When I'm Away From You

“Oh, god, this is–'' Alexis gags, dropping the damp owl pellet back to the barn floor. It isn’t the smell that horrifies her, or the gleaming sheen of digestive slime that clings to the small regurgitated mass, both of which she expected; it is the heat that is shocking, so pervasive and intense that, for a moment, she anticipated the fluttering pulse of a tiny heartbeat against her hand. She swallows, scrubbing the phantom sensation from her palms. She knows that the mouse is dead; nothing left of it now but indigestible fur and bone. She stares warily at the pellet on the floor of the barn, steam rising from it in delicate forms through the chilled night air.

The barn owl trills scornfully from the cage, and she jumps. Dark eyes gleam in the white feathered plane of its face as it slowly blinks, half-lidded against the glare of candles. Alexis shivers, caught in the endless stare of her unwilling participant. “Shut up.” She wavers as she crouches, reaching again for the repugnant object. “You don’t get to judge me, I need this.” She gusts determined breaths through clenched teeth. “I can do this. It’s just nature. This is what happens when owls eat mice, no big deal.”

She has waited hours for the bird to finish digesting its meal, and she is not going to shy away now that the moment has arrived. Lightly cradling the pellet in her hand again, Alexis moves to the barrel top and centers it on the spread of parchment paper, amidst the burning votive candles. She squares her shoulders, pausing to check the faded ink of the stolen book once more. Time to get what she came for.

She peels back the cooling layers, separating bone from clinging fur and digestive muck, and sets the precious white fragments aside as she works. Prodding and pulsating the remaining glob between her fingers, she searches carefully for any remaining shards; satisfied that every sliver and chip has been retained, she drops the slick mass to the floor and turns again to her prized pickings.

She wipes them clean with a cloth, and takes stock. Tiny skull, fragmented teeth, the delicate curve of separated ribs, the small grooves of elongated toes. With this tiny pile of soft white bone, she will do more than read her future; she will reclaim it.

“Okay. Okay, this is it. Please work.”

Her whispers are drowned by the exclaimed, Tu-Whoo-Tu-Whoo of the owl, and the flapping of wings as it crowds the bars of the small cage that holds it.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten you.” She makes quick work of pulling a long feather from the bird, careful to not get caught by the vicious beak or talons of the predator as it thrashes in protest. She glares, willing it back into silence. It hoots once more, and continues to stare back at her. Alexis turns away from the cage and lifts the paper, sliding clean bones onto the soft bed of an herb and powder lined stone bowl. The glass vial is next, swirled lightly with a loose wrist before she pours the acrid contents over the mixture and reads from the book with clearly spoken intent.

"Here goes nothing." She fishes her pocket knife from her jeans and opens the blade with a quiet snick. Pulling her glove back and pressing the sharp blade into her palm with a grimace, she hovers her hand over the bowl and counts, carefully, for three drops of blood to fall across the swimming bones. The knife is traded for the feather, and she holds it lightly in her fingers as she dips the vane into the bowl and swirls the contents clockwise to promote the change she requires.

There is a whisper, like a soft crush of pressure in the air, that fills the vacant barn around her. She shudders, and sets the feather aside. The contents of the bowl look the same.

“That’s it?” Alexis frowns into the concoction, hesitant to touch the bones but desperate to observe any change.

Tu-Tu-Whoo-Tu-Whoo!

The cry from behind sends her reeling, lurching sideways in fear. She spins toward the bird, an angry cuss already forming, and is arrested by the glow that emanates from the cage.

The dark pupils of the bird’s eyes have been overwhelmed by rings of acid green, consuming all traces of the rich brown irises from minutes ago. The barn owl holds her gaze, intractable as always.

“It worked,” she laughs, incredulous. “It fucking worked!”

She grabs the stone bowl and tips the contents against her hand, straining the liquid to the dusty floor. Frantic now in her excitement, the bones are spread quickly back across the parchment, laid out in no particular order as she wipes them clean of detritus and foam. She marvels at the intricate sigils that scar them now, etched in dark and impossibly small lines across the gleaming white surfaces. They are dry and hard, ancient looking now in the soft, wavering light. She gathers them into a pouch with shaking hands, and hurriedly snuffs the candles before adding them, dripping with hot wax, into her backpack of supplies.

