by Dorian Dawes
* * *
Tiny black eyes attached to an orange and green snout stared Veronika in the face when she woke that morning. Sometime during the night, her familiar had uncoiled itself from her arm to manifest in the physical world. She opened her eyes, feeling its forked tongue tickling her cheek.
"Yiggie?" she moaned sleepily.
"Oh good, the flesh-thing wakes. Enjoy your nap, sleepy-head?" Yiggie's less-than-pleased voice hissed into her mind.
She sat up in bed rubbing her eyes. "Not really."
"Serves you right for entering the dreamlands in this spot. It isn't right, this place. It is connected to the others. Stupid flesh-thing. Couldn't you feel it?"
Veronika held out her arm to allow Yiggie to curl once more around her skin. She watched the spirit's features soften as it entered a contented, relaxed state. She began brushing the top of the familiar's head with the tip of her finger.
"You won't placate my ire with scritches and pats, you know…" Yiggie hissed, revealing its fangs before nestling down into a contented sigh.
"I get it, you're annoyed with me, but that doesn't stop you from getting scritches and pats," Veronika cooed and kissed the top of its head.
"Yes, very good, flesh-thing," Yiggie said. "Something you should know about Rosie … sometimes she is a flesh-thing too. Other times, she is not. Be careful. Today you are safe, for she is flesh-thing. Last night, though, she was something else."
Veronika frowned. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Yiggie."
The spirit creature nodded and then flattened itself against her arm, taking the form of the tattoo once more. Veronika pulled her silk sleeves back over her arms, covering it. A knock at the door caught her immediate attention. Her brow furrowed as she rose to answer it. A woman who looked like Rosie was on the other side, waving happily. She looked like Rosie, but couldn't possibly be the same woman. All the graying tones were gone from her skin and she looked about ten years younger; fresh-faced and full of life and energy. She wore a tasteful amount of makeup, and her hair was pulled back with a bright blue ribbon. She greeted Veronika warmly, wishing her a good morning.
"I'm sorry to be waking you. I'm a tad short-staffed this morning," Rosie said. "There won't be any breakfast in the lobby like normal and since you're our only guest so far today, I thought I'd treat you to breakfast myself. Picken's is open and they serve the best pies on the island. Say you'll join me?"
Veronika was reminded of Rosie's words from last night. Was it really possible that there were two Rosies? She had already begun thinking of them as Daytime Rosie and Nighttime Rosie. This smiling woman looked nearly identical to the dour, mysterious individual from last night but they were almost nothing alike. Veronika smiled politely. "You're very sweet. That sounds lovely. Mind if I take a moment to freshen up and change?"
Rosie beamed. "Delightful! Of course, take your time. Ring for me in the lobby and we'll be off. Also, welcome to Kerryville! I hope your stay here is a pleasant one."
Veronika nodded and said, "It has certainly been interesting so far."
As she closed the door and turned away from the smiling woman, Yiggie hissed into her mind. "So taken aback were you by meeting the other that you missed something, my little flesh-thing."
"And what is that?"
"The star was left. The star was wrong," Yiggie hissed, coils tightening to express its impatience.
Veronika turned back around. She flicked her finger back behind the blinds of the window to peek at Rosie as she waddled her way back to the hotel lobby. The star tattoo on her neck was on the left side and not the right. Veronika backed away from the window, brow furrowed.
* * *
Picken's, the diner Rosie had mentioned, was a short walk away. She happily chattered to Veronika about idle things, typically involving the hotel. She'd acquired the hotel fifteen years ago back when it was in its prime. There weren't too many employees left, as Rosie had been forced to let most of them go one-by-one in a desperate attempt to keep the place open.
"There's really just me and Janine; she cooks the breakfast and occasionally helps me fluff pillows in the mornings. I do most of the cleaning and bookkeeping. Janine's out though, I think she may have quit and not had the heart to tell me," Rosie explained. She sighed sadly. "I've thought about closing up the old place, but then where would people stay when they came through here? This is the last hotel Kerryville has. It'd be almost a death knell to this old town."
