A Portal to Leya (5 page)

@
heather
I remember reading some of it. I was the first one. She shared everything with
me. She never, ever mentioned you. Are you a troll?

Heather
NO!
LOL

THE
SAD HOUSE

Sad
houses do exist. I used to like looking at Leya’s house, knowing she was in
there. It was the last thing I saw before I went to bed and the first thing I’d
see before I got dressed. I remember it, vividly, how it was always brightly
lit. I could peek into the downstairs bay window and see bodies moving; the
television flashing; the tall dark stained book shelves; the Toulouse-Lautrec;
the gold framed mirror. No more. The blinds are drawn. The garage where Leya keeps
her bike is closed. I want to go in there, see it, touch it, hop on and ride
it. The house is dark ALL the time. I remember peering up into her bedroom and
I could look inside and see her moving, sitting at the computer. Sometimes, it
was just her shadow, the hint of her that made me feel safe. She used to yell
out the window at me. One time, I threw pebbles at her window and she yelled
down
what is this some damn movie.
I couldn’t believe she swore. It was
the one time she did. Now, the blinds are drawn. I keep looking, waiting, walk
by just to see if there’s any change. It’s eerie—a house stuck in Halloween:
three pumpkins are on the front stairs; a scarecrow and corn stalks are propped
up against the lamp post; a witch on a broom is nailed to the oak tree; tiny
ghosts dangle from the branches of the cherry tree. It’s just the way she left
it. It looks like the house is in mourning like it misses Leya too. The
negative charges, I imagine, are intense.

Lance

COMMENTS:

2cents
I disagree and you are headed down a dangerous path, dude. Meds, man. Get some quick.

anonymous
I
believe that inanimate objects have a spirit. You are not crazy in the least
bit, on this topic at least.

Susanne
So
sad. Yes, the house is dark and sad now. I drove by a few times. I can’t bring
myself to drive by there anymore. Have you thought of visiting? I bet they
would love to see you. Maybe we can both go together. I’m nervous. I’ve stayed
away. It feels too weird. Let me know.

Heather
I
could go with you. I want to help you, sweetie.

@heather
don’t ever call me that. In fact, leave me the hell alone.

CORAL
CASTLE

No word from Jake. Maybe he didn’t suspect me after
all. Maybe I blame myself. Maybe I’m paranoid. I can’t get a thought straight
in my head. Very few people understand me. But Leya called me eccentric. That’s
a nice way to refer to a loner-reject-maniac. Leya understood me, liked when I
talked about electromagnetic fields and buying a gauss meter.
Try not to
talk so much,
she would remind me.
And don’t mention the gauss meter.
 She always said it nicely. I hear her voice in my head. What if her voice
disappears? I couldn’t bear it. She gave me the Leya look or hit my arm and I
knew to shut up. I would do anything for Leya. She helped me so much. I keep
thinking, now what? I rarely talk. I’m afraid to talk. I don’t know how or what
to say anymore. But today, something strange happened. I surprised myself in
history class. I talked about my icon, Edward Leedskalnin. I’ve yet to meet
anyone who knows about him. He’s this guy from Latvia who tapped into an energy
field and carved a coral castle and discovered the mystery of Stonehedge and
the Egyptian pyramids and the secrets of the universe. I thought of him. It was
today, during class, Daglio went on about some war and how soldiers had
increased stamina to survive the elements. And out of nowhere, I felt a surge
inside me (maybe it was a Leya charge) and I didn’t even raise my hand. I
blurted out how Ed Leedskalnin had more than stamina than any soldier, how he
moved 120 tons of rock all by himself, how he worked at night so no one could
watch. “I think he was private or paranoid or maybe a bit of both,” I said.
Everyone stared at me. I could feel their eyes boring holes into me. I just
kept going: “He built the castle because Ed was engaged to be married to his
16-year old girlfriend in Latvia. But she changed her mind, so he never got
over it and he built the castle to honor her. People say he immortalized his
love in coral.” (Complete and utter quiet) “Ed said we studied positive
electricity but not enough of the negative. He theorized that positive streams
come from the North Pole individual magnets and negative streams from the South
Pole individual magnets.” The quiet was so powerful, so profound, so blatantly
pandemic you could have heard a staple hit the floor. No one cares. No one
cares about Ed the way Leya did. Not Mr. Daglio, not the students, not anyone.
I proved it. Leya was literally the only one that cared about Ed.
I think
he’s prophetic
. She said that. We were on the floor, counting change for a
movie. We were always scraping change. I was convinced I had $20.00. I was
wrong. It was only $14.53. I decided then, that very moment, that we were on
the same channel. I never said it though. Now I’m alone. I wish I had said it.
I wish I had said lots of things. So I’m saying them now. I’m blogging for Leya.
I hope she hears me.