Patting her pockets to make sure she still has her phone and keys, Alexis runs to her car with the small bag of altered bones clutched tightly in her grip. Time to get the answers she needs.

____________________________________________________

“Where did you get these?”

“It doesn’t matter where, can you do it?” Alexis is breathing heavily as she paces the linoleum floor, working her hands in agitation around the emptied bag.

“No, Lexi, I can’t just do a reading on bones I’m not even familiar with, there’s a lot more that goes into it.” Jaime looks confused and, for a moment, offended at Alexis’ request. “And come on, you should know that. What’s going on?”

Her partner is concerned, and Alexis knows it has as much to do with her late night disappearance from their shared apartment as it does the mysteriously carved bones laid out on the kitchen table between them. Her behavior has been errant, and her excuses are thin. Jaime is smart, and attentive, and Alexis knows she has to tread carefully.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. What was I thinking?” She smiles, trying to relax her posture as she gathers up the tiny bones again. “I just thought you might like to try. These are cool, right?”

“Alexis, stop.” Their hands are cold on her wrist. “I’m serious, what is going on with you? Where the hell were you all night?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t text. It’s just finals, I’m freaking out. There’s a lot at stake right now, you know? It’s fine.” She stoops to kiss them on the forehead, brushing soft curls away from their face and smoothing the frown lines on their forehead. “Why don’t you head to bed? I’ll be up soon.”

“No.” They stand slowly, bracing long fingers on the tabletop, their eyes suddenly averted. Something about their stance is guarded, and Alexis feels a churn of trepidation in her gut. “We need to talk about last night.”

Alexis is relieved to hear more worry in their tone than accusation. She sets the bones inside her backpack and lowers it as subtly as she can under the table. “I told you, traffic was bad. I got home as soon as I could last night.” She remembers briefly the thudding pulse of bass that had nauseated her the night before as she had crouched in her car and debated her options. Unable to force herself to leave the safety of the vehicle, she had reversed the car and abandoned the venue altogether, glitter and chilled sweat still clinging to her skin from the concert. Jaime doesn't need to know.

She shrugs her way into their arms and smiles carefully, swaying gently as they immediately curl her into a loose hug. “But your show was amazing, and I’m sorry I missed you at the after party. I swear, I looked everywhere for you. I’ll make it up to you?”

“It's not that." Jaime doesn’t smile, and the sudden crease and damp of their eyes gives Alexis pause. "There was an accident last night, after the concert. A hit and run.” Jaime whispers. “Someone we know.”

“What?” Alexis can feel her blood turn sluggish and painful, an aching thud inside the veins of her neck. She does not need this right now. She can't bear to think through the possibilities of what it might mean. “Who?”

Jaime’s voice broke on the name. “It was Malcolm.”

Malcolm Harris. Jaime’s ex.

“Is he–” Alexis swallows hard, her suddenly dry tongue clinging to the roof of her mouth. “How is he?”

“Love, he didn’t make it.” Jaime smooths shaking hands up and down Alexis’ arms as their own tears start to fall. “I found out a few hours ago, from Morgan.”

Alexis nods distractedly in her shock, remembering Malcolm’s older sister as a bubbly, flirtatious senior, the beacon of popularity during their freshman year of high school.

“I’m sorry I lashed out.” Jaime sniffs and pulls her in tighter for a hug. Alexis feels their lips press hard against her hair as she stands limply in their embrace. “I know it’s irrational, but I got the text, and then when I couldn’t reach you on your phone I felt like everything was falling apart, and the longer you were gone, the more I panicked, and–”

“It’s fine,” Alexis murmurs. “I’m sorry, my phone was dead.” She shudders at the word. “I’m sorry.”

