The Good House

by Tananarive Due

  Corey laid the medal between the two bowls. He cleared his throat to speak. “Gran Bwa, Madame Lalinn…St. Anthony…please hear me tonight and return what we have lost. Please give me my mother’s ring, and please give Sean his mother’s letter.”

  “And the picture,” Sean whispered, and Corey was too rapt in the ceremony and the fire’s frolicking flames to be annoyed at Sean’s intrusion.

  The last item in his duffel bag was a sealed plastic container of chicken hearts he’d bought at Downtown Foods, still cold from Sean’s refrigerator. He lifted the lid slightly and poured bloody water into the soil beside the two bowls and the St. Anthony medal. It splattered in red droplets into the earth, into a pattern that reminded him of a pinwheel. “Please accept this blood sacrifice,” Corey said. “Sorry it’s not a real chicken.”

  Sean’s watch beeped. Midnight. The fire dimmed, or seemed to.

  “Is that it?” Sean said, after a time.

  Corey blinked. Aside from the earlier sensation that someone might be watching them, he hadn’t felt a thing. “I think so,” he said. “I’m not sure. Let’s look around.”

  They turned their flashlights on, searching the ground. Nothing had changed or moved. Each item was where he had placed it.

  “Do we get the stuff back right away?” Sean said.

  Corey scanned Gramma Marie’s page, looking for her instructions for The Lost beyond the drops of chicken blood. She didn’t mention anything about how long it would take. He sighed, frustrated. “I don’t know. Maybe something’s messed up.”

  He shouldn’t have done the spells out of order, that was it. He should have done the cleansing spells first, to try to banish the evil spirit Gramma Marie had written about, if there was any such thing. Why was everything so complicated? Why couldn’t he just make a simple trick work? Corey suddenly felt silly, irritable, and tired. What had he expected? If there was real magic in the world, he would have seen evidence of it by now. It would be on CNN.

  He poured out the water in the bowls, dousing half of the fire. Darkness fell over them as they lost some of their light, but the fire struggled to live.

  “Man, let’s roll,” Corey said to Sean. “I don’t think it worked.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait to see?”

  “We’ll come back in the morning. We can’t stay here all night.”

  Sean started to argue, but they both went tomb silent when they heard the sound from the woods, high-pitched and maniacal. If Corey had felt any sensation in his legs or anywhere else, he would have run. Both bowls fell from his hands, one shattering on a large stone near the fire-pit. Sean crouched, pointing his flashlight toward the woods, as wild-eyed as he’d looked when he wanted to lunge at Bo Cryer.

  “Who’s there?”

  Corey was impressed by the command in Sean’s voice, until he realized the voice had been his. He was also surprised to realize he’d picked up the stone nearest to him, ready to throw it at the first thing that moved. He grabbed the walking stick, too, gripping it hard, another weapon.

  The sound was laughter, he realized. The laughter was closer to them, bizarre and childish, but so loud it seemed barely human. Corey heard leaves crunch in the woods under footfall, someone running toward them. The fear Corey had felt with Bo at Pizza Jack’s a few hours ago had gotten his heart pumping, but the fear he felt now sat in his stomach like a block of ice. He was no longer Corey Toussaint Hill, high school sophomore, about to turn sixteen in the fall; he was one faceless creature being hunted by another.

  Sean yelled out, and Corey spun to look at him. He saw a crystal-clear image in his mind of something dragging Sean into the fire.“Holy sh—”

  What Corey really saw, though, was a girl. A tall teenage white girl had dashed out of the woods toward them, her long pale dress flying behind her, and the sudden sight of her had so shocked Sean that he’d lost his balance and fallen too close to the fire-pit. Sean backed away from the heat, rubbing his singed palms on his chest while he gaped at the girl.

  She was barefoot, about sixteen. Her hair was in two neat blond pigtails, one flapping on each side of her head, and for a moment Corey thought it was the same girl he’d seen at Pizza Jack’s, the one Bo had lost his mind over. But no, she was taller than that girl, and her frame was smaller. She was wearing a light blue dress with puffy short sleeves that struck him as old-fashioned, and although it was a neat dress, he noticed it was frayed at the hem, almost worn to rags. It was late June, but tonight’s temperature was only about sixty degrees. Wasn’t she cold?

  “You should see the look on your faces!” the girl said, doubling over as she laughed.

  Corey lowered his rock, but he didn’t drop it. “Who are you?” he said.

  She didn’t answer, still consumed in her laughter. She plopped down onto the ground cross-legged beside what was left of the fire. She didn’t pull her dress down over her knees to be modest, so Corey found himself staring at the yawning shadow between her unshaven pale legs.

  “Papa Legba, hear my prayer!” the girl cried, mocking, and she fell to her side, laughing.

  Corey and Sean looked at each other. Now that he realized his worst nightmare hadn’t just come screaming to life, Sean was smiling a little. Seeing Sean smile, Corey smiled, too. He stared down at the items at his feet—the broken bowl, the St. Anthony medal, the crossed chicken bones. He had to laugh, too. A little.

