Episode VIII - The First Letter ~ Anthony's Confession Final Part

"Ah-choo! Geez, If we don't find out what's bothering him before he writes the second letter, he might try to commit suicide with someone."

"Don't even joke about that…"

"I feel trapped just reading his letter, though. I wouldn't want to eat this even if I were starving. I bet it's like swallowing poison—it would make me want to die, too."

Alice shuddered.

"I wonder who S is. Do you think the girl he talks about is… Janella? And most of all, why can't we find Anthony Flavier?"

"Yeah, that's the biggest problem. We have to find Anthony fast, and if he intends to commit double suicide or to kill someone, we have to stop him."

"But Janella is still our only clue."

The next day was Saturday, so there was no school.

On Monday the following week, just like clockwork Janella came skipping into my class during the first-period break.

"Did you write my letter for today yet, Andy?"

She was even more grinny than usual. I cut her off with the seriousness of my tone. "Sorry, I couldn't write it. I won't be able to write anymore unless I know more about Anthony."

The grin disappeared from Janella's face. Now she looked more like an abandoned puppy.

"Could you tell me about him? Everything you know. Then I'll write you a letter."

Janella was silent, and she stared at her toes.

She fiddled with her interlaced fingers, then murmured, "Can you come to the library after school? I'll be in the storage room in the basement."

I descended a spiral staircase with clanging steps and met a gray door. When I knocked, a voice called out, "Come in!"

As I cautiously pulled the door out, I caught a sweet scent.

It wasn't sweet like whipped cream or chocolate; it was the smell of old books.

The room was dusty and cobwebs stretched across the ceiling. There were a few rows of bookshelves and several stacked mounds of books on the floor.

It was like a graveyard for books. There was a space in the midst of it all just big enough for an old-style desk with a built-in chair. A lamp stood on the desk, providing the only illumination in the room.

Janella was seated at the desk, apparently writing something. She shut her notebook with the duck picture and looked at me. She had a mug next to her, and it, too, was decorated with a drawing of a duck.

"There are cockroaches and mice in here," she said, a slight smile crossing her face.

I gawked at her and looked down at the floor.

"The librarians hate it here, too, so they hardly ever come down. But I like it. It's like my secret hideout."

"I… I see."

"Do you not like cockroaches, Andy?" "I don't think many people do."

"I guess you're right. There aren't a lot of cockroach fan clubs or Internet shrines."

"I think mice might be worse than cockroaches. When I was in elementary school, I stayed at my grandma's house in the country. When I woke up one morning, there was a dead mouse by my pillow and when I rolled over, I planted my face right on top of it. My grandma's cat had left it there. Urk, just thinking about it…"

Remembering the blood-spattered, still-warm body of the mouse, I shuddered.

"Oh, that's horrible. But it's fine, I hardly ever see any mice down here. If one comes out, I'll chase it away for you."

Janella thumped her chest. "Thanks. You're brave."

"Oh, would you like some tea, Andy?"

Janella took out an orange thermos, twisted the top off it, and poured out the amber liquid it contained.

"It's roasted green tea." "Such refined taste."

She giggled. "Sometimes I come here to have some tea without anybody knowing."

It must have been the thermos's insulation that had kept the tea exactly the right temperature to drink.

"That was great. Thanks a lot." I set the lid on the desk and took Anthony's letter out of my pocket. "First, I want to return this to you."

Janella accepted the letter from me without a word, slipped it into her duck notebook, then hugged them both to her chest.

"I hope you understand why I'm asking, but do you think maybe that letter was meant for someone else?"

Janella's fingers dug into her notebook momentarily.

"There's no name on the envelope, and the tone of the letter doesn't seem like something intended for you."

"… You're right," Janella said quietly. "Anthony didn't give me that letter. I found it by accident, stuck inside a book."

"In a book? Here?"

"Yes. It was inside a copy of Never Been Human by Benedict Crumbling. I wondered what it was, so I read it, but I was so surprised. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and when I couldn't stand it anymore, I went to see Anthony."

"At archery?"

After a moment of hesitation, Janella nodded firmly. "Yes." "But there's no one named Anthony Flavier on the team…"

"Yes, there is." Janella raised her eyes, and her voice was firm. "I swear, Anthony really does exist."

I didn't get it. Why would Janella continue to stand by Anthony Flavier's existence?

Who was the person Janella believed to be Anthony?

Or was it that Janella was able to see him when none of us could? That would be some kind of horror movie.

Janella set her notebook down on the desk and drooped dramatically. A heavy silence filled the underground room.

I felt like I could almost hear the squeaking of the mice. I tried changing the subject.

"Did you know that the letter opens with a line from the book?"

