Creatures of Want and Ruin

by Molly Tanzer

  “He is a coward,” said Fin gently, “and he’s not worth another minute of your time. I’m disappointed in him, too, but we have more important things to do than worrying about some minor nature poet backing down from a fight.”

  Fin was right. Ellie nodded at her new friend, who also looked extremely unhappy—unhappy with an undercurrent of real annoyance in her expression that made Ellie aware of just how keenly Fin understood the stakes.

  Ellie grabbed her mother’s jar of beach plum jelly off the counter; the dust atop it still framed her lone fingerprint from when she’d grabbed it the night before.

  “I’m taking this with me,” she said.

  “You should,” agreed Fin. “He never deserved it. He never deserved you.”

  “Let’s not go crazy,” said Ellie. She didn’t bother to shut the door behind them. “Deserve had nothing to do with that.”

  “No?”

  “No, just desire and convenience. But I appreciate you saying what you did.”

  It seemed strange that they giggled their way to her skiff, but the way Ellie figured it, they might as well laugh while they still could.

  It was when they reached the little dimple of shoreline where Ellie moored that Fin said, “So what’s our plan? I mean, I know we still need to talk everything over with everyone, but are we going to fight these diabolists, or . . . ?”

  Ellie sighed. “Probably.”

  “Can we make a stop, then? Before we head that way?”

  “Where did you want to go?”

  “My house.” Fin didn’t sound all that excited by this, really. “I want to get my bow and arrows.”

  Ellie had a lot of feelings about the idea of going after Hunter and his acolytes like Robin Hood hunting down the Sheriff of Nottingham, but Fin had an air of determination about her that she didn’t want to crush.

  “It’s so early,” said Fin as Ellie helped her into the boat, “we won’t even see them; they won’t be up. I can sneak in the back; I have a key . . .”

  “Sure,” said Ellie, as she hopped in after. She was feeling even more tired, but in a wakeful, anxious way. “I just wish I knew what you think you’ll be shooting at.”

  “Don’t we?”

  Ellie shook her head. “Not for sure. Talking to Jones, he thinks we don’t have enough reason to go after Hunter, but he’s a cop, and—”

  “Wait, Officer Jones?”

  “You know him?”

  “He’s the one who talked to me after the incident with the liquor,” said Fin. “He was very kind to me. I appreciated his candor, even if he did laugh in my face.”

  “That’s definitely Jones,” said Ellie. “What was he laughing about?”

  “I pretended not to know from whence the booze had come, but as it turned out, Jimmy and Bobbie had already squealed.”

  Ellie was unimpressed to hear she’d been betrayed by Jimmy, but also unsurprised. “I’m sure he thought that was a riot.”

  “Oh yes.”

  They zipped along toward Fin’s place in the morning sunshine, the breeze cool on their faces but promising more of August’s oppressive heat. Ellie watched Fin as she sat in the bow, her blonde curls bouncing in the wind. She turned around and smiled, and it was the most genuine thing Ellie had ever seen. Fin was not quite a Hollywood beauty, but in that moment she could have broken America’s heart on the silver screen. Or at the very least sold them Lysol or hot dogs.

  Fin had really opened up to Ellie the day before . . . and because of her bravery, even in the face of Ellie’s scorn, they now had some small idea of what they were doing. Or what they were up against, at least. Ellie figured it was time for her to do the same.

  “Fin.” Ellie took a deep breath, and for the first time, spoke aloud her fears. “I think my father was the one who killed my brother. I don’t have a lot of evidence—he was disguised—but after he did what he did . . . when he backed away from Lester’s body . . . he moved in a certain way that was very familiar to me.”

  “Because of his injury,” said Fin, surprising Ellie before she remembered Fin had stopped by her house. “Oh my goodness. Ellie, that’s— What do I even say?”

  “I don’t know what to say, either, or how to feel, or what to do. I called Rocky a coward earlier, but I’m just as bad. My friend SJ, she shot the man who killed Lester. I’m afraid if I go home, Pop’ll have some big wound in his shoulder, and I won’t be able to doubt myself anymore—I’ll know.”

