The Misfortune of Distorted Truth

Sun Shines Bright

The door slammed behind M, rattling in its frame as if scolding her.
Tully's little black feet came pattering across the smooth varnished wood of the entry hall. The Brussels Griffon was ecstatic to see his girl home after seven lonely hours in the big empty house.
M frowned at the black petals peeking out from her clenched hand, wondering what her Isaac would think of such a phenomenon. With a sinking heart, her ears noticed the complete quiet, telling her there was a vacancy.
Isaac.
He promised.
The brass handle jiggled behind M, and she gasped. Was that him? But if it wasn't...
M's stomach squirmed at the thought that Asagwara might have found his way to her home and was trying to break in. The boy had hardly left her alone the entire rest of the school day. Did he dare pursue her even afterward?
"A little help, please," Isaac shouted desperately from the other side of the thick door. "This key is jank!"
M bit her lip in delight. "Assistance arriving." She turned the lock with her free hand and yanked the handle, letting the sun share its afternoon glory with the shadowed halls. The late summer warmth of outside and Isaac's smile hit M all at once. Almost instantly, her weekend glee was resurrected.
"I'm taking you to Market," Isaac proclaimed between pants. "As promised."
"Really?" M squealed.
"Yes." Isaac cleansed his brow of sweat with a motion of his hand. "Bring your homework for the car."
M leaped into his arms and he spun her around, the two of them laughing as they did. M was happy to finally visit Market, of course, but she'd take just her Isaac over that any day.
"Hey, what's that?" Isaac held M out in front of him with his strong arms and nodded at the slightly crumpled flower she still carried. He let her down to the floor.
M opened her fist to show Isaac the silver petals, which faded into a glimmering black as dark as night at the very ends. Beautiful as it was, M feared that it could be dangerous. She recalled the sorrow that had seeped into her the second she had touched it. While Isaac had erased her acknowledgment of those emotions inside her the moment he entered the house, M perceived they were present in the back of her mind.
Isaac took it between his forefinger and thumb. "I've never seen a flower like this before. Where'd you get it, baby?"
"Asagwara Nenge gave it to -" M stopped herself. Isaac didn't know who he was yet. "I met this boy on the bus. He said he used to live here and we were friends when we were younger. At school, he tried to take me somewhere, but I didn't like it so I ran away. On my way to math, he gave me that as his apologies and recited an odd poem, then left." She winced at her own explanation. It sounded stupid recounted aloud.
The teenager thoughtfully licked his lips. Nodding again, this time like he was confirming something, he offered his hand to M. She took it, and he led her out the door. "Off to Market, now," Isaac explained. "I bet that Tess would know what kind of flower this is."
"Tess?"
"This girl at Market. She works at the floral shop, she does. You'll like her."
M narrowed her eyes, searching her Isaac's face for feelings that, bless the stars, weren't there. His pale cheeks didn't turn pink in the least. She realized, with embarrassment, that her own face often flushed red around him. She wondered if he noticed.
"We can wait for the bus here. Should arrive in two minutes or less." Isaac nudged M and she blinked, coming back to earth. He patted the wooden bus bench.
"I think I see it, actually," M said blankly, pointing down the street. She didn't sit down.
The bus, big and white as spring clouds, rolled up to the two. There was a hiss as it slowed to a halt in front of the bench. The doors screeched open, and the driver gave them a welcoming gesture. M wasn't particularly surprised that he was more cheerful than her school bus driver.
When Isaac and M stepped onboard, the vehicle was nearly empty. M instinctively looked to the back, where Asagwara had waved to her on their own bus, but he was not there.
"To Market, to Market," Isaac sang playfully in M's ear. She giggled, instantly forgetting the other boy. Isaac made everything better and good again.
They sat down in navy blue leather seats and grew quiet, while the bus rumbled on. "Isaac?" M spoke up. "Who is... how... Well, what is your relationship with Tess?" She found herself almost spitting the name out like sour candy.
Isaac raised his eyebrows. Her obvious distaste had not gone unseen. "She's my best friend." He punched her lightly on the shoulder. "Right after you, baby."
"Really?" M beamed with pride.
"Forever. I mean, not forever, maybe. But, uhhh... you know what I mean!" He'd gone even paler, rather than blush.
M had never witnessed Isaac like this. So...so rattled. What did he mean? She didn't know.
But she couldn't bear to ask.
Still, she always could appreciate that Isaac didn't treat her like a child. Not just someone he babysat after school, anyway. M squeezed his hand and grinned at him. He returned the expression, clearly relieved she hadn't had him explain himself.
Eventually, the vehicle stopped at its destination - Market. M was beyond thrilled to have arrived after waiting so long. M had never been because there was something else her parents didn't approve of, which was outdoor shopping. Whenever she'd asked to go with them or with Isaac before, they had said disapprovingly, "Spending money should only be done where you may find an air conditioner and proper shelving."
"First, floral shop," Isaac told her, pulling her up. "We can look at the map directory too, once I've talked to Tess. We could have dinner here, if you'd like it, M."
"Absolutely, that sounds wonderful! I didn't know they had restaurants here!"
