Of Breakable Things (15 page)

“This soldier,” Duvall said, “was attacked while accompanying an ambassador to a sister city in Russia.”

“It just looks like he’s asleep,” a boy with a pointy nose remarked.

“Very true, Mr. Darwin, but some substances are toxic to us in our spiritual shells because they are typically toxic to the brain. Copper, for instance. This solider died.”

Darwin. The boy’s black eyes matched his spiked hair just like Tess.

Duvall looked up at her own memory. “During the procedure documented here, doctors were able to successfully imprint jade within the mind of the soldier. But the effects of the copper turned out to be too strong.”

Alex began to raise her hand, but Madison Constance beat her to it. “If jade heals the core area, why would it need to be put into his mind?”

“Because when the solider was attacked, the copper was shot into the projection of his abdomen. His mind creates the projection of his core area, and therefore it needed to be his mind where the healing took place.

“Amazing, yet often unfortunate what a simple rock can do.”

The image of the bracelet began to spin.

“Almost as amazing as what the mind can do.”

***

“So what do you think of the witch?” Jack asked when the class was dismissed.

“She didn’t seem like a witch to me.”

“Ha! She’s not going to jump on her broomstick and ride around the classroom, is she? Everyone knows what she is, and even if they didn’t, we have our very own tenth generation witch hunter to confirm it.”

Jack beamed at Reuben, whose eyes never left the ground to acknowledge Alex.

The Darwin boy with the pointy nose rushed past them. He chased after a taller boy with identical features, with Tess-the-Pest at his heels, shoving Reuben into the wall and knocking Jack’s books from his arms. Reuben tucked his chin down even lower in embarrassment.

“But the weirdest part”—Jack scooped up his belongings without missing a beat—“is that she came here when she died. Spirits and witches are not friendly.”

The statement seemed ridiculous to Alex. “What? They couldn’t figure out who got custody of the werewolves?”

Calla crossed her arms at Alex in disapproval. She walked unusually fast, and Alex wondered if she was trying to ditch her. Jack, on the other hand, let out a little laugh. At least he had a sense of humor. “Seriously though,” he said, “why would she take refuge in Eidolon? Why wouldn’t she just return to her old life? She must have done something wrong.”

After a minute, Jack began to whistle merrily while Calla scanned the hallway. The way she acted, Alex wondered if they might be under enemy fire at any moment. Reuben tripped over his feet to keep up with them, resembling a meatball rolling down the hallway. This trio of misfits was so very bizarre.

Judging by the expression Jonas gave her when he saw her company, he agreed. “New friends?” he asked once he had stolen her away.

“I guess. They’re an interesting bunch.”

“Interesting? That’s a very political way to describe them. You always were a bleeding heart.”

“What do you mean?”

He pretended to cradle his bag in his arms. “You adopt weirdoes like some people adopt stray kittens.”

“Shut up! Wait. How do you figure?”

“Oh my god. Liv Frank!”

“Liv was not a weirdo!”

“Oh please!” Jonas sniffed. “She had invisible friends up until middle school. She’d even introduce them to people.”

Alex couldn’t deny that Liv marched to the beat of her own drum. Actually, she was her own one-man band. “I always thought maybe you had a crush on Liv.”

Jonas crinkled his nose in revulsion. “How could you have possibly come across that theory?”

“You were so mean to her.”

“And?”

Alex swallowed her words. Jonas had never been one to control his emotions. If he felt strongly about someone or something, any emotion would do.

She only realized when Jonas pushed her away how close they’d been huddled together laughing. A storm cloud appeared on his face, solemn and pouty, and thus Alex was not surprised to look up and see Gabe and Kaleb standing ten yards away. The way Kaleb eyed his brother, Jonas could have been an insect buzzing in circles around Alex’s head, and Kaleb seemed prepared to swat him away if necessary.

***

The first time a boy told Alex he loved her, she was four years old. It was February thirteenth. She and Chase sat together in a flour-clouded kitchen helping Danya make cupcakes for Jonas’s class party. They’d already mixed together the ingredients, swiped the batter with their tiny fingers, and licked the bowl clean, but they whined to help more. Danya gave each of them an icing bag with a metal tip and laid out parchment paper so they could practice making hearts with the icing before drawing them on the cupcakes.

Alex concentrated so hard her face scrunched in feverish determination. But no matter how hard she tried, hearts were just too difficult.

Jonas was slamming his hands into the stray flour, sending wisps of white into the air like powdery smoke, so his mother suggested he select candy sweethearts to put on the family cupcakes.

“What does this one say, Mom?”

She glanced over. “U R a 10.”

Jonas scrutinized the cupcakes before placing the heart on the one with a big
G
for Gabe.

“This one?” he asked.

“Lover boy,” she said absently.

Jonas smirked and put it on Kaleb’s cupcake. “And this one?”

“Hug me.”

He placed it on Danya’s, and she smiled.

“I hate hearts!” Alex burst out in frustration, throwing down the tube of icing. Her blobs looked more like amoebas. “I can’t do them.”

“Just practice your letters, then,” Danya suggested calmly.

Alex stuck out her lip, determined to pout. But it wasn’t every day they were allowed to use icing to color. Moments later, she picked up the tube and began to draw her initials, since those were her best letters. Pretty soon, silver ARA’s were covering the page like stars in the sky.

“This one?” Jonas held up a green candy heart.

“I love you.”

“May I have something to eat?” Alex asked.

Danya checked her watch. “Didn’t you eat breakfast?”

Alex hung her head and muttered something under her breath.

“What?”

“I said I couldn’t find any food at home.”