  “But at the same time, he might have information we could use.”

  “I thought of that too, but I’m afraid he’ll lie to us, if we ask. He’s been loyal to Hunter this whole time; there’s no way we can make him tell the truth.”

  Fin got a strange look on her face as Ellie said this.

  “Maybe we could make him tell the truth,” she said slowly.

  Ellie laughed, but it was a dry, hollow sort of sound. “I’ve never been able to make my old man do anything.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  Ellie peered at her friend, who was once again seized with that powerful, enthusiastic energy. Ellie wondered what it would have been like to march alongside her for suffrage. She had probably been a sight to be seen.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  Fin blushed, then blurted out, “Why not fight fire with fire? What if we summoned a demon?”

  It was obvious Fin was serious, but this was even crazier than her idea of using a bow and arrow to fight these face-changing, fire-summoning demon-worshippers. Sometimes it was the duty of a friend to listen and support, but this wasn’t one of those times. She had to put a stop to this idle fancy.

  “Fin, that’s absurd.”

  “It might sound that way, but I’m serious. What if we summoned a demon and used it to help us? Miss Depth in The Demon in the Deep summons one to see the truth of the world, and—”

  “The Demon in the Deep is a children’s book.”

  “But Rocky’s poetry was real . . . or at least, it was based on real experiences. Real demonic experiences.”

  “Fin . . .”

  “How could it hurt to try?” Fin reached into Ellie’s bag. “Look, we even have the beach plum jelly! And in my copy of The Demon in the Deep . . . Please don’t look at me like that, Ellie. Listen—in my copy, the author, she inscribed it to me personally when I met her, and the inscription, it said that everything in the book was true, just like in Rocky’s.”

  Ellie pulled a face at the mention of Rocky. “That doesn’t mean anything, Fin. Lots of books for children have little fake magic spells. Do you think we should also try to buy some silver shoes for everyone and say ‘There’s no place like home’ in the hopes that we all get transported to Oz?”

  She’d gone too far, and she saw it in Fin’s wounded expression. Remembering all Fin had told her of her life, she repented immediately.

  “I’m sorry,” said Ellie. “I’m frightened of what’s to come, so I want us to keep our feet on the ground . . . and I just really don’t think it’s feasible for us to summon a demon.”

  “Hunter did.”

  That was true. Ellie had to concede that point, at least.

  “All right. So let’s say it’s possible,” Ellie said. “What would happen to you—to us? Rocky said there was always a cost. What will be the cost for you? Didn’t you say that this Miss Depth doesn’t do so well at the end of your book?”

  “No . . . but none of us are going to be doing well if Hunter succeeds. I think it’s worth a shot. What if it works? Think about what we could find out.” She was begging Ellie with her eyes. “You wouldn’t accuse your father, even just to me, if you didn’t have good reason to think it was him. I also know if you thought he’d talk to you about it, you would have gone to him by now. He’s the best lead we’ve got unless you just want to go to Hunter’s house, break down the door, and . . .”

  “It just seems like a huge waste of time,” said Ellie, but at Fin’s expression, she sighed. “Then again, how much time
could it really take?”

  “It won’t take long to grab my gear and my copy of the book,” said Fin eagerly. “We can skedaddle right after.”

  They were in sight of Fin’s house. Fin climbed awkwardly out of the boat as Ellie tied up—she really was jazzed. “Come on,” said Fin as Ellie lingered over the knot. Time was indeed of the essence, but Ellie had never been inside a house this nice before. While she was curious about how these people lived, she was uneasy, too. She felt out of place here—she always did, even when she was selling rich folks the liquor they wanted. After all, it’s not like any of them had ever invited her in for a drink.

  With a flush, Ellie realized that Fin had been the first to do that. And look how that had gone.

  Ellie and Fin crossed the lawn, their footprints revealing the dark green of the grass beneath the silver of the dew and spiderwebs. It was so peaceful here on Ocean Avenue, where the lawns were so manicured, and the boats had no peeling paint. This time of day everyone was still inside, either asleep or just eating their breakfasts. The sounds of working people had not yet intruded—only the birds and insects and the whispering of leaves and the lap of water against wood and stone.

