Brown Eyed Ghoul

by H. P. Mallory

  I must have dozed off for a minute because I was startled awake when the vehicle came to a jolting stop. Back in the city, we arrived outside a large building on a grimy road just as people started to get busy with their day. A large, iron gate rose ominously in front of us. Large block letters reading “St. Francis Hospital” were carved out of the black metal. The light of day didn’t differ too much from the night. The sky was a light gray that reflected the snow in the rare parts that weren’t mixed with black soot and dirt. The hospital was huge, much larger than the makeshift mansion that served as the abortion doctor’s headquarters. The gate was fixed to a large brick wall on either side. The driver exited his seat and opened the back door.

  I stepped out onto the walk in front of the hospital. The cab driver made no comment, but arched an eyebrow at the sight of the baby. Alice was asleep, and her fleshy, pink-hued face was turned into the sheet, her delicate fingers curled beneath her chin.

  I tried to smile innocently at the cab driver, hoping our next stop wouldn’t be the police station. Drake nodded to the driver and walked to the gate and pushed it open.

  He stood at the entrance but I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

  “If we go inside, won’t they ask us questions?” I asked him.

  “I don’t know, mon chaton. I’ve never abducted a baby before,” he raised his eyebrow and smiled dryly at me. I was so overwhelmed at the events of the day, that it took me a moment to realize he was making a joke. My brain was slow and sluggish, I could barely keep my eyes focused on his face, let alone, register the words he was saying.

  I tried to smile, but when I saw Drake’s frown, I realized that I failed.

  “Well, should we tell them that we time traveled from 2018 as freelancers for ancestry.com in an effort to solve a century-old mystery and we decided to take the baby back as our souvenir?” The question was supposed to be humorous but Drake’s brows furrowed and he appeared seriously concerned. Trying to lighten his mood was like trying to push a car without any gas up a hill, in a blizzard, with a broken foot! Oh yeah, and the car is filled with lead bricks. There was no place for jokes after what we witnessed and our minds were still recoiling from the bleak images we exposed them to. Considering the possibility we changed history by taking the baby, it was possible we also destroyed everything we expected to return to.

  Everything, said a nasty, ominous voice inside my head. Regardless, we couldn’t exactly go back in time and change it. No, we couldn’t go back in time again.

  “I guess we’ll just say we found her?”

  “Where?” asked Drake.

  My temples started throbbing with a headache, no doubt from the exhaustion.

  “In an alleyway?”

  Drake hesitated at first but then nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

  I slushed through the wet, gray snow and entered the gate. Drake followed close behind. We made our way to the front of the hospital. I wondered what time it was, and guessed it couldn’t have been later than seven a.m. The air was still cool from the lingering nighttime temperatures. Icy, white fog left my mouth with every exhale.

  We came to a large set of doors and Drake opened them for me. Inside, it looked nothing like any of the hospitals I knew. A dim hallway seemed to extend forever in either direction. Windows let some of the light from the outside in, but the hallway remained eerily dark. I couldn’t see anyone. Should we just leave the baby here? Someone would surely find her soon, wouldn’t they? That way, we wouldn’t have to answer any questions.

  From down the hallway, I heard voices and I turned to Drake to tell him my plan.

  “Can we just leave her here? I hear voices talking; someone’s sure to find her soon?”

  He seemed hesitant. I didn’t care much for the idea of ding-dong ditching a baby either. But as far as 1910 New York was concerned, Drake Montague and his wife didn’t even exist! The fewer people we interacted with, the better. Especially when an orphaned mystery infant was concerned.

  I looked down at Alice, sound asleep in her bundle of sheets. I wondered what kind of a life she’d have. She would never know who her mother was or why she was abandoned at a New York hospital on a fateful morning in December. It bothered me that she died without ever getting the answers she sought but I was happy for the legacy of women who succeeded her and loved her dearly. She lived a long, full life. Maybe we had something to do with it. Now, I only hoped the future we returned to was the same one we left.

  I didn’t have the heart to leave little Alice on the floor by the entrance. It was wet with trampled snow. The low lighting and emptiness made the scene look like something out of a horror movie rather than a place of recuperation and security. To be fair, I hadn’t a clue about what to expect. My introduction to early twentieth century hospitals was minimal. Everything about this was alien to me. Like Drake pointed out, I didn’t know the proper protocol for stealing babies and relinquishing them to old, scary hospitals. The voices got louder from what must have been an adjoining hallway, one that I couldn’t see from where I stood at the entrance. Two men wearing white-collared coats with high necks rounded the corner and stepped into the hallway. They were dressed entirely in white with the exception of a black bowtie tied around each of their necks. One of them was wearing spectacles.

  They looked from Drake to me, and then to the baby.

  The spectacled one spoke first as soon he was close enough, “Can we help you?”

  “Yes, um…” I stuttered.

  Drake interjected, “We found a child outside here and we don’t know whom she belongs to.”

  Even in his confident voice, the sentence sounded ludicrous. Who stumbles over a child outside a hospital? The spectacled man seemed to share my doubt. He took off his glasses and rubbed them against his white coat. Putting his glasses back on, he stepped closer to Drake and me. I tried to look as innocent as possible, but my flagging energy was already challenged and I could barely keep my legs from collapsing.

