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Authors: Elizabeth Brown

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“NO! I can’t! It’s broken! Look at this shit!” I
held out the broken hand like some sacrifice, smeared with my blood. Part of me
was, I guess, mad the other was…I don’t know. I can’t explain.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I have some glue, Lance.
Chill dude. We can fix it. Let’s go get some glue,” she said.

“No, I broke it. You don’t understand. I
can’t
fix it. Leya told me not to break it! But I grabbed it… I didn’t
care
…I
grabbed it before she could get it… I broke it. I did it! Why did I
do
that? It’s broken because of ME! It’s all because of ME! I KILLED HER! IT WAS
ME! I HATE ME! I HATE ME!” I screamed. I pounded the ground with my fists. I
couldn’t stop; it was as if another person had crawled inside me. I had no
control over what happened next. And Trudy Markus stood there, befuddled,
watching me and I didn’t care what I did or said. Then, she crouched down next
to me. She sat there with me. She didn’t talk. She didn’t move. She didn’t
touch me. Her arms were crossed. She just sat there next to me. She was
present, in that place with me, and I thought of this riddle: How do you know
how to find something that can’t be found? Answer: get yourself lost. Trudy Markus
got lost to find me. I was in there, somewhere. And she knew how to do it, to
bring me back.

Then I heard another voice behind me. Trudy stood
and moved towards the new voice. They talked in hushed tones. I knew it was
about me. It was Mr. Blackwater. They kept talking. I waited for a siren, an
ambulance to take me to the hospital. Instead, Mr. Blackwater walked over to
me. He put his hand on my shoulder, told me “Come on now, get up.” I followed.
I did it because he sounded like a father, one I never had. He took me into the
bathroom. He washed my cut and then and covered it with a Band-Aid. We fixed
the Baby Jesus’s hand with cement glue. I sat at the kitchen table with the
yellow and purple flowered cloth and the wooden bowl filled with plastic grapes
and apples and bananas. It was all the same. Except this time Leya’s dad sat in
Leya’s chair and we drank hot chocolate with whipped cream (not marshmallows),
and I talked about my electromagnetic wave theory and Leedskalnin’s Coral
Castle Museum in Homestead Florida. And then Mrs. Blackwater walked in and she
smiled and thanked me and she looked like she used to before, when Leya was
alive, with lipstick and everything. I told them both I miss Leya and that it
is weird that she is not here anymore. They agreed. And then I walked home.

 

pm

I always settle for
ordinary. I hate that about me. But dinner saved me--the ordinary, the
predictable. After dinner, I walked to Leya’s house to see the Nativity scene
in the spot light. It was the same, and I felt her there, standing right beside
me, looking with me. Then, I happen to look up the street towards Trudy
Markus’s home. I can’t help it. I wonder what she is doing. I hope she’s not
taking pills. I think of how she helped me. I really think Trudy is a kind
person. Beneath all of it, she has a good heart. She is the Trudy I once knew.
I like Trudy Markus more than I can say. I want to thank her, hug her, and tell
her she is a good friend to be so nice. Then I think of how she might hate me
now. How ridiculous I must have looked—crying like an ass, a wimp. I wonder if
she will report me to the authorities, say I am unstable. It is the way it is
with me. I was born this way. I have accepted these stupid fits of mine. I move
forward because the alternative is too dark to imagine. So, I walked back home
and back to the ordinary parts of my life: a conversation with good old Benny
boy, dessert, me poking at brownie crumbs with my fork, Dorrie making coffee—these
are my places now and it feels okay.

Tonight Ben talked
about Neal Lourdes, and it felt good because facts are safe. He told me that
Neal Lourdes was disturbed and was a foster kid before he was adopted. I figure
foster kids must feel broken all the time. I told him how Leya didn’t want to
be with Neal anymore. I remember how she said
I don’t know how to get rid of
him
just a week before it happened. I remember it clearly: we were sitting
on the couch eating jelly beans and drinking Dr. Pepper. I don’t remember if I
told detective Jake that. Neal was texting her and she didn’t want to respond.
He’s
a lunatic
she said and refused to text back. He could easily be understood
as guilty. But now I know. I know but I don’t tell. I should tell, but then the
ordinary will disappear.

