Harris

by Sarah J DiFalco

  Dylan shook his head and shrugged. He had no idea what was going on with that lady, and he had no desire to find out. He said his goodbyes to the security guard and God, then took off for Harris's room. He had his sign.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  "I know what this looks like. I seem crazy. You believe me though, right?" Harris broke the silence at the breakfast table.

  Dylan looked thoughtful, washing down a bite of breakfast with a sip of coffee. "I have to tell you something," he said. "Something happened in the hospital. I went to the chapel looking for answers. Not that I didn't believe you, but I just had to make sure I was doing the right thing."

  "You mean like should you have me committed," Harris interrupted.

  "Well yeah, or something like that. But I wanted to believe you so I went to a place where people go to get answers. I don't know if he answered me, or something else did, but I got my answer."

  Harris sat up, fully focused on Dylan. "What do you mean? What happened?" She crinkled her eyebrows together. "You saw something?"

  "No, not exactly. I just asked for a sign and the next minute the statue of the Virgin Mary was shattered all over the floor."

  Harris sighed. Well at least he believed her for sure, she thought. Unease filled her body a moment later. "Wait, you saw something. Something potentially supernatural? Dylan, you've never been open to that stuff, ever."

  "I know," Dylan replied. "It was so weird. I've never had anything like that happen to me. Maybe it WAS God."

  Harris sucked on her lip and frowned. "Maybe it was something else."

  "Well whatever it was, I'm glad it happened. It was what I needed." Dylan glanced at the bandage around Harris's wrist. She pulled her sleeve down to cover it. "Now that I know what you need, we are going to take care of this once and for all, no matter what it takes, starting with a friend of a friend. She can see us tonight so we are taking a little road trip."

  * * *

  Harris watched the buildings pass by her window. They had been driving for an hour down long boring highways, through dense woods, now they were cruising through a small rural town. They passed through Main Street, which was lined with small shops connected in a neat row on one side. The other side of the street boasted a theater and a post office. After Main Street, houses with quaint yards were scattered here and there and then the roads went on and were intersected by more roads in a typical suburban fashion. Dylan made a right turn on one of the long empty roads that intersected Main Street, beyond the last few houses. They drove past a farm and then it was just forest.

  "What sort of person are we seeing?" Harris asked.

  " I told you, she's a friend of a friend who knows something about all this," Dylan answered.

  "You mean another medium."

  "No not quite. She's something called Wiccan. It's like a religion," Dylan answered.

  "She's a witch," Harris said plainly.

  Dylan waved his hand while he emphasized his point. "No, that's not it. Paul said she's Wicca or Wiccan something. Not a witch."

  "Same," Harris nodded. Dylan huffed in response.

  They turned onto a dirt road that led up to a house on a hill, backed by plenty of trees. As they pulled up in front of the house, Harris noticed a small garden in the front yard. Wind chimes hung all around the front porch. Some were glass, some sea shells, some were metal. They made a beautiful sound. As Dylan and Harris approached the house Harris noticed a chime made of turtle shells. She scrunched up her nose.

  "Dylan, look," she said and pointed. His expression mirrored hers.

  "Welcome! You must be Dylan. And you must be Harris." The woman standing in the doorway had short blonde hair, cut just below her ears. She was dripping with jewelry. Every finger had one or two rings. Layers of necklaces jingled together as she moved, reminiscent of the wind chimes that hung around the porch. Silver and gold stud earrings lined her ears. A tiny gold stud dotted her nostril. As she gestured, her many bracelets and bangles clacked together, making more music. However, even with all of the jewelry, her eyes drew the most attention. Big, bright, doe eyes were almost hypnotic to Harris. "I'm Pearl."

  Pearl's home was clearly a reflection of her. Burnt down candles dripped wax over tables and books. An iron pentacle hung over a stone fireplace. Wax dripped over the mantle from spent candles. Small figures lined the hearth and other surfaces throughout the house.

  "Cozy," Harris said, half to Pearl, and half to herself.

