Grey October (East Hollow Chronicles)

by Charlotte Munro

  ‘Well, you’re not wearing any lipstick.’ I point an accusing finger, still behind a broad smile, ‘and you have a very rigid perception of me already, and as you have said to me before. You don’t even know me.’

  ‘Do I even want to?’

  ‘If you didn’t, would you be here?’ I have her, right there, trapped in a corner, barb wire holding her in, my presence suffocating her. Elli drops her head, eyes staring into the remains of her cappuccino and the crust of her pie. So much for light conversation.

  ‘I want to try and listen to them. I do... But…’ her words are murmuring, whispering into the buzz of Devil’s Delight. Though even through the orders being shouted, the laughter at the front of the store, I can hear her heartbeats thudding against her chest and hear her whispered words. My eyes pierce her, they meet hers and within seconds I can see everything on her mind, like a labyrinth I run through, finding more and more things that harm her, that darkens her sweet innocence.

  ‘You think that moving on will tarnish her memory. You want to, you want to step out of that shadow but then you don’t. You feel safe in her shadow, you feel like Ellison, your sister’s sister, but not Ellison, not Elli.’ My fingers curve around the fork, brushing my fingertips against the grain of the silver, leaving hot imprints upon the utensil.

  ‘You have dreams of your own, you’re just afraid to follow them. You want to be as perfect as your sister, but Elli, Ellison, you are something, someone completely different.’

  ‘How do you… how can you even…’ her words fall, uncoordinated and confused, as are her widened eyes. Reading her too well, it is a downfall of mine – never probe someone’s mind and let them know what they’re thinking, especially in the human world. I lean back into the hard wood chair, leaning my head back and staring up at the ceiling, noting every little curvature of the wood grain, every little dust web that has been overlooked in a corner.

  ‘I’ve a great guess.’ I tear myself down from the attraction from the ceiling, to catch a glimpse of the girl again, quite expecting her to be halfway across the store, but instead, she sits back, back so straight against the chair, rigid and nervous, but her eyes, they look at me with a slight tilt in her head. As if, she too, is wondering why she hasn’t run away yet.

  ‘You’re the first to ever think that.’ She rolls her tongue over her lips, picking up the cappuccino and drinking the remains, coating her nervously chapped lips before continuing.

  ‘I’m saving every penny I can to buy the house of Madi’s dreams. But every time I put the money away, I think of what I really want to do with it.’

  ‘Which is?’ I ask, I do not conceal my genuine interest, it brightens my blue eyes and lines my face with a curious and gentle smile.

  ‘I want to buy half of Beaumont Antiques. I know it’s silly, but I love it there, I love Charlie and most of all, I love the antiques. I enjoy just sitting in the dusty backroom, rifling through the boxes we get, finding things that have old memories, stories to tell.’ She looks up, after placing her cup down. I can tell she thinks a great deal of the greying man and the dusty old store. Her eyes glisten with a newfound appreciation, and her lips are smooth when they form into a smile, a genuine, meaningful smile. I cannot help but feel my hollow insides tweak. She is so unlike her sister. Not a selfish bone in this one’s body.

  ‘It’s silly, I know. I don’t expect someone like you to understand.’ I think she notices her poor word choice and her hand finds her mouth, ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

  ‘You have your own dream, but you want something else. Elli, I can see that, I can understand that.’ I pause, dropping my own gaze, conscious very much now of her staring at my face, trying desperately to read me like I can read her, but I put up a face, surround myself with walls built of iron and steel. Impenetrable.

  ‘At least you can follow your own dream. Mine is paved for me in iron. Something I cannot alter.’

  That’s enough of showing a side of you, Evan, that’s enough. I demand, I curl my fingers into my palm, balling them into fists and dropping them into my lap, by the time I lift them again, my rings have left indentations.

  That’s enough of showing a human the side that no one knows. That’s enough.

