Signal to Noise(86)

This day was supposed to come, he thought. He remembered his vision of Meche heading towards an airplane. He’d known, long before, that he’d lose her, but he couldn’t escape this melody.





THE HOSPITAL SMELLED like disinfectant. It wasn’t like the smell when grandma cleaned the clothes at home or washed the floors. It was more powerful and unpleasant. Then there was the cold. Meche had to keep her sweater buttoned up, otherwise her arms would get goosebump.

She didn’t like the hospital and she liked the hospital room even less. Grandma shared it with another two women and all that separated her from the next bed was a thin curtain. Meche had to sit very close to the bed in an uncomfortable, old chair.

“Do you know what I did today?” Meche asked and paused to wait for a reply even though her grandmother could not answer.

She had washed her grandmother’s hair in a little basin and was carefully combing it with a plastic, wide-tooth comb.

“I made picadillo. I didn’t boil the potatoes long enough so they were a little hard.”

Meche set the comb down and looked at her grandmother’s face.

“You’re going to get better,” she said, smiling. “That’s a promise.”





MECHE WAS RE-READING their grimoire, pausing to scribble little annotations on the margin of the page. She checked her watch. They were late. Were they even coming? It would be a cruel joke to leave her waiting. But this might be Sebastian’s way of getting back at her.

Night was falling so she lit the candles around the room to keep herself distracted. Two dozen stubs of wax. She looked out the circular window and pressed her cheek against the glass.

With a sigh she struck another match and lit the rest of the candles on top of the coffee table.

The door opened. Daniela and Sebastian walked in, sweeping their flashlights in a wide arc. They dropped their backpacks by the door. When Sebastian moved into the light Meche felt her arrogant smile fade a bit. He had a cast on his hand, like Daniela said, and when he walked he limped a bit. There was a cut across his forehead.

He looked at her, eyes sharp and unpleasant.

She looked back, chin raised.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m here. Like you wanted.”

“Good.” Meche knelt down to open the portable record player.

“You needn’t bother, I’m not casting any spells with you.”

Meche raised her head and looked at him with a frown. She brushed the top of the record player with her right hand.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve come to tell you I’m done with your little circle.”

“So am I,” Daniela said.

Meche did not mean to laugh, but she did anyway. Their determined yet frightened expressions were just too hilarious.

“Oh come on,” she said. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes we do,” Daniela said.

“Did he put you up to this?” Meche asked, pointing at Sebastian.

“No. I’m tired of having you boss me around. This magic... this is not fun anymore. It’s nasty and I want to be done with it.”

“Do you want to be done with me, too?” she asked Sebastian.

He glanced away and shook his head, smiling at her. Why, yes, of course. Now he had Isadora.

“I can’t believe you,” he said. “I can’t believe your absolute selfishness.”

“My selfishness?” she asked. “I want to heal my grandmother. Is that selfish?”

“Everything is about you, Meche. This circle was never about us. We were just your assistants, here to help get what you wanted. You did not even ask what we wanted.”

“I asked what you wanted. And you have what you want, anyway,” Meche said, remembering the little dance with Isadora. “So now give me what I need.”

“Your circle is no more. You might as well get over it.”

“Is that so?” Meche said. She glanced at Sebastian, then at Daniela. “You really want to piss me off?”

“We are not afraid of you,” Sebastian said.

“Good,” Meche said. “Remember that later.”

She opened the record player and the needle pressed down on the record. It was Strange Days by The Doors. It had a certain kick to it, a certain pick-me-up that had electrified Meche the first time she had grabbed the record, tickling something inside her head.

She snapped her fingers and narrowed her eyes. She did not need them. A couple of losers to weigh her down. She could do this by herself. She’d show them magic.

Meche snapped her fingers again and the candle flames jumped up, grew brighter as though they were being fanned by an invisible hand.

“Bubble, bubble, hu?” she told Sebastian. “Circles are for weaklings.”

She snapped her fingers again and the light of the candles grew even brighter, imbuing everything with a golden glow. Daniela and Sebastian stared at her.

She’d started by casting spells alone and it seemed she would finish casting them by herself. They could both go to hell.

The song grew and so did her magic. Meche made the candles drip rivers of wax upon the floor, long white tendrils reaching towards Daniela and Sebastian.

“My Duncan Dhu record. I want it.”

“You’re scaring me,” Daniela said, stepping back, closer to the wall.