"Maybe you should," Veronika offered. "Do something else."
Rosie laughed. "It's not good to indulge those demons, my dear."
The diner was cozy and clean. A gentleman in a brown coat sat at the counter, scowling over a cup of coffee. Sitting by herself in a booth in the corner was an old woman wearing an eye-patch. She had one arm wrapped tightly around a small patchwork baby doll with little button-eyes. Her expression was that of bitter contemplation.
"Maggie. Bernie," Rosie greeted them both as she stepped inside.
Bernie nodded and raised his coffee mug, giving a friendly wink in their direction. Maggie appeared completely oblivious to them. She simply kept staring at the table, lips pursed tightly and shoulders tense. If she moved at all, it was to pull her shawl tight and scowl somehow harder.
A smiling waitress in a blue checkered uniform greeted them. "Good morning, Rosie. Who's our guest?"
"Veronika." She decided to introduce herself before Rosie had a chance. "Roxanne," she said, smiling back. "What can I get for you his morning?"
"Bacon and eggs, over easy if you don't mind," Rosie said, sliding into a booth. "And a slice of cherry pie."
"No pie for me, please. I'll have a coffee and a minute to look over the menu." Veronika smiled politely.
Rosie shook her head and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Really though, if you come to Kerryville, you have to try the pie."
"I'm not in town for pie." Veronika tried to smile and make it sound innocent enough, but acidic annoyance and impatience slipped through.
Roxanne brought them both their coffee and a menu for Veronika. Rosie fixed both eyes on Veronika while she emptied at least four sugar packets into her mug. Veronika soon discovered why diners usually had some kind of music playing over a jukebox or something. The way their walls were built made any sort of silence or the clinking of silverware that much more noticeable and awkward. There was a dust-covered jukebox sitting in the corner with a little out-of-order sign taped to the side. It probably hadn't worked properly in years.
"Veronika," Rosie said. "Every day, you must give yourself a present. Find some pleasure, no matter how small."
Veronika lowered the menu and looked at Rosie directly. "Does it help?"
Rosie smiled. "I find that when I live for and from those moments, it makes everything in between just a smidgen more bearable."
Veronika thought about that for a moment. She thought back to the last time she'd done anything truly nice for herself, when her brain hadn't been occupied with … well, whatever this bizarre thing that was her life had become. It was a weird and unpleasant revelation. It was almost like she'd forgotten how to be a person.
Roxanne came back with a notepad and pen. "So, what can I get for you?"
Veronika tapped the top of the menu. "The cherry pie looks delicious. I'll take that to start."
"Excellent choice." Roxanne took the menu and walked off.
Rosie folded her hands in front of her. "And now a confession from me; I wanted to talk to you about more than breakfast."
Veronika scoffed. "Oh really? I would never have guessed."
"All right, all right," Rosie said, rolling her eyes. "I imagine I'm not as disarming as I'd like to be. It's not easy to know how to approach these things tactfully, but I do at least get points for effort. I want to know why you're here."
Veronika leaned back in her seat. "Honestly, Rosie I'm still trying to figure that one out. Life kind of fell apart recently. Trying to deal with that."
"You wouldn
't be the first lost soul to wander into this town," Rosie said, leaning forwards, shoulders clenched.
Veronika shrugged. "Been thinking about crawling back home or getting the hell off this island. So what do you think I should do?"
"Fifteen years ago, I was in a similar position to you," Rosie said. "I could have left the island then and dumped everything behind. I still can't figure out if I made the right choice or not. I think a lot of people got hurt by my decision, but I can't know what would have happened otherwise so I've gotta live with it."
"So are you saying I should leave?" Veronika raised an eyebrow.
Rosie shook her head. "I'm saying that you can't know what's to happen but, if you ever want to be anywhere besides where you are now, you've got to pick a course and get on it. So the real question, Veronika, is what are you going to do?"
Roxanne brought their food and set each down on plates in front of them. Veronika sighed and dug her fork into the pie. She gave Rosie a playful look. "For now, I'm going to eat this pie you keep raving about."
