Just South of Home

by Karen Strong

  Anger flared through me. I pushed Jasper out of the way and shoved my finger hard into Janie’s chest. “You should be scared. Did you see those shadows? The way they fell from that dead tree? The way those haints hissed at us? If that little boy is hanging around there, you can best believe he doesn’t need our help.”

  Janie twisted her mouth into a frown but stayed silent. She knew I was right.

  “That place is off-limits. Now we know why. We’re staying away from it. You’re only here for twelve more days. If you wanna be haunted by a haint, then that’s your business. Go by yourself. Leave me and Ellis out of it.”

  She scowled at me. “Fine. Keep your little ghost-country town. See if I care,” she taunted. Then she marched out of the field.

  I turned to Jasper. “I need you to keep this between us. Don’t tell Mrs. Whitney what happened.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But she may be able to help you.”

  “If taking the cameo back fixes everything, then we don’t need anyone’s help.”

  Mrs. Whitney had told us not to mess with the spirit world, but we had anyway. Lesson learned. I wouldn’t be messing with them ever again.

  “Don’t tell anyone else, either,” I added. “We don’t need our parents finding out about this.”

  • • •

  As soon as we got back home, I went into the backyard and took Mama’s garden hose to wash off the message from my bedroom window. As the muddy letters dripped down the glass pane, so too did my questions and doubt; my body sighed in relief.

  I would never go to Creek Church again.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Thicker than Water

  Over the next three days, Janie gave me the silent treatment. Every time I tried to start a conversation, she ignored me and hid her face behind one of Aunt Gina’s celebrity magazines or played on her phone. No longer squeamish or scared of the bearded dragon, Janie hung out in Ellis’s room and held Walter like a baby. Despite my brother’s pleas to feed Walter crickets, Janie insisted on only giving him kale and carrots.

  I hadn’t confronted my cousin about taking the silver hand from Mrs. Whitney’s gift shop. She never brought it out of her backpack. The only thing she would take out of her so-called purse was nail polish for her daily pedicure.

  I tried to return to my summer routine and read my Cassini book, but Saturn’s moons had lost their appeal. I didn’t care that Mimas was one of the most battered moons in our solar system or that Titan had formed rivers and lakes from a millennia of methane rain. No matter how hard I tried to go into my astronomy bubble, I found myself wondering about the strange boy.

  I continued to share breakfast with Mama and drink coffee with Daddy. I didn’t tell them about Creek Church, and the guilt still lay heavy on my conscience. But what could I do? They wouldn’t believe me if I told them I had seen haints float down from a dead tree.

  Ellis kept to his model car project, and Janie and Mrs. Taylor established a closer bond, watching housewives backstab each other on reality TV.

  Several times I went into Mama’s office and checked my e-mail. Still nothing from Jovita. One day I typed a long message telling her everything. I told her about Janie and her sticky fingers and how she hated our small town. I told her about Creek Church and how haints were trapped in a forgotten place from Warrenville’s history. I shared my theories about the strange boy and that maybe he wasn’t a boy at all.

  I read through the e-mail and hovered over the send button. Then I remembered how Jovita had gone to Yvonne’s party without me. How she had ignored me all summer. She never responded to my other e-mails, so she probably wouldn’t read this one either. Wiping a tear from my eye, I slowly deleted each word until there was nothing left but an empty screen.

  That night I went to sleep and dreamed of haints with silver eyes watching over me.

  • • •

  On Saturday we piled into Daddy’s SUV to go to the Alton Mall. In the backseat, I squished myself near the window and listened to Ellis and Janie discuss Walter’s diet.

  “I think we should make Walter a vegetarian,” Janie said.

  “Crickets are insects not animals,” Ellis said.

  “But crickets are nasty,” Janie complained.

  “Cockroaches are actually better,” Ellis said.

  Janie scrunched up her face. “Even more disgusting.”

  When we got inside the mall, Daddy took Ellis to the video game store, and Mama wanted to shop for a blouse at her favorite boutique. I asked to tag along, even if it meant Mama would buy me another training bra, but she had other plans.

