The Lie Spinners (The Deception Dance) (25 page)

I
only now notice the light gray half-circles under his eyes. The
bright afternoon sun casts light on his features and I realize his
face has changed since I last saw him, any remaining boyish
chubbiness that softened his features has long since deserted him;
his features are more angular. He’s not gaunt yet, or even
thin, but his lean-muscled body too has lost a little of its weight.

Stephen
concentrates on his cigarette then puts it out and collects his other
butt from the sand. He stands and looks straight into my eyes, soft
blue but demanding. “I’m sorry,” he says and from
the sincerity of his words I know he’s taking me very, very
seriously. He leans in close and lowers his voice to a very low
whisper, “I just can’t imagine a situation more serious
or important than the one I’m dealing with here.”

“
I
think it probably is, I need…you have to,” I whisper.
There’s this nasty sticky feeling coursing through me, like my
blood stream pumps tar all throughout my body.

“
I
can’t,” he says with finality.

“
Stephen,
what’s going on here? Who is the-” Stephen presses a
finger to my lips effectively stopping me from talking.

“
Don’t
say it, ever, please. And call me Nathan. I am Nathan, a medical
student from Norway on an extended vacation.”

Taking
his hand away, Stephen crouches down and leans in so his lips are
close to my ear. He probably doesn’t notice that there are only
centimeters separating his cheek from mine, probably doesn’t
care that there are molecules bouncing in that space, weaving those
centimeters into an invisible tapestry of oxygen and light and sound
between us.

Lowering
his voice to a volume almost inaudible, he says, “There is no
possible way that
you
being here, of all times, is a coincidence. You both need to leave
before whatever trap you’re in springs.”

I
want to shake my head and tell him:
but
Stephen, don’t you see, the trap has already sprung. You. You
were the trap they set for me. Snap.

I
don’t.

He
continues, “Tomorrow is the earliest ferry I can get you on.
You can take a plane from Surat Thani.”

“
I
can’t, not without you.” I sound capitol ‘P’
pathetic. I clear my throat before saying, “What is going on?
Is it…is it drugs, or something?”

“
Or
something,” he whispers. “You being here means that you
are already way more involved in this than I want you to be. My only
hope is that they haven’t figured out that you’re within
their grasp yet.”

“
Who
are
they
?”
I whisper back.

“
Do
not email or call any of our mutual friends while you are on this
island and please, whatever you do, don’t talk about who you
two are or who I am. Don’t even say any of our names. And, as a
favor to me, please, leave tomorrow, I’ve already purchased all
the tickets; they’ll be in your sister’s name. Now laugh
like I just said something shameless; someone is watching.”

I
do my best, but my attempt at shameless-flirtatious-laugh sounds more
like the off-key witch’s cackle from this Halloween decoration
we kept way past its lifespan. Sultry might forever be beyond my
grasp, next time I’ll just try for sane.

When
you know someone is watching you, it pretty much hurts not to look. I
concentrate on my sandals, pretending to be as embarrassed as
I…actually am. But the pain doesn’t last long.

A
lightly-accented female voice says, “Nathan?”

I
look up, just in time to see Stephen physically relax. He exhales and
smiles back at a gorgeous young woman. She’s tall for a Thai
woman, thin in a way I could never imagine being, or really want to
be. Her features look almost unreal, like, if you dropped a stack of
high-end fashion magazines she’s what would fall out. Her
clothes look very proper for this heat and hostel, full length button
up shirt and light colored slacks. Her dignity gets knocked out of
her, literally, when Stephen swings an arm around her and she half
falls into him. They hug like he and Linnie hug, like friends.

…
like
he hugs me.

“
May-May,
I am very glad it’s you watching me and not some scorned female
stalker.” Stephen says as if he couldn’t much care.

This
girl, May-May, laughs and nudges Stephen off her. “I just want
to make sure you did not forget to come tonight because you found
better company,” She smiles at us after saying this, her hair
and clothing have already fallen back to perfect. “Nice to meet
you, my name is
Mæ̀m̀āy
,
or just May.”

“
Nice
to meet you, May,” I say accepting her dainty hand for a
handshake, “I’m—”

“
Wait,”
Stephen interrupts in a nonchalant tone as he extracts another
cigarette from his pocket. “Let me do it, your name is Chelsea,
yes?” he says pointing his cigarette at Linnie. Then he points
it at me, “And… you are… Agnes?”

Agnes?
Really?

“
Amanda,”
I say, not hiding my annoyance.

“
Well,”
Stephen says, hiding a yawn behind his cigarette, “Stay
beautiful ladies, I’ll come back for you if I can.”

May
shakes her head and tugs on Stephen’s arm. “Come now,
Nathan, before you melt these girls with your
charm
.”
She gives us a knowing smile. “It was nice to meet you Chelsea
and Amanda.”

“
Nice
to meet you,” Linnie and I say, simultaneously.

“
She
seemed surprisingly nice,” Linnie says when we can no longer
see the pair. “I was all ready to be scared.”

“
Yeah,”
I say, “I wonder if she’s nice enough to help us kidnap…
Nathan.”

“
Kind of a
hard subject to bring up while you’re introducing yourself to
someone:
nice
to meet you, how about you grab his legs, I’ll get his arms and
my sister will gag him,
”
Linnie says.

