Redemption (4 page)

Mom leans back against some of the pillows on my bed and I watch her transform into another one of her personalities. This isn’t messed-up-broken Mom, this is business Mom. This is my band manager. Some would also refer to her as cool Mom.

“That sounds great, Odd.” She waits for me to say more, and I oblige.

“I heard these beautiful and haunting Native drums downtown. I researched into it and think they’re Iroquois water drums. I want to add some to the background of “Serpents in the Sky.” Maybe some chanting—” I stop short and frown.

“It sounds really cool Odd, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know about the chanting … ” It was just my imagination, I know, but suddenly I’m not so sure if I should dwell so much on my dementia. Even if it was just temporary.

“Well, what about the drums then? You think Trick will like the idea?”

“I don’t think Trick will care one way or another as long as I do the work.” I’ve seen how their interest in Lucid Pill is fading. “As long as he doesn’t have to put in any effort, I don’t see how he could object.”

Mom laughs.

“What?” My mouth twitches and I feel like laughing too. I have no idea what she finds funny, but I realize I’m on the verge of hysteria. I need to stay focused on the drums.

“I recognize that look on your face. You’re going to obsess about these drums until everyone has no choice but to follow along with your idea. I know how you get.”

“I’m not obsessing. I just think it’s a good idea. There is a First Nations reserve just on the other side of the St. Lawrence and it’s Iroquois. Did you know that?”

Mom nods.

“Well, it makes it relevant. It will add to the local flavor of our music. It will bring in diversity.”

“You should bring in your French roots too, Aude.” Mom pronounces my name properly to emphasize her point.

I shrug. “Maybe, but French is kind of overdone. Not original.”

“Well, you’re the music genius. I’m just trying to keep up with you.” She laughs. “Your music makes me happy, especially since I can’t even carry a tune.”

I laugh at her. A music genius. Wow. She’s full of it. But I wonder where I get my talent from. Is it all me, or is my father musical? I don’t wonder about him very often, just at times like this when I feel I’m missing answers.

Mom sits up but doesn’t look at me. She appears thoughtful as she stares out my small, frost-covered window. I wonder if she’s thinking about the same thing I am, and then hope she isn’t. As curious as I am, I’ve gone through too much tonight to add this conversation to the list.

“I think you should do the chanting, Aude. In Mohawk and in French.”

Mohawk, or Kanien’kéha, as they call it, is the language of the Iroquois nation I was just talking about. I know this because I’ve been researching, but I’m surprised that it seems such common knowledge to Mom.

“I don’t know if the chanting will work,” I insist. I can’t explain my train of thought. It’s no longer about being strong, I can’t tell her about the attacks because I just can’t face the worry it will bring her.

Mom notices that I am lost in thought and stands up. “I’ll leave you to it. I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Yeah, me too. Night, Mom.”

“Night, Odd.” She leaves my bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I get ready for bed and lie there for a while replaying the incident over and over again. Each time remembering things a little differently. Surely, birds didn’t fall to their death all around me. The men’s attack should have shaken me the most, but my hallucinations have shaken me way worse. And then there was the guy on the metro …

5

Guillaume

It was late by the time I walked home from the Odd girl’s house. The people who’d lingered until the bars’ and nightclubs’ closing times streamed into the streets. The city called to me. We needed to be reacquainted. Ste-Catherine looked almost alien in parts, yet comfortingly familiar in others, and I tried to reconcile what I saw to what I knew. In some areas, I had to rely on street signs to orient myself, yet other places had not changed in a century.

Our old home was right next to the tower where we went dormant. The caricatured gargoyle statues on the facade made me snicker as I walked by. I remembered how they ended up there.

I found Vincent in the back of the apartment building. He sat on the ground, his back against the stone wall, concealed by the shadows of balconies above.

“Where are the others?”
I asked.

“Antoine is trying to sort out our living arrangements. He insists we have to remain at Le Chateau—you know the creature of habit he is. I think he would have been happy to remain watching … ”

“And you? How do you feel about this?”

He shrugged, and then let his small shoulders back against the cold wall. An old cloak covered him and yet he still looked cold. “
I don’t know. I’ve lived my life already; I’m tired. Antoine and I, we’re not like you and Garnier. When the essence comes back, you two just spring up and take things up where you left off. I can’t do that. I don’t know why I would want to do that. What is the point of just a little more borrowed time? We have nothing left. Not even a purpose.”

Listening to Vincent’s words, it was much easier to imagine him the way I had last seen him, as a mature man who had long passed his prime of life, instead of the eleven-year-old boy who sat in front of me. I leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette.
“She’s the key, you know. She is our purpose. We need to find out how she woke us, and then maybe we can sustain ourselves without an essentialist. We could have freedom.”

“Freedom to do what?” he asked aloud.

“To live.”

Vincent shook his head sadly. “What do you think we’ve been doing, Guillaume?”

Maybe Vincent had been living the past centuries, but I hadn’t, not really. There was a time with Marguerite that felt like life. At the thought of her, I noticed Garnier’s absence. “Where is he?”

“Garnier? He’s visiting her. Marguerite.”

So I had been right. Guilt settled into the pit of my stomach. After watching for seventy years, the first thing Garnier did was visit her. I should have done that, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to face her. To face what I had done to her. Vincent studied me, waiting for my reaction. I gave him none.

“So what now?” I asked.

