Sleight (5 page)

“And…her name was Desdemona,” Henry said, a playful smile on his face.

“Nope. Sarah.”

“Oh. Wel, maybe Othelo was mad that your uncle didn’t name her Desdemona.”

“Marlene, my aunt, named Sarah after an unruly relative. Poor thing came to us from a crappy zoo—”

“The unruly relative, or the lion?” He was messing with me.

“The lion.” I smirked at him. “Sarah came to us with an attitude, even though she was stil very young. Once Othelo and Sarah were introduced, he totaly fel for her. But we also had two tigers in the show, and when the female, Hera, came into heat, it drove Othelo mental. He wouldn’t leave Sarah alone, so they were separated.

When Hera was out of season, the two lions were gradualy reintroduced in the show, but one night, Othelo snapped and went after Sarah. She died a few days later.”

“Geeze, that sucks.” Henry picked up bits of dressing-soaked lettuce and organized them into a smiley face on his plate.

“Even worse were the injuries my Uncle Irwin sustained. He almost died from being in the wrong lion enclosure at the wrong time.”

“Oh, my God, he lived?”

“Yeah, the other handlers were super-vigilant guys, and they had Othelo tranked before he could finish Irwin off. But before that, Othelo got Irwin across the face. Trashed it. Took one of his eyes, half of his nose, most of the skin on one side, and a bunch of his teeth as a party favor.”

“Holy shit, are you serious? Did you see this happen?” he asked, incredulous.

“I was only a baby, so I’m relaying the story secondhand. I’ve heard it a few dozen times, though. It gets more fantastic with every teling.”

“Unbelievable…wow…that’s wicked.” Henry’s eyes were locked on mine as I told him about Othelo and Irwin. It felt nice to have a different face to look at, a new set of ears to hear my tired stories.

“But you said Othelo is stil with the circus. Isn’t that, like, crazy dangerous?”

“Irwin has a huge heart, and he loves his creatures. Especialy Othelo. There’s no way Irwin would let the vets put him down. His animals are like his kids.”

“You gotta hand it to the guy. Brave,” he said. “I’l look forward to meeting him tonight.” Henry took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. And such nice hair it was. “I’m curious. What happens to a lion’s body when it dies? I mean, it’s not like a goldfish. You can’t just flush it down the toilet.”

“Wel, it was an amazing thing, you know, the many ways our chef found to prepare lion meat.”

Henry nearly choked on the mouthful of water he’d just sipped.

“No,” I giggled. “We buried her. Had a real service and everything after Irwin was released from the hospital.” The clamor in the lunchroom was deafening, bodies crammed around tables, plates and silverware clinking and rattling, but for the first time al day, I’d forgotten al about being the new girl, that I was an orphan, that I was supposed to be pouting about school, depressed about my mom. In Henry’s laidback presence, I felt comfortable, almost at ease. Being around him was a huge breath of fresh air. It was sort of awesome.

Another bel, another class. The trance was broken. Henry rose to his feet and dropped our lunch mess on the stacked trays.

“What do you have next?” he said.

“Uh,” I puled out my schedule. “Cooking.”

“Ohhh, Ms. Garces. Don’t spil anything. She’s a tyrant.” Great.

Burst of confidence coming my way. “Do you want me to walk you there?”

“No, I think I can find it. It’s right down from the photo lab, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, like three doors down. Just folow the smel of burning flesh. That’s Ms. Garces’ classroom,” he said. My eyes widened.

“Kidding,” he said. “I’m just down the hal in anthropology, so wait for me after cooking. There’s no sixth period today because of the pep assembly, but it’s a raging sea of humanity at these things, so you’l want cover.”

“Deal.” I smiled at him, appreciative of his offer to ease me into the Hal of Horrors otherwise known as the gymnasium. “See you in fifty-five minutes.” Henry winked and exited the lunchroom alone, stopping only to deposit our plates in the kitchen drop-off window and melt the hearts of the girls standing on the receiving side. His shade reappeared, turning her head to me and offering a wave as she trailed Henry out the door.

I wondered how Henry would feel if he knew he had the ghost of a dead woman folowing him around the school.

It was far too soon to find out.

:6:

Torture is torture and humiliation is humiliation only when you choose to suffer.

