When They Fade

by Jeyn Roberts

  “So this is what you do?” he finally says. “You’re some kind of ghost hunter?”

  Tatum laughs, although it’s really not that funny. She looks at the driveway, where her car waits. Neither of her parents is home right now. Tatum wants to go up into the sanctuary of her bedroom, get into bed, and pull the covers up over her head until the cold feelings go away. Maybe a hot shower would help. Her hands are freezing. She stuffs them into her pockets, but it doesn’t do a thing to warm them up. This kind of cold goes straight down to her bones.

  “Care to explain what just happened?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “I really don’t.”

  “You don’t know how a bunch of ghosts turned up out of nowhere? Or you don’t know why they called you by your name? Or that weird invisible attack? Was it an attack? Do we even know what happened?”

  “You mean you believe it?” Tatum asks carefully.

  “I have eyes, don’t I?”

  Tatum shrugs. Would she believe it if the tables were turned and she were sitting in Scott’s position?

  Scott exhales heavily. He taps his fingers absently on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. I guess so. What should I say? That girl, Molly, she’s a dead ringer for the girl in the photograph, and I know it’s real. I gave you those articles myself. They weren’t doctored or anything. Those other two looked like they stepped out of the Victorian era or something. Part of me wants to believe you’re setting me up, but for what…I can’t even begin to figure that out.”

  “Parker is the guy,” Tatum says. “I met him for the first time the other night. I don’t know about the girl. Mary. I’ve never seen her before. She really has a thing for food.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” Scott says. “If anyone knows you tell the truth, I guess it’s me. So yeah, I believe you. Now I’m just wishing Granny was with us. She would have loved that, even if it did get weird.”

  * * *

  Tatum tells him everything. Scott must be cold too because halfway through her story he starts the car up so he can turn on the heater. She tells him first about how she met Molly on the road. She tells him about Molly’s strange warning only because she can’t think of a better lie on the spot. Since Molly only gives premonitions to certain people, like Scott’s grandmother, she knows she can’t leave that out. She probably could have made something up about a lost cat, but Scott deserves complete honesty. She goes on, talking about how she’s been doing all that research to try and find a way to help Molly, but how do you help a ghost who obviously doesn’t seem to need it?

  While she’s talking, both her parents come home. They see her in the car and wave. Mom can’t stop smiling, apparently thrilled to see Tatum talking with a boy her own age. Dad frowns, but thankfully doesn’t do anything to embarrass her. They go inside after Mom points to her watch and taps it. Twenty minutes and then it’s time to go in for dinner.

  “So what do we do now?” Scott asks when she finally finishes.

  “Wait for Molly to come back,” Tatum says. “I hope she’s safe.”

  “No, not that,” Scott says. “What about you? If Molly says you’re going to die, shouldn’t you be more worried? She was right about my grandma. Completely right. Each little detail. And you said it yourself—you read that stuff online about other people she’s spoken to. The things Molly says, they’re true.”

  “Just because she knew someone was being cheated on doesn’t mean she’s right about this,” Tatum says. “Come on, Claudette might be a big bitch, but she’s not a psychopathic killer. She’s never tried to pick a fight with me. She’s having too much fun getting the guys to pee on my car.”

  “That doesn’t mean she won’t take it up a notch.”

  “She’s not a killer,” Tatum says. “I’ve known her my whole life. She never tortured animals as a child or crap like that.”

  “So you’re just going to ignore the warning? Even though Molly keeps coming back? Did you not see that freak-out? It looks to me like she’s taking a hell of a chance to try and make sure you’re safe.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You didn’t feel it?”

  “What?”

  Scott shudders and turns the heat up. “There was something in the woods. I couldn’t fully see it. Blurred images out of the corners of my eyes. Things moving. A lot of them. And the temperature. It was so cold I could see my breath. But whatever it was, they saw it. It terrified them. It got Mary.”

  “Parker called them Remnants.”

