Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  “Oh, he’s crazy alright.” Chelsea nodded. “And scary as hell.”

  Rowena paused and shook her steely gray head. “But if the Inbetween gets ahold of a live soul, especially one like ours, it wants to take it, squeeze the life right out of it, smother it. It’d be like a shining bright light. Living souls, they have a glow. Yours will be even brighter.” Her eyes darted around the room, and she whispered, “But there’s another place, and it’s evil.”

  Chelsea bit her lip. She’d never been the religious type, but after visiting the Inbetween, she was pretty sure Hell existed, and now she was being told there was somewhere worse.

  “The Watchman’s supposed to gather the souls to him. He’s supposed to cross them, guide them on their journey. Sounds like you interrupted his job.” She grinned at Chelsea. “I imagine he was right cross about that.”

  Chelsea stood and wandered around the room, some would call it a parlor. Most of the furniture was made of juniper and rowan, some looked like second hand purchases, some homemade. Everything was worn and well used, but lovingly maintained. It was all important to the owner, and each told its own story. “You could say he was upset. He left me to the souls. So much hunger, so much pain. I wanted to help them, but didn’t know how. It was all I could do to get away. I almost didn’t,” she whispered.

  “The only way is to get them to follow the Watchman’s light. Some refused him, think they can return to the living.” She watched Chelsea move around the room, picking up knickknacks, looking at pictures. “You seen any ghosts?”

  Rowena’s boldness took Chelsea by surprise, and she almost dropped the small glass thimble she held in the palm of her hand; it looked like Peter Pan’s kiss. She placed it back on the table. “I’ve seen a few since I left the hospital.” She swallowed, twisting her hands. “One was a police officer, and one … well, she was the aunt of a friend of mine.”

  “Did they meet violent ends?” Rowena continued to watch Chelsea, eyes narrowed.

  “The police officer did, he died out on Route 29, he wanted me to call his wife, tell he’d see her soon, and he was okay. The other was a drowning victim, she was alone when it happened. She slipped and knocked herself out, drowned in her own pond.”

  “You be careful with those spirits, foretellers of the future. Help them if you can. And your friend, she probably didn’t die from an accident — it was probably by someone else’s hand.” Rowena sounded so sure, it made Chelsea take a step back.

  “I’m having my friend check into it. When she came to me, she said something that … well … ” Chelsea shuddered, but didn’t finish what she was thinking — what if she was wrong?

  “And then you dreamed of the Inbetween? Did anything happen before it? I mean, besides the visions starting,” Rowena wondered out loud.

  “Not really, but I’ve been afraid to sleep since.” Chelsea pinked a little and laughed. “I’m afraid it will happen again.”

  “Girl, you got to rest, can’t let it scare you. Can’t let your fears control you either. Besides, all you have to do is wake up.” Rowena smiled at her like it was easy.

  “Yeah, sure.” Chelsea gave a hollow laugh. “Have you ever tried to escape a bad dream? It isn’t so easy, believe me.”

  Rowena chuckled. “Well, you can always sleep with a partner.” Her eyes danced mischievously.

  Chelsea’s cheeks pinked again. “I’m thinking about that too.”

  “That’s about all I know of the Inbetween.”

  Chelsea glanced up. “What about the other place? It’s worse?”

  “The Nevernever, it’s the other place.” Rowena blanched. “It’s a very bad place. I don’t even like thinking about that place, not at all, and you shouldn’t either. Don’t dwell on it, girl.” She coughed again and her face turned a sickly shade of pasty gray.

  “Are you okay?” Chelsea asked, concerned all the memories, all the talking about the improbable had brought Rowena discomfort.

  “Just the pains. Need to take my medication. It comes and it goes, more coming than going these days.” She reached across the table to a small shelf. “Could you get me a glass of water? The kitchen’s right through there.” She pointed passed the living room and down a hall.

