Tee gaped at him. “Really, my dude? You wanna explain that magnificent feat of poetic analysis for us?”
“Yeah, I mean Atlantic and the Parkway are like the two major-major streets in Brooklyn, really. And plus, that’s right before Atlantic gets all bridge-like and goes past that hotel.”
A vigorous shouting match ensued. Sierra felt that if she could just be alone for a few seconds to clear her head, maybe she could make sense of the poem. She mumbled something about having to pee and walked back into El Mar. The waitstaff were all busy cleaning up and putting the tables back in order. Sierra slipped past them and into the dingy ladies’ room.
Wick’s final, frantic journal entry still echoed through Sierra. He had wanted spirit powers he’d kept secret from Lázaro — whatever creepiness those Sorrows had taught him. And he thought he should get Lucera’s role. Sierra gazed into the murky mirror over the sink, past all the hearts and names etched into the glass. How could something as sacred and beautiful as shadowshaping get twisted to make corpuscules and haints? The thrill of watching her chalk creations come to life in the park had been the most amazing thing she’d ever felt.
Robbie. She felt calmer just thinking about him. At least she had a partner in this madness. She smiled. That moment in the Club Kalfour came swimming back: the swirling paintings, the old-man band busting out that sweet Caribbean soul music, Robbie’s hands wrapped around her …
Sierra opened her eyes and realized she was swaying back and forth, a slow salsa step with an imaginary Robbie in her arms. She was dancing. She watched the reflection of her body move in the smudged glass. Something inside her head clicked. She was lonely. She was a lonely woman dancing.
“The mirror!” Sierra shouted, bursting out of the bathroom. A room full of irritated waiters turned their curious stares in her direction. She ignored them and busted outside to see her friends. “It’s the mirror!” she said again.
They gawked at her.
“Uh … care to explain, crazy lady?” Izzy said.
“Where lonely women go to dance. We dance in front of the mirror. When we’re lonely.”
“Really?” said Jerome. “Is that what ya’ll do?”
“That’s what I just did.”
Bennie scratched her chin. “It does sound right, somehow.”
“Of course it’s right!” Sierra said. The rest of the answer was so close, she could feel it all about to fall into place. “But which mirror?”
“What’s the line before it?” Tee asked. “About the carnival?”
“The water-bound carnival where destiny meets chance.”
“Love that line,” Juan said. “No idea what it means.”
“Well, since we’re speaking of water and such …” Izzy said.
Tee adjusted an invisible pair of glasses and stuck out her front teeth. “Yes, professor?”
Izzy punched her shoulder. “I’m saying: The water is a mirror. You can see the lights of the city reflected in the East River. It’s like the corniest poetry cliché ever. Oh, the moon, reflected in the sea, blah blah blah, blee blee blee.”
“Oh my God,” Bennie said. “She’s right.”
Izzy shot Bennie a look. “Why you sound so surprised?”
“Brilliant!” Tee said. “But still … We’re on an island. There’s water all around us.”
“It’s Coney Island!” Sierra yelled.
“Huh?”
“What else could it be?” She started walking toward the train. “The games, the rides — it’s the carnival of destiny and chance. The moon reflected on the water.”
“You going there now?” Bennie said. “It’s late.”
“Of course,” said Sierra. “Who’s with me?”
Getting to the Q train didn’t take too long; it was waiting on the Prospect Park station platform that seemed endless to Sierra. Everything was fine as long as they were moving, but standing still was making her anxious. She kept trying to imagine some scenario where Manny was okay, walking around somewhere, joking with the domino guys about whatever had happened, but all she could think about was the throng haint looming in the shadows of the printing press. Had it been there? Was that its ragged breath she’d heard as they made their way toward Manny in the darkness?
