A Portal to Leya (2 page)

Neal Lourdes is a suspect in Leya's murder. I found
out a few things. He was adopted. His biological parents were abusive, left him
in the car for hours while they gambled and drank. It makes sense. Abusive kids
grow up and abuse. But what if it's not him and there are all those energies
getting displaced. I’m trying to make sense. I’m left behind trying to figure
it out. All I know is that I have this running script of Leya in my head,
replaying every second.

Lance

COMMENTS

2cents
yeah he was a nut

@2cents
who Kafka or Neal?

2cents
both

THE
NEWS

So,
I’m on my laptop blogging in the living room. Dorrie is on the loveseat
reading. Ben is working late. She asked what I was doing in her mother manner.  I
told her it was an essay for school. Just don’t feel like getting into a
dialogue. Then the whistle blew for her hot water. When she left the room, the
news came on. I’m watching now. I want to include every detail because I need
to know, really know, who murdered Leya Blackwater. So, here’s what I see:  There
are reporters and cameras in front of 9 Maple Hill Ave, interviewing Neal’s
adopted parents; microphones, wind, wild, blustery, the works; the mother is
Nancy; she looks like her name—Nancy neat and prim. She is leaning into her
husband, Jack. Wind blows Nancy’s hair across her face. She doesn’t care. It
blows her hair across her face and into her mouth and into her eyes. She is
wearing a dark wool blazer and a white blouse. Nancy is listing to the side,
crying; her voice is shaky: “Neal could not have done this. Not the Neal we
know and love. Not our Neal.” I wonder why parents always say that, not our
child as if they are immune to the tragedy that only befalls
other
people.
“I can’t fathom it.” she adds. Jack is at least two or three inches taller than
his wife. He is wearing a long camel hair coat, his eyebrows are furrowed: “I
can’t imagine the horror that the Blackwater family is experiencing right now.
Nancy and I, we are both so sorry for their loss.” He speaks in a low even
tone, guarded, neutral. Someone once called me "guarded" some doctor
or teacher. Nancy and Jack look at each other and then back to the reporters.
Jack bows his head and then shakes it back and forth. Nancy’s hair is still
loose around her face, strands blow on her mouth. “It’s a nightmare,” Jack
says. Behind them, detectives are carrying computers and boxes out of the
Lourdes’s home. They are indifferent, talking back and forth to each other,
probably about sports or dinner. “I keep waiting to wake up,” Nancy says. Jack
reaches over and moves her hair to the side. I don’t know what she’s thinking
at this point. I’m drowning in confusion. If confusion were water I’d be dead
right now. Dorrie returned with this oversized mug of tea. She looked at me in
her obnoxiously curious way. I could have told her about the news. The old me
would have said something. I didn’t say anything. Why should I waste my time?
People are merely stick figures to me, or animated robots moving in and out of
spaces. I see them down to their smallest parts, down to the molecules, the
atoms, the energy and vibrations. It’s all about the waves.

Lance

COMMENTS

2cents
yep, I think it was him. Neal Lourdes is a criminal. I know it was him. I know
it. I caught him standing next to my Mom’s bureau. He claimed he was using the
bathroom. He pawned that ring. It was worth a few grand.

@2cents
Who are you? Where do you live? Do you live in town?

2cents
Like
I said (previous post) we moved to Florida last year. Neal was a punk then. I’m
sure he hasn’t changed much. He used to hit me hard as hell for no reason and
the say “just playin' dude” I hate that. I hate when some punk like Neal messes
with you and then says “just playin'.”

SCHOOL
SUCKS

I hate the word sucks.
I learned that word in middle school. No wonder. That’s when the fun ends, the
recess, the holiday parties; that’s when you learn, really learn, that school
is mainly an initiation into some dull routine of work and you better be
prepared. If you’re not, you fail. Waking up is painful. Dorrie has about four
different kinds of food prepared just to get me to eat. I mean, who goes to
those extremes for anyone? I wouldn’t. I take that back. Maybe I would for Leya.
But food is inconsequential at this point. And did I mention I despise school?
It makes no sense— the getting up; the going there; the sitting at a desk in a
classroom with lame inspirational posters on the walls; the listening to a
teacher drone on ENDLESSLY. I force myself to move, to get there. I arrive in
body only. I shuffle from class to class, zoned out. Here’s what I know about
school: If you pretend to listen and make an effort, and keep your mouth shut,
no one notices you; it’s easy to be invisible in school. That’s why there are
so many egocentric jerks in school; they just want to be noticed.

