Wrong Turn

by Catie Rhodes

  I steeled myself, climbed the leaning steps, and picked my way across the porch, mindful of dry-rotted boards. The front door swung open on its own, letting out a stale cloud of pent-up heat. Chest tight, heart hammering, I walked inside.

  Dust motes floated over the narrow, empty living room. I opened my second sight and looked around. Nothing here. But the black opal heated on my chest, pulsing, and Orev cawed outside. A board creaked overhead.

  "Up here, witchy-witch." The sing-songy voice came from both inside and outside my head.

  Loretta Nell Grimes? Only one way to find out.

  I picked my way across carpet so dust covered I couldn’t even tell what color it had been. The narrow staircase climbed one side of the room, going straight up the wall. Climbing these stairs could end with me lying in a pile of broken boards with a rusty nail sticking out of my eye, but the spirit was upstairs. I needed to make contact if I wanted to find the book. The black opal pulsed again, as though in agreement.

  4

  I slung the stang in its padded case over my shoulder to free up one hand. Gripping the shaky banister with all my strength, I took the first step. The wood groaned but held me. Body tensed, ready to fall, I took the next step. And the next.

  By the time I reached the landing, sweat covered my body, and I trembled all over, breath coming in gasps. Climbing with fear of falling hurt more than pushing a lawn mower all day. I longed for a cigarette but didn’t dare light up in this old tinderbox.

  "Come," the voice whispered all around me.

  The black opal gave one long pulse. With the hair on the back of my neck burred out like a dog’s hackles, I tiptoed down the hallway. The door at the end slowly swung open, the hinges squealing like the pig-faced guy when I hit him with my truck. I swallowed hard and forced myself to keep going.

  The room at the end of the hall was where I’d seen the shadow pass across the windows. I crept inside. The air stunk like death and chilled my skin despite the end-of-day heat.

  The room held a bed pushed against the far wall with a dusty comforter bunched up. The nightstand hung open where it had been rifled either by thieves or thrill-seeking jerks. The room’s air shimmered with dark energy. The mantle uncoiled inside me like a snake seeking sun, ready to fight, and Orev cawed outside. The supernatural was with me, in me, all around me, but I still couldn’t see the ghost.

  "Got you," whispered a female voice, right next to my ear.

  The temperature dropped from a little chilly to cold enough for my breath to puff out in front of me. She was here. I readied my energy to fight a spirit, but the seconds ticked past with no more activity. My shoulders relaxed, and I took a more careful look around the room.

  The way the comforter lay on the bed made it look like someone was underneath it. Creepy. I couldn’t quit looking at it. The fabric rustled. A puff of dust dotted the dying daylight. The comforter rose, the fabric draping over a human shape. My breath caught in my throat. Terror began to uncoil in my stomach. Then I caught myself.

  Spirits did stuff like this to scare the living. It was a great trick, and it probably scared the poopy-poo out of ghost hunters. But I wasn’t one of those. I was Peri Jean Mace, psychic medium and witch. A woman of power. This spirit was the one who’d better watch out. I drew myself to my full height of five-feet-nothing.

  "Loretta Nell?" My voice trembled. What the hell? I cleared my throat. "I just want to talk."

  The comforter flew off the bed, trailing dust, and came right for my face.

  I didn’t have time to yell, to move, to do anything before it wrapped around me in a musty cocoon. A surprised scream escaped me. I sucked in a lungful of musty fabric odor and began to cough. The supplies I’d so carefully collected to summon Loretta Nell dropped to the floor in a heavy crash.

  I staggered sightless around the room, knocking into furniture and walls, trying to pull the comforter away. My thoughts fractured into terrified blocks of information. Can’t see. Can’t breathe. Fear fluttered in my midsection like a trapped bird. Something moved against my legs.

  I stopped in my tracks. What was that?

  The comforter shifted against my torso. I held my breath, heart thundering in my chest. A woman’s high-pitched laugher tinkled in my ear. My throat closed, its dry sides grinding against each other. Something was inside the comforter with me.

  Wild terror eclipsed any rational thought, and I screamed.

