by Chase Connor
“At least I’ve aged well.” Carlita shrugged sweetly.
Esther Jean glowered at her.
“Meanness does nothing for the complexion, my dear.” Carlita reached out as if to touch Esther Jean’s cheek.
Her hand was slapped away sharply. Carlita shrugged again and crossed her arms over her chest once more.
“Look here.” Esther Jean snarled, her finger jabbing at Carlita’s face again. “I did what I was supposed to do. He left. It ain’t my fault he came back. I acted put out just enough to not let on, but I never forced him to come back here. But even when he came back, I did all I could to confuse him, to make him think he was crazy, to scare him, to make him hate me. I pushed him and Lucas together again like we planned. I set him up on a date with a goddamn werewolf.”
“I told him that werewolf was nothing more than a harmless pervert so he’d go on the date,” Carlita interjected, unhappy with not getting her share of the credit.
“And I set up the whole scene the day after with Andrew. Hell,” Esther Jean Wagner ignored her, “I had his ass jumpin’ in the damn freezing lake to save a ghost. We got the werewolves after him—got assface over there to send three wolves out to the house to scare him. Even lured his ass outside in the middle of the night to be scared.”
“You got Katie killed.” Jason spat angrily before realizing who he was growling at, then corrected himself and calmed down.
“I got him interested in the cellar.” Esther Jean Wagner continued. “I drew him down into that cellar over and over. I got him to jump in that damn well. Got more of assface’s wolves to attack him and Lucas out on the Maumee after you sent ‘em out there to retrieve Lucas’ memories. Did better acting in these last few weeks than he ever did out in Hollywood. I gave him even more fake memories. I’ve lied my tail off and used every trick in my damn bag to get him to leave again. It ain’t my damn fault he’s made of sturdier shit than every other damn witch before him, is it? What kind of fuckin’ moron—no matter how powerful—sticks around through all of that?”
“One who’s in love.”
“Oh, blow me.” Esther Jean waved Carlita off. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard in my whole fuckin’ life—and that’s a long damn time. The bar is pretty fuckin’ high.”
Carlita chuckled. “I’ll miss this.”
“Yeah.” Esther Jean shrugged. “Me, too. But it ain’t my fault my magics wasn’t strong enough for him not to see through, damnit. By mornin’, he’ll remember everything—even if I don’t help him. And it won’t be the shit we want him to think he remembers, either. Then we’ll really be fucked, won’t we?”
“What about Lucas?” Carlita asked, chewing at her lip thoughtfully.
“He ain’t strong enough to see through shit. Not yet. Probably that damn vegetarian diet.” Esther Jean sighed. “But Rob will help him.”
“Lucas ain’t meat starved. He’s inexperienced.” Carlita rolled her eyes. “And Rob will help him because he loves him.”
Esther Jean threw her hands in the air.
“I didn’t expect that to be real, all right?” She bellowed. Wolves cowered. “Who knew that’s the magic they’d choose not to see through?”
“Sometimes, first love sticks.”
“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“You may be powerful, Esther Jean,” Carlita said. “But even you don’t know everything. Maybe Rob and Lucas really were in love when they were kids. They weren’t just going through the motions as most kids do. Your fake memories couldn’t change true love.”
Again, Esther Jean’s hands were thrown in the air.
“No bother.” Carlita waved her off. “Things will still go as they are supposed to go.”
Esther Jean shook her head, a concerned look on her face.
“He may be strong, Carlita.” She said. “But he ain’t ready. Maybe if he’d stayed gone another ten years…but he’ll do what he’s supposed to do…because he’s a good boy…but he ain’t strong enough to stop him. This time, we ain’t winnin’.”
“Do we ever?” Carlita asked. “Really?”
“Well, no.”
“Then,” Carlita sighed, “this time will be no different.”
“I suppose not.” Esther Jean said with finality. “Our plans have gone to shit, damnit.”