“Can we both just go to bed?” Jaime’s hands are clawed as they scratch through their short and wavy hair, palms pressed tightly now against rheumy eyes. “We can talk about him tomorrow, and bone divination, or whatever you want to talk about, but–”

“Yes.” Alexis interrupts, soothing. “Let’s get you a sleeping pill and head upstairs, okay? Everything else can wait.” She kisses Jaime softly. “I’m so sorry, Jaimes. I know he meant a lot to you. I’m so, so sorry.” She hopes her sincerity shows in her eyes as she watches Jaime struggle for control. Jaime has accused her of being self-centered in the past, and this is one time that she needs her partner to know how genuinely she supports them, despite the relationship history of their loss. With everything else falling apart around her, Alexis could not afford to lose Jaime too.

Together, they make quiet and well-rehearsed work of getting situated, dressing in soft, familiar t-shirts and climbing into bed, passing a glass of water between them to swallow their respective sleep-aids. Tears are gently soothed, cell phones plugged in, and bedside lamps turned off. They murmur affectionate nicknames to one another, and promises of a better tomorrow, and give themselves gradually to the dark embrace of sleep.

Alexis fights to relax her body within Jaime’s diminishing hold, and carefully inches her palmed sleeping pill between the mattress and the box spring. The questions might have changed, but now, more than ever, the need for answers threatens to suffocate her. She has no time for sleep.

____________________________________________________

____________________________________________________

“Alexis? Can we talk?”

Jaime is hesitant in a way that Alexis is not used to seeing. Their voice is quiet and subdued, and their stance is self-conscious as they hover in the doorway of the bedroom. Life has moved in a blur in the week following Alexis' magical venture, and the strain of grief and stress is reflected in both of them.

Finals are in full swing, and despite the relief that Alexis feels with every closed blue book and lecture hall door, there is a tension that curls deeper in her stomach, like a hunger she cannot satiate. Jaime is moving slowly through the stages of grief, visiting with old high school friends, and organizing a community tip-line to drum up leads on the hit and run. They haven’t been sleeping much. Alexis frowns, flipping her applications closed and sliding them to the floor.

“Everything okay?”

“Maybe. I hope so.” Jaime sits at the edge of the bed and pulls a deck of cards from the pocket of their hoodie. “I did a reading for you.”

Alexis can feel her crossed legs tense beneath her as the top three cards are turned face up on the bedspread between them.

She scans the well-used Lenormand cards in dawning horror. There is one detail that has escaped all of her careful steps and plans in the haze of the most stressful week of her life, and it comes drifting back into focus now on a dizzying wave of nausea. The goddamn owl, left in a tiny cage in an abandoned barn, eight full days ago.

“Lexi, I’m really worried. You haven’t been yourself, and I know we’ve been through a lot lately, but–”

“Yeah, exactly, and I don’t need your magic crap on top of it, okay?” She pushes the cards aside as she stands, ready to run from the apartment to her car.

“Alexis!”

“I have to go, I have something I forgot to do.”

“Please, Alexis. Don’t walk out that door.”

She hesitates, frantically trying to remember how often barn owls need to eat. Surely, eight days was far too long. The odds of being in time to do anything about it now are slim to none. She turns to look at Jaime, still seated on the bed, with a sheen of tears in their eyes.

“Fine. What is this oh-so-scary reading about?” She crosses her arms, determined to ignore the hurt look that Jaime sends her. They slide the first card back to the edge of the bed, face up.

“Mice is a negative card. Slow decay, something eating away at you. It can be literal or metaphorical. Disease, or hunger. Deficiency, or a flaw. Something that starts small and gets worse and worse as time goes on.” Alexis clenches her jaw at sight of the huddled owls as Jaime turns the second card. "The Birds are neutral, and represent anything from gossip or excitement, to worry, or anxiety. Something worth talking about, good or bad.”

Jaime continues to speak, laying out the final card. The gaunt face of the reaper grins mockingly above a wicked blade.

“The Scythe, another negative card, is a warning. It speaks of danger, accidents, or hasty decisions. A reckoning.”

The room descends into silence as Alexis scans each card in turn, putting all the pieces together. Her voice is shaky, but she attempts a grin as she finally speaks. “So, what you’re telling me is that we need to talk about a hasty decision that gets worse and worse as time goes on? If this is about me investing in Bitcoin, you are as much at fault as me, you fronted me the money.”

“Alexis, this is serious.”

