“Looks grisly,” her father said, “Are you
sure you should be looking at this?”
“Would you rather have me running into the
woods tonight?” A threat that didn’t even make sense to Asta after she’d said
it. She was surprised at how confrontational it was, but didn’t question it.
Her father reached over and closed the
browser window, likely having believed her last comment to be immature and now
trying to act mature, “Now, now, Astrid, I think we should talk.”
“Could we not?” Asta said. She wasn’t about
to be bossed around by this bossy parental figure.
“What’s gotten into you?” He asked.
She knew exactly what had gotten into her, it was the idea that
maybe she wasn’t insane, that maybe she should stop taking the medicine. She knew
Neil was playing a violent, competitive, videogame (she could hear him mutter
the word asshole under his breath).
She could hear Rob as he sat and watched television. She was sure that she
could walk up to either of them and tell them what they’d been doing and they’d
be surprised at her accuracy. She’d tried to prove it to her father before.
But, ah, now she had a phone. And Neil’s phone number.
“Astrid?”
She pulled out her cell and dialed Neil’s
number, handing it to her father, “Tell him to quit calling people bad words.”
She expected her father to hand her back the
phone, or say no, but instead he held the phone to his ear. She knew that Neil
was listening to the phone ring; but he was simply too invested in his video
game. He was being a jerk, but Asta supposed it couldn’t be helped.
“I mean he’s not going to pick up because
he’s really into his game right now, but I just heard him call someone an
asshole,” Asta said, “And you could have said to him, quit calling people
assholes, and he would have said, how did
you know I was calling people assholes?”
“Astrid this is worrying,” he finally said,
after creasing his brow and rubbing his chin, “Do you need to visit Dr. Cook?”
“No, dad, I’m good,” Asta said, “I know I’m
not crazy. I know that I’m actually hearing other people. And I know how crazy
that sounds but it’s true!” She felt like the proponent of a new religion that
promised eternal life in return for expired coupons. In other words, she felt
like she wasn’t very likely to be believed.
“What happened last night?” Her father
asked, “Did someone tell you that you have some special power or something? A
gift of God?”
“Do you want me to tell you the truth?” She
asked.
“Yes,” her father said, “That is exactly
what I want.”
“I talked to a girl named Friday, and she
told me that I’m not crazy, that—”
Asta’s father didn’t even wait for her to
finish. “A girl named Friday? On a Friday night?”
“Yeah, whatever, I know that sounds like a
crazy coincidence, but that’s what it was,” she said, “She told me that… She
told me that three things would happen.”
“What were they?” He asked.
“Someone would die, a title would be
inherited, and the world would end,” she said, “But whatever, she said someone
would die, that’s the first step. A man. She said a man would die.”
“Astrid,” he said, “Do you expect me to
believe that those three things mean anything? Men and women die every day. And
titles are passed down just as frequently. Now, the world ending, that is the
one that worries me. Do you think the end of the world is coming?”
“I don’t know why I try to tell you anything,”
she said, “Fine, let’s go see Dr. Cook. I’ll tell him everything, and he’ll
give me more medication and say that I’m developing a tolerance or something.
And meanwhile the shakes will get worse and you and mom won’t do anything about
it.” She tried to think of something meaningful to say but said this instead, “I
hate you. I hate you and her so much.”
Her father didn’t say anything when he left.
He closed her door, and she heard the bookcase slide into its most favorite
spot. And then Asta looked on her computer, and checked the websites she liked
to check. She knew she wouldn’t cry, at least. She knew there was nothing that
crying would solve this time. Like it’d solved anything before!
She thought about what Friday had said, and
began to wonder if it even mattered whether or not she was crazy. Either the
world would end, or she would be crazy.
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