The Quiz

by Onyi Ugochuku

Chapter 1

This is for Lisa, and all the readers who are about to take that wretched quiz, or who are taking it….but if they have already taken it, there is nothing I can do. It’s too late–and I just hope they are given happier endings than those of my late companions. Perhaps they shall marry happily like Avery. But then again, they might not. If I’ve learned anything in the past, it’s this: don’t mess with fate….or quizzes about fate.

I recall that everything began the summer we were sixteen. School was out, but the four of us had signed up for drama lessons at the community center, so we were pretty busy. Our teacher, Mr. Evans, assigned us a project every week.

This time he had instructed, “Look up monologues in Shakespeare’s plays, I want you each to choose one speech of at least thirty lines and memorize it. You will present it next Monday.”

So the next day, we were in my bedroom, researching the best monologues on our cellphones.

I treasure that image—my three best friends and I all together enjoying each other. Even now, I close my eyes and see Violet Larson bouncing on my bed, unable to keep still for a moment. Janet Rich crouches on the floor, giggling in her sweet, frightened manner. Avery Beckham is beside her, focused on her recitation piece, her green eyes glowing intently.

I did not know then that that was the last time I would see them before that stain crept into our lives…

“Oh man, look at this!” laughed Violet.

“Saw a good monologue?” I asked her.

“Oh—oh, yeah, that. No, I forgot about it. This is something that popped up on my screen, and I clicked it.”

Looking over her shoulder, I saw her phone.

“Shakespeare’s Characters’ Fates: Which Is Yours?” I read. “What’s that about?”

Violet scrolled down and read: “In his lifetime, William Shakespeare created hundreds of characters in his plays, and they all met interesting ends. Which one are you? Will you end up at Katherine’s wedding or at the tip of Hamlet’s sword? Take this detailed quiz and find out!”

Avery and Janet had approached us, and were looking at Violet’s screen as well.

“Wait…is this a game?” ventured Janet. “I mean…it’s a little morbid, isn’t it?”

It was then that I made the greatest error of my life. I said, “Janet, please stop being so nervous. The quiz looks pretty interesting. In fact, let’s all take it.”

“Detailed Quiz” was a highly inaccurate term for the series of multiple-choice questions we answered. Hours later, we were still working on it, having completely forgotten Mr. Evans’ project.

Indeed, it took us six hours to finish. Now each stared at a page reading only, “SEE RESULTS.” We glanced at each other eagerly, wondering who would go first.

Without asking, Violet clicked on her link. We all crowded around to read it.

A single line read:

Answers indicate: You share a fate with Regan from King Lear.

We looked at each other nervously. Regan, we knew, was a woman poisoned by her spiteful sister as they competed for the hand of Edmund of Gloucester. If this was the sort of end that the quiz implied for Violet, we were all uneasy about what it would predict about us.

“Gina may be nasty, but I’m sure she wouldn’t do that,” said Avery. “You needn’t be afraid, Violet.”

She bit her lip and said nothing.

Janet was much too fearful to click on hers, so she gave the phone to Violet, who opened the link.

Answers indicate: You share a fate with Ophelia from Hamlet.

Janet screeched and leapt backwards when she read it. Ophelia—the lady who drowned herself when deserted by Hamlet! The stories seemed worse and worse.

No one but Avery would ever have clicked on her link after those unhappy predictions. But Avery isn’t like others. She showed the screen to us very calmly, and we all relaxed.

Answers indicate: You share a fate with Beatrice from Much Ado about Nothing.

Oh, that funny lady who married the unlikely Benedick! For the first time, we became more confident. The girls even asked me to show my own results. But somehow, I still didn’t trust the quiz, and I feared to read the answer. I shook my head, and they understood.

When they had all left, I sat on my bed, thinking over the past day’s events. Suddenly, I felt weird…dizzy, light-headed.

I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up, holding my head on my arm, and trying to stop the dizzy feeling. I couldn’t see anything, even though my eyes were open.. Then I could see, and before my eyes was a swirl of people…Violet, Janet, Avery, and even Violet’s elder sister Gina, and a strange young man whom I had never seen before. Then I was on my bed once more, and felt better again.

The episode passed, and I never spoke of it. I was to experience more of them later.

Chapter 2

When my story resumes, we were all twenty-two years old. None of us had pursued careers related to drama, and I suppose that’s why the quiz passed out of our minds.

All of us, except Violet, were staying close to home now.

Janet had dropped out of college in her first year. We had all begged her to keep studying there and press on. But she wouldn’t listen, and now worked as a waitress at the local pizza parlor.