  Ellison –

  His silence is different, even more nerve-wracking, and tenser than him being all alluring and strangely drawing me in with his mystery. I move my finished plate to the side of the table and place my hands, knotted together directly in front of me; this movement makes him lift his fallen head, and quirk his mouth into one of those sly smiles. But still he is silent. His eyes, so hauntingly beautiful, they are marked with a great pain, something I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. At first he gives the impression of being a spoiled Prince, a womanising guy, just like all the rest. But no, Evander, Evan, he seems so much different, so much more than just another guy, just another spoiled brat from noble lines. He sees me, he sees everything behind my eyes and even though I do not know how, I find it quite comforting, to know that someone feels the same. Someone can see what I want to show, but am too scared to.

  ‘A strong metal can yield to fire.’

  ‘What?’ he tilts his head, the way he does it reminds me of a confused puppy; unsure of something, yet fascinated. It’s cute. I feel a flush rise to my cheeks, already glowing rose from sitting opposite him and having his stare linger, it warms my face as I speak, trying to scramble over my thoughts, biting the inside of my cheek.

  ‘The iron path, if you have a great passion, a fire inside of you, then it can yield to whatever you want.’

  ‘You have words of wisdom, you should listen to them yourself, sometimes.’ He says, his smile returning, but not as broad and not so beaming, it is as though he is fighting off something inside of himself. I glance up to the door, just above it, is the clock, ticking time away minute by minute, the seconds faster and faster. I have been talking to Evan, have shared his company for nearly the space of my elongated lunch break. And it doesn’t even feel like a few minutes have past.

  ‘Back to work?’ he does not even turn his head to find the time, he pushes back his chair and it grates against the tiled floor and gives me goose bumps. He makes me feel as though I’ve said something wrong, something to push him away. In my mind, I hear Liv screaming at me, tell him about Avalon. Bring his friends. Tell him. Tell him. I push her demands to one side and pile his plate atop mine; he has not even eaten his, just dissected the strawberries from the slice, piled them on one side and piled the chocolate chunks on the other. Very obsessive compulsive.

  ‘Unfortunately.’ It’s not a yes and it’s not a no. It is as Jade would call it, a way of letting him know that I enjoyed the time and would do it again. How complex things are made, how complex just a simple conversation seems. It would be so much easier to just say, Meet me at Avalon tonight, meet me there and we can have a bit more of your fun.

  His sort of fun, I dread to think. I feel a shiver run along my spine as I get up and have Evan’s hand engulf my shoulder, his touch is so warm, so blistering. It makes me feel the complete opposite. He feels feverish, yet looking at his face, his brow, no sweat beads, and no sign of ill health. Olivia would say he runs hot, because he is so damn hot. Too much, far too much of Liv in my head.

  ‘Walk me back to work?’ my voice betrays what I had originally intended; I wanted to sound just as alluring, just as charming, but my words fumble and falter. So nervous, so unbelievably nervous. Madison would easily take his arm and walk out of the shop, laugh in her giddy, flirty way. Flip her lovely waves in that perfect way, and I’m sure that even Evan would falter at her feet.

  ‘Alright.’ His voice is not as bright, not as luminous as it had been. Another sign, another nudge that somewhere I have done something wrong. I shake my head, watching him move out of the store with swift and graceful strides. Running away from me, which makes me laugh inside, a real awkward tumult. At the beginning I felt like running away from him, now our roles have altered. Outs
ide of the door he waits, standing by the side of the doorway he brushes my shoulder with his arm as I head past, a sudden, brash way, but there, upon his lips I see a twist of a smile and all my doubts settle, for now.

  Liv and Jade, even Madi had made this look so easy, so simple. But the closer I walk with him, the more he talks, the more I find out about him, the more nervous I feel. And the stronger that thread tugs at me, and the brighter those dreams feel in my mind, flashing occasionally as we walk from Devil’s Delight to Beaumont Antiques. When he turns his head, settling those eyes upon me with a question, I have to double take, and push those images far, far out of my mind.

  ‘Do you get many... Darker artefacts, like this?’ he lifts his thumb and the red stone in the pentagram ring glistens beneath the fluorescent light above.

  ‘Like Demonic things?’ my hand finds my mouth, silencing the silly things. Who cares if he likes darker, demonic things? That doesn’t make him a bad person, his attitude might, his arrogance, but not his taste in clothes or objects. ‘I mean, like those rings?’

  ‘Anything with, as you say, a demonic air.’ he laughs, ‘but yes, if you get anything else, like this, please do tell me.’

