The Lie Spinners (The Deception Dance) (22 page)

It’s
false. It has to be. I stand in the bathroom regaining my breath,
each moment deciding more and more that the vision was just another
manipulation, nothing more.

I
comb fingers through wet hair, and pick up my baseball cap which I
must have dropped on the floor. Though no mirrors hang in the
bathroom I do my best to fix up my appearance (not much can be done
for my wet, dirty, bloody shirt). I glance around the little train
bathroom taking it in for the first time, and I blink at what I see.
The toilet, or what I can only assume is a toilet, is the strangest
toilet I’ve ever seen. It’s just a low metal hole with
what looks like ridged wings to either side. Above the toilet perches
a hose. Thank God I’m almost dehydrated and don’t have to
pee because I don’t have the faintest idea how to do it.

When
the door I’m leaning on rattles with three loud banging sounds
I jump.

“
Someone
in there?” A female voice calls out from the other side.

I
hastily open the door and step out holding the door open for a girl
about my age. I retrace my path down the train, this time unnoticed
until I reach my sister.

I
climb over the bags to sit back into my seat, and start to apologize,
“Sorry I—“

“
Say
no more,” Amy or Sandra, the blonde on the right, whatever her
name, interrupts me with a wave of her hand, “We saw you run to
the loo.”

“
The
trick is,” blonde on the left says, leaning in and patting my
knee, “you have to make sure to order your drink with no ice,
drink nothing blended and brush your teeth with bottled water.”

“
Oh,
and make sure the bottled water’s seal is in place,” adds
the blonde on the right.

“
Thanks,”
I say, trying on a smile.

“
Want
me to go get you some water?” Linnie says sweetly.

“
No,
I…” I clear my throat, “I should walk around.”
Even though I just sat, my legs tingle with the need to move. I sling
my backpack over my shoulder and stand back up. “Do you know
which way to the food car?” I ask the blondes with a rusty
voice.

They
point.

“
Did
you know that people from New Zealand call themselves Kiwis?”
Linnie asks, before I can walk away, practically bouncing in her
chair in excitement; it’s as if she’s forgotten that (she
thinks) I’m sick. “Isn’t that cool?”

I
nod-shrug, not sure how to answer her contradictory questions, and
flee from her good mood as if I could catch it. Somehow, the idea of
being in a good mood after that vision turns my stomach.

The
long shifting hallway that sways back and forth as I walk from car to
car thankfully takes all my attention. When I find the food car, I
can’t stop; my restless legs take me all the way to the
entrance of the last train car, where I’m blocked by a group of
guys trying to coax a man who’s hanging out of the open
train-door, smoking a cigarette, back into the train. The entire
group reeks of alcohol, and the guy seems determined to win a Darwin
Award.

I
look behind, but that direction looks even less enticing. So I wait.
A big-jock-looking guy snatches back his Darwin Award contestant
friend just in time as a pole whizzes by, inches from the train.

“
Holy
shit!” they all yell. The group hurries the guy away, clapping
him on the back, as if he’s some-type of a hero for surviving
his own stupidity.

I
let them pass, pulling my hat’s brim low, determined not to
make eye contact. When I’m alone I step to the very edge of the
train’s open doorway, holding onto the bars on each side,
letting the world whistle by, just beyond my nose.

Echoes
of other people’s lives in the train cars on either side pass
by me, their words, shouts, laughs, all congealing into one single
sound, the sound of humanity. And I am separate.

Suddenly
a memory comes to me: last year, at the glamorous party Nicholas took
me to. We were all dancing, laughing, drinking, and I saw Stephen,
alone. I had thought it strange, that even though Stephen grew up
with these people, he was so clearly an outsider.

Now
I am the outsider.

My
choices: stay away and die, or go to Stephen and fall in love, either
way, I break my promise to Andras the gates of Hell will open; I’m
walking the plank of a burning ship, over shark infested waters, and
I’m losing my balance.

A
flash of movement makes me turn around just in time to see what must
be a three hundred pound giant, lunging for me with arms
outstretched. I dive to the side. Grabbing one of the bars and
kicking at the giants legs.

He
loses his balance, falling out of the open train door; but manages to
grab my backpack and a metal part of the outside of the train.

His
hand yanks at my backpack and the force threatens to pull my arms out
of their sockets. I more bellow than scream as I mule kick back at
him, but though the kicks connect with flesh they barely make him
grunt.

He
yanks again. I barley manage to hang on, all my joints from fingers
to shoulder scream with pain. I know that he’s about to fling
me off the train, and then he’ll just climb back in the train
car-door.

I
look back at him quickly, but only take in the image of the tattoo on
his wrist. Soul-bound. They’ve found me.

I
kick back, straight for his groin. The kick connects and he lets go
of my backpack for less than a second when I hear a loud thwack. I
turn and see a flash of color as another pole whizzes by, this one
with the soul-bound giant wrapped around it.

I
hurry away from the train door, ready for the next attack, but no one
lunges at me.

My
breath comes in short bursts as I glance around, but from what I can
tell, no one even noticed.