As for myself, I was working as a cashier. No, it wasn’t prestigious for a person who had studied business with the hope of opening her own store, but I didn’t have the money to keep going to college, so I had to earn what I could so that I could return to school. Meanwhile, I was sharing an apartment with Avery, who was working as assistant music director at the community center. So here my story will pick up…

This story would be incomplete without Victor Ryan. Victor…yes, when I first met him, I instinctively knew I had seen him before, even though he had just moved here. I don’t know if that was why I never was very comfortable around him, despite the fact that he was a pleasant young man. But I know that if I don’t introduce Victor, then I can’t tell this story.

As soon as Violet finished college, she went on a ten-day vacation to the beach. When she returned, we met her at the bus stop.

“It’s so good to see you all,” she gushed, embracing us. Then, with a wry smile, she added, “I wouldn’t get this sort of greeting from Gina, at any rate.”

“Really?” I asked. “Gina’s been a lot nicer these days, you know.”

“Oh?” replied Violet. “She certainly hasn’t spoken to me for the past two months.”

“Well, I mean,” Janet offered, “she’s been smiling a lot more. And then too, she saw me yesterday and offered to buy me some coffee.”

Violet looked skeptical. “Some ulterior motive?”

“No, no, you’d never guess!” I laughed.

“What?”

Avery spoke for the first time, wrinkling her nose. “Gina’s in love.”

Violet’s mouth fell open. “Who would want to marry Gina? Ugh!”

“Well, you know that old weirdo she’s working for, Mr. Ryan? Well, a couple months ago, his nephew moved in. He was supposed to be working in his father’s company, but he didn’t want to, so his parents sent him to take care of his uncle while he’s trying to find a job or something.We met him about a week ago, and I think Gina totally loves him.”

“How old is he?” asked Violet.

“Twenty-three, I think,” said Janet.

“How could she like a guy four years younger than her? Wait, does he like her too?”

Avery replied sharply, “Like her? He’s almost as weird as his uncle. Wanders about all day aimlessly. Lazy man with no ambitions at all. I feel sorry for Gina if she ever marries him.”

“Avery doesn’t really like Victor,” I whispered to Violet. “They had a quarrel the first day they met.”

She giggled.

“Let’s meet this guy,” said Violet. “What’s his name?”

“Victor,” said Janet.

“Let’s drop by at the Ryans’ and speak to Gina herself,” laughed Violet. “She’s got some explaining to do.”

Mr. Arnold Ryan was about sixty, and lived in a great house in the richest part of the town. He was known for being a little strange, and spending most of his time and money buying chemicals and poisons with which he experimented on countless guinea pigs, and trying to publish his results in the medical papers. Gina worked as his secretary, but besides that he had no maids or servants, preferring to live alone.

Mr. Ryan himself showed us in, brushing back his white hair and mumbling about some guinea pigs escaping. He said he’d send Gina over as soon as he could, but until then could we just stay in the living room? Without waiting for a response, he left.

We stood in the parlor, waiting. Then the door opened, and Violet stepped forward to speak. She stopped.

Victor Ryan entered the room. Even now, I close my eyes and see again that handsome face, framed by rich dark hair—that dashing young man with sparkling dark eyes. Dressed in a trim little sports jacket, he bounced toward us with that eager, energetic grin of his.

He immediately offered Violet his hand, but she didn’t take it. I saw her face—it was frozen with awe. Concerned, I touched her shoulder.

She glanced at me, and her face resumed its normal state. With a laugh, she turned back to Victor. “Oh—I’m Gina’s sister, Violet. We came to say hi to Gina, since I’m back from vacation today. You’re Victor, right?”

He smiled. “Of course, yes. I met some of you last week, didn't I? Let me see, this is Quincey, that’s Janet, and that’s—Avery. Yes, I suppose you’re all friends?”

Violet laughed. “We’ve been best friends through high school.”

He sat down and began to chat with us. Avery refused to say much, and I watched her with some concern. I felt Avery was jealous of Victor and irritated at the attention he always got, as well as disgusted with his aimless life. And to be honest, I wasn’t overly fond of him myself. For one thing, Janet was growing too fond of him for her own good, getting flustered and excited when he even spoke to her. And for another, I always had the irrational feeling that we had met long ago, which annoyed and distracted me to no end.

Right then, he was on a couch, laughing and sharing stories with Violet. At his other side sat Janet, watching him closely but too timid to say anything unless spoken to. Avery and I were on a couch opposite, viewing them silently.

I’m not sure at what point during their boisterous conversation that Victor and Violet began holding hands. I only remember noticing it at some time, and glancing at Avery in surprise. She nodded back to me grimly.

Suddenly the door opened, and Gina entered the room, balancing two beakers of liquid in her hands. She turned toward us. I was startled. Was I imagining things, or did she stiffen slightly at the sight of Victor holding Violet’s hand? Either way, she only said:

“Victor, I don’t know what your uncle plans to prove by adding all this stuff to his prussic acid potion.”

