We take my
Prius because Crystal has to leave the minivan for Felix and the kids. Crystal
stares out the window as the road rolls by. She hasn’t said two words in 40
miles. Is she mad at me? Worried about her kids? Scared of meeting Emily again?
Or just rehashing her argument with Felix in her head?
My
parents argued all the time. That’s how I thought grownups were. After a long
time, and a little help from therapists and friends, I figured out that you
don’t have to shout at people to get what you want. I still don’t entirely
understand it, but I’m getting better. I don’t punch my friends nearly so often
anymore.
Eventually
Crystal leans back in her seat. Hills rise on the side of the highway. She
sighs and stretches her arms over her head. “You know, I love him. And my kids.
Even Ferdinand.”
I
check on a truck in the left lane, coming up fast. “Yeah. I get that.”
She
laughs. “But I never loved anything more than those summers.”
Me
too. Even now, outhouse and sleeping bags and all the rest, the cabin feels
like the happiest time of my life. The first time I felt free to be me, without
anyone judging who I was or what I thought or how I felt. Even when we argued about
feminism, love, and magic. People listened to me. It was like a drug. It was
why I kept coming back.
“We’re
close.” The sun is coming down. I pass the exit to the McDonald’s where I had
breakfast yesterday. “LeAnn will be happy to see you.”
“Can
we stop?” She points at a sign for Burger King at the next exit. “I can’t
really deal with all the vegan food she’ll probably try to shove down our
throats.”
I
laugh. “Fine. Make sure you go to the bathroom.”
“Crystal?”
LeAnn runs across the porch in the moonlight. “Oh my god, you’re okay!” They
hug.
I
leave my backpack in the back seat as they walk up into the cabin. A bat zooms
over my head. I’m hoping I won’t have to spend the night here again, even if it
means driving all the way back to Chicago on dark roads.
Inside
LeAnn is chattering like one of Crystal’s kids, cutting a slice of homemade
bread and offering her some corn from her garden. “So you’ve got kids? I bet
they’re cute! What are you doing with your life?”
Crystal
looks at me with a grimace. “Well—the usual, you know? Driving around in a
minivan. Soccer practice after school. Marketing stuff at my job. But hey,
Rachel and I busted an asshole killing animals to try and raise his dead wife.
That was kind of exciting. Aside from that . . .” She rubs her eyes. “My
husband’s cool. The sex is good.”
“That’s
important.” LeAnn looks at me. “Oh, Rachel, are you hungry? I should get—”
“I’m
fine.” I lean against the door, my legs tired from driving. I’m tired and I
want a beer. “We should talk about Emily.”
LeAnn
fills a plastic cup from her jug of water. “I haven’t seen her since the other
night.” She sits down at the table. “I don’t know what to do.”
“She
was at my house last night.” Crystal tosses the bread back down on the cracked
blue plate. “She scared my kids.” Her voice sounds as unsteady as the wobbly
wooden chair under her butt
Gretchen
and Ben hadn’t seemed too frightened by the strange lady in the back yard. But
Crystal probably knows her children better than I do. I grab a folding chair
and sit down. “Why does she come here? Why does she talk to you?”
LeAnn
sets her glass down hard, spilling water over the thin white tablecloth. “Maybe
because I’m still growing my own food? Drinking good water, making friends with
people who are different from me? This place is where it all began. For her, me
. . . all of us. Down at the lake.”
Crystal
glances at me. As if this is all my fault somehow.
“What
does Emily say?” Maybe I should have asked this from the beginning.
LeAnn
sighs. “She always asks if I want to come with her. Then she asks about the
rest of you.” She looks from me to Crystal. “Then she tells me who she wants
next. Then she goes back into the water. And I go to bed.”
“She
asks about us?” Crystal looks nervous. “Are you . . . is she picking the one
she wants?”
“She
knew you worked in marketing.” I peer at LeAnn. “What did you tell her?”
She
looks away from me. “I don’t know that much about any of you these days.” It’s
close to an accusation. “It feels like—girl talk, you know? I probably talk to
Emily more than any of the rest of you. I haven’t seen either of you in years.”
