Redemption (5 page)

“That’s good.”

“I guess … ”

“She deserves her peace.”

He nodded.

“But I think I made my peace too,” he said.

I appreciated the sentiment, but I couldn’t return it, and my thoughts were already on to something else. “We need to get our strength back, Garnier. I can’t remember feeling this weak since we were made.”

“Why? We no longer have anyone to protect. I understood the necessity when we were protecting her … but not now. Now it would be selfish. Now is the time for us to be normal.”

“Normal? How long do you think this essence will last us? Months? I think it is most likely weeks. How is experiencing life for a couple of weeks normal?”

“And what if we don’t find the answer and we end up wasting the precious little time we have searching?”

“For once, we have control over our destiny. Why are you such a coward, Garnier? If you weren’t, maybe she’d be alive—” I stopped. It wasn’t Garnier’s fault.

“She’d be over a hundred years old. I highly doubt she’d still be alive,” Garnier said. He was calm but his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. “And if I had my full strength, I’d make you regret—”

“Make me regret what exactly? Do you really think there is anything you can do that would make any difference to the amount of regret I already carry?”

His shoulders slumped.

“I thought this was behind us … ”

“As did I … ”

“I guess when you’re feeling truly alive for the first time in near seventy years, it becomes too easy to remember the past.”

I nodded. I’d done rather well blocking the past. Until now.

Garnier must have sensed my mood. “I guess I need to go down and see what needs to be done.”

I tried to nod but it came out as more of a twitch. He left.

Alone again, I lay back on the roof and tried to keep the memories from flooding back in.

“I don’t think he loves me, you know.” The late-afternoon sun reflected on the fiery tones of her hair. The lake behind her sparkled like the mischief in her eyes.

“Of course he loves you,” I said. I was sure he did, and the truth of it killed me.

“Whenever he doesn’t think I’m looking, he gets a faraway look in his eyes. He acts cool, but there’s something under the surface.” Her eyes no longer shone. She had cast them down as if she looked to her feet for answers.

I dismissed her observations for the nonsense they were. Of course he loved her. What was there not to love? Wasn’t it why I was out here with her? It was why I felt so much guilt for the next question before I even asked it. I took a step toward her and her lips pulled up into a small smile.

“Marguerite?”

When she saw how serious I was, her smile wavered and disappeared. Her eyebrows furrowed, but she said nothing. She waited.

“Do you love him?”

She sighed and opened her mouth to answer but the crackling sound of dried leaves called our attention to the small copse of trees to our right. Together, we turned toward the noise.

“There you both are.” Garnier took Marguerite’s hand and motioned for us to follow him. “Mary isn’t well. Vincent needs us.”

I watched his guarded expression. Did he really love her? I couldn’t worry about it now, Mary’s life was reaching its twilight and we’d been expecting this moment. We needed to be there to support Vincent.

Vincent had taken care of some errands while I was on the roof. He had bought several bags of miscellaneous items. After watching for a few decades, we normally tried to catch up on anything we may have missed. We had never before watched for more than twenty years. He threw a few bags of clothing at each of us. He must have believed our seventy-year-old clothing just wouldn’t cut it anymore. I grabbed mine and walked to my new room.

Suddenly everything that needed to be done seemed overwhelming. Maybe it was easier to do nothing but watch after all. I sat on my bed for several minutes trying to take inventory of what we had to do, and realized that a few hours of sleep leaning against a building was not enough. I should think about getting some rest if I planned to follow the girl again in the morning. We went without sleep when in full strength, but in my current state, I needed it badly. Right on cue my stomach gurgled. I also needed some food.

“Did we buy groceries yet?”

“Of course. We’ve also all eaten already. Which could explain why you’re the only crabby one left,”
Antoine answered.

“I’m not crabby.”
I was reminded why I hadn’t talked to these guys in close to a quarter of a century. They were annoying.

“Just come on out and join us, will you?”
Garnier’s happy voice sounded forced, even in my head.

But I did join them in the living room.

Their appearances surprised me. They’d taken advantage of the shower and Vincent’s purchases. They all looked …
modern. Similar to any of the other guys you would see walking around down the street, albeit the well-dressed ones.

Antoine pointed to the fridge. “Help yourself to dinner.”

I gawked at him before following his suggestion. His appearance was the most changed. Without the Vaseline pushing his hair down the way we had all worn it, his hair was curly, a tamed version of one of the hairstyles I noticed during the Seventies. He wore jeans—they all did—and a dress shirt he kept untucked.

I went to get something to eat. A variety of prepackaged food waited for me in the modern steel refrigerator. I gazed at it with narrowed eyes and rubbed at the rough stubble on my chin.

“What is all of this?’

“I don’t know, but isn’t the packaging enticing? Much of the food is now available prepared in advance, it’s fascinating.”
Antoine must have done the grocery shopping.

“So what do I eat?”
Couldn’t we keep it uncomplicated for now? Why could he not at least try to leave things the way they used to be?

“Why don’t you grab a sandwich?”
I could almost hear Vincent’s sigh.

I had to admit a sandwich was a good idea. After preparing it, I stood at the kitchen counter and devoured it. And then made a second one.

My hunger satiated at last, I walked back to the living room where the boys were reading from a pile of newspapers and magazines.

“So now what?” Vincent directed the question at me.

“I don’t know … ”

“You are the one who decided to shapeshift when our essence returned. You are the one who is following the girl around. You must have a plan … a purpose.”