  Scott nodded. “I think it was a different type of ghost. Something that came after them. If Molly found a way to escape her afterlife like she told you, maybe they’re set up to make sure these things can’t happen.”

  “If she comes back, she’s putting herself in danger, then.”

  “Exactly.”

  Tatum doesn’t want to think about that. These past few weeks have given her a purpose. Before Molly, she had nothing. She sat in her room and waited for everything to end so she could restart her life. It’s been a horrible time; she doesn’t want to go back to it. She needs Molly in her life. She wants to be her friend. Sure, that sounds stupid, but for the first time in ages Tatum feels good about herself. And then there’s Scott. If it weren’t for her ghostly friend, she never would have talked to him.

  And thanks to Molly and to Scott’s grandmother’s stories, they’re still talking.

  “She’s going through a lot of trouble to keep you safe,” Scott says. “She’s risking her own life. Wait, ghosts are dead, right? Does that make it her soul she’s risking?”

  “Nothing is going to happen,” Tatum insists. She looks at the dashboard clock. Time’s up. She’d better get inside before Dad comes out. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay. But do me a favor and think about it,” Scott says. “Let’s be careful over the next few days. Don’t put yourself in a position where you’re alone with Claudette.”

  “Fine.”

  She wonders if Scott might lean over and go for that kiss he missed earlier, but he doesn’t. Instead he watches her as she walks up the driveway. It isn’t until she reaches the door that he drives off. She goes inside, bracing herself for the barrage of questions that will be coming her way. Mom will most likely think that Tatum’s being with Scott is the best thing in the world that could happen to her oversexed, older man–chasing daughter.

  * * *

  Tatum tosses and turns all night. No matter how much she tries to ignore it, Scott’s warning keeps popping up in the back of her mind. What if he’s right? What if she’s completely underestimating Claudette? Why else would Molly risk her soul to keep coming back?

  She gets out of bed and turns on the computer to research Remnants, but finds nothing. She’s not overly surprised, since humans can’t see them and ghosts don’t exactly keep blogs. Finally, around three a.m., she falls into a poor sleep that ends with nightmares in which she’s being chased by shadow monsters with extra-large heads. In the morning, before she showers, her face in the mirror looks haggard. No amount of makeup can hide those dark marks under her eyes.

  School is uneventful. No one looks at her or says a single word. She talks to Scott briefly in the hall before class, but that’s about it.

  Just before lunch, she gets called into the office.

  The principal takes her outside to the parking lot without really talking to her. He hasn’t said a friendly word since the last official office visit, months ago, when Tatum got called out for being a liar. Now his face is red and sweaty. He repeats that he doesn’t have time for this nonsense. He wants to know where she was during first period. Was she in class? He is going to check with her teacher, so she’d better tell the truth. Tatum can’t help but think he’d behave differently if it were any student other than her.

  The damage is extensive.

  They’ve broken all the windows in her car. From first glance it looks like they used a baseball bat. The fenders are dented in several spots. They
opened the hood and tore out every single wire they could find. They removed the battery and smashed it open on the ground. Acid stains the asphalt beneath her feet. All the tires have been slashed. The seats cut and pulled apart. The CD player disabled and lying in pieces on the floorboards.

  Someone used a key to scratch all sorts of nasty remarks in the paint job. Words even worse than what she normally finds on her locker. What’s more is that they used something other than lipstick this time. On the hood of the car, the words are still drying. It’s probably paint, but it looks like the words were written in blood.

  DIE, BITCH, DIE.

  The words make her shudder the first time she reads them. Scott is going to have a lot to say about this. Oh God, this is true. Claudette is capable of doing a lot more than Tatum’s given her credit for. Maybe all that time spent with Mr. Paracini has done something to her brain.

  There is so much damage that her car no longer resembles itself. It’s more like a lump of gray metal now. Glass is scattered across the ground, along with bits of cloth from the seats. No amount of insurance money will put it back together. It’s a write-off.

