Harris

by Sarah J DiFalco

"I'm not on a visit. I think I was crushed," Harris said. She was hoping that this was part of the ritual, but she couldn't be sure.

  "Oh, shit. Well, there goes my ride. Sucks, you were easy to find." Sam shrugged. "Guess you're stuck here. Don't ask how to move on. If I knew I would have, trust me."

  "Was that you? In my room?" Harris asked. "The toy. You typed it on my computer. The prayer."

  "That wasn't me. I mean, I typed, but it wasn't all me. You were an easy ride in so who knows? Could have been anyone. Not a demon. They don't talk, or type. They hurt."

  Harris felt a soft brush across her leg. She jumped. It was impossible to see anything through the thick fog on the ground. Sam gave her a puzzled look. Harris watched the fog roll around as something beneath disturbed it, circling them like a shark circling its prey. It turned wide then headed toward Sam. She followed Harris's gaze down to the fog as the thing approached her.

  "Harris, what did you do?" Sam's eyes were intense and fearful. She looked at Harris then back at the fog, stepping backwards slowly, then faster. Long dark hair twisted up her legs and wrapped around her torso. She looked back up at Harris and surrendered without a fight. In an instant, she was sucked down under the fog. There was no scream or shout. There was no struggle. Sam was just gone.

  Harris froze. She scanned the fog for any signs of movement. Paranoid, she ran in the other direction. Not too far, she thought. Where are you Petr? The fog began to swirl about. Harris looked around, searching for another soul, but there was nothing. Not even a demon. Something didn't feel right. A rolling rumble crossed under Harris's feet. She felt the air pulsate. A shadow in the distance rose up from the fog. It stood taller than any demons or spirits that she had seen. Then, it rose up even higher, pulling up onto it's giant, crooked legs. The shadow stretched taller and taller as it righted itself from up out of the ground. The floor rumbled again as the creature started walking. It seemed to move in slow motion, swinging it's lumbering limbs through the thick air.

  Harris stayed still. Everyone and everything seemed to know to leave before this thing arose. Harris stood alone and vulnerable. She had no idea what she was facing, in this land of unknown. She started backing up. It must have sensed her steps, as it stopped when she moved and started in her direction. It was still a distance away, so Harris considered outrunning it.

  Harris turned to run, but there was nowhere to hide. It was an endless vastness of fog and darkness. A muffled sound perked up her ears. She looked up to the sky to listen, but couldn't make it out. Harris closed her eyes to try and focus on the sound.

  A man's voice barely made it through the soupy air. "Veni e-" Harris couldn't make it out.

  Petr. It was Petr. He was calling her. She was too far. She ran toward the shadowy giant, stopping again to listen.

  "Veni et vive. Veni et vive. VENI ET VIVE," Petr shouted.

  Harris sucked in a breath, gasping. Her eyes popped open. She sat up from the ground, beside the Devil's column which was standing upright again. Petr knelt on the ground next to Harris, but outside the circle. He was holding the book and sweating.

  "Come. Come on, now," Petr said hurriedly, reaching his hand out to help Harris stand up and away. He pulled her quickly. The columns shook and the ground rumbled as Harris's feet stepped on the ground, away from the circle. The columns rattled then settled down.

  "Petr, you almost look surprised to see me," Harris laughed nervously.

  Petr looked at her earnestly. "I am."

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The moving truck backed out of the driveway. Harris watched from her window until the truck was out of sight. She flopped down on her couch and looked around the new apartment. She felt refreshed, moving away from her home town and leaving behind a life that almost devoured her soul. Her heart pained for everyone she had lost, but she was strangely optimistic of her new start.

  It had been difficult adjusting to this lonely life. There was no one left for her to reach out to. Grace was long gone, a friendship too far lost to be rekindled. Pearl had kept in touch, and became Harris's only real connection. Even Petr reached out once in a while from a phone at the corner store, a couple of blocks away from his house. But they were really all she had, all that she belonged to, the only people she had ties to anymore.

