Red Heather

by Aly Noble

  “Chicago…,” she mumbled into her water glass as she raised it to drink.

  “I’d say it’s an overnight then,” I teased. “Wow. What a date night.”

  “I know,” she grinned. “I’m way too excited. I shouldn’t be this excited, it’s not like we’re in the honeymoon phase anymore or anything.”

  “I think it’s awesome,” I said as I flicked condensation off my glass. “And why shouldn’t you be? That’s special to still feel that way after—how long?”

  “We started dating ten years ago,” Rose said. “Got married six years ago in January.”

  “Again—awesome,” I emphasized.

  “Okay,” she said, practically beaming now. “So I can bring the kids over. How early can you take them? Do you have to work?”

  “Not Friday,” I said. “I’ll have my week’s worth of work done by the end of tomorrow. Not much for me to do lately.”

  “So… Would three be okay?”

  “Is that enough time for you guys to get there?”

  She thought about that. “I think so, but two would be ideal. So we can get settled at the hotel and then go out.”

  “Then two works for me.”

  “Thank you again for doing this, Miri—I’ll owe you one. Big time,” she said, patting my hand.

  “What’s going on?” Bethaline asked, looking up from running her fingernail along a scratch in the table.

  “You and Axil are going to hang out with Miri on Friday,” Rose said, still glowing. She looked back at me. “Head’s up—I’ll probably be a nuisance for at least part of it. I’ve only been away from Bethaline a handful of times before and this’ll be the first time Axil will be out of my sight.”

  “I get that. Don’t worry about it,” I told her before looking at Bethaline. “Sound okay? Sleepover? I’ll do your hair.”

  “Yes!” Bethaline squealed and accidentally startled Axil, whose eyes got comically large.

  “Sounds like it’s settled,” I noted as Jill came by with our food. As Bethaline started digging into her macaroni side and Rose took a sip of her drink, I conspiratorially mumbled, “You can name your third kid after me as payback.”

  I hadn’t thought before then that it was possible to shoot that much water out of a human nose.

  • • •

  I left Jill’s with a full stomach and a smile that came from getting to spend time with Bethaline and Rose (and Axil of course, though he wasn’t much of a conversationalist). My water bottle sloshed on my hip as I jogged toward home from the very end of the block, feeling as if it was cheating to not finish the loop before going back. I supposed that was my anxiety kicking in, but it ultimately didn’t matter because I was going to do it anyway.

  I’d made it up past Willow Press’s nook off the road when I felt a knot forming in my right leg and hobbled to a stop to catch my breath. I hadn’t realized I was sprinting until I was feeling the effects. I pulled on the clip holding my water and swung the bottle into my palm to take a drink.

  The fluid that burst into my mouth tasted like pennies. I gagged and spat it out on the pavement.

  It was red.

  Gaping, I took a half-step back and unscrewed the top of the bottle, but there was only clear, clean water spinning lopsidedly inside. I cautiously probed my mouth with my tongue for any sores I may have opened, but I didn’t remember biting my cheek or anything.

  I checked everything. Coughed spit to see if it came out red, blew my nose against the back of my hand to see if it was the result of a bloody nose—every gross thing I could possibly do on the side of a public roadway, I did. And then I wiped my gross hands on my sweaty workout pants before regarding what I’d spat onto the asphalt. Against the road, it looked black, but the edges where the sunlight hit just right sparkled scarlet. I briefly considered going to whatever this town’s version of urgent medical care was. Rose’s house, I supposed.

  I’d only just begun to entertain the thought of an ulcer—if ulcers had symptoms this serious—when I realized the liquid had hit the ground in a weird way. The trajectory was all wrong. It wasn’t the Jackson Pollock splatter it should’ve been. It had fallen in lines.