I kept busy thinking
today that Neal could have done it. Neal was a brute, a bully. He definitely
bullied Leya. I know that. Undoubtedly, he was a complete ass. But I never
thought murder was in the cards. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he had rage
and it just blew out like a negative blast. I mean it does happen—not that I
would know. I keep my anger in check. But I’ve read about it enough times. You
know the psycho student who suddenly goes postal and fires rounds in the
cafeteria. Overall, despite being spared psycho shooters, school was a horror.
It was utter horror. I had to pretend to be human, normal, the old me. Not that
I was ever really normal.  But at least then I could focus. Now, I can't get a
straight thought in my head. And to add insult to injury (Dorrie saying) I am no
longer able to remain invisible; I’m assaulted by students begging to hear
about it, to be near me, talk to me. It's as if I am part of it, this whole
sick murder. I hate how they think it’s so important in a gross sort of way.

On another note: I thought I smelled Leya. I really
did. She always smelled so amazing. “Why do you always smell so good?” I asked
her one time. She said I was crazy. She laughed when she said it. I think she
liked me more than a friend. I wish I had kissed her.

Lance

COMMENTS

Susanne
Lance,
you should know I was searching news articles. I talked to detectives
yesterday. They took my computer after I told them about emails from Leya. But
I printed off most of the emails first. I want to keep them. This one was
written the day before the dance. It is so unbearable, I know. I can’t stop
crying.

Suz!

I
can't tell you how mad I am at ykw. I can’t even say his name I’m so mad. He is
the biggest loser that ever breathed. He said he would go to the dance and now
is refusing. I thought maybe I’d give him one more chance to act normal. I'm so
done with him. I mean it this time. I have no time for such nonsense!!! It's as
if he's too cool to be seen with me at a Halloween dance? Or maybe he has other
plans with the other ykw. I can't stand her. She will just use him. I know it.
She is total emo trash!!! I guess they belong to each other! PLEASE call me!!
You need to come by tomorrow after school. I really want you to go to the dance
with me. I do not want to go alone. I really need to stay away from him. He is
so toxic. Maybe I'll talk to Lance! He may go with us! I think I can convince
him.
See ya
Leya

@susanne
thanks.

THE
DESIRE

Desire is a dangerous thing. It gnaws at you until you’re
crippled. It drives people to gamble, drink, and commit suicide and crimes. I
have no, absolutely no, desire to go to school. I begged Dorrie to let me take
a few extra days. Thank god she agreed. Chase, who I’ve known since
Kindergarten, keeps calling. What’s his deal? Regret, blame…call it what you
want. All I know is that if I didn't go with him to the dance, I would have
gone with Leya. Maybe she'd be alive now. I don’t want to blame him. I know
it's not his fault, but it's too complicated. I can't explain. Words are
useless. And anyway Chase has always been pretty much a convenient friend not a
real friend like Leya. I was never much of a friend person. I like my solitude.
Friends are overrated. In fact, now, I loathe the word friend. At this point, I
hate most people. I just want Leya. I don’t want anyone or anything else. Leya
always liked that song by Bread “All I need is the air that I breathe and to
love you.” She used to play the CD and sing to it. She was tone deaf. I’d tease
her about it. She’d laugh. I wish, now, I hadn’t said that. I loved her voice.
I should have told her.

Btw: I just found a jelly bean on the living room
floor. It was a black jelly bean, her favorite. It’s a sign.

Lance

COMMENTS

anonymous
Sad blog, dude. I can’t stress it enough. Get some help. I can relate to
everything. Lost a good friend last year and sunk into a dark depression. Get
some therapy ASAP.