  “Sarah, take Janie to the makeup store or that accessory place. They may have her nail polish.”

  Janie frowned. “I can find it by myself.”

  Mama shook her head as if she was rejecting a plea bargain at the Fairfield County courthouse. This was non-negotiable.

  “Sarah will go with you.” Mama looked at her watch. “I’ll meet you ladies in the food court in about an hour.”

  After Mama left us to fend for ourselves, we walked in silence. Creek Church was the only bond we had in common. And that wasn’t anything I wished to share with anyone.

  The mall wasn’t crowded because it was summer and the university students were gone, but there was still a buzz. Little kids screamed as they rode on a small carousel in the play area. Older kids sat on the benches, people watching and gossiping. The last time I had gone to the Alton Mall was with Jovita. Mama had dropped us off, and we had spent our allowance at Candy Unlimited and shared a milkshake in the food court. Jovita had told me about her secret crush on Joseph Conway. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “This mall is a joke,” Janie said.

  “Maybe before you leave we can go to Atlanta,” I said. “They have some fun stores.”

  Janie sucked her teeth and tossed her braids over her shoulder. “Mom is coming back for me next weekend. We won’t have time.”

  I knew Aunt Gina called Janie every night. No doubt my cousin was still complaining about how much she hated staying with us. But Janie never talked to anyone else, and I wondered if she even had a best friend. It didn’t seem like it. Maybe that was another thing we had in common.

  “Did Aunt Gina finish her screen tests yet?”

  “She has a big audition on Monday,” Janie said. “It’s only a matter of time before she’s a movie star, and we’ll be living in a mansion in Hollywood.”

  “You’ll be a celebrity daughter like you always wanted,” I added. “But what about your friends in Chicago? Won’t you miss them?”

  Janie fiddled with her braids. “Not really.”

  We walked again in silence. I didn’t feel like trying to get closer to Janie, even though as a cousin I should have. I wasn’t sure what to talk to her about. This would probably be our only time to spark another connection with each other. When she came back next summer, a whole year would be between us. A wider gap to cross.

  I stopped in front of the Accessory Alice store. “This is the store Mama was talking about.”

  Janie strolled in, but I came to a halt at the entrance. Jovita was standing by a display case of earrings. She still looked the same. Deep, dark skin like Mama. Long straight hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.

  Jovita was with Yvonne and two other girls. Ones who loved to torture me at school. The three were known as the Jones Girls because they were related in the way families in Alton and Warrenville tended to be. They shared the same light skin and long brown hair. Except Yvonne and Lola were tall and skinny like skeletons, and Sheree was curvy and wore a real bra. They had on matching skirts and tops, which made them look like evil triplets.

  When Jovita finally saw me, a look of shame spread across her face. She had been caught in Accessory Alice with my bullies.

  “Hi, Sarah,” she said.

  “When did you get back into town?” I asked.

  “Late last night,” she said slowly. “I was too tired to call you.”

 
Lola and Sheree sneered as they judged me from head to toe. I’m sure they didn’t approve of my Hidden Figures T-shirt, wrinkled shorts, and faded sneakers. Yvonne gave me a she-wolf grin. She was captain of Team Terror. She taunted me in homeroom. She made fun of the way I talked—too much like a white girl. She picked at the way I dressed—too much like a country boy. Mama said Yvonne only did this because she was jealous, but I knew better. Sometimes girls were mean because they wanted to be.

  Janie came up beside me and made her rotten-egg face. Within seconds, she could tell these girls weren’t my friends.

  “We’re picking out earrings,” Yvonne said. “For Jovita’s birthday party.”

  “So you’re still having your party?” I asked.

  “I forgot to tell you,” she said. “I’ve been so busy.”

  “I don’t see how you could be busy in this cramped-up, boring place,” Janie said.

  “Who are you?” Sheree asked.

  “I’m Janie, and I don’t live here.”

  “Where you from, then?” Lola asked, annoyance lacing her voice.

  “Chicago,” Janie replied.

