Devoured

by Amanda Marrone

  Unless you’re one of those girls who blows off her friends for a guy, I remember Ari saying.

  I sigh. Not only am I blowing her off for a guy, I’m doing it for the guy she’s in love with.

  The doorbell rings and I steel myself. At least Ryan has an afternoon shift at the park to get to, so hopefully this won’t be a long, drawn-out mess.

  I check the peephole and pull back the bolt. “Hey, thanks for coming over.”

  “I’m glad you were finally feeling up to a visit,” he says. “Even if it’s a quick one.” He leans in to kiss me and I turn my head so it lands on my cheek.

  “Here, let’s sit down.” I lead him over to the couch and he takes my hand. God, I feel like such a creep. “So how are things at the park? Has Samantha been promoted yet?”

  He shakes his head in disgust. “I haven’t talked to her much lately, she’s too busy with Christophe. But I heard some of the exchange students talking at lunch yesterday, and apparently the two of them got caught in the dorm rooms— if you know what I mean. Everyone’s talking about it.”

  “Caught as in … ?”

  “As in caught in bed.”

  “Oh my God!” I say, thinking that in a million years I never would’ve predicted that, but maybe after saving herself for Ryan all these years she couldn’t control herself.

  “Yeah,” Ryan says. “I mean, what the hell was she thinking?”

  “Uh, maybe she was thinking she has a boyfriend?” I cringe inside as soon as the words leave my mouth. That was probably not the best thing to say to my soon-to-be ex who I refused to sleep with. Of course, having lost two very important people within days of each other has probably not had the best effect on my sensitivity chip.

  Ryan raises his eyebrows and I sense things are heading south fast.

  “Well, I guess,” he says, looking at me like he’s caught on to where this conversation’s going, “that some people don’t mind rushing into things.”

  My first thought is, Touché, but then I remember why Ryan and I never did the deed.

  “Or maybe some people don’t want to rush into things because they can’t shake the feeling that their boyfriend really wants to be with his best friend. And you know what? From your reaction to Samantha and Christophe being caught with their pants down, I’m thinking I was right all along.”

  Ryan clenches his jaw. “Look, I know things have been pretty tough for you lately, and I’ve tried to be there for you, but it’s obvious you’re not ready to let me in yet. I totally understand, but maybe this isn’t the best time to talk and I should go.” He stands up and heads for the door. “I’ll call you in a few days.”

  “Ryan, I don’t think we should be together anymore.”

  His shoulders slump and he lets out a long breath. “Let’s talk about this in a few days, okay?” he says, still facing the door. “When you’re feeling better.”

  “This isn’t something I just thought of on a whim,” I say quietly. “It’s actually something I decided last week.”

  He turns to me, looking puzzled. “Last week when?”

  I hang my head. “When we went out to dinner—well, kind of during dinner.”

  “Oh, that’s great. What were you gonna do, dump me after dessert or after we’d gone back to my house and toasted our anniversary?” he asks bitterly.

  “Honestly, I’d only gotten as far as thinking how truly awful the timing was.”

  “Really? Why, because I’d planned a romantic evening for you? Or was it just too much for you to handle that Samantha’s brother bought the champagne? God, Meg! How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing between Samantha and me?”

  “Look, you can say that all you want, but there is something between you. This isn’t just because of Samantha; it’s mostly because … because there’s someone else.” I feel my face flush and wish I could fast-forward time, have him storm out of my house, and have this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach go away.

  “Someone else, as in you’re seeing someone else—now?”

  “Kind of. It’s not like I was sneaking around, well, not on purpose—and it’s not like anything big happened.”

  His mouth drops open in surprise. “Okay, so you give me all kinds of shit about Samantha, who I never once made a move on no matter how many openings I had, and you go ahead and cheat on me?” He shakes his head. “Wow, I thought I knew you better than that.”

  “That’s just it: You don’t.”

