Third Time's a Charm

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Didn’t you flunk biology?” Heather asked.

  “No. I got a C-minus,” William answered. “I stand by my point.”

  “If you don’t want to date Troy, we won’t press the issue,” Lorna said. “We’ll support you whatever you decide.”

  Vivien smiled. Lorna had a natural sweetness about her.

  Heather turned onto Main Street. The historic brick buildings were a point of pride in Freewild Cove, but there was one building that stood out amongst the rest—Warrick Theater. Compared to similar theaters in small towns, it wasn’t anything special. It only had a little over a hundred seats in the auditorium. Heather often held screenings of movies from the 1980s and ’90s, and there was a stage for live performances.

  Julia Warrick commissioned it over a hundred years ago. The interior needed a coat of paint, but Vivien didn’t dare say that to Heather. It had the same gold and burgundy sponge-painted walls that had been there when Heather inherited the property from her grandmother. With the building’s historical status, it took special permission from the city to make any changes, which was another way of saying it would take an act of God, and even then the council would still debate for three years.

  What made the theater stand out was that it was commissioned by a woman, and not just any woman—a renowned medium and spiritualist. Julia held séances, and people came from across the country to see her perform. But Julia was much more than that—she’d been a bootlegger, a pot grower, owned a hotel, and even had a small stint as a burlesque dancer.

  The woman was a freaking legend and Vivien’s personal hero.

  Heather found parking close to the entrance. She led the way to the smaller door next to a long row of glass security doors and unlocked it to let everyone inside. They entered the front lobby. To the left were restrooms, the theater office, storage, and a door that led up to Lorna’s former apartment. To the right was a hallway with access to the side alley. The concession stand had been stocked and cleaned. Vivien knew that it was Heather’s doing. Lorna had not been back to the theater since the last demon attack.

  Lorna walked across the lobby to stare at the floor where Heather and William had found her after the demon had attacked the first time. She then turned in a slow circle looking around. “The air feels lighter in here. I think the smudging helped. I don’t feel afraid.”

  Vivien agreed but didn’t verbalize it.

  “Julia usually hangs around the seating area,” Heather said, leading the way into the auditorium. William and Lorna followed her.

  Vivien began to go after them but felt a shiver of apprehension and stopped. She turned to the row of glass doors. The sidewalk in front of the theater was empty. Cars drove down Main Street at a leisurely pace. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

  She looked left then right. Nothing unexpected was in the theater with her.

  A tiny, dismissive laugh almost escaped her, only to die when her eyes went back toward the glass doors. She saw someone standing across the street, staring at the theater. The glass must have been smudged because the man appeared out of focus.

  No. Wait. He was not staring at the building. It felt as if he stared at her.

  Vivien slowly walked toward the doors. Her hand lifted for the handle. The bright sunlight made it hard to see details, but her psychic senses told her she didn’t imagine this.

  With each step, her heart beat harder. The figure didn’t move. A car drove past, the sun reflecting off shiny metal, forcing her to blink.

  The man lifted a hand and motioned, just like the spirit that had led her to the beach. Vivien felt the need to listen. She pushed the long metal security handle to open the door. A cool breeze hit her when she stepped outside, colder than it had been when she’d entered the building minutes before with her friends.

  “Sam?” she whispered, knowing it had to be him. She saw the shape of him, the impression of youth and vitality. He wore shorts with no shirt.

  Vivien stopped at the curb as another car went by. The reflected light caused her to blink again. She shaded her eyes. Sam raised his hand and motioned for her to join him.

  She had to go. She had to see him.

  How was he here? The details of his face appeared blurred as if she couldn’t quite bring him into focus.

  “Sam?” she asked a little louder, but not loud enough for any living person to hear her from across the street. She fought to find her voice. Every inch of her shook. Nerves bunched in her stomach and caused her to shiver.

  He lifted his hand again. Vivien nodded and stepped off the curb. She glanced to the side to make sure no cars were coming. Her heart beat heavily in her ears. In a few steps, she’d be with him.