"Oh, they have everything here, baby." Isaac started walking, M behind him, and he gesticulated as he talked. "Food, flowers, animals, games, toys, books, furniture; anything you can imagine, honestly!
They left the bus and paused at the entrance. M, awed, looked up at the grand sign. It stood on two tall white pillars, which were chiseled with abstract designs. It must have been made of copper, she thought, and the letters of iron. The letters were painted a sparkling silver, but at some places, they chipped significantly to reveal the raw grey underneath. There were also ribbons of green and indigo that flapped magnificently in the breeze like flags from their positions tied to the pillars. M could have stood out there for hours admiring the sign alone.
"That's just the entrance, you know," Isaac laughed.
"Yeah, uh, right." M tugged her eyes away from the giant sign with some effort and followed him.
"The floral shop isn't too far." Isaac led M down the path to the left, which seemed to be the least crowded of the three possible directions. "This area is mainly for agricultural purposes. Restaurants down here too."
M shoved her hands in her pockets and walked at a slower pace than Isaac, squinting up at the sky. There were no clouds. Only the golden sun, shining bright. M recalled Isaac's special poem for her and smiled.
"Just on the right," Isaac said. He nudged M. There was someone lingering by a kiosk filled with a rainbow-variety of flowers, walking in an endless circle of obvious boredom. When she saw them approaching, she perked up and waved.
"Isaac!" the young woman called out.
M knew that tone well.
"Good to see you, Tess." Isaac, upon reaching the floral shop with M by his side, leaned his elbows on the counter.
"I thought you weren't coming back to Market till the weekend."
"I have a job for you."
Tess twiddled her thumbs. M pursed her lips in a similar fashion to how Mr. Patel did, examining the competition.
Competition?
That was too far.
M shook the thought from her head. Tess was certainly a pretty girl. She looked about fifteen or sixteen, meaning she could be older than Isaac. Her short straight hair was redder than Isaac's, without any hints of blonde. M figured she was of Irish descent. That was based on other Irish people she had met in her community, so there was still a reasonable possibility of being incorrect. Then there were Tess's eyes. They were blue, pure blue, which M thought she'd heard was rare for redheads. Isaac probably thought they were beautiful.
"Uh, M? Tell Tess about the flower, please."
M blinked rapidly. She kept getting distracted; she could not allow that to become a bad habit. "Yes, of course. Did you show her?"
"Yeah."
M saw that Tess was already holding the flower up to the sun, peering closely at its detail. She repeated her story about the boy and his mysterious flower gift for her, and how'd he'd recited for her a poem.
"What was the poem? Do you remember?" Tess asked.
"I think..." M closed her eyes and tried to bring back the memory. "A... flower of sorrows... It blooms and drinks tears?" That wasn't completely right. But, unfortunately, the words had become blurred in her mind even after only a few hours. She could feel herself cringing again.
"A mystery," Tess mumbled. "To be perfectly honest, I've never seen a flower like this." Her light blue irises seemed to grow dark and sadden. "But I have a guess on one matter. It's not ordinary."
"No kiddin'," M retorted under her breath. Isaac dropped his head and stared uncomfortably at the ground.
Tess scratched her neck. "When I touched it, I felt, you know, some sort of sadness." She got excited again and nearly crushed the flower, suggesting with glowing eyes, "Maybe it's magic! Where did that kid get this thing, did he say? Or why did he give it to you?"
M hunched her shoulders, scuffing her shoe on the dirt. Magic? she scoffed to herself. She knew well that magic wasn't real; her parents had never messed with her about that. She decided to avoid the questions, which, for some reason, were annoying her greatly. "Asagwara freaks me out. I have an unexplainable hunch that not everything's right with him, but at the same time, my brain is telling me to trust him. I don't understand it." This was the whole truth, but M didn't think Tess was being helpful at all, nor was she going to be. What, even, was the point of this visit? Isaac probably just wanted to see her sooner. M stroked the soft pink petals of a flower she couldn't name from where it was planted in a hanging bowl. Her gaze drifted to the roses, blood red, and then to the price tag. "Five dollars," she whispered aloud. For one rose?
Isaac had brought her one once.
"There may be more to him than meets the eye," Tess pointed out. Though M was not yet fond of her, she agreed with those words.
M was genuinely apprehensive about the entire situation.
Eye...
That particular word stood out to her. Asagwara's eyes were a unique color, like hers which were purple. The combination of brown and silver was the most peculiar thing M had ever seen.
There was an awful lot of oddness lately, too.
Suddenly, M felt as if she was being watched. Not by Isaac or Tess, no, but by hundreds and hundreds of Eyes all around her.
She lifted her chin to the sky and saw them - staring, glowering, glimmering in an assortment of colors that were as unusual as violet or silver.
One of the Eyes blinked.
Another seemed to leer at her.
M's own eyes widened in horror as the blue was ripped from the sky, separating like curtains to whirl and transform into a black as dark as night.
.........
Someone was there. There, above her, she could feel it. M tried with all her might to see who it was, but there was only black.
M feared she had gone blind.
"Are you okay?"
There was a pause. The voice had seemed distant, though M was most certain its owner was very close to her.
