prue to package up several bags of food, a train schedule to be found, and the goodbyes to start. One nice thing about the Lost: we travel light. Of course I cry hugging Matthias and Harry, but I surprise myself by getting misty over the loss of Will and Meli too. They are not the easiest people to live with, but I know their idiosyncrasies by heart: Meli’s talkative nature and dramatics, and Will’s monotone steadiness. Evidently they have the opportunity to live in someone’s mobile home a couple of counties away, in exchange for caretaking of the property. They have been planning this for a while at least and now I feel guilty for feeling taken aback when apparently Meli had been dropping hints all week. That’ll teach me to pay attention when people talk, even if I’m up to my ears in bubbles at the time.

When it comes to Bar, I don’t know what to say. I feel a little angry with him for putting me in this position but really it’s my own fault for bringing him home. And it will be good for Matthias and Harry to have something to do besides watch game shows. I shake Bar’s hand and try to smile genuinely enough. I would have liked for him to be my pretend cousin. And I wish with all my heart that I could somehow know how his story turns out.

********************

What little enthusiasm I can fake is depleted; I immediately head for the sanctuary of Emme’s apartment. It’s a walk that normally takes me a half hour, but I find myself marching so briskly I make it in twenty minutes. It’s as though my feet are on the verge of escaping – running away. I have been gone only minutes and I already am dreading entering back into my little brown house, made bigger by the absence of loved ones. Israel will be happy to get his own room though; he always said Harry’s snoring sounded like an elk bugling all night long.

I barge in the way I always do once I reach Emme’s front door. She greets me warmly and hears my sob story over tea and blueberries muffins with butter.

“Ah, luv, you’ll be just fine. Goodbyes happen all the time; you aren’t cursed and you aren’t the only one it happens to. That’s life, that’s all.” She winks at me, while piling her wavy hair on top her head and securing it with a clip.

“I know,” I sigh. “But I’ll miss them! Harry and Matthias were the only sane ones in the house! Well, if you don’t count their compulsive game show addiction.”

“What you need is a distraction. Forget your sorrows for a while.”

“I’m not getting drunk if that’s what you’re suggesting,” I grumble, picking apart my muffin until it’s nothing but a pile of crumbs; faintly purple hued.

Emme laughs.

“Oh!” I say, remembering. “I do have something of a distraction coming up tonight.” I tell her about my bucket list with Luke and how we are going to the art show.

“Mmmm,” she contemplates, her eyes sparkling. “And is this Luke a handsome bloke?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I lie. Lying is a gift of the Lost – we all excel at it. I barely even flush.

“I see,” Emme responds and I can tell by her smile that she does. “Well, handsome or no, we’re going to get you ready and knock his knickers off!”

“Emme!”

“I meant socks! Knock his socks off!” Emme laughs so hard she has to hold her stomach and tears come to her eyes. Evidently my look of horror is hysterical. I flick a blueberry at her.

“Alright, alright,” she gasps for breath. “I’m done…really, I swear. Anyway, what are you planning on wearing? Because I can guarantee we will go with the opposite of your plan.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I was going to wear what I’m wearing right now.” I look down and inspect my clothes. Clean and barely wrinkled.

She narrows her eyes as she inspects my gray T-shirt and jeans. “No, you’re not. Art shows are something you dress up for, Sonnet. There’ll be hoity-toity rich people there, and appetizers, and wine. Blimey, girl, women will be wearing dresses and heels, and men will be all polished up and respectable like!”

“No way am I wearing heels,” I promise.

An hour later, I am wearing heels.

********************

“I look ridiculous,” I complain, as I walk back and forth in Emme’s tiny living room. My ankles still toddle and wobble and I feel like I am ten feet tall: not in a good way either.

“You do look ridiculous,” Emme agrees, hands on her hips, “But that’s because you’re wearing baggy pants and frowning. Stand up straight and smile!”

I stick my tongue out at her instead and as payment for my sassiness I promptly fall over and crash to the floor.

“Serves you right!” Emme giggles, “You’re the worst pupil I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only pupil you’ve ever had. Are you sure these are the lowest heels you have? And the most plain?”