  Icy fingers scrabbled over my face, fingernails scratching and tearing. Stinking breath, straight from the grave, filled my nostrils. Panic ripped through me. I grabbed fistfuls of comforter and pulled as hard as I could. It wouldn’t budge.

  My horror, fully unspooled, spread thorny vines through my bloodstream. Stay calm. Stay calm. Mysti always chanted those words when things got out of control. I whispered them to make them seem more real. "Stay calm. Stay calm. There is a way out of this."

  The specter writhed harder against me, its frantic whispers filling my head. “Mine now. Mine now. All mine.”

  Images of gnashing teeth and spurting blood flashed behind my eyes followed by a shaking image of people kneeling before a crude effigy of a snake that looked to be made of human intestines.

  My sanity broke like a glass shattering on the floor, bits spraying in every direction. I drew in a dusty breath and screamed. Fight or flight kicked in. I took a few running steps, tripped, and pitched forward. My shoulder clipped something, probably a wall, and then there was nothing.

  No. The window. I’m falling out the window. I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn’t come.

  Orev’s caws came, along with the sound of his wings flapping. He hit me, flying against the force of my fall. Then there were more birds. The harsh caw of crows joined Orev’s throaty croak. They pushed me back into the room.

  Orev stayed with me, cawing, pulling at the ghost until it detached from me. The nasty comforter crumpled to the floor.

  The ghost flew away from Orev and flashed around the corners of the room, running so fast my eyes couldn’t track it. I opened my second sight.

  That gave me a clearer image of the spirit. A young woman with a puff of cottony blond hair flitted around the room, disappearing, then appearing again. Loretta Nell would have been pretty had it not been for the expression on her freckled face. It was wild, pure vicious animal.

  Normally, I’d try to calm a ghost before attempting to communicate. Instinct told me there was no point this time. I had enough power to force Loretta Nell to talk to me. It felt disrespectful as hell to do that, but she’d tried to kill me. To hell with being nice.

  I got a bundle of sage out of my witch pack and used my cigarette lighter to get it started. Waving it around my body, the same way I’d do with soap in a shower, I cleansed her negative taint off my person. My fear and panic floated away with each inhale of the heady smoke.

  Under my breath, I chanted, "All negative feelings, all negative impulses, get thee out of me," over and over until I felt them go. Then I shook my hands to rid myself of the last of it.

  Good thing I’d brought the supplies to make a strong circle. It would have been too risky to communicate with Loretta Nell otherwise. Her violent death and evil, hate-filled life had left behind a murderous force. She’d tried to drive me out the window to my death. I remembered the blotches on the ground outside and shivered. Had she done the same to others?

  Sacrifices. That’s how she keeps the power.

  Thinking I understood what was going on calmed me. I took a few cleansing breaths and centered myself. The time had come for Loretta Nell to go on to her reward. I reached for the mantle. We’d talk, and then I’d send her packing. Let the entities in the dark outposts have her.

  I zipped open the padded case and pulled out my shroud-wrapped stang. The power of the wood vibrated through my arm and pinged when it touched the black opal. The mantle zipped toward this new power, thrumming through my hand and into my fingertips.

  The two magics touched. A flare of light flashed
and rippled through the air around me. It whooshed against my skin like the percussion at a heavy metal concert.

  Loretta materialized in one corner. She fixed her blazing, insane eyes on me and hissed, teeth bared. They were stained red with blood. My stomach crawled at the sight of her, threatening to expel my monkey burger. I forced my mind back on task. Set up the contact.

  My pot of grave dirt had turned over and spilled on the nasty carpet, but there was still enough left to do what I needed. I righted the pot and pulled it near my feet.

  Holding the stang in one hand, I leaned my head back and imagined a dome of light surrounding me. I made it the brightest possible light, so bright the idea of it hurt my eyes and burned against my face like summer sun.

  The musty smell went away, replaced with the smell of warm grass and healthy fertile soil. Somewhere nearby, birds chirped.

  I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the clean air, and called the corners.

  "I call to the power of North

  I call to the power of East,

  I call to the power of South,

  I call to the power of West

  Join me."

