Tom’s internal monologue ran wild and quickly became a two sided argument. One side berating him and forcing him to face the horrible truth of what he had to do and where he had to go. The other side somewhat acknowledging these truths but procrastinating.
“I wonder whatever happened to Seeley’s Collectibles,” he said to himself.
Seeley’s was one of his favorite places to go as a kid. Owned and operated by an old drunk named Tom Seeley, it was an eclectic little junk shop that always had a good selection of used paperback books and heavy metal posters and cassettes that Tom would spend hours gazing at and occasionally purchase if he had any money left over from his father’s booze runs. Tom had a good report with the owner as they had the same first name. This was always the beginning of a good friendship between a man and a child, especially for the child, given the false sense of kinship. Upon entering the store Tom would be greeted by “hey, Tommy!” to which he would reply “hey, Tommy!” right back and have a good laugh.
If anything were to come of this trip, which he was now thinking was a complete waste of time, he figured he should at least head over to his favorite old shop and remember some of the good that came along with this town.
***
Cassie showed up on time for her eight a.m. shift, exhausted and exceptionally miserable. The anxiety that was running through her mind didn’t even allow her the time to acknowledge her exhaustion from a sleepless night. As she often did in times of stress, she had smoked far too many cloves and her throat and lungs were dry and scratchy as a result of it.
She hoped more than anything else that this would just all be over soon, that Stephanie Waltman, the strange undead messenger of the woman in white would show up and she’d get some answers. She scanned the entire diner, every booth and table, hoping to find the girl. Much to her chagrin, only the crabby and ungrateful regulars took up the space around her.
So much for making it through this day.
The first two hours of her shift were more awful than usual, as if God truly hated her and was stacking the odds ever against her. Two of the other servers had called out sick, leaving her to do the job of three, as Tanya, the only other server to show up, was completely useless and barely took on the job of one.
The customers certainly weren’t helping very much either. Today they were extra degrading and the tips reflected their emotions. Several dishes had to be brought back to the kitchen, as the customers did not receive what they had ordered. She really couldn’t blame them for complaining, but she couldn’t understand how since she was just the one who brought the food out, why customers always blamed her.
“Excuse me, dear!” a man’s voice shouted from a booth near the door. “Are we going to get some service here or do I need to get up and cook the food myself?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she lied, as she had gotten very used to doing at this job. “We’re a little short staffed today and I’ll be right over.”
“Not my problem,” the man said to his family and continued groaning.
Cassie just sighed, knowing there was nothing she could do about it and took her next table’s order, making sure to write everything down exactly as they had asked for it, and repeating the order back to them. After refilling her next table’s coffees she was about to make her way over to the man who had yelled at her only a moment ago, but stopped as she saw them standing up and putting their coats on.
“Seriously?” she asked the man.
“What did you think we were gonna wait all day, toots,” he yelled at her, making every word sound more degrading and condescending than the one before it.
Cassie turned away and went to brew another pot of coffee, when she decided it was time for a break.
“Tanya, I’m taking a fifteen,” she told her coworker instead of asking if that would be all right, as was customary and courteous.
Not giving Tanya the time to argue, she threw her apron off and stormed out the back door into the alley.
After lighting up her clove and coughing due to her overuse of the smokes the night before, she gasped as a voice called out to her.
“Hi, Cassandra!”
Cassie turned to the dumpster and gasped once again. Stephanie Waltman was standing there looking just the same as she had yesterday, as well as in the photo of her from nineteen-ninety-seven.
“Christ,” Cassie muttered.
“Nope, not Christ. I’m not quite convinced he really existed. And like I said, I’ve seen a whole lot of stuff.”
“Do you have some answers for me, Stephanie?” Cassie asked impatiently, letting her know she knew exactly who she was, and ignoring her attempt at a humorous anecdote.
“Don’t be so impatient, Cass,” Stephanie said, approaching her. “But yes, I’ve got answers.”
“I know who you are,” Cassie told her between taking furious puffs of her clove. “I just don’t understand how you’re here. But I’m really more concerned about why.”
“I know you did your homework last night,” Stephanie said. “Mind if I bum a clove?”
“You can smoke cloves? Aren’t you dead?”
“Did you not see me drinking coffee yesterday? Am I not standing here breathing the same air as you?”
“Yeah, I guess you are. But you must understand I’m confused, as you’ve been dead for sixteen years.”
“Ahh,” Stephanie sighed. “It will all make sense to you soon.”
“It can’t just make sense now?” Cassie pleaded.
“Nothing good ever comes quick, dear. Now how about that clove?”
“Right,” Cassie said, and reached into the pocket of her uniform to retrieve the pack.
“Just make sure you don’t touch me when you hand it to me,” Stephanie told her.
“Okay…” Cassie agreed. “You afraid I’ve got germs or something?”
“It’s me you need to worry about, not you,” Stephanie said with a laugh. “But, again, that’s more stuff you’ll understand later.”