  “I guess you’re right about that, ’cause I never saw this coming.” He cocks his head at me. “It’s that guy at the park, the one who came looking for you in the ride, isn’t it?”

  I bite my lower lip and nod. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” I say, my voice trembling as tears stream down my face. “It just happened. So much has happened and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

  “You know what?” he says softly. “You’re right. A lot’s happened and you’ve got more to deal with right now than any person should have to. I just wish I was the one you wanted to help you get through it. Good-bye, Meg.”

  I let him leave, and as he shuts the door, I pull my legs to my chest and hug them close, letting my tears soak into my jeans. I think it almost would’ve been better if he’d left with screams and angry accusations echoing in my ears, instead of reminding me what a great guy he is, making the fact I’ve hurt him cut even deeper.

  A chill fills the space around me and I turn to see Remy sitting next to me, staring ahead and chewing on the end of one of her braids.

  God, help me.

  I shake my head. It’s only a matter of time before Remy makes her presence in the house known to Mom—just when Mom and I were starting to reconnect. What will happen when Mom realizes I lied to her?

  Remy takes the tip of her braid out of her mouth and looks at me with fierce determination on her face. “She d-doesn’t mean to be,” she spits out finally. “She can’t help it. But she’s really, really bad. Make a wish.”

  She starts to shimmer out of focus, and I reach out for her, only to have my hand pass through her icy body. “Wait, who?”

  “Bad apple,” she whispers as she disappears.

  I clunk my head down hard on my knees. “I can’t go through my life like this,” I whisper. “Why didn’t you go with Dad?”

  I get up and pace back and forth.

  What did Nona say? That Remy was scared and she was looking for something.

  She was looking for Dad. That was a no-brainer— she’d only asked where he was a gazillion times. But what if Dad wasn’t the only thing keeping her here. What if the thing she’s scared of is what prevented her from going with Dad?

  She obviously knew what was going to happen to Nicki, and that certainly qualifies as scary to the hundredth degree.

  I sure as hell hope there isn’t something worse than that coming down the road!

  And the apples—what do the freaking apples have to do with anything? And why does she keep asking me to make a wish?

  My head is spinning trying to process all of this.

  “Why won’t you go away?” I scream.

  I breathe hard, waiting for Remy to appear, but she doesn’t even pop up to give me a disjointed babble about bad apples.

  I desperately need help—and not the Dr. Macardo kind.

  I walk through the kitchen and scribble a quick note for Mom. I grab my house key from my purse and throw it in my backpack on my way to the garage.

  I open my phone and push Luke’s contact number, thankful he’s got the day off from work.

  “Hey, it’s me. We need to call out the big guns. We need Nona to walk Remy into the light or wherever the hell she needs to go—today!”

  I brush my sweaty bangs aside as I wheel my bike up to Luke’s porch. He offered to come get me, but I wanted more time to think. Not that it did me any good.

  All I think is that someone was killed at the Land of Enchantment site hundreds of years ago and a similar murder has happened ag
ain. But how could two girls get killed the same way? And who’s to say the first murder was even at Land of Enchantment?

  The only explanation is a ghost, but do ghosts kill? You’d think that kind of thing would be in the news—yeah, maybe not. And I’m certainly no expert on the supernatural. Maybe ghosts can kill.

  I go to press the bell, but the door flies open. Nona is there, shaking her head and looking sorrowful. She reaches out and places her pudgy hands on my cheeks. “I send blessings to you, and thanks that you and your mother are becoming a family again.”

  My first thought is to ask how we can be a family now that Dad’s gone, but then I understand. Now we can move on after being on hold for ten years—we can heal.

  Except that Remy’s still a factor.

  I see Luke standing behind Nona and feel an overwhelming longing to rush into his arms, but Nona clucks her tongue and shakes her head. “No time for that,” she says as if reading my mind. “This way.” She points down the hall to a room I haven’t been in before.

  Luke runs his fingers across my shoulder as I pass. I catch my breath, and he follows me silently into the room. It’s obvious Nona wants to get right down to business.

