Page 56 of The Kiss Of Death
I quickly associated the colors of each of the four parts in chronological order with the French notes they referred to:Mi?, Mi, La?, Si?.
“I didn’t know that,” he whispered to himself, as if not knowing something was his biggest disappointment.
“It means that the first note of part one isMi?, so the first note of the score has to beMi?, so the first note is already correct. This means the first note of part two is aMi, and so on… Now that I know the first notes of each of the four parts, I can readjust the whole score in the right order and find where the rest of the measures belong.” I was smiling and doing a little dance on my seat. “Isn’t that great?”
Levi didn’t share the same elation, his brows creasing in a deep frown. “They say quantum computing is hard to understand. Mother dearest surpassed herself.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mother had a thing for puzzles and treasure hunting, things like that. She may believe I’m still eight and willing to play those silly games. ”
“I think it sounds like fun.” I smiled.
Levi gave me a cryptic, cold smile. “You’d think so. Each of her puzzles was increasingly complicated. It’s the only thing she liked doing, apart from music.”
“She was trying to connect with you because she knew you were smart. I mean, I would have loved to play those games with friends.”Or Mom.“In each of our music classes, we were interpreting a song based on a drawing, a color, or an art piece of my choice. She was always so creative.”
I remembered how she’d cry listening to beautiful music or observing some pieces of art.
“She was a hermit,” Levi gritted between clenched teeth. “To the point that some children from my school had come to our house without invitation because they wanted to verify if it was haunted like the rumors said. I played along. They were so gullible that I almost made my life sound cool until Mother dearest completely lost it.”
A memory flashed into my brain.How did I not remember that sooner?I was eleven years old, and it was the only timeI saw Levi outside of the manor. The only time I’ve been confronted with a glimpse of how they were treated in our town.
“Look who just arrived,” the fake blond lady whispered to her friend, my attention snagging on Lucie strolling through the supermarket with a frenzied energy. “Dalia is still taking class with her, right?”
She and her friend seemed about the age Mom should have been by now. Going on secret adventures with Grandma to the local supermarket wasn’t something we did often. I wanted to enjoy my time out of the house as much as possible, but they had trapped Grandma at the checkout.
“Lucie is the best. She’s teaching me how colors sound, and how to speak with my violin,” I said with my brightest smile, even though all I really wanted was to play a game of guessing where the fruit came from and grab some licorice.
My heart fluttered like a trapped bird in my chest the moment I noticed Lucie’s son in the parking lot, staring at the postcards by the kiosk. He clutched a sheet of stickers in his hand, which he had taken from the stand. The seller, who had been reading his journal, suddenly stopped and looked at Levi with a suspicious glare as if he were trying to catch him doing something wrong. I never saw him outside of the manor. The excitement made my ballerina shoes tap together softly.
“How strange,” the lady with the gray hair muttered, pushing her cart up behind us at the checkout. “My poor son went to that manor once and was really scared.”
“Your son is afraid of everything, Martha. Remember when he cried because of bees?” Grandma said as she emptied our basket and placed it on the checkout counter. I grinned and followed suit, emptying my pink bag just like her.
“That lady threw a fit because there was too much noise, but kids are supposed to be noisy,” the gray-haired lady’s voice grated on my ears like a screeching moray eel, not gentle likeMom’s or Lucie’s. “They make messes all the time; that’s just what they do. She locked herself in, apparently for hours, and—”
I twisted my neck to see Levi better. The grumpy seller at the kiosk was waving his hands angrily like he was a bird of bad omen he wanted to get rid of. Meanwhile, Levi, hands buried in his pockets, stood tense and defensive, as if he were used to being treated that way.
“Remember that field trip? She only signed up because her son was there. Poor thing had no friends. I’ve never seen them even hold hands. My son practically clings to me, begging for kisses before school. Anyway, she locked herself, again, this time in the bus bathroom—”
The women’s voices droned on, their faces twisting into mean lines, while Grandma fiddled with her watch. I glanced back at Levi. He kicked a tiny rock and turned in a circle in the parking lot, away from the rude man. I wanted to go meet him. Butterflies fluttered inside me, and I felt my cheeks heat.
“Even the school headmaster avoids her. She’s always complaining about everything.”
“I saw her at the pharmacy. She had prescriptions for pills. Patrice, on the contrary, is a sweetheart. She is very lucky that he educates her son while—”
“Hello, ladies.” Lucie arrived by our side, her fingers fluttering in a peculiar rhythm. Her smile was bright, but it lingered a tad too long, almost as if it were glued to her face.
“Lucie!” I hurried over to her with arms outstretched, ready to engulf her in a tight hug.
But as I wrapped my arms around her, she stiffened like a statue. I quickly released her. I always forgot that hugs made her feel weird, but she always smiled back at me.
“Lucie.” The fake blond lady forced a thin smile, her eyes not quite meeting Lucie’s. “How nice to see you. How have you been?”
“Oh, really?” Lucie frowned. “I couldn’t find the brand of bread I usually buy because they were out of it, so I have to try this new brand and I’m not sure.” Her smile appeared strained, a hint of tension flickering in her eyes as her fingers tapped nervously on her cart. “I’ve read that the human body needs an average of 0.8 grams of protein per kilogram, so I had to buy a weighing machine to know exactly how much we need. What did you end up getting?” Leaning in closer, she scrutinized the items in the other person’s cart. “Oh no. Those biscuits are filled with chemical additives. And this ham has E249, which is carcinogenic and—”
“I’m not buying this,” Grandma muttered, tossing the ham aside. I silently cheered inside; I never liked eating dead animals, unlike Dad.
