Rubik's Cube

Rubik's Cube

Every love story’s a ghost story.  The phrase pops to mind as the barista hands me two strawberry lattes.  I cross the carpeted foyer of Marie’s Movie Theater and exit through the rotating glass doors. 

It is high summer coming to fall and I am in ecstasy.  The warm evening air seeps into my bones illuminating my senses.  My euphoria ends when I don’t see Julie.  I look about in the thick mass of humanity and can't find her.  There's a lump in my throat. 

Maybe I was a terrible date and she ditched me.  Maybe I imagined everything. It’s hard to breathe.

I hurry down the sidewalk.  Delford Plaza is a tiny strip mall, but it has everything small towns like Delford need. A grocer, drug store, liquor store, bank, theater, and dollar store.  I come to the dollar store at the mall’s end.

The door swings open and out pops a blanket of ginger curls that Rapunzel would envy. I can't react in time and we collide.  A cup slips and erupts against the pavement.  Julie jumps back to ditch the explosion, but foam hits her leg. Her white dress and dark cardigan survive pristine.

“Tim! Seriously!” She lasers her eyes on me.  They are brown and bright and in certain lights look golden.  She is shorter than me and has the prettiest face I will ever see. Then she tries to shake her leg dry to no avail.  A customer hands her a tissue and Julie wipes her shin. 

“Sorry. I’ll get another.” I run a hand through my dark hair.  It is a reminder of my Roma heritage.  I prefer the term gypsy, but my mother wails against it. Roma must do.

“Bet you bought two strawberry lattes. We’ll share.” She holds a plastic bag.  (I make out the square outline of whatever's inside.) 

Her fingers brush along my joints when she grabs the cup. The sensation is electric. Proof that the evening is real.  She sips and hands it back to me.

“My favorite!” Her chuckle calms my soul. Julie’s the only girl I know with three dimples.  One is right below her left eye.  She hates them.  I love’em. 

"And don't litter." She turns away. Her hair swings like a cape behind her.  It hides the tattoo she got at the start of summer.

I look down and notice the cap under my shoe.  I pick it and the cup up and toss them into a nearby wastebasket as I catch up with Julie.

We round the corner onto Main Street and walk under the starry sky.  She nods up and we bear witness to a shooting star streaking across the pale moon.  It is just a frozen rock disintegrating.  But, in this finite kernel of time, it is beautiful.

"Make a wish?"

I only shrug and smirk.

"Smooth," she says, “I almost forgot.  Gotcha something.” She reaches into the plastic dollar store bag and tosses me a Rubik’s Cube. The toy is wrapped in unmarked plastic.

“A Rubik’s Cube?”

“You loved these when we were kids.  Annoyed me so much with them!”  She laughs. It’s a full, yet contained, laugh. The sort that affirms the world is good; the impossible is possible. 

I choose to believe her smile.

Julie tears off the plastic and plays.  She turns the colored cubes this way and that way, trying to understand what attracted me to this contraption so long ago.

A red sedan – the hand-me-down type – pulls up alongside us.  She slips the puzzle into a jacket pocket.

Mike is driving. He is older than us and graduates this year.  Mike’s eyes are red and contrast to his pale complexion. His hair, normally spiked, is matted under a backwards cap.  “We're testing out how this baby drives.  Wanna come?”

The car is dark inside. It reeks of incense. Two others sit in the shadows of the backseat.  It is as if they are mystics of an ancient order. Wisps of smoke snake up their silhouettes.

“No, we’re gonna just go home. Call it a night.” Julie takes the initiative.

“All righty, homies.” Mike says as a hand from the depths of the back seat appears with a bottle. The cruet seems to hover in front of his eyes.  Mike welcomes it, puts flask to his lips, and drinks. 

Julie begins to speak but the sedan drives off. 

“Make it a good one, kids!” Mike yells above the engine's roar and sticks out the bottle. A sick toast to the night.

She’s worried.  I tell her Mike’s young and stupid and we should have taken him up on the ride.  My mom knows the Gypsy Reincarnation Incantation.  If anything happens to Mike, the chant requires only that someone miss the guy.

Julie is not amused; she tells me to grow up.  The topic is a lost cause and I hark back to talking about the toy. 

