by J. A. Howell
“Doubtful.” He sighed as he moved back towards the counter to grab the two cups she placed in front of us.
“Thank ya, miss.”
“Fuck off.” The girl mumbled at him with narrowed eyes before turning away.
“Did she really just tell you to fuck off?” My voice squeaked up an octave as he handed me my coffee and hastily made for the exit. He only nodded, eyes dull with exasperation as he took a sip.
“There is a nice little courtyard around the corner that we can sit at. It doesn’t usually get too windy.” He promptly changed the subject as he led me away from the coffee shop. There had not been that many patrons inside, aside from a few college students studying and a disheveled scrawny man furiously tapping away on his laptop. Still, I got the sense Nolan didn’t want to stay there and the feelings from the barista were mutual.
A few minutes later, we turned down a small winding path laid out in worn stone pavers between two large apartment buildings. Ivy stretched up the sides of each building, creeping between the bricks and cracks. Behind those apartments were two more similar buildings standing around a square. A large expanse of grass was nestled between the buildings, off in a few corners, there were benches and a gazebo. An impressive raised flowerbed with statues of angels mixed amongst the foliage stood in the center of the grassy square. Nolan led me to one of the benches near the statues and eased himself down, motioning for me to join him.
“This courtyard is bigger than the one you showed me the other day.” I looked around, watching a few passersby with their dogs yipping at their ankles.
“It’s generally quiet around this time. It’s university housing and it’s nearing time fer finals so everyone is holed up in their apartments studying.”
“Oh. It’s pretty.”
Nolan took another sip and leaned an arm across the back of the bench, pivoting his hips so he was facing me. “Listen, about the other day. I’m sorry fer yellin’ at ya like that. I was completely out of line.”
“Aggie told me about Brody.”
His posture stiffened with my words. “She did?”
“Yeah. Just that he lived there before me, and how he died.”
“Yeah,” his features softened once again, “a lot happened back then. I don’t like talkin’ about it much, and since ya came out of nowhere and had his address I was worried ya were tryin’ ta find out stuff about it. I probably sounded like an idjit. Anyway. I’m sorry and I hope ya don’t really want ta quit.”
“You’re forgiven. And Aggie already convinced me not to quit.”
“Well, glad that’s settled.” He smiled as he took another sip. We sat there quietly for several minutes and I stared up at the statues. Far away, the angels had looked graceful and calming, but from this angle, they were a bit imposing, bent over and leering at us with their wings casting shadows over the bench.
“Yer from Louisiana, aren’t ya?” Nolan spoke up, pulling my attention away from the creepy angels.
“Yes, um, why?”
“I spent a couple of summers there when I was younger.” He explained, seeing my wary expression, “I just recognized the little twang ya sometimes have.”
“I try not to broadcast my origins.” I shrugged as I took another sip of the soothing warm coffee. So far I tasted no spit, though the caramel was still suspect.
“Why is that? If ya don’t mind me asking. Ya don’t want anyone to know where yer from?” Nolan’s tone grew soft. I gulped a breath of cold air, holding it in for a moment as I tried to collect my thoughts. I turned to say something but found myself incapable of it as his eyes caught mine. They pulled at me, clouded with a curious concern and he spoke again before I could bring myself to. “It’s just, when I first saw ya, ya looked as if something had happened ta ya. Like someone had hurt ya.”
“Oh that. I got in a car accident. Nothing serious.”
“Oh,” he furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes still holding some skepticism, “I was just concerned ya might be in some sort of trouble.” I struggled not to think about the day before I’d left as his words stirred the memories. As nice as Nolan was being right now, I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was with telling him my real reasons for coming here. I struggled to grasp at something to say as we sat there in awkward silence.
“I just...I needed to escape.” I knew my words were cryptic, but the look in Nolan’s eyes seemed to convey an understanding of the general meaning behind them.