COMMENTS

Heather
so
sad. I can relate, Lance. I have had my own share of freak outs. Miss you! I
pm’d you a poem

@heather please keep your poetry. Thanks but no
thanks. I don’t have time for sappy poetry.

Heather
: ( meanie.

WAVES

I saw Leya. She was
standing next to the Nativity scene. I know it was her. She turned and looked
up at me. My heart raced. I looked away, rubbed my eyes. When I looked back she
was gone. Maybe I’m hallucinating. I don’t think so.  According to my wave
theory, we are all ephemeral in the physical sense. But our waves remain
behind. Waves can be one of three: positive, negative or neutral. Positive
waves are no more intensely felt than negative. Leya died on the day she was born,
October 30
th
which was a powerful positive. And she was murdered.
The negative waves from the murder were overridden by the positive waves—one is
negated by the other. But the waves are present even after your death: that
chill at the base of my neck is Leya. The other day when I misplaced my
sweatshirt and found it on the front step—Leya. Another thing, Leya always
played tricks on me. Her favorite candy was jelly beans, especially the black
ones. Ever since she died, I find black jelly beans everywhere—under the couch,
on the kitchen floor, on the rug in my bedroom. I keep them in a jar on my
desk. I know her energy is with me.

She was swallowed by
the darkness. For a moment, maybe her last moment, she felt it, pure
unadulterated evil. I can’t do a thing about it.

Lance

 

COMMENTS

Heather
so
nice. That gave me shivers.

2cents
morbid
dude. You’re hallucinating, stepping over that ridge.

 

RECEPTIVE

I thought of this today: ingesting energy happens
every day. Each time you interact with an energy source, you ingest some of it.
But you have to be receptive. I know I have received Leya. That makes me feel a
sense of peace. Christmas is supposed to be joy and peace. But, really, it
makes me empty; I fixate on Emmet, the dad I don’t know. I don’t remember Emmet.
I have one photograph. We are standing by the jetty at White Sands. He is
holding me in his arms. I have studied this one photo down to the minutest of
details; I know every shadow, every crease. We all look healthy, tanned, sun
bleached hair. Dorrie and Emmet are leaning into each other. They are so close,
they could be one person. Emmet is handsome. He has no shirt on. He is trim and
athletic. Dorrie is smiling. But Emmet is not. His mouth is partly Leya just
like mine. Our expressions are identical. Francis is not in the photo. He is
hiding underneath the cottage because he has a fever. I suppose I don’t mind at
all if I never know Emmet Bryce. We just share the same name and facial
expression, that’s all. Still, I think I am part of him and he is part of me,
because I came from him. I know this because when I see an image that could be
art (stones, water, trees, people), I think I could paint it, and I think it is
sent from him. I am the recipient. I am Leya to it. I believe he is looking at
the same image at precisely the same time. I don’t know what he paints. I don’t
know why he paints. I don’t know where he is.

But as I was saying, Leya is here with me. People
(your average person) would think I was a lunatic if I talked about ingesting
people, or my wave theory, so I don’t say anything. Most people have a wall;
they are trained to keep their thoughts on select channels and anything outside
of those channels is rejected. All unseen particles of energy, in these cases,
are explained away as earthly dust or atoms or gases. People with firewalls are
asleep. They block any energy that could affect them in either positive or
negative ways; they fear vulnerability. They like to be powerful so they feed
off false energy—an inflated sense of self that they are convinced was formed
entirely separate from their environment and the people around them. But I know
my inner core is altered and evolving repeatedly by external waves. It’s an
important concept to first know and second to accept if you want to evolve and
improve awareness.

I’m going to try to walk to school with Trudy
tomorrow. Only a few more days left before break. Then I won’t see her for a
week. I want to thank her and tell her that she needs to talk to the police. I
miss her.

Lance

COMMENTS

Susanne
Lance,
please call me. I left my number. I wanted to talk to you. I feel badly that we
haven’t connected. Please call. We can have lunch on Saturday.