I tell her a typical Rubik’s Cube has 43 quintillion permutations, but ads can only say it has billions. Quintillion is too high a number for the general public. Advertisers can’t use it in commercials. The puny billion must do.

“I know,” Julie replies. Then she raises her eyebrows and coldly looks into my eyes. “A permutation for every day that you’ve liked -- no loved -- me.”  She nudges a shoulder against mine. 

My blood must run from my face because I stop in my tracks. She turns to me and grabs my arm.

“Oh come on!  Why do you think I asked you out?”

All I can muster is a soft/stuttering how did you know. 

“It's a girl thing. We have a sixth sense about these things.  And you're not subtle," she shrugs.  "I decided to help.” 

She takes my hand and we stroll on. We pass rows of houses. Some are fenced and others not. Windows flank the front doors.  We talk and I regain my confidence.  I think she's guiding the conversation purposely to soothe my nerves. I say things I haven't been able to say for a while now. Finally we turn onto our street - Clover Dock. 

We are on Julie's side of the street and come to the open, white fence in front of her house.  Daffodils peak through the pickets.  We step onto a cobblestone pathway. Julie and I live across the street from one another.  Sleepovers are easy and fairly routine and forgettable in a way.  The outside light is on but the windows are dark.  It's testament to the faith her parents have in her maturity.  I guess they haven't seen her tattoo.

I breathe out. There's a rough, cottony ache in my lungs.  I have no manual for this. My palms are sweaty when we reach her green door. She fiddles out her keys and clicks one into the lock.

I want to say something great but can't speak. She says this is as far as I go tonight.  It was fun. She'll let me know when we can do it again. We exchange good nights. She steps inside and I head for home.  The outside light is out at my house because my mom is away for work.

My head runs spreadsheets.  Where did I go wrong? She's always let me inside. I should have rehearsed.  And now it's over. Midway across the street, I hear steps behind me.  I keep on my solemn trudge. Then a hand spins me around.

Julie holds out the Rubik's Cube.  She says I forgot it. She adds that I'm stupid and I owe her a good night kiss. I manage a fumbled peck. 

"Really? I'm gonna start regretting crushing on a gypsy." She sweeps her hair off a shoulder.  Studs line her ear.

Her wrists slide around my neck and her heels lift as she moves in.  She smells like velvet.  I taste strawberries.  It starts slow and builds up and pushes out the world entire.

White lights blind me.  We have no time to react.  My body crashes against Julie's. We spin and hover in the air as if we are specks of dust under the gaze of an afternoon sun. I see Mike's car below us, but it doesn't register with me. I hit the pavement with a thud and can't help but think it should hurt more.  My arm burns.  I can't quite turn my head.

She lays on the ground.  This is bad.  Her hair sweeps her face and sprawls on the ground like roots seeking salvation. 

There is a deafening eruption. The force shakes me and helps clear Julie's face.  Chunks of burning metals fly into view. The puzzle rolls to a stop between us. The street is ablaze.

I see only one of her eyes.  It looks at me.  The corner of her lip bleeds.  Her chin rests in a pool of blood; her toes point up. 

She reaches for me.  And I reach for her.  But we are too far apart.  We can do no more than touch the toy with bloodied fingers. Her eye twitches and she gurgles.

I hear gibberish.  Frantic footsteps pound toward me.  A siren pierces the hot air.  It is faint, but grows.  Then it multiplies as my eyelids fall over my eyes like iron curtains.  I fight to open them. In the end, I surrender/give in.


I battle comas and the occasional seizure. Doctors insert rods and screws in me to fix broken parts.  I miss Julie's funeral.

**********6 MONTHS AFTER ************

Months pass before I am released. A nurse wheels me out to the car and into my mom's waiting arms. She's added bangs and highlights to her black hair. I'm told Mike and his cohorts did not escape.  Good. 

There are balloons in the backseat.  They must make it difficult to drive.  I think she's convinced I like the helium balloons so she ignores the nuisance.  She wants me home and happy.  We stop for hot chocolate.  Her voice wavers when she says she loves me for the hundredth time. She kisses my forehead.

