by Kelly Martin
It got hotter. Surely, finally, Hell was coming to take her away. She'd been in purgatory after all, it turned out, and now she was going to the main event. Strangely, now the box seemed safe, and she didn't want to leave it. It had to be better than wherever the heat was. She'd listened to her father's sermons and she knew nothing good awaited her down there.
The world fell away and she landed with a thud. What happened, she had no idea, but she knew it couldn't be good. She heard screaming too, but had no idea where it came from. It took several moments for her to realize it was her own screams she heard. Her voice was hoarse, deep, very unlady-like. Almost frightening.
But she couldn't make herself stop.
She didn't want to fall into the fiery parts of Hell. The darkness became a comfort she didn't want to lose to the unknown.
Muffled footsteps came toward her, and she screamed louder, mainly from fear. The demons were upon her. They were ready for her and now she'd see what was waiting for her.
A dull orange light greeted her along with the first whiff of air she'd had in what seemed like forever. But it wasn't fresh air. It reeked of smoke.
And the Devil himself had her.
****
Finally, blessedly, the other two people left, not without a stern warning from Shane to the other feller though. The other guy, Drake, swore that he wouldn't tell a soul about Lizzie, and she hoped it meant the same in the twenty-first century as it did in her time.
Cheyenne promised to bring her some clothes to change into since Lizzie's wedding dress was messed up and bloody. After the girl left, Lizzie had to wonder what in the world she'd bring her to put on. She didn't think she'd feel comfortable in short leggings sans dress. Then again, maybe it was time to smell the new century. She was moving to New York, after all. Shane promised.
"You okay?" he asked, kneeling down beside her. She could tell he was still miffed from his conversation with Drake and his sister. His wild hair was becoming even wilder and his nose had a slight flare he hadn't been able to control.
"I'll be alright. You?"
"Fine." He smiled. "But you gave me a scare. I've never seen anything like that."
"Oh, you mean with my ring? What happened? I saw the blood. Then I saw a bright light."
He sat back down next to her on the floor. No sense in worrying about all the nasty black blood now. They'd have to clean it up later. He'd rather it be on the floor than on his bed sheets. Then he'd definitely have to explain it to his mom — Shane didn't do laundry — and that wouldn't be fun. "You took the ring off and put it down. Then things just went crazy. You started having these spasms and convulsing. You coughed up this oozy black blood and your wrists," he glanced down at them, making her self-conscious. "They opened and started bleeding." He said the last part in a low voice.
Becoming uncomfortable, Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her wrists from him. "I saw a light. I think I was heading toward Heaven. I know you don't think…"
"Maybe you were," Shane said, surprising her.
"Thought you didn't believe in Heaven."
He raised a brow. "I didn't believe in zombies until yesterday either. I'm not saying there is or is not a God. I'm saying if there is such a thing as magic, then maybe there might be such a thing as God."
"That's a start." She grinned.
Shane hesitated and brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Why did you do it, Lizzie?" he asked. Finally, he'd gotten around to asking. It was a question she didn't want to answer.
"You know why. I guess you do, anyway. You know my story. You said there was a museum dedicated to me. You had to have known about Daniel."
He nodded and leaned his head back against the mattress. "Everyone knows about Daniel. You got the news he was dead and you went to the barn and slit your wrists. But what I'm asking is why. Why did you do it?"
She looked at him incredulously. "I just told you."
"You told me the facts, I want to know why. What would cause you to go to the barn and think you had no other way out?"
In her time in the box, she had wondered the same thing. Surely, she could have had some sort of life after Daniel. She could have found another suitor, maybe. If not, she could have ended up like Dorothy Lang and became an old maid. In any case, she could have lived an actual life. "I was just… I was so upset… so sad. I couldn't deal with a life without Daniel. You have to understand, he was my everything. I didn't want to live in a world where he wasn't. I wanted to see him in Heaven."
"Glad that worked out for you." He didn't say it mean. In fact, he had a little smile on his lips. She smiled back and felt her cheeks blush, not from embarrassment, but from the way he was looking at her. No one had looked at her like that except Daniel… looked at her like she was special.
