by Gary Jonas
When I closed my eyes, I saw Abigail. I remembered the taste of her lips. The feeling of her kissing me back. The sound of her voice. The aroma of her perfume.
I sat up.
“Son of a bitch,” I said.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I could not go to sleep.
This was unacceptable.
Napping was my goddamn superpower. How could a witch take that away from me? I never felt like I had to be with anyone. I liked thinking only of myself. It sure made life easier. There’s a certain freedom in not giving a shit what anyone thinks.
Now I wondered what she was doing. What was she thinking? Was she thinking of me?
I got up, went upstairs, ignoring the sounds of Michael and Sabrina damaging the drywall, and put on my shoes. I considered taking my phone, but it was charging, and I’d be too tempted to call her. Then I went downstairs, out the front door, and headed toward the beach.
The scent of salty air on the breeze coming off the Gulf invigorated me. A couple weeks back, I’d met a girl on the beach. Wouldn’t it be amazing if Abigail was out for a walk, too? That would be awesome. We could walk along the beach, waves crashing around our ankles as we talked and held hands. Then she could try to kill me again and all would be wrong with the world.
I broke into a jog.
My feet pounded on the sand as I trotted down the beach toward Pleasure Pier. It was summer, so the rides stayed lit all night, even though the amusement park closed at eleven. But maybe Abigail was there anyway.
Jesus. Clearly, the spell was messing with my head.
It needed to stop, and it needed to stop now.
I turned and ran back the way I’d come, then turned toward the seawall, and took the stairs to street level two at a time. I had to wait for traffic to clear out, then I jogged across the street at the light, and cruised toward Broadway.
A few more blocks and I was home.
I took a few minutes to catch my breath, then went inside. It was time to try and sleep again. Engage my superpower. I went up to my room, checked the time on my phone—almost eleven—and saw I had a new message.
It was from Abigail.
I’d missed her call. Damn. I should have taken the phone with me. She hadn’t left a message. Double damn with peanut butter.
And I don’t even like peanut butter.
I wanted to call her right then and there, but the trip to and from the beach had served me well, and my standards finally started to click into place. I say started because I had to actually think about it. I’d gotten Abigail’s number that very day. You have to turn in your man card if you call a girl before at least three days have passed. In fact, it’s best to wait a week so the girl thinks you’ve forgotten her. I could violate the rule because I was a musician, but that rarely happened. Normally the girl called me.
And Abigail had called.
Didn’t that mean I should call her back?
I checked the voicemail message.
Dead air.
Dammit.
I weighed my options. Call her or get some sleep?
Sorry, Abigail, sleep will win that battle every time unless I’m guaranteed to get lucky.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When I rolled out of bed at a quarter past one in the afternoon, I had to piss like a Russian racehorse. I staggered into the restroom, let loose, and the ghost of Demetrius stepped through the wall. I jerked away and pissed on the wall for a second before adjusting the stream back to the toilet.
“Jesus, kid! What are you doing here?”
“The lady who helped take my Auntie Regina is at my house, and I’m scared. What if she wants to abduct me too?”
Abigail was at his house? “Just her or does she have helpers?”
“Just her, but she went right into my bedroom.”
I tucked the Beast away, then flushed the toilet. I looked at the wet wall. Would the maid service clean that? Would they even think to do so? I mean, how many people pee on their walls? Maybe I could leave them a note. Not saying I peed on the wall, but just saying to wash the walls. Would that seem weird? Did I care if it seemed weird? I could kick in an extra bill and they wouldn’t complain much.
That meant I’d have to remember to leave a note.
Demetrius stared at me and at the wet spot on the wall. “That might stain,” he said. “My momma would whoop my butt if I took a leak on the wall. Back when I could take a leak.”
It seemed like he missed it. “My mother told me it wards off piss demons,” I said.
“There are piss demons?”
“Not here,” I said. “They can’t get past the piss wards.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Yes, I am. Go wait in the other room. I’m going to take a shower.”
He walked through the wall into my bedroom. Before I’d even turned on the water, he poked his head back through the wall.
“Doesn’t your mama make you clean your room?”
“She gave up on that when I was your age, little man.”
“But I’m older than you. Auntie Lakesha told me I’ve been dead for more than thirty years, and I was nine when my daddy killed me, so…”
I shooed him back through the wall. “Whatever, kid. Move it.”
After a shower, shave, and a good tooth brushing, I felt almost human. I wrapped a towel around my waist and went into my bedroom to get dressed for the day’s adventure.
Demetrius sat on my bed and watched me choose clothes.
“You mind turning around?” I asked. “I want to get dressed.”
He turned around. “Hurry up,” he said. “I want my house back.”
I got dressed, and Demetrius followed me downstairs. Sabrina was kicked back on the sofa watching TV. She reached over to the table and pressed a button on her phone to check the time.
“You’re late to your meeting with Lakesha,” she said. “Who’s the ghost kid?”