  As Chelsea made her way to the kitchen, she heard murmuring behind her. She turned, but no one was there. She peeked back at Grams and Rowena, they sat where she’d left them, sitting several feet apart. It couldn’t have been them either. She looked around the room and hall, then she shrugged. With everything going on, her imagination was in overdrive. Or at least she hoped it was only her imagination … Her life had turned into a nightmare and she was afraid it was going to swallow her whole.

  Chelsea returned with the water, and Rowena took a small sip, swallowing her medication.

  She waited a few heartbeats while her pain receded. “Now, the Nevernever … ” Rowena started and drew a ragged breath, her hand shaking a little as she ran it over her face.

  “Look, if you don’t want to talk anymore … ” The murmuring was back. Chelsea looked around, pushed her shoulder up against her ear.

  “No, I made a promise. I need to keep it while I can. Come, sit down. Let’s finish this.” Rowena pointed to a chair, and Chelsea sat, waiting to hear what she had to reveal, but the murmuring grew louder.

  “Do you hear that?” she asked the older women.

  “Hear what, honey?” Grams asked.

  “It sounds like voices from another room.” Chelsea started to feel paranoid, like someone stood, watching, over her shoulder. She twisted around and checked just to make sure. “Do you mind?” She pointed to the other room.

  “No, you go right ahead.” Rowena frowned. “But there’s no one here except me, you, and your grandmama here.”

  “Oh, must be my imagination, or maybe my brain is really fried.” She laughed, embarrassed.

  “Girl, it’s fine, go check, it’ll let you rest,” Rowena urged her.

  Chelsea rose to her feet, and left the room while her grandmother watched. She checked the small bedroom to the left, a bathroom to the right, and the murmuring grew louder. She clasped her hands over her ears. “Please stop!” And it did.

  She returned to the living room. “It was nothing, you’re right.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Grams inquired.

  “Yeah.” But Chelsea shook her head and she sat on her hands. She couldn’t make them quit shaking. “Go ahead, tell us what you were going to say.”

  Rowena gazed at her long and hard. “You heard it, didn’t you?”

  “I heard something, but it’s gone. It’s okay now.”

  “Then why are you shaking so bad?”

  Chelsea looked down at her quivering arms. Even her stomach felt jumpy.

  “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

  “It’s the afterworld, it’s calling you. Could be a spirit, could be … well, it could be anything.” Rowena coughed again. “I better get on with it.”

  Chelsea frowned — the murmuring was back. “Please, I think whatever is in the afterworld doesn’t want me to talk to you. The murmurs, they’re back. It sounds like so many voices, all talking at once.”

  “They don’t want you to know what you’re up against, dirty buggers.” Rowena took a breath and coughed again. “The Nevernever is a place where lost souls get trapped. They’re souls unable to move on for some reason. Either they’re holding on to their mortal existence or being held to the mortal world by something.” She shivered. “Not all things in the afterworld are good, some things are bad, very bad. If they get ahold of you, you’ll never escape them. No waking up, no more living.” Rowena coughed again, harder this time.

  “The Nevernever is a place where the dark things stay, they can drink in the energy of the lost, eat their light, absorb what’s left of them.
There’s things in the Nevernever that can murder what’s left of the soul, never to be reborn, never to reach that place where others have found peace. It’s horrible being used up by those things, to feed their sickness.” Rowena winced, and a shudder shook her body.

  She took another sip of her water before she continued. “It’s like an addiction, those dark things that live off other souls’ energy,” she said. “They encourage your nightmares. Fear drives them, they’ll squeeze every last drop of it from your body, they’ll try to pluck it right out of your thoughts.” Her gloved hands reached out to snatch an invisible foe from the air. She turned, reached for Chelsea’s hand with her gloved ones. “If you ever find yourself with those things, the only thing that might save you is good memories, the happiest ones in your life. You listen to me, girl. You make sure you remember.” She shivered. “To be trapped there is a fate worse than death.” She coughed again, this time with a longer spasm before she could catch her breath.