  A round table sits in the middle of the room draped in a red velvet cloth. Matching curtains are pulled shut, making the dimly lit room even darker. Three candles—one yellow, one white, and one orange—have been placed on the table in front of three chairs.

  “Okay,” Nona says to me, “you go here in front of the white candle. Luka—”

  “I know,” he says, pulling out the chair in front of the orange candle.

  Nona nods appreciatively. “Good boy! You’ve been paying attention. Maybe I’ll pass the business to you when I retire in ten years or so.”

  Despite everything, I can’t help smiling at this seventy-nine-year-old woman talking about retiring sometime in the next decade.

  She takes a bunch of dried herbs tied tightly together and lights it on fire. After a few seconds she blows out the flame and walks around to each corner of the room waving the smoldering stick up and down.

  “She’s smudging the room—it’s a kind of supernatural cleaning,” Luke says. “The sage will cleanse the room of negative energy and lavender is for a calming effect.”

  “I hope she used extra lavender,” I whisper, thinking we’ll need a double dose for Remy.

  Once she passes all four corners of the room, she rubs the stick on a metal plate to snuff it out. “Now,” she continues, “let’s join together as we state our intentions for today.”

  She sits in the empty chair in front of the yellow candle and slides her hands across the tablecloth toward us. I follow her lead and reach out for Luke’s hand, while Nona takes my other one.

  Luke’s hand makes me feel warm and safe, while Nona’s cool, tight grip practically buzzes with electricity.

  Nona looks up at the ceiling, which I notice for the first time is painted with the constellations. It reminds me of the ceiling of Grand Central Station in New York City, which I visited with Nicki. A tear stings my eye and I try to shake off the memory. I need to have a clear head for this. Luke gives my hand a squeeze as if he knows I need a boost, and I give him a thankful smile.

  Nona taps the table in front of me impatiently, and I focus back on her.

  “Thank you, universe, for giving me the gift to help this young lady,” she calls out loudly. “Thank you for allowing me to help her sister move on to your next realm, so that she may join her father and find the peace that waits for her.”

  She bows her head and I do the same.

  Next, she reaches into her housecoat and pulls out a pack of matches. She strikes the match and lights her candle. “The heat of the candle attracts the spirits. Yellow is for persuasion and protection.”

  It’s obvious why she’s chosen that candle; she’ll need it to help persuade Remy to move on.

  She gives the matches to Luke, who lights his own candle.

  “Orange for attraction and encouragement—this one will help bring Remy here and encourage her to listen to us.”

  Luke passes the pack to me. I strike the match and move the flame to the wick.

  “White for purity, and truth,” Nona says.

  “So we know why she’s still here,” I say.

  “Yes,” Nona says, “there’ll be no cryptic answers today. I will open the way between our world and Remy’s, and she will speak to us without the interference of the time streams. We will get the truth from her.”

  I watch my candle flicker and burn, and then Nona clears her throat again.

  “Did you bring something of Remy’s?”

  “Yeah.” Luke told me to bring something that Remy might like. I’d searched our room—now mostly devoid of our old things—until I had remembered the necklace.

  It was just a twenty-five-cent plastic heart I’d gotten in a vending machine at the grocery store. Remy loved to wear it, and whenever I protested that it was mine, she just laughed and said that if I loved her, I’d let her wear it—and I did. Remy always got her way.

  I reach into my purse for the necklace and give it to Nona. She examines it briefly, and then places it in the center of the table.

  “Remy, we ask that you join us here,” Nona says with authority.

  Remy appears by my side, with her arms folded across her chest. “Who are you?” she asks grumpily.

  Nona scoffs. “You’ve been to my house before, little girl, you know me.”

  Remy shakes her head and starts to turn away, but Nona holds her candle out.

  “Feel its warmth, Remy, come to me to warm yourself. See what your sister brought for you.”

  Remy faces Nona again, scowling. The temperature in the room drops dramatically and my heart starts to pound. This isn’t going as smoothly as I’d thought it would.