“I never know myself,” responded Victor with a laugh. “Anyway, I’ve been enjoying the company of your sister and her friends–most of them.” He shot an amused glance at Avery.

“That’s nice,” said Gina without greeting Violet.

“I guess you’re going to have a lot of time together?” Victor asked.

“No,” said Gina coldly. “I’m actually leaving town all July and most of August. Your uncle says he’s sending me on a trip to Malta in two weeks, to share some of the results of his newest experiment.” She grimaced.

“Sounds like the sort of thing he would do,” he laughed.

“It’s all right. Some of my friends are in Malta too.”

“So I’m not your friend, Gina?” he asked with amusement.

She smiled, and spoke in a more tender voice. “You’re more than that, Victor.”

“Oh really?” he replied lightly.

She frowned a little suddenly, and glanced sharply from Victor to Violet. Then she shook her head and left the room.

When we went home, the conversation was only about Victor. Violet talked about him nonstop, praising his looks, his manners, his speech, everything. “And,” she added, “to think that Gina likes him! He’s not fit for her at all.” She sounded so vehement that we all stopped to look at her. “Anyhow, I’m glad she’ll be away next month. He needs to be free from her influence…I don’t want her around him.”

Chapter 3

Everything was happening too fast. Gina left on July 2, and Violet almost immediately began visiting Victor every day. She literally spent hours sitting in the laboratory chatting with him, or taking walks with him, or coming to eat dinner with him and his uncle. Neither of them had jobs, so they could meet whenever they wished. Often as Janet and I were resting on a Saturday afternoon after a hard week at work, the two of them were skipping down the street talking and laughing.

By this time it had become clear to nearly everyone whom Victor really loved. He and Violet were devoted to each other. With my natural reserve towards him, I didn’t feel comfortable thinking about this infatuation, and almost wished that he would marry Gina or somebody else outside our circle.

Avery too resented the fact that Victor’s presence had shaken up our little group. Now we rarely had a chance to speak to Violet without some irritating phone call from him. Then, Janet was growing unhappier, one day mentioning to me that “I never will marry, Quincey. I’ll just be content to be a bridesmaid..”

“A bridesmaid?”

“At Violet’s wedding.”

I put my arm around her, and told her that she would find a husband in the future. But after that, I realized that it was a great struggle for Janet to be happy for Violet.

I said “nearly everyone” had figured out about the two. That didn’t include Gina. She sent Victor a postcard every weekend, even though he never responded. Each of these would have a little note: “For my friend, Victor.” “For my best friend, Victor.” “For Victor, with love, Gina.” But he never took the hints, and I saw the postcards carelessly strewn on his coffee table, where they lay for weeks..

Did I try to warn Violet? No. I think I was too shy. Avery, of course, tried to give her a talking-to, but Violet ignored her and called her “jealous.” So none of us did anything more.

We paid for our decision.

Gina arrived home on the 13th of August, and started work the next day. Personally, I was more than relieved to have someone around to discourage Violet from seeing Victor. Gina didn’t seem to have noticed anything new.

On the evening of August 14th, Avery and Janet decided to go watch a local football game. Violet, who had spent the whole morning with Victor at a coffee shop, said she was very busy and would stay at home. As for myself, I wasn’t feeling well, and went to bed early.

Then it happened.

I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up, holding my head on my arm, and trying to stop the dizzy feeling. I couldn’t see anything, even though my eyes were open.

This had happened before–when?

Now I could see again—but I was no longer in the apartment’s bedroom, but the Ryans’ living room. Horrified, I tried to leave, only to find that I was unable to move. I screamed, but no sounds came out.

The living room door opened, and Gina entered. She passed me as though I weren’t there, and I realized that I was invisible. Terrified, I could do nothing but hope that this dream would soon end.

She was followed by Victor.

Then he spoke.

“Gina—I have something to say to you.”

“What?” she asked a little sharply.

“You’re the first I’m telling, because you seem to be the first to arrive home. Guess what.”

She smiled. “You’ve found an actual career now?”

Victor laughed. “Perhaps one day, but that wasn’t it. Guess again.”

“You’re going on a tour of some country, aren’t you?”

“No! I’ll give you a hint—it’s got to do with your sister.”

Gina frowned suddenly. “What has she gotten herself into now?”

“Gina, she’s not in trouble!” He grinned. “I’ll tell you then—she’s engaged!”

He leaned back triumphantly.

Gina jumped back as though she had been slapped. “Engaged—to you, Victor?”

Could he not sense the grief, the anger, the hatred in her voice? No, Victor could not. He seized her hands eagerly. “This morning! Did you expect it, Gina?”