  ‘Alright.’ I nod, remembering his request, drilling it into my brain. Darker things. Darker objects. Demonic things, gothic style. ‘It suits you.’

  ‘The ring?’ he raises a brow.

  ‘No, your style.’ I add, just as I find Beaumont’s door and wrap my hand around the gold painted door knob, with my back to him, fighting Liv’s words in my head.

  Avalon. Tell him to meet us at Avalon. And bring his friends.

  ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Yeah… soon.’

  When I turn back to wave, to say goodbye, he is gone. All in his place is a dark bit of fluff on the floor. I bend down, crouching low to pick it up and in my hand I study it.

  A feather. A black feather. I didn’t notice him wearing anything with feathers on. I shrug, slipping the feather into my jean pocket and stepping into the antique store, the familiar ding of the bell, resounding in my mind.

  ‘You’re back?’ Charlie asks, he is dusting a few of the ornamental busts on one of the larger cabinets, looking down from his teetering step ladder with a risen grey eyebrow and a broad, beaming smile. ‘How did you get on?’

  I chuckle, my laughter silencing him. I say no more and find my way into the back room, to sift through one of the boxes I had started this morning. I am certain there was a gothic style chain somewhere in there, or was it a ring?

  ***

  The room is filled with burning lavender and sweet rose – the incense clouding the front hall with a haze of distinct scent and twists of smoke. Fanning a hand in front of my face, so that I can see, I manage to step inside, letting out into the corridor a stream of smoke, before closing the door behind me with a sharp thud.

  From the living room and up the hall, the cloud of rose and lavender leads me, spiralling in front of my face, wafting further and further through the halls and the bedrooms (I am pleased I closed my door this morning.) I duck and dodge the grey clouds of smoke and strong floral essence, while waving my hand in front of my face.

  ‘What are you trying to do, smoke out rats?’ I cough out, inhaling a strong rose aroma; it claws at the back of my throat with a sickly sweet and rich smoky taste. I drop my bag by the door adjacent to the hall and living room. It’s a cupboard filled with old bedding and worn blankets. Olivia had called it her ‘hotel cupboard’, just in case any of her friends decided to crash one night, they could use some old linen.

  I step inside the living room and am assaulted by more smoke, more lavender and now the aroma of scented candles, flickering on the bureau. The flame dancing beside the stereo that is playing the gentle sound of crashing waves against a beach, the rustle of trees swaying in the wind, the gentle sound of distant gulls. Far more suited for a night-time relaxation than an evening where they would be getting ready to go to the club.

  ‘Jade?’ I call out, waving away another wisp of smoke that plumes around my face, all I breathe in is rose, the sharp sweetness bringing back memories of Madison and her fondness of roses. Roses in her hair, roses in the garden, dried rose petals in baskets around the house. Roses on her grave…

  ‘Liv?’ I call out again, nearing the table with burning incense and wavering tea candles, bending down and blowing the source out. The last remains of wafting smoke dying out by spiralling to the ceiling and dissipating, in a cloud of purple and red. Passing the stereo I turn the volume dial right down until it switches off, trying to catch any footsteps, any voice through the fog of incense.

  ‘In here!’ I catch Liv’s voice coming from the kitchen, and through the haze that remains, I navigate myself to the doorway. I hover between the doorjamb and catch a glimpse of both Liv and Jade perched on top of the countertops, their feet dangling over the edge, knocking by the lower cupboards.

  ‘Warding off evil or something?’ I ask, looking once more at both and then back to the dying smoke spirals from the candles, and the now silent apartment. The duo stay perched upon the counters, but I see Liv’s lips tug into a grimace as Jade answers me.

  ‘A guy in Liv’s class said she is too highly strung.’

  ‘The nerve!’ Olivia screeches, jumping down from the counter, waving her own hand to ward off the last few lavender tainted clouds.

  ‘He says I am too abrupt, too forward, and far too loud.’ Staring at her pacing the kitchen floor, hands flying up to her face and her muttering something else incoherently, I am inclined to agree, but just smile at my friend’s disorder instead.