“They’re ordinary black pumps, Sonnet! For goodness sake, I wouldn’t wear those things to the grocery store, they’re so boring! But if you really don’t like them, I do have some four inch sparkly light up ones,” she teases.

“No, thanks.”

I look down at them. They are ordinary black and I suppose I’d hardly notice them on anyone else, but on me, they seem conspicuous and like they’re crying out for attention on my feet.

“But don’t worry, they won’t look boring when I get you into the dress I’m thinking of. Come on now, stop stalling. We still have hair and make-up.” She yanks me to my feet.

“I hate make-up,” I mutter. Make-up makes me think of Harry and Matthias who would be appalled at me wearing the stuff. I never bother, mostly because I don’t want to buy any and also because my eyes are striking enough without lining them or darkening my lashes. And I’ve never tried lipstick either, unless rubbing burst berries on my lips as a pre-teen in Portugal counts. I doubt Emme would count that.

Emme leads me to her bedroom and yanks out a deep red dress from her closet. It is very beautiful, with small straps and a satin feel to it.

“You’re three feet shorter than I am. How’s this going to work?” I demand.

“It’s too long on me. And I’m hardly three feet shorter, drama queen. A few inches. It will show off those long legs you have.”

I don’t want to show off my long legs. I want to wear my jeans. With sneakers. But I obediently step into it and let Emme zip up the back. I turn to face the mirror.

“It’s tight,” I object.

“Is not!”

“Is too! I can’t hardly breathe! I want some of those appetizers you promised me would be there! How am I supposed to eat and drink and move?”

“Good grief, you are such a big baby. I don’t why I put up with you. Pull up your big girl nappy and stop whining. Really. Take it off while we work on your hair and face.”

I grumble through the whole hair process as well, making Emme threaten me with a curling iron. After that, she applies enough make-up to glamour up an entire circus and when she leaves to make us iced tea, I wipe almost all of it off. I leave a thin line of dark eyeliner and the mascara which make my eyes look huge when I look in the mirror, and the first layer of powder. Oh, and the gloss on my lips which is a light shimmery pink color and doesn’t taste half bad.

I put the hated dress back on and step back to analyze my appearance. I don’t look like a girl anymore, and the reflection looking back at me is one I’ve never seen. No one has ever seen this half girl, half woman before. I can’t help wondering what people will think. I can’t help wishing I could hide behind my jeans and T-shirt and cap, as well.

“Alrighty, luv,” Emme steps back and admires her work. “That’ll do. Now all you have to do is walk home in those heels and then try to look like you haven’t been walking at all when this Luke picks you up.”

“Oh fabulous,” I grumble. “Give me back my clothes and I’ll carry these instruments of torture in a sack.” I gesture to the heels which are already pinching my feet.

She bundles up my clothes and fancy shoes for me and gives me a kiss on the cheek as I go through the door. “Emme,” I pause, my hand on the doorframe. “Do you think we’ll travel together? I don’t want to leave you too. We’ve both been here a long while. It’s time – I can practically feel it.”

“Feel it?” Emme frowns. “I never feel a thing.”

“It’s just a restlessness, that’s all. Like things are fading away but moving faster at the same time. I can’t hardly sleep and I feel like I only have a few moments left in this time before I disappear altogether, you know?”

“Not really,” she laughs. “You really are a drama queen tonight, Sonnet. But you’re right, we’ve both been here long enough and I expect us to move on soon. Nothing to be afraid of though, luv. It’s not exactly our first rodeo!” She winks. Emme’s American expressions spoken in her British accent always make me laugh. “Now get a move on. I want to hear all about tonight first thing tomorrow! You’re working in the morning?” I nod. “I’ll come by then first thing. Well, not first thing, but before noon, alright?”

“Alright,” I sigh, hefting my sack over my shoulder and starting down the stairs. “Do I look as ridiculous as I think I do?” I glance down at my sneakers which don’t exactly go with my red dress.

“Absolutely!” Ever cheery Emme. “Now get out of here!”