Signal to Noise(63)

“Rodriguez must pay,” Meche said.

“Maybe,” Sebastian said. “But magic it’s not the way to do it.”

“Can we even do it?” Daniela asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Meche said. “I’m sure we can.”





DANIELA SAT IN the front seat, nervously touching the steering wheel and staring at Meche through the rear-view mirror.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Daniela said. “I don’t have a permit yet. This is not even my car. If my sister finds out...”

“Shhh. I’ll be quick.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about this either,” Sebastian said. “You’re making an awful lot of assumptions here.”

“We practised.”

“Um, barely.”

Meche handed him the portable record player, placing the record on top of it.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t you let me go?” Sebastian asked. “I can do it.”

“Nope. I can do this and I can do it better than either of you can.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know,” Meche said.

Meche jumped out of the car before he could say anything else. Sebastian stretched his head out the window. She went around the corner and rang the interphone.

“Yeah?” Mr. Rodriguez’s voice came through the speaker.

“Hi, Mr. Rodriguez? It’s Meche. I’m here for the tutoring session.”

“Oh, alright. Come on in.”

The door opened and Meche slipped into the building. She reached the end of a hallway and had hardly knocked when Rodriguez swung the door open, letting her in.

“You’re early,” he said.

“I caught a ride.”

“Good. Come in.”

Meche followed him, hands in the pockets of her heavy jacket. She eyed the living room carefully, looking at all the books and the photographs sitting on a shelf. She glanced out a window and saw Daniela’s car below. Meche checked her watch. Three more minutes.

“Do you want something to drink? Soda? A glass of water?”

“Water is fine.”

Rodriguez went to the kitchen, filling a glass for her. He handed it to Meche and she took a tiny sip, nodding.

“Mr. Rodriguez, you know I’m friends with Daniela, don’t you?”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Friends tell each other things, Mr. Rodriguez.”

He raised a hand, scratching the back of his head and smiling. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“I think you are.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and the smile grew a little crooked. “Are you going to start making accusations against me?”

“Oh, they’re not accusations. It’s the truth. Ten.”

“What?”

Meche turned her wrist, looking at the watch. Tick tick tick it went, marking each passing second.

“Eight.”

“What are you going on about?”

“Just counting down. Four.”

Meche paused.

“To what?”

“Candyman. Siouxsie and the Banshees,” she said.

The little minute hand reached the mark and Meche dropped the glass. It shattered on the nice, oiled floor of Mr. Rodriguez’s apartment. He stared at the puddle and Meche shrugged, making an exaggerated pout.

“Oops. Clumsy me.”

“What are you... maybe you better leave.”

“So fast? You don’t want to make a pass at me? Try to rub your dirty crotch against my side?”

“Hey,” Rodriguez said, stepping towards her and wagging an angry finger at her.

Meche raised a hand and a book flew through the air, hitting him on the head. Rodriguez stumbled, touching his head and looking up in surprise.

“Now how did that happen?” Meche wondered out loud. “Oh, yeah, it went a bit like this!”

She extended her other hand and a thick dictionary whacked him on the back. Rodriguez turned around, surprised.

“What is happening?”

Meche looked at her nails, flicking a finger, and a third book bounced against his leg.

“Magic,” she said.

She couldn’t hear the music but she could feel it outside, swimming up and stretching up her arms.

Rodriguez rushed towards her, perhaps thinking he could overpower her. Meche raised the glass shards from the floor, sending them flying into his face like darts. He fell on his knees and began to roll on the floor, crying like a little baby. Meche pressed a foot against his ribcage and looked down at him, feeling rather numb at the sight of his pained face and the blood.

“If we ever see you again, we’ll make it really hurt,” she said. “And if you ever touch another girl we’ll make you cut off your balls and eat them. Believe me, we can.”

She gave him a kick, for good measure, and slammed the door when she left. The whole building crackled with the power. When she leaned down next to the car, her hand rested against the hood and a little spark of electricity shot through her fingers.

Meche felt like she had just drunk a whole bottle of tequila. She opened the back door and collapsed next to Sebastian.