If I had an inkling, if I knew what it wanted or what encouraged it to possess me, I’d at least have something to go on. Maybe I’d recognize the signs it was going to happen, at the very least, and I could make strides to control this thing. And recently, with everything going on, I’d become complacent and had almost forgotten all about the evil lurking just beneath the surface of my skin.
But today, of all days, when I was trying desperately to placate Coop and find Solomon and help Higgs, while bumbling around this unfamiliar “find a murderer” territory the whole way, it happened.
Just like it always does—in a loud rush of rage and shenanigans.
And it was ugly, and maybe even a little messy.
Just ask the skateboarders.
Chapter 12
One minute, I remember being horrified these boys were treating Madge this way. If the word “bully” is overused via social media and the press by labeling anything and everything bullying, that wasn’t the case here. These were bonified bullies. They were terrorizing her for the sheer pleasure of it, and I wouldn’t have it.
Now, normally I’d try the nun’s way. I’d attempt to talk it out with them. They were teenagers, and while rebellious, they likely wouldn’t expect anyone to fight back.
And that was my intention. To attempt reason with them (my particular brand of fighting back)—and maybe send Coop in to grab Madge’s bag before she collapsed in a panic. I also remember Madge’s crumpled face and her words that they’d done this to her before. She looked defeated, and for all her bravado, she was afraid. I didn’t like that one bit.
So I planned to say as much.
And then I don’t remember anything—until Coop had me backed up into a corner under the bridge, her arm pressed to my chest, and she was yelling (yep. More yelling) in my face, “Trixie Lavender, you must stop this right now!”
When the evil left my body, it was often like a balloon deflating. My limbs turned into spaghetti noodles and my ears experienced this whooshing sound, rather like a tidal wave of water rushing in and out of my head.
The haze in my eyes would clear, and I’d be horrified at what was to come—because Coop was going to tell me, I’m sure.
As everything came back into focus, the sights and sounds under the bridge, the rush of traffic, the chirp of birds, I noted everything else remained silent. Jaws had unhinged, boys were cowering in the opposite corner, and Madge was looking at me as though I’d risen from the dead.
When my eyes met Coop’s, I know she saw the panic in them. Licking my very dry lips, I asked, “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, Trixie. The thing inside you did it.”
Breathing in and out, I looked past her shoulder and saw the terror on everyone’s faces. The boys had abandoned Madge’s purse in favor of pressing their bodies in a huddle of horror, eyes wide, breathing labored. Clusters of the homeless stood immobile and slack-jawed.
“Please tell me I still have clothes on.” Instantly my hands went to my thighs to check.
“You still have clothes on. But you also have some bruises on your knuckles to match the ones on your knees, and your lip is going to be a little swollen. Okay, that’s an understatement. It’s going to be a lot swollen.”
My hand went to my mouth, which was indeed sore. “Did I hit someone?” I squeaked, my pulse racing.
“You almost hit someone, but you missed and hit the concrete piling instead.”
Putting my hands on Coop’s shoulders, I gazed into her eyes, guilt flowing through my veins like ice water. “Tell me.”
I didn’t want to know, but I had to know who deserved an apology.
Coop’s full lips went thin. “You became very angry when the boys wouldn’t give Madge her purse. You demanded they do what you told them. They wouldn’t do what you said, and then things tilted left. I swear on my guts, I didn’t know it was the evil inside you taking over, Trixie, or I would have stopped you.”
As my eyes finally caught up with my brain. I took in the scattered skateboards, broken in many, many, many pieces.
Oh, dear.
Inhale in, exhale out…
“I would have stopped you if I’d known it wasn’t you running around like a mini-tornado.”
“Have you seen a tornado, Coop?”
“I have. I created one once.”
I gasped. “No way.”
She nodded affirmatively with a bounce of her dusky red head. “Yes way. Not the point. The point is, I would have stopped you had I known.”
“Stopped me from doing what, exactly, Coop?” I asked, my hesitance clear in the tone of my voice.
