It’s just beems and me hanging out on the old stairs by my house. The city’s been through since the last time, painted everything over again. They’ve left us fresh surfaces.
Beems jerks his head at the wall next to us. He’s smiling. He can’t hear the strumming that’s been in my head all day. When I try and listen it gets worse.
“You hear guitars?”
He shakes his head.
I try to shut it out, think of other things, but today it’s louder than my thoughts. Hasn’t stopped.
I drop my board and it clatters on the concrete, rolls into the wall next to me. The noise temporarily obscures the guitars.
I pull a paint pen from my bag and shake it: thack thack thack thack.
I go to write my name, PLUGZER, on the wall, but the noise makes my name come out wrong, a terrible song in my head. Beems watches me, tapping a marker against his leg.
He sees me screw up, so he laughs. I can barely hear him, but I know.
I want to shake, spin, jump, do something, pound my head, break my ears, but instead I try and stay still to watch as Beems pinches the pen cap between his lips. It sticks out like a lizard tongue as he tosses up a perfect BEEMS.
“Balance,” he says around the cap, his words barely penetrating. “You gotta keep it balanced.”
I want to trash his tag, but it’s a masterpiece just like everything he does. Beems’s real name is Julio and he’s been Genius Boy since we were both in preschool. He doesn’t go to Belmont like the rest of us. He goes to County Arts.
I shake my pen again. Thack thack thack thack. The noise becomes a drumbeat.
I toss up a PLUGZER on another section of the stairs. I look up at Julio when it’s done and he nods. It’s better.
“Where’s Mousie?” he asks.
“Watching her niece.”
I unfold my screen to check the time. It’s nearly six and if I don’t get home my mom is going to blow it up.
I stand up, the guitars fade, then rise with me.
“Watch out, scared boy.”
I turn to see who’s talking and accidentally kick my board. It crashes all the way down the stairs, skidding onto the street below.
Julio looks up at me. “You okay?”
“Who said that?” I start to ask, but I don’t finish. I swallow the end of the sentence and try to play it off. The voice didn’t actually sound like a person’s voice at all and anyways it’s just Beems and me here.
“Huh?”
I don’t answer him.
“It’s about time.” The voice is hollow, like a ghost or a dream and even though it’s loud—louder than the guitars—I don’t feel it in my ears. She’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “Be ready to run, scared boy. Strange days are here and you’re gonna run away.”
“Shut up,” I whisper before I can help it. I don’t even look at Beems after I say it. “I need to get home.” I hate the fear in my voice.
“Been waiting for you, scared boy, gonna get you ready to run!” The voice is right there, talking in both ears, moving from one side to the other, drowning out even the guitars.
I shake my head hard to try and get her out.
“Shut up shut up!”
Beems stands. He’s staring.
The voice pushes at me. “Beems won’t help you, Plugz. It’s all been seen and done. He’s going to try and get you. Trap you, but he can’t stop what’s already been seen, boy. You’re gonna run away, runaway!”
I back up the stairs and turn toward home.
“What about your board, man?” Julio reaches out to steady me, but I can’t shake what the voice said. I push his hand away and run.
“Run away!” the voice yells, but her words aren’t coming in through my ears.
“Shut up!” I yell it in every direction while I run so she’ll know I’m yelling at her. “Shut up shut up shut up!”
Silence. I wait for her to say something, but everything is quiet. Even the guitars are scared of her. When I reach the gate to my house, I stand and wait some more.
Nothing.
Eventually I go inside.
I’m scared, sure, but I don’t wonder what’s happening anymore. Hearing the voice makes it pretty clear.
I’m going to be just like my uncle Chuy.