Midnight Girl Part 13

Everyone fell quiet. Cat said, "I've got an hour?" Olujimi nodded. "Is the meeting over?" He shook his head.

"What's left?" "You accept the decision?" She looked at Ilya and Tarika, then her father. "Yes. First of the Medianoches. Yes."

Olujimi said, "Then you can end the meeting and--" He looked at Professor M as he looked away. Olujimi turned back at Cat. "And have the hour to do as you wish. But after that time--"

"Any loyal member of the Five Clans is supposed to kill me." He nodded. Ms. Arkan said, "Cat. Several of my people are watching this house." "So I shouldn't try to escape?" "Or if you want to go outside in the next hour, someone must go with you." Cat looked at Tarika and her father. "I don't want to go anywhere else." It was strange to see the people she loved being so sad and so angry at the same time. She was grateful for an excuse to look away when Olujimi said, "Someone has to stay near you. Until."

"Who?" "Whoever is chosen. Or you choose. To ensure--" "I die. In an hour." He nodded. "How do you--" Professor M said, "Give her some time, at least!" Olujimi said, "The hour's begun. The sooner the details are arranged --" Less than an hour. She glanced out the window. The sky was the deepest Arizona blue. Were clouds whiter in Arizona because of the clear sky? Last night, she had thought she would never see the day again. Now she would never see the night.

She looked at the four representatives. "I can't kill myself. I would just keep waiting for a miracle. One of you has to. I get to choose?"

Olujimi nodded, and then the others did.

"I don't care how. Whatever's fastest and most painless, because, ouch, bad. As for who--" She pointed at Saeed al-Rahman.

He touched his chest. "Me?" She nodded. "But I never wanted this!" "You'll go along with the decision, right?" She saw his lips tighten. Then he said, "Yes." "And if I choose you, you'll do it."

His nostrils flared with an inhalation. Then he repeated, "Yes." Professor M raised his hand. Cat said, "Yes?" "That's not fair. Xandra started this. Olujimi finished it. Let one of them--" Auntie Fong said, "I should do it. My vote--"

Cat pointed at her ring and told her father, "The only one you might be able to forgive someday is Mr. Rahman."

As Professor M looked down, Ilya stood and shouted at Cat, "Don't you care? You can't just do this like--"

Ms. Arkan tugged on his arm. "Respect her choice." Cat met Ilya's eyes and nodded. He groaned in despair, and sat. Cat said, "Anything else?" Olujimi said, "When you adjourn the meeting, Auntie Fong, Xandra, Ilya, and I will join the ones outside. We'll return at--" He glanced at his watch. "Four twenty-five. Saeed must stay near you, but if you give your word you won't escape, he can give you some privacy."

Cat nodded. "I promise. That's it?" She studied each face. Ilya and Olujimi were staring at the table. Her father had his eyes closed. She looked at Tarika last and thought, I wish Dad hadn't let her come, but I'm glad he did.

She said, "Adjourned."

Professor M grabbed her hand, gasped once, then released it. Everyone else stood. Olujimi, Mr. Rahman, Auntie Fong, and the Arkans went toward the door as Tarika ran to hug Cat, who thought, Best friends forever, as they embraced, though she couldn't say it.

Then she pushed Tarika back and called, "Ilya? Can you stay? If you want? I mean, you can stay. If you want."

He said, "If you want." Ms. Arkan said, "Ilya--" He glared at her. She nodded and left. Professor M said, "Cat? We'll do this any way you want. Don't worry about hurting anyone's feelings. We can all go, or we can all stay, or you can say who you want to see when, or whatever you like."

Cat said, "I wish I could eat ice cream now."

He nodded. "We got coconut sorbet while you were napping. I could go get some. I'll go get some. I'll fix it in the kitchen. Come when-- Whenever." He spun his chair and rolled out. In the hallway, Mr. Rahman closed the door, leaving Cat alone with Ilya and Tarika.