  Nona holds up the necklace with her other hand and smiles. “Would you like this Remy? If you tell us why you’re here, I’ll let you have it.”

  The necklace flies from Nona’s hand and lands in the fireplace. The logs ignite and the pink plastic heart melts from the chain.

  I stare at Luke, and his wide eyes tell me he’s just as surprised as I am that Remy’s getting the upper hand so quickly. Perhaps Nona’s experience hasn’t prepared her for a seven-year-old with a temper.

  Nona puts her candle down and calmly pushes up her sleeves with a look of determination on her face. “Remy! Tell me why you’re here. Why didn’t you go with your father?”

  The room grows colder still. My body starts to shiver, and I lean closer to my candle to gather whatever feeble heat I can from it.

  “Daddy was gonna help, but he left me! He left me!” She stamps her foot and I jump as a wave of river water splashes up over the table, extinguishing all the candles.

  My teeth are chattering as the cold water seeps into my T-shirt. Shit! If Remy’s conjuring up water from the river, things are about to blow.

  Nona stands up, glaring at my sister, who matches her stare with the look of a defiant little kid determined to get her way.

  “It is time you went into the light. Your father is waiting for you,” Nona says. She stands and holds her hands up above her head, chanting under her breath. A bright glow the size of a fist starts to form over the table. It grows as Nona rocks back and forth muttering, “Help this tortured soul find her way to your peace, help this tortured soul find her way to your peace.”

  “No! I won’t let her hurt you, Meggy!” Remy screams. “Daddy where are you?” she wails. Remy disappears and reappears in different places around the room. “Daddy?”

  “He’s there,” Nona yells, pointing at the light. “Go to him!”

  Remy reappears next to Luke and stares at Nona with hate in her eyes. “No! You’re not my mother, you can’t tell me what to do,” she says through gritted teeth.

  I didn’t think it was possible to feel any colder, but an icy wind starts to whip around the room. Droplets of water fly off Remy and form snowflak
es in the air that drift to the carpet. Frost forms on the tablecloth and my eyes grow wide as the candles freeze and crack apart.

  I want to help Nona, but it feels like the cold has frozen me in place, and I can only watch the scene, praying Nona can get things back in control.

  Luckily, Luke jumps up and rushes to Nona’s side just in time to catch her as she collapses. “Nona!”

  The room grows slightly warmer as my sister sneers and disappears.

  Luke helps Nona sit back in her chair. “Are you okay?”

  Nona mutters some sort of blessing and then looks across the table at me. Her face is pale, and sweat has gathered on her brow. “She’s filled with such rage.” She takes some tissues from her dress and mops her face. “We’ll begin again. Luka, we need new candles.”

  “No!” Luke and I cry out in unison.

  “You’re going to rest now!” Luke commands.

  Nona sighs and nods her head wearily. “Maybe you’re right, we should try again when I feel stronger.”

  Luke helps Nona up and leads her out of the room with an arm around her waist.

  I realize I’m shaking uncontrollably, and it’s getting harder to breathe. I fumble through my purse with numb fingers and find my inhaler. Trembling, I raise it to my lips and take in as deep a breath as I can manage. I exhale as Luke rushes to me.

  “Your lips are blue!” he says, wrapping his arms around me. “I need to get you warm. Let’s go up to my room.”

  He leads me out, very much like he did with Nona, and helps me up the stairs to a small room under the eaves of the house. The walls are covered with paintings, and my heart sings when I see myself looking out from a watercolor picture on an easel by the window. He’s painted such a joyful expression on my face, and I can’t help wondering when was the last time I felt like the girl in his painting—if I’ll ever feel that way again.

  He pulls aside the sheets and the down comforter, and I sit on the bed. I hesitate for a second, and then lift my wet shirt up over my head and slide my feet under the covers— too cold for any modesty. He takes his own shirt off, gets in the other side, and nestles in next to me, pulling the blankets up past our shoulders.