by Boris Bacic
Lee and Charlie were on top of a hill about a hundred yards away. Charlie was standing on the wooden platform attached to the tree where the zip-line started, with Lee making sure that he was secure for the ride down.
A few minutes prior to this, the instructor had demonstrated to them how to use the equipment. Jill found it irresponsible to have the instructor buzzing elsewhere with all the kids around. Someone could very easily get hurt.
Sure, those who were under eighteen couldn’t enter without parental supervision, but even after the age of eighteen, adolescents often did pretty stupid things. Eventually, when the instructor left, Lee decided to take Charlie up to the starting point, and Jill was supposed to wait where the line ended. Jill protested, insisting that she should be there to make sure Charlie was safe, but Lee assured her that everything would be fine.
He had an impatient look on his face, and Jill knew that this was one of the things they discussed a few times earlier—she needed to relax and trust that Lee wasn’t going to let their son get injured or killed. Still, as she stood by the tree, nervously skipping from one foot to the other, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread building up inside her.
She knew that she was overly protective of Charlie, and that she needed to back off a little bit. If she didn’t, he might end up like Stella from middle school. Stella was one of those kids who had helicopter parents—or just one parent, in this case. Her dad was a relaxed man for the most part, but both he and Stella were terrified of Stella’s mom, who was the one that called all the shots in the family.
Jill used to hang out with Stella from time to time, so she saw it all first-hand. Stella wasn’t allowed to go from home to school, or vice versa, alone. Not only that, but she wasn’t even allowed to visit Jill without her mom being there.
A very vivid memory Jill had of one of Stella’s visits was when they were playing in the living room, and a movie played on the TV in the background while Annette and Stella’s mom were talking.
At one point, there was a gory scene in the movie, and Stella’s mom turned Stella’s head away from the TV, ordering her not to look at it. Other memories included seeing Stella’s father panicking because he forgot to defrost the chicken, and the mom being on her way home from work; Stella being rushed to the ER for waking up with a sore throat; Jill being reprimanded for talking to Stella about boys.
The last time Jill saw Stella, which was a few years ago, she was a completely different person. She had dyed her hair black, wore black clothes and black makeup, had piercings all over her face and tattoos all over her body, and was dating a guy with similarly questionable looks.
She claimed she had never been happier in her life.
“Alright, ready, Charlie?” Jill heard Lee shout.
Charlie nodded, and before Jill could say anything, Lee pushed Charlie forward. A loud ‘Zzzziiiiiip’ pierced the air. The sound caused Jill’s heart to lurch, and then, when Charlie screamed, she froze, wide-eyed before realizing that Charlie was screaming in joy and excitement as he slid down the zip-line towards the tree next to Jill, a big grin on his face. The ride was over in mere seconds, and Charlie was safely on the platform next to Jill.
“So cool! Mom, did you see that?!” Only when Charlie looked at her for affirmation, speaking exuberantly, did Jill finally calm down.
She helped unclasp him from the zip-line. Even as she assisted him in climbing down, he continued talking about how incredible the ride was, not even taking a moment of pause between words and sentences.
“Can I go again?!” he asked with an excited hop.
Jill nervously chuckled and looked up at Lee. There were no other kids waiting in line, which seemed almost weird because most of the parents came here on the weekends.
“Yeah. Of course you can, sweetie. Go back over to Dad so he can strap you for the ride down, okay?”
“Yes!” Charlie ran off before Jill even finished the sentence.
Jill wiped her forehead with her palm. She hadn’t realized until then that a patina of cold sweat covered her head. She enjoyed spending time with her family here, but a gnawing feeling of dread just wouldn’t let her go.
She was terrified for Cheryl.
What was going on back at Mom’s home right now? Was Cheryl already possessed? Did she already find Mom and rescue her? Or was she in a coma, just like Mom? That last thought sent a wave of panic throughout Jill’s entire body.
