Night wanders through dreamscapes, long unchained by mechanical melodies, swirling through a shadowed way like a soul itself. Drops drift into the beast’s mouth, a cavernous throat below the dark surface. The mirage catches him with tender fingers, promising warmth in the hard tracks of snow. Shadows envelop the frigid air. Breath puffs up in a stack of smoke from the faulty furnace. Bones ache, creaking under the bulge.

A lone bear plods through the trees with the woman on his back, vision failing to capture the essence that drove them out of his bed. Light streams, dancing through the swaying branches onto the world below in fleeting white pillars. Milk of the moon creeping through the trees. He roams the valleys and glades, slopes and trees of this hidden kingdom.

In the darkness it shows itself, hiding only what it was from the ploring eyes. He walks between two trees, beside a broken swing screeching in the wind. Rain falls in streams on his head and back-and he lets it. With no resistance, he slides into the arms of everything that passes. Through tangled webs, dew across a sea of vines, he heaves across the wooded landscape, coming to the full reality of his playground.

Wind whistles through the trees and lightning flashes. An orange glow penetrates all his windows, reflecting moods in a time with no remorse. Blood, cold as ice trickling through his veins, creeps through the labyrinth. The walls and scratches have all changed to fit the mold of one old before his time. Claws grope the frozen soil, climbing the roots in search of food. The ground leaves a frozen stretch to numb the flesh to tears.

He scans the trees, eyes probing all for some sort of warmth to caress the appetite.

Shigeru crouches in the hole of a tree, shivering as the winter of life stares him down. Through the cracks in its prison, a savage cry rises up from the gullet, piercing the beast into remission.

A distant star shines down through the trees, creeping through the dark fingers, leaves, and the smell of smoke.

He falls back on his bed. Cold wind chills his blood, creeping through his veins like a slow moving stream. Heat hiding beneath the skin of the beast binds him, strangling his organs with expert fingers. The bear calls his name over and over again in his mind, slipping through frames in a kaleidoscope of images. Reels ever running flash a line of photographs, ripped, melted pictures swirling before his closed lids.

Hands stroke him, touching his face, chest, and arms with fingers like gnarled branches. Shigeru opens his eyes, watching the fingers-cold and translucent. The woman is inside the tree, touching him with pale flesh, almost completely transparent. The ground and the trees shine through, quivering in a milky sort of haze when viewed through the new lens. The photographs reappear in her hands, twisting, contorting in a dance as they crackle over her skin. They disappear as fast as they’d returned. Like a TV reception from another planet, the distance is there instinctively. The images pull at him, trying to close the gap, becoming as much a part of him as they are of her.

The woman says nothing. She keeps her eyes low, refusing to look at his face, even as her hands move up. Her lips mouth a silent song as she moves her head back and forth. Hair falls in her face but she makes no move to brush it away. Only her mouth is visible now. The image burns, pushing his eyes away. The mouth is not ugly, but is despised all the same, forbidden and cast down. To look at it feels like catching her naked.

Shigeru tries to pull away from her. He’s been trying to free himself all along but the jerking, snakelike movement of her hypnotizes, paralyzing his limbs. He’s stunned, mute from her poison. Submerged in a scream so far down that it will never make its way up. All of his strength fails to summon a twitch.

Her hands stop. She senses a change in his blood, telling her fingers what his mouth cannot. She wrapped him up with her hands, binding him like a spider into her web. But now that the task is finished, her whim changes. She pushes him back, hard, and with a deep guttural groan.

The tree no longer rests against his back. There’s nothing there when he falls backwards-just an open space, a draft, and a deeper darkness closing in. Only the night, the ground, and the woman glowing dim in the shadow remain.

He crawls backwards on his hands and feet, hurrying to avoid her touch. She grunts, almost screaming, and then her voice falls into a steady groan. Hurt but no longer angry, as if nursing an old but persistent wound. Her sounds echo though there’s nothing solid.

Shigeru screams, his limbs turning to jelly. He stops, falling flat on his back, letting his mind escape his body in a trance. He closes his eyes, giving himself up to be touched, and she screams louder. His eyes open, trembling as her hands hover over him. But she won’t touch him.

The woman grunts, speaking too soft to understand. She pushes him back with her hands held high above him, a force gushing from her palms that drags him away from her. The woman chants, sliding his body forward along the ground as she stares at him. She is an animal, more and more in the shadows, and so is he. Shigeru closes his eyes again, closes his thoughts, feelings, and awareness-losing all sense of being alive. He forces on himself a sleep, promising not to awaken. Like water into a stream, he pours himself out to her.

§

Akiko stands on the platform, wind tossing hair around her shoulders. The subway slips like a python through the long, dark tunnel. A group of men with cameras and camcorders stand watching, smiling, and narrating their footage. Feet shuffle behind her. They crowd around the platform- yawning, playing with cell phones, and clutching briefcases. Chatter echoes off the metal walls.

The subway’s eyes bathe them in a bright orb as it churns over the tracks, rumbling, thumping a psychotic heartbeat. It slows, grinding to a stop. The doors open, rivers of flesh pouring from the metal mouths. Some run out, others drag their feet like zombies. The lines thin, and Akiko steps on shoulder to shoulder with suits.

Perfume and cigarette vapors fill her nostrils. White light floods the subway, a sharp contrast to the dark underbelly beyond the windows. Eyes stay pulled to the floor, plotting a careful course, an unspoken code forbidding any more than a glance at anyone else. A few spin their heads around anyway, eyes darting like flies, looking at everything too fast to see anything. An old man sits down, opening his newspaper. Two teenage girls lean against the wall, staring at their phones. A group of boys crowds in front of Akiko, laughing and pointing at a magazine. A sea of anonymous faces stare out into nothing all around, expressions like curious, smiling, anxious statues, frozen in a time when they all felt alive.

She sways back and forth as the subway starts again, bodies nodding like grass in the wind.

Akiko’s eyes weigh heavy. She nods off, lost in a dark and noisy void. The swaying jolts her a moment later and her eyes fly open. She tosses in a bed of sound and motion, like a bug with a foot constantly in front of it. Nowhere to go, nothing to see. Akiko closes her eyes and they fly back open. She fights to keep them open and they droop shut.

My own body working against me, she thinks.

A sea of hands clings to the rungs on the ceiling. A man in an expensive suit who looks more like a jeans and beer shirt guy stares at his reflection in the window. His brow wrinkles and he winces as he watches himself.

Akiko shivers and sits down on a cold, red seat that looks like something stolen from a fifties diner. The plastic squeaks loud under her jeans as she shifts further against the window. She looks around to see who’s noticed but no one looks back at her.

People rush past on the other side of the window like creatures in an alternate universe, separated from her existence by a wall of metal. Colors fly across the glass like a movie playing too fast to understand. Their world disappears. Time flashing before her eyes. She wonders if they’re real, if they’ll disappear forever as soon as they pass. She wonders if they wonder too.

Sunlight streams into the cafeteria from the big wall to wall windows. Beams fall across rows of sticky brown tables like the towers of light the angels always descend from on TV. Chatter fills the room, ringing in Akiko’s ears as bookbags brush her arm. The room still smells like breakfast. The Study Hall class settles into their seats, giggling, frowning, yawning. Preppies. Jocks. Art students. Goths. The insanely smart kids. Band. The in-betweeners. People divide into groups with several seats between each separate crowd.

Akiko sits by herself, watching the boy.

The Study Hall monitor stands at the front of the cafeteria, watching them. He waits for everyone to sit down and then calls for quiet. After half a dozen “Alright”s and “Quiet”s they hear. The room falls silent save a few giggles and whispers in the back. He calls their names, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls like a lone cry into a cave as he stares at the sheet.

