October Darlings

by Wendolyn Baird

  I search the non-fiction section first, expecting the fiction aisles to be nothing but fairy tales. Unfortunately, I find absolutely nothing in the first section, and even less credible sources in the second. Why can’t there be a section for how to handle hauntings or unidentified magic? If I wanted to read about the fifty thousand supposed hauntings in the state I would, but I don’t.

  Groaning, I drop my head onto an open book and lay halfway on the table, staring absentmindedly at the distorted wall of glass. So much for libraries being infinite collections of knowledge.

  My phone buzzes in my bag, rattling against the steel of my water bottle, and I jump. No librarian is nearby, but I’ve been kicked out of enough libraries to be worried.

  Walking over to the grill for lunch break. See you there? —Ellis

  I hold back a smile, running my thumb over the keyboard. I didn't even give him my number, but I wouldn't put it past Delia to jot it down. I wonder if she’d feel the same way if it was Nick who was trying to text me. Not that we’ve talked at all since the day at Nix House.

  Be there soon.

  I text Ellis quickly and return my books to the rack, waving politely at the security guard as I leave. The day has grown hotter in the last few hours, and trekking down the street, every step reminds me that I should have taken the car.

  My headband keeps sweat from running down my face, but it can’t stop my hair from turning into a sodden mess. This is why I carry extra deodorant in my bag at all times. This is why I need a water bottle at all times. As much as I love Texas, sometimes I really hate Texas. Seasons don’t tend to exist outside of summer.

  Dashing into the bathroom before anyone can see me, I hurriedly blot at my face and wipe the smeared eyeliner away from the tops of my cheeks. Laying a damp paper towel at the back of my neck, I throw on another layer of deodorant and wait for the cool air to wash the heat from my veins. Note to self, always, always, always bring the car.

  “So, is there anywhere else to eat around here?” I ask Ellis as I settle over my chili cheese fries. Five minutes and a new coat of lipstick definitely pulls my look back together, but now that I’m trying to eat, the lipstick feels a little silly.

  “Not really. There’s a little barbeque place a little further out, a taqueria that’s good but always packed, and that's about it. Are you feeling any better now?”

  “Who said there was anything wrong with me?”

  “Please. You and Delia were acting even stranger than usual and after our discussion last night, I’m pretty sure I know you better than anyone else does around here now.”

  “Says you.” I stick my tongue out at him, drawing another slight smile from his quiet countenance, and my stomach does a flip.

  “Addie?” Nick approaches stiffly, his hands in his pockets and a wounded expression on his face. My stomach flips again, this time knotting up as it goes.

  “Hey, Nick.” The chili is suddenly too hot against my taste buds, and the cheese too thick. I’m ninety percent positive I’ve smeared my lipstick again, and a new sheen of sweat breaks out over my scalp.

  “What are y’all up to?”

  “Just taking our lunch break.” I reply, kicking Ellis from under the table. Please don’t say anything about me being off work, please...

  “Yeah.” Ellis backs me up. “Just eating lunch.”

  “Cool, cool.” Nick nods. “You’re going to the thing tonight, right?” It sounds like he’s asking us both, but he only looks at me. His back is completely straight and there’s a tight expression on his face that doesn’t suit him at all.

  “Of course. I’m George’s ticket out of the house, remember?” If it’s at all possible, the restaurant is even hotter than it was outside, and I have to press my hands against the table to keep from fanning myself.

  “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll see you there, I guess.” He flicks his gaze up and down my face while fidgeting with his pockets. His eyes are smoldering, but the smile on his face is brittle and doesn't quite match the one I remembered.

  “Yup,” Ellis pipes up. “You’ll see us both there.”

  I flush, waiting until Nick's out of earshot before turning back to Ellis. “What was that about?”

  He just shrugs and takes a bite of burger. “He’s Owen’s friend, not mine.”