“No,” she replied, looking at the floor. I saw a tear trickle down her cheek, but she wiped it away fiercely.

Victor was laughing. “Do you remember that day when Violet came to see you? I came into the parlor, and met the loveliest girl in the world—my very own wife! Oh, Gina! It’s the best day of my life! Oh, now I suppose you’re my sister too!”

She did not speak, and my heart filled with sorrow for her. Sour and sharp as Gina could be, she was experiencing the worst pain imaginable—rejection. At that moment, I sincerely loathed Victor for wounding her heart so deeply.

He rose and embraced her before skipping away. Gina smiled until he left, then sat lonely and wretched, trying to stifle her sobs in her hands. She wiped her eyes on her shirtsleeve and swallowed before looking up. Now I could see her face, and I gasped. Her eyes were glowing now, with a violent intensity.

She stepped out of the room, and my head began whirling again. I only saw a black swirl, and thought I was escaping this horrible dream. I was wrong: now I saw myself in Mr. Ryan’s laboratory, amid various cupboards, papers, and cages full of guinea pigs.

Gina, wearing a thick mask, hurried into the room and opened a cupboard. It was full of bottles with moist and ragged labels. She peered at several of these before selecting one, then opened one of the cages and let out a tiny guinea pig. Pouring a little of the bottle’s contents into a small dish on the counter, she let the animal lap up the liquid. About twenty minutes passed, during which she set some of Mr. Ryan’s papers in order, biting her lip and occasionally wiping away a bitter tear. I was watching her intently when I saw something horrible. The guinea pig, still on the counter, was flipping over and foaming at the mouth, struggling to breathe. I gasped.

Gina stood up and watched the animal convulse, then looked at the bottle and spoke for the first time. “It’s the right one then.”

She took the bottle and stepped out of the room.

The image spun wildly, and I could see it no more…I found myself back on my bed, panting hard.

As soon as I realized where I was, I raced to the door. Someone was in danger, and I needed to help. I drove to the Ryans’ house as fast as I could. Finding no one there, I hurried to the Larsons’.

But I was too late.

Neighbors were standing in a thick circle near the house. They were all talking anxiously as I approached.

“The younger one was rushed to hospital…”

“They don’t think she’ll survive…”

“It was so sudden…”

I hurried to a man and cried, “Where’s Violet?”

“She drank something that didn’t agree with her, and started having convulsions. They took her away in an ambulance about thirty minutes ago. The rest of her family’s gone there too.”

Without delay, I called Mrs. Larson. “How’s Violet? Is she okay now?” I begged.

Nothing but crying on the other end. Then she managed to say: “Violet’s dead.”

I don’t remember what I did that night. I think I told Avery and Janet, but I don’t know. I am only certain that I cried all the next day, and didn’t even leave my room.

My friends visited me that night.

“She died of cyanide poisoning,” said Janet softly, taking my hand. “It was too late to save her.”

I said nothing.

Avery added, “There’s more.”

“What?”

“Gina went to the police today and confessed to murdering Violet!”

“Oh…”

“She stole a bottle of Mr. Ryan’s prussic acid that he keeps for experiments. Then she poured it in Violet’s coffee. Almost immediately—like twenty minutes later, Violet started convulsing and went unconscious…”

“That’s awful.”

“Gina says it was because of that Victor.” Even now Avery could not say his name without disgust. “He told her yesterday that he was getting engaged to Violet, and she got jealous. She’d always believed that he loved her, and she was so upset, she wasn’t thinking…but then, when she saw what she had done, it actually got to her what a monster she was. She said she couldn’t believe it, that she had permanently destroyed her sister—it had felt so easy when she was trying out the poison on the guinea pigs, you know? Well, all morning Gina was really broken and miserable, and this afternoon she went to her mother and told her everything, then she went to the police.”

I wiped back a tear. “Where’s Victor?”

“He learned about everything this afternoon. He was out of town,” replied Janet. “He’s shut himself up in the house now.”

I almost told them about my dream, but then decided not to. What good would it do?

Chapter 4

Victor didn’t attend Violet’s funeral. Indeed,  I didn’t see him for another month. But it can’t be said that he didn’t grieve. He wore black clothes in faithful mourning.

I wished that he would feel at least a little guilty about Violet’s death. I mean, it wasn’t his fault. But what if he had just been a little less tactless about breaking the news to Gina? Or if he had gently turned away her affection instead of lightly rejecting it? I felt that Gina’s act had been at least partly his fault, and would have liked to see some remorse on his part.

