by Jim Johnson
Cooper hunched forward and rested his slabbed arms on his knees. “You left the lights on again.”
Crap. I frowned and glanced at him. “What?” Playing dumb wasn’t going to get me far, but sometimes it was all I had to work with.
“You left the lights on, Rachel. And the oven.” Penny crossed her flabby arms over her ample chest and frowned at me. Somehow, I didn’t know how exactly, but even sitting down and below my eye level, Penny made it seem as if she was looking down on me, like some sort of judge.
I hated that look.
I wrapped both hands onto my satchel strap, tight enough that if I had glanced down, I would have seen my pale white knuckles.
“Vinya was home when I left. She could have left them on.” I paused, glanced at Abbie, then added, “Besides, I didn’t bake anything this morning.”
Which was the truth—I rarely cooked and when I did, it wasn’t in the morning and it sure wasn’t with the oven. I wasn’t much of a baker, not since the lingonberry upside-down cake incident.
Penny shifted in the wingback so that she was facing me full on. “I talked to Vinya before she went to bed. She said she hadn’t cooked anything this morning and that she left the house right before you. She assumed you would get the lights.”
I tried an innocent shrug but didn’t see a change in Penny’s expression. I shook my head. Screw this—I had too much other stuff going on to deal with.
I lifted my hands up in the air. “Okay, look. I’ll take responsibility for leaving the lights on. But I didn’t cook anything this morning. I had no reason to turn on or use the oven.”
Penny covered an uncertain look, then her frown deepened. “I feel like I’ve explained to you why it’s so important to turn the lights off whenever we’re not in the room or leaving the house for the day. The electric bill isn’t cheap.” I glanced at Abbie for some support, but the set of her shoulders suggested that she’d been hearing the riot act from Penny for a while already.
Great. I stared at Penny, thinking fast, and then I sighed and caved and took the easy way out. “Look, I’m really sorry I left the lights on again. I was in a rush to leave and I just, you know, forgot.” I sighed once more, feeling the weariness of the day’s events pressing down. “I didn’t leave the oven on, but I’ll own the lights. And I promise to try very hard not to do it again.”
I focused on Abbie, not willing to give Penny a chance to add anything else. “I’m going up to bed. See you soon?”
Abbie glanced at me and nodded. Without another look at anyone, I shifted my weight and bounded up the stairs.
Chapter 10
I GOT UP THE STAIRS AND into our room and the door shut without another complaint from Penny. I tossed my satchel onto the floor near the door and sighed in relief. For the first time all day, I felt like I was in a place where I could actually take control and relax.
I heard quiet voices downstairs, but didn’t bother to try and listen in. I could fill in the blanks easily enough. Abbie soon joined me and took the couple steps over to our bed. She flopped onto it and then laid back and stretched out spread-eagled on it.
“Jesus, Rachel. Tell me you had a better day than I did.”
I unzipped my hoodie and let it drop to the floor on top of my satchel and then kicked off my sneakers as I walked over to the bed. I hit the mattress chest first and wrapped an arm around Abbie’s waist and pulled myself in close to her, burying my nose in her dreadlocks.
I mumbled into her hair. “I had a terrible day.”
She wrapped an arm around my back and tucked the other one under her head for support. “Didn’t hear you, love.”
I moved my face from out of her hair and pecked her on the cheek before tucking my other hand under my head too.
“I said I had a terrible day. Just one thing after another.”
She snorted. “Not that I want to compare, but you go first. Whoever had the better day does the laundry on Saturday.”
“I’ll take that deal in a hot minute.” I didn’t mind doing laundry, but I knew she hated to do it with a passion. And I was confident I had the worse of the two days. I mean, how could hers compare to an explosive curtain, a talking crystal pendant, and a couple of ghosts checking me out? Not to mention the doom and gloom from Penny. No, I knew I had this one.
But…what was I going to say? Abbie and I had been dating for a few months and I trusted her, but… What had happened today was so strange, and I had no idea what to make of it, and…
No. I couldn’t tell her, not yet. I didn’t make any sense to me and it sure wouldn’t make any sense to her.
We had such a good relationship going. We didn’t keep secrets from each other, at least not big stuff, but what happened today…I just couldn’t tell her. It was too much, too soon.
I snuggled in close to her and sighed. “I went to the home to see my grandpa and brother.”
“Uh-oh,” she said. “How’s your grandpa?”
“He’s doing well. Said he started a new medication but seemed to be doing okay.”
“And Robert?” She arched one of her elegant eyebrows.
I sighed. “I had to…go to the bathroom, and when I got back, he had already left. And he didn’t leave my stipend behind. I was supposed to get it, but he forgot. Again.”
Abbie shook her head slightly. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna try and meet him for lunch tomorrow. Maybe you can join us? He wants to meet downtown again since he’s always too busy to come to Del Ray. Always makes me go into the city.”
Abbie nodded against me. “I can meet up with you. Need a little moral support?”
“You keep me calm.”
Which was true. There’d been more than a few times where I had wanted to beat my brother senseless, but Abbie’s presence had kept me from going nuts.
