by AJ Salem
“Ask him about Mom,” Brian said.
I shot Brian a ‘what the hell look’ then realized how crazy I must seem if my dad couldn’t see him.
“Listen, pumpkin,” my dad started. “I know it’s been rough for you but I need to deal with Charlotte. I don’t think it’s safe to take her out to the hospital.”
He went over to the kitchen window and peeked through the cafe curtains, the ones I found in Target after Brian set the vintage ones ablaze in a volcano experiment gone wrong.
“Dad, it won’t matter if Charlotte is fine or not if we don’t solve my problem.” I decided to go for it and took Brian’s advice. “Tell me about Mom.”
“It’s dark out there.” He rubbed both palms over his red- rimmed eyes. Not demonic red. Just tired. “I can’t even get up the news on the radio. But I feel it deep in my gut. It’s bad out there.”
“Then you know why you have to tell me. I need to fix it. This is all my fault.” I looked back to check on Charlotte. From where I was sitting, her skin looked better and she was still asleep. Sleep was good. That’s when the brain shut everything else down and worked on healing itself.
“How do you figure that?” He leaned against the counter.
That’s when it all came out. I told him about the Dybbuk. The grimoire. The book club where I spent my time summoning demons of the Otherworld, not reading Vonnegut. The chamber. The only parts I left out of my confession were the Drifts and Ian’s betrayal.
“I guess this isn’t a surprise.” He walked over to the range and turned down the flame. Steam was rising from our large pasta pot. Tongs in hand, he stirred the water then pulled out a skeleton key and dropped it onto a kitchen towel.
“Your mother froze this in a block of ice. I joked with her, telling her most wives froze their credit cards when they knew they’d been doing too much shopping.
“She said ‘Ethan, when the time comes, you’ll know it.’ And it was never mentioned again. That was a few months before she up and disappeared. Every time I pulled out a steak for dinner, it would taunt me, that foggy hunk of ice. But I didn’t touch it.
“The night we came home with Brian from the hospital, the bell rang. It was the perfect summer’s day so we expected there to be some visitors. Neighbors. Your grandmother came up from Georgia and made a pitcher of sun-kissed tea. We had Brian in a Moses basket, sitting on the porch in the back with us as we sat, sipping it from tall glasses. Your mom went ahead and answered it. I never saw who was at the door that day. But when she came back, she had you in her arms.
“She said you were her daughter and that your name was Gemma. I asked her the obvious questions. Who, what, how? She just said, ‘You don’t want to know. Not really.’ And I think she was right. I had a feeling about what she was doing all the time we were married. Secret meetings. Going off into the woods with her friends. But I loved her and didn’t want to seem like some macho guy telling her what to do. Thought it would drive her away.” He laughed bitterly at the last part.
He handed me the key while I stared off in shock. Thom had known. My mom and dad had known. This epic-sized secret had been hidden from me for my entire life. I looked down at the simple silver key in my hand.
“Does this mean you’re not my father?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not, pumpkin,” he answered. The fact that he didn’t go into a whole sitcom dad talk about how he’ll always be my dad no matter what clued me in to how he really felt and why he had been so absent ever since Brian’s death. His only child.
“What now?” I pushed every unwanted thought into the lockbox in my head where I kept everything I didn’t want to think about.
“It’s the key to her closet.”
I started down the hallway with Brian trailing behind me.
My father’s room had been cleaned. It was back to all its OCD glory. To the left was the hallway that led to the master bath. To the right was the bed, a door on either side. The one to the right was his walk-in. To the left was hers. It hadn’t occurred to me that it had been locked all these years.
“You sure about this?” I asked Brian. I was getting some pretty heeby-jeeby vibes coming off the door.
“Whatever you need to close the chamber is in there.”
“Can I ask how you know this?”
“One of the perks of being a ghost.” He smiled.
I shoved the key in the lock and turned. The woosh of a seal being broken was followed by the scent of lavender. She always wore it. It made me sick to my stomach.
Inside it was a time capsule. The silk blouses she was so fond of hung in a row of color-coordinated perfection. Clear acrylic boxes showcasing all her favorite shoes lined the floor below dozens of hangers filled with the same pair of black slacks. She was never one to mommy it up with sweats or jeans.
“I don’t see it,” I said. “It’s just all her boring clothes.”
I knelt down on the plush cream carpeting and pushed aside the tower of shoeboxes. I opened her drawers and rummaged through scarves and hosiery. Then the next drawer full of white camisoles and yoga pants. My frustration was building with every minute. There were demons out there running amok while Charlotte lay unconscious on the couch.
“Brian, a little help?”
“Chill. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly solid. Just keep looking.”
He was very much like a hologram. The kind with static coming through in certain areas, like a weak TV signal.
I crawled to the back of the closet. There was a patch of carpeting that didn’t look like it was part of the same continuous piece. I tucked my fingers underneath the corners and wedged it free. And there it was. A trapdoor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Most houses in the area couldn’t boast a finished basement. Or an unfinished one. With the flooding that can happen anywhere from October through April, it would only serve as a hassle, leaving most residents content with a crawl space. Finding a twelve-by-twelve stone room beneath my parents’ bedroom baffled me. I was expecting a hidey-hole where my mother stashed her most intimate things. Love letters from high school boyfriends. A pack of cigarettes.