  Frowning at it, I almost passed it by and attributed my suspicion to chronic overthinking, but it was such a strange thing amongst a recent slew of other strange things that I felt compelled to take a picture for later consideration. I slid my phone out of my back pocket and snapped a photo before sidestepping the splatter and heading home.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, I found myself in a Best Buy in Traverse City, presenting my catastrophe of a laptop to an underpaid sales associate. Based on the way his eyes bugged from his skull when I asked what my next steps were for either repairs or a new machine, it was safe for me to assume that he quit immediately afterward. Needless to say, I charged a new laptop to my credit card and went back to my Jeep.

  I fumbled with the keys, pressing a nail against the button until the lights blinked once and then again to unlock the back. When I opened the door and slid the bag onto the seat, my eyes fell to the reusable bag on the floor containing my collateral for the day’s purchases. Time to find a pawn shop.

  Shutting the back door on the bag and my feelings about it, I got behind the wheel and set my phone in the cupholder just as it rang. I fished it back out without looking at the screen and answered. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Miss James, it’s Trevor.”

  “Miri’s fine, Trevor,” I murmured as I started the car.

  “Oh, right—of course.” He paused when the radio turned on too loudly. “Is now a bad time?”

  “No, you’re fine,” I replied, hastily spinning the volume dial until the device gave a humble blip that meant it was muted. “Just leaving one errand to head to the next. I’m in Traverse City today.”

  “Oh!” he said with interest. “How are you liking it? I used to go to a lodge there with my boy scout troop when I was a kid.”

  “I’ve only been to the Best Buy off thirty-one so far, but I’m sure it’s nice,” I replied as I leaned forward to look past the windshield toward the sky. The forecast had promised rain, but the sky was a serene, uninterrupted blue.

  “Fun new purchase?”

  “More like technology woes. The least of my problems, but a big one.”

  He made a sympathetic noise in his throat. “Bummer. What else has been going on?”

  “Just stuff,” I said before admitting, “well, not just stuff. I’ve just been in a money-suck with the technology woes, and I also got hit with some window repairs and a hospital bill in the past few weeks.”

  “Window repairs?” he repeated. “And a hospital bill?”

  “I think the windows were, um, something with the pressure change. In the weather,” I said, thinking I should’ve mentioned it. Of course he’d be worried about accidentally setting me up with a structurally unsound place. “And I got into a car accident. I’m okay, but it threw me pretty out of whack.”

  “I can get the insurance company to come out and look at the windows, Miri,” Trevor said quickly. “Just let me know when—”

  “It’s really okay,” I said quickly. “I think it’s my fault, I had the heat on a bit high and… The point is, I’m going to ask my parents for a loan to get them fixed. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh, okay… What happened with the car accident? Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, like I said, it just threw me out of whack,” I said. “It was weird, but it worked out for the most part if it had to happen. Hey, you don’t happen to know a fair pawn shop in the area, do you?” I asked hopefully.

  “Hm…,” he murmured, and I heard running water in the background of the call. A metallic squeak told me it was probably a sink. “Actually, yeah. Hold on, I’m going to double-check my memory before I give you directions.” He was silent for a few minutes until he returned to the conversation with a quick set of instructions for how to get to Annie’s Jewelry and Pawn, which—according
to Trevor—was “nicer than it looks.”

  “Yeah, I’ll thank you after I see for myself that you’re not sending me to a deathtrap,” I teased him.

  He chuckled. “That’s fair. Anyway, I’m calling because your new maintenance hire request is in the finalization process. It usually doesn’t take this long to find someone, so I apologize for the wait on that.”

  “I honestly forgot about that,” I admitted. “But that’s great. When should I expect to see someone?”

  “Two weeks from today is probably a safe bet,” he replied. “Could even be sooner. If it is, I’ll let you know so there are no surprises.”

  “No more surprises, you mean?”

  He made an uncomfortable snorting noise. “Yes.”

  I allowed myself a smirk since he wasn’t there to see it. “Cool. Thanks for the update.”