Ilya said, "Throw me across the room so no one can say I helped, then go."

Tarika looked out the window. "There's a big guy at the corner of the house. You can outrun him. The sooner you do it, the better. They'll expect you to wait a while before trying anything, I bet."

Cat said, "I gave my word."

Tarika said, "You heard them! It doesn't matter what you say in a war! This is our war right now."

Ilya said, "It's true. Any of them would lie to the enemy. Right now, they're--" Cat said, "Doing what they think is best." Ilya nodded. "Which is stupid." Cat said, "I wanted to thank you. For--" "So escape! That's thanking me." "The big guy outside the window?" "Uncle Istvan. He's not slow, but you could, uh--" "He's armed, and he's fought nighters." Ilya nodded. Cat said, "And if he yells, Mr. Rahman comes in." Ilya nodded again. "And they know I'm in this room, so your Uncle Istvan isn't the only one watching this side of the house." "Why do you say this?" "Do you want me to kill your uncle?" "No!"

"Then how--" "I'll jump him. That'll distract him." "And you'll be helping me, and they'll have to kill you." Tarika said, "I'll be your hostage. They can't blame anyone if--" Ilya shook his head. "If a nighter has a hostage-- You blame the nighter and shoot through the hostage." Tarika said, "Okay. What's that leave?" Cat said, "Having coconut sorbet." "But--"

"Having coconut sorbet with you guys would be really good." Tarika frowned. "You don't even know if you like coconut sorbet." "It'll still be good." "That's stupid, Cat." Ilya coughed slightly, as if clearing his throat, then shook his head.

"No. I had lemon sorbet in Venice. It was good. Coconut sorbet. That is probably good, too."

Tarika said, "We can't just--" Cat nodded. "Can. Please, Tee." "It's--" "I know."

Tarika nodded. "Okay. Sorbet." Cat smiled. "Rhymes." Tarika gave a small smile in return. "I'm a don't-know-it-poet." Cat said, "The best. Hug?" Tarika nodded and stepped close. Cat said, "Ilya? If you'd like--"

He nodded and stepped in to join them. Cat thought, Okay. This is good. Lots of people don't get this much. I'm going to cry really hard now if-- She said, "Sorbet?"

"Okay," Tarika agreed, and Ilya nodded.

Cat went to the door and tapped. Mr. Rahman opened it. Cat said, "We're ready for sorbet. You can join us."

He shook his head. "If you change your mind--" "I won't." "But if you do--" "I wish you hadn't chosen me." "If, you know, it's got to be, I think you're the best choice." He closed his eyes. Cat thought, I could hit him and run down the hall and charge through the yard and maybe every shot would miss-- But they wouldn't miss. This way is better for everyone else, and it's just the same for me.

Mr. Rahman opened his eyes. "My opinion of you has only grown since I came here."

"Thank you."

In the kitchen, her father was sitting at the table. He turned toward Cat, but before he could speak, Cat said, "Sorbet?"

He pointed at the bowls, each holding a single white mound. "I found mango chunks, then thought of almonds--"

"It looks great." "Want two scoops? You could have--" She shook her head. "One's perfect." She sprinkled almonds and mango into her bowl, then went to the table and set a chair in the sun. She thought, Sunlight is nice. Hot, but nice. Okay, skin cancer sucks, but sunlight is nice.

She looked at the coconut sorbet. What if she didn't like it? It was a bad time to hurt anyone's feelings.

She looked at the others. They were waiting for her to take the first bite. She thought, This is easier for me. I've only got to be strong for a few minutes, but they have to live with this for the rest of their lives.

She picked up the bowl. The sorbet didn't quite look like ice cream. It looked more ice, less cream. It smelled like coconut. She imagined a coconut, brown and furry, split in half, its milk and flesh bare. She should've shared one recently with Dad or Tarika.

