DevilMayRide

20
“I’ve gotta tell you, Sadie. There’s a real good chance this is a complete waste of time,” Maeva said, reclining the passenger seat of Sadie’s Honda until it was as far back as it would go. “It’s been six years and—”
“You talk to spirits all the time that have been dead for a lot longer than six years. Sometimes you reach people from the last century.”
“True.”
“And you get results.”
“Most of the time.” She brushed her fingernails against her chest and smirked. “I’m pretty good, aren’t I? You were the biggest skeptic I’ve ever converted.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a believer now.”
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” Maeva said softly. “I know I’ve told you before it’s possible you inherited your ability from a deceased family member, but it’s just as likely that your uncle was simply plain crazy.”
“I need to know for sure.”
“But it won’t change anything.”
Sadie didn’t reply. It was after ten and not much traffic greeted her on the highway. She checked the speedometer and pressed down a little more on the accelerator.
“If Uncle Glen did talk to the dead, I don’t believe he passed that on to me,” Sadie said seriously.
“Then why are we traveling hundreds of miles this late, and why did I leave a perfectly good pedi-massage that promised to turn into hot ’n’ heavy sex?”
“I think Uncle Glen handed down his ability to Brian.”
“What?” Maeva jolted her seat back to the upright position and stared at Sadie for a full minute without speaking.
“You think Brian inherited speaking to the dead from your uncle and then passed it along to you when he killed himself?”
Sadie slid her friend a sidelong glance before turning to stare out at the white lines on the highway.
“Yes. If Uncle Glen had it and he died while Brian was visiting, then it’s possible, right?”
Maeva tapped a finger to her chin.
“Yes. I guess it is.”
They didn’t say anything more.
Maeva drifted off to sleep as Sadie cruised the highway out of Washington and into Oregon. Sadie’s mind was more awake than after a Starbucks triple-shot latte. She could hardly wait to get to her aunt’s house.
After two and a half hours Sadie was a block from her destination. She steered down a wide residential street lined with quiet middle-class bungalows on spacious lots. Childhood memories flooded her. She remembered riding her bike down these roads, racing Dawn and Brian to the corner store to buy bagfuls of penny candy. She remembered camping in Aunt Lynn’s backyard under the stars with nothing in the yard with them except for Uncle Glen’s butterfly wood carvings that watched them from the fence boards.
She recognized the butterflies before she even noticed the small house. The one-level home looked half as big as she remembered it, but those damn butterflies, though faded from years of rain and sun, looked the same. There must’ve been forty at varying heights on the front fence that lined the driveway to the street, and more continued into the backyard. Some of them had lost the wiry antennae glued into their wooden bodies, but Sadie saw them through the eyes of her youth.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Sadie said, taking her key from the ignition.
Maeva yawned, stretched, and looked around.
“Holy crap. What’s with all the bugs?”
“My uncle carved them.”
“I don’t like bugs,” Maeva said, grabbing the tote bag at her feet and opening the car door.
“They’re not bugs,” Sadie said, opening her own door and closing it softly behind her. “They’re butterflies.”
In the dark the streetlight glinted off the metal antennae.
“Okay, maybe they’re a little freaky looking if you’re not used to them,” Sadie admitted.
“A little?” Maeva chuckled as she joined Sadie to walk up the stone path to the front door. “Are you sure your uncle didn’t think it was dead bugs he was talking to, instead of human spirits?”
At the front door, Sadie stood on tiptoe and ran the tips of her fingers along the top of the doorframe until she found the spare key that had been kept there since her childhood. She slid the key into the dead bolt, and the lock slid open easily.
They stepped inside and felt around for a light switch. The house smelled like lemon furniture polish and floor wax. The smells had her memories working overtime. She half expected her aunt and uncle to run over and give her a bear hug.
“So, what’s the plan?” Maeva asked, kicking off her flip-flops and surveying the rooms.
“I’m not sure,” Sadie admitted. She walked into the familiar open area that combined a living room and dining room. A country kitchen with rooster wallpaper was down the hall to the left. To the right, overstuffed sofas and chairs boasting faded yellow wagon-wheel patterns sat in front of an old TV.