  Around me, the points of the compass fell into place with a flash of power. The golden bubble surrounding me grew with them and strengthened.

  "I call to the power above

  And to the power below."

  The dome lengthened into a sphere and clicked closed. Now it was time to call the elements. I centered my concentration and let the mantle flow throughout, its power dizzying.

  "I call to the element of water." Humidity settled over my skin, and the sound of a brook babbling reached my ears.

  "I call to the element of air." A soft, warm wind filled my circle, chasing away the last of the cold and leaving behind the smell of sunshine and flowers.

  "I call to the element of earth." The wood in the house’s walls, in its floors, sang to life. A low hum filled my head as it spoke to me.

  "And I call the element of fire." A blast of flint filled my nostrils, but fire was also my power. The mantle opened like a ripe flower, filling me to bursting and dancing with anticipation.

  I drove the stang into the grave dirt. The circle clanged like a bell being rung. The air around it rippled. A blast of heavy air hit me, moving through my hair and my eyelashes.

  Now I was as safe as I could be while dealing with something as repugnant as Loretta Nell.

  I dug in my witch pack and found my offering bowls. Into one, I poured olive oil. Into the other, I dumped a little cherry-scented pipe tobacco. I knew so little about Loretta Nell that I could only guess what appealed to her.

  I took out the picture of Loretta Nell, studied the crafty smile curving her lips, memorized the way her arm rested over the huge book she held pressed to her chest.

  Then I put my hand on the stang and called her. I’d pull Loretta Nell’s spirit through the stang so that I had power over her. This would prevent her from hurting me, which she’d already proven she wanted to do.

  "Loretta Nell Grimes." My voice came out guttural and deep, as it often did when I communed with the spirit world. "I call your spirit. Accept these offerings, and answer my questions."

  The floor beneath my feet rumbled. My body tensed, but I pushed away the distraction. I couldn’t freak myself out. If I did, I’d lose control of this situation.

  "Loretta Nell Grimes." The name came out in a growl. "Come. Let us visit. Accept your offerings."

  The stang heated underneath my hand and then cooled. Magic rumbled through it and flowed into my body. She was with me.

  The tobacco began to smoke. Tiny red embers glowed within it. Then a puff of smoke whooshed out as though someone had inhaled and exhaled. It went from brown and moist to gray ash in a second. The oil simmered, rippling and moving, and then boiled down to nothing.

  "Loretta Nell, I understand you’ve been through an ordeal. Show me where the book in this picture is, and I’ll help you feel better." I held out the picture to make sure she saw it.

  The photo fluttered between my fingers. Good. She knew what I meant. Sometimes older spirits no longer understood living ideas.

  "Take me to the book in the picture, Loretta Nell." I couldn’t ask her. I had to sound in control, confident and sure what I wanted her to do.

  Loretta Nell manifested, clearer than ever. She wore the same geometric patterned dress from the photo. Dirt blackened her bare feet. The musk of her body odor filled my nose. She cocked her head at me, the way a dog does when a human speaks to it. Finally she nodded. She understood. I let a little relief seep into my muscles.

  "I’ll show you." With one thin, graceful hand, she motioned me to follow.

  The beauty of making a circle with the stang in the pot of grave dirt was that I could take it with me wherever I went. I picked up the pot and followed Loretta Nell.

  Loretta Nell’s form floated in front of me, a small gap between her feet and the floor. She led me down the staircase and out the front door. It swung closed behind us with a click that hit me as ominous and final.

  We crossed the yard and went through the warped gate I’d left standing open. Dry, dead grass crunched beneath my feet. Because I was using my magic, the smell of its nutrients filled my nose. The flow of its energy joined mine.

  Loretta Nell led me to the barn. Its huge sliding door yawned open, a maw of blackness waiting inside to swallow us up. Had the door been open when I first saw the barn? I couldn’t remember. But I knew one thing. I wasn’t going into that darkness with no light. I stopped walking and dug in my pocket. My keychain had a tiny light that wasn’t much good for anything except desperation.

