"I don't believe in her," Alice says. We're sitting on the same log around the fire. "I know Guy and his grandmother think she's like, evil or whatever, but I see no evidence that she, or really any ghost exists."
I shift uncomfortably and remind myself not to tell her about how a four-legged ghost has been pulling the strings on this whole adventure that I'm having.
"She's real alright." That's Bruce. "Shit, she broke my favorite mug last week."
Celeste chimes in, "I agree with Bruce. She is real, but she's not nefarious or even mischievous, she's grieving."
"We're all grievin'. Ain't no reason to spill a man's beer."
"Maybe she knows that you would have benefited from drinking one less beer?" Celeste coos back; a stunning display of passive-aggressive Namaste culture.
Maryn sits directly across from me; it looks as if she's engulfed in flames. She interrupts the argument that is bubbling between Bruce and Celeste. "Let us keep this to our own experiences and honor the experience of others."
Bruce blows an airy mouth fart at her and then quiets down.
"Lucee, tell us your experiences of her."
"Everything I know about her is someone else's interpretation of my experience. I don't have any feelings one way or another."
Bruce coughs "bullshit" into his hands. I know it shouldn't bother me, but he's wrecking the buzz from the heat and stepping on the lingering high from being that close to Davis.
"Then tell us what you, yourself, have been experiencing."
"You already know all of it."
She nods a few times. "That is true, but there is merit to laying it out, altogether. Imagine we are making a quilt out of everything that has happened to you. We need as many pieces as possible so we have something to stitch together."
I exhale forcefully and involuntarily, leading with my exasperation. "Well, I guess there's been a lot of weird dreams, and my first night here I heard something that sounded like singing. You all know that I was sleepwalking and almost fell into a turquoise mine." I ignore the snort escapes from Bruce. I'm positive he knows the details, and I hate that he has any excuse to imagine me naked. "That's the whole story."
Bruce says, "What about when you were floatin' through town in that 'get-up'? Like witnessin' a straight-up possession."
"And when you knew the boy's name who drowned in the lake? Benjamin," Alice offers.
"You said yourself that you think that you suddenly look different. Remember, you said your eyes are even a different shape." Davis piles on.
"Also, you were called here," Celeste adds, "but by whom?"
"The evidence that something is going on is overwhelming, Lucee. What do you make of it?" asks Maryn.
I sit there in a long silence. She's leading me somewhere, but I'm not willing to go. Not willing, or not able? The fire is getting to me. The heat, the loss of electrolytes. I fear I might fall the few feet from log to ground.
"We ain't got all night, sweetheart. Get there already."
"Bruce, please."
"I love to hear you beg, Maryn."
"That's inappropriate, Bruce."
"So's your bein' here, Celeste."
"I'm here for Lucee."
Their argument and observations swirl around me like wind, straining my ears. My irritation flashes a serious warning as the group starts to spin sideways. I squint hard, trying to stop them from moving. It isn't working. For an instant, everything blanks out of existence, and that's when I find myself standing. My eyes are wide open, but I see nothing. My vocal chords are humming inside my throat, when a voice, that is being amplified by my gaping mouth but sounds like nothing I recognize, releases a single word. It cuts through the air and draws all gazes to me.
Even the eyes of night animals burrowed in the low shrubs turn to honor the seriousness of the vociferate word.
"Enough."
YOU ARE READING
Following Fish
ChickLit"The day my husband committed himself to inpatient treatment was the same day my dog died." When your life falls apart, and the pieces are so small and few that you can hold them in one hand, what do you do? Lucee Lekki decides to slip them into her...