"… Yeah. After I read the letter, I borrowed the book and read it, too."

Janella smiled weakly.

"But I'm too dumb… even after I read the book, I didn't understand why this person was suffering so much. He was from a rich family and had servants, and every time his father went to America he brought back a present. His brothers and sisters adored him, his friends and teachers adored him, and he was smart and wrote things that everyone loved. Girls were all over him and he even had all those people commit double suicide with him, so why did he think he was an embarrassment as a human being? Why did he think his life had no value? That's… that's weird. It's deluded. There was no reason for him to ever suffer like that."

Janella's eyes looked terribly desolate. She hung her head as she spoke, but she went on, her shoulders trembling and her lips reluctant to form the words.

"That's all I could think, which is awful, and I'm just an ordinary, dumb kid, really, really ordinary, just average and stupid, and so, so awful, so I couldn't understand why the author or Anthony would want to die, no matter how hard I tried. I read this book five times. But I still couldn't sympathize with them at all. Finally, I just started to cry."

Janella's sadness crept into my heart.

She wanted to understand the boy she liked. But she couldn't.

I had also experienced that pain, of not understanding the heart of the person you cared for.

Janella gulped, as if to swallow her tears, and pulled over her duck cup. "A friend of mine named Shee gave me this cup for my birthday. She was my best friend, and really smart, unlike me. She could do anything. She told me this duck reminded her of me. Like how I'm clumsy and stupid and I get worked up over totally unimportant stuff, and how I'm so ordinary…

"I know I'll probably always be like this… I think that's probably why I was drawn to a person like Anthony, who seemed so dangerous.

"Honestly, I'm a dumb, regular kid. But if Anthony is in pain, I want to do something for him. I'll do anything I can."

She spoke with a heartfelt and powerful resolve.

Anthony did exist—inside Janella, at least—and she earnestly cared for him. So how could I argue with her?

"I didn't really understand this book, either," I murmured.

Janella looked up at me with fragile eyes; she seemed to be on the verge of breaking down in tears. Her lips trembled slightly.

I thought she was going to throw herself on me like she had that day when it rained.

But Janella gulped again and tugged the corners of her mouth into a smile.

"Heh! Ahaha… yeah! Commoners like us think he's a total jerk for being so ashamed of his privileges. Haha."

She was laughing as convincingly as she could, but it seemed like only empty cheer. Tears had filled her eyes by the end of it.

"Andy… I really like your face." "W-what? Come on."

She gazed at me with her tearful smile and murmured, "Your face is really pretty. It makes you look so kind."

People had teased me for looking like a girl before, but this was the first time anyone had actually called me pretty to my face. I was flustered.

"You're a weirdo, Janella."

"Heh-heh! I have a request for you, Andy. After school tomorrow, would you go to archery with me?"

I was surprised, so Janella gave me one more push. "Please, come with me and meet Anthony."

S is dangerous.

S sees through everything. S will probably destroy me.

Eventually, S will probably kill me.

What ecstasy that will be.

As I reread the book that night in my room, my mind wandered.

There's no Anthony Flavier on the archery team, so who is Janella taking me to meet? Or am I wrong?

It had been a few years since I'd read No Longer Human. It was still a story of suffering and hopelessness, but I must have grown up a little during the past few years and fallen out of step with everyone else because I felt as if I understood the protagonist's feelings better than when I'd last read it.

Oh, I remember that. It was like that for me, too. I realized those thoughts were drawing me into the story and my heart skipped a beat.

Oh man, he's casting his spell on me, too.

"Andy, you have a phone call."

My mom's voice sounded from downstairs. I picked up the family phone. It was Alice. "Ah-choo! Hello, Andy?"

Her cold had gotten worse, probably because she'd been pushing herself to come to school, and she'd gone home during the second period. Before she left, she had staggered into my class and scribbled her phone number on my hand, saying, "Here's my number. Take care of little Janella for me, okay?

Don't get too emotional. Be nice to her, and if you see a ghost throw salt everywhere and then run. Call me right away if anything happens."

"Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Good, you made it home. Why didn't you call me? I was afraid that you'd been eaten by a ghost! Ah-choo!"

I stretched out on my bed and held my hand up to look at Alice's phone number.

She didn't have to come all that way and then write it on me. I could have found it on the book club's member list (though it was only the two of us), but she'd grabbed my wrist and neatly written each number with a Sharpie.

Her eyes had been unfocused the whole time, and I'd been shocked at how hot and sweaty her hand had been.

"I would have felt bad if you were snuggled up in bed asleep. How are you feeling?"

"I'm all better. But more importantly, what's going on with Janella?"