  Harris had spent the last few months on edge, waiting for a dream or haunting to happen. Nothing ever happened. Not a shadow, a demon, a friendly ghost visit in her dream, nothing. Finally, she found herself letting go. She let go of the fear and paranoia. Petr was successful. He had detached her soul from her body long enough to deter her normal hitchhikers from sticking around, waiting for a ride. Her life was quiet and safe, now.

  The sun set, but she wasn't afraid, for once. She sat on her couch, laptop on her lap with a client's project open. The TV was playing some reality show competition for amateur singers, and a cup of tea was steaming on the coffee table nearby. She was relaxed, not glancing over her shoulder for shadows or worried a ghost would wander into her kitchen.

  Harris worked on her project while a blonde girl sang her heart out, when her phone rang. That's weird, it's late, and I have no friends, she thought to herself.

  "Harris! Pearl. How are you? Are you moved into your new place?" Pearl's voice flowed cheerfully from the phone.

  "Pearl!" Harris said with pleasant surprise. "So nice to hear from you! Yeah, I'm just about moved in. It has been quiet, but I’m adjusting. How is everything? How is Petr?"

  "Quiet can be good. Petr is well. I have actually planned a trip to Prague for next year. Good to know your roots, I've heard." Pearl answered.

  "Wonderful! Good for you. It was a beautiful city. Maybe one day I will go back. I'm just trying to adjust to this new life, for now, put my past behind me, you know?" Harris said.

  Pearl sighed. "You know Harris, you don't have to be alone. You know you can let people in again, right? They are safe, now. You are safe now. I'm not even saying to date, just make a friend. Talk to a stranger."

  Harris laughed. "I talk to strangers all the time. How else would I get my pizza delivered? Oh wait, there's an app. Well, I still call for Chinese food."

  "I'm serious. It would be good for you to have a friend, even a casual friend, who is a little more local to you."

  Harris didn't want to think about making friends or getting close to people. She felt like she had no place in her heart for anyone else. And she was still scared. "I just worry. You can't know for sure that nothing will ever happen again. Pearl, I can't go through that again."

  "I do understand. I just worry. Your only friends are a crazy Wiccan hiding up in the woods and an old Czech Sorcerer who can't even afford a telephone. I just think you should expand your horizons a teensy bit. But, it is your choice," Pearl answered.

  "I will briefly consider it," Harris said.

  "Thank you. I have to run, but reach out sometime. Check in. I'll be up here." Pearl and Harris said their goodbyes and hung up.

  Harris did consider Pearl's suggestion. Maybe she could do a trial run. If she met one person, and didn't get too close, she could make sure no weird stuff was happening from the spirit world, and end it the second it did. Ugh, this is too much pressure, better off alone, Harris thought. She decided to wrap it up and call it a night. Tomorrow she'd find a new coffee house to call her office.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The Perky Turk. The name was what drew her in. A witty coffee house name almost always meant a funky, creative interior. Harris was thrilled to see it was true, entering The Perky Turk coffee house. Beautiful artwork hung on textured, wallpapered walls. Small round tables with cushioned chairs meant sipping alone and working was totally acceptable and probably common here. What really sold her, were the couches. Big, overstuffed, leather couches sat in a nook near the front of the store, near the back, and in a little cut-out on the way to the bathrooms.

  It was busy enough that there was a short line for coffee and moderate background noise, but not so busy that
she couldn't find a table or get a refill without waiting an eternity. The final tests were the coffee price and taste. She ordered her small coffee, skim milk, two sugars. A small case had a variety of pastries and even parfaits. She stuck with her coffee.

  "One dollar," the man at the counter said.

  "Excuse me?" Harris thought she misheard, but she glanced at the register and saw one dollar on the display.

  "A dollar. For your coffee. Anything else, Miss?" the man asked.

  That's it, she thought. She was sold. She hadn't paid a dollar for coffee in a coffee shop in her whole life, maybe at a gas station convenience store, but never in an actual coffee establishment. She handed the dollar to the cashier and fished for change in her wallet. She dropped it all into the tip jar.

  She set herself up at a table in the center. She always tried for a window, but they were all taken. She opened her laptop and finished with the final test. She sipped her cheaper-than-water coffee. Decent. Actually pretty good. Harris smiled knowing that she had found her new workspace. Good old Perky Turk. She chuckled, scanning the room, picking out all of the eccentricities.

