Beloved Evangeline (24 page)

It was easier, in a way, leaving. Being at Nicky’s house was much too difficult. Don’t get me wrong, I loved seeing her, and I wanted to try and make amends. It was her parents that were the problem. Her parents were
grateful
to me. They thought I’d saved her. They were apparently among the search party and were there to see me, a 12-year-old girl, exhausted and in shock, dragging their broken and bloodied daughter to safety. They were salt of the earth people. They didn’t believe in any supernatural nonsense. They didn’t believe anything in the world was truly evil, so they didn’t blame me at all. They couldn’t see what I truly was. I couldn’t bear it.

I woke up shivering, unable to be breath. My neck was stiff, stiffer even than most of the nights I end up on the floor. I raised my hand to my neck and found it to be
wet
. When my eyes finally adjusted, my shock and confusion only grew. I was not in my house again. I was on the ground of the graveyard, propped up against one of three or four crypts. I was in my nightgown and covered in dew. Fog was beginning to rise from the earth. My watch said 4:00 a.m. I rushed home before anyone else could see, and curled up on the couch staring off into nothing.

What is happening to me?

18.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to be at the office, to concentrate on my actual work. My focus and attention were uncharacteristically absent. Something was seriously wrong with me. These petty statistics now seemed less than meaningless. I am now convinced that my theory of being easily replaced should I drop dead is completely legit. My work had recently even been completed all on its own.

Not helping matters is that
it
seems to be happening with increasing frequency. One morning while I was walking downtown toward my office building, a block of concrete came crashing down behind me in the vicinity of the Wells Fargo Center—formerly the Independent Life Building—a 37-story structure that was once the tallest building in Florida.

The force of the impact caused every person on the street to freeze. A businessman of about my same age stood only a foot or so on the other side of the crater and smashed concrete. The two of us looked at each other before tracing the logical course of the concrete’s descent from 37 floors above.

Finally pedestrian traffic resumed as businesspeople hurried to get to their jobs. The man across the crater looked as though he were about to speak.

“
Run
,” I whispered, before he had a chance to say anything.

He took off running in the opposite direction.

The next several weeks were spent battling a quiet desperation. For the first time in my life, in addition to being at odds with myself and most of the people in my life, I could also add unhappiness with my job to the list. I now found that it didn’t suit me at all, but there were too many other stressors in my life at the moment for me to add job hunting to that list. The second task had been a complete failure. All I’d gotten out of it was an empty chest, muddy clothes, and pissed off friends. And, I still didn’t know what I was going to do about the next task. It would be coming soon, and for some reason, I seriously doubted it would be quite as easily accomplished as the last two.

I hadn’t seen Gavin or Simon in weeks. I supposed it was for the best. Avoidance tended to be a better strategy for me than confrontation. Less productive, but better. Besides, I had no idea what I would say to Gavin. Probably something like,
Sorry to hurt your feelings, but I’m just really, really screwed up right now and... always will be.
Nice.

Nicky, Lyle, and I had taken to lunching together, without the
Simon and Simon
brothers. The last time I saw them, Simon was wearing a Sherpa-lined denim jacket and had changed his office nameplate to read, Simon, Rick. Gavin walked past with his hair purposely feathered, just like A.J.

I managed a warm, hesitant smile.

“
Hey, chica! Dig the hair?” Gavin began light-heartedly. He started to say more but Simon’s glare stopped him.

My own smile vanished.

Maybe I had not been looking at these things in the proper light. Nicky and I were much more at ease with one another after our little adventure in the swamp. Though not exactly rekindled to the point of its former glory, our friendship seemed to have regained some ground, even strengthened. Fortunately, we had both decided to cling onto that friendship and not let go. The balance was delicate, but I felt sure it would endure as long as both of us held onto the tenuous tether that seemed to bind us together.

Perhaps it was the recovery of our friendship or the sense of purpose my life had undertaken, that were to blame for what happened next. Whatever the reason, I began to realize I was changing in subtle ways, or maybe more accurately,
healing
.

I was waiting at the microwave for my tea one morning, when Steve sidled up beside me. I knew this moment was coming—he simply could not resist the chance to further humiliate a woman, particularly me. There were quite a few onlookers, people going about their business in the kitchen. Despite continuing with their business, their ears seemed to perk up a bit.

“
I’ve been thinking things over, sweetheart. Maybe I should give you another shot with me after all,” he licked his lips. “What d’ya say?”

The room was suddenly silent. I summoned my composure, and smiled at him for a moment.

“
You seem to know a lot about my reputation, Steve, which means… you know that I select only the
bravest
,
boldest
, most
exciting
men in the world to share my bed,” I expounded in what I hoped was my most seductive sounding voice, though I had no prior experience using it.

I am a terrible actor and was sure I sounded irrevocably foolish and cheesy, but Steve showed no trace of disbelief or dissatisfaction.

I paused, faltering for just a moment. “But I found you…
wanting
. I mean, really, there was no way you could’ve ever
measured
up
,” I glanced briefly in the direction of his crotch.