“I’ll be there.” She hugged me and then asked, “Anything else happen today?”
I thought fast and then nodded. “Yeah, it was weird. I went to work and there was a new bunch of crystals on consignment from that bizarre lady, Miss Chin. I checked them out and I think one of them…well, I’m pretty sure one of them talked to me.”
Abbie snorted. “What? Talked to you?”
I joined in the chuckle. “Yeah, crazy, huh?” I covered my chuckle with a big fake yawn, hoping to cut this conversation short.
Abbie yawned as well. “What did it say?”
“What? Oh…uh…nothing intelligible.” I nodded against her again. “Maybe I was just tired.”
“I think you’re pulling my leg.”
“I’m not clever enough to come up with something like this out of thin air.”
She laid back, the smile widening on her face. “You do have a clever tongue.”
I slapped her belly playfully. “Come on, I’m being serious.”
She pulled me in close and kissed me. “I know, sweetie.”
I shifted to rest my chin on her tummy, and we sat quietly together for a few minutes. I loved to lie like this and feel her belly and chest rise and fall with her breaths. I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped she’d drop the crystal thing.
Finally, she said, “Well, I don’t know what to say. If you think you’re hearing things, we need to either get you more sleep, or get you checked out.”
I turned to rest my cheek against her belly and sighed. “I don’t want another counselor, not after getting my fill of them after I got home from UPenn. I’ve had enough of people listening to me talk and then offering nothing but greeting card sayings.”
I shook my head on her chest, my chin digging a bit into her skirt and blouse. “I’m honestly not sure what I heard. I bet it’s nothing. Just a long day and being stressed out about money.”
She nodded and then nudged me to get me off her chest. She sat up and got off the bed. “I don’t know about you, but it’s time get into jammies and continue this talk under the covers.”
I nodded, and got off the bed as well. We made short work of undr
essing ourselves and switching into our sleeping clothes—I with panties and cami and she threw on an old ratty green flannel nightgown that stopped at about mid-thigh. It wasn’t the most attractive piece of clothing, but it was super soft and very comfortable to snuggle against.
There was a little bit of moonlight and ambient light from the outside street lamp, and it took just a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the lower lighting. I scooted to the middle of the bed and felt Abbie’s arm snake around my waist and pull me close.
She snuggled her face into my neck and kissed me lightly along my collarbones. I sighed happily, and wrapped my arms around her and held her close as we settled into our pillows and made little adjustments to our sheets and cold feet.
Abbie yawned against my throat, then mumbled, “Sorry.”
I pulled her in and kissed her before settling in. “Anyway, you didn’t tell me about your day.”
She shook her head and I caught the curve of a smile before she buried her face in my neck again. “Just a rough day on the Hill. A talking crystal has to be more interesting than neither side of the House talking to each other, so I’d say you win. I’ll do laundry on Saturday.”
I rested my head on the pillow, bringing my mouth close to hers. I leaned in and kissed her gently on the mouth and then grinned. “I appreciate that, but you know I’d help you anyway.”
She sighed into me then closed her eyes. “Good night, my dear. May tomorrow be a better day for us both.”
I wished her good night as well, and settled into the embrace, our mutual warmth doing a fine job against the sudden chill in the air. I’d left the pendant in my satchel, figuring that was a good place to leave it for the night.
Unfortunately, this strange day was going to hold onto me to the bitter end. The old pony clock with the glowing hands on the wall told me it was just after ten. I wanted to go to sleep, but the day’s events just kept tossing and turning in my head, possibilities and questions rushing in one after another. And I felt like crap about basically lying to Abbie.
I held her close, tamping down the urge to roll over and grab my phone for some late night internet surfing about ghosts and crystals. I just laid there quietly next to her, my brain going a hundred miles an hour, replaying the events of the day over and over. And what about Malcolm?
I carefully reached out to the bedside table so as to not disturb Abbie, and grabbed my phone and brought it close to my face. I pulled up my texts and saw the test ‘hello’ text Malcolm had sent to me. I stared at it for a minute or so, thinking hard, and then made a tiny shrug. Why not?
I texted, “Really weird day, huh? Let me know when you wanna meet and talk—R.”
I turned off my phone and let it drop onto the rug on my side of the bed. I didn’t know if Malcolm would want to get together or not, but it couldn’t hurt to try. I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to spill all the strange details to anyone else, not even Abbie or Bonita.
Now…what about the pendant, and that strange ghost woman standing in the alleyway? Tomorrow was a day off from Bonita’s store, and Abbie would be at work. Maybe I’d make my way to the other side of Del Ray and see if I could visit Miss Chin. I bet she’d have some answers about the crystal, at least.
Darker thoughts then moved me back toward thinking of that ghostly woman in the alleyway—I was sure she’d been dead. The more I thought about her and the other things that had happened during the day, I thought about what she’d said to me, about what she had wanted. “Peace.”
Yeah, right. I wouldn’t get much peace tonight. Even though I was snuggled in against my love, it was a long time before I finally fell asleep.
Chapter 11
AFTER RESTING FOLLOWING THE AFTERNOON’S EXERTIONS, the Spinner found his way to that centering place he knew so well, and settled his mind and will for the task at hand.