“God, this place looks just the same as when Dawn and I visited as kids.”
“You sound surprised. When was the last time you visited your aunt?” Maeva asked.
“She’s come up to Seattle for Christmases, so I haven’t bothered to come here,” Sadie said, feeling guilty.
Maeva sat down on a sofa and put her feet up on an oak coffee table with a carved wagon-wheel wood inlay.
“This place is like stepping back in time to the age of tacky furniture,” Maeva said. “What’s the theme here? Circle the covered wagons?”
Sadie didn’t reply and she didn’t sit. Her butt still felt asleep from the long drive. Plus the more she walked around the small house, the more she felt an excited hum vibrating just under her skin.
“I’m feeling good about this. I think we might be able to reach Uncle Glen.” Sadie looked at Maeva. “Let’s do this thing.”
“Okay.” Maeva rolled her shoulders and turned her neck this way and that until the bones cracked. Then she hoisted her small tote bag and unpacked a large pillar candle, a Bic lighter, and a romance novel.
Sadie pointed to the book. “I don’t think that’s Uncle Glen’s kind of reading. I remember him as being more of a Lawrence Sanders fan.”
“This is for me. In case Uncle Glen’s stubborn about showing up, I don’t want to just sit here bored out of my mind.”
“Gotcha.”
Maeva lit the candle and a mellow vanilla scent wafted through the air. The medium settled back down on the sofa, closed her eyes, and began to hum “We’re Off to See the Wizard” from The Wizard of Oz. A small smile played on Sadie’s lips.
“Still the same ol’ song, huh?”
“Why mess with what works?” Maeva replied, and resumed humming.
Sadie knew from past experience that Maeva’s humming wasn’t about visiting Munchkins in Munchkinland or helping the Tin Man find a heart. It helped Maeva summon the dead.
After about ten minutes Maeva’s forehead had broken into a fine mist of sweat despite the fact that Sadie had cranked the air conditioner.
“No luck?” Sadie asked, breaking her friend’s spell.
“Not a thing. Sorry.” Maeva offered her a tight-lipped smile.
Sadie sat down for the first time and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. Exhaustion and crushed hope left her feeling an emotional wreck. She bit back tears.
“We’re both tired. How about if I make some coffee?” Maeva suggested, getting to her feet and walking toward the kitchen. “An infusion of caffeine will help us decide what we need to do next.”
“Maybe what we need to do next is just give up and drive back home,” Sadie said to herself.
She heard her friend opening and closing cupboard doors down the hall in the kitchen.
“You always did give up too soon,” a male voice spoke from across the room.
Sadie startled and looked to the sound of the voice. “Uncle Glen!” Sadie exclaimed, wanting to rush over and hug the old man standing next to the television.
“Yup. Even as a little girl. We’d play Monopoly and if I was beating your ass badly, you’d just want to give up.”
“Only if you were cheating,” Sadie exclaimed, a smile playing on her lips.
“I didn’t cheat, unless it was to let you win on account of you being too damn stubborn about losing.”
“I beat you fair and square. You never once let me win,” Sadie said indignantly. She closed her eyes with relief and let out a long breath. “It’s so good to see you, Uncle Glen.”
“You too,” he replied, his voice tender.
“I’m so sorry I never came to visit you at the, erm, in the—”
“Loony bin?”
Sadie cringed and her discomfort caused him to chuckle.
“That’s okay. I didn’t want visitors there and Lynn knew that. Damn depressing place what with everyone walking around talking to themselves.” He paused. “Me included.”
“About that . . .”
“I wasn’t crazy, Sadie. At least I don’t think so. I just couldn’t stop the voices inside my head. They’d only get louder if I didn’t reply to them. The docs put me on all kinds of meds. Said I was schizophrenic.”
“Were you?” Sadie asked quietly.
“No. The pills didn’t help. The docs thought they did, and that’s why they convinced Lynn to keep me there on account of she could never get me to take them at home.”
“Auntie Lynn never should’ve put you in that place,” Sadie said, feeling angry.
