Kami Cursed (Dragon and Phoenix) (9 page)

I was pretty
sure I knew why he was saying that, and the knowledge made me uncomfortable
again.  I pulled away and headed toward the ticket booth.  “No butter, okay?”

He waved at me
dismissively and went to stand in line for concessions.  I watched him out of
the corner of my eyes, trying to be objective.  Ryuu was just Ryuu.  He’d
always been part of my life.  I didn’t think of him as a boy, or anything
really.  I watched him flip his sleek black hair out of his almond shaped eyes,
looking for my Ryuu.  He wasn’t there anymore, I realized with a start. 

He had been a
pretty little boy, but now his face was sharper, with high cheekbones and a
wide mouth.  He was still gawky and too skinny, but his shoulders had gotten wider,
and he was almost as tall as me now.  He shifted to the balls of his feet,
impatient with the line.  The movement drew the eyes of a group of girls his
age who were waiting for someone at the entrance.  I realized that I wasn’t the
only one watching him.  In fact, I thought maybe I was the only one who
hadn’t
been watching him all this time.

His dark eyes
met mine and he grinned and waved.  I grimaced and waved back, then moved up in
line, still shocked by my little epiphany.  Ryuu was…beautiful.  And there was
absolutely no way I could admit it to anyone.  He was just a kid.  The three
years between us seemed even bigger now- like a giant, yawning gulf.

I bought the
tickets and met him just outside the door.  He narrowed his eyes at me as if he
suspected something.  “Hey, what’s wrong,” he asked, leaning close to inspect
my face.  “You’re not thinking about what’s-his-face, are you?”

I gave him a wry
smile and pulled back.  “Nope,” I said truthfully. 

“Good!”  He took
my hand and started toward the door, but I pulled my hand free.  I covered the
reaction by taking the popcorn.

He didn’t seem
to notice.  “Do you want to sit in the back so we can make shadow puppets in
the projector and tick everyone off?”

I laughed. 
“Sure.”

I
sat down in a
big, overstuffed leather chair and glanced apprehensively at the therapist.  Dr.
Laura was a psychologist at Birch Hill who specialized in helping children with
“adjustment issues”- whatever that meant.  She was a pretty woman, maybe thirty
or forty years old.  She had expressive hazel eyes and little wrinkles around
her small mouth.  She settled herself behind her shiny wooden desk and pulled
out a silver pen and a little notebook.  Then she gave me a warm smile. 

“How have you
been?” she asked softly.

I almost
laughed.  How was I?  Since the last time I’d seen her- when I was just
emerging from a curse induced period of insanity- I think my life had gotten
more
complicated, not less.

“Okay,” I said
slowly, trying to keep my expression light and neutral.

Dr. Laura didn’t
press me for more, but she scribbled something on her little notepad.  She
looked up from her note and her expression was warm and caring.  “How are you
adjusting at school?”

I sighed. 
“Okay, I guess.”

Her eyes
narrowed just a fraction and I squirmed a bit in my seat.  I’ve never been good
at lies.  “I see you have a new haircut.”

I swallowed,
then pasted a smile on my face.  “Oh, yeah.  Some of the other girls at school
have short hair, and I thought it would be nice.”

Dr. Laura
crossed her legs under her desk and placed an elbow on the desk so that she
could rest her chin in her palm.  She stared into my eyes.  “Your dad tells me
someone put gum in your hair and you had to cut it.”

I waved a hand
dismissively.  “It’s not a big deal.”

“Hmm…I see you
don’t want to talk about it.  That’s okay, but you know you can talk to
someone- me, or your dad, or your school councilor- whenever you need to.”  She
glanced down at her notebook and then back up at me.

“Let’s talk
about your mom a little bit.”

I wanted to
choke.  “Let’s not.”

Dr. Laura
leveled a serious look at me.  “Kit, I know it was hard on you when your mom
left.  From what your dad says, there was no warning, no indication that she
was about to vanish.”

I shrugged.  It
was true.  I could understand if they had been fighting or something, but they
never had.  Mom had just up and left.

Dr. Laura sat up
and leaned back in her chair, losing her assumed air of friendliness.  “You
need to make peace with your mom to be sure this never happens to you again.” 
Of course, she believed, like all the others, that I had coping issues that had
driven me to temporary insanity.

“Don’t worry,” I
said placidly.  “It won’t happen again.”  Because I’d destroyed the stupid book
once and for all.