“I know, I’m down like two thousand dollars. Okay, no, just wait,” her tone is regretful as Jaime stands to leave. “I’m sorry, I’m being an ass. I know you take all of this seriously, and I know you worry.” She reaches for Jaime in consolation. "It's just not my thing, Jaimes."

“Not your thing.” Jaime takes a step away in disbelief. “Alexis, you’ve been asking me for Lenormand readings since high school. You planned your whole class schedule around my readings, all of your electives, whether to apply to police academy or straight to the Bureau? So either you were full of shit then, or you’re full of shit now, but just–” They heave a steadying breath. “Just stop lying to me. Something is seriously wrong, and getting worse. Talk to me? I'm here with you.”

Tears start to well in Alexis’ eyes, the tenuous prickling of a flood ready to overwhelm her. She blinks them away. “I can’t.”

“You have to. You can’t ignore it, whatever this is. Not any more.” Jaime is pleading, and Alexis can feel the spider web of cracks that shudder through her resolve. Better at this stage to give what small truths she can, or risk exposing it all if Jaime continued to needle and dig.

“At your Aunt Maebeline’s, there was a book.” Her hands clench and smooth against her jeans in alternating patterns. Anxiety sloshes like a toxic swill in her guts and she worries for a moment that she might be sick. “I was stressed. About finals, about my future. I took it.”

Jaime’s expression jumps from concerned to alarmed in quick succession. “That was you? Alexis, please, tell me you didn’t use it.”

“I didn’t think it would work! I’m not like you, I’m not like your family.” Her voice is whiny, petulant in ways she would normally control. “I just wanted to read it and see if it had anything easy for seeing the future, or something to get me through to graduation.”

“No, you aren’t like me, or my family, which is why you should never have taken a family heirloom and tried to use it! Christ, Alexis, I can’t believe you had it all this time, that’s selfish, even for you. Mae has been freaking out about that missing book.”

“I’m sorry, I know. I should have asked, but there was no way she’d say yes, and I’ve been freaking out too!”

“What spell did you use? Nothing involving blood, you wouldn't.”

“Just my own? I didn’t sacrifice any animals or anything. Well. I don’t think the mouse counts? And, it was a total accident, but there was a barn owl, and I–”

She winced as the color seemed to drain from Jaime’s face, leaving them pallid and waxen.

“Nocuta Sapientia. Those bones you had. Oh, Alexis…what did you do?” Jaime backed slowly to the bed and sat heavily on the mattress, knocking the Lenormand deck to the floor in a scatter. “Did you close the ritual with an offering? Did you feed the owl a mouse directly, or just wait for a normal pellet?”

“Does it make a difference?”

Jaime groans and leans hard into their hands, scrubbing frustratedly at their face. “It makes all the difference, Alexis! One is nature, owl-eats-mouse, and the other is a fucking animal sacrifice in an ancient magic ritual. How could you be so reckless?”

“I needed it! I needed answers, everything was on the line. Jaime, you don’t understand, I’ve worked too hard to lose it all now. Not now, and for one stupid mistake. I had to know what would happen, I had to. I didn’t have a choice.” She is pleading, frantic now in the face of judgment as all of her darkest truths start to spill from her lips. Jaime stares at her like she is a stranger.

“This wasn’t for finals. This wasn’t about graduating, or the academy.”

Alexis shakes her head and starts to cry, the barriers finally crumbling as she sobs. “It was an accident. Jaime, I swear. I drank too much at the concert, I shouldn’t have been driving, I know that. I just wanted to meet you at your party, to celebrate with you.”

“Stop,” Jaime whispers in dread. Alexis can see it on their face as the pieces of her half-truths click together. “Please. Don’t say it.”

“I didn’t know it was him. I would have stopped, if I had known it was him, I swear I would have stopped.”

“No. You–” They start to shake, curling their hands between their knees and rocking slowly. “You were at the after party, you said you were there.”

“I never went in. I barely remember leaving the concert, I don’t think I even realized I hit anything until I got to the party and stopped driving. And, I mean, it could have been a deer, right? Or an old tire in the road, or–”

“Stop!” Jaime begs, crushing their hands to their ears.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Alexis drops to her knees and crawls to Jaime’s feet, supplicant and craven. “I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do. I left, and I think I was going back to check, but then there were ambulances passing me, and I couldn’t think straight. I just drove home instead.”