Danya bit her lip. “I’ll make you something, honey. Wash your hands.” She looked like she might cry as she pulled a chair to the sink. She turned back to her son who watched her cautiously. “Jonas, did you give that I LUV U heart to Daddy?”

“No,” Jonas said, shuffling through the rest of the candy.

“To Chase?”

“No.”

“Who’d you give it to?”

“Alex.”

“Oh really?” There was humor in her tone. “Why? Because it’s green? Alex loves green.”

“No. Because I love her,” he said casually.

Danya bit her bottom lip. “Oh, you do?” she asked. Chase put down his icing and frowned.

“Yep,” Jonas said, holding up another sweetheart. “This one?”

“Alex, I’ll make you a sandwich, but your cupcake is there,” Danya said, pointing to the one with the green I LUV U.

“Thanks.” Alex returned to her stool, oblivious to the message she couldn’t read. “Hey!” She noticed the parchment paper. “How’d you do that?” Where there used to be a sea of ARA’s, there were now upside down
R
’s and hearts.

“I just added a sideways
3
to the bottom of the
A
and flipped it over.” Chase beamed at her. “It wasn’t too hard.”

“Show me how!” Alex didn’t even glance at the cupcake when she peeled off the paper.

Of course Chase would be the one to figure out how to complete her heart. Jonas sat quietly, flicking candy hearts across the kitchen.

Alex had not remembered until this memory came back to her five times stronger during death, but when she attempted to eat the cupcake, it was bitter. Each bite tasted like a violation, like someone was reaching down her throat and trying to steal something that wasn’t his to take.

“Have you thought more about our discussion last time? About purpose?”

Alex groaned. “No, not really, Ellington. And by the way, you sound like a real shrink when you bring up stuff like that.”

He folded his hand in his lap. “A real shrink? What do you think I am?”

“You’re not exactly typical, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“What did those typical shrinks say to make you so apprehensive about therapy?”

“They didn’t really listen. They never accepted my relationship with Chase, the reality of it. They labeled it to be another intense teenage Romeo and Juliet romance gone wrong. They believed I clung to Chase because of my”—Alex rolled her eyes—“daddy issues.”

“In all honesty, I have to say if you were still alive, I might be steering you down the exact same path. But thankfully, on that topic, here everyone is on a level playing field when they arrive. Everyone suffers a bit from the self-esteem and abandonment issues that might result from a negligent parent. We each arrive here alone, usually as young adults who still need the comfort of parental love and guidance. Without people who are obligated to care for us and support us.”

“Why is that? Why are most newburies my age?”

Ellington propped his feet on the nearest chair. “I think young children are braver than young adults. They aren’t afraid of what is behind shiny door number two. They are willing to leave themselves behind. Adults, on the other hand, usually are not even presented with the option. Their spirits have become blemished by the stress and complications of life.”

“Stress and complications? Like going to school and finding a job? How is that different from what we have to do here?”

“Don’t confuse work with purpose.”

“Here we go.”

Ellington gnawed at his pen. “Have you put any thought into it? You need to find more than one thing in this world to live for. Potential drifts around you like a perfume, and yet you ignore it.”

“I can’t explain what pulls me towards Chase, but I’ve come to realize it isn’t something I can control.”

“I will negotiate with you. I’ll accept that Chase is half of you. You’ve been running after this love all your life and death. What do you do once you have it?”

“Live happily ever after.”

Ellington mimicked puking. “The modern spins on fairy tales continue to warp the impressionable minds of children. What will you do during your happily ever after? Sit there and stare at each other for all eternity? No matter how much you deny it, eventually you will resent him.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’ll wake up one day with the air around you stale, in a rotting world, because your thoughts have done nothing except fester.” He glanced at the walls. “To believe that simply attaining companionship and nothing else would truly make you happy would be expected of someone with—as you termed it—daddy issues.”

“You said everyone has those here.”

“In the sense that everyone is looking for approval. Spirits arrive here alone and have to find their place. The aspects of our human nature do not fade away when we pass on, by our choice. One of those aspects being the need for acceptance.”

“Is that why the families stick together here?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“I don’t have family,” Alex said firmly, holding Ellington’s gaze. “Why doesn’t anyone care to discuss why?”

“Even if we had the time to address it today, is it worth discussing someone or something that is gone?”

The irony of that statement was enough to make Alex laugh aloud. Technically, that was the essence of Ellington’s profession. “What would be the purpose of history class, or even sitting here in this room, if we weren’t interested in the past?”

“Touché.”

***

“So what is this meeting about?” Jonas griped. “Besides hard labor.”

Thick brown paper and pumpkin innards blanketed the tables in Grandiuse Hall. The entire student body was put to work carving jack-o-lanterns to decorate the streets of the town. Eidolon always seemed to have a marvelous charge in the air, but the Halloween season made the excitement electrifying, and consequently the Hall stunk of burnt pumpkin seeds.

“Yeah, because carving pumpkins is such hard work,” Gabe joked.

Jonas sniffed. “Involuntary work.”

Alex couldn’t complain. This was better than another Grandiuse lecture on study habits, losing books, loitering in the courtyard, or new consequences for bullying Reuben and the Bond twins.

Reuben sat alone at a nearby table of chokers, a nickname for the newburies who still had difficulty coming to terms with their recent deaths. Jonas called them the “suicides.” They were the only spirits indifferent enough to allow Reuben at their table. He sat clutching a butcher knife in his pudgy hands, and his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth as he eyed his jack-o-lantern critically. Someone had dumped a mound of pumpkin guts on top of his backpack on the floor behind him. He hadn’t noticed it yet.

“Do you think there will be a lecture today?”