She fished her phone out of her pocket, hoping to see anything from Fabiola or Cheryl… A call, a message saying she was okay, anything. But there were no notifications on her phone.
When she returned the phone back to her pocket and looked up, Charlie was already sliding down again. This time, Jill was much less agitated. She was still on edge, but less so than the first time. A part of her still almost expected the cable to snap, causing Charlie to topple down and injure himself.
No, no. Get those thoughts out! That will not happen, she told herself firmly.
She found it funny how she never thought about those things when she herself engaged in such activities as a child, but now, having a kid of her own, there were moments when she felt like everything in the world could harm her baby. She was getting better at controlling that anxiety, though, thanks to Lee. And she was determined to keep it up.
Charlie’s ride ended, and his voice and tumultuous exclamations showed no signs of his excitement subsiding. He asked to go again, and Jill allowed him, with even less hesitation this time, but warned him that they would soon need to go back to Aunt Cherry. Charlie ran off to Lee to get ready once more.
Jill impatiently glanced at her phone’s screen again. Still no notifications.
“Cherry. Please be okay,” she nervously muttered to herself.
Chapter 35
As Cheryl stepped inside the house, she expected a freezing cold to envelop her. That didn’t happen, and only then did she realize that there was no temperature in this world. Her skin didn’t feel cold or hot, but that didn’t mean it was pleasant. The lack of temperature was disturbing, kind of like opening your eyes in a dark room and not seeing anything.
The interior of the house was the same, and yet, somehow different. Just like the rest of the crossroads, the house seemed drained of life and hope, but unlike the outside street, there was a feeling of something bad inside.
The trickster spirit.
Upon entering, Cheryl spent a moment scrutinizing every spot in the foyer, partly mesmerized by the dark colors that she wasn’t accustomed to and partly making sure nothing dangerous lurked nearby.
She thought she saw a shadow sliding across the wall, which made her gasp in terror. And then it happened again. Shadow after shadow danced across the walls in tall, slender, humanoid shapes, some of them refracting from the wall up to the ceiling, towering above Cheryl. Some of the shadows stayed for a second or two longer, as if curiously observing Cheryl. Others just walked past without even turning their faceless heads.
Cheryl walked over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. The house was so dark that she couldn’t see the top of the stairs from here. Even though Cheryl knew she should be scared, that feeling wasn’t nearly as potent as she expected it to be. It was present, but only as a minor inconvenience. She likened it to the fear of speaking in front of the whole classroom.
When Cheryl reached the second floor, she realized just how incredibly dark it truly was up there. A part of her expected the darkness to disperse as she got closer, just as the fog had done, but that didn’t happen.
She squinted towards the hallway and was relieved to see it partially illuminated by whatever source of light existed in the crossroads. She also noticed that the door of the office was half-open. She was even more surprised to hear muffled voices coming from inside.
Cheryl lurched forward, and once she reached the office, peeked inside. Her eyes widened at the sight in front of her.
She saw Fabiola sitting on the floor in front of the vèvè, staring at the corner
of the room and mumbling something with a smile on her face. In the corner which Fabiola was transfixed on was Cheryl herself, standing ramrod straight, a lipstick in one hand and a hand-held mirror in the other.
Her lips were bright red from the lipstick that she had apparently put on, and she had an amused facial expression as she stared at her own reflection. It looked so bizarre, not only to see herself out of her body, but to see her making facial expressions that she rarely made. Or maybe she did make them; she just wasn’t aware of them.
“Oh, Ezili Freda, your lips look so red and full!” Fabiola exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
Cheryl, or Ezili Freda, giggled as if amused, examining her face from various angles in the mirror, as she continued putting on lipstick. The Cheryl in the crossroads took a step inside the room and called out.
“Fabiola!”
Fabiola couldn’t hear her or see her. But Ezili Freda could. As soon as Cheryl stepped inside and called out the mambo’s name, Ezili Freda jerked her head to the source of the voice. For a moment, she looked shocked, almost even ready for a fight. But then she grinned and gestured to herself as if to say, ‘Am I not beautiful?’.