Akiko leans forward, her shoulders tight.

He calls her name, still staring at the sheet. She raises her hand, waiting for him to look up.

“Akiko!” he calls again.

A giggle comes from the back.

After a long pause he looks up and sees her hand. “Here?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

The giggle grows louder and she puts her hand down, flushing. After everyone finishes mumbling ‘Here’ he shoves his sheet back into the folder and walks towards the wall.

“The Study Hall room is being used for testing this morning. Being in the cafeteria is not an excuse for volume. You can talk but keep it down or you won’t talk for the rest of the class.” His voice fades before the end of the sentence as if he knows his warning is futile. The words drown in the din that follows, sucked into a black and meaningless void.

The boy sits in one of the in-between crowds. She was an in-betweener too, when they sat together. He passes a notebook around to several guys, laughing. His laugh is really loud, almost too loud. They push each other, chuckling, faces red.

What could possibly be that funny? Akiko keeps her eyes nailed to him, her shoulders so tight it hurts. Her knuckles ache and she unclenches them, realizing for the first time that they were in fists. Tears that won’t fall collect behind her lids.

“Hey,” a voice comes from behind. A boy sits down next to her, tossing his bookbag onto the table. He slumps down, sighing, and looks at her.

“Hey,” Akiko smiles. She looks away, then back again.

“Your name’s Akiko?” he asked.

“Yeah. What’s your’s?”

“Shigeru. You sit behind me.”

“Oh, yeah…I think I remember. I’ve only seen the back of your head. ‘Til now, I mean.”

Stupid, she thinks.

He laughs. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Your name means ‘to flourish’, right?”

“Huh?”

“Shigeru. It means ‘To flourish. To grow luxuriantly.’”

“Oh…I don’t know about that. I don’t exactly flourish.” He laughs. “But that’s cool. My mom named me. I guess moms are supposed to think stuff like that about their kids…How old are you?”

“Fourteen. You?”

“Seventeen. Ninth grade, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Six classes?”

“Mm-hm. Do you have six?”

“Five.”

“Oh, lucky.” she smiles. “What classes?”

“Pre-Cal. English. I like my English teacher, she’s crazy.” He laughs. “Psychology. I hate that class. Study Hall. Biology.”

“I bet you have Ms. Willis for Psychology, right?” Akiko asks.

“Yeah.”

“I have her for homeroom. She’s nice. She tells us these stories about how she partied in college. She said she used to drink and dance and cut up a lot at parties. Before she got her ‘life together,’” Akiko says with finger quotes.

Shigeru laughs. “I can see her drinking but definitely not dancing.”

“I know, God, that’s gross. She weighs a ton,”

Shigeru shivers and smiles.

“I bet she danced on the table. Wooo.” Akiko says, throwing her hands up.

“More like, ‘Timber!’” Shigeru laughs.

Akiko shakes her head, laughing. “Scary.”

“What’s your family like? Are your parents strict?” he asks.

“I live with my mom, dad, and older sister. I don’t really get along with my family. They’re pretty strict when they’re involved with what I’m doing. A lot of times they really don’t care at all though. What about you?”

“My parents are okay. I have three sisters and two brothers,” he chuckles. “I think my older brother’s on drugs.”

Akiko smiles.

They look around at the windows and the table. Listen to the voices. Fumble with the zippers on their bookbags.

Shigeru takes a notebook out of his bookbag and opens it, flipping through the papers. Akiko watches him, his eyes pouring over math worksheets that look like a totally foreign language.

“What math do you have?” he asks.

“Math Tech 1.”

“That’s for technical college, right?”

“Yeah,”

“You didn’t sign up for Algebra 1?”

“No. Math Tech 1 is really easy. I can pass that without any problem.”

He rolls his eyes. “You can do better than that. You should have tried something more challenging. You can’t get into a university with tech courses.”

You can do better than that. Akiko thinks. That class is really easy? God, he must think I’m a total slacker.

“You’ve got really hard classes.” She says, trying to smile.

Akiko watches him finish his problems for a moment and then looks away at the boy. Still laughing like everything in the world is so incredibly funny. She looks back at Shigeru. “You’re left-handed.”

“Oh,” he smiles. “Yeah.”

“Me too.”

“Did you know only one in five people is left-handed?” he asks.

“Cool. We’re special, huh?”

We’re special? God, that’s so stupid.

Shigeru laughs. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

He turns back to his worksheet.

Akiko stares at the cursive ‘Shigeru’ monogram on his L.L. Bean bookbag. The voices grow louder for a moment, then softer. She looks away again-the sound, colors, light, and movement falling in and out like the waves of a raging sea.

He’s not one of those guys who wears some thick cologne to school.

Somehow that means something though it’s not entirely clear what.

The bell rings.

Shigeru slams his notebook and sighs. He looks at her as she gets up and grins. “Good luck.”

Akiko smiles back, pausing a moment to take him in. “’Bye.” She says, walking towards the door.

A boy runs up to her. “Saw you talkin’ to that guy.”

“Yeah. You know him?” she asks.

“No. His name is something. It’s weird. I can’t even pronounce it.”

“Shigeru.”

“Oh yeah.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, ‘bye.”

Akiko nods, staring at the group by the door. Shigeru looks back at her, catching her gaze, and then he turns, disappearing into the crowd.

§

A cold rain roars against the glass. Students pour in from outside, water dripping from their coats. A few teachers stand against the wall, talking to each other in muffled teacher voices, one of them waving her hands. They glance back and forth from each other to the opposite wall, shaking their heads and raising their eyebrows.

In the middle of the library are about a dozen tables with cheap plastic covers. The students sit at the tables, talking, some of them lifting up on the plastic and then letting it snap back really loud. Nobody sits with their backs towards the front of the library; it’s so the librarians can monitor at all times.

In front of the tables are computers, and further ahead is a bulletin board with pictures of the top readers.

At the entrance is a security turnstile entrance that goes off and locks up for calculators and books from other libraries as well as books that haven’t been checked out. Some students sneak books into other people’s bags so that the alarm will go off when the walk through. Most have learned the trick though and keep an eye on their bags.

Akiko heads towards a line of shelves in the back. The back of the library has a deep calm to it. Mysterious. It’s like stepping into another world. One can get lost back there. It’s like stepping into a secret room where no one up front can see you. The only monitors are security cameras on the ceiling, watching patrons with their huge half globe eyes. There are rumors about how long they’ve been there, questions about if they still work. Nobody ever said exactly.

“Better not to have to find out.” She whispers.

Rain patters against the window, drizzling down slow like somebody spit on the glass. The books stare back at her, consuming her in an ocean of spines. A heavy feeling settles into her stomach, like having eaten too much though she hasn’t eaten at all. She drops her bookbag on the floor, staring at the shelves with blank eyes, not really seeing anything. She pretends to read, shifting her feet along the aisle to scan the titles, pretending for some invisible audience.

Akiko glances past the shelves to the computers at the front of the library, and spots him. His back is to her. He shifts in his private cycle, eyes intent on the bright screen without bothering to look up at anyone else passing by. She sighs, the heavy feeling collecting again, spreading through her arms, her chest, and her legs. Her eyelids grow heavy, though some nameless something inside fights to stay awake, to keep watching the world beyond her world, the actions that have nothing to do with what she thinks or what she feels.

Bodies swirl around the humid air, hurrying, talking, smiling, laughing. Bookbags line the tables, plastic covers snapping like a hand against flesh. The air smells like old books. Like a coffin of memories, knowledge, feelings long gone. Fighting to creep up from a layer of time so heavy it hurts.