“Demetrius, this is Sabrina.”
“Hi, Demetrius,” she said. “You can call me Bri.”
“Call her Cheese Whiz,” I said.
He looked up at me. “Why would I do that?” He waved to her. “Hi, are you Brat’s wife?”
She looked aghast. “Good God no,” she said. “You think I’d have to settle for a stoner slack-off like him? Sadly, he’s my cousin so I have to put up with him.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Me too,” she said.
“Don’t go siding with her, Demetrius. I’m the one who can get you more comic books.”
He looked up at me, then looked over at Sabrina. “Sorry, Cheese Whiz,” he said. “I want more comics. Brat got me some cool comics.”
She laughed. “I can buy comic books for you, Demetrius. In fact, I can take you to the comic store so you can choose your own comics.”
“That would be awesome!”
“Don’t go one-upping me,” I said and walked through to the kitchen. “Do we have anything to eat?”
“I don’t know. Have you been to the store?”
“No.”
“Then I doubt you’ll find anything edible in there.”
I checked the refrigerator anyway. Condiments filled the door, but the shelves were bare except for a takeout box. I didn’t remember bringing home a takeout box. My stomach growled, so I took the box out and opened it. The contents looked like they could get up and walk away on their own. I leaned away from it in case it attacked. When I felt safe, I closed the box and put it back in the fridge.
“Hey, Cheese Puff,” I said, moving back into the living room. “Want to come with us to face that witch from yesterday?”
“Shouldn’t you take a witch to face a witch?” Sabrina asked.
“Did I misread the manual again? I could have sworn it said to take a bitch to face a witch.”
“Don’t get cute,” she said. “You’ve never opened a manual.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “I opened one to use as a fan to get bett
er air flow once. Are you going to come along for the ride or are you going to stay here and watch Family Feud all afternoon?”
She sighed. “I’m supposed to start your magic lessons today, but you slept in.”
“As you knew I would.”
She turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the table. “Your dad is going to want progress or I won’t get a raise next month.”
“He’s paying you to teach me?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“And you get to stay here?”
She nodded. “He pays me extra to stay here because you’re living here too. He called it hazard pay.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
“Language,” she said. “There’s a kid present.”
“The kid is older than both of us.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sabrina drove us to Demetrius’s house in her new Kia Soul. On the ride over, Demetrius sat in the backseat gazing out the window, and I placed a call to Lakesha.
“You’re late,” she said.
“You always say that.”
“You’re always late.”
“Yeah, well, Abigail is at Regina’s house. Can you meet us over there?”
“I have a shop to run.”
“You’ve made, what, one sale in the hours I’ve spent in your store?”
“My clients mostly shop in the morning.”
“Right. You know what I think?”
“You think the braille on drive-through ATMs is for blind drivers.”
“Leave the humor to me,” I said.
“Fine. I don’t give a good goddamn what you think, Brat.”
“Are you going to meet us at Regina’s?”
“Who’s with you?”
“Demetrius and Sabrina.”
“I think Sabrina can handle any magic required.”
“But Abigail is a witch.”
“What’s your point?”
“Shouldn’t there be some witch on witch action? I mean magically speaking, not sexually speaking.”
“I’m so glad you clarified that. If I close the shop to go over there, it’s going on your father’s bill.”
“Fine. Charge him for a full day’s sales. That ought to be at least ten bucks.”
“You think you’re funny.”
“I think the only reason you agreed to teach me is because my father is paying you a shitload of money.”
“It hasn’t been enough so far.”
“Oh,” I said with a laugh. “It never will be.”
“Is that a prediction or a threat?”
“Both.”
“Just remember that’s a two-way street.”
“Challenge accepted,” I said. “See you at Regina’s.”
“Or not,” she said and hung up.
I frowned. Lakesha had been quick to close the shop to help Demetrius before. So what changed?
“She’s coming, right?” Sabrina asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You asshole. You probably pissed her off enough to make her stay home. Abigail is a powerful witch. We could use Lakesha’s help.”
“You call her and convince her.”
Sabrina turned onto the street where Regina’s old house sat. “Maybe we should just go pick up Lakesha.”
“We don’t need her.”
“Your call.”
Sabrina pulled up in front of the house and parked.
Demetrius stepped through the side of the car and raced to the house. He ran right through the front wall of the building and disappeared before I managed to get out of the car.
Sabrina and I entered the house.
“Demetrius?” I called. “Abigail?”
“In my room,” Demetrius said.
We walked down the hall to his bedroom. Abigail stood on a stool with her head in a noose. She gripped the rope and her feet seemed to be fighting to kick over and to steady the stool at the same time.
“What the hell?” I said.
“Help me,” Abigail said. “She’s trying to kill herself again.”
“Should have thought of that before you abducted her,” I said.
“Let my Auntie Regina go!” Demetrius said.
A light went on in Abigail’s eyes. Her gaze focused on me. “You’re right. I can try one more time.”
