Ask Me (11 page)

“Aria,” called Gran. “Up and at ’em! I need you to help me out at the store today.”

By “store” she really meant her roadside stand: one of those ubiquitous greying half-building, half-shack stands that dot the roads all over Florida, shilling everything from orange juice to saltwater taffy and discounted Disney tickets. Gran sold fruit from our pitifully few trees, as well as her homemade jams and jellies, and pretty much whatever else she and Granddad could scrounge up. But Lake Mariah wasn’t a prime Florida destination, nor was it directly on the road to one. Very few tourists made it through our part of the state.

If she wanted me to help out, that really meant she wanted to keep an eye on me. Luckily, even with the whole Alex situation, I had arrived home before Gran and Granddad’s celebratory dinner ended. It was only her normal concerns that drove her. She had no idea what I’d done after leaving the restaurant. With the morning sun streaming in through my old lady lace curtains, the whole thing felt surreal. Had I really helped a drunken murderer get home? Was he really the culprit? Or had I just dreamed the whole thing?

“Okay, Gran,” I called, knowing she was waiting, probably standing half in, half out of our front door, letting in the mosquitoes like she always did. “I’ll meet you there. Half an hour, I promise.”

“Great,” she yelled back. “Porter’s gone fishing. Says he’s going to catch dinner, so maybe you should get something out of the freezer. See you in a few.” The screen door wheezed shut as she left.

I allowed myself a smile as I got up. Granddad never caught anything unless I went with him. He had as much luck with the fishes as he usually did with the dogs, though I was usually more help with telling him where to cast his line than telling him what dog to pick. I went to the kitchen and pulled some hamburger out of the freezer so it could thaw.

I made it to Gran’s stand in twenty-five minutes with my hair still wet from the shower. It hung heavy down my back, making my dress stick to my skin from my collar to my waist. With the humidity, it would be over an hour before it dried completely. Gran was always telling me I should cut it all off. Long hair didn’t make sense in Florida, she said. But I couldn’t do it.

I handed Gran the fresh thermos of coffee I’d brought with me, and she grunted her thanks. To me, my long hair made more sense than Gran drinking gallons and gallons of a hot beverage during the heat of the day, but she’d no more give up the caffeine than I would my best feature. It made me think of Alex and my self-portrait and whether or not he would indeed be able to step beyond his father’s shadow and rise above it. Definitely not if he turned to the bottle again. But it wasn’t my problem to think about.

“Quiet today,” said Gran.

It was quiet every day around here, but I nodded and climbed up on a stool next to her.

“About last night,” she started but stopped when I held up a hand.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to say it.”

“All right,” she said. “I won’t. But you know—”

“I know, Gran,” I said. “I know.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. A pickup truck drove by, slowed down almost imperceptibly and then went on without stopping. We did sometimes get a little local traffic for the vegetables and herbs Gran grew in a tidy little plot behind our house, but it was so hot this time of year that there wasn’t much to harvest. No reason for anyone to stop other than pity.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said, startling both of us.

“Dangerous,” said Gran. She grinned at me, her eyes crinkled at the corners.

“What if I just took my GED? Then I wouldn’t have to go back to school.” I’d actually been thinking about this since she’d quit homeschooling me after eighth grade. School was nothing but embarrassment and pain. Going out in public was the same. I had to figure out a way to shield myself better.

“Aria, you’ve made it so far. You can’t give up now.”

“I know. But—” I couldn’t think how to put it into words. How frustrating it was walking the halls every day, my head down, mumbling nonsense. How the only time anyone looked at me it was with disgust or distrust and I wasn’t sure which hurt more. Alex’s words came back to me again. No one wanted me. Even dead drunk he could see that. Why couldn’t Gran? I sighed. “I don’t see why I can’t just get my GED for now. Then, when
I lose the ‘gift’ I can start off new, maybe at CFCC or something.”

There was no way I could afford a four-year university, but I could probably swing a small community college, especially if I was able to get a job. But there was no way I could get a job until my gift was gone. I was seventeen now, the same age as when she’d lost her gift. Why wasn’t mine gone?