It took Steve several moments to realize he’d been insulted. His face dropped. “Wha—you couldn’t have even seen it!” He shouted inarticulately.

Several of the onlookers sniggered.

I pressed my index finger to my lips, suppressing a wry smile.

“
You know what I mean! I never even got to see you naked because
nothing
happened!” Steve shouted, clearly exasperated.

“
No? Did we not?” I pulled a puzzled expression. “Oh well. The ones who fail to
inspire
me sort of…” I motioned upward with my hand, suggesting vapor dissipating.
Poof.

Steve’s face went red, and he gave me a look meant to indicate I would be paying for this insolence at some point.

But not today
, I thought, and smiled a wicked smile in return. I shouldn’t have used the sex thing against him—I know that—but he did start it. Steve spun around, forgetting the coffee in his hand. Coffee splashed all over the front of his pants and the surrounding carpet. He marched off in a rage.

From this point on, I would stand and face my enemies like a man.

Anticlimactically, Lyle stopped by my office after lunch that afternoon to inform me he’d gained no new insight or information on his supposed serial killer suspect theory. He still clung to the idea that Steve was the primary suspect. Though I had no love for Steve myself, he just didn’t strike me as being… well,
bright
enough to accomplish any number of things that were necessary for a successful serial killer. Steve was definitely guilty of other sins, but I failed to see the meticulous, thoughtful, lone-wolf qualities of a typical serial killer among them.

My friendship with Lyle was less complicated than my other relationships, which was a welcome change. We could talk endlessly about movies, music, and serial killers, but anything more down-to-earth than that was just out of the question. Lyle simply had conversational tunnel vision and could not be dissuaded. Not that I minded those topics, but I soon found myself longing for the gregarious bond I’d shared with Nicky, Gavin, and Simon. I gradually began to understand that it was just being with
them
that I missed.

Fortunately during lunch one afternoon, an amazing thing happened. Tina, a shy mousy girl, who I’d never noticed at the café before, came up to our table, straight up to me.

“
Hey, Evangeline,” Tina began quietly, “I just wanted to say that you standing up to Steve like that was really cool.” She looked down, hands fidgeting, before continuing, “Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

At first I just couldn’t believe this was a real request, but snapped out of it quickly enough.

“
Oh my God, of course. Please,” I finally blurted, gesturing to one of three empty chairs at the table.

Tina was a bit timid at first, but by the time lunch was over we had her snorting out her iced tea.

Lunch was over far too quickly and I soon found myself back in my office, staring at my computer screen, immersed in thought. No matter how hard I wracked my brains, I could find no solution to my conundrum. I needed to break free, to be back on my own with no one else but me to get hurt. The only problem is… I
can’t
. Despite my best efforts, my four loyal friends seem to have burrowed their way into my heart and soul, and there’s simply no way to shake them. Even though Gavin and Simon were upset with me at the moment, I know they’d never leave if they knew I was in trouble.

Simon proved that when he showed up at the swamp; I just hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time. I also have to admit, no matter how much it angers me, I
need
them. Their friendship, acceptance, and good cheer brought me back from the brink; I know that now. Gavin may be mad at the moment, but with my luck, I know it’s only temporary. Besides, even if he hates me he’ll probably never send Simon alone to help me again. I’ve tried and tried to reconcile a way to keep them with me, keep them safe, and accomplish my goals at the same time, but I simply come up blank. And the reason that comes to me from somewhere down deep inside is really what I’ve known all alone: whatever I need to do
has
to be done on my own. No one else can do it for me. No one else can really even help. Anyone who tries will only be in the way, and the evil thing that’s waiting will only make them pay.

I was off in my fantasy world, staring at the computer screen, trying to reconcile this in my daydreams, when Mr. Oxley startled me by knocking on my door.
How long had he been watching me stare at my computer?
I wondered. His expression was curious, but not any more curious than normal. On countless occasions, I’d seen him pick up on object as banal as a paperweight from his desk and study it with intense curiosity. Gregorio is just one of those people who aren’t embarrassed by occasionally socially inappropriate impulses like unabashed curiosity.

The world actually needed more people like Mr. Oxley, I thought, and less of the cynical and snarky exhausting people that the earth seemed to be suddenly overpopulated with.
I
could have the same child-like innocence as Mr. Oxley, if only I were a little less sarcastic.

I decided to pretend that, for all he knew, I’d just been really, really curious about the inner workings of my computer screen. It made me feel better. Besides, it wasn’t like I’d purposefully set out to stare at my computer; it just happened. Weird, though, come to think of it, I couldn’t seem to remember just how long I had been sitting there gawking at the stupid thing.

“
Do you have a minute, Evangeline?” Mr. Oxley asked while helping himself into one of the chairs opposite my desk.

My heart sank
. Oh no
, I thought. I’ve been so distracted that he must’ve noticed a difference in the quality of my work lately. Being lectured about it right now was just about the last thing I wanted to endure. I know I’m distracted and not fully present here, but there’s little I can do to change that at the moment. My outside-of-work distractions don’t exactly make for the most work appropriate conversation, either.