“Hello.” A voice comes from behind her.

Akiko turns to a boy. “Hey,”

“Are you looking for anything?”

“Uh…Not really sure.”

“I can help you find it. Whatever book you want. I’m back here a lot. I can tell you pretty much where any subject is.”

“Thanks. I don’t really know though. I’m just…browsing, I guess.”

“Do you like science?”

“Yeah..Sure.”

“They’ve got really interesting science books. Especially astronomy. I’m reading a textbook about astronomy. It’s old but a lot of the stuff is still relevant. If you come back here about a week from now around this time, I’ll let you borrow it.”

Akiko glances back at Shigeru. “Yeah. Maybe I will. Thanks.”

“Look at this one,” he says, taking a book from the shelf. “This one’s a mess. I can point out a bunch of flaws. It’s got like a dozen of them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. It’s stupid. Don’t bother reading that one. I can feel myself getting dumber just looking at it.” He laughs so hard his face turns a little pink.

Akiko stares at him, her thoughts a void.

“So, have you made up your mind?”

“Made up my mind?”

“What book you want?”

“No. Not really.”

“Get this one.” He says, handing her an astronomy textbook. “I’ll bring mine for you too. Friday okay? Come back Friday around two and I’ll tell Christina at the desk to transfer it from my account to yours. Don’t forget, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Here, I’ll write it down for you.” He takes a scrap of paper and a pen from the side of his bookbag. “Keep it in the front pocket of your knapsack, okay? I’ll remind you where it is if I see you again. So you won’t forget.”

I don’t believe this guy. Akiko thinks, fighting a laugh.

He handed her the paper. Back of the library. Friday at two. My name’s George, it says.

“My name’s George.” He repeats.

“Akiko.” She says.

“Akiko. That’s Asian, right?”

“Yeah. Japanese”

“Are you whole Japanese?”

“Yeah. As far as I know.”

“So your parents are probably pretty traditional, right? Really strict about school?”

“No.”

“Do you speak Japanese?”

“No. No more than a few words.”

“Wow.”

“Wow?”

“I mean, it sounds like you’re really American. You guys have blended really well.”

“My family and I are American.”

“Well… yeah….” He says, turning his head away. “So can you come Friday?”

“If I can then you’ll see me here.”

“Do you need any more books?”

“No. I’ll just flip through this one.”

“Are you sure? You’re allowed up to three checkouts at a time. I usually use all three. No need to be modest.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Umm..” Akiko turns towards Shigeru, and then stares down at the book. “Actually I came here to see a friend. I’m waiting.”

“If you don’t want to talk to me you can say so. I’ve been turned down a lot, it’s nothing new to me. You’re not going hurt my feelings.”

“No…He’s already here. That’s why.” Said Akiko. “I’m sorry.”

“He? Who is he?”

“His name is Shigeru.”

“Shigeru. Is he Asian?”

Akiko fights to keep from rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll see you later, okay?”

“I’ve seen you in here a lot.” Said George. “I just waited until today to talk to you…”

Akiko shuffles her feet. The book leaves a dull ache in her wrists. “’Bye.”

“Friday, okay?”

“I’ll see you later…‘bye.”

Akiko walks to the front of the library, veering to the left towards a shelf. She glances behind her, making sure she is out of George’s line of view, and then peers over the tops of the books at Shigeru’s computer.

The girl standing next to him is tall and blond, with a pixie-like body. She laughs, pointing at his computer.

Akiko turns her head away a moment, trying to look at the books but her eyes gravitate back towards the open space.

She points at him, trying to talk, but she’s laughing too hard. He points back at her, grinning and saying something.

Akiko steps back, clutching the book. She stands there a moment, her eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. All of her weight collects in her legs, dulling the sense of feeling in her knees and in her feet. She tries to walk. Her feet move on their own, like a prerecorded path programmed for them long ago, too far back to remember just what it is for. The room feels only slightly familiar, like a place she’s seen in a dream but was too far away to ever seem real. Now she’s here, as if taken away to her dream, the nightmare relived where everything that seemed familiar is suddenly snatched away.

Akiko moves away from the shelves, towards the checkout desk. She keeps her eyes on the back of the book, scanning a blur of black and gray. Her wrists ache. She sweats despite the cold, feeling like a patient escaping down the hall of a psychiatric ward. She stands in the line, her eyes groping the door, waiting to check out. There’s only one person in front of her. He looks back and smiles at her. She curves her mouth, a desperate smile, and he walks away.

“Hey,” she whispers, stepping up to the desk.

“He gonna get his behind jumped if he don’t stop that mess. I told him not to say nothing’ back to them fools.” The girl at the desk laughed at a girl behind her.

She took Akiko’s book, scanned her ID and the barcode. She stared at the textbook.

“You gonna read this?” she asked Akiko.

Akiko shrugged. “Yeah, I-“

“Gone ahead and mess them cards up. See if I fix ‘em then. I done fixed ‘em one time.” She yelled at the girl behind her.

“I’m not doing anything.” The girl smiled. “You talk so country.”

“Thas cuz I is country!” The checkout girl shoved the due date card into the back of the book and slid it across the desk.

The bell rang. Akiko grabbed her book and headed through the turnstile.

§

Light falls against a shadowed path. White against the flesh fades in the gray. The woman’s tilted face cocks a smile and stares. Words unspoken dance across the shattered way, a light in the gloom, a last dance within his eyes. A glitter of tears hides behind the lids and they close.

Shigeru falls, crumbling, bleeding mad in places covered in the ash of a thousand tomorrows, a hundred years past. A symphony of silence screams up from the ruins. He falls through the winding gullet of dreams, his stare wailing into the darkness. It greets with open arms, wrapping around the shivering frame. He whispers a plea to nothing, no one, dead air choking his words to dust.

Shally oom. Shally ah. A strange bird sings at the window.

Spaces in the sky look down at seconds long gone. They tick tight around him, singing back a song he knew long ago but was no more. Dead until he found it in the gloom, the darkest of seasons shaping a new entity into the tattered form.

A black sheet consumes him, creeping forward to find him hiding behind a curtain.

He waits, the words on the tip of his tongue. All is silent but the hush of his breath against the damp drapes.

A screaming shadow tosses against the wall, watching him in a strain of light.

Shigeru looks out at a stage, the single spotlight, a center circle of white brilliance on the wood. She is asleep in the ring, every feature of a perfect face magnified in the glow. A female Adonis with only a circle to protect her.

The words are on his lips, waiting, waiting. A jagged breath fills his ears as new thoughts rush in. The shadow looks back and mocks, following his every trembling movement for him to see, all that he’s made of himself.

Desperation sweats from the insides out. Words catch in his throat, strangled by the icy fingers that slip, sliding tighter around his neck with each new second that he watches from his muted coffin at that single play of light, the only characters snatched away by words left unsaid. Thoughts scatter against the black, rolling plains unfolding between them. Stutters well up in the sureness of everything he’s ever felt before.

Born out of the light, the woman claws with ready fingers. Fangs gleam true in the glittering aura of dreamscapes lined with fantasy, a perfect whiteness to leave each point of their demise stained against the pale and tender. That fatal weakness, the foolishness, is mapped out in a dot to dot pattern for the child. Over and over the teeth pierce him, long after the life has gone limp. Lying together in a final embrace, dance of two lovers, their blood fuses. They can finally say how close they are, even if only in a distant, unrevivable dream. Together at last, numb hands to clutch the other, locked in an eternal, impenetrable gaze. Shigeru leans against the wall-waiting for the girl to see him, to think that even through his sobbing face there is an indescribable beauty underneath. Stars that can’t be numbered watch on with envy and protection.