She scooped half a spoonful of sorbet and put it in her mouth. Cold was good when it wasn't too cold. Sweet was good when it wasn't too sweet. She swallowed. It wasn't wonderful, but it was really, really good. And really, really good, she realized, was wonderful enough. She nodded. "Good choice." Professor M looked away. "Glad to hear it, kid." Ilya said, "Coconut is even better than lemon." Cat thought, He and I could've gotten a pint of each and compared.

Like, at a picnic, or something. That would've been nice. I never had a date, and he would be the best date ever. Maybe he and Tee will go on a date. I could say they should, but that might jinx them.

She took a bite with mango, then smiled. "Mango's great with this."

Tarika said, "Fruit sugars must not bother, uh, I mean, I'm glad. Mango is great."

Cat took a bite with almonds. She liked the crunch between her teeth. She thought, I should've eaten more almonds. Would cashews be even better? I should suggest that. No. They'll think they should've bought cashews, and the dessert isn't what matters. But it's nice.

Each bite tasted better than the one before. When she got to the last, she thought, I could save that for a minute. Then she thought, That would be really melodramatic. I just want to finish this treat now as if I'm just finis.h.i.+ng a treat.

The last bite was best. She said, "That was totally ex," and looked at the clock. 4:20. She thought, The end is near.

That was funny. But if she laughed, she would have to explain, and no one else would agree.

She carried her bowl to the sink. Her father said, "I'll get that."

Cat said, "It's okay." She turned on the water and set the bowl and spoon under it. The water was cool, and then it was warmer. She should've paid more attention to water. She squirted soap into the wash pad. Peppermint was a great scent for soap. She washed the bowl. It had a chip in the side, and she had meant to throw it out, but Dad had said it was still useful, and she was glad he did, because he was right. She touched her finger to the chip, then set the bowl in the dish drainer.

Tarika was watching her. Ilya was looking at the pepper shaker that looked like a black Scottish Terrier which had a white mate for salt that was broken or lost a long time ago, but Cat couldn't remember which. Her father was staring at the crayon drawing on the refrigerator that she had made in first grade. A green man in a wheelchair sat beside a purple girl, and they both had huge grins. Under the man was written "DADDy" and under the girl "CAt."

She stepped beside her father. He put his arm around her waist, and she rested her hand on his head. After a minute or two, he said, "I love you, Cat."

"I know, Dad." She bent over and kissed his forehead. "I love you, too."

Someone was by the door. She looked up. Saeed al-Rahman said, "It's time."

She took the Medianoche ring off her finger and held it out to her father.

He said, "I don't--" Then he nodded and took it.

More people came to the door. She glanced up: Ms. Arkan, Auntie Fong, and Uncle Olujimi. She had never seen Olujimi look sadder. Auntie Fong's expression made Cat embarra.s.sed: it was respect. But Ms. Arkan's face seemed the most troubled. Then Cat understood why: Ms. Arkan would be happier if Cat tried to fight or escape. That would prove the vote had gone correctly.

She didn't want to think about people who thought she should die. She said, "Dad? Would it be okay to give Tarika the big mirror? I mean, if--"

"Sure," he said.

She looked at Ilya. "I would give you something, but I don't know what you like."

Ilya said, "I like you."

She said, "Okay. I mean, I like you. You can have my purple blanket, or--" She looked at Tarika. "You two divide the stuff in my room. Give what you don't want to someone who can use it, okay?"

Tarika nodded. "Don't worry."

"Thanks, Tee." Cat looked at the people she loved. "No one has to stay. Really."

Professor M said, "You can't order me away, kid. Anything else--" "It's not an order. It's just okay." "Good." Cat looked at Tarika and Ilya. "Really."

Tarika whispered, "Staying." Ilya nodded. Cat looked at Mr. Rahman. "Okay." He said, "Where do you want to, ah, go?" "Outside?" "Sorry. The neighbors." "Oh. Right." "The garage?" Cat shook her head. The garage was dark and dusty and full of cobwebs, a great place to play when she was a girl, but not the last place she wanted to see. She wanted to stand at her bedroom window and look at the mountains. But it was a great room. She didn't want anyone to go there and think about her death instead of her life.

