by Jen Jensen
Her mother tried to steady herself against the doorframe. “Emma, I can’t believe you’d do this to your family.”
“What? Make myself happy? I’m the picture of selfishness, aren’t I, Mom?”
“I don’t even know you anymore,” her mother said, crying.
“You’ve never known me. Go on now, get out. Come back when you’re ready to start getting to know me.” Emma put on jeans and a blouse. She took the blouse off with fluster and grabbed a bra from the dresser. She turned away from her mom to put it on and then put the blouse back on.
“You’re kicking me out?”
Emma paused and tipped her head. “I guess I am. I’ve said everything I wanted to say. For now, at least.” She held perfectly still, holding her mother’s gaze.
“You’ll regret this, Emma.”
“I regret plenty, Mom, but this won’t be one of those things.” She heard her mom leave, the door to the outside echoing behind her, and wondered if she shouldn’t be more upset. She searched her emotions, wondering if concern for her mother was hidden somewhere, but found nothing. She dressed quickly and went to check on the kids.
Sam and Johnna were together and she smiled at them. “Grandma seems a bit mad,” Sam said.
“So it goes,” Emma said.
“You and Dad getting a divorce?”
“I think so,” Emma said. “We’ll be okay. I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Does he know yet?” Emma shook her head. “When are you going to tell him?”
“Soon.” Emma left, leaving Johnna and Sam in silence.
Sam leaped off the bed and ran into the hallway. “Hey, Mom.”
Emma turned. “Yes?”
“Good for you,” Sam said
“Thank you, Sam.” Emma came back and hugged him, kissed his forehead, and turned away again.
“Go, Mom. Really, she’s cracking up. But it’s cool.” Johnna looked at him, her expression serious. “This is going to get interesting.” He paused a moment. “We’re staying with her, right?” Johnna’s look was incredulous. “I just wanted to check. You’re the boss.”
Emma moved into the kitchen, pulling pots and pans out for breakfast. She busied her hands, whipping eggs, buttering toast, and called for her kids. Johnna and Sam looked at each other, but not at her. Jacob still slept, and she let him. At the table, she took a bite of food, starving. “I don’t want this to be hard on you kids, but your dad will try to take you.”
“We won’t go,” Sam said.
“You may not have a choice.”
“He can take me, but I won’t stay,” Johnna said.
“I go where she goes,” Sam said.
“I’m sorry you overheard that conversation with your grandma. She and I will make up and be fine. Eventually. It’s not how I would have planned to tell you.” Emma took a bite.
“I don’t really like Dad.” Sam lifted more pancakes to his plate.
“Sam,” Emma said.
“What? I don’t. He thinks I’m too tiny.”
“I don’t know why all of this is happening now, but it is. I promise to keep us together, okay?” Sam and Johnna nodded earnestly. “Always. You’re stuck with me. I’m never going to let you go.” She smiled and felt the burden of love roll from her stomach to her chest. Once again, she was struck with urgency. There was so much to do, and she was running out of time. She willed her inner emotions to slow. She would call Carmen after she cleaned up breakfast to tell her she planned to see her every day, from that moment forward.
Then she would call Stephen and tell him she was filing for divorce. She would stay with Carmen, if necessary, assuming she’d want her to, because Stephen would race home as soon as she called. She mapped the timeline silently in her head as she watched her twins eat and wiped a tear from her eye.
Life was meant for the present, not the unknown space after death assigned as heaven or hell. It was just this, and she felt the weight of it on her shoulders. If she created this, she could create something else.
So she did.
Chapter Twenty-two
Jamis stopped in the office to pay for the week. Jamis waited while Tess rang up another customer and then slowly moved to the counter. “You look like one of my dogs after they pee on a toy.”
“Don’t yell at me anymore,” Jamis said.
“I’m not mad. You’re just nuts.”
“I don’t disagree. I came to pay my bill and see if I can book another week. I’m heading up to Salt Lake, but I’m not ready to leave yet.”
“If you promise not to flail around like an idiot on my sidewalk.”