  “Sam,” she managed a little louder.

  The word barely left her when a horn honked loud and long. An SUV swerved past her.

  “Vivien!” Heather screamed in terror.

  Someone yanked her arm, roughly jerking her back. She narrowly missed being struck as a second vehicle whizzed past. William flung her into the side of Heather’s car. The hard metal jarred her, and she grunted in pain. The sound of running footsteps pounded on the sidewalk as Lorna and Heather rushed toward them. Another car drove by, not as fast as the others.

  “What is wrong with you?” William demanded. “Why didn’t you look where you were going?”

  “I…” She frowned as she looked across the street. Sam was gone. “I did. That car came out of nowhere.”

  “Nowhere? You looked right at it and stepped in front of traffic,” Heather said. “You’re lucky we were coming to get the candles out of the car.”

  “No, I looked. There wasn’t any traffic,” Vivien said. “Look both ways when crossing the street. That’s kindergarten-level stuff. Those drivers were driving like maniacs.”

  “No, they weren’t,” Lorna said.

  “Is everyone all right?” a voice called.

  “Yes, Melba, thank you. We’re fine!” Heather shouted down the sidewalk.

  “Have you seen Ace?” Melba yelled.

  “No, sorry,” Heather answered. “If I see your cat, I’ll let you know!”

  Vivien’s heart beat faster as she belatedly responded to almost being hit by a car. Her legs weakened and she held onto Heather’s car for support. “I didn’t see it. I looked and I didn’t see it. All I saw was…”

  “Was what?” Lorna prompted.

  “Sam. I saw Sam. He wasn’t just a bright light this time. He was standing there waving at me to come over. His face was blurry, like he was a little out of focus, but I know it was him. I felt no fear. I just wanted to get to him.” A tear slipped down Vivien’s cheek. She had looked and the streets had been empty. He’d made her feel safe. All she could think about was getting to him. “I think I’m in serious trouble.”

  “Let’s go inside.” Heather slipped her arm through Vivien’s and held her upright. “We’re starting to draw a crowd.”

  Vivien ignored the family that had paused a few feet away to watch them. Others had stopped across the street. The sidewalks were no longer empty.

  “Heather, I was wrong,” Vivien whispered as her friend led her to the unlocked door. “I made an enormous mistake. I think Sam does want to kill me.”

  Chapter Nine

  The love of her life wanted her dead.

  Everything inside Vivien protested that statement. Sam had not been an evil man. He’d barely been a man. They were kids playing at house, so young, so broke, so hopeful. She’d give anything to go back to that imperfect perfection.

  Anything but her life.

  What had she done? She’d been so desperate to get Sam back that she hadn’t stopped to think about the consequences. It had never occurred to her that her desire to find a way to magically resurrect him would somehow end up with him trying to kill her and bring her to his afterlife.

  Vivien was not ready to die. She was not one to have fatalistic tendencies. She loved being alive. Besides, her friends needed her, and she needed them. Heather’s
desperation lingered inside her. It was a feeling she’d never be able to shake. And Lorna had come so far after the betrayal of her dead husband, but she still fought her doubts about her relationship with William.

  Ah, William. He would never admit it, but he needed her too. He thought of her as a sister, and they bickered like siblings. William didn’t let many people in, not really. He was likable and had friends, but they were buddies at best. If Lorna became hesitant about their relationship, he wouldn’t know to keep pushing. He’d be respectful and back away, and it would be the biggest mistake of his life. Lorna and William belonged with each other. She’d seen it the second she witnessed the two of them walking together. They sent off a beacon any half-assed psychic could see, and Vivien was hardly half-assed.

  Sometimes souls just fit. They were two pieces of the same puzzle.

  Vivien’s piece had been Sam. She’d felt the explosion of it when they first met, and she’d felt the unbearable agony when she lost him.

  Doubts crept into her thoughts. What if too much time had passed? What if she weren’t the same person? What if it wouldn’t be the same? What if the only way they could be together again was with her death?

