Turtle

by Ivy Smyth

I never could see straight in the real world. People always said I was supposed to be intelligent because of all the books I’d read and what they got out of me in school. And I guess I seemed real calm and collected back in the days when Fae was around, but the truth is I was just off in my own head and she was always the sharp one.

That’s how I like to think of her—sharp and in control, powerful enough for the two of us. I remember the way cruelty could make her eyes brighten or her mouth tremble, depending on the color of the situation. I remember shrieks and screams and unexplainable fits of laughter. I remember a lot of things I can’t tell you about at all but what I’m remembering most right now is this one day, maybe more than a year ago.

I was at school but I hadn’t been to class all day. I was walking around the grounds instead. I got away with stuff like that because adults always had faith in me as a good kid. I dressed neat and clean and my hair never got messy. I also had a mature face and form for my age, the sort that made everybody call me, “young man.” So I was free to wander about as if I had some sort of business to attend to and not one teacher did more than smile at me when I passed. Most adults are just plain dumb.

Of course, I had nothing important to do. I simply couldn’t stay indoors because of the way the air felt. I’m not as in touch with natural surroundings as a lot of people, but that day there was this warm wind to contrast with the overcast sky and I could feel electricity running through me. The static made the hairs on my arms stand up and occasionally I would feel a light snap on my skin when I brushed against something. I can’t begin to describe how exhilarated it made me—How could anyone sit still inside on such a day?

I knew Fae would have the same idea, and I guess I was looking for her without really thinking about it. Unlike me, she didn’t have the privilege of being trusted. I can’t think of one adult who didn’t have some grudge against her that they probably hold to this day. Most of the teachers at our school were just looking for an excuse to lock her up, only she wasn’t easy to catch. As eager as she was to display her disregard for anything that claimed to be bigger than her, she would just as soon vanish under the nose of authority, maddeningly untouchable. At least, that’s what I thought then.

“Turtle!” She had seen me first. I looked for her but didn’t see her until she let me. She hung down from a tree branch, little twigs and bits of dead leaves sticking out of her hair, which brushed my face when she leaned her head down over me. “You’ll never guess what I’ve found!” she whispered.

I knew I wouldn’t. “What?”

“A turtle!” Her voice grew thin like it couldn’t hold the excitement she forced into it. Fae Morgan wasn’t sparing with her emotions.

“Where?” I asked, looking her over to try and figure out where she might be keeping it. She had no pockets and no sweater. Just her dress which was artfully shredded and dirty.

“McCoy’s got it.” She was now climbing down from her dying tree, too-big leather work boots scraping against the bark.

I responded with a look to show I wasn’t quite following.

“Stupid. He brought it to show Mr. Tullassy. I bet it hates him. I saw him being dumb with it through the window. In biology Lab E. And we’re gonna get it. We’re gonna rescue it. I decided and I’ve been planning, okay? I’m gonna get that turtle in your honor, and you have to let it go, that way Turtle will be rescuing the turtle, okay?”

She raised her eyebrows so that her shiny brown eyes were practically daring me to challenge her. Of course I didn’t, and so all seriousness left her and she was a little girl again. This was the strange thing about Fae. She was so small and pretty with all her straw hair, stiff with knots and her full lips, red as anything. She didn’t even look her fourteen years, with that tiny shapeless body and hands half the size of my own. But I still did what she said. She was a sharp kid, really, and because I rarely told her what to do, she listened to me good. I think I might have been the only one she listened to.

“Okay. We’re going to steal his turtle. Fine. What’s your plan, then? And where, pray tell, did you get the motivation?” I was pretending not to be excited too.

“Rescue. We’re rescuing the turtle.”

“Alright, rescue.”

“And I’m doing it for you. A present for you to let the turtle go, okay? We’ve just gotta get it. Through the vents, I figure.”

By this time the two of us had started walking towards the lab buildings, keeping out of the open as best we could. This wasn’t easy due to the severe lack of foliage and general scraggly wasteland appearance of our school’s landscape. We had a standard procedure that if any grown-up saw us, I (an older and more “responsible” student) would just pretend to be taking Fae to the office. It always worked.