Jamis really hoped she wouldn’t. Tess handed her the credit card receipt. “I’ll see you later tonight or tomorrow.”
Her phone chirped. It was Sapphire. She texted back that she’d stop on her way out of town. After leaving Johnna the night before, Jamis decided to visit Mildred in Salt Lake. Johnna said her mom’s visit to the store gave her the strength she needed to change. Johnna admitted she’d never visited. She only knew about it because Carmen told her the story. Jamis understood. It made sense to want to hold it in sacred space, not soil it with reality. She didn’t tell Johnna her plans to visit. Maybe later, if she found resolution.
Sapphire waited outside the municipal building, wearing a light sweater. The weather had warmed to forty degrees, and people acted like it was summer. Jamis pulled into a parking spot. Sapphire jogged to the passenger door and climbed in.
“Did you have a good time at dinner?”
“Um, yes.” Sapphire looked at her clasped hands. “You said something, didn’t you?”
“I just pointed out the obvious.”
“What’s that?” Sapphire looked at her from the corners of her eyes.
“That you’re brilliant, amazing, beautiful, and he’s a fool. Because you’ve waited.” Sapphire lunged across the seat and hugged Jamis’s neck.
“You act distant and cool, but you’re so soft and kind. Decent,” Sapphire said.
“No, I’m not. But I’m trying to be better,” Jamis said.
“What are you doing? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Going to Salt Lake. I’ve got some stuff to do. But I’m coming back. I want to see Stephanie exhumed. Maggie will come up,” Jamis said.
“Okay. Well, text me when you’re there and safe. I’m going to work on the video feed some today, see if can enhance the resolution and such of those images.”
Sapphire waved at Jamis as she drove away. She wound her way back to Salt Lake. The path was less menacing this time, because her expectations were set. Everything was less scary the second time around. The only stuff she had to do in Salt Lake was see Mildred at Caravan.
* * *
Jamis parked in front of the store. The parking lot was empty but for a scooter chained to a hose pipe by the front door. Caravan was a small, wooden framed building, standing alone in a half-acre lot, circled by a cement sidewalk. Jamis turned in a full circle to look at the Wasatch Mountains, which gave way to the valley, reaching to the Great Salt Lake, and then to the Salt Flats beyond. It was breathtaking, and she imagined Emma standing there in 1991.
Warm air soaked with incense greeted her when she stepped inside. There were shelves of crystals, books, rings, necklaces, and earrings. It was a lot to take in, so she focused on the woman behind the counter.
“Hi,” Jamis said. The woman looked at her. Her hair was gray, long, and pulled into a loose ponytail. She wore a purple crystal around her neck and a small silver ring on her thumb. Her linen dress hung loosely on her shoulders.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Mildred,” Jamis said. The woman’s eyes were piercing blue and Jamis felt unsettled by her stare.
“I’m she.” She tipped her head, watching Jamis. “You’ve come a long way to see me.”
“I was in Sage Creek.” Mildred was silent. “I came to Utah looking for a ghost. A poltergeist.” Jamis stumbled over her word
s.
“That’s not why you came.”
“No, it is. I got a video.”
Mildred laughed and set down her magazine. “Well, that is the external causation for your arrival. But you’ve always come here. There is never a time you don’t come here.” She tipped her head. “You’ve got stuff to work out. This is where it happens. Time and time again.”
“I actually came to talk to you about someone else. Not me,” Jamis said, stepping back.
“Someone else is you. Others are mirrors of ourselves. We only see them when we’re ready to see ourselves.”
“Okay. Yeah. Well, I won’t keep you.” Jamis wanted to flee. Despite everything she’d seen, from alien epitaphs to moaning specters, Mildred’s new age thought meets Freud, triggered the landmines in her. So many things came to mind to say. “What the fuck, Mildred?” was on top of her mind, but she didn’t say it. Instead, Jamis waited for more, expecting some long-winded spiel about how her negative energy created everything bad in her life. “Emma. I just want to talk about Emma Yager.”