"And then?"
"I'm gonna do what I came here to do, find some fucking answers."
Rosie beamed. "Excellent. Roxanne, mind going ahead and giving me the bill? I'll be paying for Ms. Veronika's breakfast."
"Will do, Rosie." Roxanne ripped a page out of her notebook and placed it on the table.
Veronika finished chewing on her first bite. "This is a damn fine slice of piece, actually."
Rosie winked. "Told you."
They talked about a few meaningless subjects while they ate. Rosie mainly asked questions about Veronika. They weren't too serious, but the kind a doting mother might ask her daughter, such as what she'd been studying at school and the like. She asked teasingly if there were any boys or girls in her life and it got Veronika thinking briefly about Kara.
Veronika didn't mention her out loud, but she felt a twinge of guilt. She'd said some fairly shitty things to Kara before leaving town. Everything in regards to her feelings about Kara were much like the rest of her life - a tangled, pathetic mess.
"At least take me with you. I care about you a lot and don't want you to get in over your head. My mom was a real bitch. She could have left something nasty behind."
"I'm probably going to do some things that you won't like or understand … you're better off not seeing those parts of me."
"I've seen some sick shit, okay, I think I can handle it. I won't judge you - let me in, all right?"
"Kara, you're cute, but you don't get it."
"No. Save it, I'm not gonna fight you over it. I'm hurt and pissed off. Let me know when you want to drop the lone-wolf antihero nonsense and grow up a little bit."
"Fuck you."
The slamming of doors, wounded pride, and the conversation had ended.
"So there is a girl …" Rosie said after a pause.
"I didn't say that," Veronika groaned.
"The look on your face said everything." Rosie smirked. She stood and grabbed her purse from the table. "Anyway, I don't want to pry any further. Remember what I said, though. It's better that you keep moving forwards, regardless of what you do. It's always better to learn from your mistakes than to stop out of fear of making them."
"Stop," Veronika said with a laugh. "You're starting to sound like a fortune cookie, old lady."
"Don't be a shithead," Rosie said. She didn't look mad, though. "I'll stop by your room later tonight to check on you."
"Thanks, Rosie," Veronika said. "You've been awesome. Don't mind me, I can be a pain in the ass sometimes."
"At least you're honest about it," Rosie said and left, cackling under her breath.
It was hard not to like Rosie. She was well-named and Veronika could see the mirth on Roxanne's voice as the fat little woman paid for their breakfast. Yiggie's warning from earlier felt misplaced and paranoid in comparison to the delightful woman leaving the diner now.
Roxanne approached her after Rosie left. "Is everything all right? Can I get you any more coffee?"
Veronika shook her head. "Everything's fine. Probably going to head out soon anyway. I'm looking up an old family, actually. Do you know anyone who can tell me about the Kiernan family?"
Roxanne bit her lip. She dug her hands into the pocket of her apron and began tapping her thigh. Veronika felt Yiggie hissing in her mind.
"Never got to know them too much, but Bernie over here could tell ya. Right, Bernie?" Roxanne's voice quivered as she spoke.
The man in the heavy brown jacket turned around on his stool. He had the same pale complexion and freckles as the boy last night from the gas station. His hands were large and covered in thick orange hair. He smiled warmly at her and tipped his hat.
"That's a name I haven't heard in a while," he said. "There hasn't been a Kiernan in this town for over ten years. Why the interest?"
"Looking into some things for a friend," Veronika said. "Can you help me out?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment and pursed his lips. "I don't suppose there would be any harm in checking out the old barn. Here, let me write down some directions so you don't get lost. Nobody's been out there in a long time."
"What happened? Did they leave town?" Veronika asked.
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't know? They killed themselves."
Roxanne snapped him an angry look. "All right, Bernie. Finish your coffee and head on out of my diner with that kind of talk. Sorry, hon, Bernie has a fresh way about him; doesn't know when to hold his tongue."
Bernie shrugged his shoulders, left a wad of cash on the counter and stood. "Don't get snippy at me, Roxie. She asked. I answered."