But he didn’t seem to think he had any hand in her action. He grieved, and after a few months, took off his black clothes and returned to normal life, which for him consisted of walking the streets aimlessly, as Avery said. It was sad to see him walking alone, when at one point he had been laughing and chatting with Violet.

But as time went on, I thought a new girl was replacing the fading shadow…one that we knew very well. Janet.

I think she had loved Victor from the first day she saw him. Poor Janet! She had followed him about devotedly, but when he turned to Violet, she had simply cut off the flowers of her love without harming the root, and now that her friend was gone, it bloomed once more.

That’s not to say that Janet was any way happy about Violet’s death. But there came a time when she imagined that she had replaced Violet in Victor’s heart, and I was not exactly pleased.

Victor never said anything that implied that he saw her as much more than a friend. I sensed caution on his part, and devotion on Janet’s. I see now that he was feeling her out, trying to see if she could compare with his departed fiancee.

And she didn’t.

But she didn’t know that, and neither did we at the time. At first, he invited her to go on walks with him every Saturday afternoon. She agreed, and would always rush back to us to tell us everything he said.

Then we saw them on more walks–as many Janet’s job as a waitress would permit. (And yes, she was still a waitress, even after all these years. She never progressed in that career.) Shy little Janet would be clutching his hand eagerly, while Victor chatted with her, doing most of the talking. It wasn’t a pretty picture of an equal relationship–everyone could see that Janet was utterly dependent on Victor.

He didn’t need her, I knew. And eventually, I began to sense that he didn’t want her. He had surveyed and judged her; she wasn’t the person for him. Victor stopped inviting her for walks, and actually started staying at home. Anyone else would have taken the hint and left him alone, but Janet simply became more nervous, feeling that she had failed him somehow. For the next year, she tried to connect with him again, and I pitied them both as I saw with what reluctance he met her.

Avery and I were both disgusted at his selfish flirtation, and angered at his rather rude way of breaking off. But I wanted Janet happy most of all. I guess that was my error…

One day, she asked me for advice about why Victor seemed to be avoiding her.  My tips were not good at all , I see now. But it’s too late to change what I said.

“Maybe he’s tired of you because you never told him how much you mean to him,” I guessed.

She looked shocked. “What?”

“Janet, you need to be more confident. Tell him. He’s not going to ask you.”

“Tell him?”

“Janet, you’re too timid. If you love him, let him know. Say, this afternoon.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes,” I said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“I couldn’t live with it if he rejected me!”

Why did I not pause there? Why didn’t I hear those words?

“He won’t,” I replied. “Now calm down and go home. This afternoon when Victor visits, you should tell him everything.”

When Avery got home, I realized that something was wrong. Her face was red with anger.

“What did you tell Janet?” she demanded. “She’s told me that she intends to tell Victor ‘all about it.’ What have you done?”

“I told her to tell him about her feelings,” I faltered.

Avery flushed.

“Quincey, how could you? You want Janet to marry that selfish man? Look at what happened when Violet–when she died. He just moved on. He literally just ran away and came back when everything had cooled off. He avoided her funeral. And that was his fiancee! Do you really want that sort of person with Janet?”

“He’s not that bad,” I feebly responded. But as I thought about it, I realized that Avery was right. Victor was selfish. He didn’t care for the uncle he had promised to help, he didn’t join the family business as his father wished, and he lounged about most of his days rather than employing himself usefully. Victor was not the right fit for Janet.

But I was angry, for I felt Avery was simply jealous because Janet was preoccupied with Victor and no longer had time for us.

“What about you, Avery?” I snapped back. “What do you really have against Victor? If he makes Janet happy, leave him alone and mind your business!”

“Happy? Happy? She’s miserable! Victor is her only source of pleasure, of pride, of self-esteem. She’s going down a dangerous path–and it’s my business to see that she doesn’t!”

She stalked out of the apartment.

I stormed to my room, suddenly feeling  ill. I almost never quarreled with Avery, and I felt upset about what I had said to her. I thought I would rest, then apologize later.

Then it happened.

I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up, holding my head on my arm, and trying to stop the dizzy feeling. I couldn’t see anything, even though my eyes were open.

I could see again—but this time I wasn’t in the apartment bedroom anymore. Instead, I was in the Riches’ backyard, by the pool. I tried to move, only to find myself immobile. A sense of foreboding enveloped me, and I began to remember when last I had experienced this… Two people were sitting in beach chairs at the edge of the pool—Janet and Victor. He was doing all the talking, and Janet was staring pensively into the water. Sometimes she would try to speak, then shake her head and bite her lip.

Finally he stopped and began to rise. “It’s almost five o’ clock. I’d better go.”

“No–no, Victor, I want to—tell you something.” She continued to look at the pool.

“Oh?” He sat down.

“It’s that—” She shook her head.