  “Yeah, okay, so it sounds funny,” Corey said to the girl. “You shouldn’t sneak up like that, though. I was about to nail you with this rock.”

  “You couldn’t hit the broad side of an elephant with that rock,” the girl said, grinning.

  The smile did it. For the first time, Corey noticed how pretty she was. Her teeth were as white as the teeth of the actors who sometimes came to Mom’s parties in L.A., polished and scrubbed. Her cheekbones, in the firelight, looked like a wood carving. She wasn’t as cute as Vonetta at home, mostly because she didn’t have Vonetta’s lips, but she wasn’t bad.

  “What are you doing out here alone in the middle of the night?” Sean said.

  The girl gathered up the folds of her dress and squatted by the fire, balancing on the balls of her bare feet. “Watching my entertainment,” she said. “Watching you two act like fools.”

  Corey replaced the page in Gramma Marie’s satchel. He didn’t want this nutty girl to see his spells, no matter how pretty she was. “First of all, it’s none of your business,” Corey said.

  Intrigued, the girl shot up to her feet. She walked closer to Corey, until she was standing in front of him and he could see her eyes, almost luminescent in the firelight. Were they gray or blue? There was a quarter-moon birthmark high on her right cheek, and she was at least two inches taller than him. “Did he answer?” the girl said.

  “Who?”

  “Papa Legba. When you called him, did he answer?” Her deep gaze unnerved him.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  She smiled a teasing smile, then shook her head slowly back and forth. “Sorry…,” she said in a singsong voice, her eyes knowing things she shouldn’t. “Papa Legba isn’t here. I’m the only one here tonight.” She bumped herself against him, and her loose breasts sank into his chest. They felt like soft, warm pillows against him, welcoming.

  Corey backed up, startled. The girl laughed again, and he felt blood rush to his face.

  The heat from her body drew him, nearly held him in place, and Corey felt his groin growing heavy, twitching with arousal. There were girls like this at his school, who came on to any guy who passed their way. And this girl might be homeless, the way she was dressed, not wearing any shoes. She could use a bath, too. She didn’t smell clean.

  “Where do you live?” Corey said.

  “Around,” the girl said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Becka,” she said.

  “My name’s Sean,” Sean said quickly, probably feeling left out.

  Becka gave Sean a quick glance over her shoulder and s
hrugged at him. “You’re not the one I want to talk to,” she said to Sean.

  Ouch. That was cold, Corey thought.

  “You don’t live here in the woods, do you?” Corey said.

  Becka shrugged again. Her eyes were back on his, that infinite gaze. “Why don’t you send your friend home and stay with me tonight?” she said. “I’ll show you where I live.”

  Sean sighed, obviously expecting Corey to leave him. But Corey shook his head. Despite a growing boner that felt like a foot-long iron club as Becka inched closer to him, the situation struck him as wrong. He touched her hair, feathery and light. He could honest-to-God get laid tonight, he realized. But he didn’t want to, not like this. She smelled wrong.

  “Nah,” he said, before he could talk himself out of his decision.

  “Why not?” she said.

  “Don’t you even want to know my name?” Corey said.

  “I know your name.”

  “What?”

  “Toussaint,” she whispered, saying the name like it was treasure. His neck thrilled.

  “I go by my first name,” he said. “Corey.”

  “Stay with me tonight, Corey. I’ll teach you real magic.”

  “Corey?” Sean said, sounding nervous. “We better head back.”

  Becka’s index finger poked Corey in the chest, and she let it trail downward, toward his navel. Corey’s stomach fluttered violently, and he grabbed her hand. Once her hand got below his belt, his brain would shut down and he’d stay out here tonight whether he wanted to or not. Already, anticipating her touch, his dick was swelling in a way he couldn’t remember, on a mission. His jeans felt confining, painful.

  “My friend’s right,” Corey said, too embarrassed to adjust himself in front of the girl. “Listen, you’re really pretty, but we have to go. Maybe I could see you some other time?”

  The smile never left the girl’s face. “Why not?” she said. She backed up one step, two, then she waved and turned on her heel. She was running back toward the woods, into the dark.

  “How can I get back in touch with you?” Corey called after her.

  “Say my name,” she said.

  “Are you sure you’re okay out here?” Corey called again. But the girl didn’t answer. Corey watched her retreat until she was out of the firelight, and then she was gone, with only the sound of her feet in the leaves and twigs in the darkness, running.

  “What the hell wasthat about?” Sean said quietly, at Corey’s side. They both watched the woods to see if she would come back, but she didn’t. Her brief appearance felt dreamy to him. If Sean weren’t here, Corey might have believed he’d imagined her.

  “I don’t know,” Corey said. His heart was thrashing. He shifted himself so his jeans wouldn’t pinch. Then, he slapped his rigid biceps when he felt a mosquito bite his arm.

  “That’s the weirdest girl I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’re just jealous,” Corey joked, then he patted Sean’s shoulder. “No, man, I know what you mean. She looks homeless to me. I don’t think anybody lives back there. I thought that was just woods.”