"I'm all right," Veronika said. "Please, I'd like to know what happened."
Roxanne shook her head. "Not. In. My. Diner."
Bernie gestured his head towards the door. "How about you walk with me for a minute and I'll tell you about as far as I know."
Veronika nodded, and thanked Roxanne for the coffee. The sound of ringing bells on the door signaled his departure. She went to grab her coat from the booth and noticed the old woman with the doll staring at her. Rosie had called her Maggie, and she was covering the doll's plastic-button eyes with her hands. The scowl hadn't left her face, but Veronika thought she could see panic set in her gaze.
"Don't go," Maggie whispered in a gravelly voice. "Keep away from the cornfields."
The warning did nothing to frighten or give her any sense of unease - if anything, her encounter at Room 102 last night had already accomplished that - rather, it increased her resolve. Veronika set her mouth in a tight line and gave the woman a determined nod. "I have to. I need this," she said.
Maggie lowered her head solemnly and turned away. Her mouth tightened and she buried her face in the doll. Her shoulder heaved as she let out little quiet sobs. Roxanne began clearing Veronika's table, seeming to purposefully ignore the little old woman crying quietly to herself in the back corner of the diner.
Veronika hurriedly left the strange and sad sight to follow Bernie from the diner. He was waiting by his truck in the parking lot, a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. Upon seeing her approach, he extinguished the cigarette in his palm and stamped it beneath his boot.
"Sorry about that," he said. "Didn't know how long you'd be; Maggie looked determined to have a word with you."
"She did," Veronika said. "Though don't worry about smoking in front of me, I'm fine with it."
"Not polite to smoke in front of a lady." Bernie winked. "Anyway, Maggie have something good to say to you?"
"She didn't want me going to the cornfields." Veronika shrugged. "Did something happen there that upset her? She's crying now. I feel bad."
Bernie turned towards the diner, eyes troubled. "God damn it, Maggie. And I couldn't tell ya that if I wanted. A lot of things upset that poor woman. I think she may have had a hard life, but she won't open up to anyone about it. This isn't the first time she's sat in the back of that diner and cried.
"Still, a lot of us
around here owe something to Maggie. When she speaks, you'd be smart to listen."
Veronika folded her arms across her chest. "You said you were going to tell me about the Kiernan place?"
Bernie rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Yeah, I can. I don't know too much though, I was just a kid then. There was Barry, his wife Sue, and they had three kids. There was Eileen the youngest, then the twins Henry and Orwell. They'd come into the store a lot on the weekends. Barry was real big about getting every one of his kids ice cream, and I was kind of sweet on Eileen in that time. So, I'd always make sure to be volunteering at pop's store when they came in.
"Well … one day, they stopped coming around. I waited, and I waited. Then there was nothing. After about a month, we sent a search party. The cops found Eileen hiding in a cupboard, looking terrified out of her mind. Barry and Sue had hung themselves from the rafters in the barn. Henry had shot himself in the toolshed. Orwell looked like he'd impaled himself with a pitchfork on purpose. It was like some bizarre family suicide pact.
"Eileen never talked about the incident. She refused to answer any questions, would fly into a screaming tantrum. Likely traumatized by the whole thing. Last I heard, she went into foster care."
Veronika closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let out one word. "Shit."
"You all right?"
"Yes?" It was a question she asked herself more than anything. "Just … reminds me a lot of an old ghost story back in Wakefield. Similar circumstances. Much longer ago. Family owns a farm. They disappear for a long time. People later find them murdered."
"Stories got a way of repeating themselves on this island," Bernie said. "Sure you still want to head out there?"
"Yeah."
"All right, well, I'll be out at the gas station if you need anything. You know the place?"
"Big Harv's, right? I stopped by there on my way into town, last night. Is Donovan your kid? You look alike."
Bernie chuckled. "Yeah. He didn't do anything to bother you did he? He has a certain awkwardness to him. I've tried to beat him into shape over the years, but nothing I do seems to help."