“You didn’t come home until three in the morning.” Their voice is broken, a grating sound that is shattered and sharp in turns.

“I ended up at the park on Walcott.” She hesitates, already knowing how bad her response will sound. “I fell asleep.”

Jaime’s eyes are vacant in a way that Alexis has never seen. “You kissed me awake that night. You hit my childhood best friend with your car, and then crawled into our bed, and kissed me.”

“Because I love you.” She swipes the tears from her face and surges forward, leaning desperately into Jaime’s space. “I was trying to protect you, protect us both. That’s why I did the stupid spell, I had to fix it. I’m graduating summa cum laude, Jaime. A criminal justice degree, do you know how stupid it all looks? And you would never sign a record deal if this all came out; you think people won’t suspect you?”

She is grasping at straws, reaching for any strand of logic that might transform the distance of her lover’s gaze back to a sympathetic warmth. “Trust me, I know the case studies, I’ve seen the court records. They would think you put me up to it, planned it even. I couldn’t tell you, baby, I couldn’t risk our whole lives for one stupid drunken mistake.”

She rubs her palms placatingly up Jaime’s tense thighs. “We can’t tell anyone. I think the spell worked. I used every positive intention that I could find, and I added my blood just like the book showed. I read the bones, and I know I’m no expert, but it all looked fine? Nobody has called the tip-line, the police haven't questioned me, I bleached the car...I think we’re really going to be okay. We can’t undo what happened, but we can move forward, together. Okay?”

Jaime blinks at the wall above Alexis' head, struggling through unnamed emotion with a lost expression. They haven't moved into her reaching embrace, but they haven’t pushed her away; Alexis takes it as hope and smiles, shaky and tenuous. “Okay, baby?”

“Where is the book now?”

“In my backpack, with your candles, and one of your ritual bowls. It’s all there.” She sighs, wiping at her waning tears once more. “I’ll have to go back and get rid of the owl, but I’ll clean the cage, you won’t have to do anything.”

Jaime stirs for the first time in long minutes as they turn their shell-shocked gaze on her again. “You killed it? The owl?”

“Not on purpose. I mean–” She fidgets, nervous again in the light of one more death on her hands. “I didn’t mean to leave it there so long, but I got caught up trying to deal with everything else, with finals, and of all the memorials at school for Malcolm–”

Jaime flinches at the name. “Alexis. You didn’t just do a reading. You linked yourself, in sacrifice and blood, you linked your actual future to that bird. Are you telling me that you then left it to starve to death in a cage? You didn’t close the ritual?”

Alexis starts to understand, in a chilling wave of fear. “Is that why I’ve been so hungry all week?”

They stare at each other for long, quiet moments. Jaime’s mouth tightens in something like resolve, and Alexis breathes in new hope at the determined and familiar light in their eyes.

“Bring me the book.”

____________________________________________________

____________________________________________________

She can’t believe she is back here again, facing down the derelict barn in a swath of waning moonlight. She shifts her feet and nervously squeezes the pouch of herbs that Jaime has given her. She has no desire to face the remnants of her accidental victim, but she is willing to do whatever it takes to put this all behind her and finally move forward.

She collects the tiny wire cage from the back seat and ignores the squeaks from within. She was overwhelmed with relief when Jaime laid out their plan, and pulled together the supplies she would need. There was no talk of forgiveness, or a path forward from all of the hurt between them now, but Alexis knows that even sentimental Jaime would never risk what they had for the memory of an ex-lover. Using her phone as a flashlight she makes her way down the trail to the sagging barn door, one last time.

If Alexis could be assured that Jaime would never breathe a word of what they knew, she would consider just cutting losses and embracing a fresh start on her own; as it was, she was just grateful that Jaime found a way out of this nightmare. They would figure the rest out together.

Finally reaching the entrance to the building, she looks up and is surprised to see three owls huddled along the ridge of the roof. She shivers, and pulls the heavy door open to shine her light inside the building. The cage sits exactly where she left it, and the owl inside blinks back at her with green eyes still glowing.

