Signal to Noise (32 page)

The phone seemed to pulsate between his hands, like a heart. Sebastian squeezed it, tried to find purchase on its surface, slick with his sweat.

Meche...

He needed her now. There. If she answered now, this might be forgiven. But she wasn’t answering. She was hiding from him.

He could see her in his mind, savouring her victory, her eyes indifferent to his pain. Indifferent to him.

He hung up and hung his head while Romualdo brought him another cushion and yelled and ranted.

M
ECHE WOKE UP
feeling very cold, her eyes fluttering open. She had a vague, unpleasant sensation, like the one you might get when you crush an insect and rub your palm against your trousers, trying to wipe it away.

She thought of the hex she had cast with Daniela and for the first time that night seriously wondered if Sebastian was alright. The hospital’s clock read one a.m. and she considered, for a few seconds, daring to phone Sebastian.

Then she feared what he would say if she did phone and woke him up. His anger would still be so raw.

Even worse, she feared if he did not answer. What if she had really hurt him? What if he did not lift the phone and speak? What would she do then?

Meche took off her jacket and rolled it into a makeshift pillow, laying down on the plastic hospital chairs, staring at the white walls of the hallway.

She knew herself—wicked and cruel, the way true witches are, as in the stories grandmother told her. She knew herself and curled up into a tight ball, flipping on the Walkman and listening to Starship sing We Built This City, which was corny and sappy. But she needed corny and sappy.

“I’m going to make it all better,” she promised herself. “I can fix this.”

D
ANIELA HEARD IT
from Catalina Coronado, who was faster than a telex: Sebastian Soto had an accident, ended up at the hospital and was sent home with a cast. She asked her sister to drive her to his apartment, a box of chocolates on her lap. Romualdo opened the door and let her in. Daniela shuffled her feet and bent her head as she walked inside.

“Hi, Sebastian.”

“Hi,” he said.

He was sitting in the living room, wrapped in a blanket, watching television. She noticed the cast on his left hand and the bruises on his face, blooming an ugly purple.

Daniela handed him the chocolates.

“Thanks,” he said, placing them at his side.

“How are you feeling?”

“Eh. Between this and the beating I’m developing a higher threshold for pain.”

“You know we did it, right?”

“I figured as much.”

Daniela placed her hands behind her back and stared at the scratched wooden floor.

“I’m sorry,” Daniela said.

Sebastian pressed the mute button on the TV remote. He sighed.

“Where is Meche?”

“I’m not sure.”

Sebastian drummed his fingers against the couch’s arm and shook his head. He did not look good and Daniela could tell it was not just as a result of the accident.

“Well, she has talent,” he muttered. “I could feel her hands over mine as the motorcycle swerved left and right.”

“Yeah, she has loads of talent. That’s probably not a good thing.”

Sebastian did not say anything. He was looking at the numbers on the remote control, rubbing a thumb across the buttons.

“She scared me. When we cast that spell on you... my God, there is something dark inside her. Magic only makes that darkness stronger.”

“What are you saying?”

“You know.”

Sebastian put the remote on top of the box of chocolates and knitted his long fingers together, flexing them slowly.

“She’s the real witch among us,” he said. “Meche doesn’t need a circle. At least, not for long. Whatever it is you’re supposed to have, she has it.”

Daniela had known it for a while. They were backup singers to the real star. Hearing Sebastian say it, however, made it tangible.

“That’s it. That’s what frightens me.”

“You shouldn’t be frightened. Meche is not mad at you.”

“But you? What if—”

“I have her object of power. Besides, I don’t think she would hurt me once more.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s Meche and Meche I know.”

Daniela did not think that was quite enough, but what else could she say? She brushed the hair from her face. Her lips trembled a little as she spoke.

“I am so sorry, Sebastian. I really am. I helped do this to you.”

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be fine.”

She hugged him and Sebastian patted her back.

M
ECHE AND HER
mother were sitting in the kitchen, eating in silence. Meche dipped her animal crackers in milk while her mother sipped her coffee.