“
You
couldn’t blame me for trying, could you?” says a familiar
girlish voice from behind me.

I
spin and though I already know what I’m going to find, seeing
Chauncey still drains all warmth from my body.

“
You
all served up to me on a silver platter and all? All alone... Only a
gentle push away from what could have been a very painful death...”

“
Gentle?
Then why’d you use that giant?” I say, still panting. I
have no weapons, nothing but a couple cashews and some clothes.

“
I
can’t buy any souls while your heart beats, remember? A girl
uses the tools she has at her disposal. Well,” she looks me up
and down, “An intelligent one does. Anyhow, it’s not
that
important to me that you die now… I’m actually more
interested in watching how this little
expedition
pans out. I’m just not one to let such a fantastic opportunity
pass me by.” She pushes off the wall and walks toward the front
of the train.

“
So
you’re still stalking me?” I shout after her before she’s
gone too far. “And you know what? Everything?”

“
Well
I’m sure that I don’t know
everything;
but I’d bet my new shoes that I know more than you do,”
She says back, not bothering to turn around.

As
much as I’d like to see the last of that …thing, I
follow Chauncey toward the front of the train, needing to check on
Linnie.

Chauncey
has on high heels, a short skirt and a ‘nothing-there’
shirt. Every guy, and I mean every single one, watches her pass. I
wonder if they’d even care that she’s truly a puppeteer,
a demon possessing a dead girl’s body. I wonder if they’d
care that the dead girl’s soul now burns in Hell, traded, to
make that face and body so perfect.

God,
I’m cynical. And, yet again, seriously stupid. I did just hand
myself over on a platter. What’s wrong with me?

When
we enter our train car, Chauncey passes without Linnie even noticing
her possessed ex-best friend. Thank God!

I
crawl over the bags again and take my seat, determined to eat, sleep,
and wise up before we get there.

Day
Five

“
Of
all the places in the world, I am so glad the demons picked
Thailand!” Linnie says as she smiles around at the small harbor
that juts into an almost-clear azure ocean.

Inhaling
the warm breeze and mixed scents of mango and flowers and ocean, I
kind-of agree with my sister’s very awkward statement. After
what felt like a full day, a train station, bus and a three hour
ferry later, we’re standing at the harbor in one of the most
beautiful places I’ve ever seen. White sand. Ferries and
fishing boats. Lush green cliffs on all sides. And this is just the
harbor.

“
I
wish we were here for any other reason,” I say. What I don’t
say is that I’m pretty sure the reasons the demons sent me here
was: to fall in love with and then kill Stephen. It was good that the
journey took that long, enough time for me to think; that vision may
or may not happen, okay. But, say I have a choice in the matter, that
is one possible outcome, sure, I could fall in love with him; but I
might have the opportunity to just take him to Madeline and be done
with it. Walk away. Ta-da! Done.

And
the more hours of travel the more certain I was that the future
cannot be this fixed thing, this stationary path; and the more
determined I was to just complete my task and walk away. And if the
idea hurt a little, that was just the idiotic little girl part of me
that still believed that I deserved to fall in love-no matter the
cost.

Old
pick–ups, whose beds have been converted by the addition of
benches and roofs, line up in front of the crowd of tourists; as if
they all know exactly what to do, backpackers start piling in.

“
Come
with us,” One of the kiwi blondes says to my sister. “You
don’t know where you’re staying and our hostel will be
just down the way from where all the pubs are, Haad Rin Beach.”

“…
and
they make a brilliant brekkie, we’ll get you some even though
it’s nearly time to piss-up.” The other blonde kiwi says.

Linnie
grabs my arm smiling, obviously amused by her new “besties”.

“
Sure,”
I say, because I want to be wherever the beach pubs are. And,
unfortunately, unless my quick Stephen-extraction theory works, I’m
pretty sure we’ll need to get a room, as, the girls informed
us, the full moon isn’t for another
week
.

After
we also pile in, our little pick-up climbs the narrow and windy road.
Oh, the view! I sit next to the opening in the back, watching as we
pass oceanic limestone cliffs on all sides.

“
Don’t
fall out,” Linnie says, grabbing me, as we go up a particularly
steep hill. I glance over at her and consider telling her about the
train doorway and the giant, and Chauncey, but Linnie smiles so
happily now...

“
What?”
She says.

“
Nothing,
I’m just glad you’re here,” I lie.

She
squeezes me. “I’m going to swim in the ocean,” she
says, her feet tapping in an excited rhythm.

I
clear my throat and add, “And I’m going to finally eat
some curry.”

“
I’d
eat almost anything at this point,” she says as she rests her
head awkwardly on my much taller shoulder.

The
hostel,
the truck takes us to, is not like anything I would call a hostel;
it’s a luxury hotel filled with belligerent college-age kids.
We rent out a bungalow directly on the white sand with a beach view,
for the equivalent of eleven dollars a night. Best thing about our
little room is that we have a non-scary toilet, especially since I’d
been holding it for two hours.