I knew I couldn't believe her when she said she was fine: I remembered times when she'd pushed herself too far before. But I told her about my conversation with Janella.

She was surprised to hear that I was going with Janella to visit the archery team tomorrow.

"Anthony's ghost might appear. Don't forget to take some salt with you, Andy."

She was totally obsessed with ghosts. Did she know some ghosts personally? If there was such a thing as a goblin who eats books, I supposed it wouldn't be so strange if ghosts were real, too.

When I admitted that I'd been rereading No Longer Human and found myself getting into it, she sneezed and then chuckled.

"Whenever I'm com-plete-ly down in the dumps, that book can bum. me. out. Crumbling's magic is serious stuff."

"When have you ever been depressed, Alice?"

"How about when someone tells me I'm in a zone of romantic slaughter?" "Haha."

"Or when everyone is eating fruit parfaits and I'm the only one who can't taste how good they are…"

I stopped laughing. The stuff that you and I eat is nothing more than tasteless sand to Alice.

Not being able to taste the food that everyone around you swears is delicious must be so isolating. It's the exact same situation as the protagonist of Never Been Human who suffers because he can't feel what others feel.

Alice sneezed again, then said in a cheerful voice, "I make do with my imagination. I just picture a super delicious book, and then I can talk about how delicious everything is, too."

"You're such a book girl."

"Heh-heh. You got it. Oh, but there's one part of No Longer Human that I can never relate to."

"What's that?"

"When he says, 'I don't have any concept of what it means to feel hunger.' No matter how hard I try to imagine it, I can't understand that at all…. Man, talking to you made me hungry. Ah-choo!"

Even when she was sick or depressed, apparently Alice never changed much.

I told her she needed to take vitamin C for her cold, then hung up.

A book rich in vitamin C—I wondered what kind of book that would be.

Alice stayed home from school the next day. I guess she was trying to take care of herself.

After classes ended, Janella came looking for me. "All right, Andy, let's go!"

She was so excited, I might have thought we were going to an amusement park.

"What's this, Inoue? A date?" "No way!"

My classmates teased us, but I gently deflected it with a smile.

Abegail was glaring at me frigidly. Maybe she thought I was a two-faced liar because I'd told her that Janella and I weren't dating.

Janella was dragging me from the room, and we headed out. "You're sure Anthony is on the archery team?"

"Why are you asking me such a silly question after all this time? Of course, he is!"

And what exactly was so silly about that question?

I was still wary when we arrived at the archery team's practice hall. "Hello, everybody! Do you mind if we watch?" Janella called out brightly

at the entrance to the hall.

"Hey, it's Janella! Where've you been?"

"Hey, is that your boyfriend? Janella, I'm shocked!"

The team members came over and started talking to her as if they knew her well. I couldn't argue with the fact that Janella apparently came here all the time.

Which I guess means that she came here to see Anthony…

This was just getting more confusing.

Team members brought over two chairs for us.

Each time an arrow hit the bull's-eye, Janella would applaud and shout, "Wow! Amazing! Nice shot!"

A little way into practice, Johnny appeared in his uniform. When he saw me, he made a weird face.

I nodded slightly to him, and he returned the gesture. I'm sure he was only acting true to his character by not gossiping with someone from his class, but I was embarrassed that he thought I'd come to watch the practice with a date.

I whispered to Janella, "So which one is Anthony?"

"I'm lookiiing. Ohhh, it's him!"

Janella pointed.

I was blown away. The person she was pointing at was Johnny, currently drawing his bow. His back was perfectly straight and his face intent; he looked awesome.

"What? Johnny is Anthony?" "Whaaaaaat? You know him, Andy?"

"He's in my class. How can Johnny be Anthony? He's a second-year student, and he's so serious. I can't believe he's ever told a joke in his entire life."

"Yeah, that's true. He's what you would call 'stoic,' right?" "Huh? So Johnny isn't Anthony?"

Janella bubbled with laughter. "Of course he isn't! I just wanted to show you who was the best shooter on the team!"

Twang!

Johnny's arrow embedded itself in the center of the target.

"Eeee! Bull's-eye! That was great!" Janella leaped to her feet to cheer for him. "See? He's really good, isn't he?"

I fumed. "Janella, we are not spies from another school here to do reconnaissance on the archery team's practice, and we are not here to do a story for the school paper on who the hottest members of the archery team are."

"I know that! We're here so we can see Anthony."

"So where is he?"

"Let's see…"

Janella scanned the practice hall from end to end. Just then, four or five adults came in.

"Hey, there, kids! You practicing hard?" "Oh, it's Guy!"

"The alums are here, everybody!" "Hello, Mister Guy."

"Hey, Grims. You improved any since last time?"