  “Sure thing—thank you for your patience. And for not running out within the first two weeks,” he laughed, thinking that his joke was innocent enough.

  “Believe me, I thought about it,” I bantered back, though there was no humor to my statement.

  “You might be pushing for the record.”

  “Not purposely.”

  He laughed. “Well, congrats on your new tech purchase and your accidental record. I’ll update you with anything else that changes or comes up. Take care.”

  “You, too. Bye,” I replied, hanging up afterward. I thought back to his directions and pulled out of the nearly vacant parking lot, heading down the highway to another part of town. I found Annie’s, which was definitely the hole-in-the-wall place Trevor had made it out to be—however, the inside was more promising than the cookie-cutter exterior.

  I pushed the door open, and a bell chimed above the jamb. The counter was unsupervised, but only for a moment. Once the bell was on its last clangs, a short, curvy woman walked out of the back room.

  “Hi there,” she greeted me with a toothy grin. “What can I help you with?”

  “I have a few things to sell,” I replied, hearing another customer moving around the store nearby as I set my bag on the counter. Among the contents were a glass paperweight I’d gotten in grade school on a class trip, two very nice watches I’d been given for my high school graduation and had never worn, and a ballerina music box I’d splurged birthday money on in sixth grade.

  The woman—who I figured was probably Annie—watched me lay everything out with interest, nodding her head as she began her appraisal. “Is this everything?” she asked politely.

  I hesitated before lifting my hand and sliding off my engagement ring. Earlier that morning, I’d figured my person was the safest place for it, but I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge the emotional drive behind that decision.

  I placed my ring with the other offerings on the counter. “That’s it.”

  • • •

  After a fierce, but satisfying haggle war with Annie, I ended up walking out of the pawn shop with a check for just under twelve-hundred dollars. Most of it had come from the ring, which was worth about six times that—Dave would’ve shit down his leg if he’d known what I’d settled for as compensation and that was also satisfying in a slightly masochistic way.

  I found a bank and deposited enough of the check to cover my morning purchase, taking the rest in cash to use for my last stop. Even between my paycheck and the leftover money, I didn’t have nearly enough to fix my windows and I was tired of jumping every time a gust of wind smacked into the plastic sealing me in. That being said, I bit the bullet and called my mom on the way to the furniture store I’d passed en route to Best Buy and asked humbly for a loan. We then argued for fifteen minutes over whether it was indeed a loan and not a gift because I was tired of accepting free money from my parents only to have it thrown back in my face later on.

  I called a repair service while coasting through the store and explained my house’s predicament—they then referred me to another business in town who they thought would be better to handle my case. I made an appointment for them to come out in a week’s time, which I figured would give my parents’ wire transfer enough time to clear. I hung up the phone a half-hour later, and I’d just replaced my phone in my back pocket when it went off again. I answered it as I was bringing it up to my ear. “Hello?”

  There was silence on the other end.

  I glanced distractedly over the shelf of clocks next to me, insistently repeating, “Hello?” as the quiet stretched. When another five seconds had passed without an answer, I removed the phone from my ear and looked at the screen, which read “Unknown Caller.”

  I grimaced and hung up. “Fucking scammers.”

  I managed to replace almost everything that had gotten broken during the ghostly encounter. The casualties included but were not limited to the analog clock by my TV, a handful of lightbulbs still left to replace, a Galileo thermometer, and every single one of my drinking glasses—a lethal waterfall of glass shards had poured out of the cabinet when I’d opened the door to check on them. I also bought some plaster and a sample-sized can of paint to fix the divot my boxcutter had left in the wall. Somehow my TV hadn’t been harmed at least. This, I could be grateful for.

  And I guess I was fine, too, for the most part.

  Except for my fucking head, I complained mentally while the cashier started scanning my items in the checkout. I started running my fingertips over my scalp in search of my bald spot until they brushed stubble and the hard surface of a scab. Gross.

