Dark. Ket liked the dark. Not in a creepy, morbid way of course. It was relaxing, cleansing, and quiet. He had never really been afraid of the dark, although sometimes it did make him feel a bit anxious. He stayed away from horror movies, but not scary novels, and had gotten used to being home alone. No one came to do harm here anyway, there wasn't anything or anyone of value.
A car passed by, Ket could see the ambient glow of headlights on the ceiling, and the crunch of gravel and rubber. A dog started to bark, and a sprinkler system started up.
How neat it was to be within one world and yet aware of another.
He closed his eyes for emphasis, listening to the noises. He could just barely hear the buzz of a generator, sirens on the highway, and most distinctly of all the blood pulsing in his neck. So tranquil was this lucid world of sound that when the telephone rang, it was like a bomb went off. He jumped upright, a surge of adrenaline subsiding almost as quickly as it had come. The phone rang again.
Probably mom calling to say she was running late; it was already 10:30. His footsteps pounded the tile as he made his way to the phone, guided by dim lights. He lifted the phone off of the cradle just before the end of its final ring. "Hello?"
There was the most appropriate half-second pause.
"S'me," the soft voice came quietly over the speaker, "I know I'm crazy for calling so late. Did I wake you guys up?"
"Hi Emeral; no, you didn't wake me." Despite being alone, her soft voice made his likewise.
"Good." She paused. "I just got off the phone with Lyza."
Ket picked the cradle up and moved it so he could sit on his footstool. "Yeah?"
"It sounds like you had an awful time."
"It wasn't that bad." His response was received with a chuckle.
"Well. Lyza...thinks you hate her."
"I don't hate her," he replied upwardly. Another car passed by.
"I figured, but she'll probably act a little weird on Monday. I think you short-circuited her brain with that ticket-gesture."
"Yeah well, it was luck really. Someone stole my coins in the beginning so I went to a jackpot and got it."
Her voice mocked him kindly, dramatizing his humble tone. She giggled when he laughed. "I really wish I could have been there. You know I woulda done some face-decking if it were me in your shoes."
"How have you been feeling? Was it just a little bug like your mom thought?"
She cleared her throat. "Well, I felt okay today but then after I ate solid food for lunch I vom'd."
"Vom'd?" He repeated with a chuckle.
"Oh yeah, it's all the rage. You should try it."
"Careful, I think that's an actual thing."
"Yeah...it's called boo-lee-am-ing-uh or something. I dunno, but yeah. No fever, so at least it's not that bad. The math homework on the other hand..."
"Having trouble?"
"Yeah, I'm trying to do it right now but...I mean, what the heck? Negative three, minus nine, plus negative-five?"
"Oh that's negative seventeen."
"Oh dash negatih sehenteeh," she nasally mocked. "Glad you already did your homework."
"Actually I haven't started yet."
"What?"
He had to move the phone away.
"You mean you did that in your head?"
"Well yeah...it's easy. I just make it an addition problem; negative three minus nine is the same as negative nine plus negative three; same sign so you add them to make negative twelve, then that plus negative five is same-sign so it makes negative seventeen."
"Wait wait wait..." A pencil scratched furiously as she mumbled to herself, "negative three...nine...same sign...what?"
He laughed. "Sounds like I need to teach you some algebra. I can tomorrow if you feel better."
Footsteps came to the front door as Emeral spoke, "Ew not algebra! I heard that stuff was haaaaaaaard..."
"I think mom's coming home so I'm gonna have to go."
"Call me tomorrow?"
"Sure."
* * *
Emeral woke. No motion, no disturbance; it was like someone turned a light-switch. She was asleep, and then awake. Her lips were pursed in a tight o-shape, and as she relaxed them the sound of a kiss popped in the air. She blinked, and drew an elongated sigh.
Just another dream...
She didn't dare look at the clock, but eventually her eyes rolled over to it. Five ante median. School in a couple hours. The bed was freezing, despite her heavy covers and flannel pajamas. She curled for warmth, pulling the lip of the covers over her nose and mouth to keep from breathing the cold air in. Her eyes closed but sleep probably wouldn't come.
Was Ket cold too? He probably didn't wake up in the middle of the morning. At least not from dreams like hers. Did he even have dreams like hers, of touching lip-to-lip? Or did he just have the weird dreams like the one with the exploding Insta-Mac? She had always wanted to ask, but was afraid of either answer.
She shivered violently, like her blood was made of ice. He must be cold. A warm thought entered her mind; she imagined them together, huddling against one another for warmth. A cold cave on a mountain top; isolated, dark, and lonely save for the company of each other...
