The Possession

by Spikes J. D.

  Chantal apparently believed him. She turned sideways, posing in profile for Zach’s benefit, and placed a hand on Gary’s shoulder. “C’mon, Gary,” she wrinkled her nose, “let’s go someplace cleaner.”

  She sashayed away, Gary in tow. We watched until they were a decent length down the beach. Zach kept me by his side, preferring not to turn his back on them. “You okay?”

  I nodded, my eyes slanting toward the gruesome twosome. “Let’s just go.”

  “We don’t have to let them chase us off.”

  I smiled up at him. “I know. But I’m ready to go, anyway,” and I kissed him. His arms came around me and I wrapped my arms about his neck. “Thanks. For protecting me and all.”

  He kissed my ear and let me go. “Okay. They’ve seen enough. Let’s get out of here.”

  I went to put his shirt on, then changed my mind. I was not going to let those two dictate my life. I stuffed the shirt into my bag and donned the chiffon cover-up.

  “Hey, if you’re going to keep my shirt, you have to wear it,” Zach said, but his eyes were busy admiring.

  “I will.” I tried the seductive smile and husky voice Chantal liked to use and, stepping out of their line of vision behind the nearest rock, posed in profile for him. “Later.”

  Zach rolled his eyes. “You’re killing me.” But his expression said kill wasn’t really the right word. “Want to get something to eat?”

  “Sure.”

  We packed up our things, hoisted our bags to our shoulders, and started home.

  Zach draped his arm around my shoulders as we closed in on Gary and Chantal, and I slipped mine around his waist. We made sure we stayed at the tide line, a wide berth from their blanket, until we had to cross to the path.

  Their eyes burned a hole in our backs all the way.

  We stopped at the cemetery, but Zach wouldn’t stay. “Not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Can’t you feel it?”

  “Feel what?”

  “We need to get some clothes on you.”

  “So you like the feel of chiffon, do you?”

  “I like the feel of you.”

  I brought my hands up, palm out in front of me to ward him off. “Okay. Okay. I’ll stop teasing you.”

  He nodded with a grin then his eyes narrowed. “But seriously, Daph, can you feel it? It doesn’t seem right today.”

  “I thought it felt strange when I stopped on my way to the beach. Like someone was watching me or something. But it stopped when I left the cemetery.”

  He mulled this over. “Let’s go to the library.”

  “The library? Why? To see if we can find another sketch of the cemetery, or the grounds?”

  “No, because Mrs. Rice is working the desk tonight and she’s also with the historical society. She might cut our search time in half.”

  “And you’ve known this how long?”

  “Handful.” He bumped my shoulder.

  “Impossible.” I bumped back.

  We left the cemetery and Zach turned toward the lighthouse with me.

  “You don’t have to walk me home, Zach. I’ll be okay.”

  “I won’t. Not if I don’t see you safely to your door.”

  I took his hand. “You’re sweet.”

  He lifted his eyebrows at me, but he smiled. We reached the lighthouse lawn and he did indeed walk me all the way to the door.

  “I’ll be back in an hour. Dinner and the library?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll borrow Kiju’s car.”

  “Okay. If you can’t, let me know. I’ll take Aunt’s car.”

  He studied me, his expression turned serious. “Don’t leave here or open the door if your aunt isn’t home.”

  I frowned.

  “For me?”

  “Sure.”

  He kissed me lightly and strode away.

  Someone walked over my grave.

  Chapter 22

  Aunt Dwill snuck up on me. Well, she didn’t really, but I was so engrossed in my vigil at the window that I didn’t hear her until she was in the room and I was caught.

  Thankfully, she didn’t laugh. Instead she folded the newspaper I’d left open on the coffee table and asked, “Want me to braid your hair? It’s awful warm out there tonight.”

  “Hmmm?” I asked. “Oh, sure. Thanks.” But my eyes remained on the drive.

  “Daphne?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You have to come here and sit if you want me to braid.”

