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Andy

Holier Than Thou.

We skip down the sunny street, cradling jugs of holy water in our arms with proud smiles adorning our faces.

“I’m surprised he even thought of giving it to us after your insanely ‘holy’ display of gratitude.” I snort, readjusting the weight of the jar in my elbow.

“What do you mean? I was nothing but kind and holy to him.” Andy replies, looking shocked.

“You offered to let him take nude pics of you, that’s anything but holy.” I sigh, grinning.

He laughs, then becomes thoughtful. “Why do you think he gave us the water, though?... I mean, I didn’t exactly make a good impression and he didn’t look too happy to see you again. How did he know we weren’t just trouble?”

I shrug, “I guess he figured two troubled kids wouldn’t go to this much effort to get help from a church if they were going to use the holy water in a bad way.”

He nods in agreement. “Man, think of how bad he would have shit himself if there’d been two of us. Ashley, you should have come in.”

Ashley had been awfully quiet since we left the church, walking three feet to our left, looking troubled and lost in his thoughts. He didn’t look up or respond.

Andy hummed in thought and leaned close to my ear. “Is he okay?”

I shrug, “He’s probably just worried about tonight.”

He thinks about that and nods when it’s a good enough answer to sate his curiosity. “Probably.”

We’re three hours from sunset, and the sun is already gathering near the horizon on a bed of pastel pink and orange clouds. This is the most peaceful Pendant has been in weeks. Looking around now, there’s not too much evidence of the flood. The water has dried up in the streets and volunteers have been picking up the litter while I’ve been off chasing mythical creatures through the forest.

“Have you heard any updates on Hampton Bridge?” I wonder.

He nods a bit, “I overheard the boys’ coach saying they’ll be draining the river this Friday to assess the bridge for repairs. They’ve gotten power lines back up in 25% of the valley already.”

“At least they’re making progress... This is the worst weather disaster Pendant has ever seen.”

“It’s pretty odd, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it; I show up and change a string of natural events taking place around town, and suddenly there’s strange weather patterns and Pendant’s bone-bed is waking up with angry demons seeking flesh.”

“Oh no, those are normal events.” I shake my head in disagreement, sarcasm in my voice. “Yes, it’s definitely concerning. And if there is anything I have learned from knowing you and Ashley - it’s that absolutely anything and everything is possible.”

We turn onto my street and my house comes into view; the last one on the left side of the street before the road leads out of town into unexplored forest land... The road that goes right past that abandoned farm house.

When I was young, that place often felt like a second home. I don’t remember how my parents came upon it (or why they thought it was okay to trespass for our weekend picnics) but it has always been such a special place to me.

Now Apture feels like the decaying remains of the people killed there by the owner. Did Charlie Apture feel anything in his heart as he led people to their doom? Or was it just bleak darkness consuming his soul as he sliced up innocent people he had lured in and buried them deep in the woods, tainting the ground and turning it into the Dead Zone.

I shudder to think of how many afternoons I had spent there alone. In hindsight, I do remember always feeling this underlying level of discomfort; an odd feeling of always being watched and followed, no matter what room of the collapsing farmhouse you entered.

Hell, I even fell asleep there, once... When I opened my eyes and found that the warm, welcoming sunshine had gone and I was left under the cover of a star-lit night, I felt anything but comfortable near that house.

What I wouldn’t give to have my mind wiped of all that I have learned about Apture Road and the house that rests upon the hill beside it. I just want to remember those muggy summer days with my parents when we hiked up there and sat in the crumbling living room on the same old milk crates I sat on with Andy over four and a half weeks ago.

My parents were happier people then, too... Though they had more reasons to be. They were happily married with a five-year-old daughter and another one on the way and they lived in the perfect little town offering endless possibilities for their family. Now that house just feels cold and my parents (albeit loving and compassionate) feel distant from not only each other but from me. Losing Talia really killed something inside the both of them.

I kick a pebble across the ground, listening to it skid and clatter against the concrete before tumbling into the neighbor’s yard.

I wonder what Talia might’ve been like... She would be five years younger than me, now. A bright, charismatic twelve-year-old who could see through me and read me better than anybody.

What would she think of all of this? Would she also be friends with Andy? And would she be a better friend to Ashley than me? Would she look and act like me? Would she be popular and always fall into the first-chosen category at school?

So many questions...

“Where’d you go?” Andy nudges my arm and I stumble over a bit, stepping in a puddle.

I grimace and shake my foot to get off the excess water droplets. “I’m here.”

“You’re here, but you’re not.” He disagrees, “What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you later, okay?”