“
You’re
right. Bad idea,” I say, sighing. “We’re screwed.”

Linnie
gives me a straight-lipped smile, “Yep, pretty much.”

“
And
I’m too tired to think straight,” I admit.

I
walk into the bungalow, lie down, pass out.

Stephen
lies on my bungalow’s bed, his face beaten almost past
recognition.

My
body stays crumpled in the same position, sitting against the bed,
head in hands. Mid suffering the discovery that I’m in love
with Stephen, that feeling of wrongness clutches me again; I feel
like I’m biting into an apple I didn’t know is half
rotten. I’m almost sure that some danger I can’t see is
closing in on us, about to reveal itself.

I
sit up, and look at Stephen; there’s no question about it, he’s
too injured to leave even the bed. But I know that there is something
very wrong…

****

Arm
giving its now-usual sear, I wake up as someone sits on my legs.
Immediately I know it’s Linnie; it’s a time honored
tradition of ours: she wakes me up restraining my legs, I have to
hear whatever she wants to tell me. The fact that we weigh almost the
same poundage, even though Linnie is about five inches shorter than
me, plays to her advantage in a very unfair way.

“
So
I thought about what happened with Nathan all afternoon and evening.
By the way, it is night now, just so you know…” she
points to the dark window. “Anyway, I think Nathan is right, we
should leave first thing tomorrow. We’re on our own here; and
from what you told me that he whispered to you, it sounds like we
can’t even call for help unless we leave. If we got off the
island, we can call Madeline
to
him—and be done with it all.”

Opening
my bleary eyes, I focus on my sister. So rarely does she make this
kind of ‘voice of reason’ sense.

She
continues, “Obviously, you’re in some serious danger
here; from what Ste—Nathan was saying, this might just all be a
set up.”

“
I’m
sure it is,” I say.

Encouraged
by my comment, Linnie climbs off my legs and lies down beside me. “If
you’re in danger, everyone is in danger. I just feel like we’re
being irresponsible with our responsibilities.” It was nice of
her to add a ‘we’ to that, but the truth is I’m
being irresponsible with
my
very big responsibility.

And
she’s right.

But…at
the same time, there is something so wrong about the situation
Stephen is in. I almost feel like if we walk away now, Stephen will
get that beating I saw in my dream-vision and I won’t be there
to make sure he survives it. Then there’s that wrongness I keep
feeling in my visions, whatever causes it might find him when he’s
weak and defenseless.

And
the truth is: he dies, I die, millions die.

And
my first priority is, has to be, making sure that he and I survive
whatever mess he’s in. Which means: not only do I have to stay,
I have to figure out what the hell is going on here and who (or what)
this Spider is. Survive, and then get Stephen out.

But
I know my sister when she makes this kind of logical sense; it’s
very hard to convince her to ignore the rightness of her argument. I
decide that it is now time to pull out my ace in the hole.

“
Linnie,”
I say, “I haven’t told you what it meant when Madeline
called in my life-debt yet…” By the time I finish
explaining what exactly will happen to me if I don’t fulfill
the terms Madeline tasked me with, Linnie is bawling.

And…I
feel like the vilest being on the face of this planet, seriously
malaria spreading mosquitos have nothing on me.

Because
the sound of her crying makes me want to tear off my own ears, I grab
a change of clothes and head to the bathroom, undress and climb into
the shower.

As
the water pelts down, words surface up within me:
have
you ever closed your eyes and delved within, looked inside, and seen
the blackness there? The void? The deep, deep darkness? You can
laugh, joke, make light… pretend to be one of them… but
somewhere inside, you are certain there is something very wrong with
you.

I
quash the voice by telling it:
I’m
only doing what I have to do to make sure that the Gates of Hell
don’t open. Greater good. Period.

But
then more remembered words rebut:
the
first rule to understanding demons is: to them, the means are
inconsequential, only the ends matter
.

Basically,
my conscience
hates
me.

When I’m
almost sure Linnie has (to have) stopped weeping, I climb out of a
now-cold shower. Cold is not a complaint, even though it’s
probably eight or nine at night, it’s still hot and humid.

As
I’d hoped, when I exit the bathroom after dressing, Linnie has
passed ‘weepy’ straight to ‘righteous fury’.

“
God!”
Linnie says, more of an exasperated cry than an invocation for help.

I
don’t think God is listening, anyway. Not to us.

She
turns to me; her teeth gritted and hands’ clenched into fists;
she says in a shrill voice, “I
hate
Madeline! As I see it, she’s either turned evil or set you up
to fail on purpose or she’s the most selfish idiot in the
history of the world. There is no doubt in my mind that
Nathan
would go with us if he knew that you’re going to die if he
doesn’t, but we can’t even tell him!” She starts
pacing and I can see tears forming in her eyes again when she adds,
“Stephen said that we can’t even call for her to come
here… or even for help!”

“
Nathan,”
I whisper. “And… there is one person we can call for
help, but we shouldn’t. Hear me out…” I carefully
pull my watch out of where I stuffed it into my backpack and hold it
out. “If you flip up the face and press the button there, it
calls Albert.”