  Rowena wheezed, “I think that’s all I can tell you. The rest you’ll have to figure out on your own.” She moved closer to Chelsea, resting her hand on her knee for a moment. “I wish there was more, I wish I could stay longer, make sure you’re okay. But the Lord has other plans for this old body of mine.” Rowena coughed again, moving away, her head fell back against the sofa, exhausted.

  Chelsea opened her bag, removed a small card, and scribbled on it. “Here, take this card. It’s a friend of mine’s, Brad Rearden, but I put all my contact information on it. If you can’t get ahold of me, call him. He’ll be able to put you in contact with me or my lawyer.”

  Rowena took the card, and held it to her chest. “I’ll make sure June Mary’s mama keeps it safe.”

  “It’s not only for her. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me.” Chelsea smiled at the older woman, afraid that the doctors were right. She dropped down to eye level and took Rowena’s gloved hand between her own. “Thank you so much for everything. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  “Girl, you listen to this old woman, and take care of yourself. Your Great-Granny be’d right proud of you.” She cupped Chelsea’s face. “You’re the spitting image of her, you know. If you need anything else, I’ll be hanging around here a while longer. I’m not done yet. Maybe I’ll get to do a reading for you.”

  Chelsea laughed. “I don’t know if I want everyone to know my secrets, or even if I want to know them. But we’ll see, maybe someday.”

  • • •

  Brad watched Chelsea walk circles around the room, talking about everything Rowena had told her.

  “What if I can’t do this, and there’s no place left to find the answers?” Her eyes showed how scared she was.

  Brad caught her hand, stopping her momentum. “You need to relax, come here.” He spread his legs, and she sat between them. He lifted her hair to the side, bent her head forward, and ran his fingers up and down the length of her neck. “You’re all knotted up.”

  “I know, but I can’t relax, I can’t … .” she yawned even as she spoke. “That does feel … wonderful.”

  He massaged her neck, and she sighed, her head nodding. “You’re going to make yourself sick, worrying about all this.” His fingers moved lower, along her spine. Brad leaned in and pulled her back to sit on his lap, then he gathered his arm beneath her legs and stood. “Bedtime for you.”

  “But you’ll stay?” She asked sleepily, her hands groping to entwine his neck. Her head rested in the hollow made by his throat and his shoulder.

  He bent his head, softly kissing her lips. “For as long as you’ll have me,” he whispered.

  But Chelsea already slept.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chelsea watched as Brad drove away. He had to work, and to do so, he had to return to Springfield. But he promised to return in the evening. Grams was going to have another canasta night, so she wouldn’t be home until the next afternoon.

  Chelsea stood in the living room. She could hear the buzzing again, like bees stuck in her ears. She knew what it was now, but she wondered who was coming to visit her. She wanted to ask, but she felt stupid talking to the air.

  “Is anyone there?” Silence filled the room as she stood looking around. Grendel came out from under the sofa and twined around her legs.

  “There you are, you’ve been hiding. I thought you liked Brad.” She scooped up the cat and carried her to the kitchen with her. She filled her bowl and set it on the floor. “Silly cat.”

  “Can I pet your kitty?” came a soft voice, and Chelsea spun around, hardly noticing that the buzzing had stopped.

  Before her stood a little boy. She dropped down on her knees in front of him. “Hi, I’m Chelsea.” She smiled as she reached out into chilled air around him. “I don’t know if Grendel will let you pet her or not. She’s kind of skittish, you know.” She grinned again at him and he smiled back. She took his chilled hand in her own. Together, they stroked the cat’s soft fur while she purred, eating her tuna.

  “She’s funny.” The little boy laughed. “So soft.”

  “What’s your name, little man?” Chelsea asked quietly while they stroked the cat. “Why are you here?”

  “My name’s Bobby, and I’m eight and three quarters.” When he smiled again, she noticed he was missing a front tooth, and Chelsea caught her breath. No one had said anything about little kid ghosts.

  “I was wondering … ” he said, his eyes never leaving the soft fur of tabby cat’s body. “I was wondering if you could call my mom. Tell her where I am, and that I’m okay. She cries all the time now. I don’t want her to cry.” Bobby looked at Chelsea, his eyes brimmed sadness. She could only nod her head.