His efforts over the last several months had thinned the Veil in the nursing home sufficiently that for short periods of time, he could effect a breach and force a helpless soul to cross over.
It hadn’t been easy, and it had cost him more than he cared to admit. He was in a delicate balance and he knew it, but the upswing was starting to turn into a positive.
The first soul he’d taken had been an ugly mess. He’d been barely able to hold the conduit open long enough to get the soul through, and even then, the conduit had collapsed mid-transit, so all he’d gotten for his efforts had been a gibbering soul and tattered remnants of etheric energy. He’d feasted on it, of course—no sense wasting what little he’d been able to get.
But he got stronger, and better at calling souls forth through the conduits he tore into the Veil. The second soul was more intact when he teased it through, and the third nearly whole.
He thought he’d gotten a bonus this afternoon; those two children, blind to the ley etherics, had somehow managed to follow his target to his break in the Veil, and had somehow managed to sense some aspect of what he had been doing.
He puzzled on that as he meditated. The more aware he became of the glimmering ley threads far beneath the earth, the arcs of power that connected all things, he couldn’t resist reaching out with his own talents and tugging on some of those threads. He didn’t recall pulling the threads connected to these particular individuals, but they had arrived all the same.
He wondered if perhaps there were others out there who could pull on threads and influence souls to move to one area or another, but he doubted it.
He was the Spinner, after all. Who else could do what he did?
He focused his will and reached out with virtual hands, digging deep into the arcane structures built into the very depths of the world. He didn’t know who had built the etheric grid or why, but it was there all the same, untapped potential for the taking.
And he liked tapping into it, oh yes, he did.
In his private suite in what he’d taken to calling the woven world, the etheric realm beyond the Veil, he reached out with the force of his will and the power of his own hands and gathered some of the latent power contained within the grid. He started to knit it into a conduit connecting his suite to the rip he’d formed in the Veil in that stairwell in the nursing home.
It took some time and effort, and he could feel the drain on his body hidden back in the mortal world, but he paid the fatigue little mind. The soul he’d feasted on earlier in the day had been more than sufficient to give him the strength he needed to do it again. He’d been able to siphon some of the energy off into a private holding tank, a grid of his own design, patterned off the ancient, main grid he so regularly tapped into.
Shaping his thoughts in conjunction with his weaving, he formed the conduit and then with an etheric flip of the switch, activated it.
He felt the surge of power escape him, gasped all over again at the raw power under his control.
Within his cosmic third Eye, the air split into a diagonal gash lined in blue lightning shot through with his own golden energies. He sensed the conduit twisting through uncharted space and through the Veil, ending at the gap he’d created in the stairwell.
The dark center of the conduit creased open, and the drab far wall of the nursing home stairway rippled into view.
He took a few moments to adjust the power flow from the grid, through his body as a vessel, and into the conduit, and adjusted the anchors on both sides so that the rift didn’t accidentally collapse before he wanted it to. He’d thought to use anchors the second time he created a conduit and was glad he’d been smart enough to remember one of the old lessons his father had taught him about construction. Before things had changed and his father had abandoned him.
He took a deep breath and refocused. The past was the past. He had moved on since then. He was now a master at the weave, the splitter of the Veil. The god-damned Spinner, and there was no one else like him in all the world.
Grinning to himself, he gathered a tendril of will and pushed it into the conduit and out through the Veil, and into the nursing home’s stairwel
l. He sent the tendril out of the opening he had crafted and sent it up the stairs toward the second residential block.
And then he closed his virtual eyes to match his physical eyes back home, and began to scan for a likely candidate, a soul nearing their natural time who’d only need a gentle nudge or two toward their final glory. Or perhaps not so gentle.
He sent his invisible tendril of power down the hallway, pausing at each doorway set to either side. By the time he’d finished his sweep of the apartments, he’d identified two candidates—one male, one female.
He’d brought home a female during the afternoon, so by fiat decided to go with the male. Why not taste something a little different? Even though all souls were different by their individual nature, male and female souls did carry some distinctive differences. He felt like tasting the male variety this night. And, as he had feasted earlier in the day, this was more of a storage run than one for sustenance. The private grid he was building needed to be filled with raw energy, and he’d need a wide variety of souls to bring it fully online.
He focused his tendril on that door and pushed underneath it. The physical door was hardly a barrier to his etheric thread, but it was easier and less wearisome to simply go around the obvious barriers than to push through the tiny cracks of the molecules and atoms that made up the door.
He approached the bed where the old man slept soundly, the various machines surrounding and connected to him with a variety of tubes and cables blinking and chirping quietly, doing their part to sustain his fading life.
The Spinner looked down on the man and felt the strength of his soul, even after all the long years the man had clearly lived.
It would have been easy to dig deeper into the man’s soul, to get a sense of what sort of life he had lived and what events he had taken place in, but he didn’t do that anymore. He preferred to not have a personal connection to the souls he collected. Far too sad to read their lives before taking them. Much more efficient and kind to guide them to the light and then help them slip away into nothingness.