  Dad’s going to kill her.

  The police are called in, although the principal isn’t happy about it. He talks to the officers, and she knows he’s telling them about her sketchy past. It’s suggested more than once that she probably did this herself to get the attention and sympathy from the other students. One of the cops, a woman, gives her a compassionate glance, but the man obviously thinks Tatum must have brought this on herself. Still, he takes her statement and writes down everything she says.

  No one saw anything. Tatum gives them a list of names, and the female officer assures her they’ll follow it all up. But the odds are good that Claudette and her army will have alibis.

  “If you did this, you should come clean,” the principal says again. “I’m going to check with your teachers. If you so much as even went to the bathroom, I’ll find out.”

  “They destroyed my car,” Tatum counters. “There’s blood all over it.”

  “It’s just paint,” the principal says.

  “It smells like blood.” She turns to the male cop. “Aren’t you even going to test it to find out where it came from?”

  “This isn’t some stupid crime show,” he grumbles. But he goes over to his car and pulls out a crime kit.

  The lunch bell rings and students come out, curious about all the commotion. They stand around in the distance, and Tatum notices that Claudette and Graham are noticeably absent. Levi is there, taking pictures on his phone, laughing with Juniper. At least he’s smart enough not to shout anything or get too close.

  “Can you think of anyone else who might want to harm you?” the female officer asks.

  “It’s some sort of stupid prank,” the male cop says. “Went a bit too far, but kids say this sort of stuff all the time. It’s all that time on the Internet. Makes them feel invincible.”

  “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

  “It had to be Claudette,” Tatum says. “She hates me more than anything.” As much as she wants the officers to believe her, she also wonders what the point is. None of this matters anymore. Her car is gone, and it’s not like Dad’s about to get her another, especially with college a year away. And now her salvation, the one thing she thought she could rely on to get her far away from this town, has been taken away.

  Even with the small amount of insurance she’ll get, it’ll take her forever to save up for a new car. She’ll be stuck working in town until she earns enough to run away for good.

  * * *

  At home, her parents are guarded. Dad thankfully doesn’t scream at her for the damage done. Mom wants to call the police and demand answers, but Dad convinces her to wait until the morning. Might as well wait until they have more information so they can contact the insurance company. Mom’s mouth is growing steadily tauter by the minute.

  All in all, it could have been worse.

  Afterward, in her room, she listens to Mom and Dad argue from behind the closed bedroom door. Mom wants to send her away for the rest of the semester, transfer her to another school. Maybe in Seattle. Maybe getting away from all this is exactly what Tatum needs to start over. Dad worries that sending her away will give the wrong message. Sending her away will only confirm her guilt. Maybe the insurance will be enough to get her another car. She’s going to need one to be safe.

  There’s almost hopefulness in both their arguments. Tatum wants to believe that they are still on her side. Even with the ongoing talk about psychologists and getting help for her emotional problems, Tatum often doubts the support they claim to give her. But if Mom’s suggesting that Tatum transfer schools, maybe she really does want to help. Of course it’s pointless; even if Tatum goes all the way to Canada, Claudette will still find a way to stalk her. It will only be a matter of time before her past gets shoved down the throats of whatever new place she ends up in.

  But if her parents believe her, maybe there is still a bit of goodness in this world.

  More than anything, Tatum needs Molly. She has to find out if Molly is okay and made it back. But only a single day has passed, and she knows it takes longer than that. She’s not sure how she’s going to make it through the next few days without knowing.

  She falls asleep on top of the bed with her shoes still on.

  * * *

  Glass shatters.

  Tatum jerks awake, unsure of what she just heard. Is she dreaming?

  An acidic smell fills her nose, making her throat instantly convulse, forcing her into an uncontrollable coughing spree. Something thick and bright assaults her eyes, forcing them to water. It takes a moment for her brain to register what she’s seeing.