Izzy and Tee were sitting on a bench, Izzy splayed out in Tee’s lap like an old sweater, and they were talking quietly. Big Jerome was telling Bennie some story about getting picked up by the cops on Marcy Avenue. Bennie nodded and said “Oh, wow” occasionally, but her eyes wandered up and down the subway map, and Sierra could tell her thoughts were elsewhere. Juan sat against a pillar, his head locked between his arms and bent knees like some surly, spiky-haired statue. He probably understood better than any of them what all this was about, having grown up in it and never let on to Sierra …
An angry flame surged inside of her. Juan and her grandpa, talking endlessly about all these deep spiritual things, whole other worlds that Sierra had been completely excluded from. How could they? She breathed in and tried to let the anger go. She stared impatiently into the dark, empty tunnel. This has to end, she thought to herself, and this is the only way I know to do it.
Lonely women dance in the mirror, she texted Robbie. the mirror = the ocean —> coney isl. we on the way. c u there? Then she put her phone away, trying not to wait for a reply. Who else should know? Certainly not her mom. María would just bug out and tell them not to go. She speed-dialed Nydia’s cell instead.
“Sierra? Are you okay?”
“Hey, Nydia! Listen, sorry to call you so late,” Sierra said. “You know that whole thing I’m researching ’bout Wick?”
“Of course, hon. Whatsup?”
“We’re following up with something out in Coney Island. I think … I figured something out.”
Nydia chewed gum for a second. “You sure you okay out there? Coney Island at night? Not so much.”
Apparently all Puerto Rican moms were the same, even if they weren’t your mom. Sierra rolled her eyes. “It’s fine, Nydia. Thank you. But don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be careful.”
“Alright, I’m at the library if you need anything. They got me keeping crazy hours.”
“Thanks again. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
After what seemed like forever, but was really only fifteen minutes, the bright train lights finally came flooding around the corner. Sierra felt a flush of excitement. Whatever happened, this train would bring them that much closer to Lucera.
A scruffy homeless guy was laid out across four seats, stinking up the whole car. They sat on the opposite end. A few seats over, two well-dressed Russian guys slept with their heads on each other’s shoulders, sure to wake up in a concerned flurry at their stop and pretend it had never happened.
Sierra was staring out the window, trying not to see Manny’s endlessly open mouth in the flickering darkness, when Bennie leaned over to her. “Sierra?”
“What is it?”
Juan sat off to one side, still deep in his own world, but Izzy, Tee, and Jerome were all in seats directly across from Sierra, looking right at her.
“You gotta tell ’em,” Bennie said. “They coming all the way out here with you and they don’t even really know why. It ain’t right.”
“Yeah, wassup, Sierra?” Izzy said.
Sierra rubbed her face. “I know, I’m sorry, I just … I don’t know how to tell you this. I’ve wanted to since it started.”
“Well, tell them how you told me,” Bennie said. “Just start from what you found out about the freaky corpsy thing and the shadowshapers. They’ll believe you.”
Sierra wasn’t sure if she would even believe herself, but she started talking, tentatively at first and gradually with more confidence. Juan put in little annoying factoids here and there, but mostly Sierra had the floor. One of the drunk Russian guys woke up and sat listening intently too.
“And that’s … that’s about it, I guess,” Sierra said. It felt like she’d just told her life story, but, really,
only a few minutes had gone by. She looked at her friends’ faces, all wide eyes and mouths hanging open. “Um … hi?”
“Whoa,” Jerome said.
Tee nodded. “Yeah. I don’t even know what to say.”
Sierra scrunched up her face. She hated having to explain something so huge in such a hurry, and hated even more that she felt so dependent on what her friends thought about it all. She sat back.
Izzy had been shaking her head the whole time. “I just … It creeps me out.”
“What does?” Sierra asked.
“The whole thing! The haint creature that came at you in Flatbush, the thing with Manny, all the shadowshapers getting corpusculed. I mean … I don’t even know what to say. I’m freaking out right now.” Tee rubbed soothing circles on her girlfriend’s back, but Izzy swatted her away. “No, stop. I’m serious. What if, Sierra, you’re wrong about all this stuff? We’re doing a whole lot right now, going all the way out to Coney Island, and I’m not saying you’re crazy per se but I’m saying —”
“What are you saying?” Sierra asked. “That I made all this up?”