  I let the curtain sheer fall closed and turned a sheepish face in her direction. “Sorry.”

  Normally, I would just drop to the floor in front of the sofa and Aunt would braid away, but I didn’t want to mess my clothes, so I perched on the ottoman and Aunt took the wingback chair behind me. She admired my outfit.

  “I like that top. Wow, funny how all the old clothes are coming back again. That camisole looks like something I would have worn in my day. I love the beading. I’d have to have it.” Her voice held a smile.

  “It’s a cami, Aunt,” I explained. “You don’t say camisole. That’s old fashioned. But I know what you mean. That’s how I felt when I saw it in the store the other day.”

  To be honest, I saw it, then I saw Zach seeing me in it. That’s what sold me.

  The fitted crocheted khaki-colored top had a rawhide tie that ran along the top hem then crisscrossed down the center, tying off at the waist. The tight weave ended just below the breast, giving way to a looser weave though the silk lining ran to the waist. The crocheted part continued on a few inches below. From the base of the spaghetti straps, turquoise and sandstone beads made a circular design along the scoop of the neck.

  Aunt actually leaned around the side of my head to see my face. “Since when are you such a clothes hound?”

  Ah, crimson had returned. I waited until the heat receded from my face, inconspicuously tucking my feet back against the ottoman. If she saw the heeled sandals peeking out from the flare of my jeans, I’d never hear the end of it. “I like clothes. I just . . .”

  Mercifully, she chose to switch the subject.

  “Zach’s a good-looking guy.”

  I’d prefer to go back to clothes and my lack of affection for it. Too late, though.

  “He’s a couple of years older than you, right?”

  “Not really. I just turned seventeen and he won’t be eighteen until the fall.”

  “Hmmm. The fall. He’ll be going off to college.”

  “I’ll be going home before that.”

  She tied off the French braid. Her hands rested on my shoulders.

  Uh-oh. Wrong answer.

  “You know, Daphne, when you’re young, everything feels so big and seems so final.”

  I tilted my head just a bit, enough for her to know I was listening but not enough for her to see my face.

  She ran her hand over my braid then patted my shoulders. “Look at me, honey.”

  Honey. That’s the serious talk name, just like sweetie is for sickness.

  I took my time making my swing around to face her, hoping Zach would ring the bell and intervene. No such luck. And she spotted the shoes.

  “The first time you really, really connect with someone, Daphne, no matter what your age, it’s . . . well . . . it can be overwhelming. Everything is new and exciting and so . . . urgent. I’m not so old I don’t remember what it can feel like. And sometimes, when feelings hit both of you that strongly, it can take you further than you really want to go.”

  “We aren’t sleeping together, Aunt.”

  I do believe I made her blush. She was quick to recover. She also looked relieved. “Oh, honey. I’m not saying you are.”

  She took my hands into hers and studied them, gathering her thoughts or, more likely, her words for them. “I just . . . I’m sure it’s more than tempting. That’s normal, it’s natural.”

  Aunt dropped my hands and poked escaping hair back into her scrunchie as she leaned back in her chair. �
��I think you’re too young, Daphne. But in the end, what I think isn’t really going to matter. Just promise me you won’t make any decisions based purely on the fact that you have to leave soon. That’s not a good criteria.”

  She leaned forward again and gripped my chin with affection. “You know you can come see me anytime you want. Even if you aren’t really coming to see me. And if what you feel is the real deal, it’s not going to die because you spend time apart. Not having sex won’t kill it, either.”

  I nodded, all wise and grown-up-like. Then I threw my arms around her and we hugged tight.

  The doorbell rang and we rose.

  “Should I get that and bring him in? Or do you just want to leave?”

  For some reason panic hit me. I felt my face freeze, eyes wide. I must have looked pretty pathetic, because Aunt made me sit down again. “Look up the comedy special for me, will you? I’ll get the door.”

  I grabbed the newspaper and pulled out the television section as the outside door opened.

  “Hi, Zach. Daphne’s in the front room.”