But when he looks up, the girl is gone. Awakened and left, without ever noticing, leaving only the circle behind, still filled with her presence though the floor is cold and the air stale as unfeeling as the ancient embrace that clutched him. The ring is empty and waiting, filled with a holy light that he can’t touch. It never lets him look for more than a moment. He chases the sleeping phantom down the narrow alleys between the seats, scrambling at the floor for some mysterious thing lost.

§

She scratches a knee propped against the back of the chair, sweating. A tremble creeps its way inside-her arms, hands, and legs. She shoves a hand into her pocket, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Music fills the room, pounding drumming, thumping a new beat into her heart. People mill around the gym, talking, laughing, holding. Sunlight streams through the windows in the foyer of the gym as figures walk past, morning shadows, bobbing like ghosts haunting the memory of where they stood moments before.

Joyful Joyful echoes, bouncing off the walls, the floor, and the chairs. A voice tears its way inside, urging her forward, but she stays, watching them as if she may never see them again. They laugh, waving. Backs lean against the wall, bent with ease.

The piano in the middle of the court consumes her, weaving its magic into her eyes until she can’t help but watch, unblinking, the fingers. Mrs. Abernathy’s fingers look enormous, growing freakishly large against the keys, closing in on her as she gazes. Akiko’s fingers tap tap the rhythm on her knee, but she knows she must be off. Somewhere, somehow. The longer she stares the more she knows it.

Shigeru is in the crowd, reading. He puts his book down, reaches in his pocket for his glasses, and puts them on. Shigeru looks out at her, then at the piano, and back at her. His eyes plead with her, trying to get her attention with their penetrating stare, but for what it’s not quite clear.

I want to get out too. She wants to say. If that’s what you’re begging for, I want it too.

Bruce Springsteen’s voice overcomes the music, carrying her away with a rabbit trapped in her grasp-trembling, crying, screaming as it fades into oblivion. Magic. She goes with it-dimming, reappearing each time the words are repeated, only to fly away again though neither of them knows where.

The people look at her, look away, glance back again. It’s a game they play, each pretending not to notice.

Her hands are soaked with sweat. Something that defies all description flutters around inside, wrapping so tight, deeper than feeling itself.

“I can make it disappear…”

Snatches of chatter strain through the morning, the warmth, and light. They glance back at her, then away again as the rabbits fly from each other like dust in the wind. Magic.

§

Music filters through the stereo, filling darkness of the living room with a lone voice, the whispers of a piano calling her out of her corner. Akiko crawls across the carpet, towards the music, and grabs the arm of the couch. She pushes herself up, her head spinning. Dizziness collects in her arms, her legs and feet. She pulls forward, wandering the floor like a different planet, the shadows seducing her into their cold oblivion.

The glow of the porchlight filters in through the blinds. It falls on a mahogany table, dust gleaming in the light. A cat slips across the bars of white on the floor, disappearing into her bedroom. Norah sings to her, filling her mind with a sweet blankness as she soaks in her voice.
Akiko grabs the bottle of vodka off the table, pouring it down her throat with a violence her hand barely recognizes. She chokes a little, the sound of her voice over the melody shaking her.
Akiko stiffens, her face growing hot. She puts the bottle down, knocking it over in a struggle to let go, and then pushes on again. Her feet carry her into the shadows against the wall.

Coughing sounds up through the floor as she stands above her.
The dog whimpers, barking on and off.
Akiko turns the stereo all the way up until the floor vibrates.
The woman coughs, whimpers, falls silent, again and again in a morbid tango. Her body tosses between the sheets. The dog watches, backing away from her whistling cough. A picture of the two of them in the park sits on the table. There's another beside it, the dog in the backyard. A picture of Akiko is hidden in her socks and underwear drawer. She listens as Akiko paces the floor overhead. The sound of her steps lull her into sleep, and then just as quickly bring her back again. The floor creaks, over and over, the beating of its twisted heart writhing in the darkness with a cry that silences all others.

§

“What kind of books do you like?” Akiko asks.

“Fantasy. Dragon books. I like this one series over here,” he says leading her towards a shelf along the side of the wall. “They’re cool. It’s got a lot of magic, dragons, and sorcery.”

“Do you recommend any of them in particular?”

Shigeru grins, scanning the books with his finger. “This one,” he says after a moment. “This one’s the best. It’s the first one in the series. It tells how the group of friends who fight together meet, what their special powers are, and how they start fighting together. That’s the best one. I really like the imagery.”

Akiko stares at the dragon and the elven characters on the cover. She smiles, her face growing warm. “Looks pretty cool.”

“Yeah. I’ve read it like a half dozen times. I wish the others were all as good as that one.”

“How are your classes?” she asks.

Shigeru groans, and then smiles.

Akiko laughs. “That bad, huh?”

“I’ll get through it. Only a few more months anyway. Then I’m out of here. No more of this stupid school.”
“I thought you liked school,” Akiko says. “You’ve got all those hard classes and you still have good grades. It’s a breeze for you.”

“No, it’s still a pain,” he says. “I hate coming here every day. Nobody to talk to much. And it’s so boring.”

“You’ve got that girl to talk to.”

Shigeru stares at her. “That girl? Who?”

“You know who.” Says Akiko.

Shigeru raises his eyebrows.

“Skinny. Blonde.”

“Nicki?”

“I don’t know her name.”

“We’ve got English class.” He smiles. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” she says, a little too quickly. “You said you have no one to talk to. You have fun with her, right?”
“Nicki’s okay. What’d you do this weekend?”

“I watched Lord of the Rings.”

“Which one?”

“The first one.”

“You’re just now seeing that one? Where have you been?”

“What did you do?”

“Watched TV. Played video games. Did homework. Sound exciting?”

“Not really.”

“It’s more fun than watching the first Lord of the Rings.”

“I went to a ten-year-old girl’s birthday party. She had a Harry Potter party. We went to go see the movie together. This guy in the car kept playing Eminem cds that skipped like crazy. The whole thing was kind of boring.”
“What were you doing hanging out with ten year olds?”
Akiko is silent.

“You don’t like Harry Potter?” Shigeru asks.

“Not really.”

“Harry Potter’s awesome. The magic and special effects are cool.”

Akiko stares at the book as Shigeru thumbs the titles. He picks out a third book, and then walks away. He walks up to the desk and leans forward, smiling at the girl at the counter.

He’s big. She thinks, looking away. Kinda fat.

The flush in her cheeks faded as she stands there, staring at the fantasy series. The library stocks a lot of them-nearly three shelves full. They are the kind of books with maps of made-up worlds on the front covers, descriptions of fairy villages, elf princesses, and forbidden love between dwarves and humans. Places where public schools don’t exist, love is bound to conquer, and anyone who fails to follow the rules is struck down with a single stroke of a knight’s sword. Akiko stares at him, wondering which character he fancies himself as.

The bell rings. She heads towards the checkout counter behind the flock of students, keeping her eyes on him until he’s gone, sliding through the turnstile like a ghost disappearing into the darkness.

§

Akiko walks into the stark cold whiteness, a chill creeping all over. The walls are grey and circular, tunnels opening up in the walls to reveal the black behind, snaking like twisted, manic arms, stretching out into nowhere. Lights beam down, revealing the incredible cleanness of the station, the reflections of the sleeping bodies forming fuzzy masses beside where they lie. A silhouette walks along the walls and she turns, startled, only to realize it’s herself.