“I don’t think she’s saying that,” Jerome said. “But there’s gotta be some other explanation.”
“I mean, you don’t know that’s what’s happening,” Izzy said. “All these ghosts and things. It just seems like it right now.”
Tee scooched a few inches away from Izzy. “Are you serious, babe?” she said. “You saw Manny today. Can you think of some other explanation?”
The train screeched to a halt at Avenue J and the doors swung open.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of possibilities,” Izzy said as the doors slammed shut and the train started back up again. “I mean, I’m sure I’m not the only one that thinks this whole thing sounds completely cra —”
“No.” Sierra’s voice sounded cold and faraway, even to herself. Crazy. It was the same word María and Tía Rosa flung at Grandpa Lázaro. The same word anyone said when they didn’t understand something. Crazy was a way to shut people up, disregard them entirely. She shook her head. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to … Don’t. If that’s what you think, then go.”
“Sierra, I didn’t mean …”
“I know what you meant. You said what you meant. Fine. Get off at the next stop. Go home. And take anyone else with you who thinks I should just sit back and chill because I’m crazy.” She scanned the startled faces of her friends. Juan stared glumly out the window.
Izzy stood up as the train slowed into another station. Tears threatened the edges of her eyes. “I didn’t say I thought you were crazy. But fine. Honestly, I think this is ridiculous and probably dangerous. Tee?”
Tee shook her head. “Sorry, babe,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m with Sierra on this one. I said I’d have her back and I do. I can’t run home now. Besides, I wanna see how this plays out.”
Izzy looked like she’d been slapped. Her glossy lips quivered and her eyes narrowed into furious slits.
Jerome stood up. “I’m out too,” he said. “I’m sorry, Sierra. This all just creeps me out. I can’t … I can’t do it. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I just … I can’t.” He shrugged, looking infuriatingly blasé about the whole thing. “I’ll make sure Izzy gets home okay, though,” he said, looking at Tee.
“Such a gentleman,” Tee said, rolling her eyes.
Sierra turned to Bennie. She didn’t want to look desperate, but she’d never felt like she needed her best friend so badly in her entire life.
“What?” Bennie said. “You think if these two losers leave, I’ll leave too?”
The train stopped and the doors slid open. “I don’t know, B. You think I been makin’ the whole thing up?”
Jerome and Izzy looked expectantly at Bennie. Bennie showed them two fingers. “Peace, my people.” She turned to Sierra. “No, Sierra, I do not.”
Sierra smiled, ignoring Izzy and Jerome’s glares as they watched from the platform. “Thank you.”
They pulled out of the station. Sierra and Bennie fist-bumped.
“Alright then!” Tee yelled, disturbing the old homeless man from his slumber. He pulled his filthy baseball cap farther down his face and grumbled. “That was awkward. Now can we go get this Lucinda chick out the sea or whatever?”
“It’s Lucera, Tee,” Sierra laughed.
“Oh, shoot!” Bennie yelled. “The poem!”
Sierra stared at her. “What?”
“The one lures the other who in turn lures the one.”
“So?”
“The full moon killing the sun …. I’m just saying here we are, being lured out to some creepy place, basically chasing the moon, right? Or its reflection anyway.”
Sierra’s heart sank.
“Either way,” Bennie said, “it does speak to Izzy’s whole theory that we just walking into a great big trap, doesn’t it?”
No one answered her.
“Last stop,” the conductor’s voice garbled over the intercom. “Coney Island. Everybody off.”
“Where to now?” Bennie said as they walked onto the platform. Juan trailed a few paces behind the girls.
“The beach, I guess,” Sierra said.
None of them had been to Coney Island in years, and it looked more like an alien planet than their childhood stomping ground. Trash trundled past like tumbleweeds in old Western movies. The streetlights were dim, leaving most of the corners and alleyways shrouded in darkness. All the pizza spots and souvenir stores hid behind graffiti-covered metal grates. Off to their left, massive housing projects cut into the night sky. No one was around. Sierra wasn’t used to seeing any part of the city so deserted.