Carlita stepped back, as though ending their meeting, but her eyes landed on Esther Jean’s once again.
“What?” Esther Jean snapped.
“It’s a shame, really.”
“An apocalypse is always a shame.”
“No.” Carlita shook her head. “You actually loved this one. He was special, wasn’t he?”
Esther Jean just stared back at Carlita.
“I think you might have even believed he would end all of us.” She added. “Eventually. If he had just stayed away long enough to mature more.”
“Well,” Esther Jean replied evenly, her eyes boring into Carlita’s, “we’ll never know now, will we?”
For several moments, Carlita and Esther Jean stared at each other, and a pack of confused werewolves cowered in the periphery. Finally, with an air of finality, Carlita shrugged.
“There’s still time.”
“Hours.” Esther Jean scoffed. “We got hours.”
“Rob will know sacrifice,” Carlita said simply. “But maybe he won’t be alone in that this time. Unlike you, I’m an oracle. I know when there’s reason to hope.”
Esther Jean didn’t have a chance to respond. Carlita simply disappeared into the shadows, a plume of dust billowing into the air where she once stood. Esther Jean shook her head at the now empty spot that Carlita had once occupied. Sacrifice. Yes. Rob would know sacrifice. Just like every other witch before him, reaching back to the dawn of human existence. There was no way around that fact. Sighing to herself, Esther Jean turned on her heels to stride away from whence she came, the pack of wolves catching her eye.
“Well?” She snapped at them, making them all shiver. “Scat, ya’ assholes! Go mark your territory or some shit! Tell your master I said to go fuck himself!”
Each wolf let out a yelp, as though having been kicked in the behind, then they all scattered, disappearing into the dark. They were not nearly as dramatic or graceful as the oracle had been. Esther Jean stood there in the now empty parking lot, the chilly early Spring breeze forcing her to wrap her arms around herself as she looked up at the orange moon. The ground had stopped shaking, but she knew that didn’t mean anything had changed.
“Why’d ya’ have to take Lucas with ya’, ya’ damn fool?” She said to no one. “You would-a got out of here if you hadn’t.”
With a grumble and a “clop-clop” sound from her gardening clogs, she stomped back in the direction from which she came.
Chapter 2
Nelda Hammersmith wore glasses when I first arrived in Hollywood. Big spectacles that made her eyes look like they were staring out at me from behind fish bowls. Even then, as we had our first meeting, I knew that she didn’t need the glasses. Mrs. Hammersmith, agent to some of the biggest and brightest stars in the universe that was Hollywood, liked to make statements. Sometimes those statements simply announced what an odd duck she was, but they were statements nonetheless. As I remember it, I don’t recall how I found my way to Nelda’s office in the heart of Los Angeles. I didn’t remember much of my trip from Ohio to California. In fact, I couldn’t even remember if I took a plane or rode in a car…I just knew that I had decided to leave Point Worth for Hollywood, and that was all there was to it.
Then I was in Nelda Hammersmith’s office, telling her I wanted to be a star.
At first glance, she simply sniffed at me, appalled that some kid off of the street would be so brazen as to demand anything of an agent of her caliber. Seconds later, a cloud seemed to pass over Nelda’s face…and then I was suddenly being proclaimed the Hot New Thing she had been waiting to discover.
You don’t have anywhere to live in L.A.?
You
can stay with me!
You’re not old enough?
We’ll lie!
Make up a backstory!
Change your name!
Suddenly, I was Nelda Hammersmith’s new best friend who was going to help her become even richer—and hopefully, myself along the way. Even when she said my scene reads weren’t all that great or my voice wasn’t stellar, she looked hungry.
I had “IT.”
That intangible, elusive thing that the biggest stars always possessed.
Nelda Hammersmith told me that if I “stuck with her,” there wasn’t anything I couldn’t achieve in show business.
So…I stuck with her.
