by Gaby Triana
All I could think about were the ghosts of the Sunlake Springs and how I could see them.
“I take it you asked my mom where I was?” Because I sure as hell hadn’t told her. Getting away literally meant getting away, in my book.
She nodded. “She gave me your sister’s address, told me you’d enjoy having a visitor. Hope it was okay that I surprised you.”
It wasn’t.
And I’d be having a word with my mother at some point in the next few days.
“Yes, so happy to see you.” Too bad I’m going to have to kick you out soon. “How was the retreat?”
We entered the room. I closed the door behind us. There was nothing of mine there to even nervously fiddle with, so I threw myself on the bed and hugged a pillow, pretending I was really tired. Outside, the sun was lowering in the west, creating tangerine stripes across the wall.
Cami threw her packed bag that looked like it had enough stuff for a week’s stay into the desk chair. “Ay, the retreat,” she said, voice loaded with resentment. “The one you left me at by myself.”
“I guess we’re going to talk about that.”
“Shouldn’t we?” She sank onto the edge of the bed. She looked different, though it was probably me who’d changed.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, Cami. Believe it or not, you’re the first person I said anything to. I haven’t been into the whole Youths for Jesus scene for a while now. Even before Antoni, so don’t think that’s why,” I added before she could mention it.
“I was going to ask you that.”
“Of course, you were.”
She watched me a moment then glanced at her nails. “I thought your grandfather’s death also might’ve had something to do with it. Didn’t it affect you? I thought it was weird how you didn’t mourn him that much.”
How could I explain to Cami that Cuco hadn’t meant to me what he’d meant to the whole Ministerio Rey Jesus family. To me, he was my strict grandfather whose sole way was the highway. To them, he was a pillar of the community, a treasure. “I miss him, but that’s not why I ditched the retreat.”
She shrugged. “Thought maybe you left because he wasn’t around anymore to watch over you. I know you felt pressured by him.”
“I did. But Abuela is the same way, and so is my mom, to a certain extent. All our friends are. So is school. I mean, MRJ has been our whole life since we were little, our entire worldview. There hasn’t been a moment I haven’t been immersed in it, you know?”
“It’s a good community.”
“It’s not everything.”
“It’s a good, safe place, Vale, filled with good people. I know we’re not all perfect, but that doesn’t mean we should be discarded.”
“I never discarded anyone, Cam. I just needed to get away. You understand that, don’t you? Everyone needs a vacation. Mental health is a top priority.”
She sucked in a breath. “So, you wanted to see what it was like outside the church walls.”
“Basically.”
“I guess I can’t blame you for wanting to visit your half-sister.”
“It’s just sister, Cami. We don’t call ourselves ‘half-sister.’ We don’t purposely quantify the fifty percent, you know? Besides, we’ve gotten close like full sisters.” I felt a bit guilty saying that. I’d spent so much time away from the house.
A minute went by where we didn’t say anything. The full moon ritual was set for tonight, 10:05 PM, and I could not, under any circumstances, miss it. I wracked my brain trying to figure out how to get back to the resort without Cami. I would have to make an excuse, another lie. Two steps in the right direction, two steps back again.
“Were they surprised I left?” I asked.
A puff of air escaped her lips. “Um, yes. Father Willie wanted to call you and talk to you, Sister Agatha called your mom, and everybody kept saying how rude it was the way you left.”
“Rude? I quietly slipped out. I bothered literally no one.”
“But you know they don’t see it that way.”
“See, that’s my point. Now you understand why I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. Did anyone consider maybe I was having a crisis? Did anyone give me the benefit of the doubt? This is my point, Cami. The church is supposed to be about acceptance, tolerance, love, understanding, yet when people don’t act perfectly, everyone gets judgy.”
“No one got judgy.”
“You just said they were saying how rude I was! That’s judgy. Look,” I pressed my fingers against my eyes, “I don’t want to discuss it. I came here to refresh. You’re the one who decided not to warn me that you were coming, and the first thing you talk about is the retreat.”
She crossed her arms. “You asked how it went. I told you.”
“Fine.”
“All I’m saying is it’s okay to try something different, but ultimately, we all go home, Vale.” To God, to the Lord. She didn’t have to spell it out for me to understand what she meant.
“What if we don’t?” I asked. “What if we find happiness elsewhere?”
“Are you saying you’re happy here?”
“I might be. I don’t know. I’ve only been here two weeks.”
“Then find a church near you, wherever you are. That’s the important thing.”
I gawked at her. I hadn’t wanted to open this can of worms here and now, but if we were going there, may as well. “Why is that ‘the important thing?’”
Cami blinked a few times. She scanned the room for a reasonable answer. Like most people I knew, she couldn’t begin to fathom a life without religion. “Because it is. Because you need God in your life, Vale.”
“Who says I don’t have God in my life, Camila?” I was nearly shouting. In thirteen years of friendship, I’d never shouted at her.
She stared at me.
I never said I was done with God, no matter how feverishly I’d danced buck-naked under the moonlight with strangers. Thinking of them felt at such odds with Cami’s presence. This had all been easier without her here. Now that she was, I felt disoriented and lost.