And she let go of the rope around her neck, aimed her forearms at me and spoke some words in a language I couldn’t identify,
Regina’s ghost shot from Abigail’s tattoos and plowed right into me with a blast of cold air.
I didn’t have time to dodge, and I instantly felt the urge to kill myself. It didn’t matter how, though hanging called out more than anything else.
“Sabrina,” I said. “You might want to knock me out so I don’t kill myself.”
“What?”
Abigail hopped off the stool. “Here you go, asshole,” she said.
I climbed onto the stool and took hold of the rope. I tried to fight it, but the urge was strong. I had an overpowering feeling that I’d failed and didn’t deserve to live. I pulled the rope over my head. It was time to end it all. Just kick the stool over and choke to death. My legs wobbled as my feet moved to try and tip the stool over. The stool tilted to one side, then the other, then back again.
And it finally fell over.
“Brett, no!” Sabrina yelled.
But she was too late. I dropped.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My feet hit the ground.
Regina, like Abigail, stood maybe five foot two in heels. I stood six feet tall. Where their legs would have dangled without touching the floor, I could stand flat-footed.
I laughed and took the rope off my neck. Regina tried to push me to slit my wrists or to find another way to kill myself. But with her initial effort over, I was back in control.
While I understood the pressure and stress Regina felt, my method of handling it was to not bother to try and live up to expectations. I didn’t feel guilty about it the way she did. Her efforts hadn’t been enough to save Demetrius or her sister. Those were powerful emotions, but they weren’t my emotions. I liked Demetrius. He was a good kid for a ghost. But I didn’t feel like his death had anything to do with me.
All of this rushed through my head as Sabrina grabbed my arm.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m good,” I said. I turned to Abigail. “You really didn’t kill your boyfriend.”
“Weston wasn’t my boyfriend.”
“So you’re saying there’s a chance for us.”
“I just threw a suicidal ghost into you.”
“I survived,” I said. “How do I get her out of me?”
“Without the Solomonic Triangle tattoo? Can’t be done.”
“Regina, get the hell out of me,” I said.
Nothing happened.
“Sorry about that, Brett,” Abigail said. “Your ass is going bye-bye now.”
“Not right now.”
“Soon. She’s going to keep trying to kill herself, which means you’re going to die. It’s going to grow into a compulsive need, and it can happen in mere hours. It’s worse at night, up until eleven. You can’t fight it for long.”
“Well, thanks for that,” I said.
“Anytime.”
“No offense, but you don’t look so good,” Sabrina said.
“I still think you’re hot,” I said.
Abigail ignored me. “Fighting that ghost took a lot out of me.”
“Good,” Sabrina said. “I don’t relish the thought of fighting you again.”
“I’m not going to fight,” Abigail said.
“I don’t trust you.”
“Nor should you, but I’m exhausted.”
“In that case,” I said, “what say you sit down and tell us what’s going on?”
Abigail sat down on the dusty floor. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
I nodded. “I don’t think you’re a bad girl. Well not bad as in evil. I kinda hope you li
ke to be a bad girl in certain situations.”
“Shut up, Brett,” Sabrina said.
She sat on the floor facing Abigail.
“Thanks,” Abigail said. “He was heading toward Inappropriate Avenue.”
“He owns a lot of property there,” Sabrina said.
“No, I just rent,” I said.
“Sit down, Brett,” Abigail said.
“Anything for you, Abigail.” I sat down and we formed a triangle of our own. Abigail, Sabrina, and myself. Demetrius hung back and seemed unsure what to do. Not that he could have done much. He was a ghost.
Abigail ran a hand through her hair and the smell of her perfume drifted into my nostrils again. I felt a pull toward her, and now that she wasn’t trying to kill me, I welcomed it. If I played my cards right, I might get lucky tonight.
But tonight was hours away, and I’d have to ditch Sabrina and the kid at some point to get some alone time with the lovely witch.
She idly ran her fingers through the dust on the floor. “I don’t know where to begin,” she said.
“The beginning is traditional,” I said.
She drew an A in the dust. “I was born Abigail Argent.”
“Any relation to Rod Argent?”
“Who?”
I broke into the chorus of the song, “Hold Your Head Up.” When I sang the word “high” I went falsetto and pointed to the ceiling.
She looked at me like I was crazy. Her finger scrawled a B into the dust.
“The band Argent,” I said. “Rod Argent was the keyboardist.” She still looked confused. “Come on, ‘Hold Your Head Up’ had the best organ solo in all of rock and roll.”
“I prefer classical music.” She scrawled a D into the dust then started drawing some geometric pattern.
“Your little spell thing won’t work,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
I pointed to the letters she’d written and the pattern she continued to work on. “A is for Abigail who looks adorable. B is for Brett who wants your bod.” I noted her frown, so I tried to recover. “Sorry, I should have come up with a different B word. And D is for Dana who doesn’t give a damn.”