“You’re alive,” she whispers, amazed. “Well, are you ever going to be happy? It’s dinner time, and then we’re both free.”

Setting the smaller cage down carefully, she tips the bag of powder over thin gaps in the wire, rustling it gently to shake the contents into the enclosure. She pulls a slip of paper from her phone case and carefully intones Jaime’s block-print words. A faint yellow glow emanates from inside the cage, and she grins.

Alexis turns at the rustling of wings, and her heart shutters in her chest. The open line of the barn door is topped now with the dark figures of owls. She blinks as dust filters silently across her shoulders and turns her face toward the ceiling, dropping her phone to stifle a scream with both hands.

The rafters are filled with barn owls; silent, reproachful, and still. Dozens of round feathered heads are turned down at her, their inky black eyes gleaming in the pale, flat canvases of their faces.

“No, look, I’m here to fix it. Oh my god, please. Just…” She slowly crouches, her hands shaking as she opens the tiny cage and reaches inside, carefully lifting the mouse out by its tail. Its eyes glow a soft, pale yellow as it twists in the dusty air above her flashlight. Hunching her shoulders in fear, she quickly opens the larger cage door and holds out her offering. The neon green of the entrapped owl’s eyes is hypnotizing as it washes over her face.

Tu-Tu-Whoo-Tu-Whoo!

Alexis shrieks and drops the mouse into the cage, jumping back from the suddenly animated bird.

"No!" She watches in desperation as the mouse scurries through the bars and makes its escape, disappearing into moldy bales of hay. The owl continues to watch her, and slowly, ever so slowly, the green starts to fade from its luminescent eyes.

“Oh, thank god,” She sighs, as the owl breaks eye contact and starts to groom itself, resembling a normal bird once again. “And thank Jaime, I guess.”

She startles and ducks as the air is suddenly filled with the susurrus of wings, and small dust devils spin around her on the floor. The owls are leaving, their trance seemingly broken with the closing of the ritual.

Alexis picks up the empty cages, and her dirt streaked phone, and hopes to never see an owl again.

She jumps and titters a laugh as a mouse runs across her sneaker and back into the darkness.

“See you never, dude. You really lucked out tonight.”

She picks straw from the phone case as she walks back down the path toward her car. A rapid prickling scurries across her pant leg and she jumps, shaking her foot and stifling a cry. “The fuck? Get off me!” The rodent runs across her back and into her hair, squeaking as she flails, tossing it to the grass along the path. It runs a few steps and stops, watching her.

“Shoo, get out of here!”

The mouse continues to stare, unmoving yellow eyes that gleam above a twitching nose. Alexis jogs down the path, the dropped cages abandoned behind her. She looks at the field on her left, at the tall grass that sways softly in ripples of motion.

The night air is still, without the slightest hint of a breeze.

She runs.

The fields around her turn hazy with the soft, luminous approach of a thousand yellow eyes.

Her breath catches in a scream of terror as the swell of hundreds of tiny squeaking voices rushes to meet her from all sides.

She never reaches the car.

____________________________________________________

____________________________________________________

Jaime sits alone at the kitchen table, flipping through a scrapbook of memories until they find the one they’re searching for. Malcolm smiles hugely in the photo, throwing a peace sign with one hand while the other rests across Jaime’s shoulder. They are in matching tuxedos, dressed up and ready for senior prom.

“I’m so sorry, Mal.” Jaime whispers, their voice soft and sad. “Rest easy.”

A small field mouse with softly glowing eyes sits placidly on the table, watching them closely. Jamie dips a saltine in a jar of peanut butter, offering it with steady hands to the miniscule creature. It sniffs the offering once, and twitches. Slowly, the yellow starts to fade from its eyes, and it runs tiny hands rapidly across its face and whiskers, cleaning itself.

In a wide field, miles away from the city, hundreds of mice do the same, cleaning their teeth and claws of viscera. A lone owl trills softly as the misty night shifts away from sickly yellow, back to a natural darkness that shelters the gleam of fresh, white bones from sight.