Page 13 of Dark Ugly Places

“Gracias, mijo! Tell your mama I say hi. You look good in the uniform!”

He does a little twirl and then takes out a hundred-dollar bill. “You’ll never guess who I helped today.”

My ears perk up. I continue lighting candles, pretending not to listen.

Nubia shushes him. “I told you, be careful talking freely about the guests.” Nubia lowers her voice. “Who was it?”

I glance up as the bellboy leans in. “Jason Redfern.”

My heart starts beating faster. A couple of maids approach. I watch them all talk and laugh as the sound gets wrung out of the room.

Jason Redfern.

Why do I keep encountering Jason Redfern?

A thought comes running into my head, swift and cutting, a knife through my brain.

You know why.

The bellboy hands Nubia the hundred-dollar bill. “This is for you. I’ll get more,” he says proudly. “Let’s just say 1114 is rolling in it!”

They laugh, and I turn. “1114?” I blurt.

The bellboy nods at me, and Nubia gives me an inquisitive look. “Yeah. Redfern has the corner suite.”

“I hear he doesn’t let the valets park his car. He wants it kept out front where he can see it,” someone chimes in.

“Rich snob,” one of the maids adds bitterly. “He’ll let us clean his toilet, though, and wash his sheets. Shit.”

I finish lighting the last few candles. Meanwhile, the number keeps going round and round in my head.

1114.

1114.

Someone in the back of the room shuts off the lights, and the whole lunchroom goes dark. Everyone begins to sing.

“… Que los sigas cumpliendo hasta el año tres mil!”

Nubia bends down into the light of her candlelit cake and closes her eyes. She takes in a breath and blows out the candles, making the room pitch dark. Everyone cheers, but the lights don’t come on.

The voices rise louder. Laughter, cheers, a few whoops and shouts, and someone searches for the light switch. Instinctively, I cover my ears and try to drown it out. The voices in my head merge together, becoming a high-pitched scream.

In the darkness, I hold my breath and count to ten. My left side aches and burns from my hip to my toes, and I shake my head, trying to stop the screaming. My ears carry a heartbeat, relentless and intense, as the darkness takes on a form. I see the blood. His blood, flowing toward me, black on the pavement, Ben’s body so twisted up that I won’t be able to look away.

The voice inside my head is quick and certain. Go.

My hands grasp for the table. I fumble, trying to steady myself. My heartbeat rises in my chest. A wave of nausea comes over me, and my legs feel weak. I need to sit down.

“Gracias a todos por las celebraciones y los muchos afectos!” Nubia grabs an old-looking kitchen knife and starts cutting her birthday cake into small pieces. She picks at a piece of red candle wax dripping down the side of the white frosting.

Real blood isn’t that red. Real blood, when it really counts, is black. Deep, dark, and saturated with so much color. A void of pure darkness squelching toward you.

1114. Hurry. Go and see.

It happens before I really think about it. One moment, I’m standing next to Nubia, the next, I’m on the floor, huddled into a ball, my body convulsing.

I’m falling into a deep cavern of myself. This isn’t where I want to be. No, it isn’t. I begin fighting it, even as I quietly slip away.