She shook her head to get that out of her head and took a big deep breath. This guy couldn't replace Daniel, and he was wanting her gone as soon as possible. There was no reason to get attached or even fathom the idea of him being drawn to her. She was a problem for him to solve and one to get rid of as soon as possible so no one would find out that he set the church on fire. Perfect.
Her smile must have faded. "What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head and plastered on another smile, this time much less brilliant. "Nothing. It's nothing. Just, it's sad talking about Daniel and the barn. I didn't see any other way out. It probably wasn't smart, and yes, I'm paying for it now."
"But you have a second chance. Not everyone can say that."
"Very true. Thanks to the magic ring of destiny." She looked at her left hand. Without the ring, she'd be dead. When she took it off, she was. The ring had more power than she ever thought possible, and she couldn't help wondering if Daniel had known it when he'd bought it from the Louisianan, or if it had been a happy coincidence.
"Speaking of the ring, I need to check the message board and find out if anyone knows anything else about it." He pulled out his rectangular contraption and fiddled with it. Lizzie watched intently as flashes of light and pictures flashed on it.
"It's called a smartphone." Shane grinned and showed it to her.
"It's amazing. Between that and the box over there." She pointed to the larger, flat rectangle on the other side of the room where muted pictures of people flashed about. "This era is all about movement."
"Actually, it's all about being stationary and not talking, but chatting with everyone and their brother through these devices," he said, as he pushed a few more things until a light blue picture appeared with words on it. The top said All Things Mystical Message Board.
"Mystical? Is that of the devil?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. She was genuinely curious. She'd feared the demon so long, she wanted to ask questions about his role in the new age.
Shane shrugged. "Some people think so. I think it holds the answers to your ring. Look, we've got a few hits."
She'd never heard of a 'hit' being a good thing, but she took it to mean by his expression that it was.
Shane read silently to himself and her thoughts returned to her parents. "I feel bad, you know. About killing myself. My poor mother. To live alone without me or my father… it had to be hard."
Shane's head snapped around and his brow lifted. "You don't know?"
"Know what?"
His cheeks reddened and his eyes lowered.
"What?"
"Lizzie, I don't know how to tell you this, but your father didn't die in the war."
"What?" she exclaimed with her hand drawing toward her mouth.
"He didn't die. Before I came back a little bit ago, I Googled you. According to the internet, your father came back when he heard of your death. He even helped bury you in his church. He and your mother even had another child. A daughter."
"There's no way. None." She scooted up on her knees. She'd been so sure he was gone. So sure, and now to find out he'd actually lived. Not only lived, but had a life without her.
"I'm sorry to be the one
to tell you, I guess. I suppose most people would be happy to find out their father had lived."
"But he's not alive now so what does it matter?" she said bitterly.
"It does matter because he got to live. I think he lived to see the 1900s. He lived a long, good life."
"Without me."
"That was your doing. Not his."
Ouch. Did he have to be so blunt?
"I'm sorry," he said. She thought he meant it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."
She pondered accepting his apology.
"You know, actually I did mean to say it."
She was sure her jaw dropped. Of all the ways to say he was sorry… "Thanks."
"No, I mean it, Lizzie. Suicide is a very permanent solution to a short term problem."
"Don't you think I know that?"
"Now you do. And now you have a second chance. Don't waste it."
She shook her head and bit her tongue. The subject needed to be changed. "So, my father was alive."
"Yes."
"And this internet told you that?"
He nodded.
"And there is a museum at my home?"
"Yeah." He drew it out, clearly getting where she was going with this.
"I know you don't want me to, but I need to go see this museum myself."
Shane sat up straighter. "We've been over this. It's not a good idea for Lizzie Monroe to show up at the Lizzie Monroe Museum. It might mess up the space time continuum or something."
"The what?"
"Never mind. The point is you can't go."
A determination she'd never felt before coursed through her veins. She clamped her hand on his and gave it a good squeeze. "I've been cooped up for years, decades, unable to do what I wanted. Don't tell me I can't go. It has to close sometime. We can just go when it's dark."