  Just a little bit more. I’ll have the book. I can be done with this whole thing. I can go find Tanner, see if I can salvage our relationship. The inner pep talk bolstered my cringing nerves. I thumbed the keychain light and walked into the darkness, mind full of rattlesnakes, spiders, and other stinging dirt monsters.

  Shock molded me to a spot right inside the doorway. I’d expected dark emptiness with a tiny cone of light around me. But inside the barn, a warm, moving light, like that of fire, danced. The walls wavered dimly in the flickering light. Sprays of blood covered them. Bodies hung from the walls.

  A dark shadow slanted over the bodies. The shadow gathered light, which first defined a head and shoulders. A flickering image of Loretta Nell came together in front of the wall. She stood erect, chin high, like an artist before her work. Maybe that’s what it was to her.

  "Why are you here?" She fixed me with emotionless eyes the blue of storm clouds.

  We’d been over this, but I answered anyway.

  "The book in this picture." I took it out again and held it up.

  "You can’t have it. The Serpent God charged me with the duty of spreading his word." Loretta Nell waved one hand at the bodies behind her. As though she’d pulled a switch, their stomachs opened, and ropes of intestines fell to swing between their legs.

  Bile stung the back of my throat. I took deep breaths until I was sure I wouldn’t spew monkey burger lava all over my magic circle. My stomach settled.

  "The Serpent God has sent me to retrieve the book. He demands you release it." I let the mantle give my words a little magical push. Some spirits needed a little convincing.

  Loretta Nell’s blue eyes darkened with fury. Her cute face contorted. "No! The Serpent God wants me to have the book. I am his favorite daughter."

  I took a more careful look at Loretta Nell. Was she the child of Mohawk? I opened my third eye and looked for the taint of otherworldliness on her but only saw an angry, dead human.

  "Loretta Nell, you can move on from this. Whatever happened in your earthly life is done. There’s more." I raised one arm and pointed at the wall. A bright light opened and grew. "I can send you there. You can heal and find peace."

  "Noooooo! My job is to arrange cleansings." She waved her hand again.

  I flinched, expecting further mutilation of the corpses behind her.
Instead, the world around me faded.

  Loretta Nell stands in front of a room full of young adults. On the walls are pictures of Jesus Christ on the cross, of Daniel in the lion’s den. It hits me that she’s in a church.

  "What is that slut up to now?" The words come with a tickle of hot breath against my ear.

  I turn and find myself face to face with a teenage girl. She wears cat-eye glasses with black frames etched with white flowers. Dancing hazel eyes meet mine, and she claps one hand to her mouth and giggles through her nose.

  Mind reeling, I force a smile to my face. Do I know this chick?

  Nerdy brown pigtails and a pretty, oval-shaped face. No. I don’t know her. Then why is she talking to me? She must think I’m someone else.

  I glance down to see a powder blue double-knit skirt covering my lap. The outdated fabric stops well above my knees to show off suntan-colored pantyhose. Matching vinyl shoes with a hideous brass buckle adorn my feet. Ick.

  I look around the room. More double-knit polyester. More butt-ugly colors. Button-up collars and shaggy hair for the boys.

  They all look ready to go home and watch Janis Joplin, who isn’t dead yet, on the Dick Cavett Show. And I’m one of them. Cold fingers walk up my back.

  Am I me, Peri Jean Mace? Surely not. This girl beside me wouldn’t be giggling with a thirty-something woman. I grab the tooled leather purse sitting next to me and rummage through, fingers stumbling over a plastic makeup compact. I open it and stare at an unfamiliar heart-shaped face. The girl has pretty brown eyes, fair skin, and brown hair with a widow’s peak. Definitely not me.

  Loretta Nell clears her throat at the front of the room. "I know all y’all probably wonder why I—the bad girl of Fairview Baptist Church…"

  "She’s not a bad girl. Just a slut." The girl next to me giggles, but so do a lot of other kids.

  I want to tell them all to shut up. Loretta Nell brought me back to the time of I Dream of Jeanie and bell-bottoms to show me something. The sooner I see it, the sooner I can get out of this unfamiliar body.