“Well can you start explaining anything to me now? That would be kind of nice, as I’ve got to be back in there in a few minutes. Knowing a thing or two about what’s to come from that night all those years ago would probably help me get through the day a little easier.”
“Oh dear,” Stephanie said after lighting her clove, and breathing out as if the smoke were orgasmic. “You don’t need to worry about this place anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Cassie demanded.
“The diner, silly. Well, unless you want to stay. I mean, if you want to know whatever became of little Tommy, then you should probably come with me.”
“Tommy…” Cassie said, letting the weight of the situation settle on her shoulders.
“Yes, dear. Little Tommy.”
“But, my job,” Cassie said, pouting and confused. “I can’t just walk out.”
“Trust me on this one, hun. When I said you don’t have to worry about this place anymore, I mean a lot more than just the diner. Now do you want to get some answers?”
“Yes!” Cassie spat out.
“Then get in your car and get out of here. Go to your apartment. I’ve got somewhere I need to be right about now, but I’ll meet you there within the hour.”
Cassie looked hesitant, and was afraid to just abandon her job.
“I can read your thoughts, hun. Trust me. Fuck this place. Not too long from now you’ll forget it ever existed. I’ve existed as an entity between worlds for sixteen years. I think you can trust me on this.”
“Can’t you just take me to see Tommy now?” Cassie asked with a begging tone.
“He’s grown into one very handsome man, Cass. Trust me, you don’t want him to see you looking like that.”
Cassie looked down at her uniform. She couldn’t disagree. She looked back up and Stephanie was gone.
***
Tom arrived at the storefront that was once Seeley’s Collectibles ten minutes later. He pulled his car into an empty handicap parking spot and slow
ly but deliberately made his way to the big brick building that had not a single functioning business still open within its walls.
At first he had a hard time figuring out which storefront was formerly the old collectibles shop, but searching his visual memory for a moment led him to the right spot. What he found barely resembled the place he remembered. The sign over the door was withered and faded. The word TRAVEL was barely legible.
A travel agency? They turned this place into that?
Tom peered in the window in hopes he’d see something resembling the place he remembered, but the space had been completely gutted, redesigned and gutted again. A few office desks and a trash barrel were all he could see in the darkness.
After staring into the black void of the store for a good minute, he figured this would not be the darkness that would hold any answers. But then a funny and somewhat terrifying sight came into view. The reflection on the dirty glass was not quite his own. It was him, all right, just not the him that was standing there. It was a ten year old boy with a chubby face and a goofy haircut, wearing his favorite Metallica t-shirt.
“Did I really look that awkward?” he asked his young reflection.
The boy in the glass looked up at him, then off in the distance behind where Tom was standing. He pointed to something.
The glass was now no longer a simple reflective surface, but an entire scene that looked all too familiar. The dreaded Saint Anthony’s church stood tall in the image, boasting its macabre glory. In front of the church stood another old, familiar sight. The woman in white whom Tom had seen only in dreams. A crow was perched upon her shoulder, the same companion she had when he had last seen her in his subconscious mind.
He remembered that vivid and dreadful nightmare about Red Eyes luring him into the church. He saw Cassie nailing the savior to the cross while Red Eyes laughed upon his throne of mangled flesh.
“Damn you, darkness.”
***
It took two cigarettes and a lot of internal monologue to get Tom back in his car and on his way to the old church. He shut off the car stereo and rode in silence for a few moments until he was visited by his old and new nemesis.
“So far so good, Tommy-boy,” said Brent from the passenger seat.
“Fuck!” Tom bellowed and momentarily lost control of the car.
“Easy now, kid,” Brent said with a guttural laugh. “Didn’t mean to startle ya’. You must know I’m harmless by now.”
Tom let out a quick exhale and steered the car back into a straight line.
“What do you want from me now?” he asked the ghost.
“Just came to let you know you’re on the right track, is all. Like I told ya’, I’m only here to help out, kid. I guess it’s the least I can do considering so much of this is my fault.”
“Yeah, sure is.”
“You know, you ungrateful shit, you should be thanking me.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Tom asked with a snarl while carefully lighting a cigarette and keeping control of the steering wheel. “You got some real nerve, even for a ghost, to think I owe you anything.”
“You gotta’ look at the big picture, Tommy. It’s not just about you here. Lots of other characters are in this play.”
“What are you talking about?” Tom looked away from Brent and pretended to be focusing on the road as he drove. “When this is over, however it should end, will I stop running into you like this?”
“Oh you can count on that. My time here is very limited. But don’t change the subject. You do owe me a tremendous debt of gratitude.”
“For what? Being a fucking ruthless sociopath who beat on girls?”
“Technically, yes. I mean, think about it for a second. Here you are, en route to finding the long lost girl of your dreams. You think you’d even have this privilege if it weren’t for me? If I’d played my cards right Cassie and I would have been married and probably living in the suburbs with a bunch of little brats running around. She’d still be mine and you wouldn’t even be having this chance.”
“So Cassie is alive?” Tom asked, bringing his full attention back to Brent.
“Well, maybe I’ve said too much. Like I said before, I can’t give you those answers. But one way or another you’re headed toward closure. But again, maybe I’m saying too much.”