  ‘You’ve never cared before – what is choking yourself with incense and depressing music going to do to help with that anyway?’ I ask, looking to Jade and then back to Liv, who is balling her hands into fists and thumping them against the countertop, sending droplets of orange juice from her glass, bouncing out and rolling along the surface.

  ‘It’s meant to relax her.’ Jade informs me, but Liv turns herself from the counter and faces me, rising onto the balls of her feet

  ‘The teacher agreed. She said my soufflés will never be perfect if I am like this.’ She rubs her temples in a circular motion, trying in vain attempts to rid the tension headache that I am sure will follow any moment now. Her eyes change though, they narrow upon me and she points a black nail to the box I’m holding; the one from Devil’s Delight, which I had forgotten I have in my grasp.

  ‘What’s that?’ her black eyebrow arches and she takes a few steps forward, intrigued.

  ‘I bought it for you two. I thought it might help you improve yours.’ Handing her the red and black striped box, I realise what I have said, by the lack of smile on her face and add, ‘Not that yours need much improvement.’

  ‘When did you go there?’ Jade asks, slipping off the countertop and dropping to her feet.

  ‘On my lunch break, Evan came by and—‘

  ‘Evan?’ both of Jade’s eyebrows knit together, just before Olivia half chokes, half splutters on a mouthful of croissant.

  ‘As in Princely guy Evan?’

  ‘Yeah. Strange, isn’t it?’ I add, affirming my words, but they fall upon deaf ears, Liv is tearing half the croissant and handing it to Jade before propping the box on the side and turning to me, amid chewing.

  ‘Strange. This is good by the way.’ She points to the half-eaten croissant in her grasp, while Jade smiles a beam of perfect teeth and glossed lips.

  ‘How did he know you worked there?’

  ‘Funny. Conspiracies, aren’t they?’ I say, only to be cut off by Liv, waving her free hand at me, her other popping the end of the pastry in her mouth,

  ‘Does that mean he’s bringing his friends to Avalon?’

  ‘I didn’t ask him.’ I state.

  ‘Didn’t ask him to bring his friends, or didn’t ask him at all?’ her eyes are accusing, deliberating, cogs and wheels working behind them, concocting a plan of some kind.

  �
��I didn’t ask him at all.’ I match her emphasis, only to see her shoulders droop and her hand reach for her head again.

  ‘You’ll never learn.’

  ‘Well maybe he’ll turn up. There’s not much to do in East Hollow. Avalon’s the place to be.’ Jade adds, only to walk over with a questioning tilt of her head, noticing my silence and my pursed lips, and fumbling hands knitting with the edge of my blouse.

  ‘You’re not going?’ Olivia pushes herself away from the counter, so she is standing right in front of me, so much so that she overshadows Jade. ‘You can’t go on a date with the guy and then just not continue. What did he do? Was he not what we thought?’

  ‘He is fine. He was not at all like we thought – he is better.’ I pause, to watch my friends with their baited breath and glistening eyes, I turn my back and step out into the living room.

  ‘So you’re going to leave him for some floozy?’ Liv never mixes her words, as she chases me into the living room with a risen eyebrow and a creased brow.

  ‘I have a bag of things I need to evaluate for Charlie. I said I could get a look at prices online—‘

  ‘You work far too much Elli, you need another night out.’ Jade is agreeing with Liv, and I have two against one, their eyes boring holes into me as I scoop up my bag, thumbing the handle with agitated fingers. Holding back the want to simply agree, dress myself to the eyeballs and join them, secretly hoping to see him there. But part of me is uncertain, part of me is still thinking just how can I enjoy myself without Madison?

  ‘Maybe another night. Sorry girls.’

  Evander –

  The lights pulse above me, flashing blue, red and green; the electrical burr coming from the speakers all the way around the room fills me with a throb of energy. But I know better than to think it’s the music or the strobe lights. It’s the emotions that fuel me here, humans with their happiness, their drunkenness, every little slither of emotion pulses through my veins. Their blood is my blood, their excitement mine as well. No, not that part. My excitement is far from theirs. Absorbing a soul, transporting it into a small vial, signing contracts with a droplet of blood – that is my excitement. This life in East Hollow, my second life, as a human, this is my excitement.