The homeless lie on the side wall, sleeping on strips of cardboard, everything they own in the world tucked in little bags and piles beside their beds. Some have houses of cardboard, others strips of boxes that disappear under the sleeping bodies. Someone in the back coughs, tossing under the blanket. A man snores and someone beside him whispers. A little girl lies curled up, sleeping beside a woman with many layers of clothes on. They don’t have a blanket.

Akiko walks past them, staring, trying to be quiet. They seem to sense her, like a cat senses a grasshopper though it barely moves through the grass. Heads turn to watch her too, their eyes asking her what she wants, what she has, what she’s willing to give away.

Her phone rings, breaking the silence with a soft but somehow shrill plea. She glances at the caller ID screen in her hand, groans, and presses the button.

“Hey,”

“Hey, you forgot about Friday.”

“Oh…God… I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal. I was waiting kind of a long time, but not really long. Well, you probably wouldn’t have thought it was long…”

“Do you need something?”

He falls silent. She feels his expression over the air waves, the twist of his mouth, his eyes darting like two crazy blue marbles.

“Umm…what are you up to?” he asks

It’s a stupid, desperate question. What are you up to? It’s obvious that he either doesn’t have much to say or is working up to something else.

“Walking around. What about you?”
“I’m at school.”

“Already?”

“Yeah. My mom always brings me here early…Well, actually I kinda make her bring me early. I like to make sure I’m not going to be late. You never know what might happen. It’s not like she has to bring me early. I ask her too.”

“Getting your homework done?”

“Huh? No. I’m sitting here waiting. Mr. Morgan isn’t here yet.”
“Mr. Morgan?”

“He’s the janitor. He’s usually the first one here and I’m the second so he always lets me inside. I’m the first one at school today though so I have to wait for him to unlock the door for me. Sometimes he’s late. He’s usually on time though. I hope he’s not sick…Sometimes his wife or his kids get sick. Maybe they’re sick today…I hope not. Anyway, I have to wait until he comes and unlocks the school for me.”

Oh…my…God, Akiko thinks, fighting a laugh.

“Where are you walking? You said you were walking, right? I mean…you are…, right?”

“Yeah, around the subway.”

“Now?”

“Well you’re at school now, Jesus. You shouldn’t be so surprised if I get up early too.”
Another long silence. Akiko feels the words stinging him like a thousand hungry knives. “Are you cold?” she asks.

“A little. I’m alright, though. I don’t let stuff like that bother me.”

“Good.”

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something. I mean… I do…want ask you. Now.”

“Okay.”

“There’s a dance coming up. Have you heard about it? It’s tonight.”

“Oh yeah,…prom.” Oh, Jesus. She thinks. That’s what this is about.

“Are you going?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I’m not really a prom person. I’m the same with any kind of party or event, really. Loud music. People. I just don’t do well. I can’t see myself having much fun at something like that.”

He sighs. “Trust me, I don’t dance either. Loud music and lots of people are annoying. They always play something popular and thoroughly stupid. Then everybody bumps into you in the crowd and steps on your feet. Or makes fun of you. I don’t even like punch or those snacks they always have. Communal food bowls…everybody sticking their hands in there. That’s nasty.”

“So you’re not going either?”

“I hope we can at least try it. For something to do. I won’t ask you to do anything embarrassing, like dance,” he laughs.

“Even if we don’t like it, I’ve got a car. We can leave.”

“Let me think about it, okay? If I don’t have anything else to do, then fine.”

“Do you have anything else to do?”

Akiko bites her lip, cornered. “Not that I know of now. Let me talk to my parents first.”

“I’m not going to try and make you go. Just, if you want to…I want to. I wanted you to know that.”

“Okay. I’ll give you a ‘maybe’.”

“A maybe?”

“Yes.”

He laughs. “That’s good enough for me.”

Akiko watched him cross the parking lot, the reflective strip on his book bag glittering in the dim morning light. He looks back at her, lifts his hand, and she waves back. He walks towards a group of guys laughing and throws both of his hands up at them. They shout at him to come over and he runs towards them.

“Hey!”

Akiko turns around. George runs towards her.

“There you are.” He says.
“Hey George,”

“This is my friend, Michael,” he says pointing to a guy in a wheelchair beside him.

“Oh, yeah, I know Mike!” Akiko smiles at him.

“Me and Akiko were in third grade together,” Mike says.

“Mike was a clown the whole year,” Akiko says.

“ ‘Member Mrs. Collerin?” Mike asks.

“Yeah!” Akiko laughs. “Everybody called her Mrs. Hollerin ‘cause she yelled so much. Even the teachers sometimes. She had all that make-up too. She looked like she just came out of a circus act every morning.”

Mike laughs. “Did you know she retired last year?”

“Really? God, hallelujah! She needs a break. She’s so stressed out all the time, like she hates everybody. I learned more about what not to do than anything else from her.”

“Yeah, me too! She’s scary, like some monster disguised as a teacher. She got married too! I’m surprised anybody wanted to marry her. That would be pure torture to wake up next to her every morning. She’d probably be like ‘Fix your own stink’n breakfast’ or something.”

Akiko laughs. “I know! Poor guy. She definitely brainwashed him.”

“They’ll get a divorce soon. Or he’ll kill himself.”

“Did you get your math homework finished, Michael?” George asks.

“Oh, yeah, part of it. Wanna see it?”

“No, I did mine too. I was just wondering.” Says George.

“Hey, Mike, are you still throwing the freshmen over you wheelchair?”

Mike laughs. “Yeah! They think I can’t do anything because of my chair but they’re starting to learn better now. I pulled a freshman into my chair yesterday and knocked him into the trashcan. I tell ‘em, ‘When you get a number 12 on your badge, then you can do what I do.’”

“You better make sure the teachers don’t see you, Michael,” George grins.
“Man, they never see me,” he laughs. “They’re usually too busy talking to each other to care about anything else anyway.”

Akiko turns around. Shigeru stands on the outside of the group, watching them, his hands in his pockets. He laughs, but they aren’t talking to him. The pixie girl is with them. He watches her from the outside, waiting for a hole, a space to penetrate. Like a bug outside of the box, he waits for something to crack and break down so that he can make his way in.

The girl holds a compact up to her face, dabbing at her eyelids and laughing. Shigeru says something to her and she nods, the smile fading from her face. She turns back toward the group of boys, sliding the compact back into her glittery pink purse, and laughs with a tall boy across from her.

Shigeru glances at Akiko. An overwhelming urge washes over her to look away. She feels like she’s watching him get beat up, enjoying the pitiful show without the strength to help. But her eyes stay locked on him.

Finally it’s him who looks away, standing straighter now in the shadow of the rising sun.

“Akiko,”

Akiko glances back.

“You got the time?” Mike asks.

“Yeah,” she says looking down. “Five more minutes.”

“Better go if you’re going to have time to go to your locker,” George says.

“I’m going to the snack machine. Get my sugar fix.” Says Mike. “Sucks I can’t smoke anywhere out here.”

“They used to let people smoke at school a long time ago. I’m highly asthmatic though. I don’t think I could stand coming to school if they still allowed that here. All that smoke in the air-“

“You’ll be alright,” Mike laughs. “Just take it easy. Don’t let little stuff bother you.”

“Easy for you to say,” says George. “You don’t have any problems like that.”

Mike slaps his back. “I’ve got more problems than you’d ever want to know about.”

Akiko glances towards Shigeru, watching him head towards the building, and then turns back as he merges with the crowd.