Mildred pushed the stool against the counter, turned off the radio playing nature music, walked past Jamis, and locked the door. She flipped off the open light and pointed to beads hanging in a doorway. “I need a snack and some tea. Join me?”
Jamis’s desire to talk about Emma outweighed her cynicism. The beads swooshed. Mildred turned on a small electric kettle. “Go ahead and sit,” Mildred said, pointing to a small couch. “What kind of tea would you like?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Mildred busied herself with the tea. Tapestries of brilliant red, blue, purple, and yellow hung on the walls. There were deep purple rugs on the floor. Mildred poured the hot water into a glass, settled a tea bag in it, and brought two cups to the couch. She handed one to Jamis. “Are you a gypsy?”
“Oh, probably in one life or another.” Mildred joined her on the couch. “So, Emma.”
“Do you remember her?”
“I see a lot of people,” she said, blowing on her tea.
“That’s not really an answer,” Jamis said. She set the tea on her knee and stared straight ahead.
“I know it isn’t. I’m trying to decide what to tell you.”
“You do remember,” Jamis said.
“Of course. But I don’t think this is about Emma.” Her eyes at once softened with compassion and indomitable strength. There was no pushing this conversation. “This is about you.” Jamis shook her head. “If you think you know so much, why did you come to me?”
Jamis was pissed and felt it from her abdomen to her face. “Look, if you want to help me, fine, but don’t give me tea and do some Dumbledore shit with me. Either answer the question or don’t. If not, I’ll leave.”
“Stop it,” Mildred ordered. “You’re angry, but it’s not at me. Who are you so pissed at? Your mom? Life? Yourself? Who?”
Sadness welled up behind Jamis’s rage, and she fought back a sob. She put the tea on the table next to the couch. Mildred didn’t move. “Just tell me about Emma.” Why was she so emotional?
“You already know everything you need to know about Emma. You’re connected, that’s how you communicate. I don’t know anything more than that. You came here today, just as she came here, all those years ago, to find answers from me you already have inside yourself.” She sipped her tea.
“You love her daughter. You always have. You’re just seeing it now. She’s your path, by the way. Look no further. It’s the only way you’ll evolve past the self-obsessed boob you are now.” Jamis was shocked and insulted, but paused before she said anything. Mildred was right, and how did she know about Johnna? “The other spirit. The angry spirit and Emma. Somehow, they’re connected. I don’t know how, but you’ll find out soon.”
Jamis listened quietly, less agitated. Mildred wasn’t a new age hack who fed on people’s guilt and fears. Maybe she was legit. “It’s all really happening now, you know. Nothing happens that doesn’t happen in the now.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jamis said, hands up.
“You will.” Mildred turned to face her. “I need to go back to work.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Jamis said.
“That’s good, actually, because you talk too much.”
“I make a living talking,” Jamis said, defensive.
Then Mildred hugged her, quickly but tightly. “Now go on. Be a hero. Love. Live your life. It’ll all come together in the next few days.” Jamis’s agitation returned. Mildred controlled their entire exchange. She felt like a puppet, strings yanked. “You need to be careful, though. It’s a passage between light and dark, and a lot is being transmuted. Share the burden. Tell someone else.”
“That’s what she said. Emma. Told me to tell Carmen.” Jamis paused, the door opened wide.
“Then do it,” Mildred said.
“What if she gets angry and doesn’t believe me?”
“The spirit of a dead woman told you to do something.” Jamis waited for something else, but nothing came. Mildred held up her hands in front of her, palms up.
“Right,” Jamis said. “It’s crazy to not just listen.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Jamis turned and left, pausing to look at the view one more time. The sun had passed the midpoint of the sky. She wouldn’t return to Sage Creek for the night. She’d find a hotel, head back in the morning. She needed a break from whatever was happening to her there, and needed to muster the courage to share everything with Carmen.
Chapter Twenty-three
Jamis tossed and turned in the hotel bed all night, dreaming of her mom. Sleep came in spurts, finally taking her deep around three a.m., where she remained until noon. She rushed to leave, anxious and frantic, feeling in a hurry though there was nowhere to be. The conversation with Mildred triggered a lot of emotion buried under layers of practiced detachment.