  "Excuse me, Harris?" A man's voice came from above her.

  Before she even looked up, she felt a tightness grip at her chest. Who would she know here? How can she run into someone who knows her this far from home? Is it an old friend? Someone who knew about her past? Someone who is going to ask about her family? She realized she had forgotten to breath.

  "Excuse me. Sorry, but you dropped this."

  Her license appeared in front of her computer screen. She followed the arm holding her license up to a stranger that she had never seen before. She sighed in relief. He had only found her license. Thank God.

  "I didn't mean to creep you out. I just saw you drop it as you were digging for change or something." He said, as Harris slowly took her ID from his hand. "Not from around here, huh?"

  "I thought you weren't trying to creep me out," Harris said smirking.

  "Oh, heh, yeah. I'm sorry. I just, saw your license, I didn't mean to, uh, sorry," he replied, tugging the hem of his shirt nervously.

  "It's cool." Harris chuckled. "Thank you."

  "I'm Ant. Anthony." He said.

  "Hi Ant Anthony. Nice to meet you," Harris replied, still smirking.

  "Are you a writer?" Ant asked, pointing to the laptop.

  Is this really happening? Is this guy going to flirt with her? She wasn't ready for anything like that right now, Harris thought. Maybe this could become a casual associate type of thing. Maybe this was her opportunity. Pearl insisted that was what Harris needed.

  "I'm not dating, like anyone. Maybe ever." She blurted out. Smooth, she thought, wanting to punch herself in the mouth.

  "Oh. Okay. I see. Have a-" Ant started, but Harris cut him off.

  "But if you want to sit and drink your coffee with me anyway, that would be cool," she said, trying to resurrect this chance she just killed.

  Ant scanned the coffee shop, then looked back at Harris. "Uh. Yeah, okay. Yeah why not?"

  He sat in the chair across from Harris and she closed her laptop. He sat stiffly and looked around the coffee shop, clearly feeling awkward.

  "I'm a graphic designer," Harris said, pointing to her laptop. "I'm sorry. This is weird, right? I just don't have any friends. I'm new in town and you are the first person that I even know the name of."

  "Oh. That's okay. I get it. It's not weird. I can be your friend. Although, for the record, you are really cute." He watched Harris blush. "So, graphic design. What is that like?" Ant asked.

  "It's like, going to school to perfect a talent, then having a bunch of people who don't know anything about graphic design tell me how to do my job and tear my work apart until I defile it to their specifications. Then I get paid. So, yeah, pretty great," Harris said.

  Ant laughed. "Well that does sound like a pretty sweet gig. I'm a radio DJ. I know, hold the applause."

  "There's nothing wrong with that. Pretty cool actually. What station?" Harris asked.

  "Yeah, it's a good gig. I'm on 102.9, KDAX the AX," Ant used his radio host voice.

  "Woah. Am I talking to a celebrity?" Harris said, half joking, half genuinely curious.

  "No. Not even close. I'm on the night shift. I basically just play music all night and get to introduce new bands once or twice a week. It's a living."

  "How does one get in to a job like that?"

  Ant rubbed the back of his neck. "Years of school and an internship. You know, working for free like a sucker to end up at the bottom of the totem pole anyway."

  "Careers are weird," Harris said chuckling.

  "So, can I ask why you aren't dating anyone? I mean, I'm totally cool with it. You just seem so, cool and normal," Ant pried.

  Harris rehearsed her answer in her head. She wasn't sure how much information she wanted to give out. It didn't really matter. She wasn't trying to get into anything serious. If he got scared off it was just as well. "My fiance was murdered. I'm just not ready for anything."

  "Oh damn. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay. Well, you know, not okay, but...it's fine," Harris answered. She shrugged and smiled weakly.

  Ant didn't seem put off, just sympathetic. He didn't run. He even thought she seemed 'normal'. Harris was glad.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  "Aren't you proud? I even gave him my number," Harris said into the phone.