“Aria,” said Gran. She reached out her hand, knuckles swollen with arthritis, and patted my shoulder. “I know it’s hard. I’ve been there. But you’ve got to
live
your life. Don’t give up on everything. You can’t squirrel yourself away. Who cares what people think?”

“Everyone,” I said.

She lightly punched my shoulder. “You’re a beautiful girl, Aria. A beautiful person. You should be out there, shouting your truths from the mountaintops.”

“Gran, this is Florida. There are no mountains.” I tried out a small smile so she’d know I was teasing. Next she’d be telling me what a wonderful personality I had.

She laughed. “I’m serious, girl. It’s time you showed the world who you are. It’s not everyone who has a chance to make a real difference. Grab that bull by the horns.”

“And do what? Tell women that their husbands think they’re fat?”

“No, of course not. Though that will happen, too. I remember that woman. Maybe she needed to hear that. Maybe that lady has diabetes and needs to watch her diet.”

“Maybe she just looks bad in a bathing suit, and now she’ll never get in one again.”

“Fine,” snorted Gran. “Maybe she was destined to drown at the beach, and you changed that. Now she’ll live to be a hundred and three, fat and happy, with over twenty great-grandkids.”

I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Gran let out her hyena cackle along with me. She had the kind of laugh you could hear for miles. It always surprised me. It was such a big, joyful noise coming from such a small person. We leaned into each other on our stools until our laughter had died down to a sputter. Gran wiped her eyes and gave me a quick squeeze before letting me go.

“You’ll find your place in life, Aria, don’t you worry. I did. Now, no more talk about getting out of school. We’ll get you through it.”

I nodded, but the good feelings I’d built up during our laughter faded. She’d found Granddad after she’d lost her gift. When she talked about how it had been for her, she never seemed to have any bad stories, just happy ones. Her first prophecy had been about the end of the war back in 1945. She’d been twelve, just like I was when my curse started. But my first prophecy had been about something stupid, not momentous. I couldn’t even remember now exactly what it was, though I could remember the feeling of surprise and dread that had filled me when I found that my voice wasn’t my own.

“Look alive,” said Gran. “We’ve got a customer.” She got up and bustled around rearranging jam jars on a rickety shelf.

I stayed on my stool and watched as a black car slowed down and then actually stopped. It was so clean it
practically shone. I wondered who the crazy person with a black car in Florida was. Then the door opened, and Will climbed out. What was he doing here? He couldn’t possibly want grapefruit preserves. I sat up straighter on my stool and picked up an old magazine lying on the counter.

“Hey, Aria,” he called out as he came towards us in that smooth easy lope that reminded me of a panther.

“Hello, Will.” I put the magazine back down and tucked my hair behind my ear. I could feel a blush threatening to break out on my cheeks, just thinking about the last time we had talked. I’d had no choice but to cut and run. He’d come far too close to discovering my secret. Gran might say she wanted me to shout my truths from a mountaintop, but did she really mean it?

“Well, Aria, you should introduce your old grandmother,” she said, dropping all pretense of rearranging the shelves.

I stood up and waved vaguely between them. “Gran, this is Will Raffles. He goes to school with me. He was Jade Price’s boyfriend.”

Why had I added that? Gran shot me a pointed glance as Will stepped forward with his hand out.

“Nice to meet you … Gran,” he said with a slight smile.

“Oh, sorry!” I said, and the blush bloomed after all. “Ellie Porter.” I waved my hand again and then let it drop.

“But you can call me Gran, if you like,” she said and met his smile with one of her own. “And I’m sorry about your girlfriend. Terrible thing, just terrible.”

“We actually weren’t really dating anymore,” he said,
glancing at me. “But thank you. It is a terrible thing.” He swallowed, his voice hoarse. “That’s the only way to put it.”

Gran nodded, then dusted her hands off briskly and turned to me like his arrival had interrupted a conversation we weren’t having. “So, Aria,” she said. “I’ve got to go run and get that … thing. I’ll be back in a while. Half an hour at least.” She smiled again at Will. “Maybe your friend can keep you company?”

“No problem,” he said. “I’m excellent company.”

“Wonderful! It’s been a real quiet day, but I always hate to leave Aria here by her lonesome, especially with what happened … There’s been hardly anyone by at all today. Great for talking, though.”