Maybe the bas.e.m.e.nt? But it was as dark as the garage, and that was where Granny Lupe--where Mama--had lived. Or the parlor? Aunt Ysabel had died there. Maybe Cat should, too.

But she wanted a place of her own, where she could look at the mountains and try not to think about anything at all.

No one ever used the dining room. You could see mountains in almost any direction in Tucson. She said, "The dining room?"

Mr. Rahman nodded.

Cat said, "Can I be looking out the window and not see what happens?"

He nodded again. "It'll be fast?" "Very." "Okay." She stepped toward the door, thinking, Goodbye, kitchen.

Breakfast was best, but it was always good eating here with Dad and Granny Lupe.

In the hall, she thought, Goodbye, hallway. You were a great place to skate, even if Dad and Granny Lupe didn't agree.

In the dining room, she thought, h.e.l.lo, dining room. It's too bad Dad isn't rich so you can be beautiful again. But you're pretty. You're a good place to be.

She went to the nearest window. h.e.l.lo, window. This is a good view. If I was a window, I would be proud of a view like this. It's not as dramatic as an upstairs view, but who needs drama all the time?

She turned to face everyone. Why didn't I think of some last words? I should've been ready. She said, "Make things better, okay? And don't worry about me because, you know, it's been totally the best. Really." She looked at her father and Tarika. "I love you."

The professor nodded. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and Cat wondered why she had ever thought his face was a mask.

Tarika put both hands in front of her, cupping them together in the shape of a heart.

Cat smiled. Tarika gasped and began crying loudly. Cat's father squeezed Tarika's arm, and the crying continued.

Ilya was staring at the floor. He looked up. Cat realized Tarika's sobs weren't the only ones in the room. Ilya shook his head fiercely. His eyes were wide and pleading. Cat bit her lip, then nodded. He stopped shaking his head, but his tears continued.

She looked at Uncle Olujimi and Auntie Fong, then at Ms. Arkan. She thought, Do I forgive them? How can I forgive them? This is what they wanted. They should live with it. They should live with it forever.

Then she looked closer at their faces and said, "I know you didn't want this."

She glanced back at her dad and Tarika. Tee still held her hands together like a heart. Dad still held Tarika's arm. Cat knew she would break into tears in another second, so she told Mr. Rahman. "I'll look out the window now."

He nodded, and she turned away. She had thought she would stare at the mountains, but she was watching the sky. Her last words had been, "I'll look out the window now." She smiled. She should tell Dad to put that on her tombstone. People would see it and go, "What's that mean?"

But she didn't want a tombstone. She wanted her ashes scattered in the desert. She had told him that years ago. Did he remember?

He was her dad. Of course he remembered. She thought, Blue is prettier than I knew. She should have asked for music. Why didn't she ask Tee to sing something? Not now, but earlier. Eating coconut sorbet and listening to Tee sing would've been perfect.

Someone was crying softly near the hallway. Mr. Rahman stepped behind her. She heard cloth rustling. His suit. He was reaching inside his jacket. He was taking something out. Would it hurt much?

It would hurt as much as it hurt. Then it wouldn't.

Blue is nice, she thought. How far do you see when you see blue in the sky?

She smelled metal. If it was a gun, would she hear him c.o.c.k it? Do you only c.o.c.k old-fas.h.i.+oned guns?

In the blue, two dark shapes appeared, growing quickly. The silhouettes of birds flying free. As fine a last sight as anyone could want.

She heard Mr. Rahman inhale softly.

Two birds. Large and black and beautiful. Flying toward Casa Medianoche.

She heard cloth sliding between Mr. Rahman's arm and ribs as he thrust something toward her heart.

She thought, A fine last sight. Two ravens.