  "That is amazing. I'm proud of you. That's a big step. Is he cute?" Pearl was on the other end.

  "It's not like that. I already told him I'm not ready to date. I just need friends. He was cool about it. I just can't stop thinking about Dylan. You know, if I focused on it, maybe I could visit Dylan in my dream," said Harris.

  "Harris, listen to me very closely. Do not do that. Do not open yourself up again. I mean it. Sure, maybe you could reach Dylan. Or maybe you could draw attention to yourself and attract other supernatural beings," Pearl warned in a stern voice.

  "Maybe both," Harris said.

  "Harris!" Pearl scolded.

  "Okay. I know, I know. I just miss him. I didn't even say goodbye." Harris felt her throat tighten, fighting back the urge to cry.

  "Listen, make your new friends, remember Dylan, but move on and be normal. No crossing intentionally. If you stay put you will stay safe."

  Harris laid on her bed after talking to Pearl. It was late, but she couldn't settle her mind. Ant and Dylan weighed heavy in her thoughts. Ant was so nice and this was the first step to living a normal life. She still feared that befriending him could kill him. Everything had been quiet ever since Prague, but could she risk it? Or, she thought instead of risking harm to Ant, she could reach out to Dylan and see him again. If she did, she knew she could never chance getting close to anyone ever again.

  Finally, Harris felt the pull of sleep calling her. Her lids rested with her mind and she drifted off.

  * * *

  Fog rolled across the ground. Oh God, she thought. She must have traveled to The Middle. No, she couldn't have. This was only a dream. Her surroundings started to fill in. It was a street in Prague 1, the beautiful heart of the city. Exquisite, bustling, and inspiring, this section of Prague is where they came through when they had flown in. Harris remembered how Dylan had said he wanted to return when everything was better, when they were safe from the demons. This is where they would have visited.

  "You look beautiful." That voice. It couldn't be. This was a dream. "You shouldn't be here."

  Dylan.

  "I'm so sorry," Harris cried and ran to embrace him. He squeezed her tightly. "I miss you so much it hurts. It's my fault. I should have never come back. I thought they couldn't get to you."

  "Harris. It's not your fault. It never was. Even when you stayed away, I couldn't. Remember? But, why did you come here? It's dangerous. You were safe after the ritual. Don't risk it. Please," Dylan said, staring into Harris's eyes so lovingly.

  Harris could feel sorrow weigh down every cell of her b
ody. If only she could stay. "I didn't do it on purpose. I was just thinking about you before I went to bed. I guess my soul just had to see you. I want to stay with you."

  "I'm sorry, babe. You can't. It doesn't work that way. I will always love you. I always did and that will never change. Go live your life. We will meet again. I promise."

  Harris felt herself being pulled away. She held onto Dylan, but he was pulled away too, his soul blurring as he backed away.

  * * *

  Tears streamed from her eyes as she sobbed into her pillow. It only made it harder for her, seeing him again. Why did her soul go to him?

  A rattle came from the kitchen.

  "Oh no," Harris whispered aloud. Her spirit had attracted something on her trip. She had started the hauntings all over again. She pulled her blanket up to her face. No, please, she thought.

  Something rattled again, this time ending in a crash and the sound of broken glass. Harris began to cry from fear. She couldn't face the ghosts again. She certainly couldn't face the demons. She thought about jumping from the window. If she lived or died, either way she would be away from whatever was waiting for her out there. Or would her soul be stuck in The Middle, chased by those soul devouring demons and that giant creature? There was another sound from the kitchen.

  Fighting every muscle in her body, she forced herself out of bed. Harris took slow, silent steps toward the kitchen. She had to face whatever it was and move on with this. Harris said a silent prayer that she would end up wherever Dylan was if this thing killed her. She entered the kitchen and flipped the light switch.

  The light actually came on, much to her surprise. A glass was shattered on the floor, tiny shards littered the tile. Nothing else was there. Maybe she had missed it, she considered. A rustling noise came from the counter, near the fridge. She carefully approached the counter, keeping a considerable distance still. A tiny field mouse darted from behind the toaster, across the counter, knocking over the pepper shaker, and scurried down behind the refrigerator.