The descent was anything but easy. The rope ladder twisted and swayed if I didn’t hold myself completely rigid as I searched with my foot for each rung in the dark. I felt the cool breeze of Brian rush past and a single light bulb came on.
“I thought you couldn’t touch anything. Doesn’t include light switches, huh?” I said as my feet found solid ground.
“Nah. That’s more of a ghost thing.”
The windowless room was cool and there wasn’t much space to stretch. A small green leather journal sat on an antique secretary. To the right of it was a bookshelf, bursting with books of the occult, the old and new testaments, in both Hebrew and Latin, the Apocrypha.
I ran my index finger along one of the shelves, picking up a thick layer of dirt. I sat on the upholstered tuffet and flipped through the pages of what appeared to be my mother’s journal. Each page was filled with a sigil, a date, and a brief description of her encounter with the celestial or demonic being.
“I don’t remember her having any tattoos,” I grumbled. “And I don’t know what we’re looking for.” I slammed the book shut and leaned back against the cool wall.
“She always wore those stupid blouses. And we were young. I doubt we’d have noticed or cared,” Brian said, hovering beside me, attempting to thumb through the contents of the bookshelf.
“But it would explain why Principal Kelly freaked out when she saw mine. She said Mom and her were friends.”
I opened all the tiny compartments and found nothing of interest until I checked the large drawer in the center. Inside, was the grimoire. It looked exactly like the one that was missing although there could very well have been copies all over the universe for all I knew. It was worn in the same spots and had the same ink stain on the first page.
“This is too weird,” I said, placing the book in my lap.
�
��What is it?”
“The grimoire. It’s missing. So this has to be a copy. I don’t know how this is going to help me.”
My butt was getting sore and I remembered the amulet I had shoved in my back pocket after my failed attempt to close the chamber.
After I had set it on the table, Brian said, “It looks like the symbol on the cover.”
I turned the book over and saw that he was right. “It still doesn’t give me any idea of what to do next.”
“Well, let’s think about it.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“Come on, Gem. You want to save the world or what?”
“Not really.” I shuddered beneath his glare. “Okay fine.”
“To open the gate what did you need?”
“The amulet, the lamb, and binding Thom.”
“Are you sure the binding was part of it?”
“I wouldn’t know.” My brother’s talent for deductive reasoning hadn’t left him on the other side.
“So then, if the universe is composed of opposites, dark and light, good and evil, the only thing we need is the opposite of a lamb.”
“Someone with no innocence left,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“Don’t you think we’re stretching it? I mean, there has to be instructions somewhere here.”
“Suit yourself but it’ll only get worse out there.”
I felt time slipping through my fingers and I was angry that this burden had somehow fallen to me. It wasn’t fair that I had to deal with all this demon crap. That’s when the idea hit me. “What if I were to use a demon?”
“Makes sense.” He was now behind me, examining the sconces on the wall and the faint hint of chalk line caked on the wall. “So do you think all of this has anything to do with why Mom left?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I took the amulet and the grimoire and started up the ladder. “We’ve got work to do.”
Charlotte looked rested. The angry thick lines were receding and the rose color tint had returned to her lips. She was sitting, propped up by pillows, in a cloud of shredded red chiffon, and flipping through channel after channel of static.
“You look much better,” I said.
“I feel totally better. Ever wonder how a dead battery feels. Ugh.”
“I guess you just needed some rest.”
“I still can’t see.” Her voice was lower. I sat beside her and saw that her eyes were still a sickening cloudy white. “I mean, I can see, it’s just not normal. Like how I’m used to seeing.”
“I’m so sorry, Char. This is all my fault.” I wanted more than anything to blame this on Sam or Ian. It just didn’t feel right. I would like to think that I could have said no at any time. Even Thom said that the rest was up to me. He also said that demons knew how to toy with people.
I should have listened to him then.
What did I know?
“She said it had to happen.”
“Who?”
“The lovely lady. In my dreams. She was filled with light.” She looked away towards the window, lost in thought. “They need you on their side. I’m the one who will see what you can’t.”
“I think you need some more rest.” I was worried that she had lost part of mind along with whatever eyesight had abandoned her.
“The light. I will see the light amidst your darkness.” Her melodic voice filled me with more self-loathing. That she could be so positive after everything. “She said to embrace your darkness if you are to ever know light.”
My hopes for Charlotte sank when I heard her rattle on about light and dark. All I saw were grays and though they varied in intensity, it weighed down on everything. I thought I had seen good in Ian. I thought I had seen the bad in Thom. And then there was my mother and her secret life. Me. I wasn’t quite sure what was good and evil, if ever such a thing even existed.
“It’s alright. I’m going to make it right.”
“She knows you will,” Charlotte sang on. “It’s all in your head.” She tapped the small indentation on her forehead. The french-tipped nail of her index finger had cracked.
