Evan Elemental (The Evan Elemental Series) (2 page)

The
dead are full of surprises.

We sit
at a big, shiny oak table in big, shiny leather chairs. My parent's lawyer sits
at one end and I at the other. Aunt
Lilian
is to my
right; sunlight streams in through the window and catches in her hair bringing
out the golden tones you wouldn't normally notice in her dark brown hair. There
are a few other relatives scattered around the table or standing. Among them
are my parents’ business partners and friends.

I'm not
surprised that there are so many people here for the reading of the will.
Although they didn't really live like they were, my parents were wealthy. They
had made a small fortune dealing in art and antiques. It was a family business
that my father had inherited and made flourish.

The
attorney reads off
bequeathments
that mean nothing to
me. My parents were buried just yesterday and the memory still haunts me. I
zone out and wait for it to be over. Before too long people start leaving. I
take that as my cue to leave too, and start to get up.
Lilian
puts her hand on my shoulder and motions for me to keep sitting.

Everyone
has left except for Aunt
Lilian
, the attorney, and
me. I try to remember his name, but I can't. Something about the way they're
looking at me has caused my mind to go blank. I can sense something hovering on
the edges, but I can't make myself try to comprehend what it might be.

The
attorney clears his throat and launches into the details of my inheritance. I
release the breath I've been unconsciously holding. It's not anything I wasn't
expecting. It's horrible and surreal, yes, but it's expected, a routine part of
the process. I've relied so much on the routine of things in the past week that
anything unexpected would probably put me over the edge.

The
attorney clears his throat again, yanking me from my empty thoughts. I look up
to see Aunt
Lilian
staring at me. Her eyes are wide
and shining with fresh tears. I haven't been paying attention and I seem to
have missed something.

"Evan,
do you understand?" The attorney, James Montrose is his name, I think,
looks at me pointedly. He seems annoyed that I haven't responded. I glance at
Aunt
Lilian
, hoping she'll take charge and speak for
me. She just looks away, apparently too shocked by something to speak.

"I'm
sorry, but I think I'm missing something," I say weakly.

I watch
as Mr. Montrose barely suppresses an eye-roll. I remember my parents
complaining about his lack of humanity from time to time, but he was always
efficient and did his job well so they stuck with him.

"Evan,
your parents' will dictates that you will be placed in the care of your maternal
grandmother, Magda Price, until you graduate from high school."

I blink
a few times, not comprehending.
Lilian
and I haven't
spoken about it, but it was an unsaid understanding that I would stay with her.
It's what I believed my parents would have wanted. I haven't seen my
grandmother in more than ten years and I barely remember her. My mother rarely
spoke about her, but I had the understanding that they didn't get along. In
fact, I'm pretty sure my mother hated her.

I
expect myself to have some sort of meltdown, but I don't. I'm pissed, but I
manage to keep calm. I figure it will work in my favor to behave rationally if
I'm going to find some sort of clause or loophole that will get me out of that
mess.

"Mr.
Montrose, I think there's been some misunderstanding. My parents wouldn't send
me to live with someone who's basically a stranger. It makes more sense for me
to stay with
Lilian
. I'll be eighteen in six months
anyway."

The man
smiles and I'm reminded of a snake exposing its fangs. "Evan, I know
you're familiar with your aunt, and maybe you would be more comfortable staying
with her, but Ms. Price is a very wealthy, very well connected woman. She can
afford you the kinds of opportunities that someone else might not be able
to." He glances at
Lilian
when he says that last
part. Her eyes narrow and she opens her mouth to speak, most likely to ream his
smug ass out completely. But, before she has the chance, Mr. Montrose
continues.

"Besides,
it's a moot point. Your parents' will is very clear on the matter. Your aunt
can contest the terms of the will, but it would be a waste of time and money.
As I said before, Ms. Price is very wealthy. She's also very excited to have
Evan come stay with her, and I doubt she would give up easily on the
matter."

Lilian
just sits there without
speaking. The swell of angry fire that rises up inside of me is quickly
extinguished by the look on her face. If
Lilian
doesn't believe an argument can be won, then it can't.

Mr.
Montrose keeps droning on about the specifics, but what it comes down to is
that I have about a week to pack my things and move to my grandmother's house
in Upstate New York where I'll begin school in the fall. I'm excused from the
remainder of the semester due to "extenuating circumstances." My
teachers will give me the grades they expected I would have receive based on my
performance up until now. I almost want to argue that I'm fine to go back to
school until summer vacation, but the thought of having to explain over and over
again what happened makes me sick.

After a
while we get up to leave. Mr. Montrose dismisses
Lilian
,
but he keeps me behind. I look to
Lilian
to see what
I should do, but she's already out the door. I turn back to Mr. Montrose and
find him fumbling with his briefcase. After a moment, he pulls out a small box
wrapped in plain brown paper.

"There
we go," he says gruffly, holding up the box and giving it a long satisfied
look. He turns to me then and clears his throat.

"This
belonged to your mother. She had originally intended to give this to you upon
your eighteenth birthday, but her will dictates that it should pass to your
possession immediately in the event of her death."

I
swallow hard, barely able to breathe. All this time and no one
has
actually said it: her death. It's always
"passed" or "left us," like there's still the possibility
that they'll come through the door any second. I search Mr. Montrose's face for
any bit of remorse or embarrassment but there isn't any, which I appreciate.

He
holds out the box to me and I just stare at it without taking it.

"What
is it?" I ask without looking up.