BTW, after my blog, I was skimming some older
e-mails and found the one she wrote about Ed, the time she went to Miami and
visited his castle. It must be a sign. How could it be that I would find this
one email after talking about Ed? We are still on the same channel. I’m
convinced! I’m euphoric!!!!

Hi,
Lance!

I
miss you and wish you were here! OMG. You’ve got to come with us next time. It
was so cool being right in the spot where Edward Leedskalnin manipulated
gravity. I swear I could feel his energy. The rocks were so incredible! I can’t
imagine him lifting these by himself! I can’t even describe it. I had prickles
all over my skin. I felt this electrical charge right away when I walked into
the castle. No one believed me. You would understand, Lance. Only you would get
it. My parents looked at me all worried like I was losing it. I wish you were
here with me. The guide was obnoxious. He kept snorting and it was ruining the
moment. And when he talked it took him like 10 minutes to finish a sentence. He
seemed so distraught. Maybe the energy waves were too much for him. LOL. I took
lots of pics for you. We come home in a few days. Tell Francis I said HI! See
you soon. : ) love, P

COMMENTS

Susanne
I remember the pics. I should have been with her the night of the dance. Why
didn’t I insist on going with her? I was jealous that’s why. I wanted to be
with Neal. I always had this sick stupid crush on the jerk.

@susanne
it’s okay. She forgives you. Leya always forgave everyone.

FIRST
SNOW

The first snow of the
season…English, room 118—me, invisible, eyes fixed on the window; Moran’s voice
droning about parts of an essay; trivial compared Leya. She was my essay. Memory: 
It was last December: Francis is in Afghanistan. We build a snowman, tall, six
feet high.
I can’t believe how tall she is
she said. We use a carrot for
a nose and two Queen Olives for the eyes: “Queenie!” We are giddy, crazy,
circling Queenie like a Goddess. I tie my scarf around Queenie’s neck. Francis
calls from Afghanistan. She dances over to Dorrie, takes the phone from her.
Her eyes are bright. I remember that; how her eyes were always bright, full of
sunlight:
Hello? How are you? What’s it like there?
Then, it’s my turn.
I talk to him and tell him about the snow, ask about the weather in
Afghanistan. Dorrie takes the phone back, and I’m thinking about how his voice
sounded delayed when he talked, how I should have said I love you or I miss
you. I worry it could be the last time I ever hear his voice. After, we eat
jelly beans with turkey sandwiches; we sit on the cherry wood chairs in the
dining room where the bay window overlooks Queenie. Leya breaks the silence:
I
hope she’s not melted by tomorrow.

“I miss Francis,” I
admit. “I hope he doesn’t get hurt.”

I know…weird that he is
so far away in an actual war,
she says. I stare at
her. I would do that, stare at her and she never stared back. Most people stare
back. I was worried about Francis getting blown up. I never imagined it was Leya
that was in danger. I was busy worrying about Francis and never considered she
could get murdered. How is it that you can have energies saturated into one hub
and so easily, tune out, miss the other more important vibes? Maybe I could
have prevented it. I think I have survivor’s guilt. I’m the only one in the world
in a classroom of 25 kids. I’m watching the snow falling almost a year later
and thinking how weird that this same snow fell on us, in that one moment. And
Moran keeps talking about a thesis statement, how all the parts have to relate
to the whole: “The essay can’t stand on its own. It needs the framework; it
needs the thesis to hold it up.” She was my thesis. She was my framework. I’m
dissolving. The snow falls fast, hits the ground and sticks. I’m falling, too,
inside Charles Pond High, in room 118 and three hours later, in my bedroom,
typing on this computer, I’m still falling. I think I will dissolve and
disappear and that will be okay. Then, at least, I can be closer to where she
is. Let me dissolve. Let me go.

Lance

COMMENTS

Heather
I don’t want you to dissolve. You are too important!!!

2cents
A
few too many deployments and a leg injury and now I’m out. No chanting Queenie or
jubilation where he is I’m sorry to report.

@2cents
you make my problems seem trivial. Thank you for your service.

2cents
Honor was mine. Stand tall. Keep it real, dude.