@susanne busy sorry.

Heather
Wow!
I do believe we are all interconnected, Lance. But I’m still trying to
grasp your wave concept. Do think there is no higher power like God or the
other guy (ykw) that influences what we think and what we do? Is it all about
this energy that emanates off objects and people? Also, I’m not sure what you
mean by Leya being with you. Please explain.

Jabberwocky9
My
girlfriend and I always complete each other’s sentences. I can tell when she is
going to call before she calls because I get a sense. My sense now is that you
need to listen to your mom and your dr.

Anonymous
CHILL
you are headed for a stay
in a psych ward.

@heather
of course there is a grand design that exists, some mysterious and divine
origin. So, yes, I believe in God. Better to err on the side of caution when it
comes to matters of God.

THE
TALK

I barely slept. I skipped breakfast. I don’t eat
much anymore. I mean I really just don’t eat. Food is superfluous. Leya feeds e
words.  I can go without food. Gandhi did it. I can too. I looked across the
street and Leya’s blind was actually Leya in her bedroom window. I kept staring
and suddenly she appeared. She was looking straight at me. I waved. I think she
was giving me the thumbs up to talk to Trudy. In fact, I know it. Here’s why: I
saw Trudy at 7:05 a.m., the same time Mrs. Green found Leya’s body. I think
it’s significant. She looked over at me and sped up. I walked faster. She was
smoking her brown sticks.

“Is that a cigar,” I shouted after her.

“Pardon?”

“Are you smoking cigars?”

“No, it’s a cigarette.”

“Why do you smoke that kind?”

“I like the flavor and it's cheaper.”

“What is the flavor?”

“Cherry. Richmond.”

“Yummy…but really you need to tell someone.”

“But really you should stop harassing me.”

“I’m not a stalker. Why did you call me a stalker?”

“I didn’t call you a stalker. I said you were
harassing me.”

“Not now but before you did. At the grocery store,
remember?”

“No, I can’t say I do. I don’t even remember what I
said this morning let alone a couple days ago.”

“Okay, okay. Hey, I
really just wanted to say thanks for helping me the other day.”

“Sure. No problem,
dude. You were wacked out a bit there. What happened? Did you swallow the wrong
meds?”

“Ha, funny, but for
real do you think you will go to the police soon?”

“Christ, you really
know how to turn a nice conversation into shit.”

“Well, are you going to
go or not?”

“Hold on there, dude.
You’re not gonna freak out on me are you? I just can’t take it right now,
please, not this early in the morning.”

“No. I’m not. I just need to know that’s
all.”

“Well, I don’t know. So how’s that?”

She turned away. I wanted
to ask her about Neal. But she was too fast. I yelled, goodbye. She raised her
arm up without turning around. That’s the way she does it. Her Richmonds hung
in the air, cherry, a nice burnt cherry smell. I liked it.

I think I really like Trudy Markus. She is so
different from Leya. Leya was tactful and reserved. Trudy gets to the point and
she’s what one might refer to as blunt. She doesn’t like small talk. I don’t
either. I don’t think she likes too many people, especially fake ones. Leya
liked pretty much everyone. I'm not a big fan of people either. I tend to like
people more if they have something to offer me. Otherwise, I don’t feel the
need to be with my peers. I'm thinking I could hang out with Trudy. It gets my
mind off Leya.

pm

I
saw Leya again.  This time she was standing by the shed. She had on her green
sweatshirt, the one she wore on the day of the dance. But, I didn't see Trudy
It was 3:15 and I waited to see her walking home. I was feeling good, and now
I’m feeling strange like something is missing or gone awry. My moods are
unpredictable. But, it’s Christmas break and that means I have to wait to see
Trudy. I’m tired of waiting. I don’t care about Christmas and presents and all
the crap that goes with it. I want to see Trudy. I don’t even care if I’m a
stalker! I would give anything, and I mean anything to be able to hold Leya and
kiss her. But Trudy would suffice.

BOOK: A Portal to Leya
10.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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