Signal to Noise(8)

“For real? When?”

“How about now?”

“School day.”

“So?”

“Oh my God, you just want to skip the chemistry test.”

“Maybe. But do you really want to go to school?”

“Nope.”

Sebastian rocked back and forth on his shoes, which, against school regulations, he had painted with faint traces of whiteout spelling out THE RAVEN. Meche pulled up her left sock, with the broken elastic.

“Daniela will be pissed if we skip out without inviting her.”

“Yeah, but her mom drives her to school. Tough luck. I’m heading to the factory. Are you coming?”

“I studied for the test.”

“Why bother when you can cheat?”

Meche rolled her eyes and held on to the straps of her backpack. On the one hand she was annoyed at Sebastian for trying to miss the test. On the other hand this might be a good chance to convince him about the music and spells. He was halfway there already. She could tell. He had the same expression as he did when they had done that Ouija session. Daniela had freaked out because she had recently seen a movie about demon-possessed people, and she swore she’d never speak to them again because they were morbid and freaky, but she came back to roost with them all the same. What else could she do? It was not like any of them had much of a social circle.

“Fine,” Meche said.

Sebastian led the way, purposely sinking into the puddles and splashing her.

Wanker.

Meche put her headphones on again and the cassette player told her about a voyeur staring through the window.

She followed Sebastian until they reached the abandoned pantyhose factory. Most of the windows were covered with wooden boards, but Sebastian ducked and went in through a large opening, obviously knowing what to do.

Meche leaned down.

She had never liked the pantyhose factory. The little kids enjoyed playing tag there and the older ones came to drink beer and make out, but it had always seemed so sad and grey.

She shoved her backpack in and then crawled in herself, emerging into one of the cavernous factory rooms. It was dark and she was glad when Sebastian took out a flashlight, even if he did shine it in her face.

“Let’s go up,” he said, handing her the flashlight.

They rushed up the stairs, their feet clattering upon the metal and making the building echo with their footsteps.

They went into a large room with scattered furniture: a table, some chairs piled in a corner. Someone—probably not the original factory workers—had dragged a lumpy, red couch into the middle of the room.

There were more windows on the second floor and fewer of these were boarded, so there was significantly more light, even though dirt had accumulated upon the panes, blurring the view. Meche walked up to the circular window on the east wall and wiped it with the sleeves of her too-large sweater, which she had inherited from her older cousin Jimena.

The neighbourhood looked different when seen like this, so diffused.

“You’ve been coming here a lot?” she asked.

“Not often.”

Sebastian tossed his umbrella on the floor and threw himself on the couch, propping his feet up.

“So now you believe me about the magic?”

“I think you are cr-aaaa-zy,” he said. “But what the hell. Life can’t get any crappier, can it?”

“Was your dad home last night?” Meche asked, frowning.

Sebastian’s dad wasn’t living with them, but he came around periodically to collect money and beat the kids. For old time’s sake.

“It’s got nothing to do with him,” Sebastian said, meaning it probably had everything to do with him.

She shoved his feet away and sat on the couch. Sebastian had the backpack pressed against his chest and was staring at the ceiling.

“What’s it got to do with?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I just wish it was all different. You know?”

“Yeah.”

Meche scratched her leg and sat quietly, thinking about all the things she would change if she could. She’d get rid of the pimples. She’d get nice, new clothes. Not Jimena’s hand-me-downs. Her mother would yell less. She’d go out on a date with Constantino.

“How do we do it?”

“I don’t know,” Meche said. “I haven’t thought about it too much. I mean, we need a turntable and lots of records, I guess. We have to figure out the formula.”

“So you’re saying you have no idea?” he asked flatly.

“I have some idea,” Meche said, feeling offended. “It’s just going to take some experimenting. I need to do more research. I wonder if there are any books I can use at the school library...”

“Aha.”

“We need to convince Daniela. I figure we need three people.”

“Why three?”

“Because it’s the first lucky prime number.”

Sebastian looked at her blankly, as though she had just spoken in Dutch. She sighed.

“Stuff always comes in threes. Like there are three notes in a triad, which is your basic chord. Or the holy trinity.”

“‘Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble’,” he said.

“What?” Meche asked. She had no idea what he was talking about.