The Fade

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The Fade Page 9

by Demitria Lunetta


  “So what happened?” I ask, grabbing a wing before they’re all gone.

  “He said I’m too young.” He sighs.

  “Translation: ‘I’m just not that into you,’ ” Sera says, though not unkindly.

  “Not exactly a lot of guys to choose from here, huh?” I ask.

  He grins. “You’d be surprised.”

  “But a ton are on the down-low,” Sera adds.

  “Yeah, I didn’t like living in the closet. It’s too stuffy in there.” He shoots me a wink.

  Ricky returns with our pizza.

  “That was really fast,” I say.

  “I snagged one from another table. Old ladies never tip well and they’re going to complain anyway, so they can wait an extra fifteen minutes.”

  The pizza is square and thick and dry and pretty gross. I try to be polite and poke at it with my fork, but my face must show how I really feel.

  “Not like Chicago pizza?” Sera asks.

  “Not exactly.” I take another unpleasant bite. “Chicago pizza is crispy dough and tons of toppings, and just the right amount of sauce.” I look down at my current pizza and push it away, my lip curled.

  “Honey, take it from me: there’s no point drooling over what you can’t have,” Josh tells me.

  “You must miss Chicago a lot.”

  “I do.” I tell them about my friends. Mike, who is way into sports, and Darren, who loves graphic novels. He always wanted me to draw stuff for him. And Raina, who is up for anything. I wonder how her date with Gina went. I thought she would call me to gossip, but she hasn’t.

  “Well, now you have us,” Josh says. “I mean, it’s been all of two days, but if contacting the dead together doesn’t create a lifelong bond, I don’t know what will.”

  I smile, unsure if he’s being sarcastic. “No offense, but as soon as I graduate, I’m out of here,” I say. “If I can get a scholarship to an art school back in the city, I’m set.”

  “I would love to go to college in Chicago,” Josh says. “We can all be roommates!”

  “I am not moving,” Sera proclaims. “I like it here.”

  “You’ll move if I go,” Josh tells her.

  “Yeah, I probably would.” She grins. “And think of the ghosts that must be there! On Serial Killer Files they talked about H. H. Holmes and how he may have killed hundreds of people.”

  “Why are you so into ghosts, anyway?” I ask.

  Sera shrugs and Josh cuts in, “Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no story. Her parents didn’t die. She wasn’t haunted as a child. She didn’t grow up near a graveyard.”

  “Ghosts just intrigue me,” Sera says. “Something out there that goes beyond explanation. When we were young, Josh liked dinosaurs and I liked ghosts.”

  Josh nods. “Then I was really into the planets and the solar system….”

  “And I still liked ghosts.”

  “But that’s when you started calling them apparitions. Oh, remember when I wanted to be in the Olympics?”

  “That was because you liked the idea of being in the Olympic Village with all those really fit men.”

  “Yes, but the point is that you were still into supernatural crap.”

  “Yeah, and when I started dating…Coop”—again his name is said like it’s a bad word—“that’s when I wanted to learn more about serial killers. His poor sister. But he would never answer any of my questions, so eventually I stopped asking.”

  “It kind of makes sense he wouldn’t want to talk about it,” I mutter.

  Josh rolls his eyes. “Even if him being a dick makes sense, he’s still a dick.” He’s one thousand percent on Sera’s side.

  “But anyway,” Sera continues, “now my interest—”

  “Obsession,” Josh cuts in.

  “—has paid off.” She finishes her square of pizza and reaches for another. Between the two of them, they’ve demolished it, so I don’t feel so bad not paying. All I ate was one lousy chicken wing.

  My phone buzzes. “It’s Coop,” I inform them. “He said I can come over whenever.”

  Another buzz, with him explaining he was in the shower and didn’t see I’d texted till a moment ago. Then another asking when I thought I’d be there.

  “We’d better go.” I text him that I’m at lunch but I’ll be heading over soon.

  “Let’s do it!” Sera says excitedly.

  Josh makes a face and lets out a little sarcastic “Yaaaaay.”

  I laugh. “Thanks for coming with…even though I know you don’t want to.”

  “Where Sera goes, so go I,” he tells me with an accepting shrug.

  “He’d be lost without me,” Sera says as she pays and we say goodbye to Ricky.

  Up until a few days ago, I felt I’d be lost without Raina. But now…As we get into the car I watch the cousins bicker.

  Now I’m glad I’m not in this alone.

  SERA PARKS IN my driveway. I offer to let them wait inside, but Josh refuses to enter my house. I undo my seat belt and lean up between the front seats. “Sera, be honest. Did Coop really seem unstable?”

  She flashes a look at Josh, who makes a tight face. Nodding, she says, “It got pretty bad for a while. One day he’d be totally into me, and the next it was like it was hard for him to look at me. I…I don’t know why I didn’t just break up with him. And I don’t know why he finally let me go.”

  “And you don’t care,” Josh adds.

  “Right. He was a terrible boyfriend.”

  “And is a terrible person.”

  “Thanks for the reassurance, guys.”

  “Are you sure you want to go alone?” Sera asks.