“From going into a rage. You went into one bigtime, Trixie. You screamed so loud when they wouldn’t do what you demanded, and when they called you names, you shattered our windshield.”
Eep. “Did I use my demon voice?” I whispered.
Coop puckered her lips, knowing how I felt about the demon voice. “You did.”
“Was it scary?”
“Just like Jason Meets Michael scary.”
Oh, heavens. “And then?” I winced as I asked.
“And then you ran after them when they tried to get away with Madge’s bag. You tackled the one with the knit cap and the mean, beady eyes, and you dragged him to the wall here and told him Satan was going to eat his soul on a cracker.”
Ooooh, that surely must have inspired faith and goodwill for all the homeless people under the bridge.
“And then?”
“And then when he said something very, very rude, something you told me I should never say, right in your face, you were going to punch him square in the nose—”
“Yep, right in his ugly ol’ kisser!” Madge finally said, her voice trembling as she sort of hovered behind Coop, nervously bouncing from foot to foot.
“But I yelled at you and you missed and instead punched a hole in the concrete.” Her eyes strayed upward and mine followed, my head aching as I did.
Ugh. “I cracked the piling.” Sweet Moses and the Ten Commandments.
“You didn’t just crack it, you made a hole in it. That made them all very afraid.”
“Is there more? Did any of it involve taking my clothes off or swearing?” I’ve been known to say some awful things when under the influence—that and moon my superiors.
“There is more, but you did it with your clothes on and only a couple of bad words. By and large, as bad words go, that wasn’t the worst I’ve ever heard.”
Relief swept through me in a wave as I gripped her shoulders to steady myself. “Go ahead. Tell me the rest.”
She removed her arm from my chest and stepped back a bit. “After you hit the piling and missed, you grew very angry. Almost angrier than I’ve ever seen you before, Trixie Lavender. You stomped over to the rest of the boys and grabbed all of their skateboards and broke them into little pieces, all the while screaming and howling.”
Ah. That explained the shards of skateboard debris scattered everywhere, and my sore throat.
Breathing in, I closed my eyes, my body a blubbery mess of nerves and twitches. And my hand hurt, but as I clenched my fist, fully expecting I’d need a hand surgeon and reconstructive surgery, it surprisingly didn’t feel too bad.
I don’t quite understand when I’m possessed why my physical body doesn’t take as much of a beating as it should. If I’d literally punched a hole in some concrete, by all rights, my hand should at the very least be broken. I mean, holy juggernauts, I put a hole in concrete. But it was only very sore.
“And my lip?”
Coop reached out two fingers and tugged gently at the corner of my mouth. “A piece of shrapnel from the skateboard hit you. But it doesn’t look like you need stitches.”
My eyes went to the ground in shame. Poor Coop. If she could just barely handle my outbursts, and she was as strong as ten men, was there any hope? My deepest fear was I’d become so out of control someday, no one would be able to stop me.
“I’m sorry, Coop.
I know this puts you in a bad spot. I feel dreadful that you have to babysit me like this. If not for you, who knows what kind of damage I would have done?”
But she shook her head. “I was going to put a stop to their shenanigans, too. You did the right thing. I think. I don’t understand this evil entity, but instead of doing harm this time, it did some good, and I think we should roll with it,” she whispered.
“Roll with it?” I was so exhausted and so confused by what had just occurred, I didn’t know what she meant.
“Follow my lead, Trixie Lavender,” she ordered as she turned around, stray strands of hair falling out of her messy bun. “Madge. Please excuse me.” She set Madge behind her and stalked toward the boys with me in tow, shaky-limbed and wide-eyed. “You!” she bellowed (yep. Even more yelling), the echo of it buzzing in my head as she pointed her finger at the four boys, still cowering. “Will never, ever assault Madge With No House again, understood!”
Oooh. Now I got what she meant by roll with it. So I sauntered up to them, bulging my eyes out.
One of them actually summoned the courage to speak, his voice high and quivering. “What is wrong with you, lady?” he squeaked, his eyes watery and red.