“Once I get in, I’ll get the turtle and hand it out to you through that window in room 8. I know there ain’t nobody in there ‘cause I looked. Then you run and let it go ‘cause I wanna stay and watch what happens when McCoy sees it’s gone.” We had reached Lab E. She was kicking off her boots and shoving them into the graying bushes. Her bare toes gripped the dusty ground, which was littered with bits of plastic, broken glass and other questionable objects. I was picking up on what sort of day this was going to be.

I grabbed hold of her shoulders tight and looked hard at her face. “You’re looking for a fight, kid,” I told her. She glared back at me until we both couldn’t hold it any more. We grinned at each other.

“I knew you felt it too,” she said in a whisper fit for disclosing the secrets of life. “There is something special about today. And this energy, I don’t even think it’s mine. I’m not sure whose it is.” Her smile widened, and indeed there were secrets there. And little, tiny teeth.

Without another word, I turned her round and lifted her up so she could grab hold of the broken pipe that hung down the side of the building. She climbed it easily until she got to the second story window. I watched her swing her leg up onto the sill and pull herself through. I never told her to watch out for the glass or to be careful but I’d like to believe I was thinking those things. Probably not, though. Fae had plenty of other people telling her what to do.

I could imagine what was going on inside. Fae would get into an empty classroom—all the second-floor classrooms were empty—and pry off the covering for the air vent. The vents used to heat the buildings but had long stopped working. Fae had discovered she could use them as her own personal highway on her fifth day of school. No one else was small enough to think of it. No one else was small enough to walk on the second floor without jeopardizing the lives of those on the first floor either.

There were vents in almost every classroom in every building of the school. Of the twenty or so rooms that were actually used because they had working lights and were safe enough, I had class in five. Out of those five, I had managed to get a seat next to a vent in four. Life was less lonely that way.

The room Fae was trying to get into was actually on the first floor, directly below where she had entered the vents. She always told me the drops between floors weren’t far, but I honestly have no idea how she made them without making any noise. I thought she’d probably made this one by now, so I headed around the corner of the lab to see if I could watch the show. There was only one window into the lab, which was the only room used in the building apart from the occasional film-viewing held in room 8. The problem with this window was that it was located on the side of Lab E which faced the open courtyard area and it was hard not to look suspicious while standing there peeking in. I did it anyway.

There were maybe twelve or thirteen kids in there. The class was my year and I spotted Chester McCoy sitting up at the front, which was my left, maybe even listening to Tullassy. I could see why Fae picked him. He was pretty big and his curls and sweater-vest alone was the sort of thing that got on her nerves. But it was more than that. I knew this guy and I was sure Fae had some reason for singling him out, his turtle simply providing the means for revenge she had been waiting for.

Where was it? Nowhere near McCoy… not on Tullassy’s desk… then I realized this was going to be much easier than I expected. The little plastic tank was sitting on a table at side of the room opposite me, about five feet away from the vent, which was already showing signs of movement. I watched the cover come off and disappear. Arms emerged, then a shower of light blond hair. Fae climbed out without a sound, lowered herself too the floor and out of sight and by the time I’d thought to look for the turtle again, the cover to the vent was lying in its place. Once I’d seen Fae climb back into the vent with the tank and heard the deliberate scuffle she made in the process, I got ready to run for room 8. This wasn’t as subtle as what I’d been picturing and Fae obviously wasn’t feeling patient. Still, I wasn’t quick enough.

There was a loud thumping noise as McCoy’s fists came down on his desk and Tullassy stopped his drone. Chester stomped over to the table where the vent cover lay and threw it to the floor, his swearing mixed with sound of metal crashing against tile. Mr. Tullassy looked like he was about to say something, thought better of it, and made no attempt to stop McCoy or even move when he left the class, slamming the door behind him.

I took that as my cue to sprint, and Fae was already waiting at the window when I got to room 8. It had a permanent metal screen like a mini chain link fence bolted across it that someone had managed to smash a corner out of at some point. Through this corner, she held out a green turtle, about the size of her palm that squirmed helplessly in her fingers. I took it from her and it immediately retreated into its shell, completely still.