  And yet, even so, there at the edge of Fin’s lawn Ellie saw the telltale black smear of those foul mushrooms. In fact, as she looked closer, they were sprouting everywhere, at the base of the rosebushes near the house, and at the edges of the gazebo where she and Fin had once drunk a glass of iced tea together. Beautiful this place might be, but money and class would not save it. It would be destroyed too, if they failed.

  2

  The house was quiet as Fin collected her archery gear from the closet with all the athletic equipment and raided the larder for a bite to eat. One of the servants bustled in to start breakfast for the household as they were tearing in to some bread and butter, which made Ellie stiffen up. Fin was on good terms with them all, however, and Ellie visibly relaxed when Lucy didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about Fin being there making coffee.

  “Will you be eating with everyone, Mrs. Coulthead?” she asked as she gathered plates and cups from the cabinet.

  “No, thank you,” Fin said as she handed Lucy a cup of coffee with cream, just as she knew the older woman liked it.

  “Sugar, please,” said Ellie as Fin poured a second, and then added a surprising amount on top of what Fin had already stirred in.

  “Enjoy it,” said Fin, after taking a sip of her own. “I’m going to go get a few things from my bedroom.”

  It wasn’t until after Fin surprised Jimmy out of a deep sleep that she realized she had forgotten he’d be there, in their bedroom. Recalling where she’d spent much of the previous night, she blushed.

  “Kid?” he said. “Is that you?”

  “I’m sorry if I worried you. I was out and it got late so I just stayed where I was.”

  “Okay,” he said blearily. “We were just surprised when you didn’t bring the car back.”

  Jimmy mentioning the car ameliorated a few of Fin’s feelings of guilt, as did his report that they were surprised, not worried. It was odd, but even after just one night away from it, their bedroom didn’t feel like hers anymore.

  Ellie was right; she needed to leave. This situation was not working out for any of them. She was done, and the realization made her feel happier than she had in a long time.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” she said. “I’ll get the car back when I can, but I have a busy day ahead. I’m only here for a moment.”

  “Wait, no . . . Don’t go.”

  Fin paused with her hand on the door of the closet. “I have to; I’m sorry.” Without further discussion, she opened the closet, selected a bag, and then put her sturdy brogues in there, along with some fresh undergarments and her favorite sporty dress.

  Jimmy sat up in bed, watching her. “This is important, Fin.”

  Fin reemerged and went for her bookshelf to grab The Demon in the Deep. “What is?”

  Jimmy swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his dressing gown. “Well . . . last night, we decided we’re moving, and—”

  “We?” asked Fin wryly.

  “All of us. It’s not our fault you weren’t here to discuss it,” said Jimmy.

  Fin suspected that her absence the previous evening actually had had quite a bit to do with the timing of this conversation, but she did not choose to mention this. “What have you all decided?” she asked.

  “We’ll head to Martha’s Vineyard for the rest of the summer, and then go on to Lisbon. Doesn’t that sound fun? Imagine it, kid—Spain, in the fall!”

  “Lisbon is in Portugal,” said Fin.

  Jimmy’s expression curdled. “Well, wherever it is, we’re heading there. You could at least pretend to be excited.”

  Fin had been casting about the room for a few extra odds and ends she knew she’d want—candles, matches—but she paused at this, and looked up at her husband.

  “Why?” she asked, genuinely curious.

  “Why? Why what?”

  “Why should I pretend to be excited? I mean, I am for you—if you are excited about Portugal, hard cheese if you had your heart set on Spain—but I’m not moving. I’m staying here.”

  “What?”

  Fin took a step back. “Shh,” she said. “People are sleeping!”

  “Don’t shush me,” said Jimmy, not lowering his voice at all. He was really upset, which surprised Fin. She hadn’t imagined a separation would bother him all that much. “You want me to be quiet when you tell me you’re not coming with me? What do you want, a divorce?”