  I pushed the cart out to the car and loaded up the trunk, taking the short walk to the cart corral to sort out whether my errands for the day were done or not. I ended up heading back to Grendling—an hour trip spent with many hesitant glances into the rearview mirror. Driving was no longer done without an intense dose of anxiety each time. When I pulled into the driveway, I saw a familiar face lurking in the living room window. It should have scared me—and it did rattle me a little—but I was starting to grow annoyingly used to my unwanted housemate.

  He was the first to speak when I walked in. “Someone went shopping.”

  “Someone didn’t move out for very long,” I bantered back as I tugged the door shut behind me.

  Jonah scoffed quietly. “I didn’t move out at all.”

  “Clearly,” I said, setting my bags on the couch. “I just assumed you were on vacation or something since I didn’t see you for a record twenty-four hours.”

  “Oh, you missed me?”

  “More like I rediscovered the sensation of hope.”

  He smirked in spite of himself. “No such luck. What did you bring me?”

  “More shit to break,” I mumbled as I set my new laptop on the coffee table.

  “I fail to see how any of that was my fault,” Jonah replied.

  “I love how it’s my fault though,” I retorted.

  “You didn't take the hints to get out,” he reasoned, “so… Yes.”

  “Oh, yes. Let's call them ‘hints’,” I shot back sarcastically as I wound the cheap analog clock to replace the broken one on the TV stand. After setting it down and picking up the box of assorted glasses to deliver into the kitchen, I remembered what Rose and I had discussed and put the box on the counter to hunt down a sticky note. I quickly scribbled a reminder for myself and put it on the kitchen cupboard I was about to get into to stow away my new glassware.

  Jonah was lurking closer than usual to see my note, and when I opened the cupboard to put away the glasses, the door passed through his face. Against any sane reaction, I laughed at the sight. He gave me a look before verbalizing what my note said. “‘Kids Friday at 2’?”

  “I’m babysitting your friend Bethaline and her little brother so their parents can run away for a night,” I explained as I opened up the box with a steak knife.

  He contemplated that. “AM or PM?”

  “Dumbass or smartass?” I countered.

  Jonah cracked a smile. “Nice.”

  “Your voice sounds a little funny—catching a co
ld?”

  “Catching my death,” he said lightly, his tone normal again. Maybe it was my imagination.

  “How did you and Bethaline meet exactly?” I asked, standing on my toes to put away the last glass. “She kind of told me. You guys played by the creek behind the house?”

  “Well, that’s when she remembers first meeting. That wasn’t the first time,” he reasoned, leaning against the counter and watching me guide the cupboard door closed. “Considering I’ve been around since they brought her home for the first time.”

  “Bet Rose even slightly misses the days when she only had one baby to worry about,” I figured. “Not that she doesn’t love them both to pieces, but she always seems exhausted between family life and work.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s ever been ‘easier’ for them. Bethaline had some health complications that made things scary for them for a while.”

  This was news to me. “What kind of complications?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno. She was premature, first of all, but she had something else wrong with her… A few minutes after she was born, she technically died for about six seconds.”

  “Oh, my god.”

  Jonah nodded. “I’m pretty sure that’s why she can see me. Like, there’s the possibility that she might’ve had the sensitivity or ability to see me and other entities regardless, but from the moment our paths crossed, she saw me, talked to me… Everything.”

  “Would being technically dead for only six seconds really make that possible?”

  “Sure,” he said. “One second dead would’ve made it possible for her to become a revenant.”

  “A revenant?” I repeated, only vaguely familiar with the word.

  “Someone who dies and then comes back,” Jonah filled in for me. “Mythology hasn’t been very kind to them. They’re just humans who have seen the spirit world or whatever comes next for them.”

  For them… Interesting. I made a mental note of that. Something wasn’t adding up with him. Occasionally, when he talked about people, his vernacular would shift and he’d refer to us as “humans” or simply “them.” Had he really been dead so long that he didn’t identify with people anymore?