Dr. Laura
glanced at the shiny gold clock on her desk, jotted in her notebook, then
smiled at me again.  “Okay, we won’t talk about that stuff.  I know this might
be an embarrassing subject for you, but I was wondering if you’re doing okay
physically?  Your body has changed a lot in three years, and you don’t remember
the change.  That must be hard.” 

I blushed
furiously.  “It is.”  I knew I would have to talk to her about something.  I
had to give her something or she wouldn’t be satisfied.  She’d probably say I
was still insane.  It might be embarrassing, but this seemed like the safest
topic. 

“I still feel
silly and out of place,” I admitted. 

Dr. Laura
nodded.  “That’s natural.”

I gestured at my
baggy t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans.  “Andrea- one of my friends at school-
keeps trying to get me to wear something else, but then I just feel like I’m
bursting out of my clothes.”

She smiled.  “I
see.  So you feel like you can hide in those clothes?”

I nodded.  Dr.
Laura tilted her head to the side as she regarded me.  “You’re really a very
beautiful young lady,” she said fondly.  “I can see why your friend would want
to help you dress up a bit.”  She considered for a moment. 

“I want you to
do what is comfortable for you, but at the same time, I think you should
challenge yourself a little.  You might find that dressing like the other girls
will help you feel like you fit in.  And it might help you accept your body,
rather than trying to hide it.”

I shrugged,
unconvinced.  But Dr. Laura just smiled.  “Speaking of that,” she said slyly. 
“What about boys?”

I looked at my
knees.  “What about them?”

She laughed. 
“Have any of the boys at your school asked you out?”

I sighed.  “Just
one.  I went, but it was a disaster.”

I glanced up to
see her frowning at me.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tell her that he
wanted to make out, but I couldn’t handle it?  No.  I don’t think so.  “No,
thanks.”

I heaved a
sigh.  There was no way I was going to be able to pull this off.  I couldn’t
talk to her about anything because my whole life was so messed up, and I
couldn’t make stuff up because I was such a bad liar.  I flogged my mind,
trying to dredge up something non-curse related.

Then I thought
of something I genuinely wanted help with.  “My dad,” I said quietly.  “I don’t
want him to feel guilty about me.” 

I couldn’t quite
tell her the truth- that he had started drinking again when I was out of it,
and that he seemed to go back to drinking any time I didn’t seem to be
perfectly happy.  But what I had told her was true.  I felt like he felt guilty
if I was struggling, which just made me even more stressed out, because I had
to always make an effort to look like I was doing great.

Dr. Laura pursed
her lips.  “You’re really perceptive to pick up on that sweetheart.  He
probably does feel guilty- it’s what parents do.  We take personal responsibility
for everything that happens to our kids.”  She smiled softly.  “But you
shouldn’t feel bad about worrying him- just do your best.  That’s all you can
do.  But it must be hard.”

For just a
moment, I wondered if she would understand.  What would happen if I told her
everything- about curses and kami, and things that no one should see?  It would
feel great to tell someone all of it, to get it off my chest.  But then
something shifted in her eyes, and I knew better.  It was just wishful
thinking. 

Dr. Laura looked
at her notebook again.  I wondered what she would do without it.  “Your dad
says you spend almost all of your free time with your little friend, Ryuu?”

I nodded. 
“We’ve been friends since he moved here.”

She nodded, but
a line had grown between her eyebrows.  “I wonder if you don’t need to branch
out a little bit?  Maybe hang out with more people your own age?  Some kids who
aren’t as … offbeat… as your Ryuu.

I sat up, and I
could feel an ugly scowl forming on my face.  She thought Ryuu was a bad
influence.  “He’s the only one who understands anything about me,” I said
fiercely.

She took a deep
breath and stared me down.  “Maybe that’s your fault.  If you would open up to
other people, we’d understand too.”  That was a rebuke for not answering any of
her questions.

I stood and
paced the length of her big bookcase.  “No, you wouldn’t.”

She said
something placating then, but I didn’t hear it.  There was a buzzing coming
from the bookshelf.  A kind of scratchy, pay attention to me kind of sound.

I perused the
shelves intently, looking for the source of the sound.  It was a few minutes
before I realized that Dr. Laura had stopped talking.  I straightened and
turned to face her.