  “Yeah. It’d be super suspicious if all three of us showed up.”

  I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.” I get out of the car and walk through the yard to Coop’s house. He must have been looking out the window, waiting for me, because he bursts out his door wearing his megawatt smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.” I follow him into his house. The air is a bit stale and the living room is messy—what you would expect from a family with two boys. He offers me a soda, and I take it just to have something to hold.

  “Where’s Chris?”

  “Playing Call of Duty.” Chris is playing the video game with his headphones on. He doesn’t even look up when we enter the living room.

  I’m glad he’s distracted. “Are your parents home?”

  “My dad’s at work, and my mom is resting in her room.”

  I must look extremely awkward, because Coop asks, “Haley, is something wrong? You didn’t call just to hang out, did you?”

  Okay, I’m not cut out for spy work. Maybe I can just tell him the truth.

  “Look,” I say, walking back to the kitchen and putting the soda down on the counter. “I wanted to talk to you about that drawing of your sister.”

  His face darkens. “Yeah, what the hell?”

  “I’m going to tell you something you might not believe.” So I do. I tell him about the weird stuff going on in my house. How I blacked out and drew the picture of his sister. How I got trapped in the chest in the basement. I tell him about everything, including the research we’ve already done. “I need to know more,” I say. “I need your dad’s files.”

  “You think my sister is dead, not just gone?” He doesn’t look surprised.

  “Coop. I think all the girls who were taken are dead.”

  “And you believe they’re all haunting your house?” He sits at the kitchen table and I sit next to him, torn between comforting him and telling him all the things Chris told me. I don’t know how much he’s shared with his brother, and Chris hinted that Coop doesn’t believe him anyway.

  “I know it sounds weird.”

  He nods. “Yeah, but th
ere’s a lot of wild shit that goes on. She’s dead,” he says, putting his face in his hands. I’m surprised he believes me so readily.

  “So has Chris—”

  “Let’s keep Chris out of this,” he snaps.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s just…Chris is messed up. He thinks he sees the ghosts of the missing girls.”

  “And what if he does?” I ask quietly.

  “Don’t. Don’t feed into his delusions.”

  “Do you think I’m delusional too?”

  “No. It’s different.”

  “How?” I ask.

  “Chris was only five when Emily disappeared. It messed him up so much. I didn’t know what to do. My parents were no help. My dad was a wreck, and my mom completely checked out. Shit, she still hasn’t recovered. She probably never will.”

  I nod. I can’t imagine what that would be like for a family to go through.

  “I wanted to comfort Chris, but I was only ten and I didn’t really know how. So I told him things.”

  “What things?”

  He sighs. “I told him that our sister wasn’t gone. That she was watching over him. That he didn’t have to be afraid. That all the girls were just across the yard in the house.”

  I let out a slow breath.

  “Yeah, I know. Stupid.” He shakes his head. “Chris ran with that idea. He told our parents he could see people’s spirits. I warned him not to, to stop lying, but he insisted. It landed us both in therapy.”

  “Does the therapy help?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’s just gotten better at not talking to people about it. That’s why I’m surprised he told you. He must like you. It must run in the family.” He gives me a weak, halfhearted smile.

  “So why would you believe me?” I ask at last.

  “You didn’t grow up here, hearing the stories. I never know…Like with Sera. Half the time I thought she was just into me because of my dead sister. I never knew if she liked me for me—if anyone does, or if they just pity me.”

  “That sucks so much, Coop. I’m sorry.”

  “So when you come along, not knowing anything, and say weird shit is happening, I believe you. I believe my sister is dead. I believe she could be haunting your house. But I don’t believe for a second that my little brother sees her. Can we keep him out of this?” He seems so desperate.

  “Okay, yes. I promise,” I say, my stomach sinking. Chris was the one person I thought could help me.

  “My parents have always had the hope that she’s alive,” he tells me, interrupting my thoughts. The sadness in his voice melts my heart. I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “But what kind of life could she have? If someone took her, she’d have been captive for five years, someone’s prisoner….It’s destroyed my parents, thinking about it.” He looks up at me. “But there’s also the hope that maybe, just maybe, she ran away. Is living in California or Texas or somewhere, alive and well and working a normal job. She could even have a family.” His head jerks up suddenly. “There are boxes and boxes of papers in the garage. My dad would kill me if I let someone take them.”

  “Would he notice if just a few files were gone?”

  “Oh, he would notice.” I can’t hide my disappointment. “You can come over another time and look, I guess.”

  “Why not now?”

  He glances at the clock. “My dad will be home from his shift soon. But I’ll try to work something out. As long as you keep your promise.”

  I nod. “No more ghost talk with Chris.”

  “We’ll have to be really careful so my dad doesn’t lose his shit. He’s really protective of those files.”

  “Okay. Yeah.” I stand, and Coop follows me.

  “You don’t have to leave, Haley. We can hang out. Watch a movie in my room.”

  “I really should finish unpacking.”

  Just then, the door opens and a man shuffles through. He’s probably around fifty, with a paunch that pushes against the fabric of his blue uniform. He looks a bit like Coop, but his face is lined, his mouth turned down.