Mike’s wheels crunch against the pavement as he pushes forward with his arms. He has an old fashioned wheel chair. No fancy buttons or automated controls. Not even a thick padded seat. His chair is thin with huge bicycle-like wheels. A red plaid blanket pads the back with a small gray pillow. His thick arm muscles pulse as he pushes himself towards the building, rolling almost as fast as a bike. She watches him fade into the crowd, and then looks around for Shigeru. Within a moment both of them have disappeared.

George stares at her. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Where’s your class?”

“A-Wing.”

“Mine’s in C-Wing”

“Yes, I remember. I’ll walk you.”

“You’ll be late. You’ve got to go to your locker too, right?”

“It’s okay. I don’t really care.”

§

My bookbag smells like roton pizza. Why day gum on here?

Akiko sits in the Study Hall chair, reading the seats in front of her. She grins at the questions hurled into the cosmos, the thoughts and feelings of the masses consuming all the flip down seats.

‘U R dum. No, U is dum. Stop da hatin’.

They were, no doubt, penned by students as desperately bored as she was in here.

In front of the room is a stage-like platform with computers and the Study Hall monitor’s desk. The carpet all over the room is strewn with bits of paper, food, and wrappers. There’s a small sign on the wall next to her seat. ‘No talking, phones, food, drinks, switching seats, touching the thermostat, music, laptops, or other electronic devices, note passing, sharing work, littering, writing on the walls, furniture, or otherwise defacing school property.’

Akiko stares at the sign, wondering how many people have actually noticed it.

The study hall monitor sits at his desk like the king of a very dirty kingdom, staring at his subjects, but precious little else.

Friday morning music (an oldies song one of the office ladies must have picked) cuts the musty air like a knife. “Cool Chris” and a boy with ‘I love school’ written on the back of his bookbag meet in the middle of the room with a loud ‘Wassup’, do a strange handshake, and walk away. Cool Chris adjusts his cap, puts his shades on, and swaggers back to his seat. A group of girls in the back laughs, pointing at him and rolling their eyes.

“Wassup, Sarah.” He says to a girl in the group.

Sarah laughs so hard she almost chokes.

Shigeru walks in, catches her gaze, and smiles. He stares up at the speakers blasting the oldies and furrows his brow, mouthing, ‘What the heck is that?’ to her. She laughs, throwing up her arms and he grins.

“Christopher, take the sunglasses off!” the monitor yells.

Akiko and Shigeru look back at Cool Chris and then at each other, sharing a moment of quiet, yet uncontrollable, hysteria.

She watches him walk to his seat. His left arm hang at his side while his right grips the strap of his bag. A lock of hair hangs in his face, drooping a little over his glasses. She wishes more than ever that she could actually draw. Or could take a picture without him (or anyone else for that matter) noticing.

The Study Hall monitor goes through the drill-stare, role call, stare, everybody stand for the pledge, send the attendance envelope to the office with a student, fix his eyes to stare for fifty more minutes.

Akiko takes out her notebook, trying very hard to draw the back of him. His hair and shoulders are visible. An occasional glimpse of his back as he leans over to rummage through his bookbag.

“Hey,”

Akiko turned around to Eric.

“Look at that girl Christina.” He said.

Akiko glanced at Christina and then, puzzled, back at Eric.

“God, she’s fat, isn’t she?” he laughed. “She said she moved here from Haiti. I bet she ate a whole village. That’s how her stomach got so big. Then they banished her here.”

Akiko smiles, waves her hand to dismiss him, and turns around.

She stares at the blob on her paper. It looks like those wave outlines of ghosts in cheesy comic books. God, she thinks, almost laughing out loud.

Laughter comes from the back of the room. Always suspicious, she thinks, turning around.

“Quit!” James yells.

A group of boys laughs like hyenas, throwing balls of paper at the back of his head.

“Mr.!” James shouts to the front. He, like just about everyone else, can’t remember the monitor’s name. It’s one of those names that’s like thirteen letters long and you never remember unless you practice saying it at least a dozen times. He doesn’t let anyone shorten it. It’s ‘Mr. Wolfeschlegel…something’ or nothing at all.

“What seems to be the problem?” the monitor shouted.

He’s always staring straight ahead. Does he have to ask? She wonders.

“They’re-” James starts.

“I didn’t do nothing.” One of the boys says.

Typical.

There’s a long pause.

The monitor furrows his brow, pointing his finger at them. “Settle down. I don’t want no problems, and if I don’t want no problems, then you don’t want no problems.”

Shigeru looks back, frowning in the direction of the boys. He glances over at Akiko, shaking his head.

‘That crap never works. He doesn’t care if it works.’ He mouths.

She shakes her head in agreement, waiting until he looks away, and then stares at her drawing.

Something small and hard hits a seat in the back.

Akiko turns around.

“Quit!” James yells.

Their girlish laughter pierces the air. A paper ball comes flying at his head.

“Quit ‘fore I blow your freak’n head off!”

Shigeru turns around again, first at them, and then at her.

“Oh my God,” she mouths to him.

He nods, frowning.

Akiko crumbles the blobby ghost page and stuffs it in her bookbag. She takes out another sheet of paper, drawing a rose in the center. She learned to do roses in third grade from her art teacher. Her teacher put one of her rose pictures on display with a big droopy ribbon, much to the awe of the rest of the class. She spent the rest of the year tutoring kids, at lunch, on the playground, and before class, on roses. She almost came to hate roses by the end of it but it’s the only thing in the whole world she could ever draw. Akiko draws a large one in the center and then fills the sides of the paper with a border of intertwining vines, thorns, and blooms.

“Cool”

Akiko turns around. Eric leans over the seat, staring at her paper. “That’s freak’n awesome. You can draw?”

“Not really.” She whispers.

He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head as he leans back in his seat. “Draw some for me some time.”

She smiles down at her page, her face growing hot.

The bell rings.

Akiko waits a moment, watching him.

He looks at her and she turns away, stealing just a few glances. She fumbles through her notebook, then through her bookbag, pretending to looking for something, for a reason she can’t at all fathom. Half the class is gone within the first thirty seconds and the rest are piled against the door. She zips her bookbag very slowly and sees him out of the corner of her eye, walking towards her.

“Hey,” he says, gripping a folded piece of paper.

“Hey,” she says.

“I like to write stuff… Nothing in particular, just all kinds of stuff… It’s interesting sometimes.”

“Cool. Me too.”

“Really?” he asks.

She nods.

“I was writing this morning. You wanna read it?” he says handing, her the paper.

“Yeah!” she says. It comes out so enthusiastic they both grin.

“You don’t have to say it’s great or anything. I mean, I want you to like it but you don’t have to respond to it.” He takes a few steps away and then pauses.

“Thank you,” she says. Without a second thought she digs into her notebook and takes her page out, handing it to him. It feels strange to hand him what, two seconds ago, she had no intention of showing anyone. But it slips out of her hand like water, like dropping something and thinking it’s an accident, but then realizing that it’s all too meaningful.

He looks at her, his eyes growing wide.

“I like to play around on paper a little too. I hope you like it.”

The words sound stupid coming out of her mouth, like a cliché line in a movie that you don’t immediately expect the actress to say but aren’t really surprised when she does say something like that. But he smiles and nods without looking at the paper right away. “Thank you,” he says.

He holds it with both hands, and then takes it in, staring at the drawing. She stares at it too through the other side of the paper, the way the ink bleeds through the thin page. It looks hard and forced from the other side, like angry lines that tried to rip their way through but only halfway succeeded.

He grins, shaking his head. “Thank you!” he says with a much richer voice.

She nods, wanting to get away, to hide away in private so she can read his words all by herself. But at the same time the dimple in his right cheek when he smiles, the way his eyes stayed fixed on her makes her, draws her closer.