He hesitates and stares me down for a moment, sharp blue eyes taking in the details of my expression, before nodding in agreement. “Okay.”

I begin to fish my house keys out of my pocket when I notice my mother’s car is already in the driveway. “She’s home early.” I note quietly, proceeding to the front door.

We walk into the foyer and close the door just loud enough to get her attention. “Ash? Is that you?” she called from the kitchen.

“Head on up to the guest room, I’ll be there in a bit.” I nudge them both towards the stairs and head for the kitchen.

“You’re late - something hold you up?” She asks, glancing up at me briefly from the island in the middle of the kitchen. I redirect my attention to the little digital clock on the stove and restrain a wince. I’m almost an hour late of my normal return time. I shrug, “I just took my time home.”

“Really?” She sounds unconvinced, and stares me down with a pressuring stare. “I got a call an hour ago from your principle saying you were downed in volleyball.”

“Yeah, took a hit to the face. Wasn’t too bad, though...”

“He said you made a miraculous recovery from potentially broken nose to flawless face in under a few minutes. Do you have a secret talent for resetting broken bones?” She is semi-joking, but also concerned.

“Through all the blood and panic, it looked worse than it was.” I shrug, pulling out a chair from the island and taking a seat to look over her work laid out in front of her.

She let it go with a sigh and busied herself with pinning small multicolored pins in the sleek white fabric, careful not to bunch it up. Her brow is creased in concentration and there are stands of hair falling free from her messy bun.

“So what project is this?” I inquire, nodding towards it, watching her work for a few more seconds before hopping down from my chair to make a cup of tea.

She doesn’t seem to hear me, far too caught up in the careful task of piercing the minty colored fabric with tiny pins.

Mom looks pretty excited about this new dress commission she’s received. I watch her work until the water is bubbling on the stove, then I pour it over the deep green tea bag waiting in the mug and stir it thoroughly. I sat back at the island, slowly stirring my late-afternoon tea with a striped green straw, deciding to offer a different question.

“What’s the design going to look like?”

“The bodice is constructed of aged white lace, and it crosses behind the lower back, and crosses again in the front to form off-shoulder sleeves.” she says with proud enthusiasm coloring her tone.

She taps her latest blueprint with the eraser of her pencil, her eyes bright and excited. I was more interested in her child-like joy. I smile, and look down at the sketch she’d done while I was gone. It had a long flowing style skirt with a lacey petticoat underneath. The skirt in a light, gorgeous mint blue color, which goes nicely in the browned lace bodice.

“Who is it for?” I ask her, not seeing any specific details on her sketch to tell me one way or another who it belongs to.

“Remember your Kindergarten teacher, Miss. Bloom? She’s getting married this Saturday.”

“Really?” I echo in surprise. I hadn’t thought of her in a long time, even though she is among my favorite teachers.

“Yes, she also invited us to come down for the open house afterward.”

“Wait, this Saturday?” I furrow my brow in thought, “Will you have it done in time? That’s two days from now.”

“With the help of coffee and two all-nighters, yes.” She smiles proudly and I admire her determination.

“Why did she decide to wait until the last possible moment to order a dress from you?”

She shrugs, cocking her head a bit to get a better look at her work, “She said it was a spur of the moment decision. I guess when you’re so in love with someone, logic and thought goes out the window.” She chuckles, “That happened to me when I met your father. We both came from very different backgrounds but were willing to throw everything aside for an immediate life together. We didn’t care about the obstacles an immediate marriage would bring.”

I thought about that in silence for a bit, trying to imagine my mother as the classic tourist walking into the place my father worked, maybe asking for directions or help with something - her brilliant green eyes catching his attention and holding it for a whole eighteen years.

“Anyways, I don’t mind. Between the prom dresses I have to put together and odd jobs, I enjoy wedding dresses the most. Hey, have you got a date to the prom?”

“Actually, I do.”

“Really? Who?”

“Oh... CC’s...” I trail off, wracking my mind for an idea “Cousin asked me.”

“Cousin?” She echoes, narrowing her eyes at me slyly. “I didn’t know he had a cousin.”

“Who doesn’t?” I chuckle, trying to cover up the nerves in my voice. “Anyways, I didn’t, either... Until I realized he goes to the same school as me - that’s where we met.”

“Love at first sight.”

I feel my cheeks darkening and shake my head, “No, it isn’t like that...”

She snorts and laughs, causing me more embarrassment. “It never starts out like that, hun... It’s always a simple, easy friendship that sets it off, and after a while you’ll realize you were wrong about what you initially felt. Life has a weird way with emotions.” She shrugs, carefully peeling back a layer of mint fabric to tuck it into a ruffle.