  “Hey, Dad,” Coop calls.

  His dad grumbles a reply and walks into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Your mother resting?” he asks.

  “Yeah…but she was up today.” Coop sneaks an embarrassed glance at me. “She watched a movie with Chris.”

  Mr. Cooper grunts, then turns and looks at us, realizing I’m there for the first time. He raises his eyebrows at Coop.

  “This is Haley,” Coop explains. “She just moved into…” He stops, thinks better of it. “She just moved to town this week.”

  Coop’s dad nods, looks me up and down. “Welcome to Gladwell, Haley. It used to be a great place to live.”

  “Um, thanks,” I say, running my hand through my hair.

  Lightning fast, Coop’s dad closes the distance between us and grabs my arm. It’s not very rough, but it surprises me and I yelp.

  Coop looks horrified. “Dad, what…?”

  “Where did you get that ring?” he asks, tracing the pearl with his finger.

  “I found it,” I tell him, not liking how close he is.

  “Where?” he demands, his grip tightening.

  “Dad, what the hell?” Coop yells, and Mr. Cooper drops my arm.

  “In the basement of the house I moved into,” I say. I’m not sure what to do, so I take the ring off and hand it to him.

  He studies it. “This is my daughter’s ring.”

  Coop and I exchange a glance. “Dad, how can you be sure? It’s just a ring.”

  The man looks up. “Maybe you’re right.” The color drains from his face, and he roughly pulls out a chair and sits down, hard.

  “Hi, Dad.” Chris walks in then, headphones still on. “Haley, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, little dude,” Coop tells him.

  “You can keep the ring,” I say to Mr. Cooper. “I was just leaving,” I tell Chris. I brush past him, down the steps and to the sidewalk.

  “See you later,” Coop calls after me. When I turn back he mouths, “Sorry.”

  When I get back to the car and catch my breath, I tell Josh and Sera what happened. I immediately feel bad when Sera says, “I always knew there was something wrong with that kid!”

  “So Coop is willing to accept that Emily is dead and haunting your house, but not that his little brother is some kind of conduit to the spirit world? That’s where he draws the line?” Josh says incredulously. “Does that seem reasonable?”

  “I’m losing sight of what is and isn’t logical right now,” I admit.

  “You and me both, honey,” Josh tells me.

  It’s hot in the car, and I feel sticky and uncomfortable. “Are you sure you guys don’t want to come in?” I ask.

  Sera nods, but Josh says, “Hell to the no.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, then,” I say. As I lug my backpack out of the car, my sketchbook slides out. The pages fall open and Josh freezes.

  “Haley…when you sketched the pictures of the missing girls at the library, did you use artistic license?”

  “I…” I’m not sure what he’s asking. I’m not the best artist in the world, but I’ve practiced enough that I know I can draw a portrait accurately. “I tried to copy their photos exactly.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” He holds the book out to me.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Sera asks.

  I stare at the sketches, turning the pages to confirm my suspicion.

  I drew each girl with a look of pure horror on her face.

  Each one is missing her eyes.

  * * *

  Dad and Shannon are nowhere to be found when I go inside; they probably decided to get lunch without me. Hopefully they’ll br
ing home leftovers, because I’m starving.

  I find some chicken nuggets in the fridge and throw them in the microwave. While I wait for them to cook, I give Raina a call. She sounds flustered when she answers. “What?”

  “Oh, sorry. I just thought you’d want to know how my bizarro life is going,” I tell her with a huff.

  “I was going to call you, but I’m out with Gina…,” she says. I hear muffled laughter.

  “Oh, right, I forgot. Girlfriend trumps best friend.” I’m not being fair, but I can’t help it. I’m annoyed she’s blowing me off again.

  “Is it really that bad there?”

  “Worse.” I want to tell her everything, but what could she do, even if she believed me? “Look, we’ll just talk later. Have fun on your date.”

  “Yeah, I promise I’ll call you la—”

  I hang up on her before she can finish. I pick at the chicken, but it tastes like cardboard. I end up throwing half of it away.

  As I’m putting my plate in the sink, I spot Chris in the backyard. He’s staring at me through the window. I assume he wants an explanation of what just happened at his house, but when he sees I’ve spotted him, he runs away across the yard and disappears into the trees. I bark out a laugh. This is actually one of the least strange things to happen to me lately.

  I go upstairs, sit on my bed, and stare at the drawing of Emily. There’s so much I don’t know. What happened to you?

  I start at the sound of the front door opening and footsteps downstairs. Dad and Shannon are back. I open my door and call down the stairs, but there’s no reply. More footsteps.

  I slowly walk down the stairs and through the living room. The door to the basement is open. I think about what Josh said. About that scene in movies where a character has a choice to stay or go. And my life has become a real live ghost story. I take a deep breath to steel myself. I don’t think of myself as brave, but if this is the work of the Gladwell Girls, why would they hurt me? They were victims. More likely it’s just my family home from lunch.

  I walk slowly toward the basement door. “Shannon?” I call. “Is that you?” I place my foot on the first step and fiddle with the light switch, hoping it will miraculously work. It doesn’t. “Dad?”

 

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