The Rolling Stones were playing on the radio when I was suddenly jolted awake in the passenger seat of my car. Lucas had obviously hit a pothole or speedbump because I was jostled in my seat, and my eyes flew open as the seatbelt bit into my chest. As one does in such situations, after the evening—and I guess proceeding weeks—we had endured, I looked around frantically, expecting an attack of some kind. Had Jason and his wolves caught up to us in their trucks, and were they now attempting to run us off the road? They were all dumbass country boys with pickup trucks, so I didn’t feel that it was beyond them to attempt to spin us out, roleplaying their favorite NASCAR fantasies. They probably even had a wad of dip in their protruded lips with Gatorade bottles full of dip spit snuggled securely between their thighs as they slammed into my much smaller car. Or worse, cups filled with spit-soaked paper towels tucked between their legs. My mind raced, wondering if we had become complacent and hadn’t expected them to come after us. I had fallen asleep so suddenly as Lucas drove that it was apparent I had let my guard down. A person who had gone through the day I just had would have to be stupid to just fall asleep and expect to be safe while they slumbered.
Of course, I had never claimed to be smart.
Lucas chuckled, though it was tense and slightly higher in pitch than normal as he glanced over at my worried expression and the crazy whipping around of my head as I looked all around. In my frenzy, it took a moment for me to realize that he was simply driving us east on the dark and deserted highway 2 towards Cleveland. We had just needed to get out of Point Worth and get to Hopkins airport so that we could fly to Los Angeles. Put as many miles between us and our former lives as we could, as quickly as we could. Of course, I didn’t know how long I had been asleep or what had jostled me awake, so I had no idea how close to Cleveland we were when I awoke. Cleveland is no Los Angeles, but it is big enough that if we were nearby, I would at least see the lights in the distance. But the road and horizon ahead of us were dark.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Lucas managed to mumble.
“Did you hit something?” I turned to him, trying to calm myself down. “I felt a bump.”
“Must’ve been a big bump.”
More nervous chuckling.
“So…you did hit something?”
“No.” He turned his head to glance at me briefly, a worried expression chasing away the brief look of amusement. “You just startled awake, Rob. I didn’t hit anything. You must have been having a bad dream.”
“How long was I asleep?” I frowned to myself as my fingers found their way through my hair, pushing it off of my forehead.
“Um,” Lucas frowned, “I don’t remember when you fell asleep. But I’ve been driving for, like, maybe an hour?”
Turning my head briefly to glance out of the windshield, I looked out at the road before us. My eyes darted to either side of the road, taking in nothing but darkness around us.
“We should be getting kind of close to Cleveland,” I said as I turned back to Lucas. “Right?”
“Right.” He gave me a firm nod as his eyes stared out at the road before us. “We’ll go straight to Hopkins, babe.”
“Two one-way tickets.” I smiled at him, but there was an uneasiness in my gut.
“We’ll be in L.A. before the sun peeks over the ocean.” He smiled happily as he steered.
“Maybe.” I chuckled, trying to remind myself that we were safe. “I don’t know when the next direct flight to L.A. is.”
“Take anything.” His eyes darted over to me nervously, though he tried to keep his focus on the darkness ahead of us. “I don’t care if there are layovers or stops or anything.”
“You’re nervous.” I reached over and laid my hand on his thigh, letting my fingers give him a reassuring squeeze. “I am, too.”
“I—Rob, I just want out of this state. Ever since we drove out of Point Worth, I’ve wanted to throw up. I know if we can put some miles between us and that town, I’ll feel better.”
“I know what you mean.” I nodded slowly, patting his leg. “Do you want to pull over and let me drive the rest of the way? So you can relax?”
“I’m not stopping this car unless it’s in a parking spot at Hopkins.” He chuckled, though he seemed less nervous.
“All right.”
We sat in silence, my hand laid on his thigh as Lucas drove us down highway 2, trying to put further distance between us and our hometown.
“Hey,” Lucas grumbled. “Talk to me. Give me something to think about besides…everything else.”