—Chuck Palahniuk

The cooking teacher was a tiny crazed woman with a spatula and a mean streak. I couldn’t get out of her classroom fast enough, afraid she’d bean me in the head with a green pepper like she did to the kid at the station next to mine.

As agreed, I lingered against the lockers after class and waited for Henry. And just as he’d promised, he showed up to finish off his buddy duties for the strange American tradition of packing hundreds of wound-up teenagers into a gymnasium for the sole purpose of pushing their frenzy into the red zone. Though I’d never seen a pep assembly in real life, I quickly learned that the mascot and cheerleaders weren’t much different from Ted and the clowns getting the crowd going before a show.

“Hey, you getting a head start on your cooking homework?” Henry said.

“No,” I looked down at my Foods and You text. “Couldn’t get my locker open, so I had to bring it with,” I said, feeling lame for not being able to get the stupid combination right.

The raw energy radiating from the 10x10 gym doors almost knocked me over, the bleachers loaded to the rafters with students and teachers. As we filed in, Henry must’ve sensed my hesitation as he muttered into my ear. “Don’t worry, Gemma. They won’t bite.” While I was accustomed to noisy, excited crowds, my circus duties were mainly carried out behind the scenes. I didn’t have to face the audience, and I liked my anonymity. Walking into the gym was excruciating as so many strangers looked in my direction, absorbed my every move, took note of Henry’s close proximity to me, catalogued my attire.

“Gemma! Gemma! Over here!” I heard Junie’s voice above the roar, though just barely. Henry pointed in her direction, Junie’s tiny frame perched on the very edge of the front row, waving like a madwoman to catch my attention. She’d saved me a seat, though there was only space for one body between her and the kid to her right.

We walked toward her and as soon as she put her arm down, satisfied that I’d seen her, I noticed that Ash was seated on her left.

“Hey!” Junie swalowed me in one of her famous spazz hugs.

“Who’s this?”

“Junie, this is Henry Dmitri. Henry, Junie,” I said.

Junie gave her flirtiest smile before surveying the limited space on the bleacher. “I didn’t know you’d stil have your buddy with you, so I only saved one spot,” she yeled. Junie turned so only I could see her face as she mouthed the word hot.

Without missing a beat, Henry gestured toward the floor. “No problem. I’l sit here in front of Gemma.”

“This is my brother Ash.” Junie gestured toward her twin. Henry gave Ash a polite wave; Ash looked right past him.

“Don’t be such a jerk, Ash.” He ignored her scolding.

The din bounced off every corner of the elevated ceilings, and it was impossible to hear oneself think, never mind talk. Junie planted herself on the bench and gave her brooding brother a jab in the ribs.

Once we were seated, she pressed her face close to the side of my head, her breath tickling my ear. “Is that the Henry Dmitri, as in Lucian Dmitri’s son?” she whispered.

I nodded, trying to be inconspicuous, but Junie grabbed my wrist and forced me to give her a high five. Wow, Joon. Way to be subtle.

The school band wailed on their instruments, pummeling the life out of the Eaglefern High fight song. I was sure my ears would bleed before the hour ended.

Ms. Spitzer and the principal (I recognized him from his photo in the main office) folowed a nerdy kid who pushed a wheeled podium to center court. Another student, a chubby, acne-riddled girl, waddled out to the podium to hook a microphone into the podium clip. Ms. Spitzer gave the mic a few good taps, and a wave of feedback screeched through the space. The students protested in unison.

“Oops! Sorry about that,” she said. “Welcome, Explorers, to the kick-off assembly for spring semester!” she holered into the microphone, her voice a squeak above the band’s musical massacre.

Ms. Spitzer raised her arm and as she did, teachers and staff folowed suit and students began shushing each other. Within a half-dozen seconds, the gym was quiet, though the sudden silence did little to undo the ringing in my ears.

“Thank you, everyone. Thank you to our band for such a, uh, noble effort!” The crowd booed and hissed. I was immediately glad Marlene hadn’t won the argument about me joining the school’s orchestra.

“Settle down, people, okay, thank you.” She paused for a moment while the students calmed. “Before we get started, I’d like to take a moment to introduce some wonderful, talented new members to the Eaglefern family…” Ms. Spitzer’s voice faded upon realizing what she was about to do. Please…not us…please don’t say it.