  “We should report her.”

  “I guess we could, but she won’t get found unless she wants to be.”

  “You’re not going to sleep with her, are you?” Sean’s question was a judgment.

  “Nah,” Corey said, although he wasn’t sure. If shewasn’t homeless, that was different. She might be a little weird, but she was cute as hell. There were worse ways to lose his virginity.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Sean said. “Remember Glenn Close inFatal Attraction . When girls you don’t know are that eager, watch out. There’s a catch. What’s up with the way she showed up as soon as you finished that spell? I don’t like it. I say we get back home.”

  Now that Sean had put it that way, Corey realized he was right. Itwas weird, all around.

  But he was sorry he’d sent Becka away.

  Corey’s dream about Becka began the same way she had appeared at midnight, crouching by the fire in her dress, her legs teased open, daring.

  But in the dream, Sean wasn’t there. Corey was alone with her.

  Her eyes heavy-lidded with promises, Becka took Corey’s hand and pulled him out of the firelight, into the woods. She walked quickly, knowing her way, pulling him past his blind spots as they ventured deeper into the parts of his mother’s property he didn’t know. He saw a log cabin covered in moss with a dim light glowing from the open door, blending so well into the woods around it that he’d never have seen the low-roofed structure without the light.

  Good, he thought. Sheisn’t homeless. “Who lives here with you?” Corey asked her.

  “No one else lives here,” she said. “Just me.”

  There was no furniture inside the cabin, and no windows, like a cave, but the entire floor was covered by an enormous bearskin rug. Vaguely, Corey wondered where the hazy yellow light inside the cabin was coming from, because he couldn’t see a lamp or a burning candle. The cabin also had a sour smell, the same smell he’d noticed when he’d met her, but he forgot to be bothered by it when Becka closed the cabin door and pulled her dress over her head. Her raised nipples were bright pink, her areolas staring at him like wide eyes. Corey gawked, riveted. He had never been this close to a naked girl. Without a word, she began pulling off his shirt. Then, she yanked on his pants and slowly slipped them down, too. When he was naked, she pulled him until they were lying together on the rug’s rough fur. She clung to him, a garment of soft, warm skin.

  Becka sat astride him, her bare breasts bobbing as she squatted. When Corey sank inside her, the shock of the pleasure made him spasm, curling at the waist. He hadn’t expected her insides to be so fevered, or her grasp to be so tight. His mouth opened wide without a word, his eyes closed.

  Shit,he thought. His loins wanted to burst, but he couldn’t yet. He didn’t want her to know he’d never had sex before.

  In the dream, Corey opened his eyes and realized his raised head was directly beside the dead bear’s, those sharp, yellowed teeth as close to his nose as Sheba’s hoof had been. Big teeth. So big, in fact, that Corey realized this rug wasn’t from a bear. Its head was bigger and narrower than a bear’s, its teeth longer, thinner, and curving more sharply. Like Bigfoot, he thought, if there was any such thing. Bigger than that. The creature’s carpet of fur covered the cabin’s floor, with extra pelt climbing up the walls. No animal could be that big! While he lay naked with his back against the thick fur, Corey felt something wriggle beneath the dead beast, jostling against his shoulder blades.

  Waking.

  With a gasp, Corey woke up.

  He was in a sleeping bag on the floor in Sean’s overcrowded room. His heartbeat alone might have ended his dream, because it was raucous in his chest. There was a faint glow through the window, although the sky was almost dark. It was fiveA.M ., Sean’s clock radio said on his desk. He could smell Sean’s shoes somewhere near his nose. The sour smell in his dream, he realized.

  Corey was so hard, his testicles felt swollen, sore. Damn. A second ago, he’d been having the most realistic dream sex of his life, and now it was gone. Why did that damn bear-thing have to show up and ruin it? Already, Corey had forgotten the image of the creature’s face, but he knew how it had made himfeel, especially when it moved. It had scared him awake.

  That scare might have been part of his dream, but Corey’s blue balls were real. Corey squirmed in the sleeping bag.Blue balls was the wrong term for it, he decided; they should call itred balls, because he was burning up. This was worse than when he’d necked with T.’s eighteen-year-old cousin from Detroit last Christmas, who’d shocked him when she let her hand rest on his crotch, squeezing. Her boyfriend had been in the next room playing hoops on PlayStation 2 with T., so the touch had been a game to her—but to Corey it had been a revelation, one of the most memorable things that had ever happened to him. Later, T. told him his cousin was always coming on to him, too, even though they were blood kin. That girl
in the woods might be a freak, too, but she had wanted him for real. All he’d had to say was yes.

  What if he went back to The Spot right now? Would he find her there?

  Corey glanced up at the bed, where Sean was snoring, his arms crossed over his eyes. As wakefulness sharpened Corey’s memory, he recalled the way the girl’s hair had felt, and the primal, unbathed smell of her skin. The thought of her loose breasts pressing against him nearly made Corey moan. He could probably sneak out to The Spot and come back before Sean woke up. Sean was too uptight, and he wouldn’t have to know.