“One minute you’re just friends forced to prom together, and before you know it, I’m here making a dress for a wedding in two days.” She cracks a smile and I return it to her, then frown.

“This Saturday?”

She nods.

“I have plans already.”

“Like what?” She looks bothered that I have a social life outside attending her clients’ many weddings and special gatherings. This really catches her attention. She perches her hands on her hips.

I bite on my lip, trying to find a way to word the outing without mentioning my ghosts. “Jinxx, Jake, CC, and Elizabeth. We’re all going to Talia lake on Saturday.”

This is news to her, as I expected it to be. I figured I could excuse myself for the afternoon and say I was with a friend, but at this time, truth is crucial. She frowns a bit, but nods anyways. “What are you doing out there?”

“Definitely not drinking,” I confirm before she can begin to lecture me. “Swimming, fishing, normal lake activities... Besides, it’s going to the warmest day in weeks.”

There’s discomfort in her expression, but she sighs. “Okay... I mean, I’m fine with it, but you’ll need to ask your father.”

“He’ll blow his engine over it.” I mumble, pinching the tip of the green straw between my fingers.

“At least let him know where you’ll be,” She says with that parental authority in her tone.

“Right...” I nod and sigh,

She smiles and places her hand on my shoulder. “I know you’re old enough to make good decisions.” She says, pride coloring her tone, “I know you will.”

I frown a bit, thinking of all the wrong decisions I had made. “I hope so.” I murmur.

“Anyways,” she claps her hand on my back dismissively, sensing the tension. “The reception is at 7:00 in the evening. I guess it’s up to you if you want to go.”

There’s a look of pride in her eyes that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I guess it’s justified, considering I rarely hung out with anyone due to my social awkwardness, and now here I am, going and making friends at funerals and going to beach parties with them. I’m a real over-achiever

“So, how have they been? Since the funeral?” She inquires, not sounding nosey at all.

“Who?”

“Jake, CC, and what’s his name? Jack?”

“Jinxx.”

She looks at me like I’ve just spoken Latin.

“His real name is Jeremy.” I clarified with a nod and she looks relieved that no one in the vicinity of Pendant would name their child Jinxx.

“Right, how have they been handling it?”

I pick at my nail polish in deep thought. “They’ve been pretty good... All things considered. Did you know they lost their bassist seven years ago after he committed suicide?” I frown, “They were all so close in high school.”

“Really? No, I didn’t know that... He, ah, how?”

“Jumped into the Hampton River...” I wince sheepishly, trying not to sound like someone ripping a band-aid off a hairy arm. “Apparently Andy felt pretty guilty about it because he had texted him telling him he needed to talk to somebody, and he didn’t get the text until the next morning.”

She doesn’t respond, as I predicted. You can’t launch into a conversation about your new group of friends by telling your mother that one of them committed suicide as the opening sentence.

“Apparently, it’s what changed Andy’s mind and made him better himself.”

I look at her, and her gaze is distant and wide eyed.

“What?”

“The boy on the bridge...” She breathes the words like they’re a curse, eyes glassy and distant. Her look alone is enough to launch my heart into my throat in distress and fear “He was the boy on the bridge?”

“What boy on the bridge?” I shake my head in confusion, and she sighs.

“There was an article about it years ago in the newspaper, it talked about a boy who had fallen into the river in the middle of the night. They didn’t call it suicide, though, they said it was foul play. Ah, what was his name?...

She thinks long and hard, searching her brain for the information while I sit there trying to control the violent pounding of my heart.

“Ash- Asher? No, it was some weird name... Ashley! His name was Ashley, right?”

My heart skips a beat and speeds up in a panic. I nod slowly, not sure how to add to her revelation.

“Huh... I didn’t know it was related. That’s a shame.” She frowns, looking genuinely saddened. “I can’t even begin to think what his parents went through... If we ever lost you Ash, we...” She shakes her head, eyes misted over with unimaginable grief. “You are our whole life.”

All the more reason I have to stay alive and get that jar done... If I also turn up mysteriously dead, it’s a matter of time before authorities announce a ravenous killer is on the loose.