Shane grunted and pulled his hand away, squeezing his fingers into a fist like she'd hurt him. Good. "Fine. When it's dark we'll go. We can break in or something."
"You know how to do that?"
He only raised his brow as an answer. He returned his attention to the phone device. "Okay, this guy says that he might know something about the ring."
"Really?" She scooted closer and looked over Shane's shoulder. He glanced to the side and, with a small lick of his lip, back to the device. His expression had given her butterflies in her stomach. She had to wonder if he felt them too, but that was probably just wishful thinking.
Shane cleared his throat. "Yeah. Uh… he said he's heard of a spell that can be placed on an object that can alter the nature of the object."
"Black magic?"
"Magic, but I'm not sure the color." He moved the words on the device down so swiftly she couldn't keep up. "Says it had to have been a pretty powerful person to even put such a curse on the ring."
"A curse pretty much sums it up," she said under her breath.
"Miracle. We are calling it a miracle," he corrected.
"Thought you didn't believe in miracles."
Shane opened his mouth to speak then shut it again. Clearly he'd walked into a wall there. "Let's just say that maybe there might be something to it."
She had to laugh. It was nice aggravating him. It was nice to aggravate anyone. More than anything, it was nice to even be around someone.
"Anyway, he says we might want to try to find the original curse to break it, but we don't want to break it."
"We don't?"
"No. We don't." His eyes were intense when he said it and curiosity filled them. "You aren't dying again. I couldn't take it… the… uh… mess. The mess. I couldn't take the mess."
There was something different about him now. Something she couldn't place, but she honestly thought he'd miss her if she was gone. "Well, I guess I'll have to keep the ring on… for you."
"For me." He nodded and stared deep into her eyes. For a second, she thought he might kiss her. Did people kiss a girl they only knew two days in this time? All she knew was if he kept looking at her like that, she'd let him.
After a second or two, he cleared his throat and started reading the screen again. "The person, he/she can't die, decay, or otherwise fade away as long as the ring stays on."
"Sounds about right."
"But…"
The bedroom door sprang open, making both Shane and Lizzie sit up in surprise. "Sorry." Cheyenne cringed. "Didn't mean to scare you. I just found some clothes for Lizzie." She held up some wardrobe choices. One was a kind of short purple skirt with a black short sleeved shirt. And the other was a longer black skirt with a lavender long sleeved shirt. "It's June so I wasn't sure you'd want sleeves, then I remembered who I was dressing and thought I'd chance it. Did you guys even wear short sleeves back in the day?"
"Not really. It wasn't appropriate," Lizzie answered.
Cheyenne shook her head. "How did you not burn up?"
She shrugged. "Didn't know any better, I guess."
"Guess not." She came over and grabbed Lizzie by the arm, pulling her to her feet.
"Hold on, sister." Shane jumped up with her. "Lizzie's fragile. Don't be throwing her around."
"I'm not. I'm taking her to shower. She's pretty dingy. No offense. Then to my room to change clothes. After that we need to clean this floor."
"Okay, you two do that. I'll be reading up on the ring and the spell." He sat at the desk and pushed a button before another picture lit up in front of him. This world and their moving pictures. Did they never just sit and read a book?
"Aren't you going to help us clean up the blood?" Cheyenne asked as she helped Lizzie up.
"Nah. Woman's work." His head hit the desk when it collided with the pillow thrown by Cheyenne.
"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. Lighten up." He got up and took Lizzie's other arm, placing it over his shoulder. It felt wobbly walking. Wobbly but good. Cheyenne had one arm. Shane the other. "See, Lizzie? You're making progress."
Progress. Progress was good.
****
Before Shane knew it, the bright sunlight started to fade, turning the sky into a dullish gray color. Glancing at the clock on the right of his computer screen for the first time, he saw that it was getting close to six p.m.
Frustrated, he leaned back in his chair, racked his hands through his messy hair and yelled an expletive into the universe. "Cheyenne!" He yelled with just as much volume.
