Apotheosis

by Joshua Edward Smith

  Charlie shook his head. “I am being falsely accused. My relationships with my employees are always strictly professional.”

  Phillip raised an eyebrow. “So, when does the party start?” he asked.

  “Celita’s cousin should be here any minute to start setting up the tents and stuff. Should be in full swing by like two, I think.”

  The door opened, and Julia and Alice emerged from the inn. “You made it!” Cynthia yelled, leaping up from her seat to hug the two women. She introduced them to Charlie and Phillip. “It’s early. You made good time.”

  “I drove fast,” Julia said. “Focusing on the driving kept me from killing her.”

  “You’re no peach to travel with yourself, you know,” Alice shot back.

  “Such love between you two. It warms my heart,” Cynthia said with a laugh. “Grab some breakfast, and I’ll get you checked in shortly. Billy can take your bags to your rooms after he finishes with the buffet.”

  “I need a shot of something,” Alice said.

  “There’s champagne that I use for when new guests arrive. I’ll fix you some mimosas,” Cynthia offered.

  “Perfect!” Julia said. “I can’t believe this place! You own this?”

  “More or less,” Cynthia said, winking at Phillip. “Phillip there is my not-so-silent partner.”

  Alice looked him up and down. She had the look of a lion surveying a herd of zebra.

  “He’s married,” Cynthia said.

  Alice pouted. “Oh.”

  “Come on. Let’s get you fed and a little drunk,” Cynthia said, heading through the door.

  ¤

  “Have you seen my little brother?” Phillip asked. Dusk had fallen, and Cynthia was sipping tequila with the Knights of the Round Table, in a dark corner of the yard away from the action. She had found a high-end bottle at a liquor store in the city, and the old men were thrilled with the quality. Even though she couldn’t understand a word they said, she knew they loved her.

  Cynthia scanned the crowd. “Hmm. Well, I don’t see Nina, so I suspect the two of them are in flagrante delicto someplace.”

  “Ah. Yeah, that makes sense,” he said, pulling up a chair. “So what are we drinking?”

  Sir Lancelot poured him a shot.

  “The little blurb at the store said it’s a sipping tequila. I’m trying my best to sip it, but it’s an unnatural act.”

  Phillip took a small sip, winced, and then slammed it back. “I agree.” He shuddered. “I don’t really like tequila.”

  “You’re at the wrong place, padre,” Cynthia said. The old men laughed.

  “I was just talking to a guy who says he’s the cop who investigated the arson. I guess he went to Momma’s church?”

  “Yup. He’s a good guy,” Cynthia said.

  “He said Junior got life, but because of the plea he can get out in twenty if he behaves himself.”

  Cynthia nodded. “Yeah, I heard that, too. I’m not worried. The chances of that idiot behaving himself seem slim to none. He’s probably in the Aryan Brotherhood.”

  “Yeah, I guess that would make sense. I still can’t believe he did what he did. It was… disproportionate,” Phillip said.

  Cynthia shrugged. “What happened happened. Nobody got hurt—except him—and the Phillips House is back. Emma took care of us.”

  “They say the dead come back today, right? To visit?” Phillip asked.

  The old men all nodded.

  “Yeah,” Cynthia said. “Kids come back for Halloween, and the grownups are here today. Tomorrow everyone is supposed to go to the cemetery to say goodbye.”

  “I feel her,” Phillip said.

  “Yeah, me too,” Cynthia agreed.

  Celita’s cousins were providing the music again. This fiesta was similar to the one they had after Emma’s funeral, except there weren’t as many Baptists in attendance, and everyone was dressed in brighter colors. Cynthia leaned back in her chair and watched everyone dancing and eating, and the kids running around, some in their Halloween costumes. She breathed the air. It was thick with smoke and spice, tequila and maybe a hint of weed. She grinned, knowing that she was probably the only one who could smell the weed.

  Her attention was drawn to the white plastic table in front of her when an insect landed in the middle with a small thud. It looked a little like a beetle—about an inch long and quite narrow, with leathery wings. She was studying it when the area around it on the table took on a green glow. She realized that the light was coming from the bug itself. Cynthia smiled at it, and it flew back into the evening sky.

  She followed the firefly with her gaze as it painted a series of green stripes over the crowd, finally disappearing into one of Emma’s gardens. She noticed Deena gesturing to Phillip, who had joined her near the garden, and figured she had seen it, too.

  Cynthia shifted her attention to the center of the yard. Charlie was dancing with Alice. They were both laughably bad dancers. Celita and Maria were at a table, laughing with some children. Patrick and Nina were on the porch, looking at Emma’s shrine.

  Cynthia opened her heart and let them all in.

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