* * *
Halloween came and went. Everyone had dressed up for it during school. Emeral was in her gi, but had accessorized with head- and wrist-bands. She wanted to be barefoot but Ms. Hupp wouldn't allow it, so it felt weird wearing tennis-shoes. She would have had a better costume but she had been sick for half a week and couldn't get one last-minute, so she defaulted to what she had. Some kid tried to get her to shout "Haduken" but she didn't know what that was so she declined.
Lyza dressed as the tooth fairy, and of course everyone commented on why she didn't dress as the Easter bunny. It happened every year, and even though she took each remark patiently and with a smile, on the inside she felt like crying. Couldn't she just be what she was? Why does she have to be the Easter bunny? Every year she swore she wouldn't dress up again--and every year she did.
Rini came as Frigg, Norse goddess of the sky; she actually tuned her costume to Goren's Odin after having researched their relationship on the internet. No one really knew Norse mythology, so no one really caught on, until Goren made a fuss about it at recess.
Ritzer was Death. "Yeah, s'right, I'm Death; gotta problem widdit?"
Ket was a soldier, and a very excellent one at that (so Emeral thought). It was a simple yet very detailed costume; He wore boots, one of them untied, both scuffed and worn. He had a green bandanna on his head, covering up one ear. His fatigues were scarred--the leggings torn in places, faux bullet-holes, and some kids even said they saw red as if it was dried blood, which wasn't allowed by the school; but Ms. Hupp addressed the issue quickly, and deemed his costume valid. But most of all, and probably the thing Emeral found most unique, was the paint he'd put on his face. It was green and black, but it wasn't just painted on. It was smeared and uneven in its application, like he'd just come back from a skirmish in the jungle. The more accurate answer was that he probably was horrible at applying make-up.
That hallowed eve, Kval took the Three Musketeers out trick-or-treating together. It was the first time they had all gotten together formally, and also the first time Lyza openly addressed Ket since the night of her birthday a week earlier. But Emeral could tell Lyza was still very nervous around him. She would laugh or comment on most everything he said, trying much harder than necessary to include him.
The two tigers exchanged subliminal messages fairly often.
Is she okay?
Just go with it...
It sort of smoothed out after Lyza tried to offer Ket her candy.
"Nah that's okay, besides you've gotta share with Kval."
She stuck her tongue out. "Kval's gonna take some of our candy anyway. But my bag is getting heavy..."
"Here," Ket replied, extending his hand with a smile, "I'll carry it for you."
November passed by in a blink to Emeral, primarily because she ping-ponged between spending her time with Lyza and Ket. She had been neglecting her best friend for quite a while. Even though Lyza's family was still a bit tumultuous, Emeral couldn't just let her best friend be alone.
Kval was still under some scrutiny by his parents, counselors and a case-handler, but he seemed to be handling himself just fine. It was his parents that were the problem. It was like they couldn't decide whether to trust him or not; sometimes it seemed like they were just basing it off of the weather.
Spending the night made Emeral most anxious. Not because of the hostility, that was (unfortunately) a feeling of normalcy. It was her dreams that made her worry. What would Lyza say if she was woken by her calling his name, as she had done at least twice already?
Worse, with the occurrence of each dream--of each little world that she, Ket, and sometimes others both friend and antagonist--she became increasingly torn between her desire to initiate her feelings to Ket once again, and her promise not to pressure him. She scolded herself for even thinking of holding it over his head--but the terrible thought was still there.
But, of all the above, the worst was Ritzer. The lion was becoming increasingly emboldened, and his growing interest in the white tigress was becoming ever difficult to ignore and dismiss. She hoped that Ket wouldn't notice, but knew that somehow he probably did--he was far too observant to be oblivious.
Yet he couldn't do anything anyway; if he did, then everyone would find out they were friends, and Emeral would be thrown into a dangerous place in the social hierarchy. Most girls would dream of being caught between two boys that liked them; but Emeral did not like it one bit. When one of those boys was two years older and mighty-mighty king of the forest he, that boy would typically be the one with his foot on the other, and take his queen by force.
December. The last month that ended in brr, and it certainly did not fail its reputation. Nights were long and cold. Emeral could not get a full night's sleep; her room was like a tundra, despite her best efforts. Three covers, pajama pants tucked into two pairs of socks, two shirts tucked into the pants. Her parents were crazy for keeping the heat so low--they may as well just keep it off.
She had taken to sleeping with arms embraced around a pillow, returning to that cave high up on the mountain tops. But now, even her imaginations had become cold as the frosted pond not far outside her window; as the moon, a solid orb of ice up in the sky; as the cricketless nights so disturbingly quiet.
