“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
And then she leaves. With Nathan.
Meredith falls asleep singing “Bold Sapphire” while we’re driving home. She wakes up once and says, “I wish you and Mel weren’t going away.” Then she curls into herself and goes back to sleep.
CHAPTER THE NINTH, in which Satchel visits the police station looking for her uncle; the other officers are stern with her and she sees a glowing blue deep in their eyes; her uncle –
wearing a scarf despite the heat of the day – has the same glow; he threatens Satchel, and she flees the police station, finding second indie kid Finn at her house; for a moment it seems like he might kiss her, but she touches the amulet and sees another flash of the handsomest boy she’s ever seen; it’s so strong, she has to run up to her room so she can ruminate alone.
“Did you ask him yet?”
“It’s not really that simple,” Jared says. “And he’s not really a he. You look like you’re being treated for burns.”
I touch the make-up the photographer has slapped on me like frosting on a cake. My fingertips come away peach.
“Don’t touch it!” she yells from where she’s setting up the camera.
“Maybe I should just go with the black eyes,” I tell Jared.
“At least the bandages are off,” he says.
“Yeah, thanks. So did you ask him? Or her? Or them?”
“It’s a bit less certain than that with some Gods. But yes, I asked the God of Deer about your deer zombie.”
“And?”
“Nothing. Hadn’t heard about it, looked into it, said, Beyond my realms.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means whatever this is, it’s nothing to do with the Gods.” He squints and rubs his nose. No make-up for him. “Look, Mike, most Gods don’t care.”
“About what?”
“About anything. Other than gaining dominance over other Gods and telling you how wonderful they are and demanding that you say the same.” There’s some feeling in his voice when he says it.
“There’s nothing like a bunch of Gods to show you how alone you really are.”
“Dude,” I say. “I’m sitting right here. You’re not alone.”
“You’re up!” the photographer says to me. “And make it quick. That stuff’s gonna turn into a lava flow under these lights.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of make-up,” Mr Shurin says when we stop by Jared’s house after the photos are done.
“Hi, Mr Shurin,” I say.
“You look like a TV anchorman.”
Jared and Mr Shurin hug in greeting. They always have, even now, when Jared is basically a giant over his father. He’s a good guy, Mr Shurin. Even short and kinda soft, you can still see why a half-Goddess might enjoy his company.
“I’m afraid it’s officially going to be me against your mom again, Mike,” he says. “The state party even hired me a proper campaign team.” He shrugs. “That’ll be new.”
“We’ll be two states away,” I say. “So good luck. Text me the result or something.”
He smiles, but he looks tired. There’s no way he’s going to win and he knows it, but the opposition party have to put up somebody. Mr Shurin’s never said exactly why he always runs, but my guess would be that my mom’s party tend to not be so thrilled with people who are different. There’s a lot of different in Mr Shurin’s life.
It looks like it might be wearing on him though. He’s got more grey hair on his temples than even last month. It’s never really occurred to me to wonder how me and Mel moving out will affect my parents because realistically the answer ’s got to be: not that much. But Jared’s an only child, he’s really close to his dad, and his mom isn’t around any more. Funny how you can forget that every family isn’t like yours.