BEN’S
WINK

Happy
Thanksgiving @ all. I’m not happy. Leya’s gone. I’m not thankful. I was
standing in the kitchen noticing that nothing was happening when Benny boy and
Dorrie burst through the kitchen door. They were breathless, sweaty, hanging
onto each other. It’s all so gross. “Oh Lance, you should come for a run next
time. So warm this year. It’s an amazing rush.” Great, I told her. They keep
asking me to run with them. I keep saying no. Honestly, I don’t trust myself
and think I might jump in front of a car. I don’t say this. Dorrie just stares
at me, waiting. I think she can read my mind. I expected to smell a turkey
cooking and ground celery and onions and giblets simmering. Instead, it was ice
and fruit in a blender and talk about going out to eat on Thanksgiving
(imagine?) and I was mad that they could be so happy so I said “That smells
gross. Is the fruit rotten?” They just stood there, both of them, like
coconspirators, staring me down. Dorrie smiled at me, smugly, and then went
upstairs to take a shower, glass in hand. I wondered why she would carry the
glass upstairs. She doesn’t make any sense at all. Ben sat right down next to
me. Part of me was angry that he did. But he’s like that. He always makes time
for me, always goes that extra mile. I don’t think I could ever be that
selfless. In fact, I don’t deserve someone like Ben. So, Benny boy sat there,
waiting. It was awkward. So I brought up perjury, if a person has information
that could change the outcome of a murder case, do they have to tell. He said,
yes. “What if they don’t tell?” I asked. “They could be charged with
obstructing justice and could do time in prison or pay a fine,
”
he said.
He
looked at me suspiciously (no surprise) and made me EXTREMELY
nervous and I started to heat up, felt my face burn. I made up some excuse
about needing to talk to Trudy Markus. I said she knew Leya and wanted to tell
me something. He asked if it might be something about the case. I can’t lie. I
don’t know why. It’s some defect built into my system. I said yes. He told me
to let him know right away what happens. I told him I think she has important
information.

“Let
me know right away, Lance, okay?”

“Okay.
I will,” I told him. Then he sat there staring at me some more and it was
awkward again. I decided to change the subject: “Do you think we will go out to
eat for Thanksgiving?”

“I
think so. Does that sound okay to you?”

“We’ve
never done that.”

“First
time for everything…that’s okay, right?

“I
suppose.” Then Benny boy winked. The guy likes to wink. I’ll confess, it’s not
so bad when he winks at me. Ben’s winks are inspirational, hopeful, sum up life
in one clean shot. I never knew a wink could do that. But with Benny boy it
does. He gulped down the rest of his smoothie. I watched his adam apple move up
and down. I felt his hand on my shoulder. He was sweaty, but I didn’t care.
Most times, I cringe around sweaty people. But Ben is different. I’ve gotten
used to him. I’d say he’s like a comfortable pair of shoes. I think I should
have felt more confused and freaked out but, instead, after our talk, I was
feeling better somehow. I am looking forward to this day, to something
spectacular.

Lance

COMMENTS

Heather
Ben sounds like a neat guy. : )

@heather
yep

TRUDY’S
SUICIDE

Winks lie. Trudy Markus tried to commit suicide. I
was hopeful. But it didn’t last. It never does. We ate our Thanksgiving dinner
at Trattoria’s. We had ravioli instead of turkey, and it was different and
almost bearable—that is until we got home. We turned down our street. Ben was
laughing at one of Dorrie’s corny jokes, and I was trying hard not to, but then
it became silent and you could see the flashing lights. The police and ambulance
and even the fire department were at the Markus’s house. It was surreal. I
thought about it later, the irony, while we were eating pasta and pumpkin pie
and laughing, Trudy was trying to die. Leya told me I shouldn’t trust her.
Trudy
is strange
she said. But, she was my friend. I really liked her before she
changed. While Leya was hanging out with Susanne and a few older kids from the
neighborhood, ignoring me, I hung out with Trudy. We rode bikes around the
cul-de-sac. She had a basketball hoop and we played H.O.R.S.E. Her mom invited
me in a few times for brownies. The brownies were always warm and we’d eat them
with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or whipped cream. I loved the way it melted.
Trudy’s mom was nice and smiled all the time. I only saw Trudy’s dad a couple
of times and he was really tall and serene like Abe Lincoln. Trudy looked just
like her mom. It was after her parents were killed in the accident that Trudy
changed. Death can do that. I know that now. She stopped riding her bike. I
never saw her outside. Leya and I would ride our bikes up to Trudy’s house and
hang around because Leya wanted to hear some swearing and yelling. I never
admitted it, but I didn’t like doing that. It made me feel creepy to spy on
her. And, one time, I never told Leya, but I went to the door. I thought maybe
Trudy missed me and could use some company. I stood there for like five minutes
ringing the bell. When she answered she looked tall and mean. She was wearing a
black shirt with a skull on the front and she had dark make up under her eyes.
“What the hell do you want?” she asked. I didn’t say anything. I just ran away.