“Your grandmother is going to have to go to Monterrey,” her mother said, all of a sudden.

“Since when?” Meche asked.

This was the first she had heard of this. Had she missed some important family meeting or was she supposed to divine tea leaves in order to be up to date? Really, what the hell.

“I talked to your aunt about it. We had a long conversation. Your grandmother is going to need a lot of care.”

“She could get better.”

“She had a stroke,” her mother said. “She can’t walk and she can’t talk. She can barely eat mush.”

“I noticed,” Meche said dryly.

“Your aunt is a nurse. Plus, she has more money than we do. A bigger place. Your grandmother needs more care than I can give her.”

“You’re just going to pack her off ’cause she’s sick.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Don’t I get a vote in this?”

Her mother did not reply. She looked at her coffee cup, long nails tapping the ceramic mug.

“Awesome,” Meche said, pushing her chair back and scraping the floor in the process.

“I
NEED TO
talk to you,” Meche said, cornering her outside the bathroom stalls.

Daniela had been evading her all day long. A clumsy effort at best because Daniela did not know the meaning of subtle. She waddled through school like a great, big goose, a panicked look on her face.

“I don’t want to talk,” Daniela whispered.

“Listen: I need your help.”

“To do what?”

“My grandmother had a stroke. She’s not well. I want to heal her. I think we might need Sebastian for this.”

Daniela moved towards the sinks, slowly opening a faucet and rubbing her hands with liquid soap.

“Sebastian is at home, resting. He’s in a cast. I don’t think he’d be up for it and frankly I don’t think he’ll be talking to you until you do some serious apologizing.”

“Apologize?” Meche scoffed.

“Didn’t you hear me? He’s in a cast.”

Daniela closed the faucet. The paper towel dispenser was empty, so she rubbed her hands against her skirt.

“I heard you fine. I’m not apologizing. He got what was coming to him.”

“Then don’t expect him to help you.”

Meche was tired, nervous and more than a little irritated. She squeezed Daniela’s arm and gave her a sharp, intense look.

“Convince him to help. Tell him to come by the factory and bring my Duncan Dhu record.”

“No way,” Daniela said. “I’ve done enough already. I won’t goad him into it.”

“I don’t care what you want,” Meche said. “He will be back in our circle, ready to offer his assistance or
you
will be the next one hexed.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Daniela said.

“Try me. I think you’ll find I’m becoming very good at this sort of thing.”

Daniela’s eyes went round and glassy like marbles. She was really scared. Meche felt bad for a few seconds. She shoved the feeling aside. She needed Sebastian and Daniela. At the very least, she wanted her damn record back. If it took a bit of pushing around, so be it.

Daniela wriggled free of her grasp and took a couple of steps back.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

“Today?” Meche asked.

“Today,” Daniela said.

“Remind him he still has something that belongs to me. He better bring it to the factory.”

S
EBASTIAN DID NOT
reply. He was staring at the big glass full of milk and chocolate powder, observing the beads of moisture rolling down the sides, trying not to think. Trying to ignore it.

“And then?” Daniela asked.

“I won’t help her.”

“She’ll hurt us,” Daniela muttered.

Sebastian did not want to believe it. Meche was many things, but would she really force them to obey her?

She could have killed you,
he thought.
She’s Meche but she’s also something else now
.

Sebastian sipped his milk. They sat in the darkened dining room and he listened to the clock tick, measuring the minutes.

“It’s time we did something about this magic circle,” he said. “But not what she expects.”

“What, then?”

“Tell her I’ll be at the factory Friday evening.”

“You’ll do what she wants?”

“No,” Sebastian said, shaking his head. “I won’t do anything of the sort.”

This day was supposed to come,
he thought. He remembered his vision of Meche heading towards an airplane. He’d
known
, long before, that he’d lose her, but he couldn’t escape this melody.