In time, my mom pulls onto our driveway and turns off the engine.  I have a hard time getting out.  She helps.  A white sign with red letters spells SOLD in Julie's yard.  The daffodils and picket fence are gone. 

A green sedan pulls up in Julie's driveway.  A pixie haired girl and two adults come out and enter the house.  My blood boils.

My mom's unsure of what to do once we're inside. She's passionate about photographs and there are dozens of both our families.  I ask about Julie's house.  She tells me Julie's parents split.  Last thing they did together was to visit me. 

She presents me with the Rubik's Cube.  I thought it was long gone. There are scratches and dents.  Some of its faces have dried blood.  Its faces don't turn as easily as they did. They lock a bit and it takes effort.  But, it's in working condition.

Police held it in evidence.  Lawyers wondered about it.  She guesses Julie got it for me.  Julie knew I was nervous.  Everyone did. Her parents want me to have it.

I say thanks but I want to sleep.  She says she understands and I hobble off.

The door to my room faces the stairs.  It is an added convenience on the days I am running late for school. Often. 

My room is generally a mess.  There are clothes and papers and my bed is never made. It drives Julie and my mom mad. Paper plates and plastic utensils in particular. Today it's vacuumed. And it smells like roses. The bed is made. There are proper stacks of loose sleeve papers. Some old Rubik's Cubes decorate my dresser and others flank shelved books. Tucked between some textbooks is a book on Roma traditions.  I pull it out. I sit on the window ledge which overlooks Julie's room and begin to read.

I spend the next few months in rehab.  Scars notwithstanding, my body heals by the time summer comes around.  Julie haunts my thoughts; I avoid her grave. 

I read up.

The Gypsy Reincarnation Incantation is really called the Soulmates Song. And it is a strange thing.  It only empowers an object to bring back someone you miss. The person returns as a ghost. 

The deceased must have gifted the object to the speaker when both were alive. And the object should have knobs and switches because each setting lasts a day.  A Rubik’s Cube’s twists cheat the magic.

There's a caveat.  You must always twist a knob or switch, because returning is permanent.  If I forget to turn the cube, Julie will become corporal. But she will also be unstable and violent.  She won't be the Julie I knew.  And I must burn our Rubik’s Cube. I must twist the cube everyday.  Like popping a pill. 

I sometimes bring up the subject to my mom, but she disapproves of the Soulmates Song. I research it myself.


One night, I go downstairs and find my mom sitting at the kitchen table.  She is having a glass of wine with bread dipped in olive oil and cheese and lost in her thoughts.  It is a basic Roma snack.  Her eyes light up when she sees me.

"You want anything?"

"Not really," I fork a piece of cheese. "I want to ask about the Soulmates Song."

She grabs the bridge of her nose as if she's in pain.

"No."

"I want to know."

"There's nothing to know. It's only a poem."

"What's the astrology component? And what kind of objects qualify?"

"No." Fire burns in my mom's eyes.

"I have to try."

"It isn't real!"  She crashes her hands against the table. Silverware rattles. She stands. "The reciter needs to have died with the person you're bringing back, but somehow have come back."  She points at me holding her fingers as if she were holding potato chips.  "Honey, I know I'm the bad guy here.  But the bar on these things is impossibly high for a reason.  They are fake. So they need ridiculous conditions. Old wives tales.  You'll break your heart and you've already lost so much. I won't have it."

My mom doesn't understand that I killed Julie.  She died because I couldn't lean into her on her doorstep. Julie's death is etched on my bones. 

I continue researching.  Much of the material is from bad html pages.  I labor through, stitching pieces together.  Some parts contradict. But the legend is consistent in this: but if she is corporal, I must burn the Rubik's Cube, for my own safety.

There is no recorded successful application of the Soulmates Song.  From what I learn it takes an object of value, the chant itself, ingredients like flour and olive oil, the death must occur on a day or night where an astrological event – like a shooting star – was observed and my own death.

This last part is difficult. But I did die!  By the standards of a chant designed in antiquity.  Without medical advancements I would be dead.  I almost died in the hospital bed while strapped to life saving instruments!  Maybe to the scribers someone who was unconscious and fell into a comma was dead.

