- 10 -
Opt-Out
When Mary got home, she got on the computer and did a web search for "possession." The first hits didn't help much. Mostly movie descriptions and a band's fan page. Farther down the list, she found websites for psychics, wiccans, and priests advertising their various services. One site gave step-by-step instructions and a list of ingredients to perform your own exorcism.
She did come across some articles about spiritual vs. demonic possessions. Apparently, in parts of Africa, Asia, and other places in the world, witch doctors were not uncommon. They used the powers of various "spirits" do all sorts of things. If someone pissed you off and you wanted to curse them, they could do that for you.
The next link Mary clicked took her to an online Christian Bible. She skimmed through a couple books before she started reading some of the Gospel of Matthew. It had several stories about demon-possessed people, and it listed demon possession with seizures, pain, and paralysis as similar ailments.
One story that caught her attention was in the seventeenth chapter. It was about a boy with seizures that were supposedly caused by a demon. The boy's father brought him to Jesus' disciples and asked for help, but they couldn't do anything for him. But when he brought his son to Jesus, the miracle maker scolded his followers for their lack of faith and healed the boy himself. By the time Mary looked at the clock, it was close to midnight.
She abandoned the search to finish her homework. Then she crawled into bed and she tried to force herself to sleep. That was, of course, impossible. Tons of thoughts resumed their circus in her head. All the information she had found online was about bad possessions. The things that had taken control of those people had made them suffer. Whatever possessed Carter—if that was the case—wasn't like that. It made him decent. Even likeable.
That wasn't bad, was it?
In a way, Mary had answered one of the questions plaguing her since this "new" Carter showed up. Whatever possessed those people she read about didn't leave on their own. They had to be exorcized or, in Jesus' story, cast out. If that was the case, then whatever Carter had wasn't going on its own. It was staying until someone else did something about it.
***
"Good morning," Carter greeted Mary as she got off the bus. He looked at her eyes. "You didn't sleep well."
"I was up late getting stuff done," she said.
They crossed the street and went into the school. He followed her to her locker.
"Um, Carter?" she asked as she got her books.
"Yes?"
"What do you normally do for lunch?"
"Not much."
"I usually spend it in the Art room," she said. "Would you like to meet me there today?"
He smiled. "I would."
The bell rang.
"Okay. I'll see you then," she said.
"See you later, Mary."
Pre-Cal was a fog. Mary even had trouble concentrating in Art. As she brushed white gesso onto a canvas to prime it, the thought of meeting with Carter occupied the foremost parts of her brain like a whale in a kiddie pool. She had to get answers. But she couldn't just ask the obvious questions. "So Carter, been possessed lately? Spirit or demon? Is there a difference?"
No, she would have to take a subtler approach. If anything, she didn't want to chase him away again. This was going to take some extra thought in her words. Something she was never good at.
When the lunch bell rang, everyone else left for the cafeteria. Mary got out her sandwich and an orange from her bag as Carter walked into the room.
"Hello," he greeted.
"Hey," she said. "Have a seat."
"Thank you." He sat across from her.
"Aren't you eating?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm not hungry."
"You know, lunch is pretty important," she said. "My mom sometimes forgets to eat. I give her a hard time about it."
He smiled. "That's good of you. But I'm fine. Thank you."
She took a bite and chewed. He watched.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"Yes."
She set her sandwich down and picked up the orange. "How come you don't hang out with your friends anymore?"
He cocked his head to the side. "My friends?"
"Yeah, your friends," she said. "The ones you hung out with all the time. The ones on the basketball team."
"I am not on the basketball team anymore."
"You said that before," she said. "But how come you don't still hang out with your friends? Even outside of school?"
"Oh." He thought for a moment. "They don't like to be around me anymore."
She looked at him. "They don't?"
He shook his head. "They liked me when I played basketball. And because I could buy things for them."
"Things?" she asked. "What things?"
"Things," he said. "You are better off not knowing."
She dug her fingernail into the orange and pulled off some peel. "Are you into these things, too?"
"No," he said. "Not anymore."
She peeled off more orange skin. Some of the oils squirted out, filling the air with a fresh scent. "How come you broke up with Laci?"
Again, he didn't answer immediately. "I am not right for her."
"Did you dump her or did she dump you?" she asked.
