The Invocation

by Carl Alves

“Of course, Mia wants us to talk to him,” Kenna replied. “If she didn’t, then she wouldn’t have told us, right?”

  Ben didn’t respond.

  “Good. It’s settled. We’ll contact Mark.”

  This was much better than the last time they had chatted with Mia. She wasn’t in danger. Nothing crazy had happened at the end of their conversation, and they had a chance to help her. Then why did Kenna feel this tugging inside of her, suggesting everything was all wrong?

  Chapter VI

  Jake never realized how frustrating it could be to teach new students how to fight. Maybe it was because fighting came easy to him, or perhaps his students didn’t have his dedication. He had been a gym rat growing up. Every day after school, he used to hang around Joe Renken, trying to absorb his knowledge. Whenever someone needed a sparring partner, he volunteered, no matter how overmatched he was. He pumped iron, worked on his cardio, whatever he could do to get better. Fighting was in his blood. His grandfather had boxed professionally in his youth, and his father had made his mark in the Golden Gloves scene but had never gone any further than that. For as long as he could remember, Jake had been driven to develop his fighting skills and learn all he could about the art of combat.

  His students wanted to become black belt level fighters without putting in the time training. Lawrence Crawford was the biggest pain in the ass in the bunch. A businessman who worked as a financial planner, he came to the gym wearing a three-piece suit before changing into expensive, designer gym wear. Lawrence dominated Jake’s time, insisting he teach him advanced techniques like a triangle choke, even though he couldn’t do something simple like throw a proper front kick.

  Lawrence had about six inches and fifty pounds on Jake. The first time they had worked together, he got the impression that Lawrence thought he could use his size advantage to dominate Jake, but his attitude quickly changed after Jake repeatedly put him on his ass with judo throws.

  He tried to explain to Lawrence that the best way to learn was to start with the basics, but the man wouldn’t listen. Jake had suggested he sign up for private lessons. At least that way, he wouldn’t commandeer everyone’s time. “Listen, we’ll work on this during our next session. This is a process. You can’t build a house before you lay a foundation. In order for you to advance and improve, you need to get your fundamentals down first. Practice kicking on the heavy bag. That way you can leave with something positive from today’s class.” Before Lawrence could put up an argument, Jake walked away.

  Later that evening, Jake was scheduled to train with a highly skilled Muay Thai fighter Renken had brought in to help him with his first match after his incarceration-induced layoff. Jake had five regular training partners, but Renken wanted to bring in someone specialized to help prepare for his fight. His choice puzzled Jake, who had expected him to bring in a strong wrestler since his opponent had been a standout collegiate wrestler and the captain of his wrestling team, but Renken had told him his ground skills were already strong, and he needed to work on his striking, defying conventional wisdom in not training with someone who would mirror his opponent. The fight was three weeks away, and he had to bust his ass to prepare for it.

  Jake put the students in groups of two and three, so they could spar. The floor of the classroom was lined with red and black mats. Mirrors covered one wall. At each of the corners were heavy bags. In another room was the cage Jake used to train for his mixed martial arts bouts. There was also a room in the facility with weights and cardio machines. Generally, he did his fight preparation in some of the smaller rooms in a more intimate setting as opposed to the large studio this class was being held at.

  A loud cry echoed across the dojo. He turned around to find Robin, a petite red head who didn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds, on the floor clutching her chin. Tim Wingate stood above her wearing a big smile.

  Lawrence might be a pain in the ass, but Wingate was a total asshole. He was a typical ex-jock and bully who came into the gym thinking he was a tough guy and picked on the smallest, weakest person he could find. In this case, it was Robin, who had spunk but was about half his size.

  Jake made his way over to her, knelt, and lifted her head off the mat. “You okay?”

  Robin nodded. She had a busted lip but otherwise looked fine.

  “Why don’t you get some ice for your lip. We’ll work on some defensive techniques at the end of class.”