  “You found her?” he asked skeptically.

  “Yes, not far from here, in an alleyway.” My voice came out in a strange falsetto that I almost didn’t recognize. “We couldn’t just leave her there.”

  I saw the other doctor’s eyes flickering to my midsection, but it was too hard for him to see beneath the tangle of sheets I carried. I’m sure he thought the baby was mine and I was trying to get rid of her there.

  “Was anyone else there?”

  “No one that we saw…” I trailed off, our pathetic story sounding less and less true.

  The non-spectacled doctor spoke now, “What were you doing in an alleyway so early in the morning?”

  He seemed overly nosy with that question but then again, we were trying to abandon an unidentified infant. If there were an appropriate time for prying, I’m sure this would have been it.

  “Um, well,” I replied, hoping our interrogation was nearing an end. “We heard the baby crying when we were leaving our hotel and we followed the sound…”

  “Listen, we’re sorry to turn this mystery over to you, but we didn’t know what else to do. It was cold and we thought we should get her to safety. Can you please take her? Make sure she’s okay?” Drake cut in and I threw him a grateful glance.

  The doctors looked at one another. One gave us an almost microscopic nod. My shoulders dropped from their uncomfortable position by my ears. The doctor extended his hands and I transferred Alice with tenderness and care to him. With a clearer view of my midsection, the second doctor seemed to relax slightly. I calmed down too, but was still unsure if they believed us.

  “We’ll need your names and information; would you follow us please? What hotel were you staying at?”

  I blinked at him and panicked. We couldn’t exactly give our names and information! In a very short time, we would be very hard, if not impossible, to contact. I cast a worried look at Drake who seemed nonplussed.

  “The Steffield Inn,” he said. The doctor nodded, like that was exactly what one might exp
ect to find behind the Steffield Inn. I’d never heard of it but I figured it was good enough that the doctor had. I smiled stupidly, hoping my innocuous expression would mask my sense of utter uselessness.

  The doctors started down the hallway and Drake wrapped his fingers around my hand. His hand felt warm. Casting a glance back at us, the doctors proceeded. As soon as both the men were facing forward, I felt a yank before Drake was pulling me back the way we came. Our fast moving feet clacked along the hard tile flooring.

  “Hey!” came a shout from the doctors as we pushed open the entrance doors and nearly launched ourselves out into the cold morning light. Exhilarated, we ran down the snowy front path and back through the gate. I looked over my shoulder to see if they were chasing us and saw one doctor standing in the doorway. He was holding the door open, but no one ran after us.

  When we were far enough away, we rounded the corner and got into the cab as quickly as we could. I couldn’t deny my impatience while waiting for it to start up again. When it finally roared to life with a series of squeaks and grinding clanks, I let out the breath I’d been holding inside my ribcage.

  “Where to, sir?” asked the driver. I looked at Drake, a little crestfallen. There was only one place left to go.

  Home.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Judging by the surprised expression on his face, I think the remaining wad of bills we handed the driver was adequate compensation for his unflagging cooperation. He tipped his hat to us as he clambered back into his trusty vehicle and took off, the exhaust spluttering out behind him in a stream of white clouds. I watched the back of the cab somewhat forlornly, but also with a fair amount of relief. My body ached when I remembered all the places and things we’d done today. My stomach, long past the point of hunger, had been relegated to a constant state of nausea. The cold, anxious sweat I’d been living in for the last two-and-a-half days did not mix well with the fabric of my dress and my mouth tasted sour and felt dry.

  Part of me was eager to get back to something familiar. I wanted a long, hot shower and some mind-numbing television. But as I looked sideways at Drake’s dark, serious face, a deep sadness overtook all the other emotions of discomfort. My other life—my real life—seemed more like a figment of my imagination. Standing on the vibrant streets of 1910 New York, the world we intended to return to seemed drastically different, and much more like a half remembered dream.

  “I guess it’s time,” I said to Drake. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, and he didn’t say anything, but merely nodded.

  “So what do we do?” I asked, suddenly realizing that despite all of our careful preparations, we hadn’t spent enough time discussing our journey back.

  We’d been warned the longer we spent in the past, the harder it would be on me physically. That much was certainly true. I never felt more drained. I could barely find the strength to swallow anymore. I struggled to remember exactly what Christopher and Lovie had said before we left, but my mind failed to recall the conversation. It was like trying to remember a scent from your childhood that always lingers just beyond your grasp. I only wanted to sleep. My eyelids drooped but I forced them open and ignored my dry eyes when they protested.

  I didn’t know how it would work, but I knew that I still had the potion in my clutch… For a moment, I legitimately feared my heart would stop. My drooping eyelids snapped open. All other thoughts vacated my brain and a sinking panic paralyzed me. I tugged hopelessly at the pockets of my dress.

  The clutch was gone!

  A dry tickle slowly crept up my throat and I had to put my hand on Drake’s strong chest for balance.