  Vivien would die someday, obviously, but that would not be today. She didn’t want to die to be with him, not anymore. And that bothered her.

  This was the grand love of her life. This was the romance-novel love story. This was a love that defied reality and broke all the rules. Every female in her family knew these things to be true.

  If those facts were accurate, then nothing else should matter. She shouldn’t be thinking of Heather’s feelings, or Lorna and William’s relationship, or how much she enjoyed breathing and… ah fuck. Troy. She kept thinking of Troy.

  She could write off Troy as a thought planted in her head by her friends. He had saved her. Maybe there was something to William’s damsel-in-distress theory. Not that she was a damsel who needed a prince charming to save her, but the whole psychological hero-grateful-mistaken-love thing did happen after a daring rescue.

  That didn’t explain her bumbling around during the car ride. Or her attraction to him when they’d first met. Or…

  “Shut up, brain,” Vivien hissed under her breath.

  “Viv?” Heather asked. She and Lorna were staring at her as Vivien stood on the stage, holding one of the blue candles.

  “Yeah, here,” Vivien said, handing the candle toward Lorna. “I was just saying I think it’s smart that we’re doing this here.” She gestured to the black-painted stage. “It is where Julia spent a lot of time, and I’m beginning to think maybe this is the place with the best mojo.”

  “That’s what you were saying?” Heather asked as she placed the séance book on the floor. It was the same setup they’d used to call Glenn, and it had worked in this space.

  Vivien nodded.

  Heather arched a brow. “Funny, cause I distinctly heard you tell your brain to shut up.”

  “You know, a good friend would just let me have my lie,” Vivien muttered.

  “And a great friend will call you on your bullshit,” Heather countered. “If you need someone to blow sunshine up your ass, I’m sure that chick Summer is around here somewhere.”

  “Omigod, Summer? I haven’t thought about her in years,” Vivien laughed. To Lorna, she explained, “She was this super-perky cheerleader who used to tell people these strange affirmations every day—like bad internet memes before the internet was a thing. Only you can feel the sunshine of your life. Breathe and enjoy today, don’t worry about tomorrow because aliens could blow us up any second. It was like she read them in some kind of calendar each morning. She was voted most likely to be sucked into a cult.”

  “Oh, no.” Heather laughed. “That’s too harsh.”

  “You brought her up,” Vivien said. “And tell me it doesn’t sound like it could be true.”

  “Yeah, it does, but I would have said she’s the person most likely to end up writing the internet memes,” Heather said.

  “Well, you’re nicer than me. I still haven’t forgiven her for what she did to you during your junior year.” Vivien watched Lorna arrange the candles on the floor around the book.

  “What happened in junior year?” Lorna asked.

  “Summer farted in front of a popular boy she liked and blamed it on me because I was the only other person there,” Heather said. “It was foul. Teenagers are mean.”

  “Are you talking about the famous sauerkraut fart heard around the world?” William asked from the aisle below.

  “Gee, memory lane is so much fun,” Heather drawled sarcastically. “I sure hope we can talk about this all day.”

  “You brought it up,” Vivien said.

  “Now I’m bringing it down,” Heather said.

  “I am so glad we’re no longer teenagers,” Lorna said. “I don’t miss the angst at all.”

  “I don’t miss school,” Heather added. “I remember calculating how many wasted hours there were each day. In elementary school, I was convinced if we all agreed to skip lunch, recess, and time spent playing stupid games in class, we should be able to leave after three hours of actual work.”

  “You also wanted to skip gym,” William put forth, looking up at them from in front of the stage. “I can still remember the horrified look on our mother’s face as you presented your arguments to her.”

  “That was time wasted playing stupid games,” Heather said.

  “I miss the energy I had back then,” Vivien said.

  “You say that like you’ve been slowed down.” Heather shook her head. “I think you’re more active now than you were in high school.”

  “I can’t see her anywhere,” William said, referring to Grandma Julia. He had walked the length of the theater, studying the empty seats. “I tried feeling for her like you said, but I don’t think she’s here.”

