Spirits Read online

  “Do you want to maybe try going to an AA meeting today?”

  Tori was still scanning the bare room. The carpet was baby-shit green. The sliding closet displayed a spaghetti intersection of multicolored crayon and marker scribbles.

  “I’m really tired,” she said. “I just don’t think I can do this today. If you could show me where that mattress is, I could just grab it. I need some rest.”

  Chris shuffled off to a closet in the hallway and returned with the flaccid air mattress, its pump dangling along behind.

  “I’ll set you up,” he said. “Why don’t you go sit down in the living room? I’ll have this done in a few minutes.”

  She took a deep breath. The shakes were more persistent now.

  It’s time, you disgusting sack of shit. Go take your medicine.

  It was the first time she’d heard the voice since she was at the hospital in the dark place. For a while, she thought this nightmare might finally be over. Something slimed inside her, but it felt softer, more subdued.

  “If it’s okay with you, I might go take a walk,” she called as the electric air pump cranked up. “I could really use the fresh air.”

  Tori pulled her purse onto her shoulder and rushed out the front door before she could hear his response. It was far colder than she realized, and she tucked her frozen fingers into the knit of the sweater sleeves and crossed her arms under the breasts. The wind whipped through her body. Her teeth chattered.

  The gravel road crunched beneath her sneakers. The reeds rattled as she scurried by. Something slithered in the water by the roadside, and she sped up, terrified that something might leap out of the marsh and pounce on her. The air changed, and the heavy sensation of someone following her pressed upon her. She hooked a right and speed-walked, retracing the path back to the convenience store.

  The road narrowed, and claustrophobia grasped her. Water trickled in the marsh, melding with the lazy swoosh of animals moving beyond the curtain of brittle plant life. She scrambled forward, shuffling her feet as she walked. Soon, a stitch in her side made her slow and press her palm against her ribs. Breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as the shadow of something inched its way toward her. Tori saw a black blur in her peripheral vision, and she battled every instinct to turn and see what it was. Instead, she jerked forward. She could see the store’s sign––Williamson’s Bait ‘n Tackle. The road ahead of her was completely engulfed in a shadow. Her chest tightened. A long, languid appendage reached out for her, and she ran. Sweat gathered at the small of her back. She turned and cried out at the image of a wriggling mass of snakes, knotted into a single undulating form.

  The bait and tackle were her sanctuary. Her feet slapped the pavement as she zoomed past the outdoor ice freezer. A cowbell clonk-clonked when she shoved open the door. Tori pressed her face against the glass, staring back at the road. Nothing was there. Something brushed against her shoulder, and she wheeled around, nearly knocking into a man in a flannel shirt and dirty jeans.

  “Can I help you with something, Miss? You okay?”

  Tori swallowed hard and wiped the sweat from her upper lip with the back of her hand.

  “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Sorry. Just thought someone was following me. But I was wrong.”

  The man cocked an eyebrow at her and moved to his station behind the cluttered counter. He looked like he might be ready to grab the shiny black phone and call the cops, but he didn’t. The place smelled the jelly shoes she had when she was six. Wrigglers and hooks lined the display next to the register. Styrofoam containers of live worms were stacked along a wood panel wall. The coolers were in the back. That’s all Tori needed. She marched past shelves of salty snacks and beyond rows of candy bars. The silver packages of Zero bars caught her eye. She turned away from them, the shuddering desire to drink overpowering any tender nostalgia she might have felt on another day.

  The beer would have to do. Tori didn’t much care for it. Liquor was more efficient. She hefted up two six packs of Corona. She’d spent a few Cinco de Mayos at the Carriage House, drinking Coronas with lime wedges with her associates. It would do.

  The beers rattled as they gently smacked against her legs on the way back to the counter. The flannel-shirted guy banged numbers into the cash register.

  “That’ll be $19.05,” he said.