“This sucks,” Bennie said. “What happened to happy-happy Coney Island?”
“I think that’s a daytime thing,” Tee said. “After midnight it’s grim tower-of-terror Coney Island, apparently.”
“Apparently.”
Up ahead, the ancient Wonder Wheel hung over the sprawl of carnival that hadn’t been torn down or converted into fancy shops. Farther off, the shinier Luna Park cast its orange haze into the dark sky. The wind whipped down the open walkway, through various sideshows, fun houses, and arcades, all grated over and shut down for the night. On the other side of the Wonder Wheel was the boardwalk, and beyond that the beach. They’d have to cross through the darkened carnival area to reach it.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Sierra said.
“Well,” said Bennie, “we’re chasing ghosts into an empty amusement park. How’s that for starters?”
Sierra clenched her teeth. “When you say it like that …”
“I know, I was trying to be funny, but it backfired.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Tee said.
“Alright then,” said Sierra. “Let’s go.” No one moved. “Okay, I’ll start.” She stepped forward. “See, it’s fine.” She took a few more steps, felt the chill ocean breeze. “C’mon, guys.”
Bennie and Tee walked to where Sierra stood, and then the three of them fell into stride together, heading toward the beach. Juan still trailed morosely behind. Grotesquely painted signs announced that the Human Cat and the Living Cyclops lurked nearby. Some kind of hunchback with three eyes and a long tongue gawked from a banner stretched over the street. The air stank of fried food and salt water.
“What do we do if we bump into creepy pale guy and them?” Bennie said.
Tee shushed her, stopping suddenly. Nobody moved for a few seconds.
“Maybe … just the wind,” Bennie said very quietly.
All the darkened inlets and corridors that stretched into the carnival’s back alleys seemed to writhe and simmer. Each scurrying rat and windblown soda can racked up Sierra’s growing nervousness. “We’re so close,” she whispered. “The boardwalk’s just up ahead.”
Then why did it seem so far away?
A cloud bank drifted slowly by above them, and for the first time that night, the nearly full moon made a timid appearance. Sierra looked
up and felt a wash of relief at the sight of that somber, shining face looking back at her.
“Do you know how we’re gonna find Lucera once we get to the beach?” Bennie asked.
The boardwalk stretched dark and empty to either side. Occasional lampposts opened up dreary patches of light.
“Uh-uh,” Sierra said. “But we’re gonna figure it out. Look!”
As they stepped onto the boardwalk, the whole ocean seemed to spread out before them. It looked like it went on forever; both the sky and the sea were so dark you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. The moon hung huge and low over the water, sent ripples of light dancing along a pathway toward the shore. “That’s it. The mirror,” Sierra said. “I know it.”
Something was pulling her toward the water. All she wanted to do was beeline for the waves. The beach before them was empty except for a few bums sleeping in little huddled circles. Their bodies were splayed out at odd angles amidst candy wrappers and empty beer bottles. Sierra felt a familiar edginess creep over her.
“Oh, great, here we go,” Bennie was saying. “Can’t go nowhere in New York without some bum tryna get fifty cents off ya. I swear.”
One of the drunken slumberers had risen from the pack and was stumbling toward the boardwalk. He was wider than the others and lumbered with an unsteady gait. Sierra caught her breath as a scratchy, familiar-sounding voice blasted through her mind: Sierra!
Everyone squinted into the darkness.
“Who is that?” Bennie said.
Two other figures were standing now, walking toward them.
“I don’t know,” Sierra said. “But I don’t like it. Let’s get …”
Sierra! Sierra! The raspy whisper kept burning through her thoughts. It was the throng haint, she was sure of it. She didn’t know where it was, but it was approaching fast.
She froze, transfixed by its beckoning.
Then Bennie screamed as the figures coming toward them broke into a run. Bennie and Tee shot down the boardwalk toward the Wonder Wheel. Juan grabbed Sierra and yanked her toward one of the shuttered-up fried-food stands.
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