“Quick, take it away!” she said with breathless delight.

“He’s coming after you, Fae.”

“I know. Go on, Turtle. At least get away from the window.”

I took a few steps to the side and out of plain sight, absent-mindedly giving that turtle the squeezing of its life. Just as I moved, a deafening crash resonated within the room.

“Morgan, you brat!” McCoy’s voice roared. He went on to call her several other things and it took all my determination not to peek at what was happening. I didn’t have to wait for long. Another crash, far more metallic than the first, sounded right next to me, jarring my very bones. I looked in time to see the back of Fae’s body slip down the jagged chain link window screen, pieces of her hair getting hung along the way.

I decided they were sufficiently engrossed with each other and assumed a position at the window where I could watch the show. The game was this: you can’t fight back until the other man draws your blood. Fae would encourage that to be as soon as possible because she didn’t like to be hit (who does?), but loved a good fight. I’d seen her play plenty of times. She was a beautiful sight, so light and jumpy and mean. That day seemed no different.

When McCoy lunged at her, Fae would dart out of the way at the last second, practically bouncing off the walls with her enthusiasm to dodge. Neither of them even glanced at me watching. They were too busy circling that classroom, McCoy becoming more frustrated by the minute. He knew he couldn’t count on her to get tired. But I knew she would get bored. Eventually she let him catch her by the hair, perhaps thinking his mood for the mild, carnage-free fight had diminished. Fae was thrown into the concrete floor amidst broken glass, bits of pencil, thumbtacks and ash. She did not bleed.

I still wasn’t worried. Maybe you think that makes me a bad friend, but that’s only because you don’t understand the way it used to be. Me not being worried about Fae made me her best friend. Her best friend watched her get grabbed by the upper arms and shaken.

“You’re crazy, little girl. Completely sick, you know that? Don’t think I don’t know you’re crazy. What did you do that turtle? It’s just a turtle, my kid sister’s turtle. It hasn’t done anything to you. Why do you have to be such a psycho?”

During this speech was the first time Fae caught my eye. She smiled at me which made McCoy, who had his back to the window, shake her again. She began laughing and he dropped her as if in disgust. She continued as if she couldn’t stop. Fae had a real belly laugh, the kind most people lose around the age of two. It shook her whole body and made her lips look even fuller than normal. She clutched her stomach for laughing, down on the floor.

“Stop it. Stop it, you little psycho doll. What the hell is this? What the hell is wrong with you?” When she didn’t stop he pulled her up by the front of her dress and slapped her face.

Fae furrowed her brows in annoyance. I understood why. Only two types of people slapped her: her friends and adults. Coming from someone like Chester McCoy it was just plain insulting. She looked hard at him through narrowed eyes. “Aint you got a knife or something?”

He looked at her and I know now that Fae and I read his expression completely differently. I think I got it right, though. It didn’t matter if he had a knife—McCoy would never take it out for the likes of her. Something about the way he looked at her made me understand this strange assumed inequality. And then I realized what it was—he was looking at her the way men look at women.

I didn’t like it. Suddenly all her wild, little girl indifference was disregarded. He was taking advantage of her refusal to fight back and using it to treat her like an unworthy opponent. Surely she’d realize that soon and demand otherwise?

But Fae just looked confused. “Come on!” she ordered impatiently. “Do something fun.”

He sighed. “Where’s the turtle?”

“It’s gone.”

“Where is it?”

Fae looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Dead. It’s gone”

“I don’t believe you. Tell me what you did with it, Morgan.” He leaned over where she lay on the ground in a threatening sort of way. I wished he would just hit her again, but instead he held her down against the ground and did nothing at all. He looked like a giant.

“Hey…” Fae got this look on her face like someone had just taken something from her, like if you took a lollipop out of a kid’s mouth. She just looked bewildered and frustrated and pouty. She squirmed a little but there wasn’t much she could do without breaking the rules and fighting before bloodshed. She didn’t seem at all panicked, not even when McCoy put his hand on her leg to stop her fidgeting.

That’s what set me off, I think. Maybe he put his hand just a little too high up, I don’t know. It was all wrong and I knew it and what I hate most about remembering it is that when I picture Fae now, wherever she is, I think of her that way—clueless to what is really happening to her, unknowingly powerless.