“See ya… Good luck.” He says.

“Thanks. You too.”

§

Pass of time lingers

Stops in your arms forever

Each heart is breathless.

Waves of fire resound

Melodies of long ago

These passions cherished.

Yesterdays flee but

Radiant still they bind me

Raging bloom alone.

Akiko stares at Shigeru’s poem and then up at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The image is disturbingly clear, even in the dim light. Dark, sagging pouches of flesh hanging below her eyes. The Marge Simpson hairstyle is lopsided under the weight of the ornaments George’s mom had picked out for her. She picked out the style too.

His mom hated the dress the moment she saw it. They’d gone to the mall to get it and the shoes. “A dress, and shoes, and anything else you might want, of course,” Mrs. Smith had said over the phone. She had indeed picked out a dress, the first bra she’d ever owned, and some stockings.

Mrs. Smith surprised her by following her into the dressing room rather than waiting outside. Akiko stared at her a moment, growing hot all over, and his mom stared back. “Go ahead and undress, honey, let me see how it looks,” she’d said.

Mrs. Smith coughed several times, then said “Excuse me,” and took an inhaler out of her purse. She wheezed, her face turning red and sucked on the inhaler like a cigarette. She looked like somebody’s chain smoking grandma, smoking right down to the filter.

Akiko slipped out of her jeans and shirt revealing her bare body. Mrs. Smith stared at the jeans and t-shirt, no bra or underwear, and then frowned at her thin frame. Akiko slipped into the dress, and then peered around Mrs. Smith’s thick body at the mirror.

She looked like a whore in the dress. She’d admitted it from the beginning. There was something so desperate about how thin and short it was. It screamed ‘sleazy’ so loud that it was positively disturbing.

“Well…you’ve certainly got a nice figure, honey,” Mrs. Smith said, trying to smile.

She looked up at Akiko’s face and frowned. “Are you sure this is the one you want?”

Akiko stared at it, wondering how it was possible that she felt drawn to how small and exposed it made her feel. Some things can never be understood. It was awful, yet wonderful.

“Yes,” Akiko said, forcing a smile.

Akiko pulls her left spaghetti strap up. She tries to move her hair from the side of her head back to the center.

The bathroom is empty. There’ s something peaceful and yet terribly lonely about the empty room, the row of open stalls staring back at her in the mirror. It won’t be thirty seconds before another crowd of girls pours in again. They’d come once while she was using the restroom, laughing, talking loud, groaning about their dresses, make-up, stupid dates. She’d waited for them to leave, until the noise completely died down, and then slid out. They’d left all together. That was their way, the pack instinct, like a weird preppy take on the army. Never leave one behind.

Akiko groans, tugs at her dress, and walks outside.

The cafeteria is all done up for the prom. Strobe lights, loud hip-hop music blaring over the speakers. It’s dark and mysterious, like some weird party cave. About a million streamers hang from the ceiling and Chinese lanterns are strung out periodically from the rafters. The lights and the music make her feel dizzy, like she might faint. Or maybe she just wants to faint, to lose consciousness for just a moment in this strange and confusing place. It’s familiar, and yet it isn’t, not anymore. Not just because of the decorations or the music, but the feel of the room, everyone weaving through the crowd, dancing, laughing, the wallflowers asking her with their eyes if anyone will ever want to dance with them.

God, get me out of here, she thinks.

George walks towards her in a suit with tails and a top hat. She had forgotten until she saw him that she’d even ridden here with him. For a moment she can’t help but blame him for bringing her here. It was his idea.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hey,”

“All done?”

“Huh?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah,” she forces a smile. “Had to fix my hair, it’s still a little lopsided.”

“It looks fine,” He smiles, gesturing towards his suit. “Looks pretty cool, doesn’t it?”

Akiko grins.

“Akiko!”

Akiko turns around. Michael wheels towards her, a path clearing for his chair.

“Oh God,” George mutters.

Akiko frowns at him.

“Gimme a hug,” Michael says.

Akiko grins and hugs him. “You look good!” she says.

Michael holds her arm with one hand, the strobe lights flashing across the corners of glasses. “You’re beautiful,” he says, smiling.

“Hey, Michael!”

Three girls weave through the crowd towards Michael. They hug him, each one kissing him on the cheek. “Kiss him!” one girl laughs at Akiko.

Akiko shakes her head, smiling.

“Come on, we all kissed him.” She says. She stumbles a little, her eyes roaming around like two little bats through the darkness.

“She’s scared,” another girl grins.

“It’s okay. Leave her alone,” Michael smiles.

George takes her arm, pulling her back. “Do you want to come outside with me?”

Akiko leans in towards him. “Let’s stay in here a little longer, okay? At least we can have a some fun if we hang out with Michael.”

“You came to the prom with me, not Michael.” He whispers.

Akiko stares at him. “God, George, he’s your friend too.”

George sighs, tugging at the end of his jacket. “I don’t like it in here. I want to be alone with you.”

“Go outside if you want. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

George stared at her, searching her face, trying to read the truth to some implied secret in her eyes. He frowns. “This is crap,”

He walks away, disappearing into the sea of crowded, swaying body, his stiff walk an irony to the euphoria of the dance.

It’s obviously the first time he’s ever said anything that even remotely resembled a curse.

Michael stares at her. “Everything okay?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she says. “He’s ticked off.”

“Go see if you can talk him back,” he says, “It’s not right to just leave him like that.”

“He left me,” she says.

“George is okay, but he’s got a lot going on in his life,” said Michael. “He’s insecure. Pretty jealous too. Just let him know you still care and he’ll be alright.”

§

It wakes though its eyes are still closed, thoughts forming in pits to be spewed and swallowed gone by a night no one sees, not yet. The bear plods on, a hazy form in the distance. He rides the aisles, screeching, a furnace sliding over rusty metal floors through the fog.

Walking over the hollow ages, Shigeru seeks, finding the beast that marks the killing kind and its home in silence. Shigeru clutches the dark eyes of the fallen angel, making it his child. The scream of a woman, a train whistle, escapes the bear’s mouth, raping every silence. Shigeru yelps. A light falls and recedes across the tear stained cheeks. Eyes dart along the floor, an animal trapped in his own cage. Little is felt but the rage welling up from an endless cavern. The dark mouth spews shadows as the screams and rattle of chains rise up from the underworld. They echo inside the walls of his mind as it trembles and collapses. Shigeru falls, his head hitting the floor with a sound that quiets all others. His cold hands grow numb to the core. He shivers and rolls beneath the seats, a curtain of darkness.

The bear watches, teeth bared to threats unseen.

Shigeru stands unmoving. A glass window, an invisible bearing, thin with a strength struggling to stand, fogs up the worlds between him and the bear. Caught in the grip of an ever-changing wind, a hand clings to the weak edges. He watches the down below, not hearing the words so far away. His lips move, pleading in the silence.

The bear rises, feeding on the boy’s stare. His body is translucent like the woman now. A window tosses, turning the body in a place a monster to itself. Nowhere to run, the figures follow, reflecting a darkness that scorches the insides. Screams and wails fill a misty morning gray. Snatched by the sick into the churning deep. Foam gushes up from the bear’s mouth, utterance of the underworld, consuming the work of a child’s hands.

Shigeru gets up and paces the floor. He peers through the cracks, watching the shadows float in time below. Hands emerge from the pus, scratching at the floor with sliding fingers.

Faces appear in the dark, looking upon the scene with glazed eyes. Nothing is behind the masks but the desire to see beyond their present means, to gain a piece of charring remnants. Wishes that clutched their souls slide into the chutes of forgotten. Flames consume these thoughts until they fade beneath layers of ash unseen, unidentified, leaving only a ghost of what was.