Cheryl opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by another voice. A small, meager voice that came from Annette’s room.
“Mom?” Cheryl muttered to herself, instinctively jerking her head in the direction of the room.
When she looked back at Ezili Freda, she saw her briefly pointing towards Mom’s bedroom. She then continued admiring herself in the mirror, brushing her hair from shoulder to shoulder, making facial expressions and continuing to act like a woman who was in love with her own reflection.
Cheryl no longer cared about Ezili Freda standing in the room. When she heard Mom’s voice, her heart leapt into her throat and she suddenly felt the need to go see if it was truly her mother. She stepped out of the office and jackknifed towards Mom’s room.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she swung it open, not caring if all the trickster spirits of all the worlds were inside.
***
Ezili Freda finished admiring the lipstick and the jewelry, and had moved on to the candies. She unwrapped one of the miniature Bounty bars and took a small bite off the tip of it to see what it would taste like. Ezili Freda had a specific taste, and Fabiola hoped that the loa wouldn’t be displeased with the sweets.
The loa spent a moment with the piece of chocolate in her mouth as if trying to figure out if she actually liked it or not. And then she wolfed down the rest of the chocolate, before voraciously moving on to the next one. She plucked a strawberry flavored one and tried it, taking a somewhat bigger bite this time.
Almost as soon as she did so, her face contorted into a grimace. She turned her head sideways and spat the half-chewed, saliva-covered bite on the floor. She dropped the rest of the candy in the wrapper and wiped her mouth, still grimacing.
“I apologize, Ezili Freda,” Fabiola said. “We didn’t know which ones you would like, so we decided to give you many kinds in hopes that you would find one that suits you.”
Before Fabiola even finished that sentence, Ezili Freda already grabbed and unwrapped another Bounty. Fabiola glanced at her watch. It had only been five minutes since Cheryl entered the crossroads, but she didn’t have much time left. Her physical body would grow tired soon, and Ezili Freda would leave, throwing Cheryl back to the world of the living.
She hoped that Cheryl would manage to find her mother before that.
***
The first thing that greeted Cheryl upon entering the bedroom was the familiar beeping of the machine. The room was dark, just barely illuminated by the faint light outside, but Cheryl saw everything she needed to see. On the bed was Mom, comatose, just as she had been since Cheryl arrived.
Another person was in the room, sitting huddled in the corner, with their arms around their knees, muttering something incoherent.
“Mom!” Cheryl shouted, unable to contain her happiness.
She dashed across the room and fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around her mom, tighter than she ever had before. Mom didn’t hug her back. Cheryl observed her and realized that her mom didn’t even look in her direction. She had a blank stare on her face, as she continued mumbling nonsensical words to herself, her arms wrapped around her knees. She was pallid and gaunt, just like her comatose body back in the physical world.
“Mom! It’s me! It’s Cheryl!” Cheryl repeated.
No response. Cheryl started to get worried. She listened to her mother and was able to discern only a few words.
Papa Legba…
He’s after me…
The doll…
Vèvè…
Trapped…
Has she lost her mind entirely from being stuck in this world?
“Mom, come on! It’s your daughter,” Cheryl put a hand on Mom’s cheek. “It’s Cherry. Don’t you remember me?”
Her mom stopped mumbling and turned her head toward Cheryl.
“Cherry?” she asked in a toneless voice.
“Yes! It’s me!” Cheryl exclaimed, her eyes full of tears.
Mom continued staring at her for a moment in confusion and then—
She looked away, continuing to mumble the same words, over and over. Cheryl suppressed a new wave of incoming tears and contemplated what to do. She couldn’t just leave her mom here, even if her mind was wholly ruined. And who knew? Maybe her mind would return to its old self once they were out of here.
“Mom, it’s gonna be okay! I’m gonna get us out of here!” Cheryl cried as she wiped her tears away.
She firmly clutched her mother’s bony wrists and began chanting the words Fabiola told her to chant.