  Sheree rolled her eyes and popped her gum. “I’ve been to Chicago. It ain’t all that.”

  “You look like you’re in one of those girl gangs with those fuzzy prison braids,” Yvonne said. “Hope you don’t plan on robbing this store.” The other Jones Girls laughed, but Jovita stayed quiet.

  “There’s nothing in this place I want,” Janie said. “You simple country birds should thank me. You can keep all this cheap mess. It matches your tacky outfits.”

  Yvonne balled up her hands at her side, and moved toward my cousin, but Jovita quickly jumped between them.

  “No need for a scene in a public place. She’s already over there watching us.” Jovita pointed to an older white woman behind the cash register.

  “Y’all gonna buy something or not?” She narrowed her eyes at us. “No loitering.”

  Jovita cleared her throat. “I’m going to buy these earrings.” She showed the woman a pair of earrings in her hands.

  “Go ahead and bring them up to the counter,” the woman said with an ugly tone in her voice. “You need to make your purchase so you can move along. Don’t make me call security.”

  Jovita glanced at us. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Lola and Sheree followed her to the sales counter, but Yvonne lingered behind, a cruel smile plastered to her face.

  “You better hope I don’t see you around here again,” she warned Janie.

  Janie grabbed my arm. “Let’s go.”

  We turned and walked out of the store. My hands trembled, the embarrassment burning across my cheeks. Jovita hadn’t invited me to her thirteenth birthday party. Worst of all, she’d left me to become friends with those awful girls.

  We took the escalator down, and when we got off, I sat on an empty bench. Janie sat beside me. “Are you okay?”

  I blinked several times. Jovita had ended our friendship at the Alton Mall. I wanted to cry, but I was also surprised Janie had stood up for me. She didn’t have to do that. I knew she was still mad at me about Creek Church, but she came to my defense with the Jones Girls. Maybe this is what they mean when they say blood is thicker than water. Today I liked Janie more than any of my training bras.

  “Who cares about Jovita,” Janie said. “She has bad taste. In earrings and friends.”

  I laughed a little, and Janie smiled at me. Maybe the space between us wasn’t so big after all.

  “I can’t believe Jovita is hanging with the Jones Girls. I thought she was my best friend.”

  “Best friends don’t act like that,” Janie said.

  “Thanks for helping me out with Yvonne,” I said. “She hates me.”

  “She needs to hate herself for dressing like that in public. That country bird has no style whatsoever.” Janie stood up from the bench. “Where’s that other store? We got one in Chicago so I know they’ll have my stuff.”

  I took her to the makeup store, and Janie found her nail polish. She even talked me into getting a bottle. A bright summer red.

  When we met up with Mama at the food court, Janie and I shared chili cheese fries. Mama showed us her new blouse, and we all laughed at Ellis’s antics when he explained the plot of his newest video game. It felt good to laugh. Good to forget about Jovita and the Jones Girls. I didn’t have a best friend anymore, but at least I had my family.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Night Visitor

  Rain soaked Warrenville like a drowned rat, causing Missionary Creek to swell into a baby river. Beaverdam Trailer Park had some minor flooding, but Jasper let us know he was okay. He told Ellis the field behind his house looked like a lake. The lightning got so bad that we didn’t even go to church. Mrs. Greene called and asked why we weren’t sitting in the pews. Despite my grandma’s foretelling of Jesus cleansing the earth with rain, the weather forecast promised a clear sky for the Fourth of July fireworks.

  Over the next couple of days, the rain held steady, and Mama forced us to stay in the house. I was happy because it meant I could binge-watch the rest of the History of the Solar System episodes. Janie whined of boredom, but she entertained herself with pedicures and played video games with Ellis. Sometimes she stayed upstairs, reading magazines and playing on her phone. Even though she had stood up for me in front of Jovita and the Jones Girls, we hadn’t said much else to each other.

  I was having nightmares. Sometimes I woke up in a cold sweat, a scream at the back of my throat. Other times I dreamed of following the strange boy through the woods and getting lost in the mist. The dead oak tree with shadows slinking down from its branches was always there. I didn’t tell anyone about these disturbing dreams. I only wished they would go away.