Floating, contorted from lack of dreaming, they drift down their dark alleys, a land of long ago. Wind through the trees sways over flesh like glass, frosted in the winter air. Faces bulge against the glass, twisting their reflections. Eyes crack the conscious from their frames. The bear cackles as the moans rise up from the pits of the undead, drawn up from the grave only to hurl themselves once more into the shadows.

Shally oom. Shally ah. The strange bird sings a lullaby overhead, telling her secrets and long, weeping whispers to the night. She wails back to him all he meant to say. Gnashing of sorrows against a frail lens shatters Shigeru’s vision into a sea of fragments, darkening his gaze for the clouds overhead. Omens of a ghost too scared to flee, a cloud full of guttural groaning.

Thoughts weigh on his mind, moist against his cheeks. Shally oom. Shally ah screaming down from idols in the dust. Glimmer turns to grey with the steady decay of time.

Shigeru watches the bear walking towards him down the aisle, the seats, wall, and floor visible through his body.

The bird swoops down, landing on the bear's back, pecking. The bear roars, tossing its head. Teeth flash, fangs ripping the air as he reaches for the bird. The bird flutters up, growing as it circling the bear.

A massive shadow appears against the wall, swooping down as it pierces the thick hide. The bear spins, tossing his neck back and roaring each time it lands. Blood streams from his fur, puddling at his feet. The woman screams from the bear's mouth, chanting something indistinct.

Clouds loom over fields of white, searching for one last foothold in the eternal. The bear’s face slipping through a sea of frigid blooms that wants to tear out his eyes.

Shivers clothe Shigeru like a lover’s fears, still denied until the last kiss leaves them breathless. The fall shakes him to the core, twisting its knives into his back.

Lights slip past, bars through the darkness, crawling on through orbit, only to come back again against the black ‘scapes, mirages of islands fusing for a moment’s necessity then breaking apart.

The bear stops and collapses a few yards away. He screeches, dimming to little more than a cloud, then disappears.

§

Akiko pushed through the crowd towards the double doors of the cafeteria and shoves one open. The sidewalks in the courtyard are red from the glow of the lanterns. Lights and lanterns hang from the trees and bushes, swaying in the wind. Multicolored blotches, reflections from the lights, quiver on the huge windows of the cafeteria. Streamers hang from the trees, the railing, and the building making the wonderland look like a teepeed yard.

"Aw, hecks nah, you ain't goin' nowhere!"

Akiko turns around.

The Southern girl from the library pulls at a boy's arm, dragging him back towards her.

She looks around for George but he’s nowhere to be seen. The sea of lights and the stupid song playing inside make her want to crawl into the shadows and never come out.

Shigeru lies on a low cement wall in the far corner of the courtyard.

She steps closer, watching him through the lights and he stares back at her. A girl in a shimmery pink dress runs up to him, squealing, and bends down to hug him. She wraps her arms around his neck, laughing.

He pulls away, speaks to her, and then waves goodbye.

Akiko walks across the courtyard and past the school building until the music is just a faint echo from the cafeteria. She heads towards a sandy patch at the edge of the woods and stops.

§

Shigeru looks up. The ceiling is gone. The bird soars above, piercing the cloudless sky, blue as the currents of rippling tears rising up to an infinite deep. Hands dance across the open, air sifting between the fingers, wrapping it in a smooth embrace.

The bird carries on towards a sweet smell, the rippling outline of a mountain overhead. Tears wash away the noise, sight. Through the dark, musty film, light creeps in to overtake.

Shigeru wanders, a dim quivering frame, through the aisles of the theater, walls to hold the wounded animal back. He travels backwards along the rows, sliding rails, then turns, spinning, watching them change directions in an instant. Too tired to move or think much more, he walks to the doorway of the box. Weary arms dangle, eyes slugging over the landscape as he pushes forward towards the door.

§

Akiko stares at the ground, nudging the dirt with her foot. Her arms are folded so tightly around her that her arms and chest ache. Her knuckles turn red then white as she squeezes her eyes shut, letting the tears roll down her cheeks and the nape of her neck.

Footsteps come up from behind. She lets her arms drop, wiping her cheeks with the edge of her sleeve.

Shigeru walks towards her, the sound of his sneakers barely makes a whisper against the leaves.

He stands beside her and touches her back, stroking her shoulder.

“Out for a walk?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” he says.

Shigeru takes her hand. They walk together into the shadows, drops falling across their faces. Akiko’s throat closes, her breath trapped in her chest.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah. Awesome…George went to go talk to some friends.”

“Really? He didn’t want you to come along?”

“I didn’t wanna go.”

Shigeru smiles. “My friends don’t care either. We were all going to come hang out together but they were smoking again. Jack and Nicki are out like a light together, lying on the living room floor.”

“Is that supposed to be romantic?”

He draws a line in the dirt with his foot. “I guess so. But it’s just sad and gross. You’ve never seen anything like that have you?”

“No,”

He frowns. “I hate it.”

Shigeru takes off his jacket and lays it on the ground, motioning for her to sit.

She smiles her thanks and they sit down together, shrouded in the dark and silence. Only the sound of their whispers rises above the night. They shiver, leaning in close, body pressed against body for warmth. She lays her head against his chest as they lean against the tree.

He closes his eyes and they fall silent, soaking up the stillness. A song with no need for lyrics emanates from the night. His breath against her hair, her breath against his skin, flesh against flesh, clinging to each other for something solid, the one thing that will never float away. He holds her against a wind that will sweep her away. She’s a dream, a flash of pale skin against the night. Visible for a time, but only for a short while before she will be gone forever. She clings to him with trembling fingers, gripping his shirt until her knuckles turn white. She whimpers and chokes back a gasp as her whole body shakes. He strokes her arms, kissing and whimpering into her hair.

Shigeru cries with her, their sobs melting into each other until they’re so conjoined that neither is ashamed anymore. Their voices fuse, blending into a savage wail that echoes into the nights and then quiets into little more than a whisper. They can no longer tell where one voice ends and the other one begins. The harmony of sorrows flung against the sheet of black is so compatible in feeling that the tones match with little effort. They twist into a single solid thread, weaving through the tattered cloth to mend every hole, every feeling that nothing will last. He holds her until his arms ache, and then releases her.

She leans against his chest, tears drying into streaks across her face. She stands up and takes his hands, pulling him to his feet. They stay there a moment, staring into the night, realizing that it will be the last they see of it until morning. It will never be the same as it is at each moment, the memories still fresh, drenched in the air, the wind, the silence that pulses all around them and through their skin like a second heart, fighting to take over.

He kisses her, nudging something inside of her awake, his breath against her cheek. He puts his arms around her, talking, laughing, kissing in a way they so quickly learned to perfect. Akiko burrows her face into his chest. Her hair falls across his face as she kisses him, caressing his hands, his face, and his chest.

Shigeru pulls back a little and stands. She stares at him, confused. He pulls her to her feet, holding her hand, and leads her towards the woods. Akiko lets go, laughing, and runs ahead. He chases her, running into the trees after the thin red dress. They dance, barefooted, through the mud and puddles, laughing and lifting their faces to the sky. Rain pours down to christen them, rolling down their hair and skin. Their clothes stick to their bodies as they stand there, drenched in the rain, the tears hidden behind her lids as she watches him.

Akiko falls silent. A savage cry echoes through the caverns of her soul. Groans fight to make their way to the surface, each dying away, one by one, before a voice can find them.

They clutch each other’s hands, running into the shadows of trees.