Jamis was consumed by death. Death was her life. It’s why she chased ghosts. Dr. Frank was right. She was bound by her mother’s death, trapped in a cycle of repetition, where in large and small ways, the trauma replayed. Never finding proof meant never achieving closure. It meant Jamis was a walking, breathing, hungry ghost.
She drove hectically, only half-conscious of the GPS directions. She knew that when people died, there was an authentic, chemical reaction to the loss of their presence. The pathways in our brains which form our experience of reality had to be rewritten. She was rewritten by grief, all those years ago, and because it happened at such a formative age, she never stopped living out the same story.
It was all madness. She was absurd.
Her head swam with darkness. She liked it there a little too much and always had. She just needed to get clear of what was happening in Sage Creek, back to the sunlight in Los Angeles, and figure out what came next. She’d reform. Get a real job. Maybe go back to school, be a real archaeologist. If any decent academic program would have her. She’d stop visiting women like Mildred, entertaining these fanciful ideas that did nothing but reinforce her delusions that her mom remained after she died. That’s what the counselors in the group homes called it. Delusions.
It was all too much, so Jamis did what she always did. She struggled to detach as the skyline of Sage Creek came into view. Once there, she stopped at the police station, sought out Detective Daniels, and pressed to find the status of Stephanie’s case. He assured her the case was re-opened and that he contacted Maggie. He needed to wait until Monday to get an order to exhume the body. She accepted his responses and talked with him about the process for some time and left satisfied but not satiated. She liked him and trusted he’d do the right thing.
Which is why her increasing alarm worried her. She’d woken unhinged, ruminating on grief and death, when her mood should have been settling. Stephanie’s death would be investigated. Mildred told her she’d figure out what she needed to learn from Emma. But the knots in her stomach called for her attention. She texted Johnna again. She’d kept
her up to date and wanted to see her but knew there was no avoiding Carmen any longer. She told Johnna she was going to stop by Carmen’s and would reach out later.
She dialed Carmen and waited for her to answer. Her call rolled to voice mail, and she hung up and tucked the phone in the center console.
Her phone rang, and she jumped. “Carmen?”
“Yeah. Did you call?”
“I was wondering if you could talk. I mean, I need to talk. Are you free?”
“Sure. Just come by. I’ll text you my address.”
“Okay,” Jamis said.
“You okay?” Carmen asked, concern in her voice.
“I’m just leaving the police station. I think I’m just unsettled by it all.”
“Well, come over. I was just watching TV.” Carmen covered the phone and she heard her talking.
“If someone is there, I don’t need to come over,” Jamis said.
“No one is here. I was talking to the dog Johnna stuck me with me. He’s some sort of mutt, maybe shepherd and poodle? He’s deaf and confused all the time. Someone brought him into the clinic six months ago for her to put down.” Jamis heard the affection in her voice and it warmed her and slowed her nerves. “Obviously, she couldn’t.”
“His name?”
“T-Rex. But I just call him Rex.” Jamis grinned despite the weight of her limbs.
“I’m on my way.” Jamis hung up, querying the address Carmen texted. Saturday night was slow in Sage Creek. There was a time in life when Saturday night meant chaos, mayhem, and partying all night. Now, she was more likely to be home with Netflix. She’d somehow managed to evolve with time, not just grow old with it. Maybe she was healthier than she thought.
At Carmen’s house, she raised her hand to knock on the door. Carmen opened it proactively and smiled. She wore a simple gray T-shirt and dark blue jeans. She’d gotten a haircut since she’d seen her last and it was buzzed against her head. Tears spilled onto Jamis’s cheeks.
“Kid, what is wrong?” Carmen hugged her, pulling her into the house. Jamis stiffened and then relaxed. It was comforting, and she wasn’t used to such feelings. Carmen patted her back and pulled away, hands on her shoulders, dark eyes soft. “What’s wrong?”