2cents
drugs
work if you take the right ones. I know what you mean tho about friends. Keep
your so called
friends
close but your enemies closer.

CONNECTED

Lately,
when I log onto my computer, I’m connecting to Leya. She is communicating to me.
I hear her:
Chin up
! I hear her voice in my head all the time. It’s
weird. At first, it was soothing. But now, I’m hearing it too much and I wonder
if I’m insane. Maybe I’m losing my grip. I have no idea what losing your grip
even means. Maybe it really is Leya's voice. Or, maybe it’s the other, that I’m
losing my mind. Should I tell? Anyone reading my blog will know. I figure I’m
mourning. I’m entitled to mourn. It’s the most normal human emotion. So maybe
I’m normal. All I know is that I feel so close to her now. I heard her voice
this morning.
Lance a
nd it felt so good, soothing. She used to say she
loved my name.
Lance
. It was like a whisper in my ear. Then I smelled
burned toast. Ben is always burning something. I heard them laughing like
idiots. I walked downstairs and saw them at each other. They don’t care how my
life is meaningless, they don’t care. No, they just kept laughing, groping. I
was an ass this morning. I admit.  I asked Ben “so, are you spending the night
now?” His mouth hung open. He was speechless. Dorrie gave me the evil eye. Leya
would get it. Leya had amazing green eyes; she scrunched her nose all the time.

Lance

COMMENTS

Susanne
:
Lance, if you need to talk contact me I pm'd my phone and email.
It’s so incredibly hard without her. I think she is still here!!! She was my
best friend too. She really loved you, Lance. She talked about you all the
time. This blog is so sad. I don’t know if I can keep reading. I’ll try. Please
call me. I have more emails, I’ll post soon.

Heather
OMG
this blog is so depressing. What is it? Is it like a memorial for Leya Blackwater?
Do you think she can hear you? I’ve never read a blog like this before. I knew Leya
too!! Do you call her Leya? I didn't know her that well. I love that nickname
though. She was in two of my classes this year. I just moved here from Vermont.
Leya was hilarious. She used to look back at me and cross her eyes when Mr. D.
was lecturing. I loved how she crossed her eyes! Lance, I really like how
you’re writing this blog. I think it’s so cool. I can’t wait to read more. I
feel so sad for you though. : ( I do think you could use some help.

@heather
thanks but I’m fine. I don’t need your help. If you think you’re going to cheer
me up, you’re not. Life isn’t that simple. It’s not all about root beer lip
gloss and the ski team. I think you are grossly misinformed about me. I despise
most people and am writing this for myself and Leya and no one else. I don’t
want any diatribe about how pitiful I am and how sad it must be. All that
wasted jargon; all those niceties make me want to vomit.

Heather
fyi
I don’t wear lip gloss and am petrified of skiing and I forgive you honey.

@heather
don’t call me honey.

THE
RETURN

I
saw Leya. I swear it was real. She was right next to me. I smelled her— strawberry
shampoo. She was sitting on the foot of my bed. She looked right at me and
smiled. She moved in closer. I reached out. I touched her hair, ran my fingers
through it. I put my head up close to it and smelled it. Our mouths were so
damn close but then a sharp painful agonizing wretched sound penetrated my
ears: “TIME TO GET UP, LANCE!” It’s unbearable pain, the real world, I mean,
without Leya. I don’t know if I want to stay here without her. Why? Who did
those things to her? I’m supposed to go back to school. I can’t imagine. Leya loved
school, told me to study hard:
Study hard, Lance!
 I hear her. I feel her
energy, I know now my blog is working. I keep thinking about her eyes. They looked
almost sad. I can’t bear it. Was she sad for herself or me?

Lance

COMMENTS

2cents
you’re in denial dude. Get some help, some meds, something. When I lost my dog,
I was the same damn way. Get a grip.

Heather
I’ll
look for you today, Lance. What do you look like? Who are your teachers? PM me
a pic of yourself so I can find you! You won’t scare me away. I know you’re
sad, but I can cheer you up!