  She fished a twenty out of her billfold and passed it over to him. The change scraped in the drawer as he plucked out ninety-five cents and handed it to her. She tossed it haphazardly in the purse, desperate to crack open a beer. Shit. She’d need something to open them with. She pulled a plastic opener from a rack and slid it across the counter.

  “Fifty cents,” the clerk said.

  Tori rattled around in her bag, took out a couple of quarters, handed them over, and dashed back into the biting cold afternoon. Silence enveloped her. She sat on the gritty concrete and pulled a cold beer from the cardboard carton.

  Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the red plastic opener. She pressed the flat edge against the bottle cap and pushed up. The beer hissed like a snake, and she almost dropped it. The cap popped off, and she guzzled it, nursing from it like a baby. Half was gone before she realized it. She came up for air, gasping, and took another pull, desperate to get as much into her blood as she could.

  Tori drained the last, sudsy drops from the bottle and set it aside on the concrete next to her. Her hands still trembled, almost as badly as they had when she arrived at the store. She cracked open a second beer and pulled hard on it, taking down the mild, watery beverage. It was like sucking down water.

  The sun cast long shadows over the store by the time she polished off the very last beer. She’d been gone since around lunchtime, and she knew Chris would be wondering where she’d gotten to.

  The clerk shoved open the door and stuck his head out, clanking the bell as he did.

  “Excuse me, Miss. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to leave. And take your mess with you.” He eyed the empties with the kind of disdain church ladies reserve for scantily clad women.

  Tori stood and felt remarkably fresh and stable.

  “Sorry,” she said, stooping to gather up the bottles and toss them into a stained green trashcan.

  Tori gathered up her purse and headed back down the road. The marsh buzzed and hummed with life. The tension she’d felt earlier dissipated into a smooth indifference. What difference did it make if she walked right down the center of the road? If a car hit her, would it matter? Would it be justice? Her head spun, and the idea seemed genuinely funny. Uproarious laughter sputtered out of her until her eyes watered and she had to stop and put her hands on her knees. At least it would all be over. She fell to her knees, hopeful someone would come by doing about sixty in the thirty-five zone and smash her into the pavement like a cracked, battered turtle.

  Good. Now you’re talkin’.

  The voice made her jump up and leap forward, step lively, and check her back. The memory of the massive mountain of snakes shook her.

  Tori almost felt sober by the time she reached Chris’s house. She was certain she could pass for sober anyway. She knocked on the door, and he answered, a concerned grimace imprinted upon his face. He opened it and let her inside.

  “Where on earth have you been? I was just about to get in my car and come looking for you.”

  Tori shrugged. “I told you, I just needed some fresh air. So, I took a long walk.”

  His eyes flashed with anger. “You’ve been drinking.” He pointed a finger in her face. “I told you, you need help. You need …”

  A knocking sound startled her, and she spun around. Chris brushed past her and opened it again. Amelia stood on the other side. Tori felt the room tilt as she fell forward. Everything went dark.

  Muffled voices spoke as she came around. The sight of Amelia sitting on the threadbare sofa, sipping something from a cracked mug made her dizzy again.

  “Hey, you okay?” Chris asked, setting down his own mug.

  Tori put a han
d to her forehead. It ached.

  “How?” she asked. “Where have you been?”

  Amelia put her cup on the littered coffee table and leaned forward.

  “You got very belligerent with me when I asked you to leave, and I felt like you were going to harm me. So, I spent a few days with my in-laws. I didn’t want any trouble with you. I didn’t want you to get into any trouble. So, I felt it was in everyone’s best interest if I just got out of the way for a few days and let things settle down.”

  Tori wanted to shake her and ask her how she could possibly be here when she should, by all logic, be dead right now. She’d seen her. Hadn’t she? Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, so she shut it again and kept the dreadful act to herself. Even half-drunk, she knew better than to incriminate herself.

  “I heard you had an accident, and Bracken Nunnally from the Rusty Nail told me you were probably going to stay with Chris, so I came by to check on you. I didn’t mean to scare you. I brought some of your things over. I hope you don’t mind that I went through your stuff, but I thought you might want some extra clothes.”