“You know,” I began, “we could live really close to the ocean. We could get a place in Malibu or something, where we could step right out of our backdoor and…boom…ocean.”
“That would be nice.” He sighed dreamily.
“We could sit on our deck or in our backyard, sipping wine, snuggled up, listening to the ocean. Smelling and tasting the salt in the air. Watch the sunrise and sunset every day. Maybe we will get a dog.”
Lucas was smiling widely out at the road before us, though I was worried his eyes were focused on something only he could see.
“Cook dinners together and read on the sofa with our new dog draped over our laps, and—”
“Big dog, eh?”
“You want a Pomeranian?”
“I like all dogs.”
“Well, you can decide which dog we will adopt.” I smiled at him. “And then we’ll go upstairs when it’s bedtime, lock the dog out of the bedroom, and do disrespectful things to each other. Every. Single. Night.”
Lucas’ smile was even brighter.
“After the disrespecting, we can let the dog in, though, right?” His eyes practically twinkled at the thought. “We don’t want him to have to sleep alone.”
“What do you have against girl dogs?” I teased.
“Him or her. Either or.”
“Yes. He or she could still sleep with us once the disrespectful behavior is over, babe.”
Lucas sighed happily.
“I love our life in L.A. already.”
“I do, too.” I squeezed his thigh. “Are you okay now?”
“Better.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“It’ll take time.” He replied. “But, yeah. I just…I mean…Point Worth is my home, Rob. Grandpa will—I’m going to miss some people. That’s all.”
“You can always call him when we get to L.A. He can come visit us.”
“What about Mrs. Wagner?”
“No.” I slid my hand from his thigh.
Lucas glanced over at me, nervously.
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I shook my head.
“Babe…”
“She’s not my grandmother, Lucas,” I stated a little more sharply than I had intended. “I don’t know how I know that…but I know it.”
“How can you know something but not know how you know it?” He asked gently, obviously not wanting to fight, but also wanting answers he had a right to hear. “I mean, that’s weird, right?”
“I guess.”
“Rob, you forget that we have some of the same memories. If Mrs. Wagner wasn’t your grandmother, don’t you think that would be scratching around in my mind, too? I have no reason to think she’s not, babe. That’s weird, too, right?”
“Well, yes.
” I agreed. “I think maybe I’ll figure things out once we have some time and distance between Point Worth and us.”
“Why?”
“Lucas,” I was chewing at my lip, “things haven’t been right in my head, memory-wise, since I came back to that fucking shithole town. I thought I knew what my previous life was like, then I realized our memories were…I don’t know? Fucked up?”
“But we have our memories back.”
“Yeah. I mean. Yeah. We do.”
Lucas gave me a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye.
“What?” I laughed a little too sharply.
“You don’t seem convinced that we have all of our memories back.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“Just forget it.” I turned my head, looking behind us. “I mean, I’m just all foggy from…everything. Right? Once we’re out of Ohio, I’ll feel differently about everything.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“I just need some distance. That’s all.” I could see lights off in the distance behind us.
That was odd.
“No. No. No. No.”
“Babe,” I turned around to look at Lucas, “don’t get all pissy with me, all right? I’m just all wonky in my head right now. That’s all.”
“Fucking shit!” Lucas growled, which made my eyes triple in size.
Lucas slammed on the brakes of my car, forcing me to turn and brace my hands against the dashboard to keep from being sent through the windshield. The sound of squealing tires against asphalt filled the interior of the car as I held onto the dashboard, and Lucas brought the car to a full stop. When we had come to a complete stop, I was still staring at Lucas, even more wide-eyed than before, and my fingers refused to be pried from the dash. Lucas’ hands were no longer on the steering wheel and were slowly curling into fists, and his face had turned red with rage.
What the fuck was going on with him?
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Lucas punctuated each curse with a slamming of his fist against the steering wheel, ratting it on the mount.