“I’ve
been . . . busy.” Crystal looks around the room. “Doing . . . you know.”
“Soccer
practice?” LeAnn snorts. “Marketing stuff? That’s what you’re doing now? I’m
not mad.” She shakes her head. “But I like it right here. I just didn’t run off
to the cities like everyone else.” She looks straight at me.
“Oh,
for Christ’s sake, LeAnn, you’re the one hiding out here in the middle of
nowhere!” My voice is shaking as a breeze rattles the window. “There are bats outside! You’re holding this place together with duct tape! You pee in an outhouse! You don’t even have wi-fi!” Suddenly I just want to kick the table over and walk out to my car and drive
away. But I can’t. And not just because I’d strand Crystal here.
“Is
that what you think?” LeAnn plants her hands on the table. “I’m just some
redneck living out here in the country, and you and all your friends are so
much better than me? I made this place, and it’s a good place, and I don’t care
what you think!”
“I
think you’re scared.” I walk toward her, so pissed off I could spit. “There’s a
whole real world out there, LeAnn, and some of us live there! And we do okay! I
like my apartment, my car, my computer, my phone! Why are you still here?” I
stop right in front of her. “Is it because of Emily?”
“No!”
LeAnn steps back from me, frightened. “What are you talking about? I’m not . .
.”
“Then
what are we doing here? Why did you send me that message? Why is—” I stop for
breath. “LeAnn, come on. Just tell us what’s going on.”
Crickets.
Maybe outside. Maybe in the walls. LeAnn and I stare at each other.
I
remember when I listened to everything she said. LeAnn was in charge, it was
her house. But that was a long time ago. A lot has changed since then.
“Just
listen.” LeAnn leans down over the table, her face inches from Crystal. “You
don’t have to go. Okay?”
Crystal
picks up a piece of bread. “Great. I guess.”
I
look at LeAnn. “So she can just . . . say no? Is that it?”
“That’s
what Emily always says. She says it’s in the book, no one has to come if they
don’t—”
The
book? “We should burn that book. Right now.”
“Hey,
you were here with all of us!” LeAnn jabs a finger at my face. “You saw it—we
all saw it! And you danced with all of us. But after a few years you all had
better things to do, and you just ignored me! The crazy bitch living out in the
country—”
“I
never danced!” For some reason this burns more than anything else she’s saying.
Okay, I sat by the fire, watching them. Envying them, maybe.
But
I stayed on my ass, scared and—okay, a little dazzled.
I
can still picture the demon, big and powerful in the flames. I watched my
friends whirl around the fire, chanting in a language none of us knew or
understood. I stared at him—it. Something deep and powerful made me want to
join in. And scared me. And I stayed back.
Goddamn
it, that memory of songs and dancing and a huge beast who wanted me still makes
me horny. And somewhere deep inside my brain, I’m still ashamed that I held
back. Because I wanted it too.
I
want to punch something. Or someone. “Fuck you! You danced, and everyone else!
Crystal, you were there!” I turn on her. “Did you see me—”
“Oh,
both of you, shut up!” Crystal pushed the chair. “I can’t take this anymore!”
She lurches towards the front door. “I hate this! I hate all of it!”
“Crystal?”
LeAnn pushes past me. “What are you—where are you going?”
“Down
to the lake!” She’s on the porch now, pulling her shoes off. “I don’t care
about you or the rest of them anymore! I’m just tired of all this crap!” She
steps down off the porch in her bare feet and staggers toward the path. “Kids,
soccer practice, minivans, meetings, assholes . . .”
She
walks across the grass and down the path.
“Rachel
. . .” LeAnn looks at me as if now I have all the answer. “What’s she doing?”
“If
she can decide—” I try to sort it out in my head. “If she can say no, then that
means everyone Emily took—they all left of their own free will? Connie, Robyn .
. .” Robyn was my best friend in college. But like LeAnn and Crystal, I hadn’t
seen or talked to her in years. “They wanted to go?”
“I
don’t know.” For the first time since I’ve ever known her, LeAnn looks scared
and helpless. “What should we do?”
Crystal’s
already disappeared on the path, I hope we’re not too late. “I guess we go down
to the lake.”
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