“Don’t worry, you can always tell me.”

“You’ll listen?”

“You know I will, Janet.”

She took a deep breath, then faced him. Her face was eager, bright, hopeful.

“Victor, I love you!” she cried. “I have always admired you! I know I’m always failing, and I know most people would think I’m a hopeless case, but you’ve always encouraged me. Last summer, I realized I more than admired you—I loved you. But I didn’t know how to tell you my feelings until now.”

She waited for him to answer. Victor reached out and took her hand, and I saw her blush. But his next words made her turn white.

“Violet,” he said softly, “you have always been a friend to me, but nothing more. I never felt this way about you.”

She gasped. “But—I always thought…”

“No, no, Janet!”

“Then why else could you…all those times we’ve had, visiting each other’s families, having dinners together at our house, or that evening last year. You and I watched the sunset as I came home from work? Remember—you put your hand on mine and said, ‘Some things last forever.’” She was now crying, and Victor guiltily offered her a tissue. As she wiped her face, he tried to justify himself:

“Janet, I was never in love with you. You were always my friend, and when I was saying that—I wasn’t thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Janet…no...okay, I did like you at one point. But I realized very soon that I didn’t love you. When I marry, I want a woman who is…I don’t know, different, like Violet.” He stopped, then continued painfully, “There was something about her—something lively and strong—that I don’t find in you, Janet. No matter what I said last year, you must believe me—I don’t mean it anymore.”

She stared at him through a wave of tears. “So I’m a failure? I don’t measure up to your standards, or what?”

“You are still my friend, Janet,” he assured her. “But I don’t feel this way about you, so…”

They were still holding hands unconsciously as they spoke, and Victor noticed that. He gently pulled his hand away and stood up.

“I’m sorry, Janet. I really am.”

She said nothing, sobbing violently now.

“Do you—do you want me to call your mother?” he asked, backing away.

“Go away, please…”

He did so with a heavy step, and I was not sure whom I pitied more, him or Janet.

She was still there, staring into the water and crying hysterically. As he left, she finally wiped her face, got up, and began to pace the pavement distractedly. I became worried. What was Janet going to do?

She now stood at the edge of the pool, and I heard her talking to herself: “A failure…I don’t measure up…no, I never did. I was always a coward, and nobody wants me. Some things…some things last forever! No, Victor, you didn’t mean that!”

She looked at the pool. “Goodbye, then. You shan’t see your failure again—find someone better than me! Goodbye…”

The image spun wildly, and I could see it no more…I found myself back on my bed, panting hard.

I didn’t waste time. I called Janet immediately. When she didn’t pick up, I phoned Mrs. Rich.

“Hey Mrs. Rich, where’s Janet?”

“I haven’t seen her since dinner. She and Victor had some rice here, then went to the pool to talk. Let me see—no one’s at the pool, so Victor must have gone home. It’s possible that she went to bed early. I’ll go see.” A few minutes later, “She’s not there either.”

“You mean you can’t find her?”

“No.”

“Hang on, Mrs. Rich, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I drove down to the house as fast as I could.

I scrambled to the pool. The place looked slightly different. Two stones from the pavement were missing. I glanced at the empty beach chairs. There, on Janet’s seat, was a little piece of paper. I picked it up and read it in the waning light. It was a short note, only two words, in her handwriting.

Goodbye Victor!

And then I knew what she had done.

I do not properly remember what happened afterwards. There was a blur—police being called, people rushing about, Mrs. Rich crying and phoning her husband…then the body.

They dragged Janet’s body out of the pool. Around her waist were tied two stones from the pavement. I think, when I saw her pale, miserable face, I must have had to be taken inside, because I only recall lying on a carpet and sobbing.

Then maybe Avery came and talked to me—or maybe she didn’t. I drove home—or perhaps I got a ride from Mrs. Rich. I staggered into my kitchen, collapsed into a chair, and burst into tears once more.

Her funeral was held about ten days later. Mr. and Mrs. Rich, Avery and I, and our families all attended. Victor had also been invited, but he hadn’t shown up. Indeed, he hadn’t been seen since Janet’s death.

“Just like him,” said Avery, angrily wiping away a tear. “He would do that—break Janet’s heart and just run away like that!”

“Shhh,” I whispered. “Isn’t that him?”

A figure in black crept into the church and slipped into a back pew. I glanced at Avery, whose eyebrows were raised in disbelief. I moved to the end of the church to speak with him, and she reluctantly followed.

Victor was weeping violently, trying unsuccessfully to stifle his sobs in a tissue. I put a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe it,” he repeated over and over. “Janet. Janet.”

Avery sat beside him. “This is all your fault,” she said bitterly, looking him in the eye.

