Signal to Noise(40)

“Ah!”

Meche was more energized than angry at his welcome, so she simply followed him, right into his room, chuckling and shaking her head.

“You are jealous,” she said. “You just can’t take the fact that I got what I wanted and you didn’t. It’s not my fault Isadora dissed you.”

“Rub it in, won’t you?”

“Loser.”

Sebastian was picking his sneakers from his bedroom floor. He promptly dropped them and hurried towards Meche. She was leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed, smug and confident. Sebastian stretched up his whole, tall, bony length and glared down at her and for the first time in her life Meche felt much smaller than her friend. Meche tilted her head up, staring back into Sebastian’s eyes, her teeth bared in a harsh smile.

“What?” she asked.

Sebastian leaned down and she thought he was going to bark another insult at her. Maybe in Catalán, maybe in Spanish.

He opened his mouth and said... nothing. Sebastian stomped away as quickly as he had come, falling onto his bed and pulling the cover around his shoulders.

“Just go,” he said.

Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to shoo Meche out. But there was a new intonation in his voice that afternoon. It prickled Meche’s skin and made her step back, confused, and she left without another word, not bothering to close the front door behind her.





ROMUALDO ARRIVED AROUND eight. Sebastian was still in bed. He had not moved an inch, curled up under the covers, staring at the wall and feeling like there was a piece of lead in his stomach.

“Are you sick, *?” Romualdo asked, his usual, cheery hello.

“No,” Sebastian asked.

“The front door was open.”

“Nobody would come in to steal.”

“It doesn’t matter. Get up and go to the living room. I need to phone Margarita.”

“Why don’t you use the pay phone down at the corner, *?”

Romualdo punched him in the ribs, hard. Sebastian sat up, rubbing his side and glared at his brother.

“What?” Romualdo asked. “Wanna fight?”

Romualdo was a lot stronger and beefier than Sebastian. Any fight would end with Sebastian bleeding. For a moment, though, he considered it. Then it all seemed like such a bother. Sebastian shook his head, too worn to bother with his brother.

“No. Excuse me, my cereal must be getting all soggy.”

Sebastian walked past his brother and headed into the kitchen. It was beyond soggy. He threw the cereal down the drain and poured himself a fresh bowl.

“So what did you fight with Meche about?”

“How’d you know that?” Sebastian asked, his spoon frozen in mid-air.

Romualdo laughed. “Oh, come on. You’re having chick trouble. And the only chick who ever hangs around with your sorry self is Meche. Or maybe Daniela. And I know Daniela wouldn’t rile you up like this. So what’s going on with you two?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

“Fine,” Romualdo said, lifting his hands in the air.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, he thrust the spoon into his mouth and spoke while chewing at the same time. “I dunno. She irritated me. Sometimes Meche thinks she’s so much better than me. It’s like she rubs it in my face. She can be such a major bitch.”

“Then stop being friends with her.”

“Well... it doesn’t mean I hate her,” Sebastian said carefully. “It’s just we’ve been talking about this magic... um... music and magic thing and it all kind of started with this spell—”

“You are so funny.”

“What?”

“Look, you are f*cked up in the head. Meche is too. You’re just both really weird.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian said dryly.

“It’s true. I was never like you and you’re definitely not like other kids. But it’s okay because Meche gets you. I don’t know why or how, but she totally does get you. And that’s a good thing. Most people, they’ll never understand you. So, after you deal with this hormonal attack or whatever it is you’re having, make up.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, running a hand through his hair.

He stirred his cereal and smiled a bit, then glanced at his brother, feeling contrite.

“I’m sorry. You should phone Margarita.”

“Ah, it’s okay,” Romualdo said. “I already know what she’s going to say.”

“Is she... is she really pregnant?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea.”

They stood in silence, nodding. Sebastian felt, for a brief moment, like he was actually close to his brother.

“Did you really fix my old motorcycle?” Romualdo asked. “Mom told me you were out riding it the other day.”

“I did.”

“How?”

“Magic,” Sebastian said taking another spoonful of cereal.





DANIELA WAS DREAMING of an adventure in the South Seas. A ship. Pirates. Marooned on an island. She imagined herself in a flowing 19th century dress, a parasol between her hands, the blinding sun scorching the sky. White sand dunes and a man approaching from afar, his shirt open to his waist. Mr. Rodriguez in the role of the hero.