“Papa Legba, get us out. Papa Legba, get us out.”
Chanting the words suddenly seemed absurd. Were they going to teleport out of here or something? But then she remembered that she was teleported into the crossroads to begin with, and it suddenly didn’t seem as absurd.
Cheryl chanted the words over and over, intentionally speaking over her mother’s incoherent words. She felt something building up around her—some kind of tension in the air. The more she chanted the words, the more it seemed to grow, until it was all over the room. The best way Cheryl could describe it was a sort of invisible energy that permeated the room.
Along with that, Cheryl started to feel something else in the room, in equal quantity—a heaviness in the air. She instinctively turned her head towards the door and stopped chanting the words for a moment, her voice stuck in her throat.
A tall, dark figure stood in the doorway. It seemed to stare at Cheryl, even though she couldn’t clearly see its eyes. As soon as Cheryl stopped repeating the words, the energy in the room seemed to wane. She immediately resumed chanting, faster and more panicked this time, but she refused to take her eyes off the tall being.
The figure—the same one from her dreams, she realized—tilted its head curiously and took a step forward. It had to stoop down to get under the top frame of the door, and as it did, Cheryl panicked even more.
She could see more features on the figure, including an inhuman mouth and sharp, jagged fingers. Its entire frame was strange, undefined, with some sort of mist microscopically surrounding its head, limbs, and torso, making it difficult to determine where its frame ended; like a drawing in which a child had colored outside the lines.
“Papa Legba, get us out, Papa Legba, get us out, Papa Legba, get us out!” Cheryl was practically screaming now, and her tone only increased when the figure took another step forward, drastically closing the distance between them with its stork-like long legs.
It now towered above Cheryl and she had to look up towards the ceiling to keep it in her line of sight. She still didn’t see any eyes on it clearly, just dark holes that resembled two grey, cloudy orbs.
The heaviness in the air increased tenfold, but so did the invisible energy from before. It now manifested itself as a sort of a blur, enveloping both Chery
l and Annette.
“Papa Legba get us out Papa Legba get us out Papa Legba— you can’t have her!” Cheryl screamed in protest as the figure reached towards her with one hand.
She felt its cold touch on her shoulder. No, not cold. Freezing. It was like she submerged her shoulder in icy water. Cheryl stopped chanting, and the blur became so pervading that she could see nothing else. She was overcome with a sense of weightlessness and vertigo. She could have fallen sideways for all she knew, and not be aware of it.
And then, just like that, her vision returned, and she felt her knees disappearing underneath her.
She hit the floor hard, slamming her head on the wooden surface in the process. She suddenly felt incredibly weak. Her body quivered in exhaustion, and she could hardly keep her head up. It took her a moment to realize that she was on the floor of the office, with Fabiola rushing to her side, asking her a flurry of questions. But Cheryl was focused on something else.
The dark figure stood behind Fabiola, towering above the two women, staring down at Cheryl.
“You… you’re too late!” Cheryl muttered triumphantly. “I got her out! You lost!”
A slit of white appeared on the figure’s face, and it took Cheryl a moment to realize it was grinning, showing rows of sharp teeth incongruously white compared to its blackness.
And then, Cheryl saw it. The images that the figure undoubtedly forced into her mind. She saw snippets, like a fast-moving reel, but she understood everything.
She saw herself with a young woman in a cave, and it didn’t take long for her to deduce that the young woman was Erika, and Cheryl was actually Annette. She watched through her mom’s eyes as shadowy movement flitted throughout the cave and she stalked after it. She saw her mom reaching a dead-end in the passageway. There was a complex drawing on the wall, portraying a slender, black figure in front of a vèvè.
She saw through her mom’s eyes as the figure turned its head to face her, and her body felt frozen. She looked into the eyes of the figure and sensed unspeakable malice pouring from it. It saw her, and it hated her, just as it hated everything, and it decided right then that it would punish Annette for disturbing it.