Unexpectedly, he nodded. “I know, Avery! I know you’ve always hated me, and you should, you really should. What a monster I am! Oh Janet, I’m so sorry!”

“Calm down, Victor,” I entreated. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, I’m  to blame! There was a time that I thought she would fill up the gap in my heart that Violet’s death had caused. I thought I loved her, but I was wrong. And I should have told her that instead of letting her continue to think that I had any feelings for her. I’ve always been a selfish pig–and it’s too late, it’s too late…”

This speech surprised both of us, and Avery looked at him almost respectfully.

“Victor, please,” I said, taking his hand.

I think something in the gesture made him remember holding hands with Janet on that night, and he turned away from me, and crumpled in his seat with a fresh fit of tears. I stepped back and began moving toward my seat. Once I turned around to see if Avery would follow me. She was still with Victor, and her arms were around him in an embrace.

Chapter 5

Afterwards there was a noticeable change in Victor. He suddenly moved out of his uncle’s house, telling Avery and me that he was going to go find a real job now.

He sent Avery and me an email every two weeks, and I was glad to hear that he was working as a clerk in his father’s business. He didn’t even live with his parents, though they had offered him lodging, but had taken a little apartment room.

As for visits, he came very rarely. I think Victor was too upset by what had happened to stand staying in Janet’s town. When he did come, he spent almost all the time caring for his uncle, and only talked to us in the evenings.

“He’s doing penance, poor guy,” I remarked one day as I looked through one of his emails. “He’s totally changed.”

“I’m glad of it,” responded Avery.

I glanced at her, surprised at her tone. She was looking vacantly at the floor, and shook her head softly, as though dismissing a thought.

I thought it strange that Victor seemed to depend on his former enemy for support and help. On his few visits, I would sometimes find him crying on Avery’s shoulder. She would hug him, talk to him, take his hand.. And she slowly led him to become more happy.

Months passed. I noticed that Avery seemed to get more emails from him than I did, and that Victor visited more often. At times Avery would call on him briefly, or they would meet halfway at some restaurant. And I realized that my stern, focused friend was beginning to fall in love.

She never said so; Avery was a practical, sensible woman. But I saw it in the way she smiled, in the way she picked up the phone when Victor called, in the way she lit up at the mention of his name.

Victor came for another visit. By now he came every other weekend, and he and Avery would go out walking or eat at the apartment on Saturday evenings. This time, though, he asked her to come with him to his uncle’s house where he was staying.

I felt a bit sad that I wasn’t invited, but I decided that I might as well just head to bed anyway. When the two had walked off, I got ready to sleep.

But…

I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up, holding my head on my arm, and trying to stop the dizzy feeling. I couldn’t see anything, even though my eyes were open.

This has happened many times…

I saw myself in the Riches’ backyard. I didn’t even try to move; I knew that I was once more an invisible witness. This time, though, I didn’t feel upset, only curious.

Victor was seated on the garden bench, and Avery was just coming into the garden. He smiled and beckoned her closer.

“Avery, I want to ask you something important,” he said gravely.

She sat beside him, and he took her hand.

“Now I’m going to give a speech, and you mustn’t interrupt, because I spent hours writing it and I need to say it.”

She nodded.

His voice changed. He brought out from his pocket a rumpled piece of paper on which were many lines, some covered in a sea of gray eraser marks. “I’ve always known that my greatest fault is selfishness,” he began, “I have never been even half as good as you–.”

“Oh, Victor, don’t be silly!” exclaimed Avery. “Stop reading this nonsense and tell me what you were going to say.”

“Avery, please, just listen—”

“Make it snappy,” she laughed.

“Well,” he continued, clearly speaking now from his heart, “because of this fault I never married. I messed up…I fell in love, but…they…the other two…no, never mind. I can’t speak about them.” He looked away briefly, then turned to face her. “I believe that there is hope for me, don’t you? I still—when I saw you, Avery, from day one, we didn’t like each other. But now I’ve changed—Avery, may ask you—may I tell you—oh….”

“I will, Victor,” she responded softly, squeezing his hand. “I think I can love you…”

He was startled. “Love me? I haven’t proposed yet!”

“Well, what else were you going to say after that windy introduction?”

“You have a point,” he laughed.

They threw their arms around each other.

The image spun wildly, and I could see it no more…I found myself back on my bed, panting hard. Unsure what to do, I sat turning over the scene in my head. True, it was one of joy and not pain. But it was still…somehow strange…

I heard the door open in the hall, and I realized that Avery had come home. She burst into the bedroom and leapt onto her bed.

“You’ll never guess what!” she cried, jumping up and embracing me.

I knew what she was going to say, but shook my head.

“I’m…engaged!”

I said something very nice, I’m sure, but I don’t remember what.

