“Stop trying to make classical music happen. It’s never coming back,” she called from the tree. I ignored her as I usually did and kept walking.
“Walking away. I see how it is. I know your secret, Cello Boy,” she cackled and swung her feet back and forth. I turned around to see if she would fall out of the tree, and I saw a glint of metal poking from her belt. Oh god, I thought. She has a knife. Eventually, she stopped laughing long enough to see that I was still standing there.
“What do you want from me, Maria?” I said, glaring at the ground.
“You know what I want, Carlos. I need a bass player,” she said, her blue eyes flashing. I wanted to walk away right then, but the thought of being in a rock band thrilled me more than the interpretive dance class I had later that day. I sighed, accepting the fact that she would never leave me alone. Her eyes glinted as she smiled.
“Meet me at The Blue Chair at three and I’ll introduce you to the band,” she said as she hopped down from the tree. She barely was almost a foot shorter than me, but that did nothing to make her seem less terrifying. I watched her walk off before heading to science class. At least she wouldn’t be ambushing me anymore.
I walked away feeling half satisfied, but there was a flash of blue behind me. I turned around, but there was nothing behind me. That somehow didn’t comfort me, because I still felt like I was being watched. It’s probably just Maria being her usual psychotic self, I thought.
I had always found it hard to talk to Maria, although she didn’t look like much. She wore sandals and sundresses like a lot of the other girls I saw. It might have been because I’m shy, but I honestly am scared to death of her. There were lots of rumors circulating around the college about her. Some people said she was an expert in knife throwing.
I mulled these things over as I biked to The Blue Chair later that day. As rain pounded on my helmet, I remembered something that made my stomach drop. I had no idea how to play bass. Oh well, I thought. It can’t be that different from cello. I finally arrived at the restaurant. As I shook out my shaggy brown hair, I noticed it was completely empty. As I turned around to leave, there was a flash of blue, and a sack was dropped over my head, and my hands were tied behind my back. Three sets of hands lifted me off the ground and carried me away.
“Help!” I screamed, my voice cracking.
“It’s no use, no one will hear you,” a deep voice said. I struggled, but I could not escape. I yelled one last time for good measure, and the hands threw me into some type of car. I heard the engine start up and felt the car moving.
A couple minutes later, the car stopped, and I was carried inside. They set me on the ground and someone took the sack off of my head.
“Maria,” I shouted. “This is not okay! Not okay at all.” I looked around, but there was no sign of anyone. I seemed to be in some kind of studio. Suddenly, Maria came rushing in through the door, her face red with anger. She ran up and kicked me in the face like some kind of ninja.
“Is this some kind of sick joke? Who are you and why did you take me here?” She said. I tried to push myself off the ground, but I was seeing spots, and I was too stunned to move.
“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about. I thought you brought me here,” I stammered. I pushed myself off the ground and turned back towards Maria. She was hunched over on the ground, her tanned shoulders moving up and down like she was laughing or crying. She turned towards me, but it looked like she was staring right through me.
“Carlos Santuro, they have come for you,” she said. Then, as if nothing happened, she turned and walked from the room. I ran after her, but I was so tired. As I followed Maria out the door, I noticed how different everything looked. The sky was painted on, the grass was plastic. Everything was fake.
“Maria, what’s happening?” I felt my throat tighten like I was going to cry.
“I don’t Carlos, I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.
I would like to tell you that it was all a dream, but that wouldn’t be completely true. I did wake up, I went to The Blue Chair and joined Maria’s band, and now we’re touring all around the country. I woke up, but nothing has changed. I still see the occasional flash of blue, and I still feel like I’m being watched, and though she never talks about, I know Maria does too. Her words still ring in my mind. They have come for you.