"I think she must have fainted, is all," the voice continued. "The sun out here can make people lightheaded sometimes."
M's breath was abruptly torn away. She wanted air: no, she needed air, right now, this second, but it was gone just like her sight and she remembered the Eyes and she was scared and she wanted her Isaac and she wished everything was normal again and -
The oxygen flooded into her lungs and M choked on it as if she had swallowed saltwater, she was so shocked. Her eyes fluttered open. She could make out three white figures, though they were blurred in her vision, leaning precariously over her. There was the thrilling red of Tess's hair, Isaac's kind and troubled face, and then a stranger.
A stranger?
"M, what happened?" Isaac shouted at her. He covered his mouth. M smiled at him, for she knew he was only worried.
Her happiness dissipated as the memory of the Eyes washed over her again. What were they? Why were they watching her? Why did they take away the sky?
So many questions that couldn't be answered.
"I saw the Eyes," M mumbled. Her vision cleared, and there was the sky above her. It was alright. It was there. It was blue.
The Eyes were gone.
"Eyes," the stranger repeated. M saw he was an Asian boy, probably about thirteen. If he was, then he actually looked it, unlike most thirteen-year-old boys at her school. They either appeared high-schoolers or preschoolers.
"Yeah." M held out her hand for Isaac to take and he hoisted her up, securing his arms around her. She was safe now, really safe.
"I'm Kenji," the teenager greeted her pleasantly. "Kenji Tokei." He pushed his thin-rimmed red glasses up the bridge of his nose. His almond-shaped eyes were warm brown.
"M Desjardins."
"Nice to meet you, M. Cool name. Are you from France?"
M was rather wonderstruck by the boy. "Both my parents were born there."
"That's super kakkoii," Kenji responded. "My father is Japanese and my mother is Korean. I was born in Japan and lived there for eight years."
M tilted her head at him. There was something about Kenji, like there was something about Asagwara, except it was good. The moment she'd started talking to him she had forgotten about the Eyes, though they blazed like fire in her memory now as she remained quiet. She assumed he was trying to divert her attention from the embarrassing fact that she had just fainted at nothing in a public area.
"Do you go to my school?" M asked hopefully, thinking him unusually nice. "In La Cuvette, my town?"
"No." Kenji sounded rueful. "I go to Fishertown Middle School. Much less diverse than your community, I might add. You know, I'm fascinated that where you live has so many people from different countries despite being a mainly French establishment. Then again, take a look at America in its whole." He chuckled.
M released herself from Isaac's hug and turned to face him, Tess, and Kenji too as he moved to be in front of her. "Isaac, I want to go home. I'm not at my best." Her forehead felt hot and sticky from sweat and stress.
"Aw. No restaurant, baby?"
M blew air out her lips. "Well..."
"You don't have to." Isaac's mouth formed a sideways line. She knew he was disappointed. M glanced at Kenji, who was scuffing his white sneaker on a stone. Tess ruffled his long black hair affectionately, and they smiled at each other. M wondered if Tess cared for Kenji like Isaac did for her.
"If Kenji can come." Kenji turned his grin to her. M could tell they had already developed a friendship, even in such a short time. She hesitated. "Oh, and, Tess too."
Isaac was probably more pleased than he let on. "That's perfect. You can pick out somewhere on the directory, then." Tess took Kenji's hand, and Isaac took M's, and the four made their way down the path.
"Good thing business is awful today," Tess remarked. "Ha, never thought I'd say that."
Upon reaching the directory, M selected a restaurant that had a satisfactory menu. She hadn't been totally sure about staying here much longer until she was given the option to indulge in a giant ice cream sundae. She hadn't eaten ice cream in what seemed like ages.
Maybe she would share one with Kenji.
The Eyes lingered in her mind, though, a painful pulse in the back of her head.
Inner peace only distanced itself from her. The peace she could never have.
Isaac opened the door and waited for the two girls and Kenji to enter before coming in himself.
"When we get home, I need to tell you something," M whispered to Isaac as he caught up to her. "About the...fainting, or whatever happened."
"You sure you're feeling okay, baby?" Isaac said. He felt her forehead, but she pushed him away.
"Yes."
The group was directed to a booth. They sat on cool yellow seats with a few small tears in the material, M and Kenji scooting over to the windows on their sides. M noted there was a dab of ketchup on the wooden table; the wait staff would not be getting a five-star review from her. She blinked, surprised at herself at the thought: it seemed like the haughty sort of thing her parents would do, as if a minor imperfection were terribly beneath her standards.
"Do you know what you want?" Isaac asked her.
M filled him in on her order. She had a thing about ordering - not her favorite.
They sat patiently in anticipation of their waiter. M bobbed her head slightly to the music that played in the quiet restaurant, observing her surroundings as she did. It was nice here. Classy, even, despite the sickening mustard-ish color of the seating.
M felt a prickle on the back of her neck as the tiny hairs stood on end.
Someone was watching her. Them.
Watching.
M's stomach lurched as she looked behind her to see Asagwara Nenge standing there, a few yards away, his weird silver eyes piercing her soul.