What was wrong with me? I’d like to know, too. But I decided to tell the truth—stranger than fiction as it was.
“I’m possessed by an ugly, soul-eating demon! And if you ever pick on anyone again, I’m going to know—and then I’m going to come find you. All of you,” I whispered in my most sinister voice.
I’m pretty sure they already thought I was batty—why not keep up the pretense?
“Trixie…” Coop muttered in warning, her eyes flashing me signals.
“Too much?” I whispered back, grimacing.
The boys began to stir in discomfort and there was even a little whimpering.
But Coop reined them right back in. “Did you hear her?” she howled. “She’ll find you and make mincemeat out of all of you!”
“Yeah! What she said!” I tried to yell some more, but my throat hurt—probably from my screaming like a banshee. “Now get on out of here and don’t come back, you hear me? Or the next time, it’ll be much, muuuch worse!”
Every last one of them was rooted to the spot, frozen in place, staring at me as though I’d ripped someone limb from limb. Which, listen, that option could still be on the table if they played their cards right.
“Did you hear me?” I screeched as loud as was possible with my scratchy throat. “Get out of here, and never bother Madge or anyone here again!”
With those words, four terrified boys skedaddled, running as though the hounds of Hell were chasing them, leaving nothing but the dust of the dirt and kicking up gravel.
And then it was eerily silent for a moment with nothing but the sounds of traffic on the Hawthorne.
I held my breath for a moment, my head pounding and my eyes grainy and tired.
Just as I thought this frightened-half-out-of-their-minds lot of people would never even look at me, much less talk to me again…they began to cheer.
Cheer.
And smile. And clap.
Then someone yelled, “Way to go! You sure showed ’em!”
Mind you, they didn’t approach me—I think that might have been asking too much after using my demon voice and exhibiting the strength of Hercules, but it was a start.
Yet, it was Madge who touched my heart. She came straight up to me and put her arms around my waist and hugged me quickly before letting me go. “Thank you for saving Hello Kitty. I hope you find Solomon and Gilligan. You’re nice. Even if you are possessed.”
A tear stung my eye. We’d connected. That was the start I’d been looking for. “My pleasure, Madge. My pleasure.”
* * * *
“Slow down, Trixie! Land sakes, lass. I’m leavin’ feathers all about the freeway!” Livingston griped.
I’d laugh if I didn’t want to cry. I’d busted our windshield, all right, and now our usual route back to the motel was closed for construction, forcing us to take the highway, which was nearly blowing my skin off. That we hadn’t been pulled over yet was a miracle.
The worst of this, though? We’d have to have a new windshield installed and our deductible was two hundred and fifty dollars. Another chunk of change we could ill afford to let leave our dwindling bank account.
But Coop turned around and gave Livingston the evil eye. “You hush, Quigley Livingston. Trixie’s had a bad day. Stop complaining and be grateful.”
“Grateful she almost blew my eardrums out, lass? I suppose I should be grateful for earthquakes and all manner of natural disasters, too?”
“Livingston! Hush or I’ll leave you in that cage for eternity, and you’ll never see another Tootsie Roll again,” Coop chastised, turning back around with a huff.
Wow. She was chock full of the devil this afternoon, expressing herself left and right in the way of stern tones and harsh admonishments. Threatening Livingston with his beloved Tootsie Rolls was fightin’ words in his book.
As for me? I was suffering from rage remorse. I’d almost hit someone. A child, no less. Well, okay, not a child, but a teenager who was still considered a child under the law. That was unacceptable. We had to find a way to harness this thing inside me or we were going to be in a real pickle.
“Don’t ya tell me to hush when my ears are still ringin’, Coopie! How can I listen to Yeezy if my ears are ringin’?”
Oh, and Livingston loved rap. I was less enthralled by it and more inclined to enjoy the classics of the seventies, like my parents used to listen to on Saturday nights when we all played board games, but to each his own.
“Livingston!”