  “Okay.” Robin groaned when Jake helped her to her feet. She wore knee high sweats and had welts on the exposed parts of her legs. Wingate had been kicking her way harder than he needed to for a sparring session. Robin had showed her toughness by not complaining about it.

  Jake folded his arms and stared at Wingate.

  Wingate laughed. “I guess she’s not tough enough to hang here.”

  It was time he taught Wingate a lesson. “I guess not. You know, I think you’re a little too good for the rest of the class. You need a new sparring partner. How about you try me on for size?”

  Wingate’s smile faded. “Um, yeah sure.”

  Jake raised his hands in a defensive posture. Wingate did the same. Normally, he avoided stretching out his students, but this asshole needed to learn an important life lesson.

  He shot in at Wingate, used a double leg takedown, hoisted him in the air, and slammed him to the mat as hard as he could in the blink of an eye. He got into the mount position, swung his hips, and hooked him into an arm bar.

  The other students stopped sparring and gathered around. Today, he would give them a clinic on submission grappling using Wingate as his test dummy.

  After Wingate tapped out, Jake helped him to his feet.

  Wingate tightened his face. “I wasn’t ready for that.”

  Jake nodded. “All right. You shoot in on me this time.”

  Jake put up his fists. Wingate shot in with no technique. Jake sprawled to stop the takedown attempt, landed a short knee to his chest, and kicked him sharply below the ribs. When Wingate bent down from the blow, Jake sunk in a guillotine choke. Within seconds Wingate tapped.

  The students clapped.

  Lawrence shouted, “That was awesome.”

  They continued sparring with similar outcomes. Jake took him down with ease, landed a few strikes that didn’t do any real damage, and put him into a submission. Jake made sure he locked it in for an extra few seconds after Wingate tapped, just to increase his pain level.

  Standing in front of the class, Robin smiled when Wingate squealed in pain.

  After Jake made him tap out a dozen times, Wingate said, “I’ve had enough.”

  Jake doubted he would see him again at the gym.

  The students disbursed, with the class about over. When they cleared, he was stunned to find June Fischer standing at the back of the crowd.

  She walked toward him and clapped. “That was impressive.”

  Jake couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Thanks. Um, what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve always wanted to take a self-defense class. You never know who you’re going to run into. Plus, I figure if Chad doesn’t learn the meaning of no, I can give him a beatdown. Did I say that right?”

  Jake nodded, still grinning. “You said that perfectly well.”

  “So, anyway, I figured I’d check out this whole ultimate fighting thing and I signed up for your class.”

  Jake folded his arms, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid. “How did you find out I was instructing here?”

  “Cordy and Kenna told me all about it yesterday. It sounded intriguing, so I called and talked to some guy named Joe, and he enrolled me.”

  “That’s Joe Renken. He’s my trainer.”

  June looked around, surveying the gym. “My first class is next week.”

  “This isn’t for the faint of heart, you know. It gets pretty rough when we roll on the mats.”

  June smiled. “Ooh, rolling around on the mats. I like the sound of that.”

  “It�
��s not like that. You’re guaranteed to go home with some bumps and bruises.”

  June’s face tightened. “That’s okay. I’m tough.”

  “I just want to warn you. We get a lot of people who sign up and quit after the first session. And I’m not going to go easy on you just because were, um, friends.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to. You should treat me like the rest of the students, even though we’re, um, friends.”

  Jake pointed to her dress slacks and pink sweater. “That’s not proper gym attire.”

  “Of course not. I just wanted to say hi to my new teacher.”

  Jake smiled. This class just got a whole lot more interesting.

  Chapter VII

  Carlos had a beaming smile as he approached Kenna and Cordy. Meanwhile, Ben trudged behind him with his hands in his pocket, looking like someone had stolen his favorite comic book.

  Just like before, they gathered near the gazebo at the rear of the schoolyard by the fence. The spring air was crisp and cool. Kenna could smell the bloom of flowers nearby. She felt like an international spy having a clandestine meeting. While all the other kids were playing some silly game or hanging out, they were doing something important.