  "Thank you. I like to practice in my home, please excuse the wax and soot. Candles and incense get a lot of use in this house," Pearl said, chuckling.

  Pearl led them into a back room, with shelves full of unusual looking jars and tubs. Harris examined a sealed jar as they passed by.

  'Jellied raven eggs' it read.

  Harris cringed. They better not be for eating, she thought to herself. A table with strange characters and symbols carved into it sat near a window in the back room. A black chandelier was both beautiful and eerie, hanging above the table. They gathered around the table. Pearl lit a candle in the center of the it.

  "You have a connection to the other side that you want broken, correct?" Pearl asked.

  Dylan nudged Harris's arm. She was hesitant. Of course she wanted to close this connection to the spirits that have been tormenting her for as long as she can remember. But, on the other hand, this curse was also a gift. She had received messages from people that had passed. People she knew and loved. What if her parents wanted to reach her, or Becca? It scared her to lose that chance. But it came with consequences. Consequences that killed her family, that killed her friends, that wanted to kill her.

  "Yes, that's correct," Harris forced out.

  Dylan held her hand. They watched as Pearl walked around the room, lighting more candles. She took a book down from a shelf and grabbed a jar and a spool of thread. Pearl set the items down on the table. She pulled scissors out from a drawer in the table, and a piece of red chalk. She ran her fingers along the symbols on the table. Flipping through her book, she found a spell. Pearl rubbed the chalk into one of the symbols on the table so that it filled in red, reading aloud the spell from the book. She blew the dust toward Harris. She opened the jar and cut a piece of thread from the spool.

  "This thread is your connection, your link to the other side. Spirits and demons alike are free to travel to you this way. I need a hair." She held out a hand.

  Harris looked confused, pointing to herself. Pearl nodded. Harris reached up and plucked a hair from her head. She winced. Pearl twisted the hair and thread together.

  "Tonight, we cut the ties that bind you to the world beyond ours. You will no longer be able to reach out to them, nor they to you." Swiftly she snipped the thread and hair in half with her scissors. She scooped up both halves and dropped them into the jar, then sealed it tight. She whispered to the jar, with her mouth inches away from it, "hoof and horn, hoof and horn, the path between living and dead be torn."

  Pearl handed the jar to Harris. "Bury this in your yard. Don't open it and don't throw it away."

  Harris looked down at the jar. Could it be this simple? This could be her new life, starting now. She looked up at Pearl, who was spraying water on the table and wiping away the chalk.

  "Thank you. Can we pay you for your help?" Harris asked.

  Pearl looked up and smiled. "Bury the jar. And come visit sometime. It gets lonely in the woods with these vegetables."

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  "That was...weird," Dylan said, getting dressed for bed. "Bury that damn jar, Harris."

  Harris sat in bed, studying the jar. She couldn't believe that this would work. She had already tried so many things. She wanted it to work so badly. "I will. It's late. Tomorrow will you help me?"

  "I will be there for moral support," Dylan smiled and leaned over for a kiss. He climbed into bed as Harris set the jar on her nightstand.

  She couldn't stop looking at it. What if it did work? Sleepiness poured over her, and Ha
rris surrendered.

  Harris stood in an elevator. She was alone. The numbers descended as Harris felt the familiar feeling in her chest of the elevator moving down. The doors opened. There were no creatures, no angry ghosts, no nice ghosts, just a lobby. People sat in chairs, smiling and chatting. Others walked towards whatever their final destination was. It was so...normal.

  The doors to the outside opened as she approached them. She cautiously stepped outside. The sun warmed her face. It felt amazing. Birds chirped in the distance. Dylan walked over from nowhere.

  "Hey, how'd it go?" Dream-Dylan asked.

  "Oh, uh, great!" She faked knowing what was going on. She was aware she was dreaming. That probably wasn't normal, but it wasn't scary, not like usual.

  "I'm so glad. Sorry I missed it, my beautiful wife." Dylan gushed at the word 'wife'.