“Well, anyways,” She sighs and takes a long pause to organize her thoughts. “I hope your friends find peace. Losing two of your dearest friends cannot be easy. My heart goes out to them.”

~~~


I shut Ashley’s door behind me and press my back against it, looking at him and Andy sitting on the bed, the wrapped package resting on the mattress between them. They look up at me as I enter, then back at it. It’s still bound up tightly in brown, fraying twine, and looks extremely ominous just laying there, waiting for one of us to grow a set and open it.

“Are we going to do this?” Ashley asks, nodding towards it, strands of his inky black hair falling free from where his sunglasses perched atop his head, holding most of his wild, layered-do at bay. He eyes the parcel with dark eyes, curiosity and fear swimming within them.

I’m not sure why we can never have our discussions in my room where it’s actually normal for me to be caught. If my Mom were to open that bedroom door for one reason or another, I am royally screwed, and all out of ideas for excuses. Nonetheless, I neglect my safety and walk towards the bed, sitting cross-legged at the head of the meeting.

“I feel like we should bless it first. Just in case.”

Ashley groans, but doesn’t make any verbal objections.

“Are you sure? Will that affect it’s power?”

I frown and grit my teeth, mentally arguing with myself over my next course of action. “...Maybe.” I sigh, agreeing.

I reach for the package and rest my palms on the brown paper enveloping it. Under the thin paper coating, I can feel the edges of swirling designs cut crudely into the leather cover. I press my fingertips into the paper, trying to put together an image in my head.

“Might as well open it, we’re all going to Hell anyways.” Ashley mutters, slowing ripping the corner of his cigarette carton to pieces in his hands, his eyes locked on the book in my hands.

I wait a few moments before reaching up to gingerly grab the ends of the frayed brown twine tied in a neat little bow in the center. I tug on them until the bow slips loose and the string lays limply around the book.

“Do you think there’s a chance that old woman tricked us and gave us something cursed?” I wonder idly, tapping the piece of masking tape holding down the edge of the paper.

“There’s a chance, I guess.” Andy shrugs, looking down at it. “But what other choices do we have but to take a chance?”

“True.” I murmur, “Here and now; are we doing this?”

I look both of them in the eyes and after some hesitation, they each nod in encouragement. I swallow hard and look down, and slowly pull up the strip of tape.

The book easily unrolls out of it’s paper coffin. I roll it over carefully, guiding the paper off. Underneath it, the reddish brown leather cover becomes visible.

“What the hell is that?” Ashley is the first to speak, staring down at it in angered disbelief. “A fucking cookbook?!”

Sure enough, the cover is engraved with illustrations of mushrooms, carrots, and tomatoes, with a grand swirling font reading Comfort Foods - First Edition. I feel my heart stop beating and everything holds still. I go from being confused and scared to angry and terrified.

“Is she fucking serious?...” I mutter, rolling the book over, reading the description on the back. “She gave us a goddamned cookbook?!”

It’s stupid to cry over a book, I know, but I couldn’t help the angry, frustrated tears that bordered my lower lids. I roughly shove the hideous book away from myself and hop down from the bed, anxiously pacing a trail into the white carpet, my face buried in my hands as my screams are muffled.

They stare down emotionlessly that that stupid book, looking like they’re on the verge of either crying to starting World War III.

“That bitch set us up to die!” Ashley hisses angrily, sending a chill-inducing glare down at the cookbook lying proudly on the center of the bedspread.

“She saw us all there and saw easy targets for some stupid game! Goddammit! We’re fucked!” Andy shouts, roughly getting down from the bed, snatching the book and holding it in a white-knuckle grip.

Ashley shouts a string of profanities and grits his teeth. We’re all expressing our frustration and anger in the only way we know how; by breaking down and admitting defeat.

“Well that bitch can have her fucking book back. She can go dig it out of the goddamned mire for all I care.” He marches to the window overlooking the backyard and wrenches open the glass, looking down in the yard before winding his arm back, sending it sailing through the air above the house without a second thought.

We all watched it twist and roll through the air, the pages fluttering in the wind as it made it’s slow tumble back to Earth.

It hits the ground, pages open towards the sky, lying several feet away from the back deck. Eventually one of the woodland creatures would drag the damn thing off to make a nest with.

We all got a small bit of satisfaction from watching the thing be launched from the second-story window, but nowhere near the satisfaction, we might’ve had knowing that our hides were saved and we’d be okay.

Notes

Hello all!

I've been keeping busy, but here's this!

I started watching Riverdale a few days and have become a bit obsessed with it... Does anyone else watch it?

Comments

I just want to say, I am here to support you no matter what you do <3

Mezzy18 Mezzy18
4/12/20

Oh gosh, I'm getting weird vibes towards this "sketchy" part of town.

Mezzy18 Mezzy18
5/8/19

I am absolutely in love with this book!

Mezzy18 Mezzy18
4/30/19

Poor Ashley. Poor Andy. Poor Asheen. Wow, what a story! :)

Merelan Merelan
4/29/19

I am conspiring so many theories about this book my head hurts... lol... anyway, great chapter as usual! Can't wait to read what happens next

Mezzy18 Mezzy18
4/25/19