“Guess who?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Victor Ryan!”

Chapter 6

I was forty-four years old. Seventeen or so years had passed. Avery and Victor were married, with one child, Lisa. As for myself, I had never married. Little had changed for me. I had opened my own store, become richer, and moved to a small bungalow, but I did not feel any happier. The strange dreams had stopped thankfully, but I never got over losing two of my best friends. But at least I now had a new one–Lisa Ryan.

Lisa was a young woman now sixteen years old. Her eyes were bright green gems, but she had inherited her father’s dark hair. She called me “Aunt Quincey,” and

Today, it all happened. It was Saturday. I arrived at the house for lunch, and ate with Avery. Her husband had gone out, she apologized, and Lisa was rushing to finish an English project due on Monday.

“What sort of project?” I asked.

“I don’t remember. When we’re done, I’ll clear up the plates, and you can go chat with her. It’s been awfully quiet all morning, so I guess she’s been too absorbed to hear you come.”

Accordingly I mounted the stairs and opened Lisa’s bedroom door. The girl lay sprawled on her bed, doing something on her phone. She didn’t even hear me enter.

“Lisa, what are you doing?” I asked.

She glanced up at me, then her face brightened. “Aunt Quincey! Hey, sit down!” She pulled herself up so that there was space for both of us.

I plopped beside her and looked over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I meant to do the English assignment, but I got so distracted! It’s so boring, and this looked so fun.”

“What is it?” I repeated, laughing.

She tilted the screen toward me, and I saw that she was taking a quiz. “That’s it? A quiz has taken you all morning?” I asked incredulously.

“It’s a long one, Aunt Quincey,” she replied. “It takes a lot of questions to determine your Shakespearean fate.”

I jerked back, and I felt my heart skip. “What?”

“It’s a quiz about Shakespearean fates, and it’ll tell you which is yours. It’s so funny, I’ve been hooked on it all morning. I’m nearly done.”

“From Katherine’s wedding…to Hamlet’s sword…” I murmured in horror.

Lisa glanced at me in surprise. “Why, that’s exactly what it says.”

I couldn't hear what she said next, because once more…

I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up, holding my head on my arm, and trying to stop the dizzy feeling. I couldn’t see anything, even though my eyes were open.

This time I saw myself…and Violet…and Janet…and Avery, all young people again, sitting on our phones, looking at that quiz. And a chill passed over me as I realized something…

Violet. “Answers indicate: You share a fate with Regan from King Lear.” The woman poisoned by her cruel sister Goneril…over rivalry in love. A thought struck me. Could Gina have been Goneril, and Victor Ryan have played Edmund? But my best friend…poisoned because of a quiz she took years ago? That seemed impossible.

But then there was Janet…Ophelia, I remembered suddenly. What? No…no! The dependent, unhappy girl who had drowned herself when Hamlet deserted her! Victor played Hamlet…and Janet too fit into her tragic role!

Avery, she was Beatrice! And what did she do? Married…an unlikely man. Well, Victor had been a self-centered young man until Janet’s death. He had treated her lightly, maybe…was it a stretch to call him Benedick? Then he and Avery, who had once disliked him, married…what, no! Impossible! How could their futures have been tied to this mysterious quiz!

As for myself…I alone had not taken the quiz. But I had been having these dreams…why?

To warn others…

That was the last complete thought I had before–

The image spun wildly, and I could see it no more…I found myself back on the bed, panting hard. Lisa was shaking me desperately. “Aunt Quincey, please! Did you black out or something?” she was begging.

I sat up and seized her hand. “Lisa, hand me that phone.”

“Aunt Quincey, what’s wrong?”

“Lisa, I need to warn you! This quiz began with me, and it’ll end with me too!”

“Aunt Quincey?” She stared at me, looking horrified.

“I won’t let you, Lisa! This has ruined enough people!”

“Stop it!” she said, pulling at the phone.

But I took it away. I looked down at the screen–she was at the fatal “SEE RESULTS” page.

“Why, Aunt Quincey?” demanded Lisa, a tear coursing down her cheek. “What’s gotten into you?”

I looked into her eyes, and I knew this wasn’t her fault. She was just like me, in need of a deep explanation.

“I’m going to ask you,” I responded carefully, “to never take this quiz. And I will tell you why soon. In fact, when I get home, I’ll write it out for you–to make it easy.”

She nodded, and I knew she would listen to me.

So that’s why I’m writing this, not just for Lisa, but for anyone who would be stopped from destroying themselves. I sat down and wrote it as a story, and as I worked on it, the memories so long forgotten were unleashed, and I poured them into this tale. Now that the reader has finished it, I’m sure he or she will avoid such quizzes. I certainly hope so.