  I buried my face in the paper. The fact that I couldn’t hear his response told me he was nervous, too. Aunt’s whispered voice soothed.

  Like a mom.

  I dropped the paper to my lap and anger flashed through my chest. It really wasn’t fair that both Aunt and Zach had been denied that opportunity.

  They arrived in the doorway. I folded the paper with deliberate calm and stood. “Hi, Zach.”

  “Hi.”

  His hair was pulled back. He wore a teal striped button-down shirt. He had shoes on, not sneakers, and even with my heels, he was still taller than me.

  “You kids want something before you go, or are you taking off now?” Aunt asked, keeping her place between the double doors.

  “We have to get to the library before it closes,” Zach answered. “We should probably leave now.”

  “The library?”

  “Yeah. Oh, we’re going to the library, Aunt, then to get a bite to eat.” I looked to Zach, who nodded his head in agreement.

  “Well.” I saw the bend of her head to hide her smile. “Have fun. Don’t be too late.”

  “We won’t, Eddie.”

  Aunt nodded, a lingering look at me, then headed up the hall. “Make sure you lock the door on your way out, Daph.”

  At the car, Zach opened the door for me. Once behind the wheel, he put the key into the ignition but did not turn it. Instead, he looked at me from the safety of the other side of the car.

  I took a deep breath. “We aren’t going to get all weird on each other, are we? I mean,” I swallowed, took a couple more breaths for good measure, “I like things the way they are. I don’t want to be nervous around you.”

  I whipped my head away from him, my eyes fastening on the door handle. Did I actually just say that?

  His hand slid down my forearm then covered mine. “I don’t want us to be nervous, either.” He tugged my hand. “I like us, too.”

  My head turned slowly in his direction. When our eyes locked, he chased my fear away with his smile. “Nothing will change that.”

  I met him halfway. Our lips connected, hearts joined, and a throbbing pulse overtook my worry. We almost got lost in it. I pressed the side of my face to his. “We’ll figure this out. Won’t we?”

  He ran his hand over my cheek, across my neck, and down my braid. “We’ll figure it out.”

  We separated, snapped in our seatbelts, and headed toward town.

  The tiny, white-haired Mrs. Rice was gracious. “Oh, I might have just what you need. Can you come back at closing? Eight o’clock? We can go around the corner to the Historical Society headquarters. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Zach and I conferred, then thanked her. “We can do that. Thanks. We’ll be back at eight.”

  It was six o’clock.

  “Where should we go to eat?” I asked as we headed down the library stairs.

  “Waves?”

  Tim E.’s Waves was a relatively new place, but all the kids had already adopted it as their own. It had sort of a beach shack/concession stand atmosphere with awesome music in the jukebox. Burgers, fries, pizza, and clam cakes were the popular menu items. Everyone went there.

  “Sounds good.”

  The waitress gave us a horseshoe booth distant enough from the jukebox that we could hear each other talk without yelling. We’d barely had time to start a conversation, though, when a group of four descended on our table.

  They split into twos and surrounded us.

  I recognized Roselea, and the blond kid Jake, who hung out with Chantal. Zach seemed to know the other guy. The dark-haired girl was a mystery.

  “Hey, Zach,” Roselea slid in beside him and grabbed Zach by the arm, “make room. We’re joining you.”

  Zach crinkled his brow and removed her hand. He’d gripped my hand beneath the table and squeezed reassurance, but his eyes were fastened on Jake.

  Jake had entered my side of the booth and now sat beside me, the dark-haired girl on his other side. I moved as close to Zach as I could without climbing into his lap. He started to speak, but Roselea cut him off.

  “Zach, you know Mickey. Jake.” She pointed to the dark-haired girl. “And that’s Jake’s girl, Emma. Guys, this is Zach’s girl, Daphne.”

  But she wasn’t looking at me. She was watching Zach. To see his reaction to her introduction, no doubt. Zach ignored her, exchanging greetings and acknowledging the introduction to Emma. He turned to me. “Mickey’s a friend, from the Barrens.”