Gran was about as transparent as mud. I was surprised she hadn’t added a wink for good measure.

“Gran,” I said, not even sure what I was going to say. But she just smiled real big at me and practically ran for her car. I shrugged as she drove away, keeping my eyes on her disappearing taillights.

Will was silent for what seemed like a very long time.

“I’m sorry about lunch the other day,” I said, deciding to get it over with. Besides, I meant it. I was sorry. Not necessarily for running away, but for the whole situation. I shouldn’t pretend to have normal conversations when I can’t.

“Don’t be.” He shifted into my line of sight, not taking his eyes off of mine. “So,” he said intently, “let me see if I’ve got this right … whenever someone asks you a question, you have to answer?”

I tried to bite my answer back, with no luck. I almost
didn’t recognize my own voice; it came out with such strength.

“I am the voice, I am the truth. Ask me, I will speak.” My breath caught in my chest, and I sat down hard on the stool, looking anywhere but at Will.

He grabbed my shoulder to steady me. “And you
have
to answer them, is that right? You have no choice?” His voice was calm but firm.

“The truth compels me. I must answer. What is choice but an illusion?” The words came out with forceful strength, but my tongue felt foreign to me.

“Who—
what
—are you?”

No one had ever asked me
that
before. I raised my eyes to his, not sure at all what I was going to say and half afraid to hear it. “I am Aria. I am Sybil. So my ancestors before me, so my daughters after me. I am the vessel of truth, and the truth flows through me.” My body shook, and goosebumps rose on my arms despite the heat of the day.

Will let go of my shoulder and sat down on Gran’s stool, his eyes faraway. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I felt drained and weak. Insubstantial. What was I? I was a freak. Gran had always told me we came from a long line of seers, but this, this was too much. A Sybil? An actual, honest-to-God, real oracle? I wasn’t a person. I was a
thing
. A mouthpiece.

“Well,” said Will. I looked at him. He had that slightly twisted smile on his lips. “That was weird. But it wasn’t wholly unexpected.”

I laughed in spite of myself, but it didn’t last long. Maybe this was what hysteria felt like. The shock would be setting in soon. “Sorry you asked?”

“No,” he said. “Are you sorry I asked?”

“No,” I said, surprised at my answer. “And this is me talking now, too, not … 
whatever
. I really don’t know how I feel about it. You’re the only person other than family who knows my secret.” I was torn. I was terrified but at the same time, relief washed over me.
Someone
knew, and that someone hadn’t run away screaming. Yet. It wasn’t a mountain, and I wasn’t shouting, but …

“I guess I see why you don’t really talk to people at school. How does—” He stopped. “Maybe I shouldn’t actually
ask
my question.” He cocked his head at me, some of his hair flipping into his eyes. “Maybe you could
tell
me how it works.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It’s nice to have a choice and be able to pick my own words.” I closed my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts. I wasn’t used to talking about it. Gran wanted me to use my gift, but she didn’t want me to actually tell people about it and neither did Granddad. He said people would want to use me. Most people are decent, he’d say, but there are some things human beings can’t resist.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell Will anything more, but I found myself continuing. “I’ve been this way since I was twelve. If I hear a question, I have to answer it.”

He opened his mouth and snapped it shut again. I nodded, accepting his unasked question and pleased that he’d remembered to not ask it.

“It doesn’t matter if someone’s asking me directly or not. I have to answer
any
question I hear. You asked why I was always mumbling under my breath. That’s why.”

“Go on,” he said and reached out to hold my hand.

I stared at our fingers as he entwined his with mine. It didn’t even feel like it was my hand; it looked so unfamiliar being held in his. “My Gran had it, too. But my mom never did.” I looked straight into his eyes. “I hate it. It’s a curse. I don’t have any control over my answers at all. My
truths.”
Some sullenness leaked into my words, and he squeezed my fingers. “And I don’t know what any of it means. Sometimes my answers make sense, but a lot of the time it just comes out so much nonsense.” He raised his eyebrows at me, another unspoken question. “Okay, not nonsense exactly. It’s always the truth, but sometimes the answer comes out kind of like a riddle and you can’t figure it out until afterwards.”