**********REINCARNATION************

It is pouring on the night I decide to reincarnate Julie. My mom is away on a conference so the timing works. Rain pounds the side of my house.  First, I put the toy down on the wooden floor at the foot of my bed. I enclose it with flour.  I can barely fit in. Then I pour olive oil - clearly a gypsy staple - over the flour. 

I step back out of the circle and kneel between my bed and the circle.  My knees ache against the floor boards. I pull out a couple of folded sheets. One contains the rant and the other is a gypsy pronunciation key.

I breathe deep and utter the syllables.  In my soul, I pray with all my might. By the time I finish my heart rate has accelerated.  Part of me worries I will have a stroke. It's the end of me.  The other reminds me this is for Julie.  I don't matter.

Nothing happens.  The cube is unmoved and unchanged.  The rainfall slows to a trickle.  A circle of oil steeped flour is all I have for my trouble.  I don't have the heart to try again.  I stand up with whatever strength I have and drop onto my bed face first.  I cry without pretense.  My face is buried in my pillow but some light breaks through.  Darkness is my comfort.

A soft clicking wakes me.  I don't know what it is but it seems to come from the direction of my feet. I sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed. The cube is rustling side to side like a jumping bean.  It glows and its faces are florescent lights.   

I step down off the bed and stand over the flour circle.  All I can do is stare at the thing and wonder if I am dreaming.  I don't bother to turn on the lights. Dawn is breaking and there's enough brightness from the toy to light up the room. I bend and hold the cube down with only the pads of my fingers. Something is bustling inside.  Electricity like an itch digging inside my very bones.  When I decide to pick it up, a white light erupts. I'm blinded and fly back against the foot of the bed. 

The light falls in on itself.  It turns into something like a cocoon.  Speechless, I only watch.  Something moves inside, but I can't understand any of this.  The light contracts until it vanishes.  It takes me a bit to adjust to new found darkness. When I finally do, a silhouette emerges.  It builds up as if it were a loaf of bread rising.  It's a full figure.  Her back arches as she gasps for air.  Then she lays on her back. A hand slowly goes across her belly. 

I realize I am heaving.  My body tingles like my blood is carbonated.  I think my chest will rupture. But I can't get my breathing under control. I don't bother.  I want to whisper her name, but I fear the moment is too fragile and even a whisper would tear the fabric of this reverie.  The bed frame digs into my back, but I don't mind.

"Tim?"

Something in me bids me to grab the Rubik's Cube at her side, as if it is key to reality.

I point to the first row of faces.

"Colors." I demand. In dreams you can't keep track of details. I don't think.

"What?"

"Colors!"

I tap my finger on the cube and draw her attention.  Julie slowly sits up.

"Red, white, yellow?" She asks.

My heart catches in my throat when I look down. I see yellow, white, and red.  I realize I'm staring at it upside down. Julie's right. This isn't a dream. Julie's here. It's one of those special corners of reality, a moment where the world dwindles to just us, and I am seized into life.

I throw myself over her body and hug her tightly. My hands feel bushels of hair. I feel her bones against my arms.  Her touch steals my words from my lips and tosses them away. I’m glad they’re gone.  I chuckle and sob and I sink into the moment. 

*********DAY 1************

Once I have filled her in on everything, I locate her parents on the internet.  Her mom is still close by; her dad isn’t.

“My parents moved away.” 

I turn away from my computer to find her sitting on the ledge, looking out at her bedroom window as the Pixie girl looks in our direction.  The Pixie girl waves at me.  I ignore her as the internet shows me her mom’s new house. 

“They had a really hard time with what happened.” I still refuse to say the word. “But, we’ll start getting them together again once we get you corporal.”

“Did you meet her?” She nods in Pixie girl’s direction, but I still ask who.

“Her.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Julie looks at me.

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Today then.” She stands.

I watch her as she grabs an ordinary Rubic's Cube and walks past me. She sits Indian style on my bed.

“What?”  Her question is as direct as her gaze.

“What was it like? Do you remember anything?”

“The accident? Yeah.  Pain.  Lots of it. Then colors.”  She plays with the puzzle. "So vibrant and fierce.  Probably, my brain shutting down," she says with a shrug. "Then here."