“Let’s have al the new students from the Cinzio Traveling Players Company stand up so we can welcome you to Eaglefern High School!” Oh, my sweet Lord. She did it. I felt like I might vomit.

Junie, who never missed an opportunity to grab the spotlight, hooked her arm in mine and hoisted me to my feet, waving her free arm at the crowd. The other circus kids, except Ash who remained sulen and hunched over, raised their arms as if waiting to be caled upon in class. The reception from the student body was lukewarm, and from the far side of the gym, someone yeled, “Marry me, Red!

Have my ginger babies!” Laughs and claps throughout. I was the only redhead in our crew. When we got home, Junie was going to die a slow, torturous death.

I kept my head down and alowed my hair to conceal the searing blush of my cheeks and earlobes. My heart pounded behind my eyes, my neck on fire. Even my fingers tingled with the super-heated blood of embarrassment. I felt a hand on my ankle and my eyes shifted to see what or who was touching me. Henry was looking up at my face, his own face awash in sympathy. But from his hand, a wave of cool calm washed up my calf. He winked at me, and as I had earlier in the lunchroom, I felt a sense of ease. In the ten seconds that he held on, an unfamiliar tide of warmth, peace, washed over me. My breathing regulated, my heart rate steadied.

As soon as Henry let go, however, the anger toward Junie, and at Spitzer for caling us out, surged through me. I found myself wishing Henry would touch me again so I could feel more of whatever it was that had just calmed my simmer.

It was as though Junie had been involved in this school crap her entire life. Her knees hadn’t stopped bouncing since we’d sat, and judging by the grin on her face, she was having a fantastic time. Her life revolved around risk, big risk. She was a trapeze artist from a distinguished lineage of the same, with a few wire walkers thrown in to keep the bloodline varied. For Junie’s family, flying through the air on nothing but a bar and a prayer wasn’t something they chose to do, not like a person chooses to take up plumbing or study medicine. The circus life, and more specificaly, the trapeze, was heritage, ethnicity, and religion al roled into one pork-and-potato-filed dumpling.

For Junie, walking into a new school and being put on display was a day at the park. With baloons and ice cream. So once we were seated again and the staff had taken over with boring announcements, I resolved to let her live. It was Junie. She epitomized happy.

When the principal finaly excused the student body half an hour later, the hordes made their way toward the double-door exits on the east side of the gymnasium. Ash had melted into the crowd before I was able to ask him how things were going. Junie nudged me and with a quick “meet me out front,” she, too, was off, eager to catch up with some unknown person in the herd. Of course…first day in and Junie’s got herself a friend.

Henry lingered a bit, waiting for the crush of humans to squeeze its way through the doors. I stood nearby, not interested in subjecting myself to squished toes or bruised ribs by students pushing to escape.

“So, what’d ya think?” he said, a sly smile punching a dimple in his cheek.

“I feel indoctrinated. Aunt Marlene wil be thriled to hear that I had my first authentic high school social experience.” He chuckled.

“Are the assemblies always this loud?”

“Pretty much. You should’ve been here when the footbal team won the state championship a few years ago. They had the police on standby.”

“I can only imagine.” When we were among the last leaving the gym, I suddenly felt awkward, somehow disappointed, that the day was coming to a rapid conclusion, a stark contrast to how I’d expected to feel at the end of my first day.

I stopped in front of locker 451 and fumbled through my jacket pocket for the combination, but before I could put my hand on the dial, Henry puled the metal latch and the door opened.

Shocked, I looked up at him.

“How did you do that?” His eyes flashed a hint of embarrassment, as if he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Uh, it was my locker last year,” he said.

“Oh… Wait—you mean, they don’t change the combinations?” His answer, coupled with his knowledge of the three-digit combination, sort of weirded me out. It didn’t seem like a prudent security practice to not change locker combinations from year to year.

“Some lockers are overlooked,” Henry said, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’m not a snoop.”

“It’s cool. Just seems odd, I guess.” I stuffed the combination into the front pocket of my backpack. “Wel, thanks so much for the help today,” I said, feeling self-conscious. “I realy appreciate you giving up your day to be my tour guide, especialy since you got strong-armed into it.”

He laughed at my comment. “The pleasure was al mine.

Besides, it was sort of fun to sit with the circus freak with the fire-red hair who’s already fielding proposals of wedded bliss.” I swatted his arm with my free hand.