“We should go,” Brian said.
“We don’t exactly have plan,” I whispered in his direction.
“You should listen to your brother,” Charlotte said.
“Can you see him?”
“Totally. Just not the same way you do. Go back to the chamber. Use what’s left of Thom’s journal. She said so.”
I had forgotten the slip of parchment tucked snugly against my chest. There was a good chance that it had been ruined by now, just like the rest of the book. I unfurled the scrap of paper. There was part of a sigil but the true name was illegible, Thom’s smooth cursive had bled beyond recognition.
“You think this is it?” I asked Brian as I walked away from the pain of Charlotte’s situation. I showed him the scrap of paper.
“Is it safe?” he asked.
“Don’t know who it is but I guess we’ll find out soon.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Charlotte insisted on coming with us. She made strange small sounds and comments all along the way, seeing and hearing things that neither myself nor my ghost of a brother could make out. The crackling rage of the forest fire engulfing the surrounding forest was all that consumed me.
“Almost there,” I huffed. I was nearly out of breath from carrying the brunt of Charlotte’s weight as Brian hovered inches above the ground right behind us. Overhead, the branches rustled as unseen creatures tangled in them. I waved my phone overhead, catching sight of a long sinewy arm and slate-colored flaps of skin.
“We need to hurry,” Brian said.
When we got to the pit, it looked cold and empty, devoid of any activity, sinister or not. The temperature plummeted as soon as we entered the summoning ring, in direct contrast to the smoky heat that pursued us deep into the trees. The gray ash around the perimeter kicked up into the breeze, dancing along the small quivering blue beam, making it difficult to see and breath.
“It has to be now,” Charlotte said, lowering her body to the floor. She began to palm the ground, searching for something in the dark, moving on to her knees and crawling frantically in circles. Then she stopped. Dead still. Her neck whipped around and she stared at me with those luminous sick eyes. “Now!”
I pulled out the scrap of paper and smoothed it onto a large boulder. There were no candles, no salt. I was winging this and hoping for the best. What choice did I have? Leave the sadistic creatures loose in my town or suffer my own consequences.
I searched for the familiar thread of power that lingered deep within my chest. Always. My gaze turned to Brian. He hovered over Charlotte’s weak form, frozen in the terrified afterthought of her scream, and gave me a warm smile. The kind that always told me he knew I was doing the right thing, like when I was five years old and went back to the corner store to return the rainbow erasers I had stolen from the low-lying Lucite crates that ran along the aisles of the stationary section.
Overhead the sky held blood red remnants of sunset, choking on layers of thick smoke. Leaves curled up and crackled as if they were aware of their impending incineration. I looked at Brian one more time for reassurance before I opened my mouth and let the power that had built up within me slip free.
“Is it working?” Brian asked.
I hesitated to speak, fearing the moment would be ruined along with the connection to whichever mysterious entity I was about to get in touch with. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I have no idea.”
The pit remained empty and I could feel the sweat trickling down my back as the intensity of the fire was drawing nearer. I held on to the connection, hoping that it would soon burst open with energy and produce the demon I was hoping for.
Frantically, I looked back down at the page and then to Charlotte, who was still caught within the grip of her fit, motionless, just like the rest of the surroundings. All the while, I waited for the magic to come.
CHAPTE
R TWENTY-EIGHT
“Are you sure you did it right?” Brian asked.
“Of course I did it right.” My voice squeaked nervously. “I think. This one’s different. No sigil. No true name. I kind of had to run blind for this one. Oops, sorry Char.” I cringed at the faux pas. “But it had to have done something. I felt it work.” I thought back to the glowing sensation that had boiled within the stone of my necklace.
Just then, Charlotte cackled into the night sky and rolled on the ground in a fit of laughter.
“Char, are you okay?”
“It worked. They’re coming,” she was able to squeeze out before being overcome with another fit of hysterics.
My feet trembled as the ground beneath began to shake. Images of elephants stampeding through the African plains entered my mind as the sounds of hundreds of feet pounding the earth grew closer.
“You might want to get out of the way, Gem,” Brian yelled as he motioned for me to move away from the pit. I grabbed Charlotte by the waist and dragged her along with me until we were sheltered up against a large oak tree.
Then the hoard appeared. It all happened in slow motion. Every last demon was drawn back into the gate as if some magnet was luring them back. In the air, some attempted to grab onto branches in order to avoid another lifetime of imprisonment. One after another, they walked in reverse down the sides of the abyss. They numbered in the hundreds, like a swarm of black locusts that could no longer prey on Harrisport.
There was a loud crack. I looked up and saw the tree beside us go down in one fell swoop as the demons clinging onto it were slammed down to the ground. Charlotte huddled closer into the safety of my chest and I wrapped my arms around her.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re safe,” I whispered to her.
Then the rain poured down in buckets and it was hard to see with the water pouring down my face. My jeans soaked through within a matter of seconds and I tried my best to wipe away the layers of hair so that I could watch as the last of the invaders were forced back to their underworld.