For a moment, I considered giving in to the safety of my former life. Maybe the clairs were leading me astray. Maybe Cami was here to save me.
“Where’s your stuff?” She glanced around.
I looked at her. “Like what?”
“Your clothes, your bag…there’s nothing here but a bed and a desk. Where were you before I got here? Your sister texted you, then you arrived fifteen minutes later. Just tell me.”
“I was out.” I was my old self again, defending my actions with partial truths.
“Where? Tell me, Valentina, for fuck’s sake, just talk to me!” She huffed and walked over to the window. “You’re different. I can tell.”
“I am different, Camila. That’s what two weeks away from home will do to you.”
We were two canoes in a swiftly moving river, each traveling at a different rate, at times moving near each other, at times drifting far apart. My heart hurt to think I’d decided our friendship would be on pause long before she got here, before the retreat, maybe during our senior year, and I hadn’t bothered to tell her.
She had a right to be angry.
Staring at the neighbor’s yard, she clucked her tongue. “Is it a guy? Someone you met online?”
“What? No. Camila, it’s not always about a guy.” I stood and paced the room. There was no changing her. I couldn’t bring her along where I was headed either.
Outside, the sky grew deeper purple. The clairs were probably going batshit wondering where I was. I owed them nothing, yet I didn’t want to let them down. For once, I was exactly where I wanted to be. My choice. I wanted part of the full moon ritual. I liked the new possibilities, the new friendships, the exploration of this new spiritual side, even if, at times, it was scary as balls.
“Look, I know you came all this way just to see me, and
I promise I will explain everything to you. I’ll come clean, but for now I have to go.” I moved to the door, hoping she’d leave of her own accord.
“You said that last time right before you left the retreat.”
“And if you’re my friend, you’ll trust me.”
“I drove six hours. I’m not going back tonight. It’s dangerous to be on the road late by myself. I don’t think you want that for me, do you?”
“Then stay here. Macy has everything you need. She’s a great hostess.”
“I don’t want to hang with Macy, Valentina. I want to be with you. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I want to be a part of your life, no matter what it is.”
I stared at her. “You don’t want this. Trust me.”
“Trust me, Valentina.”
We’d been friends since the age of five. I was pretty damn sure she couldn’t handle it, but who knew? She might prove me wrong. I didn’t want to be a hypocrite like the others. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Fine,” I huffed. “Come along, or stay here. I don’t care. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Suit yourself.”
I left in a hurry. If Camila wanted to join me on this journey I’d started without her, I was no one to stop her.
SIXTEEN
Letting Cami come had seemed like the right choice, but now I had a devout Catholic in the car who also happened to be a Youths for Jesus leader, from Ministerio Rey Jesus, which also happened to be one of the city’s biggest mega churches, and we were en route—where else?—to meet a coven of witches.
I’d stormed downstairs where Macy had picked up on my fuming vibes. She’d pulled me into the kitchen and stared deep into my eyes with absolute sincerity. “Do you need me to keep her here?”
“No. I’ve inconvenienced you enough.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I appreciate it, but I need to deal with her myself. Stupid of me for thinking I could have a summer of peace and quiet.”
“I’m sorry, Vale.”
I sighed. “I’ll be back soon.”
She grasped my arm—our eyes connected. “And you’ll tell me what’s going on then?” She knew something was up.
“Yes. Promise.”
She’d touched my chin and let me go without another word.
Truth was the least I could give Macy Edwins.
Now, pulling into the long, cracked driveway of the Sunlake Springs Resort, it seemed like such a stupid choice to bring Cami. I should’ve insisted she stay behind until I could complete my obligations.
“Where’re you taking me?” Her wide gaze absorbed the dark surroundings. We ventured further away from the main road deeper into darkness.
“To your death.”
She stared ahead without a word.
“I’m kidding.” I stopped the car and got out to pull the iron gate as far open as it would go. Shuffling back to the car, I drove through the gates. “Just a head’s up, you’re going to have a lot of questions. Save them to the end.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ve met some people, that’s all, and we’re doing a prayer tonight.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Not the kind of prayer you’re used to.”
I could see the cogs in her head chugging at a furious pace to keep up. “I don’t understand.”
“I told you to stay, Cami.” I drove down the darkened path of shrubbery that had, from all the rain, grown considerably in the last few days. The ground beneath was uneven, as we bumped along. Branches reached out to scratch the sides of the car. Up ahead, the old Sunlake came into view.
“What the…?” Her gaze had fallen on its silhouette bathed in moonlight. It looked ominous with its dark and forbidden central tower and most its windows blown out. “What is this?”
“An old hotel. A hospital. It’s called the Sunlake Springs. Remember, no questions.” I pulled up to the building, parked in my usual spot, and got out, rehearsing how I was going to explain this to the clairs. I considered asking Cami to stay behind, though from the looks of it, she didn’t want to get out of the car anyway.