“Whoa, now, it sure wasn’t your aunt’s fault,” Uncle Glen said, and he waggled a finger at Sadie. “And you won’t be telling her about any of this, will you? It wouldn’t be right, her being made to feel guilty about something she couldn’t possibly understand.”
“I won’t say anything to her. I just wish I’d known that you had the gift and then I—”
“Gift?” He let out a bark of laughter. “Is that what they’re calling it these days? A gift?” He sat down on the love seat next to the sofa where she was, or actually he just kind of hovered over the cushions. “I sure as hell never thought of it as any kind of a gift. Listening to the voices of the dead was nothing but a curse. I kept it inside as long as I could. A guy I met in the institute told me when I passed it would go on to my loved ones. I sure as hell didn’t want that to happen. Especially not to Lynn.” He sighed. “But I should’ve let it go to Lynn, right? She had a good full life.” He looked over at Sadie, his face twisted in pain. “If I’d known it would go to Brian . . . and he’d kill himself because of it, I never would have—”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Sadie said. “You couldn’t help what happened.”
She felt a surge of sharp pain in her chest, thinking about how Brian would’ve thought he was crazy.
“And that’s how you ended up with it too?” he asked.
“Yes,” Sadie said.
He sighed and shook his head. “I guess I got it from my aunt Emma. They locked her away at twenty and she died inside a sanitarium after living there for nearly forty years. At least I got to live most of my life on the outside.” He pointed a finger at Sadie. “Those summers you and Dawn came to visit, those were the best of times for us. Without kids of our own, you were all we had.”
“Us and the butterflies,” Sadie joked.
“Yeah. The butterflies.” He shook his head sadly. “One for every soul I helped go over.”
Sadie looked at him with wonder and amazement.
“That’s why you made them?”
“To help me remember that besides the fact I looked crazy, I was doing a good thing with my life.”
“Wow.”
“Now, about your aunt,” he said firmly. “She’s lonely here. You need to convince her to sell this place and move to Seattle so she can see you girls and your mom and dad.”
“But she’s happy here.”
“No, she’s not. She just doesn’t want to burden anyone or feel like she’s a fifth wheel.” He nodded sharply. “Make her feel like you need her there and she’ll dump this ol’ place in a heartbeat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I want you to promise me you’ll work on your mom and dad too, so that they can convince Lynn that’s what she needs to do.”
Sadie agreed to try.
“I’m sorry about Brian,” he said softly. “I tried to warn him before the blood vessel burst inside my head. I told him all about the voices and how they might come for him and that he shouldn’t be afraid.”
“And?”
“What do you think?” He blew out a low breath. “Your brother was a young stud full of life. He thought I was crazy. And rightly so. Only those living with it know the truth.”
“I wish I’d known what he was going through. Maybe I could’ve helped him to understand. . . .”
“You probably would’ve thought he was crazy, Sadie.” At the look on her face he added, “You don’t think so, but I’m sure you haven’t told the whole world what you got going on, have you?” At the look on her face he smiled. “Nope. I didn’t think so. You know damn well not everyone gets it.” He nodded toward the kitchen, where there was the sound of running water as Maeva continued to make a pot of coffee. “You’re lucky you found a friend who gets it. The graveyards are full of those who couldn’t handle their so-called gift.” He got up and walked toward Sadie and stopped directly in front of her. “Wish I could give you a hug,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She got to her feet.
“Do it, then,” Sadie said, offering him a brave smile.
He shook his head. “Nope. I remember how it made me feel when the dead touched me. I thought I was gonna pass out or toss my lunch. I don’t want you to remember me that way.” He folded his hands neatly together and regarded his niece seriously. “Sadie, I’ve been trapped inside this house for six years. I’m tired. I need to let go.”
She nodded and tears burned the backs of her eyes.
“I can almost see him,” Uncle Glen said wistfully, his eyes distant.
“Who?”
“Brian,” he said. The edges of his shape began to shimmer. “He can’t come for me because he took his own life, but we can still be together after I let go.”
“Then go,” Sadie said firmly. “I’ll take care of Aunt Lynn. You go and take care of my brother. Tell him I love him.”