"Wow. So, no afterlife then. Heaven. Valhalla. Nothing."

"Tim, mine was here. It was everything I've known brought in perfect permutations, if you will." She senses I'm confused because she gives me the tiniest of smiles, then continues, "Like your Rubik's Cube. Yeah.  The faces and colors were the same.  I didn't meet rock stars or historical people. My parents, yours, friends, you, and just everyday people were there.  But it's like you all had a direct line into my mind and my desires.  Everything I wanted happened when I wanted it to.  A quintillion permutations.  All chosen and set in motion by me."  Her eyes lock up with mine, and I can't look down. "Then I flew up. Pulled, I guess. And it felt like I couldn't breathe for the longest time. Then I woke up on your floor."

"Wow."

“Tim.” She tosses her hair over to one side. “come in.”

I climb in on my knees.  She lays me down and gets on top.  Julie clasps my hands around her neck.  She brings her lips to mine and I have never felt more awake. 


**********DAY 2************

The box of munchkins hangs from my fingers as Julie and I cross the street toward her house.  The sidewalk blends into the yard now.  Flowers line up underneath the shrubs alongside her home.

I look at Julie.  She's stoic. There's a breeze and her white dress crinkles on her thighs. We reach the door.  I don't want to do this.  I don't want to meet these intruders but I stay silent.

"Ring." Then she reads my mind, "Be nice." 

"Of course."

"I mean it."

The door opens and the pixie girl pops out before I can reply to Julie.

"Hi." The girl says. Her hazelnut hair is spiked in a way that makes her face seem embraced by a halo. 

Then I notice the shirt.  It's black with a Rubik's Cube. The audacity.

"Introduce your self." Julie's voice rings in my ear.

"T-T-Tim."

I feel Julie's palm raise my wrist and present the munchkins to the girl. 

"Jade. Nah way! I haven't had munchkins in forever!"  Jade grabs the box. Her fingers are warm against my joints.  The sensation takes me back to when Julie took my coffee cup.  It was the last thing I ever bought her. I'm angry at this Jade.

"Come in! let's dig in!" Her smile is wide and genuine.

"No."

"Yes, Tim." Julie speaks up and makes me madder.

"No." It comes out harsher than I intend.  And, really, it's directed at Julie. But I doubt Jade understands this.

Jade leans back. "Um, OK.  Thanks for the munchkins, anyway."

"I have to go." I feel Julie's stare burn a hole in the side of my head.

"OK, sure. Yeah. Maybe next time."

"Maybe." I turn away. And Julie and I leave the yard.

"Jerk." Julie says.

"Seriously?"

"You're apologizing in school on Monday."

I hear the plopping of rubber on pavement approach from behind.  I turn around.

"Hey, Tim." Jade's jogged over to me. She puts a hand on my shoulder before I can speak. "I'm really sorry about your girlfriend. Really.  I think we'll be in the same grade when you return to school. Maybe we'll talk." Again, she sounds sincere.  This bothers me.

"I don't think I'm coming back." Julie stands between us on the side and her lips parse when she finds out.

"Oh."  Jade says.

"Yeah. See you."

"Well.  You're very missed in school.  So is Julie." 

"I have to go." I start walking away.  I'm aware Julie's burning a bigger hole in the back on my head now.  But Jade needs to watch her mouth.  First she moves into Julie's house.  Then, into Julie's room.  Now, she says Julie's name!

"Hey, if it's worth anything. . ."

"It isn't. It's worth nothing.  Actually whatever it is, it's worth less than zero." I feel the veins in my neck pulsing. It's only Julie's figure - arms crossed, lips sealed, eyes locked on me - that keep me from exploding on this girl.

Jade looks down and whispers, "Sorry."

I head back home and slam my door shut, hopeful Jade heard it. 

"Asshole. Asshole. Asshole." Julie's voice grows louder and her tone is sterner with each word. 

I follow her up the stairs into my room. 

"She said things she has no right to talk about..."

"She was being friendly!" Her hands ball into fists at her side.

"She shouldn't even be living next door!" I holler back.

Julie grabs the bridge of her nose. She breathes in. Then she stands and avoids eye contact as she walks to the window sill and sits looking out toward her room. 