"Honestly,
I have no idea. She was just very adamant that you have it."

I might
be imagining it, but I swear I see a hungry look pass over his face as he takes
one last look at the box. It's that look that shakes me out of the fog that's
consumed me since that SUV hopped the median and ended my family. I grab the
box from his hand and mutter a quick thank you.

It's
difficult not to notice the look of disappointment that crosses his face. He
starts to say something else, but I turn and walk out.
Lilian
is standing just outside the door with a faraway look on her face. I want to
say something, but nothing good enough comes to mind. She glances at me out of
the corner of her eye and starts walking without waiting for me to catch up.

As we
leave the office building, I chance another look at
Lilian
.
Her face is ashen but her eyes are set with determination. She won't break down
or lose control; at least, not in front of me.

We
drive home in silence, which is a relief. I lean against the glass and stare
out of the window at the blur of scenery. In my pocket, I clutch the little
brown box and try not to think about what it means.

When we
get back to my house, I expect us to have some long conversation about what
this all means and where we should go from here. Instead,
Lilian
is on her cell the moment she's out of the car. She still hasn't looked at me
properly. I sit in the living room for a while and listen to her calling moving
and storage companies. When she gets on the phone with a realtor I go to my
room. I know that the will intends for my parents' house to be sold, but
hearing Aunt
Lilian
on the phone, making all the
arrangements, is more than I can handle.

In my
room I sit cross-legged on my bed, the box set in front of me. The sight of it
fills me with an inexplicable dread. Whatever it is, I know, somehow, that it's
just the beginning of a long list of secrets.

Gingerly,
I pluck the box off the duvet and begin gently peeling away the paper. It comes
off easily, revealing a black velvet jewelry box. My hands tremble; it's as if
the contents of the box are giving off its own energy that seeps through my
skin and into my bones.

I take
a deep breath and quickly open it. The sight that greets me is somewhat
underwhelming. It's a simple heart-shaped pendant carved out of some sort of opaque
purple stone. The stone rests in a delicately silver filigree casing and it's
strung from a long silver chain that lies coiled beneath it. I slide the
necklace out of the box and hold it up to the light. It catches the light and
seems to hold on to it for a split second before fracturing it into a million
little rainbows.

My
breath is ragged as I unhook the clasp and re-hook it around my neck. The stone
is heavy for a second, but then it seems to melt into my skin and become part
of me, as if I've always worn it.

A
slight wrap on the door shakes me from my thoughts. I don't know why, but I
feel compelled to hide the necklace from
Lilian
. I
quickly grab a discarded sweater from where it lay on my bed and pull it on,
making sure the collar is high enough to obscure the necklace completely.

"Come
in."

The
door opens and
Lilian
pokes her head in. She wears a
guilty expression that squeezes my heart and makes feel guilty in return for
keeping a secret.

"Evan?
Can I..."

"Yes!"
I blurt before she can finish.

Lilian
smiles and her shoulders sag in
relief. She walks into my room and plops down on the bed next to me, lying back
so that she's looking up at the ceiling. I do the same and we just lay there
for a while, our breath falling in sync.

Memories
come back to me, playing out on the ceiling like a movie. There's
Lilian
, just seventeen, coming to babysit me when I was
five. We built pillow forts and watched Sixteen Candles, even though that movie
was way too inappropriate for me. Fast forward to me at thirteen, locked in the
bathroom, screaming for Aunt
Lilian
. She was the only
one I would talk to when I finally got my period. Fast forward to me at
seventeen, sitting in a waiting room, waiting for someone to tell me my parents
were dead.

In that
moment that she appeared, wide-eyed and frantic, there was no doubt in my heart
that we would stick together. There isn't anyone else in the world that I could
possibly trust to take care of me as well as my parents had, or at least tried
to; it wasn't their fault that I was never whole to begin with. Now, nothing in
the world is right and no one will try to save me. My parents were gone and
Lilian
will be gone, too. It won't be long before her busy
life soaks her back up and I'm forgotten.

The
tears that had stayed frozen inside of me since that last cry in the shower,
the day after the accident, rise and spill out of me in great torrents of ache
that my body struggles to contain. My sobs come out as strange, animalistic
sounds. I'm terrified that my skin will split open and my bones will dissolve.

Lilian
squeezes my hand and lets me
cry until my voice is hoarse and my eyes feel dry and pinched. I breathe
deeply, in and out, trying to center myself. I had expected to feel worse if I
let go and gave in to my emotions, but I feel oddly better.

Aunt
Lilian
sits up and begins smoothing the duvet in small
precise circles. I stay where
I am, believing
for a
moment that if I don't move then the words won't come. But they do.
Lilian
takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. I
feel myself begin to lock up and the familiar numbness starts to take over.

"Evan.
I can't say that I'm not surprised, that I'm not completely thrown for a
fucking loop. But, your parents weren't stupid, or cruel. They were good. They
were the best people I've ever known. And
..
.
and
if this is what they wanted, then there must be a really
good reason.
A hell of a reason.
Not that they
bothered to mention that reason somewhere in that stupid piece of paper, but
that wasn't really their style, was it?"

She
turns and looks at me, finally. I meet her eyes and force myself to swallow the
truth. She's right. She's more than right. The truth doesn't make it any
easier, though. My whole body feels heavy, as if a pile of lead bricks that's
being sucked to the center of the earth by some sort of super gravitational
pull is sitting on my chest. Even so, I manage a small smile. "I guess I
better get packing."