“Sorry it took me so long,” Maeva said, walking into the room with two hot mugs filled with coffee. “I found the coffee grinds, but it took forever to locate where she keeps the sugar, and you know how I hate my coffee without a couple spoons of—” She stopped short. “Shit. Why are you crying?”
It took a while for Sadie to get the words out. Maeva helped Sadie to feel relief and gratefulness that she could help her uncle move on while she got closure for herself. After they finished their coffee and cleaned up, they hit the road again.
“I need to talk to Joy,” Sadie said as her Honda rocketed down the highway back toward Seattle.
“You can call her in the morning,” Maeva said sleepily.
“I could,” Sadie agreed, digging out her cell phone. “But I’d rather talk to her now.”
Sadie punched in the number of Onyx House and was grateful that it was Joy who answered the phone instead of Tim.
“Hullo?” came the sleepy greeting.
“Sorry to be calling so late.”
“S-S-Sadie?” Joy stammered.
Sadie could hear the rustling of blankets.
“It’s nearly two in the morning,” Joy said incredulously. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you about Brian,” Sadie said. “About how he acted after he visited my uncle in Oregon.”
“That was years ago!” she exclaimed angrily. “And I’ve got to get up early tomorrow morning. If you really want to talk, we can meet for coffee later. When it’s actually daylight.”
“Just a couple questions. Do you remember Brian going to visit my uncle?”
Joy sighed.
“He didn’t s-s-set out to visit your uncle. He was on his way to S-S-Smith Rock for his annual boys’ rock-climbing weekend,” Joy said with a snort. She seemed to not approve of the outing. “He went a day early and decided to stay with your aunt and uncle.”
“And how was he when he got back?”
“Again, Sadie, that was over s-s-six years ago! How would I remember how he was?”
“Because maybe he came back different. Was he talking to himself, or, um, seeming to talk to people who weren’t there?”
Joy was quiet for so long Sadie prompted her.
“Joy? Did you hear me?”
“Look, Brian had a kind of thing going on in those last few weeks,” Joy answered. “I don’t think it’ll come as any s-s-surprise for me to tell you that he was down. Really depressed.”
“Depressed because he heard voices?” Sadie pushed.
“All I know is that I tried to get him to go to a doctor, but he wouldn’t, s-s-so I brought him here, hoping he’d find peace with himself and maybe find people who understood.”
“Obviously that was a big help,” Sadie replied snarkily.
“Look, I’m s-s-sorry your brother and my fiancé killed himself,” Joy said, biting off each syllable with anger. “But it was s-s-six years ago. I’ve moved on and you should consider just letting sleeping dogs lie.”
And that reminded Sadie of Rhea.
“One more question. Why didn’t you tell us that you were pregnant? Why didn’t you give us the opportunity to get to know Brian’s daughter?” Sadie demanded.
She was talking to air.
“She hung up,” Sadie told Maeva.
“Gee, I wonder why.” Maeva chuckled. “Ever hear of tact and diplomacy? Ever hear that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar?”
“Ever hear that he who hesitates is lost?” Sadie snapped. “I always knew that there must’ve been a big reason why Brian killed himself, and now I know what drove him to it. If she’d told him she was pregnant, maybe he would’ve snapped out of his depression. Maybe he would’ve gotten help or even just accepted that the dead talk to him and that he wasn’t going crazy.”
“Joy probably didn’t even know she was pregnant, Sadie. You can’t pin it all on her.”
Sadie’s fingers were tight on the steering wheel and tears leaked from under her lashes as she gunned the accelerator.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Maeva said.
“No, you don’t,” Sadie snapped.
“You are not your brother, Sadie,” Maeva said quietly. Then she added in a firm voice, “You know why you’ve been given this gift. You know that you help people go over. If Brian had given it half a chance, maybe he could’ve learned that too. You help people with your gift.”
“My so-called gift was handed down to me because my brother killed himself, Maeva. How can I go around happily trying to move spirits from here into the great beyond knowing that the only reason I can do it is because Brian blew his brains all over his bathroom with a gun?”
“How can you not?”