“We wait for Antoine, I guess.”

Waiting. Hadn’t we done enough waiting already? I slunk down next to Vincent and puffed on my cigarette. “It’s strange, you know?”

“I know.” Vincent sighed.

“I mean all of it. Not just our sudden fill of essence, but everything else.”

“Feeling the air on our skin … ”

“Yes, exactly. And you … ”

The eleven-year-old boy next to me was the form I had known Vincent for most of our time together, but when I’d last seen him, he’d been older. He’d been a parental figure to us somehow, had taken over Antoine’s role in taking care of us.

He shrugged again.

There were no more words to say. So we sat, not in silence like we had for the past decades. This time, we listened to the sound of our breath.

We must have fallen asleep back there, hidden from the street, because it was already late in the morning by the time Antoine returned.

Sometime during the night, Garnier had returned and now sat next to us. Antoine ran a hand through his dirty hair. “The money we had in the account for building-maintenance fees ran out quickly when the charges more than quadrupled. So, they took our apartment and sold it. Now, I can contact a lawyer in order to try and get some of the money back. But it doesn’t solve the problem; we need somewhere to live.” He took a breath. “One of the penthouses is empty. It’s for sale and the seller is looking to move fast on it.”

“So let’s just buy it,” Garnier said.

“We can look into dipping into our long-term investments, or at worst, I’m sure our more liquid assets are still hidden where we’ve left them. But our biggest obstacle is paperwork. It will take at least a few days to sort everything out before we can even begin the paperwork required to purchase the penthouse.”

The more Antoine talked about accounts, investments, mortgages, etcetera, the more tense I became. Yes, we needed somewhere to live, but it wasn’t our priority.

“Where did you say that penthouse was?” I asked.

Antoine pointed to the corner nearest us.

“Perfect,” I replied.

I scanned the area to make sure no one could see me, and climbed up the side. I found all the familiar footholds and crannies. My balance was better than any human’s, but without using more essence than I had at the moment, I couldn’t ascend the building much faster than a seasoned mountain climber. I could have taken the fire escape up, but it was noisy and there were more chances I’d be seen.

“What are you doing?”
Antoine asked.

“Well, while you guys worry about interest rates and mortgage and all the pointless, useless stuff, I’m going to break in and rest.”
Yes, we needed somewhere to live, but it couldn’t be our priority. Preserving our essence should come first, and the energy we used keeping ourselves warm in the winter cold was draining it.

“
We don’t have an essentialist, our essence is not unlimited.”
They shouldn’t have needed the reminder.

“If you had let me finish, I was going to suggest we stay in a hotel,”
said Antoine.

“Suit yourself, but I’m just breaking in. I need to be ready to find the girl again. I’m not letting this opportunity pass us.”

I hopped through the open window and took in my surroundings. The sparse furnishings were obviously more for show than living.

Garnier jumped in behind me and I was surprised how quickly Antoine and Vincent followed.

Antoine surveyed his surroundings. “I could use your help getting everything sorted out.”

“The father figure thing is getting really old,” I said.

“Like eight hundred years old,” Garnier joked behind me.

“Just because you look old enough to be our father, doesn’t mean you can order us around,” I said.

“Well as long as you continue acting like a kid—“ Antoine started.

“Enough, both of you,” said Vincent. “We just need to all pitch in and make this place livable. You want to be free, Guillaume? Well, responsibility is part of freedom.”

“This isn’t really my thing.” I pulled out another stale cigarette.

Antoine took it away.

“It’s now acceptable to forbid you from smoking indoors.”

“Why do I care what’s acceptable, or not, by society?” I reached for another cigarette.

“Don’t.”

“Or what?” This was no longer only about the cigarette, decades of tension wrapped up in our words.

“After watching for this long, we’re all weak. But my human shape is bigger than yours, and I am pretty sure I would be able to win the fight.” His jaw clenched.

I shrugged and walked out to go smoke on the roof.

6

Guillaume

I lay on my back looking up at the blue sky, while enjoying my cigarette. I noticed the vibrations caused by someone stepping up on the roof and sat up to watch Garnier approach. His steps were slow and steady. His face, inscrutable. I continued to study him, wondering what his reaction would be. He was always unpredictable—I guess we all were—but after visiting Marguerite he would be doubly so. He sat next to me.

“Why are you fighting with Antoine? What is going on?”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight. He decided I shouldn’t smoke inside, and I didn’t agree with said decision.” I spoke aloud. There was no need for the others to take part in this conversation.

“We are all a bit on edge right now.”

“So we are … ”

“Did you find her?”

“Yes, I followed her home. I need to talk to her, maybe observe her, I don’t know.”

“So why are you here?”

I wondered the same thing. Part of me was ready to go. Ready to find answers. No one else was going to solve the problems caused by our low supply of essence. Maybe this was why I hesitated. No one else was concerned. No one else really cared and I wondered why I should.

“Today is Saturday. She could leave the house at any time, or not at all. I refuse to watch the whole day. I’ll go back Monday morning, since she should have to go to school. It will make it easier to trail her then.”

“Are you sure it was she who woke us?”

“She did the chanting.”

“I guess so.”

“How was your visit?” I brought the subject to Marguerite. After the way things had ended with her, she was never too far from my thoughts.

“Her gravesite hasn’t changed at all, though it seems the whole cemetery is much bigger now. Everything was peaceful.”