"Yes! I practiced as you said, and now my arrows go exactly where I want them to."

"Great, I'll have to see that." "Thanks!"

"Stephen and Reona, too! You haven't been back to visit for a while."

"Well, we're here to bother you again."

"Heh-heh, it really has been a long time. So many memories!"

"I heard you're going to have a baby, Reona. Congratulations!"

"Thanks. I've still got a while to go, though. I stopped working last week, so now I have lots of time on my hands. I'll be right back here next month!"

"You sure, Reona? You shouldn't push yourself."

"You're such a worrier, Guy."

Apparently, the alumni had come to watch the team practice. There was one woman among the men.

"Once a month, some alumni come back and mentor the team," Janella explained. "That handsome man with the mustache is Mister Guy. He was captain ten years ago when they placed second in a national competition. The members from back then still get together and keep an eye on their successors, I guess."

"How'd you find all that out?"

"Because I've been coming here all the time to watch, of course. I'm like the team's cheerleader now," Janella said proudly.

We'd gotten off-topic again. When was I gonna see Anthony? Just then, I heard a voice that was tense with fear.

"Anthony—!"

I quickly scanned the area. Anthony had finally appeared!

But no matter which way I looked, I didn't see any likely candidates. "Anthony? That's impossible!"

"There's no way."

Other people were crying out in fearful voices. Where was he? Where?

Suddenly I smelled sweat and tobacco; I felt hands on either side of my face and I was pulled out of my chair.

The man with the mustache was staring down at me, his eyes so wide it seemed they would pop from their sockets. It was Guy, the alum.

"Anthony…"

The name slipped huskily from Guy's nicotine-stained lips as his eyes devoured me.

I was stupefied.

I… was Anthony?

Was he saying that Anthony Flavier was me?

Guy's hands dropped away from my cheeks, which had grown cold as ice.

"No… you're not him," he murmured weakly, the fire vanished from his eyes. "You couldn't be, of course… Anthony is—I'm sorry. You just looked like someone I knew. Are you with the school paper?"

"No, I'm here to watch the practice. I'm a second-year student."

The group of alumni had surrounded me, all of them looking at me as if they'd seen a ghost.

It disturbed me to be the object of such looks, and I shuddered.

Why were they looking at me like that? And why had they said that I looked like Anthony Flavier?

"He really does resemble Flavier," the woman whispered fiercely. "Flavier was a little taller, but… your face is exactly the same. You could be Flavier's brother. What's your name?"

"A-Adrian Barringer."

"Andy? That's an unusual name. But it's sweet. Is there anyone in your family named Flavier?"

"Hey, leave him alone, Reona."

One of the alums, an intellectual-looking man wearing glasses and a suit, interrupted the woman—Reona.

"But Andy might have some connection to Anthony. They look so alike."

"Not that alike. It's been so long since we've seen Anthony that the memory has faded, so we think that some boy who vaguely resembles him is his twin."

"Yeah… you may be right, Stephen."

"Guy…"

Reona's face stilled.

"Um—" I ventured impetuously. "What sort of person was Anthony Flavier?"

The group of alumni turned and regarded me as one. Then they looked at each other uncomfortably.

"Flavier was actually quite a troublemaker," Reona said suddenly. "He took the easy way out and didn't take anything seriously, and the only reason he ever spoke up was to tell a joke."

"Cut it out, Reona," Guy stopped her. Then he looked at me with a pained smile.

"Anthony was on the archery team with us."

With them!

So Anthony was a graduate of the archery team, too, just like Guy and the rest.

Anthony Flavier did exist.

But not on the current archery team—he had been on the team years ago.

I glanced over to see how Janella was taking this. She was staring at the alumni, round-eyed.

Huh? Hadn't she known that Anthony was a graduate? Or had she gotten a crush on him without realizing that? I suppose that might be possible.

"What's he doing now?"

What sort of man had Anthony Flavier become, from the boy who had constantly felt "dread at the fact that my own concept of happiness fails to mesh with the rest of the world's view of the same emotion," who had therefore decided to don the mask of a mime?

Beside me, I heard Janella's breath catch. Guy's face grew even gloomier.

"We aren't going to see Anthony again. I'm sorry, it's not a very pleasant story. Let's leave it at that. I'm truly sorry to have startled you, Andy."

"Let's get back to practice!" the man in the glasses said brightly, and no one said anything more about Anthony.

The alums split off to mentor the kids, leaving Janella and me by ourselves.

Janella fixated on the targets with a strained expression on her face.

Her face was hard and strong—and intent—as if she were looking at a hated enemy.

"Janella?"

She looked at me, and her face was horribly empty. "… I'm sorry. It looks like Anthony isn't coming today."