  Carlos took a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Kenna. Before she could read it, Cordy snatched it from her hands.

  “I got everything: his email address, where he lives, his phone number, the works,” Carlos said. “It was all just a few clicks away.”

  Kenna peeked over Cordy’s shoulder at his chicken scratch handwriting.

  “How did you find this?” Kenna asked.

  Carlos pretended to wipe something off his shirt, milking this moment for all it was worth. “Can’t tell you. Top secret.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Carlos couldn’t figure it out, so his cousin, Alex, came over. The guy’s like some kinda computer genius or something.”

  Cordy rumpled Carlos’ shaggy black hair. “Good job. I knew you would come through.”

  Ben looked down at the ground. “So, we’re actually going to do this?”

  Kenna nodded. Yesterday, she and Cordy had contacted Mia. They hadn’t mentioned Mark, but after they finished, Kenna was convinced it was the right thing to do. Mia had seemed tense. The air around them seemed heavy, as if the atmosphere was dragging her down. Mia’s physical presence had become more palpable since they had first spoken, like it was extending into their own world.

  Mia had once again mentioned that Cotter had hurt her. When Kenna tried to get more information, Mia clammed up. The vibe Kenna got suggested that Cotter both mentally and physically abused her. Maybe reaching out to Mark Saleski would somehow help.

  “So, now what do we do?” Carlos asked.

  “We shouldn’t do anything,” Ben said. “We’ll hold onto this information in case we need it.”

  Ignoring Ben, Cordy said, “We should email him and pass along a message from Mia, you know something only they would know about. That way he would know it was really her.”

  Kenna frowned. “I don’t know. I’m not sure we should let Mia know what we’re up to. She might not go for it.”

  Ben waived his hands. “If she’s won’t go for it, then why are we doing this?”

  “Sometimes people don’t know what’s best for them,” Kenna said.

  “You sound like my mom,” Carlos said. “Why don’t we just ask Mia what she thinks? Even if she says no, it’s not like she can stop us. She is dead, you know.”

  Kenna felt like smacking Carlos. “I know she’s dead. But if she specifically told us not to talk to him, then I wouldn’t do it.”

  Ben shook his head. “I’ll never understand girls.”

  Carlos’s face lit up. “We can IM him and say we’re Mia. That would freak him out.”

  Cordy punched his shoulder. “We’re not trying to scare the guy.”

  “That hurt.” Carlos rubbed his shoulder. “It was just an idea.”

  “A bad idea.” Cordy stuck out her tongue.

  “We’re getting off topic,” Kenna said. “How about we pry something out of Mia but don’t tell her what we’re doing. Then we email him, so he’ll know we really talk to her.”

  Cordy’s eyes opened wide. “I have an idea. He probably had a nickname for her like honeybunch or sweet cheeks or, I don’t know, muffin.”

  “Why?” Ben asked.

  Cordy shrugged. “Boyfriends and girlfriends do that.”

  “Remind me never to have a girlfriend,” Ben said.

  “With your attitude, it won’t be a problem. Anyway, if we could find out his nickname for her, or her nickname for him, then he’ll know it’s from Mia.”

  Kenna rubbed her palms together. “That might work. Now we have to get that from Mia without her finding out about our plans.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” Carlos said.

  “Well, it doesn’t hurt to try,” Kenna said. “How about we meet at my house after school? Ben and I will try to reach her.”

  Ben sulked. “Do I have to?”

  Kenna patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m sure that thing that happened the first time with the lights going off and Cordy getting her nose busted won’t happen again.”

  Kenna failed to mention the apparition she had seen. Since it had not reoccurred, she had tried to convince herself she had imagined it, but that didn’t stop the twinge of fear she felt each time they took out the Ouija board.