“Just tell me what you mean, goddammit!” Tom growled. As he turned his head toward Brent he saw only an empty seat and grunted in frustration, pounding the steering wheel.
He turned the radio back on to try and ease his mind, but found the act futile as a minute later he reached Saint Anthony’s church. He hastily got out of the car and looked up toward the big oak doors. Standing there in front of the church was the woman in white and her winged companion, just as his little vision in the glass had indicated she would.
A few other cars were passing by and some pedestrians were roaming about. Tom seemed to be the only person not oblivious to her presence.
But this is not a dream or a reflection in some dirty, old glass. She’s really there.
The doors of the church slowly opened and the woman vanished.
***
Cassie couldn’t help but wonder how Stephanie would get to her apartment, or how she even knew where it was. But unless Cassie had been having severe hallucinations, then Stephanie had found her place of employment with abilities that were clearly beyond human. Surely whatever powers were at play would lead her right to Cassie’s apartment.
Still reeling from the madness that had been her last twenty-four hours ─on top of her last twenty-four years─ she got in her beat up Oldsmobile and turned the key. As the engine started purring she didn’t feel quite ready to put the car in drive and put her foot on the pedal. Her mind drifted back to the times in her life when she was ignorant to the horrors of the world, both of the living and the supernatural. Demons used to be things she marveled at in books and movies and on her favorite bands’ album covers. She couldn’t help but curl her lip up and laugh at the thought that she once found them to be cool. Twenty four years ago she had made a horrible deal with one. And now she was going to answer for it.
“You can’t wash blood off your hands all that easily, Cass,” she said to herself.
“Indeed,” said a cold, deep voice from her backseat. “It leaves a nasty stain.”
Cassie’s blood turned to ice as she looked in her rearview mirror and saw a quick flash of a shadowed face and two bright red eyes. But as quickly as it came, it was gone.
Better quit the poetic soliloquy and get moving.
Cassie put the car in gear and sped away from that miserable diner forever.
***
Cassie entered her apartment with the greatest of caution. She expected Red Eyes to be hiding in the darkest corners, possibly her closet or next to any doorway, waiting to pop out at her for real this time. She made a quick sweep of the apartment and turned on every single light that could be lit. She made it to her bedroom last, and instead found Stephanie sitting on her bed.
“Took ya’ long enough Cass,” she said, smiling and smoking a clove. “Let’s get you dressed, hunny.”
Cassie said nothing and reached for the pack of cloves on her bedside table that Stephanie had helped herself to.
“There’s something different about these cloves,” Stephanie said. “They just don’t quite make them same as they used to back in the nineties.”
“There was a ban on all flavored cigarettes. The F.D.A. or whoever decided they were encouraging kids to smoke. So these are technically mini-cigars. Pretty dumb, I know.”
“No shit,” Stephanie giggled. “Better than no cloves though, I guess.”
Despite all that was happening, Cassie wanted to entertain the conversation; she felt that she had finally made a friend, whether she be ghost or zombie or whatever form of non-living entity she was.
“Why you looking so glum?” Stephanie asked, as though nothing out of the ordinary were happening here.
“I saw hi
m this morning,” Cassie answered. “And just a few minutes ago in the backseat of my car.”
“Saw who? Little Tommy?”
“No. Red Eyes.”
“Oh don’t worry too much about him right now, honey,” Stephanie said soothingly. “He just popped in to give you a little scare. He’s got other things to take care of right now. Trust me.”
“How do you know all this?” Cassie blurted out, her emotions rising rapidly. “I need some answers.”
“Honey!” Stephanie cried and stubbed her clove out in the ashtray. She got up from the bed and approached Cassie. “It’s too bad I can’t give you a hug. Well, not yet at least. But don’t worry. I’m here to help you through this. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”
“How can you know, Stephanie? You don’t know what I did and what I saw because of Red Eyes.”
“I know a lot more than you think, and I know all about demons, Cass. Trust me. More than anyone you’ll ever meet. He’s more than just a demon, though. And that’s why I’m here to help you.”
“What is he?” Cassie asked, wiping a tear away and lighting up her clove.
“Well, most people would call him Satan. The lord of all demons. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be outsmarted.”
Cassie said nothing and just puffed away at her clove.
“Cheer up, hun,” Stephanie urged her and walked over to her closet. “I’ve been in your position before and came out of it just fine.”
“You died,” Cassie reminded her.
“Oh, honey. I know. I’m dead as a doornail. But, no offense, thinking that life ends at death is a rather ignorant concept. I’m also a lot more than just a dead girl. I might have died as a result of what I did, but trust me, it all worked out for the better.” Stephanie pranced over to Cassie’s closet and began thumbing through the dresses that hung there. “Hmmmm, with what I know about this Tommy fellow, I think he’d like this one.” Stephanie pulled a long, black dress with a corset top and a ruffled bottom off its hanger. “I know you might feel a little overdressed in this, but trust me, Tommy is gonna love it!”
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