  The word shocked Fin, even if she’d been contemplating the idea. “I . . . I suppose I do.”

  “Christ, Fin!” Jimmy started to pace angrily, like a tiger in a cage. “Really? After all this time?”

  “Jimmy, you suggested I see a psychologist because I wasn’t fun anymore.” A calm had come over her, in the face of Jimmy’s anger. “You’re not happy with me, nor I with you.”

  “How could I be happy with you? I barely even see you! You never wanted to do anything here. What was I supposed to do, stay home with you all the time?”

  That was what tipped Fin over into anger. “No, I didn’t want to go out with you. It was mortifying to have everyone ask me if I was your cousin, or your sister!”

  Jimmy blushed now, looking absolutely appalled. “That’s not my fault!”

  “Maybe not, but you certainly never made an effort to help fix the situation. You left it to me to insist you and I were married. Want to imagine how that felt for me?”

  Jimmy scoffed at her. “When did you start caring what other people think, huh?”

  “It’s not that I cared what they thought. It’s that I cared about how I was being treated.”

  There was a knock at the door, and then it opened without further warning. Bobbie was there, in her dressing gown, and behind her was Edgar, and behind him, Duke and Lily. They must have been even louder than Fin had thought.

  “Everything okay, Jimmy?” asked Duke.

  “Where was she all night?” asked Bobbie, not even looking at Fin.

  “Still not speaking to me?” said Fin. Bobbie ignored this; apparently, the answer was yes.

  “She didn’t say where she was,” answered Jimmy.

  “She was with me,” said Ellie.

  Fin felt a rush of gratitude to her friend for appearing at that moment, especially as the reactions from the rest were so amusing.

  “We were out on the bay enjoying the evening,” Ellie continued, when no one spoke, “and as we were closer to my house than hers when we finished up, she stayed over.”

  “And who are you?” asked Jimmy.

  Ellie stared at him, brow furrowed. “We’ve met,” she said. “Though it’s reassuring to know you couldn’t identify me in a lineup.”

  “Oh! You’re the one who sold us that bad booze!”

  Now Ellie looked as pissed off as anyone else. “It wasn’t bad, it was just . . .
unusual.”

  “Unusual,” said Bobbie, who apparently had no problem speaking to anyone, unless it was Fin. “It made us notorious.”

  “Well, no. Serving it at a party is what made you notorious,” said Ellie.

  Only Fin and Edgar laughed, but that was enough to infuriate Bobbie.

  “You think it’s funny!” she snapped, shooting Edgar a look that sobered him up quickly. “I knew it. I told Jimmy you weren’t sorry for ruining our lives here, and here you are laughing about it.”

  “Oh no! Not laughing!” Fin surprised herself by back-talking, but then again, she no longer had any reason to be afraid of what might happen if she spoke out. “That’s bad—not like, say, deciding to relocate without asking everyone involved their opinion.”

  “Oh, come off it, Fin. We would have talked to you if you’d been around, but you aren’t. Ever.”

  Astonished, Fin stared at her friend—former friend, she supposed, finally comfortable considering her such. Hadn’t she been around? Hadn’t she stayed home when they went out—hadn’t she sat with them as they talked? Hadn’t she been just outside, shooting arrows at targets, while they sat inside coming up with these plans?

  “I’ve been here,” she said. “Apart from yesterday and last night, I’ve been here more than any of you!”

  “You’re only making my point for me,” said Bobbie, with a toss of her hair. “You hardly do anything with us, and when we’re here, you’re always elsewhere . . . if not physically, then mentally.”

  “And looking about as miserable as a wet cat,” added Lily. Edgar laughed again.

  “It’s true,” said Jimmy. “I’ve never seen you unhappier than you’ve been on Long Island. I know you don’t want to, but I think moving away from here, starting fresh . . . It could really be good. For all of us.”

  Fin could see in everyone’s eyes that they were all in agreement. She honestly didn’t know where to start when it came to refuting this. Their version of their collective history was unnerving because it was so inaccurate to her own experience, but they were all so certain of it. It was disorienting that it was her memory alone that diverged from their narrative.