  Tori sat up on the floor and pulled her knees into her chest. She noticed her suitcase by the front door. It comforted her to know she wouldn’t have to go back to the B&B.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “I appreciate it. Look, I don’t remember what happened the day you asked me to leave. I wasn’t in my right mind, and I’m really sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me now, but I hope one day, we can at least talk about it. Because, boy, do I have a doozy of a story.”

  Amelia picked up her mug and took a long drink. “Chris told me what happened.”

  Tori shot him a bitter look.

  “I want to help. That’s all I was trying to do by getting you to go to AA,” Amelia went on. “I swear, I wasn’t trying to hurt you in any way. I suppose I can’t force you, but I’m offering my help if you want it.”

  Amelia put the mug back on the table and stood. “Anyway, that’s all. I think I’m going to head home. It’s getting late, and I could use some rest.”

  Chris walked her to the door and let her out. They exchanged a few words Tori couldn’t hear, and he closed the door behind her.

  “We need to talk,” he said. He clasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. She thought he was going to embrace her, but instead, he led her to the couch Amelia had been sitting on and moved to the recliner.

  He sat and put his head in his hands.

  “I’m an alcoholic,” he told her. “I’m in recovery. Have been for more than twenty years, but nothing will ever change the fact that I’m an alcoholic. You are, too. You just haven’t gotten to the point of admitting it yet. I hope you can before …”

  Something hummed in her head. It drowned out some of the words he said after this, but she tried to push it away and make it shut up.

  You need to drink more, it said. This fucker doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

  “… when I was a young man. My daughter was only two. My wife was twenty-three, same as me …”

  Another beer would take the edge off. Look at how nervous you are. Everyone wants to lecture you, but do they know what you’ve been through?

  Her hands were shaking again.

  “… and I just couldn’t handle the pain. I drank. I drank every day. By the time I got help, I couldn’t start the day without a drink. If you don’t get some help soon, you are going to die. The funniest thing? I completely understand why nearly dying had absolutely no affect at all on you. The addiction is everything. You won’t let anything stop you. I may not even be able to stop you. And I’m no fool. You won’t get help until you really want it.”

  Jesus H. Christ, can this guy lecture or what? Fuck. Just think. If you’d just died like a good bitch, you wouldn’t have to listen to this shit right now.

  “I do want help,” she said, trying to drown out the voices. “I don’t want to die.”

  She thought she meant it, but the voices were back. It would’ve been easier if she’d died. She wondered why she didn’t just leap in front of oncoming traffic. Or take a knife from Chris’s butcher block. Or walk into the sea. And the answer was simple. There was still a spark of life. Somewhere, tucked inside the black writhing mass of evil that wound its way through her bloodstream was the real her. Flawed, yes. Self-centered, yes. Human, yes. But also ambitious. Also intelligent. Also passionate. Also determined. She’d done a horrible thing and killed a young woman, but she felt genuine, heart-crushing, soul-breaking remorse. She’d tried to find comfort inside a bottle, and now she was trapped. And that thought terrified her more than the thing that wrapped itself around her.

  “I think I just want to sleep. Would it be all right if I went to bed now?”

  The orange remnants of day still lingered outside. It couldn’t have been later than seven.

  Chris shrugged with resignation. She crept past him to the makeshift bedroom. He’d pulled a flower-printed sheet over the air mattress. A flat pillow rested at one end. A green fleece blanket drooped over the edge.

  She pulled the thin rope of the blinds, and they clacked on the way down. The room still glowed in a sickly umber. The mattress squished as she climbed onto it. It crinkled and groaned under her weight as she pulled the blanket up over her shoulder and settled her head onto the pillow. She wanted to sleep, but her eyes remained open and focused on the faded pink walls. Pink. Chris had been talking about a little girl and his wife. Cold horror broke over her skin as she realized this had been his daughter’s room, and she was dead. She hadn’t caught how his wife and child died, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was a broken man who was trying to help her. Sobs shuddered her body. Her eyes burned and sagged. Before long, she slipped into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER 18

  Tori jerked up from the depths of her slumber. The walls were dark. The house was quiet. Something was in the room with her. Her eyes strained to focus. Blue moonlight filtered through the closed blinds.