“Well, ya seem like a really nice girl, Harley. If there is something I can do ta help ya, I hope ya won’t be afraid ta ask.” He spoke earnestly as he leaned forward and his clear blue eyes held mine. Nolan’s expression possessed something equally as enigmatic as my words, a deep concern that I didn’t quite understand. I found myself lost in his gaze in the brief moment before he looked away to stare up at statues that listened silently to our candid conversation.
We both finished our coffee with very little conversation after that. I had wanted to ask him more about what had happened at the coffee shop, more about Brody, but instead I found myself wondering what exactly it was that he thought about my arrival in Midtown. What it was about my need for an escape that he seemed to understand. Ten minutes later, we both stood and headed back to the laundromat, exchanging some casual chit-chat about how things were going at the pub. When we arrived back, my clothes were dry.
“I have a little time left if you wanted to use my dryer.” I told Nolan as he pulled his clothes out of a nearby washer.
“Thanks.” He smiled. His eyes still seemed to hold that strange glimmer from the courtyard as they watched me. I quickly stuffed the rest of my clean clothes into my duffel bag, then moved out of his way after saying a quick “bye.”
“Harley, wait.” I felt Nolan's fingers grasp my shoulder gently and I spun back around to find him looking the other way as his cheeks and ears grew red. I looked down at his hand to see the strap of a black lacy bra hooked around his index finger as he held it out to me. “I think this is yours.”
“Oh! Yep, thanks.” I felt my face grow hot and hastily shoved the bra in with the rest of my laundry. As I turned to leave once more, I noticed a broad smirk spreading across his lips. After catching his unabashed admiration of my physical assets earlier, surely the sight of my C cups only added to the mental image he had going. I made a quick exit from the laundromat in an attempt to avoid further embarrassment and sharply turned the corner that led back toward my apartment. On the bright side, at least it had been cute underwear. Not the ugly ones you wore on laundry day. The ones I’m wearing now.
A few minutes later, the apartment building came into view, and an unsettled feeling churned within my stomach as it stared down at me. The ease I had felt at the laundromat and in the courtyard with Nolan vanished, leaving a haunting chill that wasn’t attributed to the cold weather. My steps slowed as I readied myself to cross the street. No cars were coming but my legs hesitated and my knees locked into place. I took in a deep breath and attempted to gather my wits. Just dreams, Harley, they are just silly dreams and you are being a big fat chicken. I did my best to rationalize with myself, but still found myself incapable of moving.
I shifted the bulging bag of laundry that was slung over my back and readjusted it as my shoulder began to ache. After several more minutes, I finally found the strength to will my legs forward.
As I reached my apartment, I could hear Remy meowing happily from within and the muscles in my shoulders eased. I was greeted by the little plump creature that came bounding toward my feet in playful hops, emitting a high-pitched “mew” each time his front paws hit the floor. I dropped the duffel bag next to the closed door then knelt down to catch Remy as he pounced at the toe of my boot.
“Hmmph, everything is fine.”
As if in retort to my words, a sudden crackling noise jarred me. I froze, still cradling the kitten in my arms as he swiped a small white paw at the dangling zipper of my jacket, blissfully unaware of anything else. The crackling started up aga
in as I stood and turned toward the noise. An oval mirror hung a few steps away in a black Victorian-esque frame. I cautiously stepped closer to it but as I neared it, again came the crackling. This time I could see a tiny fissure forming within the reflective surface, joining and splitting off from another small crack. I stood there, completely silent, holding my breath as I watched another fissure spread from the opposite side of the mirror. Then another, and another.
“That’s not possible.” My voice was defiant as I forced myself to look away from it. The crackling grew louder, taunting me as I turned my back to it. My heart thudded faster, betraying the calm exterior I was attempting to hold onto. Before I could take two more steps into the living room, I heard a louder, snapping noise, this time coming from my bedroom. Remy grew restless in my arms and wriggled himself free, leaping onto the couch as I slowly moved toward the large mirror above my dresser. My legs felt heavy and clumsy as I fought back the urge to run screaming from the apartment.