He cocked his head to the side. "Dump?"
"Yeah," she said. "Who's idea was it to break up first?"
"Oh, I see," he said. "I believe it was hers. But it was necessary for us to part ways."
"Necessary?" she repeated.
"Yes," he said. "She is…in need. Of finding herself. To know what she can do. I rob her of that journey by staying with her."
More orange peel came off. Mary could see how someone like Laci could take offense to hearing something like that. "So, you broke up with her for her sake?"
"Yes," he said. "And no."
"What's the 'no' part?"
"I broke up with her for me, too," he said. "I want to find who I am, too."
Mary split the orange in half and dug out the stringy stuff in the middle. "I see." She actually didn't.
"Can I ask you something now?" he asked.
"If I can opt-out," she said.
He wrinkled his brow. "Opt-out?"
She nodded. "I reserve the right not to answer something that I don't feel comfortable talking about." Sure, it was a wussy thing to do, but Mary didn't like taking chances. Especially now.
"You always have that whenever you talk to me," he said.
"Just wanted to make sure," she said. "What's your question?"
"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"
Opt-out! Opt-out!
Mary took a bite of the orange wedge and chewed slowly. It gave her time to think. "I just don't," she finally answered.
"But why?"
She tore off another wedge and ate it slowly again. "I don't like instability."
"And having a boyfriend would be unstable?"
"Very much so."
"How?"
"Boys complicate things."
"But how?"
"They just do." She said that a little too harsh.
He was quiet.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean that."
"It's all right," he said. "My questions bother you."
"Yes," she said, but then added quickly, "No, they don't. It's the answers that bother me."
"You don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to," he reminded her.
Mary sighed. She picked up her sandwich and took another bite. When she swallowed, she said, "My turn to ask again."
"Certainly."
"How did you get out of the hospital so fast?"
His left eye twitched. Slightly. "I heal fast," he answered.
"That was too fast," she said. "My mom's a nurse. She said stuff like that doesn't happen. Not naturally."
He thought for a moment. "I'm an unnaturally fast healer."
Mary wasn't convinced.
"My turn," he said. "When you said you don't know who your father is, did you really mean that?"
She looked at him. "What?"
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "That was probably not the correct way to ask that."
She popped the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "My mom was young. She had a lot of boyfriends and messed around a lot. It made Ba really sad. Then she got pregnant." She picked up the remains of the orange but didn't eat them. "I guess he didn't want me. Mom went back home to Ba. Nine months later…voila."
"Have you ever asked to meet him?"
She shook her head.
"Why not?"
"Why would I want to meet someone who didn't want me?"
"Did your mother or grandmother say that he didn't want you?"
She tore off another orange wedge. "No, but it's obvious that after all this time, if he hasn't come looking for me, then I'm not worth finding." Mary realized what she had just said. She hadn't meant it like that, but maybe that's what she'd been feeling all this time. And it was only in front of this boy, who was probably possessed, that she had revealed a little too much of herself.
He stared at her and said nothing. It made her feel naked.
"What?" she asked.
Carter smiled. "I think it's the other way around."
"What do you mean?"
"A treasure hunter who won't go looking for his treasure is rather useless."
Mary ate the last of her orange. She didn't like talking about this anymore. "My turn. What are you going to do now that you're not with Laci?"
"I don't know," he said.
"You don't plan on going out with someone else?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Is there a rule that says I have to?"
"That's not an answer."
"You asked two questions in a row."
"So?" she said.
He chuckled again. "Well, it's my turn at any rate. Have you forgiven me for insulting you?"
She started to say, "opt-out." But what came out instead was, "I don't know."
"I will apologize again, if that will help," he said. "I will do whatever I can to make amends."
"Why is this so important to you?" she asked.
"Because it's important to you," he said. "And that makes it important to me."
"I didn't say it was important to me," she said.
"No, you didn't," he said. "But you brought it up with a tone that suggested it was."
They were both silent for a moment. Mary didn't like where this was going. And since it was her turn to ask now, she changed the subject. "My turn. Why did you save me that day from the bus?"
Carter sat back in his chair quickly. He looked like he had been shocked.
Brrrriiinnnngggg! went the bell.
Carter stood. "Opt-out." And he was gone.
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