  The dim light outlined an indistinct, twisting mass. Tori’s heart lodged itself in her throat. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Something extended toward her, long and elegant. The moonglow illuminated two black eyes and a forked tongue that zipped in and out of the being’s mouth. It felt leathery against her skin and wound itself between her arms and around her waist, pulling itself taut and squeezing her tightly.

  Don’t worry. I’m still here, it hissed. It’s time to drink again.

  “No,” she said aloud. “I don’t want to. I almost died. I don’t want to die. I can’t do this. I can’t. I won’t.”

  Tori’s mouth fell open as hot tears burned her face. She heaved up and down, desperate to suck in a breath.

  “You can’t make me.”

  The fuck I can’t.

  It squeezed until her eyes bulged.

  Get up. Get out.

  She stumbled onto the floor on her hands and knees and crawled for the door. It opened of its own volition. The snaky conglomerate marched her into the darkened house. Her feet were bare, but the thing wouldn’t let her stop. The air stung her skin when she opened the front door and slipped outside. She padded down the front steps and across the frosty-cold lawn. Her feet burned.

  She still wore the droopy sweater Chris had given her when she left the hospital. It hung around her body, and the wind pierced the knit. She felt like a criminal being led to the electric chair as she rounded the corner and took the right that led to the Williamson’s Bait ‘n Tackle. The darkness along the marshy roadway was all-consuming. Noises perked her ears. Slushing and rustling, whoooing and chirping. Night animals stalked and hunted, slinking a path through the brush to mice and chipmunks. Tori listened as something light and fast charged through the bushes to her left. A fox bounded in front of her. The sight startled her, but it paid her no mind, leaping full-throttle at a doomed chipmunk that cowered among the brown grass at the roadside.

  Tori’s lips quivered at the cold. She shuffled
along, gripped by the beast, unsure of what exactly it wanted her to do. The convenience store would be closed by now. Night blanketed the neighborhood. The frigid road bit at her feet.

  A light glowed ugly and yellow just down the street. The store was in sight, but how would she buy anything? Even if the place was open, she didn’t have money or her purse. The grip on her waist tightened until she fell forward. The road shredded her knees. She cried out and struggled back to her feet. Blood seeped through the blue fabric of her jeans. She tried to bend to examine the scrapes, but the slick appendage drew her back upright.

  The gravel of Williamson’s driveway gouged the soft, tender balls of her feet. Her pace quickened, and she stepped up onto the smooth concrete walkway at the entrance.

  The inside of the store was dark. The streetlamp reflected in the window, and Tori approached the glass and put a hand to it. She saw herself. Her face was long and gaunt. Hollow bowls replaced her eyes. The sides of her mouth were carved with deep lines. Her stringy hair frayed in all directions. She strained to see the beast that clutched her, but it blended into the darkness beyond her.

  Footsteps crunched on the gravel, and she jerked around. A round-bellied man with an oil-stained T-shirt and dirt-coated jeans jittered toward her. He clutched a bottle in each hand. The liquid sloshed as he approached.

  “Hey there, sweetheart.”

  Her heart lurched as she realized it was the same dirty man she’d seen at Harrington’s days ago, the man whose mouth spewed snakes.

  She backed up until she hit the glass.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” she said.

  A craggy laugh erupted from the man’s throat. Tori could see he didn’t have any front teeth, and she worried snakes might wriggle out of the chasm.

  “Ain’t gonna get no trouble from me, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Naw, I brought you a little something. We can share. See? I’m your friend.”

  He extended one of the bottles to her. The liquid inside was black like tar. He took the other, which filled with clear fluid, and suckled from it.