He yelled for her again when she didn't answer.
A few seconds later, footsteps clomped down the hall and his door flung open. "What?" she huffed. "We were in the middle of something."
"What you and Drake do on your own time is your business." He seethed. "But not with Lizzie here and not when I needed to stay focused and leave at least by two."
She plopped her hands on her hips. "I'm not mom. It's not my job to keep you on task. If you sat here four hours longer than you intended, that's on you. Not me. I've been busy."
"I don't want to know with what." And he really didn't. Why she gave Drake the time of day, he'd never figure out. The guy was an idiot, and even more so here lately.
"Not with Drake. Nice to know what you really think of your sister."
She was miffed. Perfect. So was he. "Doesn't matter what I think of you right now. The point is I stared at this screen too long and missed prison visiting hours."
Cheyenne looked confused. "Why do you want to go see Dad so bad? You haven't even spoken to him in five years."
He couldn't believe he actually had to explain this to her. "You would be a horrible detective." He sighed. "Lizzie needs papers to live in the twenty-first century, right? She has none because, hello, she's like ancient."
Shane stopped talking and examined her to see if maybe the light bulb clicked on. Finally, longer than he expected, it did. "Dad's in jail for forgery. Driver's licenses, Social Security cards…"
"Birth certificates for some illegal aliens," he completed her train of thought for her.
"You thought you'd go talk to him and he could give you some tips of t
he trade?"
He shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."
"You don't think he'd wonder why you suddenly became interested?"
"Doesn't matter. He knows how. I need to know how. Therefore, I ask. Simple."
He was going to keep going because Cheyenne didn't appear to be convinced when another set of footsteps entered his room. They weren't dainty. In fact, they slid and didn't sound graceful at all.
Lizzie. She'd actually walked in on her own.
"We've been practicing." Cheyenne beamed beside of him. "She's walking well, don't you think?"
"She is. Con-congratulations," Shane studdered as he looked at Lizzie. Gorgeous. Amazing.
Lizzie.
Cheyenne's own person dress-up doll.
Her hair had been brushed and straightened, falling in a gorgeous cascade around her shoulders. She had the slightest hint of makeup on, rosy cheeks and pale pink lips. Her ruined antique white wedding dress was replaced with a white button up shirt with sleeves almost hitting her elbows. A long black skirt flowed toward her ankles and a pair of teal flip flops showed her cute little toes. Lizzie stood there and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. Her magic ring sat purposefully on her finger. Shane saw nothing she should be nervous about. She was beautiful.
"What do you think?" Cheyenne smiled, knowingly.
It took a second for words to form. "Nice. She looks… nice."
"That's it?" Cheyenne's demeanor fell, but Lizzie grinned from ear to ear.
"Thank you, Mr. Davis."
"You're welcome, Miss Monroe."
Why couldn't he get the goofy grin off of his face? He'd spent almost twenty-four hours with Lizzie, but he didn't think he'd ever saw her as an actual woman before. Scary zombie? Sure. But not like this. Not like the pretty girl before him. He could see why Daniel had fallen in love with her.
Shaking that horrible thought out of his head — he couldn't fall in love — he swiveled his chair back to the desk and the research that had occupied his entire afternoon.
"Find anything?" Lizzie asked from right behind him. He closed his eyes, not knowing she was so close. Calm down, man. Just stop it. She'll be gone in a few days if all goes well. Just. Chill.
"Um…" He had to clear his throat to get started. Cheyenne smirked. She'd noticed. Of course, she had. That girl was like a bloodhound when it came to his romantic life — not that he had or would ever have a romantic life with Lizzie. For one, she was a much older woman. And for another, she was still madly in love with this Daniel guy. She'd killed herself over him, for goodness sake. If that wasn't having it bad, he didn't know what did. She didn't have feelings for him. It wasn't possible. And he couldn't have feelings for her. That was suicide. "I learned that the ring more than likely came from New Orleans. I looked up Daniel's company in the war, and there was only one man on record from there. Jessup Dupree. Didn't find much on him. He died in the war as well."