“You’re going in?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes. You can stay or follow.” I didn’t wait for her reply and left to locate the unlocked auxiliary door behind the registration counter. She decided to leave the car and follow me in.
I squeezed through the gap in the doorway. A feeling of coming home to a place I barely knew overcame me. Tonight, the lobby was extra dark, particularly disheveled, and I felt Cami’s trepidation like nervous rats around my ankles.
“I don’t like this.” Her voice was out-of-place in the dusty stillness.
Without my flashlight, I scanned for shadows and listened for voices so I could confront anyone before they saw her. “Wait here.”
“Vale.” She panic-whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
“I said, wait here.” I walked away.
Inky darkness greeted me, a gloom that deepened with each stretch into the expanse. I passed the bird cages and came face-to-face with the dreaded atrium. After all I’d seen today, I covered my eyes and hurried past it.
“Don’t come out. Do not…” I warned the spirits.
“Valentinaaaa,” Cami whispered.
I ignored her. “Hello?”
The hallway felt cold.
A crack snapped behind me, Cami tiptoeing into the hallway. “Are we allowed to be here? Why on Earth are we here? Oh, my God, oh, my God…”
Doubt at having brought her continued to seep in. My stomach clenched into itself. I knew I’d face questions. Crow would go back to mistrusting me. From where I stood, I heard the low thrum, the heartbeat, his drumming in the distance. A peek at my phone told me it was still early—8:30 PM—still the clairs had already begun raising energy just like we had with the mock run.
“This way.” I led her through the ballroom, where the heaps of bags, clothes, and personal belongings tipped Cami off that we weren’t alone.
“People live here?”
“Just temporarily,” I said, to ease her fears.
I was so used to making things palatable for Cami and others who would disapprove. Why I worried so much about other people’s reactions, feelings, or fears, more than mine, would always be a mystery to me.
“What’s that noise?”
I led her through the room, hoping I wouldn’t “see” whatever curious spirit was there. My heart jumped into my throat when I heard a voice from the alcove to my left.
“I knew it,” someone groaned.
Cami let out a squeal. “Oh, sweet Jesus.”
“Crow.” I pressed a hand to my chest. He wore his jeans without a shirt, kept his arms crossed over his skull-moth and nude, long-haired woman tattoos. “Why are you lurking in the dark? Aren’t you supposed to be outside?”
“Don’t tell me where I should or shouldn’t be, Vale. Who is this?”
I stepped aside to reveal Cami hiding behind me. “This is my friend, Camila. She surprised me with a visit. That’s why I left earlier, because my sister called me. Don’t worry, she’s not going to bother us.”
“She is bothering us. Why did you bring her?”
“I didn’t have a choice.” I glared at him. Surely, he understood that sometimes shit just happened. “You know I have a family. They worry about me.”
As soon as I said it, I felt bad for insinuating that I had a family who cared, and Crow didn’t. That wasn’t what I meant.
“That’s not my problem. You know what’s involved. Soon we’ll have cops here asking us to leave.”
“She’s not going to do that,” I said.
“Who is this guy, and why is he talking to you like this?” Cami was charging up, ready to defend, something she did when she wanted to appear tougher than she was.
I turned a glare on her. “Can you please?”
�
�We can’t have her here,” Crow said. “Get her out.”
“Cami, just…take my car and go back. I’ll explain later. I promise it’s nothing.”
“It’s nothing? You brought me to a place that looks like Halloween Horror Nights and some random guy comes out of nowhere and starts telling you what to do? What’s going on?”
“There’s something I have to do.” I wrestled with offering an explanation, but we didn’t have that kind of time. “See my things over there? Sit for a while. Don’t go anywhere until I come back. Believe me, you don’t want to be caught alone in this place.”
“Is this urban exploring, what you’re doing? I can’t believe this,” she mumbled, doing what I asked and plopping beside my duffel bag, drawing her knees to her chest. “You owe me, huge.”
Crow stepped out of the alcove and took me by the elbow, but I yanked it out of his grasp. We walked out the back doors onto the veranda. When we were far enough away, he turned his scrutinizing gaze on me. “What were you thinking bringing a friend here when you know what we’re doing tonight?”
“I told you, I didn’t have a choice! She blindsided me.”
“You always have a choice, Vale.”
Fae flew up the slope, wearing her flowing skirt on the bottom half but nothing on the top. Her hair was covered in wildflowers. She looked glowingly beautiful, as always, but now, instead of appreciating her, I cringed inside, thinking of what Cami would say about her.
Mori waltzed up the walk to the veranda, a little more modest wearing an open-sided tank top. “What’s happening?” they asked.
“Valentina brought a friend,” Crow hissed.
Mori gave me a confused expression. I didn’t care anymore if Crow got upset with me, but seeing Mori’s questioning face suggesting possible betrayal to the group hurt.
“I had no choice. She drove a long way to see me. When I said I had something to do, she insisted on coming along. I’m sorry, guys. We can still do this. She’s not going to bother us.”
“Her being here is already a disruption,” Crow said.
“I can’t say I disagree,” Mori said.
“One I can’t do anything about,” I insisted.