T
HE HOSPITAL SMELLED
like disinfectant. It wasn’t like the smell when grandma cleaned the clothes at home or washed the floors. It was more powerful and unpleasant. Then there was the cold. Meche had to keep her sweater buttoned up, otherwise her arms would get goosebump.

She didn’t like the hospital and she liked the hospital room even less. Grandma shared it with another two women and all that separated her from the next bed was a thin curtain. Meche had to sit very close to the bed in an uncomfortable, old chair.

“Do you know what I did today?” Meche asked and paused to wait for a reply even though her grandmother could not answer.

She had washed her grandmother’s hair in a little basin and was carefully combing it with a plastic, wide-tooth comb.

“I made
picadillo
. I didn’t boil the potatoes long enough so they were a little hard.”

Meche set the comb down and looked at her grandmother’s face.

“You’re going to get better,” she said, smiling. “That’s a promise.”

M
ECHE WAS RE-READING
their
grimoire
, pausing to scribble little annotations on the margin of the page. She checked her watch. They were late. Were they even coming? It would be a cruel joke to leave her waiting. But this might be Sebastian’s way of getting back at her.

Night was falling so she lit the candles around the room to keep herself distracted. Two dozen stubs of wax. She looked out the circular window and pressed her cheek against the glass.

With a sigh she struck another match and lit the rest of the candles on top of the coffee table.

The door opened. Daniela and Sebastian walked in, sweeping their flashlights in a wide arc. They dropped their backpacks by the door. When Sebastian moved into the light Meche felt her arrogant smile fade a bit. He had a cast on his hand, like Daniela said, and when he walked he limped a bit. There was a cut across his forehead.

He looked at her, eyes sharp and unpleasant.

She looked back, chin raised.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m here. Like you wanted.”

“Good.” Meche knelt down to open the portable record player.

“You needn’t bother, I’m not casting any spells with you.”

Meche raised her head and looked at him with a frown. She brushed the top of the record player with her right hand.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve come to tell you I’m done with your little circle.”

“So am I,” Daniela said.

Meche did not mean to laugh, but she did anyway. Their determined yet frightened expressions were just too hilarious.

“Oh come on,” she said. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes we do,” Daniela said.

“Did he put you up to this?” Meche asked, pointing at Sebastian.

“No. I’m tired of having you boss me around. This magic... this is not fun anymore. It’s nasty and I want to be done with it.”

“Do you want to be done with me, too?” she asked Sebastian.

He glanced away and shook his head, smiling at her. Why, yes, of course. Now he had Isadora.

“I can’t believe you,” he said. “I can’t believe your absolute selfishness.”

“My selfishness?” she asked. “I want to heal my grandmother. Is that selfish?”

“Everything is about you, Meche. This circle was never about us. We were just your assistants, here to help get what you wanted. You did not even ask what we wanted.”

“I asked what you wanted. And you have what you want, anyway,” Meche said, remembering the little dance with Isadora. “So now give me what I need.”

“Your circle is no more. You might as well get over it.”

“Is that so?” Meche said. She glanced at Sebastian, then at Daniela. “You really want to piss me off?”

“We are not afraid of you,” Sebastian said.

“Good,” Meche said. “Remember that later.”

She opened the record player and the needle pressed down on the record. It was Strange Days by The Doors. It had a certain kick to it, a certain pick-me-up that had electrified Meche the first time she had grabbed the record, tickling something inside her head.

She snapped her fingers and narrowed her eyes. She did not need them. A couple of losers to weigh her down. She could do this by herself. She’d show them magic.

Meche snapped her fingers again and the candle flames jumped up, grew brighter as though they were being fanned by an invisible hand.

“Bubble, bubble, hu?” she told Sebastian. “Circles are for weaklings.”

She snapped her fingers again and the light of the candles grew even brighter, imbuing everything with a golden glow. Daniela and Sebastian stared at her.

She’d started by casting spells alone and it seemed she would finish casting them by herself. They could both go to hell.

The song grew and so did her magic. Meche made the candles drip rivers of wax upon the floor, long white tendrils reaching towards Daniela and Sebastian.