“What are you
looking for?”  Her tone was pleasant, but I knew she was getting annoyed.

“Uh, this.” 
Finally locating the source of the noise, I pointed at a little enameled box
that sat on the shelf shouting at me.

Dr. Laura
sighed.  “A former client gave me that as thanks.”

I nodded, my
gaze darting back to the little box.  If it had been given to her by a troubled
kid, it might have picked up some bad energy.  And then, here it was, sitting
in this office while people poured out their deepest pain.  Bad idea.

“Ah, what were
you saying,” I asked pleasantly.  Steeling myself, I grabbed the box and took
it with me to my seat.  The buzzing grew louder, until it sounded like a
static-laced voice.  My hand burned where I touched the little box.  

Dr. Laura was
staring at me warily, as if she was expecting a psychotic break.  “Sorry,” I
said calmly, ignoring the burning.  “What were you saying?”

She settled
herself back into her chair and continued.  “I think it would be good for you
to spend more time with kids your own age.  Go on some outings.  Or- if you’re
feeling uncomfortable- maybe have a couple of people over to your house, where
you feel safe.”

I nodded,
thinking furiously.  I didn’t have my bat with me.  And this thing needed to be
destroyed before it turned truly nasty.  “I could do that,” I yammered in reply
to her suggestions.  The box couldn’t stay here.  Not where a bunch of
vulnerable kids came for help.  My hand felt like it was blistering.

I wanted my bat
so badly.  I instinctively felt that I needed something to channel my energy. 
I grimaced and shifted the box from hand to hand.  My skin was getting red. 
Dr. Laura gave me an odd look. 

The box
whispered to me. 
Traitor.

Startled, I
stared down at it, focusing all of my thoughts on the box, trying to determine
if it had really spoken to me, or if I’d just imagined it.  But that was a
mistake.  The minute I focused my attention on the box, my hands were a flaming
agony.  I held out the box to Dr. Laura pleadingly. 

“Can… can I, um,
have this?”  I tried a smile.  “If you helped someone else so much that they
gave this to you, maybe you can help me too.”

Her smile was
strained.  “Sure, you can have it.”

I sighed and
slipped the box into my pocket, where it continued to burn away merrily, muttering
and buzzing the whole time.  It felt like my ears were ringing.

“What’s that?” 
Dr. Laura sounded surprised.  She stood suddenly and grabbed my wrist.  Leaning
forward, she examined my red, blistered hand.

I tried to hide
the other hand, but she saw it too.  “Kit!  What did you do to your hands?!”

I swallowed
hard.  “Uh.  Cooking.  I grabbed a hot baking sheet.”  I grinned up at her
stupidly.  “Dumb, huh?”

She stared into
my eyes intently.  “Honey, are you hurting yourself on purpose?”

Oh
crap
. 
“No! Nononono…”  I held up my poor mutilated hands defensively.  “I’d never do
that.” 

She didn’t look
convinced.  But time was up, and she had to let me leave.  I knew she would
call my dad and tell him all about her suspicions.  And I’d probably have to talk
to her about it for the entire hour next time.  Right now, I didn’t care.  My
thigh was on fire where the little box rested in my pocket.  I just hoped they
wouldn’t throw me back in the mental hospital.

I had no idea
what to do with the annoying little box.  I waited until Dad wasn’t around,
then took it out into the backyard and gave it a talking to with my bat.  My
attempts at destroying it were just as worthless as those to destroy the coin.  I
stared down at it, panting from my last attempt.  I couldn’t bring myself to
take it to the temple.  The monks were already being affected by the coin.

 Finally,
exhausted and fed up, I stomped into the garage and rummaged around until I
found a shovel.  Then I buried the noisy thing in the far corner of the yard,
by an old weedy flowerbox that held a clump of dried up sunflowers.  I admit,
by this time I was glad to cover the gleaming box with dirt.  I was tired,
ticked, and completely fed up with the whole stupid business.

I gave the
little mound of earth one last triumphant pat and stood.  Turning, I stepped
across the burial site to pick up my bat.  Somehow, my feet tangled in the
shovel and I fell.  I couldn’t get my hands up fast enough.  I sat there in the
grass, rubbing my aching cheek and gazed dully at the railroad tie flower box
that had just kissed my face.  I pulled myself together and tossed one last
glower at the mound of earth before I went to put away the shovel.  I swear I
heard muffled laughter.