  “What? Mon chaton, what is it?” Drake instantly spotted the change, possibly by the widening of my eyes. He took my elbow and guided me into the café we were standing in front of. It was small and non-descript, but I could barely take in any details. I sat down on the seat nearest the door and tried to steady my breathing. When was the last time I saw it or held it?

  “Peyton, what’s wrong?” he asked with a heightened intensity.

  “Drake, I think I left my clutch in the cab.” That realization made my already throbbing head scream with pain, “So we have no way of getting home!”

  In response to my fears, Drake’s expression went from worried to mildly amused. His lips turned up into a smile and his brown eyes sparkled. I didn’t see anything funny about the situation. Although part of me was relieved at the prospect of not going back; although I remembered Lovie and Christopher’s words with solemn reluctance. No one knew what might happen if the spiritual body were separated from the physical body for longer than a few days. Now we were pushing it and I might not be able to take Drake back with me. The thought of losing him was almost too much to bear. I caught my head in my hands, feeling bruised and defeated.

  Drake opened his coat, and pulled my purse out from a deep pocket in the lining. I exhaled a sigh of relief, and my wave of panic left as quickly as it arrived. But now there was something new to bother me. Having the potion now, there was nothing else to keep me from returning to my time. Overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions, the worst one surprised me. Disappointment. After that was guilt for being disappointed, but I truly was. Maybe I wasn’t ready to stop being Drake’s wife!

  “What do you think will happen if you take it in here?” Drake asked, glancing around the sparsely filled café. “Think we’ll just disappear?”

  “It’s probably better to go somewhere more private. I don’t know; I’ve never taken it before. Last time, we had Samuel to guide us.” I replied, still distracted by my clashing emotions.

  “So we don’t have to go back to where we started?” Drake asked. “We don’t have to return to the hotel room?”

  “Maybe we should,” I started.

  Drake nodded somberly and we stood up to leave the café, but I got up too fast and lost my balance. Drake caught me and I sagged against him. Wherever we went, we had to go there fast. I didn’t know how much time I had left. Drake’s face mirrored my concern.

  “I don’t think you have it in you to go much further, so the hotel is out.” He glanced around and then honed his attention on an area at the rear of the café. “It’s more private down the back,” he said, mostly to himself. Instead of leading me out the front door, Drake wrapped one of his strong arms around my waist and helped me towards the rear of the café. A few people looked up from their newspapers and coffees to eye us curiously. Drake smiled at them politely. I didn’t even have the strength to do that.

  At the back of the café, there was a small reading room that split off in two directions. To one side was a swinging door with a window that looked like it led to a rear kitchen. The other was a closed door with a broom resting on the wall beside it. Drake tried the handle of the room, which was unlocked.

  Inside was a large supply closet. Shelves filled with rags and buckets and miscellaneous jars and bottles occupied the space. There was just enough room for us to squeeze in beside a broom and a mop. Something orange and sticky stained the floor, but I didn’t care. I was beyond any ability to register disgust. Drake looked at me apprehensively, I shrugged. It would have to do. My feet and hands were prickling like pins and needles to let me know they were asleep. The rest of my body was dead weight. Although acutely aware of all my limbs, I doubt I could have moved them if I wanted to.

  It reminded me of being chased in a dream where you have to run but your limbs don’t respond so you sluggishly try to move your body. That was how I felt, and no longer in control of myself. It was a strange feeling that I was not at all fond of. We awkwardly waddled in, Drake supporting all of my weight as my numb feet shuffled uselessly beneath me. He looked quickly behind us to make sure we weren’t followed and shut the door to the closet. With the door closed, the room was shrouded in darkness. I sank to the ground, slouching against the back shelf and barely managing to keep my eyes open.

  “Almost there, Peyton. Just hang on a little bit longer,” said Drake reassuringly in the da
rk. I hated that our final moments together featured me as lifeless as the mop I leaned against. My legs were splayed out in front of me. I wished I could see Drake one last time. My eyes struggled to see in the blackness that enveloped the room. Slowly, his face came into focus, but his features remained vague.

  “Drake, what if we waited too long and you can’t come back with me?” I asked, giving voice to my biggest priority.

  “I’ll stay with you ma minette, I promise.”

  I was too tired to argue or adequately express my doubts. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but it was probably better that I was too tired to say it. The thought of waking up to Ryan made me nauseous again. I missed him and wanted to see him, but the intensity of my emotions toward Drake over the last couple of days made me feel like I would be betraying him. In more ways than one, I suppose I had. I’m sure Drake and I reached levels of intimacy Ryan would never be comfortable with—I remembered our kiss with a sharp pang of regret. The regret wasn’t because it happened, but rather for how badly I wanted it to happen again! I shut my eyes and tried to brace myself for the next onslaught of negative emotions.

  Drake shook me awake.

  “You’re almost there, mon chaton.”

  I opened my eyes again, still unable to completely make him out in the darkness of the closet. I felt his hand on mine when he handed me the potion.

  “Don’t you need to drink it too?” I asked, barely lucid.

  “Non, I don’t think so. I don’t have a physical body to return to, remember?”