Chapter Thirty-Two – Stephanie

 

“Take it now still ain’t the time to talk about things, huh?”

“Jeff, just get off my back, okay?”

“Look, I’m just trying to make sure you’re doing okay, that’s all. Any crime in that? Or is it some new one you goddamn kids came up with?”

I sighed audibly.

“You and Ryder, y’all got into some kind of a fight, right?”

I turned and faced out the passenger side window, gripping the shotgun riding between my legs. Loaded with salt or not, Jeff had insisted I flip it around so the barrel was pointing at the floorboards.

“Right?” he asked again.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Well, you wanna talk about it? Or not?”

I didn’t reply again.

“Goddamn, you’re as prickly as Sharon ever was. You know that, right?”

“Like mother, like daughter, I guess.”

“She’d at least fucking talk to me most times, though,” he said, downshifting as we came to the bottom of the hill. “Now what happened between you two?”

I don’t know why I told him anything, I really don’t. I mean, he was practically like my dad, but even if my dad hadn’t been a two-faced piece of shit, I still wouldn’t have given him any of the gory details of my relationships. “You really wanna hear about this?”

“Of course I do. I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

“Technically, you’re my employee.”

“Bosses and employees can be friends, too.”

I sighed. “Come on, Jeff. Really?”

“Look,” he said. “Ryder might’ve saved my life last night, right? At the very least, this thing he gave me has been keeping whatever kind of crap is floating around from eating me up. I just want to know what your problem with him is, and whether or not I should be concerned. That’s all. Don’t I deserve that much?”

He had a point.

Of course, what Ryder had told me had been told in confidence, hadn’t it? He’d said so himself: he’d only confessed the truth to a few people in his life. He’d avoided relationships so they wouldn’t be horrified by him. Did I really have any right to tell Jeff that Ryder wasn’t human?

The transmission groaned, and the engine shook a little as Jeff shifted it up a gear. We hadn’t exactly reached a perfectly flat spot in the road, but it was close enough that he didn’t have to work things so hard.

“So?” he asked. “What is it?”

“He and I kissed, okay?”

“Yup,” he said. “Kinda saw that coming.”

I gave him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced over at me, his whole body bouncing from the shitty suspension of the truck. The look he gave me told me exactly what he meant by it. “Think I can’t tell when two people are attracted to each other? I’ve been working in bars longer than you’ve been alive, Steph. Y’all two looked like a couple at last call, minus the booze.”

“Well, it’s not about two people being attracted to each other,” I said.

“Sure as shit could’ve fooled me.”

“It’s not about that. Because, Ryder’s not—Ryder’s…he’s…not human.”

“Excuse me?” Jeff asked, eyes going wide. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Seemed pretty fucking human to me. What is he?”

“A shifting, or sifter, or Sufi. Something like that. He told me, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

Jeff barked out his laughter, filling the cab of the old truck till it seemed like the sound would bubble up and overflow into the back. “What the hell? You don’t even know what he is?”

“You know, you’re really taking this in stride!” I said, exasperation taking over as Jeff continued to laugh.

“Nah, I’m just laughing because I think it’s funny!”

“There’s nothing funny about this! What’s so funny?”

“You’re all upset about what he is, but you can barely even tell me!”

“He said something about silver bullets hurting him, I think.”

“So, like a werewolf?”

“Said he can turn into a giant panther.”

Jeff leaned back in his seat, eyes wide again. “Wow. Really?” A long pause. “Man, that’s kind of cool!”

“Cool?” I asked, my lips scrunched together as I gripped the shotgun between my legs more tightly. I shot him a look. “There’s nothing cool about this!”

“How is that not cool, Stephanie? The man didn’t just serve his country and doesn’t just help people? But he can turn into a giant panther, too? Tell me how that’s not cool.”

“Jeff, you haven’t seen those things stalking all over the town, though!”

“Well, he isn’t one of those things. I mean, you told me he’s turning into one, but that’s only ’cause he was doing the right thing by paying for that guy’s ticket, right? Whatever he was before, that ain’t what he is now. You said so yourself, that ticket’s to blame.”

I groaned as I looked away. “He still lied to me, Jeff. He’s still two-faced.”

“Why? Because he didn’t walk around wearing a sign on his chest that said he was different?”

“No,” I said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not that. Look, it’s just hard to explain the way I’m feeling, okay?”’

The truck leveled out as we came out of the woods and began to head into the relatively flat area surrounding Anderson’s Farm. I’d been able to see the festival, if only distantly, from up on the side of the mountain as we descended down to the shallow valley, the seas of cars and mass of people.

“Here?” Jeff asked as he began to slow the truck.

I nodded as we came up to a branch in the road, where the farm road split and veered off into opposite directions, the old, cracking pavement turning into a long, writhing snake as it disappeared in the distance. The entrance for the farms was a little ways down to our right, and the thrumming of music filled the air.

He put the truck in neutral and locked the parking brake in place, and we both climbed out onto the highway. The music seemed to grow louder as my shoes touched pavement, and Jeff slammed the driver’s side shut. “Gimme just a minute,” he said. “Just keep me covered, all right, while I get this thing ready.”