  IT TURNS OUT THAT SABRINA isn’t free after all, so Delia has me hang around the shop, having me paint the windows instead of allowing me in the back. My shoulders strain from stretching up near the ceiling, but the work is monotonous and time consuming, allowing my mind to take a break. By the time Ellis clocks out, the glass is decorated in poorly executed paintings of pan dulce, and cookies, croissants, and coffee mugs... and I’m almost convinced I might sleep well tonight.

  Twice, I try to catch Delia’s attention long enough to press her for more information, but she’s so maddeningly calm about the whole situation, I don’t think she understands how freaked out I am. It would be so much simpler if I could just trust that whatever spirit is plaguing me would go away, but every time I start to bring it up, she says that there’s nothing to worry about and that dreams are just dreams.

  Still, no matter how familiar with my relatives I become, some energies remain too daunting to get used to. The closed off rooms I avoid as much as possible, and the hallway downstairs is still a blackhole I can’t stand to pass. Like the shadow figure that keeps popping up outside the window when I’m half asleep, there are secrets to the house I’m still terrified to uncover.

  It’s a good thing I have other things to distract me.

  “I am so ready!” George throws his fist in the air before climbing into the backseat, and the wild grin on his face is infectious.

  Miranda shows up in the back of her sister’s van with Sabrina at her side and a few people I don’t know crammed beside them. Owen, surprisingly, is busily helping erect a canopy in the middle of the clearing, while his friends carry ice chests of drinks and food over to set beneath it. Nick, and another group I’m assuming are Sabrina’s theater friends, argue over the film reel, and solar lamps are staked into the ground, marking the tree line.

  “Don’t drink too much of anything,” George warns me as he jumps out of the vehicle. “The nearest bathroom is a good fifteen-minute drive down the road.”

  “Charming.”

  “That’s George,” Ellis shrugs. Holding himself awkwardly, he sticks his thumbs through his belt loops and sways closer to me, like he’s debating something in his head. “Do you want anything? I’m going to go and help set up the snacks,” he says nodding at the half-assembled canopy.

  “No.” I hold up my camera and shut my door with the side of my hip. “I’m good.”

  Laughter grows louder as the sun goes down. The first shower of fireworks is just visible beyond the treetops, and the smooth cliffside is soon awash with the lights from the projector.

  Eventually I figure I ought to go introduce myself to Sabrina’s other friends, but they’re perfectly content talking to each other, and their easy friendship makes my chest ache. Every single time I start to feel like I belong, something reminds me how dismally on the outside I still am. Ellis is still busy near the canopy, George is handing out sparklers I didn’t know he had, and Sabrina’s so involved in her conversation I doubt she’s even noticed I showed up.

  So, when the movie can’t hold my attention anymore, I creep around the edges of the group, relishing the way their faces light up in the glow of the film. The careless atmosphere is almost uplifting, and for a while, I can just be me again. No strife or mysteries. No unanswered questions or sleepless nights. Just me. It’s bittersweet, but it works.

  The moment ends too soon.

  Whispers brush along the tree line and slips of deep violet wind through the dark branches. As much as I want to stay put, my feet move forward on their own. I’m powerless against the quiet siren of the night.

  My camera drops against my torso as my hands fall to my side, and an unnaturally cool breeze lifts the wa
rm air. The grass scratches at my shins, and as my eyes adjust to the fading light, the calls grow stronger. I can’t make out what they’re trying to say, but it sounds like a foreign tongue. Whatever it means, or wants, one thing is for sure. I’m the only one who can hear them. Do they feel as alone as I do?

  I wander farther from the safety of our makeshift drive-in, knowing full well how bad this can get. Even so, I push on while the shadows dance around me, warning me of dangers yet to come. My heart thuds against my ribs, my skin turns clammy, and the prickle at the back of my neck turns into a fully-fledged chill creeping down my backbone. Every vertebra the cold passes causes my muscles to tighten more, and I throw a glance back at the well-lit glade. My lungs fill quickly and shallowly, as I drag my unwilling heels into the forest.

  I could be walking to my doom, and nobody would ever know. And here I thought I wasn’t reckless.