Ghosts are not real. Spirits are not real. This is not real. I repeated these things staunchly in my head. I was firm in my beliefs, after years of witnessing my mother’s pagan rituals. I’d never seen them conjure up anything. There was nothing special about the way a candle flickered and the shape its flame made when you ask a question before it. It was just a chemical reaction, burning oxygen and melting wax, not some mysterious entity trying to relay a message from another realm.
As I stood in front of the large mirror, however, what I now witnessed didn’t have any explanation. It wasn’t just a chemical reaction. Cracks spreading in the glass on their own, forming like an intricate spider web right before my eyes. A loud crack jarred me and a gash tore through the middle of the glass as if someone had slashed at it with an axe. I covered my mouth, not realizing I had screamed. I could feel goose bumps spreading over my skin as the blood seemed to drain from my face. I found my mind racing back through the many nights I had been forced to keep my mother company in her rituals and the books she made me read on the craft. She had been so hopeful that I would follow in her footsteps. I never had wanted to before, but now I found myself trying to recount things I remembered scanning over in boredom as a kid.
Cleansing. That was it.
Cleansing spells were supposed to get rid of any “energy” left over from someone before. Whatever this might be, maybe doing a cleansing would get it to stop.
I gritted my teeth and turned away from the mirror, ignoring the chill that shivered through me as the mirrors continued to hiss and crack on their own. When I opened my cabinets, my eyes searched for the spices I bought when I first moved in. Rosemary. That will work. Anything else? I flung open the refrigerator door carelessly and surveyed its contents before snatching parsley from one of the drawers.
I had at least found my mother’s book of herbs interesting. Some of them had actual medicinal properties. As for the ability to cast out anything lurking in my apartment, I wasn’t so sure. In fact, I wasn’t really certain any of this was actually happening. Just for good measure, I pinched myself hard on one arm.
Well that hurt. Guess I’m really not dreaming this time.
My thoughts knotted together as I stood there crumbling both herbs into a bowl, and a painful tightness spread into my chest. The crackling seemed to snicker at me from all directions as I tossed a match in with the herbs. I was immediately greeted with a puff of black smoke as they caught fire within the small ceramic bowl. Ignoring the slight tremble in my hand, I carried the bowl as I fanned the smoke away from me.
“Leave!” I did my best to hold a commanding tone in my voice, much like my mother did whenever she conducted her own rituals. “Get out of my apartment.” I demanded as I moved slowly through the apartment. The crackling continued as I approached the larger mirror. The surface now resembled a mosaic with its intricate network of cracks and slivers.
“Just get the fuck out of my apartment!” I growled at my own disjointed image. The bedroom light flickered, threatening further chaos, but I only repeated myself.
“Leave!” Green eyes greeted mine with an angry flicker as the lights dimmed then brightened to a blinding white. I lifted a hand to shield my face from the harsh light, but it suddenly dimmed back to a normal level. As I stared back into my own blue eyes, I noticed the crackling had stopped as well.
“Holy crap…It actually worked.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Nice Warm Bath
After a few uneventful hours, I finally managed to pull myself off the couch where I was curled up under a blanket, a watchful eye looking around the apartment and ears perked for any more unwelcome noises. Aside from the rhythmic purring coming from the furball laying on my feet, there was silence. Careful not to disturb him, I slid my feet from under his resting form before placing them on the plush carpet. In the bedroom, I grabbed some clean pajamas, avoiding the large mass of cracked glass and the sudden tightness in my chest that seemed to accompany it.
I turned the faucet on in the bathtub and plugged the drain as warm water began to fill the white porcelain. All I could think about for the last hour was taking a warm bath and going to bed. Maybe the cleansing I did actually worked. Try as I might, I had a hard time denying what I had seen. As much as I wanted to convince myself that it had all been in my head, I was questioning it more and more.
Whatever it was, it’s gone now.
