"Why did that happen?"
Girl had cajoled but largely forced Shane away from the scene. Her semi-catatonia, her waking sleep, was fading now. In the library attic, Girl was able to get Shane to remove her filthy clothes, covered in the last of Virgil's life. She had put these in a garbage bag, careful to not contaminate anything in the attic. She would burn these clothes later, during the spring festival. No one would notice the additional kindling or, if they did, they wouldn't remember.
Shane was wearing a bathrobe, as it was the easiest thing to make her put on. She was crying softly, wiping her nose on her sleeve until Girl got her toilet paper from one of the bathrooms. Girl kept her distance, watching Shane sniffle on the bed until she was ready to speak.
"What do you want me to say? That there is a point or meaning to Virgil begin shot?"
Shane shrugged weakly. "It should have been me. It hit me first. It bounced off my neck and into him. I was supposed to be dead."
"And you aren't. That isn't your fault."
"Why him? He didn't do anything. He was innocent."
Girl approached Shane's bed cautiously, sitting next to her. They looked at one another and Girl wiped away a rolling tear with the edge of her sleeve. "There isn't a moral to his story. Sorry," she finally answered.
Sadness abdicated its seat to confusion. "What?"
"Shane, sometimes the wrong person dies. The universe isn't orderly enough. There are… we can't always have some pat answers. Sometimes things just happen."
Shane seemed to be considering this. Of all the contextualizing she had done these past few months, this was the strangest concept. She didn't have to believe in some god above her head to think that there was a purpose to things. How could she be the heroine if things could just end without answers and resolution? How could she trust that her story would not end with a bang or whimper, but just end?
"Gabe brought me back, can't you do something?"
She gave a long sigh. "I can't talk about it."
"What? "
Girl looked at her. "No. I want to but. I can't. Not won't, can't. Lack the ability or aptitude. Can not."
"Was there a point or moral to my being killed?"
Girl looked downward.
Confusion, in turn, knew its reign had come to the end and now was the time for righteous indignation. "What does that mean? Why are there these things you can't talk about?"
Girl shook her head, offering her palms in contrition.
Shane turned and, taking her palms, stated. "Girl, I need some time alone. Can you… is that okay?"
"You want me to go."
"Yeah, I want you to go."
Girl swallowed. "And you don't want me to come back."
Shane bit the side of her lip, the tears coming again. How could nights be this long? "I'll call you."
Girl leaned in for a kiss. Shane stepped back and caught Girl's look of shocked resignation.
"I love you," Girl said in what felt like the first time.
"I know."
Girl walked out of the attic door without a look back.
rate
email
print
link to this page