  Harris tried her best to guess what was going on, but it was hopeless. "It's fine. I love you, my husband." That felt weird, but weirdly nice.

  "Let's go to Mom's," Dylan said, and in a blink, they were there.

  Harris realized she was in her childhood home. Dylan took her coat off and put it in the hall closet.

  "We're here!" Dylan yelled through the house.

  Mrs. Haim appeared from the kitchen, smiling. "Hey guys! Dinner is almost done. Hey baby." Harris's mother hugged her. It felt warm and safe.

  This wasn't her mother, or her mother's ghost. It was only a memory of her mother, replaying in her mind. There was a hollowness about her. No real soul there. That's how she knew. It was nice, but saddened her. Harris realized how much she missed her mom. This is how life could be, if it weren't for her demons.

  Dylan and Harris followed her mother into the kitchen. Her father sat at the kitchen island, reading a book and snacking on something. Her dream-father. She melted at the sight of his warm smile. God she missed her dad. Out the kitchen window, a dark streak ran past the window, startling Harris. Was that-?

  "Love bug, how's my favorite daughter?" He stood up and came around to hug her. He smelled like cookies and cologne.

  Dylan leaned in to Harris. "Ready for that baby yet?" He pointed down.

  Confused, Harris looked down. Her stomach was huge and round. She touched it gently. She looked back at Dylan.

  "You're pregnant," dream Dylan said, smiling.

  Harris's eyes popped open, taking in her dark bedroom. She put her hand on her mostly flat stomach. She knew it was a dream but touching her belly, it felt so real. She made a mental note to buy a pregnancy test just in case. Better than dreams with ghosts, she thought to herself.

  * * *

  In the morning, Dylan and Harris sat on the couch, lounging around.

  "It was clearly fake. I knew I was dreaming. I look down, and I have a huge belly," Harris retold her dream for Dylan.

  "You got fat?" Dylan laughed.

  "What? No. Pregnant!" Harris corrected.

  The color rushed out of Dylan's face. He looked down at Harris's belly, then back up at her face. "Haha, weird," he laughed nervously.

  "Oh calm down. I'm not a psychic. I'm supposedly not even haunted anymore. It was just a weird dream. Like normal people have. Isn't that exciting?" Harris beamed.

  "Yes, very exciting. Did you bury the jar yet?"

  "No. I just got up and have been here with you." Harris gave Dylan a look.

  "Well, let's go bury it."

  Outside, a light drizzle had started. Dylan used a shovel to break through the earth.

  "How far down do I have to dig this?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure. She didn't say. Maybe a couple feet?"

  "Feet?" Dylan said, sounding dismayed. "Okay. No problem."

  Nearing two feet, Dylan tossed aside the shovel. He gestured toward the freshly dug hole, ceremoniously. Harris stepped slowly towards the hole, staring at the jar. She studied it, carefully, spinning the jar gently. The thread pieces sat at the bottom of the jar, sliding from side to side as she turned the vessel.

  "I don't know. I feel...weird to say goodbye, but happy. This has been my life for a long time." Harris looked at the jar a moment more, then carefully placed it at the bottom of the hole.

  Dylan shoveled a heap of dirt over the jar, then another, then another. Finally, the jar was buried. The haunting of Harris Haim was over.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Harris sat in the coffee shop that she had dreaded going to now, ever since she had run out the last time. Her work laptop sat open. A mostly finished project stared at her, waiting. No matter how long she stared at her work, she couldn't focus. Everything felt so normal. She wanted to feel safe, but somehow still couldn't. She reasoned this was because feeling unsafe had been her natural state almost her entire life.

  Harris opened the document that she had spoken to Sam from. The cursor blinked. Harris placed her fingers on the keyboard.

  Hello?

  She waited for a few moments. The cursor blinked back at her confirming that she was free from her past life. Her life of fear was behind her. She pulled up her project and got to work.

  * * *

  Dylan was already home when she got home. Music played in the kitchen as delicious smells filled the air. Harris walked into the kitchen to see Dylan dancing while seasoning a pot of what smelled like tomato sauce. He spun around, startled to see his fiance.