  I nodded to let him know I understood we’d have to ride this out. The waitress hurried over, but we assured her it was okay that they stayed. We decided we’d each pick a menu item and share.

  She took our order. As soon as she left the table, Jake leaned forward earnestly. Zach frowned and Jake looked to me. He got the message that he was too close and angled away.

  “Look, man, I’m really sorry about what happened,” his gaze darted to me again, “at the library. I told Gary he was a real shit.”

  “Yeah, that was cold,” Mickey chimed in.

  I felt heat break out across my chest and start to rise up my neck, but my hands grew cold and clammy. Zach pressed his thigh to mine.

  “Jake would never be in on something like that,” Emma added, and rubbed Jake’s arm. “He wouldn’t.”

  Roselea piped up, “I do know Jake wasn’t involved.” She looked first at Zach, then at me. “He was up to Bar Harbor that day.”

  Zach broke his silence, his tone final. “I know.”

  I think each of us at that table understood—Zach had done his homework. He knew exactly who had been in on it. And he didn’t want it discussed any further. Jake leaned back and Emma slumped against him in relief.

  “So who wants to pump some change into the juke?” Roselea raised her eyebrows at each of us, resetting the stage. When Jake and Emma had collected everyone’s quarters and requests and walked away, Roselea caught my attention with a tap to the arm.

  I eyed her. She waved me close. We leaned toward each other over the table. I braced myself.

  “I just want you to know, Daphne. I’m sorry, too.”

  Her eyes held sincerity. I nodded acceptance; that unexpected bonus should not be brushed aside.

  We actually had fun with them and the time flew. Before we knew it, eight o’clock was almost on us. We excused ourselves, Zach gave them our share of the bill, and we left.

  Mrs. Rice waited in her car at the library curb. We followed her around the corner and entered the Historical Society. The low watt of the foyer bulb lent an eerie glow to the polished wood floor. She hurried past the first door on the left and flipped a switch in what looked like a small cubby.

  The room to our right lit up.

  We were greeted by a six-foot by six-foot reproduction of the layout of the lighthouse and its property as drawn in ink on parchment in 1799, in tandem with a twentieth century aerial view photograph. The photo had been taken during
the winter months, providing a maximum view with so many of the trees bare of their leaves.

  “Wow.”

  “No help though, Daph. We can’t carry that home to study it.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Rice peeped like a happy chick. “I have this. You can borrow it, as long as I have it back by the weekend.” She gazed at us solemnly. “And you promise to take good care of it.”

  “Yes. Of course,” we agreed.

  She unlocked a glass case by the doorway and removed a thin volume. “Here. It’s a bound, mimeographed reproduction of the original, but it’s still quite old.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Rice!”

  “Thank you.”

  We pumped her hand until it nearly fell off. I looked again at the title.

  Bay Head Light, Property and Buildings.

  A sudden rumble caught our attention. Light flashed through the windows.

  A storm brewed.

  Chapter 23

  The storm raged in high gear by the time we reached the lighthouse road. We splashed through deep puddles, noses almost to the windshield to keep on the road. Ruts caused us to pull our faces back to avoid smacking the glass. Tension was palpable.

  Every streak of lightning brought my eyes to the tree line, worried that one would soon crash down upon us.

  “Drive, Zach. Just drive,” I reassured, letting him know I kept vigil. I did not want to stop and get stuck out here in the elements.

  We made it to the keep. Zach pulled up alongside the porch, garage side, and we ran up the stairs. I opened the door and Rowdy dashed out past us and disappeared around the corner.

  “Rowdy!”

  I looked at Zach. “Get Aunt. Meet me out back. We can’t leave him out here.”

  Zach grabbed my arm. “Let’s go through the house to the connecting buildings. You can get Eddie. I’ll head for Rowdy.”

  The wind blew a squall into my face.

  “Okay.” I nodded, not sure he’d heard.

  “Daphne! The door’s locked.”