My pulse slowed as I attempted to quiet the thoughts that kept creeping into my head. I undressed and dropped my clothes into a pile on the floor, then slowly eased myself down into the water. I let my back relax against the curve of the tub, emitting a soft sigh as I stretched my legs forward and submerged the rest of my body into the water.
Just what I needed, I thought, my lips curving up into a satisfied smile before the water covered my face and enveloped me in its soothing heat. I stayed underneath for a moment, letting my hair swirl weightlessly around my face, gently turning my head back and forth, enjoying the feeling as it brushed against my cheeks. All the tension from earlier felt released and non-existent as I lay in my warm cocoon. Finally feeling sufficiently relaxed, I reached my hands out of the water and gripped the sides of the tub to pull myself back to a sitting position. Just before my lips could break the surface, two large hands shoved me back down – hard.
My head smacked against the bottom of the tub and my eyes shot open as I stared up at the blurred figure that was holding me down. My hands were much smaller than his, but I grabbed at the large wrists and dug my nails into his skin as he held me under. I screamed, even knowing it was a wasted effort. Nobody would be able to hear me. I could hear my heartbeat thumping heavily through my head and chest, ready to burst as my body fought for air. My eyes were wide as I kicked and clawed, fighting to free myself as the blurred figure only pressed down harder. I was growing faint, and my vision was becoming dark around the edges. I tried to keep up the fight but my limbs became heavy and weak, my grip loosening as my hands fell away from their wrists.
Oh god, I’m going to die.
As I felt the edges of consciousness slipping away, the weight against my chest suddenly vanished. With the little strength I had left, I pulled myself to the surface, gasping and coughing as I sucked in a breath. Lightheaded and breathless, I held onto the side of the tub, my sight still blurred as silver spots danced in my vision. I frantically searched the room for the intruder and fresh tears stung my eyes as I attempted to pull my body out of the bathtub.
I flopped limply onto the floor. My arms and legs still weak and trembling as I pulled myself to my feet. Holding onto the sink for support, I wrapped a towel around me, squinting, searching for anything I could use to protect myself. A piece of what was left of the bathroom mirror was still wedged in the corner of its frame. I snatched it off, wincing as it left a small slit across the tip of my index finger.
Leaning against the wall to keep myself steady, I stumbled out of the bathroom. Silence blanketed the apartment. Everything was absolutely still. My finger
s tightly gripped the glass shard, my mind numbed to the pain as it dug into the fleshy part of my palm. I nearly lost my footing as my wet feet slipped against the parquet. Small silver beams continued to obscure my vision and a wave of nausea hit me, nearly forcing me to double over. I had grabbed a hold of the doorknob, shaky fingers twisting it open just before I heard it. Just before everything went out of focus.
“I’m right here!”
It was just after 3 AM when the squad car pulled into the alleyway behind Finley's. I don't know why I had blurted out the pub's name when they asked me if I had somewhere to go, but I did. Now, here I sat, in the back of a squad car, in the clothes I'd had on the day before. My damp hair clung to my cheeks and my neck as Remy meowed cheerfully in my lap. I wished I was as calm and collected as him. When the engine cut off I slumped back against the worn pleather seat, regretting whatever brain cells had made me say this place.
The windows above were dark. Finley's had closed an hour ago. There was no way Nolan was still awake. He had already played babysitter to me one night, now here I was about to beg to stay over again. I looked down at Remy and he blinked up at me in the dark of the car, his little eyes catching a beam of light from a flickering street lamp. He squeaked out another “mew” as if to check on me before purring and nibbling at the bandage on my hand.
I watched as the older officer climbed out of his seat and hobbled toward my door grumbling to himself. Every single one of the officers I had dealt with after waking up in the hallway of my apartment building had been nothing short of rude. Nobody had believed my claims. Someone must have been in the apartment with me, someone tried to drown me in my own tub. But there were no signs of forced entry and nobody was seen leaving my apartment. According to the neighbors that found me, I was lying on the floor outside of my door barely covered by my towel, face down and mumbling “I’m right here!” over and over.