  “Hello?” I heed Delia’s instructions, announcing my presence. You greet folks— she’s told me a hundred times, usually while scattering sprinkles or flour while she speaks. On the other hand, all of Sabrina’s books said not to let an unknown entity know your name. Better keep that part out.

  The occasional crack of explosives overhead lights my way for seconds at a time. Reflective eyes of the nightlife scurry away, as frightened of the noise as I am of the dark. A low flute-like song harmonizes with the crackles and creaks in the air, a clashing, distorted tune. It reminds me of a nursery rhyme but dragged down and torn to pieces.

  I knew this was a terrible idea.

  So why can’t I stop walking?

  My boots splash into an unexpected liquid, and staring at my feet while another stream of fireworks light the sky, I scream as I’ve never screamed before, my voice tearing through the night as my soul nearly jumps from my body. Pooled around me, thick, and so darkly crimson it’s almost black, is a deep puddle of blood coating my boots.

  I’m cemented to the spot as the purple shades leave me, betraying themselves as nothing more than bait. A horrid mass of shadows creeps forward, inching out like snakes writhing towards my form, every foot closer, a moment nearer to my inevitable demise.

  My heart skitters in its place, and somewhere beyond me, my wail continues on, echoing into the night even as my lungs cease. Frank tightens around my wrist, just a pretty trinket after all.

  Taller, leaner, and more threatening than before, the shadow stalker itself emerges from the foliage. No wind accompanies it, but as it draws closer, I’m nearly knocked off my feet from sheer horror.

  Footsteps crash behind me, a cascade of flashlights and lanterns swinging through the wood, until the wavering figure shrinks back, hidden behind the brush once more. Most of the guys, and some of the girls stumble my way, an army to my rescue. But when I turn to them, they shrink away.

  In the light that the others bring, I see now that the ground isn’t still at all. In place of the shadows are a thousand squirming scorpions, climbing, and falling over one another in waves as they flock to my feet, stopping just shy of the puddle. My once pearl colored boots are stained in blood, and the world tilts around me. My stomach jerks and beyond the writhing arachnids, I expect to see a dead animal. But there’s nothing.

  Sabrina shoves forward first, her eyes gleaming in the inconsistent light. Nick follows closely behind, and just after him is Ellis, gaping in horror. If I move, the scorpions will attack, but if I don’t... well I can’t just let the blood seep into my boots, I can’t!

  I keep my mouth shut tight, not daring to speak in case another shriek comes out. The ground is softening beneath my heels, and the liquid creeps up the sides of my feet. Trembling where I stand, I stare steadily at the crowd. If I look down, I’ll most likely pass out, and if I look at the scorpions, I don’t know what will happen.

  In the forefront, the bravest edge forward, contemplating ways to get me free of the scorpion nest, but I can hear the rest of the murmurs behind them. The accusations and speculations, the knowledge that there is something inherently wrong with me. After all, there must be. How else would I end up amongst the scorpions and blood?

  The dark brown arachnids continue their fight towards me, some falling headfirst into the red liquid, others clawing at the air near my feet. My head whirls, though I’m fairly sure I still haven't moved, and anxious arms reach towards me.

  It doesn’t matter, they’ll never reach me in time.

  I muster the last vestiges of my courage to look down, just in case there’s a way out I haven’t found yet.

  A splotch of thick crimson slides over the top of my boot, and the next thing I know, I’m falling.

  THE WANING MOON GLINTS overhead with sparks of blues and violets crashing in front of it. My nostrils fill with smoky air, and my head is too heavy to lift on my own.

  Worried voices argue nearby, but a fluster of other noises overshadow them. Turning my head to the side, I get a sideways view of the glade; the canopy being broken down, the ice chests getting carried back to the cars, and a few vehicles already driving off. Beneath my cheek is the scratchy edge of a beach blanket, and my water bottle is tucked against my side.

  An awful nausea dries out my mouth, and I barely have enough strength in my arms to raise myself to the grass to avoid getting sick on myself. My vision blurs with tears, and I cling to the edges of the fabric as I lose my stomach.

  “Addie!” Cool hands rush to my cheeks, pulling my hair back as my cheeks blaze.