  Her curtains are on fire.

  Bright flames climb the fabric. An orange-and-yellow blaze spreads out across the carpet, dancing about, stealing all the room’s oxygen. Her window is open; jagged pieces of glass stick to the windowsill.

  Something sails through the air, crashing against the wall, sending an explosion of fire in all directions. A poster begins to crumple, charred paper dissolving at an alarming rate. Some of it reaches the bedspread, and black smoke fills the air, choking Tatum as she frantically jumps off the mattress and races for the door.

  “Mom! Dad!” The only thing she can think about is making sure they’re okay.

  She gets halfway down the hallway before their door opens. They rush out in their pajamas. Mom starts to cough; already the smoke is spreading throughout the house.

  “Where’s the fire?” Dad yells.

  “My room.”

  He doesn’t say any more, just rushes down the stairs and comes back moments later with the fire extinguisher in his hands. Fighting the smoke and heat, he runs into Tatum’s bedroom while Mom fumbles for her phone to call 911.

  Thankfully, the fire is extinguished before the fire trucks show up. The rest of the house is fine, but Tatum’s room is completely destroyed. Everything’s covered in white foam. Her bedspread is ruined. The curtains are charred mush. The window frame is burned to a crisp. Everything smells like wet ash. Firemen traipse through the house with their big black boots, leaving muddy marks on the carpet.

  Tatum and her parents sit in the living room. Outside, dogs bark and all the neighbors’ lights are turned on. This is something that everyone will talk about for ages. A new chapter for the never-ending story of Tatum’s life. The policemen and firemen have already walked Tatum through the events several times. There’s not much to say. She woke up to the flames. On the floor of her bedroom, they discovered bits of broken bottle. Outside, they find another bottle in the bushes. Apparently the first attempt missed and hit the house instead, setting fire to the hedge.

  No witnesses. No footprints in the wet grass. No strange cars seen fleeing the scene of the crime. Even though some of the neighbors are asked, no one saw a single thing. Everyone was too busy sleeping.

  Tatum gives out the same names she gave earlier
during the car incident. Her parents reconfirm it. They explain to the police that there have been problems at school and that some of the kids have been causing trouble. The police want to know which students are the worst, and Tatum repeats Claudette’s and Graham’s names. She mentions Levi, too. She is still having trouble believing that Claudette would take things to this level. But who else would do such a thing? Yes, Tatum is hated by everyone. No, until today, most of the bullying has been rather tame. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

  Now she’s afraid.

  Setting the house on fire? This has gone too far. Her father, whom she’s been sure all this time secretly doesn’t believe her, gets into a heated conversation with the policeman, demanding something be done.

  “First my daughter’s car, now the house,” he says. “There’s something wrong with these kids. Something wrong with their parents.”

  Afterward, Mom gets out some old blankets from the closet and makes up the couch for Tatum to sleep on.

  “We’ll get it fixed tomorrow,” she says, referring to the window. “It might take a few weeks to clean everything up. You can use the office for your personal space until then. But you’re stuck sleeping on the couch for a while.”

  “That’s fine,” Tatum says.

  Mom gives her a kiss on the forehead. “Do you need anything? Set your alarm. I’m going to throw a load of laundry in before I go to bed. You’re going to need clothes for the morning. Something that doesn’t smell like smoke. Is there anything you want me to wash? Or you can borrow something of mine.”

  “My hoodie,” Tatum says. “The blue one. And my yoga pants, I guess. Or I can wear yours. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Done.”

  Tatum crawls onto the couch and Mom tucks the blanket around her like she’s eight years old again. It feels good. No matter how old she gets, Tatum knows that now and then she still needs her mom to be a mother.

  “You know,” Mom says, “I’m going to say this. You know I believe you. If you can’t have your parents on your side, then I suppose you’ve really got nothing. But this gang mentality. No matter what you did or didn’t do, this sort of thing shouldn’t be happening. This has gone too far.”