  "Babe! I thought I had a little more time. Surprise! I wanted to treat you to a nice home-cooked meal," Dylan said through a wide smile.

  Harris came to the island and sat down. She was grinning from ear to ear. This was an unexpected surprise, but mostly she just loved to see Dylan so happy. He brought a ladle with a sample of sauce over for Harris to taste. Tomatoes, pepper, oregano, and garlic washed over her tongue in a warm wave. It was great. She gave a thumbs up as she savored the sauce.

  Dylan danced back over to the pot and stirred some more. Harris couldn't help but watch his butt move to the music. She giggled to herself. This was how life should be, she thought. Dylan turned back around after covering the sauce. He set a glass in front of Harris and poured some red wine into it. Harris took a sip.

  "So, I've been thinking. Your dream had my mind racing. It caught me off guard, but something just clicked. We should have a baby," Dylan said. He stared into her face with such joy, Harris could feel it radiating off of him.

  Harris inhaled, sending her sip of wine the wrong way. She hacked and coughed as the drink burned her windpipe. He lungs were on fire as she sputtered and coughed until her face went red.

  "Crap are you okay? I'm sorry. I should have waited until dinner. Actually wine is probably better than inhaling pasta," Dylan rationalized his timing. He was still beaming, although his face showed concerned, now.

  The coughing subsided and Harris collected herself, clearing her throat. She looked toward Dylan, but something darted past the kitchen window. A black figure, undefined and fast, flew by as she got ready to speak. Instead, Harris sat looking concerned, her mouth hanging open slightly.

  "Damn. Okay, I'm sorry I just sprung that on you. You are not taking this quite how I imagined. Don't worry. If you aren't ready, we can wait. I thought you wanted a family, so I was thinking-I don't know. Your dream just made me think the idea was already in your head. You looked really put off. Sorry babe," Dylan tried to regroup after seeing Harris's reaction.

  Harris shook her head to focus on Dylan. "No, Dylan it's not like that. I was surprised, but not in a bad way. I'm just seeing weird stuff I think." Harris wasn't sure what she saw.

  "Oh no. It didn't work. I'm sorry. I thought everything was good. It's okay. We can try something else next." Dylan said.

  "I'm not sure if that is it. I don't know what happened. I think it worked. Maybe it was just a shadow of something, a bird maybe."

  Dylan went back to smiling, but his eyes still squinted skeptically. "Oh. Okay, good."

  He turned back to his cooking. Harris finished her wine in one gulp.

  * * *

  Dinner was quiet.
Harris thought about babies. She always wanted a family, but the thought of starting a family was terrifying. She had never thought about how it would be. Dylan was smiling and making small talk for most of dinner. Harris knew he was just waiting for her to mull it over and give an answer.

  After dinner, they sat on the front porch, wrapped in a blanket together. Warm coffee helped keep the chill away as they snuggled and looked out at the night sky.

  "Let's do it." Harris said, cutting into the silent night. "Let's have a baby."

  Dylan turned so fast his coffee sloshed over the rim of his cup onto the blanket. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, hot. Really? Really you want to?" He was so excited her couldn't stop moving and making a mess with his mug.

  "I do. Why not now? The ghosts are gone. We are happy. Things are comfortable. Let's do it." Harris smiled. She could feel butterflies flipping around in her stomach. She could almost feel their baby flipping around in her stomach. Their baby.

  It was finally time to move forward with their life together.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The lights in the theater dimmed as the first preview started up. A man sat on the edge of a rooftop, dangling his feet. Gritty music played and an announcer’s voice boomed over the music.

  "If you knew you couldn't die, what would you do?" the voice said.

  Harris sipped her soda and soaked up the rest of the previews, nudging Dylan's arm every time she saw a preview for a movie that she wanted to see. The movie they were seeing was a comedy about two brothers who ended up falling for the same woman after inheriting a decaying cabin. Harris and Dylan laughed and shared glances together through the whole film.