She says, "Karen let you leave school?"

"Bringing you back wasn't easy.  I needed the time.  This is important." I realize I’m playing with the Rubik’s Cube.  Its mechanics are straining inside.

We’re speaking to each other’s reflections on the glass. We could be ghosts.





/////////////////////

She takes my hand and steps down to my level.  And we stare at one another, sitting with our legs underneath us.  She cradles my face in hers, and then pulls me into her lips.  Then she stops.  Our lips part.  A bit of me dies.

//////////////////////

“Mike took everything from us. Why should your body break?” I see her eyes drop but I go on, “I watched you…We were innocent.”

“You see Jade’s shirt?”

I don’t reply.

“She’s very pretty.”

“She isn’t you.”

“She’s Jade and she likes you.”

Julie grabs the Cube. And I see a whiff of smoke snake up. Eventually she juggles the Cube as if it were a hot potato and then tosses in on the bed. 

“Interesting,” I say. Then when she looks at me, so I elaborate, “The burning. The Cube has a physically effect on you.  You can’t touch it.”

“The burns heal fast.” She shows me her hand.  “But you’re pissing me off. Please leave,” she says, “It’s your room, but get out.”

I obey. At the doorway, I stop hoping to catch her reflection against the glass, but her curls hide it.  So I go down the stairs and out the door.

Spruce trees are in full bloom as I roam about town.  She’s not here but I imagine her aura next me.  I let it take me over.  Strawberries and fresh breezes.  I walk to Delford Plaza.  I pass by neighbors and faces.  To those who recognize me I am broken.  They nod their sympathies and go with their day.  I don’t belong. At least not any more.  Maybe Delford accepted me because she accepted them.  It stings the air. 

I need Julie back whole.  Now.  So I have to chance it.  I am not turning the Cube in the morning. My mind is made.  I head back.

When I enter my room I find her in bed.  She faces me. 

“You were out a while.” Julie looks at the digital clock on the night stand.

I shrug and head toward the night stand.

“Sorry about earlier. It’s just everything’s so different now.”

I yank the plug out of the socket. The display goes blank.  “Never say sorry to me, again.”

When I face Julie, the face is solemn and her breathing is heavy. 

“What are you doing?” 

“We’re sleeping through the night. An experiment.”

I get in bed beside her. 

“But you have to turn the Cube really early.”

“Chancing it.”

“No, Tim.”

“The Incantation did its job. It got us here.  It was written centuries ago by people who’re long dead.  We’re applying the scientific method from here on.  We’re doing this the modern way – and getting a good night’s sleep.”  I throw her a smile and she smiles back apprehensively.

“Don’t, Tim. Please.” A tear comes down the side of her cheek.

“You’ve been here my whole life.  Now I’m gonna be here for you.”

“The Incantation is clear on this.”

“Not anymore.”

We lie on our backs with our fingers intertwined. 

Outside, the universe lights up the evening.  Each time I blink the stars swirl and dissolve, skimming across my eyes like tears.  I watch as a shooting star races across the night.  This time I make a wish knowing I’m in over my head. 

“Good night, Tim,” She whispers into the darkness.

**********DAY 3************

I wake to a crashing sound against my bed.  Julie isn’t beside me.  She shivers at the foot of the bed.  I jump off and kneel before her. 

“It hurts,” she says looking up at me. A strain of blood trickles from her nose.  It builds into a ball and falls onto the bare floor.  It splatters. 

“I couldn’t wake you.  Please turn it,”

My decision is final. I can only wipe the blood from her lip. 

“Tim?”

“I’m here.”

“I feel it.  Like there’s something, gnawing at my belly. Please Tim.”

I wrap my arms around her and I whisper, “It’s only fear.  I’m here.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” She sobs. I shackle her in my embrace. 

“You won’t. You’ll fight it.” I feel her teeth resting on my shoulder and her chest against my chest. It’s then that I realize there is something in her skin.  An electric current snaking about.  There are many crisscrossing her body.  I tighten my arms. 

She wails. 

“Promise.”

“Yes.”

“No swear to me on something important.”

“I swear on strawberry lattes and stupid Rubik’s Cubes.”