I had to get in there. I looked around for anything heavy enough to beat my way through that stupid window screen and found a pretty good sized rock and only when I bent down to lift it did I realize I was still holding the turtle that had started this whole mess. I dropped it for the rock, which was heavier than it looked and took all my strength to smash against the chain link. They both looked up the first time I did it. Fae had that same confused/annoyed look on her face, only directed at me this time; Chester was livid.

“Get up, kid!” I yelled at her. “Forget it, just fight him now!”

“I should have known you’d be in on this, Roy. But you can go now. I can handle it from here,” McCoy said softly. I saw him glance at her again. That same look. He was evil. I smashed harder at the screen and it seemed to give some. I think McCoy was actually alarmed then, but he kept his expression mean. To Fae he said, “Maybe we should finish this somewhere else where we won’t be interrupted. You are going to tell me where the turtle is. I promise.” He began to drag her gently across the floor toward the door.

“Don’t touch her! Fae, listen! Get up! Game’s over, you win!” I yelled at them.

There was this really eerie pause then as Fae looked back and forth between Chester and I, like she was weighing my word against his firm refusal to let her fight. She didn’t get the chance to make a decision because that was the moment when I broke my way through the window with a mighty blow from my giant rock, climbed through it and went running for him.

He let out a yell and jumped out of my way before I could crush him to bits. I turned to face him again and then Fae was between me and the door, I was between McCoy and Fae, and McCoy was between me and the window. There was another one of those eerie pauses and then McCoy turned to make a break through the broken screen. That’s when I rushed him. There was a sickening crunching noise as rock made contact with bone somewhere around the back of his neck, and the force of my body sent him through the window and onto the ground outside. He looked a bit twisted out there and didn’t move.

I felt a whisper at my side and turned to see Fae standing next to me. She wore no expression that I could see.

“Are you mad?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “Are you mad at me? If you’re mad at me for getting hurt or in trouble, that’s when you won’t be Turtle any more.”

I told her I wasn’t mad and we went outside to get a better look at McCoy. It was really disgusting. There wasn’t even blood or anything, but I just wasn’t all that used to hurting people, pretty mild and tame compared to most kids I know, and it was gross. He was laying on his back with his legs all tangled. There was something really off about his neck and his left shoulder. I couldn’t tell if the arm had been pushed out of the socket or maybe the neck had been bent too far forward and stuck or what, but all the skin around there seemed to be turning a faint bluish color.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Killing someone at school could really have ruined my reputation.

Fae bent down and put her face close to Chester’s. “Naw, he’s alright.”

“Really?” I’m telling you, the guy looked awful.

“Yeah, sure,” she said.

“Damn. I’ll be in so much trouble once this gets out. This is the end of your friend Turtle. It’s been fun, kid…”

“Naw, you won’t get in trouble. It’s just a fight. Aint nobody ever got into real trouble over a fight. Everybody fights.”

“Fae, I didn’t fight him, I crushed him with a rock.”

“He hit you first.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Nobody will ever believe that.”

“Hold still.”

I held still and managed not to flinch when her tiny fist crunched against the bone of my nose, breaking it cleanly. I breathed deeply and willed myself to keep calm while the blood started flowing. “Alright,” I grinned at her. “How do I look?”

“Great. You’ve got a rose blooming in the middle of your face.” And then she ran off, screaming bloody murder for teachers, doctors, anybody to come and help.

I thought of the turtle then and looked around for it, but it was long gone.

I never thought of Fae the same way again after watching her get looked at that way. There was always the gap of boy and girl between us, though I was so careful to hide it from her for fear of losing her and I’m pretty sure she didn’t understand it at all. She never asked me why I stopped that fight.

I did lose her not so much later, just not in the way I expected. Now that all the “Missing” posters have been weathered away, the only thing I can really take comfort in is that the last time I saw her she was still my best friend and is missing me too, wherever she is. But mostly I think about that look, and her not knowing about how much of a girl she is, and maybe I should have told her. Hopefully she doesn’t need to know, wherever she is.