  “She’s over there,” Heather automatically pointed toward her left. “I can’t hear her, but she’s watching us.”

  Vivien turned to look where Heather indicated. She wanted to see Julia like Heather did, but nothing was there.

  “Anyone else hanging around?” Lorna asked.

  “No. It feels like it’s back to normal,” Heather said.

  “Yeah, normal,” William whispered in disbelief under his breath, still searching the seats for a sign of his grandma. Vivien was proud of him for trying, but he was still having a hard time dealing with his belief in the supernatural.

  “Okay, we’re ready,” Lorna said. She had lit the candles around the book.

  “Where do you want me?” William asked.

  “Up here with us,” Heather said. “Grandma Julia always included other people in her séances. I think it will give her more energy to manifest.”

  William pushed his hands into the stage floor and hopped his butt onto the stage without using the stairs. He swung his legs up, stood, and then came to stand between Lorna and Heather. The four of them formed a circle around the book and then sat down.

  “Just read this with us,” Lorna instructed him, sharing the piece of paper Heather handed her.

  Vivien glanced at the paper. It wasn’t the same words they’d used to call Glenn and Sam.

  “I modified it a little,” Heather said. “I thought this one might work better on Julia.”

  The spell had been one that searched for a lost child. Vivien was surprised Heather had chosen to use it. Though, all reference to a child had been taken out.

  “Join hands,” Heather said. They all took hands. At the contact her hair lifted from her shoulders. She looked at William to see what effect it was having on him. He was looking upward as if he could see his shorter hair floating around his head. The lights flickered and dimmed. The candles burned brighter.

  “I feel… something,” William said.

  “We’re connected,” Heather answered. “Now, shh. Concentrate on wanting to talk to Grandma Julia. I know you’re nervous, but you have to push that aside.”

 
William nodded.

  The emotions from the group seemed to flow clockwise through her body, entering the side that held Lorna’s hand and leaving into Heather. They became a jumbled mass as if each person shared the other’s experiences. William was indeed nervous, more so than excited. Lorna was excited, but still a little nervous. Heather was worried about everyone, but not scared of her grandmother. And Vivien, well, she felt all of them more than she felt herself. It overwhelmed her, and she didn’t know what she was feeling.

  Heather began to read, causing everyone to join in as they said in unison, “Spirits tethered to this plane we humbly seek your guidance. Spirits search amongst your numbers for the spirit we seek. We call forth Julia Warrick from the great beyond.”

  Vivien watched the book, waiting for Julia to appear. When nothing happened right away, she glanced over her shoulder to the section where Heather said she saw her ancestor.

  “I don’t…” Vivien turned back to the book. Julia had not appeared, but the faint sound of jazz came from someplace distant. “Do you hear that?”

  “No,” William said.

  “What?” Lorna asked.

  “The clicking noise?” Heather inquired with a tilt of her head.

  “No, it’s like,” Vivien strained to hear, “sultry…”

  “Sultry?” Lorna repeated.

  The music became louder as if drifting from an invisible orchestra pit. Vivien pulled her hands from Lorna and Heather and stood. “You can’t hear that? It’s like a burlesque.”

  “Didn’t Julia dance burlesque?” Lorna asked.

  “Oh, hell, no, I don’t want to see my grandma doing a striptease.” William shut his eyes tight, only to peek through a barely opened lid.

  “Not all burlesque shows were stripteases,” Heather corrected.

  Something took hold of Vivien’s arm, lifting it to the side. She heard a sound of cheering resonate over the music. She tried to turn to her friends, but the same force took hold of her hip, causing it to rotate seductively.

  “Oh, hey, what—?” Before Vivien could get out a coherent question, the room filled with light and color. The music became loud, and she saw a crowd of men in suits and ladies in gowns standing from their seats as they clapped. She looked down as something hit her thighs. It was fringe from a sparkly flapper dress. High heels lifted her ankles, so she felt like she put all her weight on her toes.