  ***

  Kenna hung her head and tried to control her breathing. The mysterious apparition had invaded her nightmares, haunting her. Although she would have liked to believe her imagination had run wild, inside, she knew that wasn’t true. She had seen this thing with perfect clarity, and it had frightened her more than the scariest horror movie ever had.

  What if it came back? What would she do?

  She doubted the others had seen it, or they would have said something. They weren’t as good at keeping things inside as she was. She held back a lot, like the emptiness she felt after her father’s death. Her memory of him was disappearing more and more each day. If it wasn’t for pictures of him, she would hardly remember what he looked like. She also held back the hurt from her mother’s neglect. She didn’t even share that with Cordy. While Jake was in prison, she felt so alone. Even her friends couldn’t make that go away. She had been terrified of what might happen to Jake in prison, even though Jake was the toughest person she had ever known. Other kids had told her stories about bad things that happened in prison.

  She wiped back tears thinking back on those times. When she had visited Jake, she always tried to hide how much it hurt seeing him locked away like that since he had enough to worry about.

  Kenna took a deep breath, walked up the stairs, and entered Jake’s bedroom.

  He sat on his bed, his head resting against the headboard, reading a book. He must have been really into it, since he only looked up when she shook his right foot.

  Jake put down the Gillian Flynn novel he was reading. He scooted over, and Kenna sat next to him.

  “Since when do you read?”

  Jake shrugged. “I picked it up in the pen. I had a lot of time on my hands, so I read.”

  “Cool. Say, do you believe in ghosts?”

  Jake stared at her. “No. Why do you ask?”

  Kenna closed her eyes. She had to tell someone and she trusted Jake more than anyone else in the world. She ran through what had happened on the first day they had contacted Mia. He nodded as she spoke, but his face showed no emotion.

  Jake folded his hands. “Listen, I don’t think you actually saw a ghost. The lights had gone out, and you were scared. I remember once when I was your age, these kids at school kept saying there was a witch in an abandoned house in our old neighborhood. On a dare, I went to the house one night. It was dark and misty. I got myself so psyched up that when I looked into a window of the house, I nearly wet myself when I saw a witch on the top floor.”

  Kenna’s eyes went wide. “Really?�
�

  “It wasn’t an actual witch. I went back a couple weeks later, this time during the day. I looked up at the same window and saw a soapy outline. That was the witch. I got so worked up that my mind played tricks on me. Just to be sure, I went back again at night, and this time I could clearly tell it wasn’t a witch. You see what I’m saying?”

  “I guess.”

  “Has this ghost shown up since that day?” Jake asked.

  Kenna shook her head.

  “If it was real, it would have come back.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jake put his arm around her shoulder. “Listen if it shows up again, I’ll put that ghost in a rear naked choke and make it tap out.”

  Kenna giggled. “That would be funny. So, are you ready for your fight?” Kenna threw punches at him, and Jake blocked them.

  “Getting there. I’m nervous. It’s been almost a year since I last fought, and this guy has some serious wrestling credentials. He was the captain of his wrestling team at Penn State, and they have one of the top programs in the country.”

  Kenna looked at him incredulously. “Come on. A wrestler can’t beat you. You have mad skills.”

  “I don’t want to be overconfident, but I’ll be ready come fight night. You gonna get Mom to take you to see the fight?”

  Kenna looked down at the floor. “Mom won’t go for it. She gets all afraid and stuff, like you’re going to get hurt out there. Plus, she doesn’t want to expose me to violence. She needs to keep it real.”

  “Well, I’d like you to be there. You’re my rock. I need you for support. I can’t do this without you.”

  Tears welled in Kenna’s eyes. After hearing that, nothing in Heaven or Earth would stop her from being in Atlantic City next week to see her brother fight.

  Kenna went back to her room, waiting for her friends to arrive. She was too distracted to do homework, even though she knew she had to get it done.

  Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. She ran out of her room and told Jake she would get the door. At the front door, she found her three partners in crime.

  “Anyone home?” Carlos asked.