  I try to wave Ellis off, but my stomach spasms again, and all I can focus on is oh my god, I’m puking in front of everyone.

  Nick and George talk quickly above me as my body betrays me, and the next thing I know, Sabrina is kneeling at my side on the other side of Ellis. She takes over holding my hair, gathering the falling strands expertly and sighing sympathetically as I gasp for air.

  “I swear to god, I didn’t do anything!” George is arguing. “Pranks are one thing, but spiking drinks isn't funny; it’s wrong, no matter what you put in them!” He sounds furious and offended, and I don’t blame him.

  “Nobody did anything to me,” I sputter out. “I’ve only had water from my bag, and I packed it myself.”

  “See!” He growls at Nick. Nick, who flinched away when he saw me. I can hardly believe he’s still around; almost everyone else seems to have taken off.

  “She’s probably just in shock,” Ellis agrees. He hovers over me protectively, still glancing at the trees from time to time. Does he expect something to come out of them? “Addie, do you remember anything from before you passed out?”

  I sit up and back away from the foul-smelling grass with Sabrina’s help, shaking my head. I don’t want to remember.

  Sabrina tucks my hair behind my ear and squeezes my arm as I shut my eyes tight. Where did my headband go?

  “It’s okay to be frightened of your gifts, but you’re freaking incredible. Try to remember that. It’s going to be okay.”

  “Gifts? What gifts?” George asks. “Come on, Sabrina. You don’t really believe what those vampire nerds are saying?”

  “Those vampire nerds are my friends. And they’re like, eons cooler than you are.”

  I rinse out my mouth and accept a piece of gum from Nick’s outstretched hand. “Alright,” he says. “I got to go help take down before she gets here. Miranda’s flipping out that her mom might show up too.”

  “What are they saying? And before who shows up?” I try to look around at the remaining faces, but damn! Moving my head hurts!

  God, I hope they didn’t call an ambulance or something.

  “Well, you know I’m not exactly a ‘call the grown ups’ kind of guy... but things were looking pretty bad,” George starts. His feet shuffle around, twisting up in the towel as he fidgets.

  “Bad?” Sabrina exclaims. “She looked like a freaking queen of all darkness! I call that badass. Y’all just don't appreciate the extraordinary.”

  “Yeah, yeah, graveyard girl, we got your take.” George scowls at Sabrina.

&nb
sp; “Guys, cut it out!” Ellis commands, displaying a rare moment of stern reproach. “Sabrina, get your friends out of here before they start spreading rumors. George, all contraband needs to go.”

  “On it!” George salutes Ellis in mock sincerity but rushes off anyway. Sabrina trails behind him, her voluminous curls bouncing against her shoulders.

  “Come on, let’s get you back to the car.”

  “Ellis, what happened?” I ask him as he holds an arm out for me to lean on as he leads me towards the makeshift parking lot. “How did y’all get me back here?”

  “What do you remember?” In the flashing light of the fireworks and dim glow from the lamps, his honey colored eyes are a deep amber, still as stone and as serious as death.

  “Scorpions... and blood. Where did the blood come from? Did you see?”

  He frowns at me, pulling me close in case I grow faint again. “We don’t know, but there’s no way you should have even been able to get to it. You were in the middle of a nest, and when you fell...”

  “What happened when I fell?”

  “They swarmed you. I honestly thought they were going to kill you, so a few of us rushed forward to pull you out.”

  “Risking getting attacked yourself?” Alarm pulses through me as I consider him leaning into that throng of venomous creatures, even if he was to try to help me. Maybe especially so. Who am I to be asking him to put himself in danger for me? And isn’t that what I’ve inadvertently asked him to do by having him get involved with my problems?

  “It doesn’t matter, they scattered. Like drops of oil in water. I’ve never seen anything like it, and not a single one stung you.”

  “No wonder Sabrina is talking about darkness,” I grimace. Dropping my head on his chest, I listen to his steady breathing to better ignore the pounding in my skull. This isn’t fair to him.