Ex Nihilo

Maria Danes is pale when Farai sees her at the end of her school day, hands shaking and bags under her eyes nearly black. Her skin, normally tan and healthy, now looks pale and sickly, nearly ashen. Farai feels bad when she sees her – not for her, for Maria, but she feels as though she’s physically getting worse just by looking at her.

“Oh God—“ She says, then manages to catch the other woman in the nick of time when she stumbles towards Farai. “Are you okay? Do you need me to call the nurse?” She forgets her own discomfort in a second, the other woman’s well-being coming before her own.

“No, Farai—“ She says, then clutches on her, grip weak and hands pale. “I can’t—I don’t want to see a doctor. I just need somebody to talk to.”

And really, Maria and Farai were friends. Both of them moved here several years ago, both barely got their job teaching. Maria had one child and a loving husband; Farai had three and lived with them and with Oakley, occasionally so.

“I’m here for you.” She says in the end. “We should—come with me. Is Oscar alright? Is Harry with him?” Harry, the husband, and Oscar – the little sunshine. The son.

Maria nods, but her grip on Farai seems to get a little bit tighter. Farai ignores her, then collects her things as quickly as possible. Her daughters are in school right now and normally she waits for all of them, but she’s got at least hour before the first one is off classes. It’s better that Maria is in her home now; then they can get back here together.

Farai lives nearby and the walk is short, although Maria drags behind slightly, mumbling something into her own chin. Farai doesn’t pressure her about sharing anything and ushers her into the apartment instead. She finds it unlocked and dark, and then remembers that Oakley was here, too. She forgot about her.

When Farai goes to draw the curtains, Maria stops her – action swift and unexpected from her, something uncharacteristic. Farai doesn’t question, and instead leaves then on, then goes to the switch the light.

“I don’t know who else to talk to.” Maria says after a small while. When Farai looks at her closely, she looks almost back to her old self. She’s just—she’s gotten really pale. She looks very sickly. “So I figured—so far you’re really been my best friend here, you know. You watch Oscar when me and Harry want some time alone, or when my mother was sick some months ago, you remember? Your daughters are so good to Oscar, too. Even Oz, your shadow, you know? Oscar loves her.”

The nickname for Oakley that kids have taken to – Oz. They figured it out on their own, after realising that her initials can be read as word. Because she can be the wizard, Clara said. All of Farai’s daughters seem to love Oakley, but Clara was especially attached to her, most likely because she was too young to remember Oakley not being there.

“Then I figured—your shadow, of course. You know her. Who else could I talk to, if not you?” Maria keeps on.

And Farai, she gets a little bit worried. What does Oakley have to do with Maria’s current state? Farai has seen the other teacher yesterday; she’s been fine. Oakley hasn’t left her apartment since last night, either. She couldn’t have done any damage, not direct one. Farai would’ve noticed.

“What’s it about?” She has to ask. She has to know. “Is Oscar alright?” Nothing else comes to mind.

“I suppose. He’s—he’ll be fine for most of the time, now.” And that—that doesn’t tell Farai anything. It just has her more confused. “You know how I met Harry? How I found him charming and how we laugh, all the time, that he hasn’t gotten any older in the past six years?” Now Maria starts to sound angry, too. Or, perhaps not angry – but bitter, disappointed.

Farai knows that she needs her space and her rant, and she lets her talk because, right now, this is the easiest way to get this out of her system.

“Well he won’t age at all. Ever. Because he’s just like your fucking shadow.” She sounds ready to kill, or to, perhaps, keel over and cry.

Farai should be comforting her, but she’s too stuck on the fact that she sees no common ground between Oakley Zielinski and Harry Danes.

“You need to take a deep breath and calm down.” Farai tries to reason with her, but Maria hardly pays any attention to her. She’s looking past Farai’s shoulder and Farai knows that Oakley is there before she sees her. The pale woman is rarely ever silent, but Farai knows her more for her twitchy habits, almost-flowery smell of cigarettes and tendency to slink in corners when she can.

“Please, you have to believe me. She’s not what she says she is.” Maria accuses of—of something. Her anger is directed at Farai now, unjustified as the younger teacher saw it, but she’s not sure what she did to bring this wrath to herself. “You would not be okay with it, if you knew— She’s a fucking vampire!”

Okay.

Farai needs to take a step back. Metaphorically and physically, too, because this is just a little too much for her. Maria is a person she has trusted, somebody that she’s thought to be honest and reliable. If she—if she’s saying things like this, as absurd as this, then something is wrong. Something is wrong and Farai’s panic will not help her; Farai needs to remain calm and be of any assistance, be there with her.

“Do you deny it, fiend?” Maria nearly shrieks at the tall, lithe woman leaning on Farai’s chair. For her part, Farai cannot move from her spot, unsure of her next move.

“I’m not your fucking fiend, Maria.” Oakley snarls and Farai can see her expression without turning around – discomfort, anger, her entire face transformed violently, both the flawless skin and the misshaped scars. “But I won’t deny shit. It’s not like you can do shit about my bloodsucking problem.”

“You have both lost me.” There’s nothing else to do, but admit.

Farai looks at Oakley, at one stable point in past several years of her life. She looks at the woman, so usual and welcome, somebody she’s not only gotten used to but grown fond of, as well. She’s grown fond of the heavy tattoos and of the loose ripped shirt and leather jeans and the gruesome scars. Oakley, for her part, looks ever-confident, relaxed in her own skin and Farai, she thinks – this is fine, this is usual. Oakley is fine.

But if that’s the case, what the hell does vampire stand for?