  “Were you in an accident?” she asked gently.

  “Nope, I was in the hospital. I’ve been sick a real long time, but I’m better now. I feel fine.” He smiled up at her. Kids were so quick to rebound, even from heartache, even from death.

  “Who’s your mommy, sweetie? What’s your last name?” She reached out, finger combing his short brown hair away from his forehead.

  “It’s Kolwalski, Robert Daniel Kolwalski. My mom’s name is Cindy. Can you call her for me?”

  “How about we see if she’ll come here? Are you from around here?” she asked quietly.

  His eyes grew wide. “I don’t know. Where are we?”

  “Taylorville, Illinois,” Chelsea told him.

  “I think we live pretty far away.” He stood straighter.

  Chelsea’s heart fell, she was going to have to try to do this over the phone. “Do you remember your phone number?”

  “Sure I do, I’m not a baby, I’m a big kid.”

  “Sorry, I forgot.” Chelsea smiled and he recited his phone number.

  She picked up her cell and called the number. It rang without an answer. She looked over at the boy beside her. “Maybe she couldn’t get to it in time, I’ll try again.” She pushed redial, and it rang twice more before a watery voice answered. Chelsea cringed. It was the last thing she wanted to do, invade someone’s personal pain.

  “Mrs. Kolwalski?” she enquired.

  The watery voice cleared itself. “Yes, may I ask who’s calling? I don’t recognize the number.”

  “Ma’am, my name’s Chelsea … ”

  “Look, if this is a sales call, I really don’t want to talk to anyone.” The phone clicked in Chelsea’s ear.

  She bit her lip and pushed redial again.

  “Please leave me alone.” Chelsea could hear the tears in the woman’s voice. “I’ve … I’ve had … ” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry, I just can’t talk right now.”

  “Ma’am, I know about your loss, that’s why I’m calling.”

  “Who is this again? Do I know you?”

  “No ma’am, I’m sorry, you don’t. I wish you did, it wou
ld make this easier. I just wanted to call and tell you how sorry I am.” Chelsea didn’t know how to tell her that her son, Bobby, stood in her kitchen.

  “Thank you. Now, I really have to go.”

  “Ma’am, there’s one more thing.” She decided to just jump in and say what she had to say. “Bobby wanted me to call you. He said you’re sad all the time now. He wants you to know he’s fine, he feels all better now. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” She smiled at the boy as he watched her face. “He wants you to take care of yourself and he loves you. He wants you to be happy again.”

  Bobby nodded and smiled his toothless grin.

  “Mrs. Kolwalski?” But there wasn’t any response. “I’m going to go now, Mrs. Kolwalski. Bye.” Chelsea pushed end. It had taken all of twenty seconds to place the call.

  “I hope that helps your mom.” She dropped back down on her knees, bringing them eye to eye. “If you need anything else, you know where I am, okay?”

  “Okay, thanks for letting me pet your cat. I gotta go now. See you later,” he called before he walked away, vanishing into thin air as he left.

  Chelsea’s eyes spilled over with tears. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. He was just a baby.

  Grendel stared up at her, her cat eyes wide, and she mewled. Chelsea picked her up, and said between the tears, “You’re a good kitty.” She stroked her velvety fur, and the little cat purred, and that’s how Brad found them, sitting on the sofa, Chelsea crying over the tabby cat and Grendel letting her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “What happened?” Brad asked, taking the cat from her hands. Grendel meowed up at him. Chelsea’s emotion still flooded the room.

  “I … I … ” She looked up to find his eyes. “I had company today. A little boy.” Her lips quivered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I want to do this.”

  Brad picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He undressed her and slid the sheet over her body, then he climbed in beside her. He pulled her into his arms, brushed her hair back for her tear-stained face. He kissed her eyes, puffy and red, and her shiny nose, then her cheek, raw and chapped. “Sweetheart, talk to me, tell me all about it. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer your cell.”