A purpose. We were lost without one. With Marguerite gone, we had no one to protect. With her, her entire lineage had ended … along with this said purpose.

Garnier’s words brought me to the present. “I have a purpose. I’ll finally live a normal life. The life that was taken away from us all these centuries ago.”

“A normal life?” I asked.

“And what do
you
propose to do?” Vincent asked.

“I need to find out about the girl. How she woke us. What she is to us.”

“And what is that going to prove? It was a fluke,” Garnier said.

“A fluke? How could it be a fluke? She knew a Kanien’kéha incantation that would wake us. She somehow summoned the drums that … well, I need to learn more.”

Antoine shrugged. “You are free to do what you wish. We are all free now … But Guillaume, I hope you understand that no matter what you find out, it will not bring
her
back.”

I pretended not to understand. “Bring her back? I’m only trying to figure her out.” I said referring to the girl knowing full well he referred to Marguerite.

“You know what I mean.” Antoine’s voice was patient, maybe even kind.

“I know … but this is not about Marguerite. Not everything is about her.” Not anymore … it hadn’t been for a long time.

“You need to move on, Guillaume. We all have, even Garnier. Now it’s your turn.” Vincent said.

I walked out and back to my bedroom. I pushed back the dusty covers and crawled into bed, immediately falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I woke up amidst a tangle of sheets. I looked at the clock on my nightstand and noted that though dawn was still far away, I’d slept for over twelve hours. Dust stuck uncomfortably to my sweat, but it was nothing a shower wouldn’t resolve. Overall, I felt much better than the previous day. Sleep had done me some good.

I debated how to spend my day and finally decided to find the girl. I had planned to wait until Monday to avoid as much watching as possible, but my every instinct screamed that this was too urgent. Every day without an answer would bring us closer to watching again. I couldn’t go back.

I made my way to the shower not wanting to waste any time. I had not thought it would feel this good until I was in there, the hot water sluicing down decades of filth. It left me reborn. I dropped to my knees, and scrubbed the grease from my hair. The steamy heat of the water against my skin almost burned and left behind a renewed sensation of life and pain. Like an awakening of my senses and mind. With my eyes closed, I imagined the sins of my past washing down the drain with the murky water. A deep exhalation purged me further of weight from deeds long past.

I left the shower feeling invigorated and regretted that I had not taken it earlier. The pair of jeans and black dress shirt I put on were comfortable. I enjoyed the crisp feel of the clean clothing against my skin. My entire body tingled with sensation. I hadn’t felt this alive in close to seventy years. I rubbed a towel through my brown hair to take out the excess water. My mirror reflection reassured me I would fit into the crowds a lot better today, which was preferable when trailing someone.

I left the apartment the way we came in. I didn’t want to risk using the private elevator from the penthouse. I would take the metro again, but this time I would actually pay for it. It seemed the most efficient way to travel. I felt a small thrill at the thought of doing things the regular way and understood Garnier’s wish for a normal life.

I took the metro to her exit and walked to her street. At the corner of her street, I leaned against a hard, cold metal pole and zoomed in to watch her house. I lit up a cigarette from the new pack I’d bought at the metro station and started fidgeting. I was watching again. It was the last thing I wanted to be doing. It was too early, and I just couldn’t stand still.

I wandered a few blocks west, making sure not to stray too far. A large book and music store caught my attention. Media was a great way to be acquainted with details of this era that I may have missed. It was somewhere to look for answers.

Maybe I wouldn’t even need to follow the girl. Most answers could be found in books—if one cared to search hard enough. I hesitated. The store would open in a few minutes, but I risked the chance of missing the girl. Even though the others didn’t seem overly concerned, I understood that our state was temporary and we needed to solve that problem while we could. I looked between the store and the house and decided to take the chance with the store. I couldn’t spend all morning just watching her house.

The size of the store shocked me. It had a basement filled with movies, a main floor with books and music, and a second floor with more merchandise and musical instruments. A one-stop media shop. It would have been helpful, if I knew how to search for what I needed. I turned over several items, not sure exactly what to do with them and finally decided to go look at the books. I spent several hours reading anything that caught my interest. I read fast, unnaturally fast, which I couldn’t take complete advantage of while in a crowded store full of people who would notice. I read history books, books on culture, mysticism, religion, current events.

Much of what I read fascinated me, filling in holes I had missed from my perspective of the city, but in the end, I found no new answers to our essence problem. No cleverly disguised bit of information or misunderstood phenomenon. Enough time had passed; I had to go find Odd-girl at her house again. But first, I took a quick detour to look at the musical instruments. Maybe once things were normal, I would buy a piano for the apartment. It had been a long time since I last played. My time would be my own. Why shouldn’t I take it up again?

I walked into the room and stopped in my tracks. There was the girl. She was talking to one of the store’s employees. I was out of human hearing range, but that didn’t stop me. I focused on the conversations.

“No, as in an actual Iroquois water drums.”

“Water drum?”

“Yes, you know, kind of like a normal Native drum, but you can fill it with water and get different sounds?”

The man looked pensive. He stroked his stubbly chin, obviously wanting to please the girl with a favorable answer. She seemed unimpressed.

“I have something that might help you. It is not exactly what you’re looking for but … well, I’ll let you be the judge by yourself,” he said.

“O-kay … ” She shrugged.

“I’ll be right back.” He walked out of the room.