I patted Coop’s shoulder as I pulled off the highway, grateful for GPS. I wasn’t familiar with this end of Cobbler Cove yet and with the rerouting of our trip home, I felt a little out of my element.
“It’s okay, Coop. He has a right to be crabby.”
“Darn roight, I do, lassie! I’m as close to deaf as I’ve ever been.”
Coop growled, like she’d done in the early days after she’d escaped Hell and the only emotion she knew was anger. “She can’t help it, Livingston. It’s not her fault and you know it. Don’t be such a complainer.”
“Guys, I’m fine. A little roughed up, but fine. Let’s get back to the motel and find some lunch and decide where to go from here. If we don’t find Gilligan, Coop, I’m not sure what else is left. I mean, we can question all the people Crowley rented to, which might lead us to someone whose legs Fergus broke for not paying him back. But Crowley still, as of this morning, hasn’t sent me the list of people he rents to. Aside from that, we don’t have a whole lot in the way of solid leads.”
Coop sighed as we passed another neighborhood I’d like to explore when we had time. There were tons of little shops and fun places to eat. “I know this, Trixie, and I know you’re trying your hardest even though you don’t really know how to be a detective like Stevie.”
If I didn’t love Stevie so much, I might be a little envious of the way Coop idolized her sleuthing skills.
“Have you heard anything from Knuckles today? He said he’d text us if he heard anything about Higgs’s hearing. Mr. Pensky said he was going to try to get him an expedited hearing for bail,” Coop asked, smoothing her hands down over her leggings.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to her. “I had my phone off while I was speaking with the people under the bridge. Turn it on and see, please.”
After passing store after store, we came to a stoplight by a small outdoor market where I’d love to grab some fresh fruit if we had somewhere to store it.
When the light turned green and we crawled along, getting odd looks from people when they noticed our windshield was missing, that was the moment I saw Jay.
Again.
At another bank. Pacific Northwest Mutual, to be precise. I’m pretty sure he saw me, too, but he ducked into the bank before I could be sure.
“How pec
uliar,” I muttered out loud before I realized I had.
Coop stretched her arms and rolled her head on her neck. “What’s peculiar?”
“Everythin’ about bein’ in an owl’s body,” Livingston chirped.
“Everythin’s not about you, Mr. Selfish,” Coop chastised in her spot-on Irish accent. “Now, what’s peculiar, Trixie?”
“Jay.” I’d seen him at three separate banks in one morning. Different banks—not just different branches of the same bank. “I’ve seen him at three different banks today alone.”
Coop frowned and sighed. “Maybe he has a lot of money and they can’t fit it all in one place?” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “I don’t understand money here on Earth yet. After I finish the dictionary, I’m going to study Math For Dummies so I can understand your system of trade. In Hell, we traded things like days in the pit or soul reaping. These pieces of paper kept in a house with doors and windows, and tubes in boxes where you place your paper in them and press a button to send them to a lady who smiles at you and wishes you a good day before giving you another piece of paper, confounds me.”
I laughed thinking about the times I’d taken Coop with me to the drive-thru at the bank and her amazement over the pneumatic tubes, then winced when my lip fought back. It looked far worse than it was, I suppose. It was swollen on the left side of my mouth, but I wasn’t any worse for the wear.
“I promise to teach you everything you need to know about the economic system when things settle down, okay? For now, any word from Knuckles?”
She grimaced and tried to smile, leading me to believe her affection for Knuckles was growing. “He says to meet him at the motel and he’ll buy us lunch.”
I couldn’t let him buy us lunch again. Yesterday, he’d brought us thick, delicious sandwiches from a place called Bunk Sandwiches. I’d had a pork belly Cubano that was to die for, and if I kept this up, my thighs would never be the same. What I needed was a salad and a fasting, or at the very least a treadmill—soon.
As we pulled away from the light, and I tried to catch another glimpse of Jay, I wondered once more who had three different bank accounts at three different banks?
Then There Were Nun Page 16