Hands were on me, pumping my sternum in earnest as water pushed itself out of my lungs and into Mace’s hand as if it had been summoned there.
Nik’s wet hair was the first thing I saw, and then his worried face as he turned me on my side to cough up the rest of the fluid. People were talking to me, but I didn’t have it in me to answer. I simply laid there in my jeans and bra, curled up in the fetal position and watched as the world reintroduced itself to me. Jens was next to Jamie, who was coughing like he’d been the one dunked underwater. Uncle Rick was farther away, running a sopping wet Britta from the brook toward our destination as she wept.
“They’re alive! Let’s move!” Foss ordered. He hoisted Jamie up, and motioned for Jens to be a crutch for the prince’s other arm.
Nik lifted me up off the ground and carried me like a baby as he ran us in their direction. Charles carried Henry Mancini behind us, horror washing over his face.
Everyone was a mess of emotions, but I felt nothing. My face was blank as Nik carried me, running for over a mile. I should have been embarrassed at my partial nakedness. I should have been crying at the hands that I could still feel on me. I should have had some sort of reaction, but all I did was watch Nik’s wet white-blue hair flapping and sparkling in the breeze. I could see his fear, but I was immune to it, completely checked out from reality.
Nik ran at full speed until the brook disappeared and we were surrounded by old fashioned German-looking buildings. Little wooden houses with ornate shutters and colored doors whizzed by me. He did not stop until we entered a large orange house and the white door slammed shut behind us.
“Niklas! Gracious, what’s all this? Who are your friends? Is she dead? Oh, Niklas! Look at the new drapes I got. Fancy lace from the east village.”
“Great, mom. Lucy!” Niklas laid me on the couch and checked my vitals.
“Niklas! The couch, dear. She’s all wet. Could you move her to the floor?” The chubby woman had hair like Nik’s, but hers was coifed and set to look extra fancy. She turned to Charles and caught sight of his tail and elfish features. “Ah! Niklas! What are you thinking? Get the halfy out of my house! Out, before the neighbors see! Out!” She swatted Mace with her plump hand. Uncle Rick stood in between them, his gentle expression resolute that Charles would not be struck.
Nik ignored his mother. “She’s alive. Why isn’t she moving?”
Wasn’t I? My body felt too heavy to budge, so I stopped trying to access my limbs. I stared blankly at whoever came in my vision. Jens. Foss. Uncle Rick. Charles. Whatever. My brain was fuzzy. I couldn’t find myself in the fog, so I let myself float. Jens tore his shirt off and pushed it over my head. It smelled amazing. Like man and cookies and warm comfort. Then I was pushed into the warmth, and my soul felt the growing heat. My body had left me, but at least I could still feel my soul. My wet shoes and jeans were yanked off me, and then I was floating again. Nik with his wet, but still bouncing, game show host hair moved me to a bed that was so soft, I could have sworn it was pure feathers. A comforter was pulled over me and tucked up to my chin. Somebody was holding my hand, but I couldn’t focus enough to tell who.
I drifted in my mind to one of the times I was getting picked on in Junior High. Erin Hanson filled my locker with shaving cream, ruining my books and homework. She’d also written “ditz” on my locker in permanent marker that the janitor took two months to paint over. Every day for two months was a reminder that I was stupid, and had no friends.
Erin Hanson had a crush on Linus and thought picking on me would be a good way to get on his radar. I’ll never understand women like that. I’d had a paper on the Civil War due that day, and stayed up late with my dad to finish it.
Linus’s retaliation when the school took too long to clean my locker was to write a very offensive slur on Erin’s locker, which, I’ll admit, did speed things along as far as getting them to bust out the locker paint. He also filled her locker with deck stain, ruining her property far worse than mine. I loved him for it. I loved him for a great many reasons. He was my best friend, and in many cases, my only friend.
I remember being covered in shaving cream up to my elbows and all over the front of my only non-resale purchased shirt, but Linus held me anyway. We sat on the floor in the hall as I cried into his shirt that day, certain it couldn’t get any worse than that.
If only I’d known.
My body ached, but I didn’t care enough to address the pain. Instead, I screamed in my mind. Over and over, screamed for my brother to find me. Screamed for my dad to take me home. I didn’t care which home. Just somewhere with Chinese food and Linus. I screamed for my mom. Not for her to take me away or bring me anything. Just for her. I hadn’t had a mom in so long.
In the back of my mind, I noticed a brick wall that had been in the white noise of my imagination ever since my parents died. When I screamed for my mom, it shook almost as if in answer.
I felt Jamie banging on the walls of my mind to let him in, but I held tight to my fortress so I could scream until I lost myself in the comfort of insanity.
Now I was dirty and unspecial with those filthy hands crawling all over me. I wanted to scream aloud and wipe them off me, but I couldn’t move. So I called for my mom like a child and waited for her behind my closed eyelids.