  Tonight was no different. I was in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Like all the previous nights, I prayed for a few dreamless hours. The sheets were over Janie’s head as usual. Her steady breathing signaled she was asleep instead of faking it. I fiddled with my warm sheets and pushed them down with my feet.

  Our back porch fixture created a spotlight on the trees. The shadows of branches and leaves moved on my bedroom ceiling in a lazy dance. The wind had strengthened, and the leaves bristled in loud whooshes. Lightning pulsed outside my window. My eyelids began to droop, and I fluffed my pillow into a new shape to doze off when I heard the first tap on my window.

  I lay frozen, then quickly snuck a glance at my spaceship clock. It was after midnight.

  Another tap.

  Someone was throwing small pebbles at the glass. Someone was trying to get my attention.

  Two more taps.

  I sat up in bed and pulled the sheets off me. Teeth clenched, I placed my bare feet on the floor. After a deep breath, I counted to three and walked to the window.

  The trees in the backyard were now calm and still. I squinted into the darkness but couldn’t see anything. Maybe I was tired. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.

  Then another rock hit my window, and I jumped back in surprise. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

  It was then that I saw him. The Creek Church boy stood in a sliver of porch light without casting a shadow.

  He had on the same clothes. No shoes. I squinted as his mouth moved. He was trying to say something, but I couldn’t understand him—I was too afraid to focus on anything. He turned to the woods behind him. But just before he reached the edge to enter, he looked back at me. The boy’s eyes had changed, a silver glow. In the woods behind him, a sea of eyes shimmered in the dark.

  Then he was gone.

  My body was covered in cold sweat, and my hands trembled. I rushed to Janie’s bed and shook her awake. She mumbled in her sleep and pulled the covers over her head.

  “Janie.” I shook her again.

  “What do you want?”

  “The boy is outside,” I said.

  “What?” Janie rubbed her eyes. “Are you sleepwalking?”

  “That boy is here
.”

  Janie bolted up. “The one from Creek Church?”

  “Yes. He’s one of them, Janie. His eyes, they’re—”

  We raced back to the window, and I pointed to where I had seen him. There was no one there now. The trees swayed in the wind, a storm was brewing.

  “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” she said. “You’ve been saying weird things in your sleep.”

  “He woke me up,” I said. “He was throwing rocks at the window.”

  “I don’t like this,” she said.

  We both jumped when the doorbell rang. Janie’s eyes went wide. I slowly opened my bedroom door, and Daddy was in the hall with his robe and house shoes. Mama appeared in her nightgown.

  The doorbell kept ringing, as if someone desperately wanted to get inside the house.

  Ellis peeked out of his room. “Who’s ringing our doorbell like we owe them money?”

  “Go back in your room,” Mama told him.

  “Daddy, we shouldn’t open the door,” I said.

  “Someone may need our help,” Daddy replied softly.

  Janie, Ellis, and I followed my parents downstairs. Whoever was at the door was now knocking urgently.

  I grabbed Daddy’s hand. “Don’t open it.”

  He pulled the curtains back in the sidelight window. “It’s okay, Sarah. It’s just Mrs. Taylor.”

  Our next-door neighbor stood in front of us in her housecoat, bright pink against her dark skin. Mrs. Taylor’s gray hair was in rollers, her frail body wrapped in an old fringe shawl.

  “Is everything all right?” Daddy asked.

  “Somebody was in my backyard,” Mrs. Taylor said. “I couldn’t see much. Too many shadows. Has your boy been outside?”

  “Ellis?” Daddy looked confused.

  Ellis peered behind Mama. “I ain’t been outside.”

  Mrs. Taylor walked inside the foyer. “Someone turned on my motion light.”

  There was certainty in Mrs. Taylor’s eyes. She may have had cataracts, but she was right. She had seen something in her backyard, but it wasn’t Ellis. My whole body shivered, and Janie inched closer to me.