“Yeah,” I called back as he went around to the rear and started to ready the spreader. Shotgun in hand, I walked to the front of the truck and looked down the road. The light chill of the morning had finally given way to the sun, which hung high in the air over the countryside. It wasn’t hot, necessarily, but felt amazing on my cheeks. Music continued to boom from the festival, guitars wailing, drums drumming, even a set of horns getting in on the action. I pictured what it must have been like inside that place, with the cat-things falling over each other as the music blared over the speakers.

At the back of the big truck, metal clanged on metal as Jeff locked bolts into place, flipped down the tailgate, began to adjust things. “Just a little bit longer,” he called.

I paced across the front of the truck, my eyes swiveling around as I continued to be on the lookout for any sign of the cat-things. I leaned back against the hot grille of the truck, the giant pile of metal rising behind me.

I stood there, my behind half on the front bumper of the salt truck, thinking about Jeff’s reaction to my revelation about Ryder. About the way it hadn’t fazed him in the slightest. I shook my head as I thought again about those bedroom eyes of his. God, why couldn’t I just be like Jeff, and take Ryder’s confession in stride?

I closed my eyes for a moment, and the smell of cigarettes came wafting in from somewhere down the road. The scent was almost like an old flannel shirt, or a childhood blanket, swathing me and wrapping me up in its warm embrace.

“He’s a good man, honey,” Mom’s voice whispered as a familiar weight wrapped itself around my shoulder. “It doesn’t matter if he’s different. He’s still good.”

My lower lip trembled as I opened my eyes, the sun bearing down on me with all its bright glory.

Here she was, out in the open. I turned, looked her in the eye, and she looked right back with that little smile of hers dancing on her lips. Her chin was as strong as ever, and her nose scrunched up a little bit as she looked down at me. Even her blonde hair, with its streaks of gray, was pulled back into a tight ponytail like I remembered.

My heart swelled for a moment as I fell into her embrace. “Mom? Is that really you?”

“I’m here, honey,” she said, her voice distant-sounding as she hugged me more tightly. “It’s really me, baby girl.”

I sighed a bone-deep sigh of relief as she squeezed more tightly. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too, Steph,” she said, her hand coming up and smoothing the back of my hair.

We stayed like that for a moment longer, her just holding me as I breathed deeply of her familiar smell, her hand stroking my hair. To think, all it had taken to see her again was for my world to almost come to a crashing end. For everyone I knew to be in danger. For thousands of lives to be put at risk. It was almost worth it, just to see her face again.

“Mom?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“What are you even doing here?”

She laughed. “I have no idea.” She pulled back a little, hands still on my shoulders as she looked down into my eyes. She grinned. “Really, I don’t. I’ve just been here, watching over you since last night.”

“You saw Ryder, then?” I asked.

She threw her head back and laughed. “Sure did! He’s a tall glass of water, that’s for sure.”

I frowned, looked away.

“Worried about the fight you had?”

I nodded a little.

“He cares about you, too. You know that? So what if he’s a little different? He seems human enough to me. More than I can say for a lot of people I knew while I was alive.”

I laughed as she squeezed my shoulders again. “But what do I do?”

“What else do you do when you make an ass out of yourself?” she asked with a laugh. “You apologize!”

“But what if that’s not enough? I called him a monster, Mom. Told him I didn’t want to see him again.”

“Well, honey, if he can’t accept your apology, then you were probably right in the first place, and he wasn’t right for you from the get-go.” At the back of the truck, Jeff continued to lock bolts into place. She turned to look towards the tail end of the truck. “But, if you really love him, and he loves you… Think Jeff’s almost done. You two gotta hurry. You still have some work to do if you want to keep Camelot safe.”

I turned and followed her gaze. “How’d you all play into this anyways, Mom? Why’d you come back?”

No response, and the comforting pressure on my shoulders faded away.

I turned and looked back at the empty space where Sharon Kaufman had just been standing. “Mom?”

Nothing. Not a sound, not a speck of flannel. Just a lingering smell of Marlboro Reds in the air, and a tinge of regret. Why hadn’t I told her more? About how much I missed her? About how I was worried for the bar? Or how every time someone lit up one of those damn cigarettes, I still looked around to try and catch a glimpse of her? Suddenly, the shotgun in my hand felt even heavier than it had.

But, clearly, she’d been here for a couple days. Maybe she’d been able to sense those things without my even having to say them?

Off in the distance, the music lowered in volume. “How are you beautiful cats?” a woman’s voice called from the far end of the festival, and the crowd’s response rose in an indistinct tidal wave of sound, rushing through the air till it crashed down on my ears. “You ready to make some magic tonight?”

My heart nearly stopped. I recognized that voice. It was almost exactly Esther’s, just electronically booming as it came to me over the acres between us. As the music kicked in, and began to rise and undulate through the air, I pushed off the grille and went around at a run to my side of the truck. She was starting. Whatever spell was being put into motion, this was it, now.

“Old ghosts are in the air, here,” Marguerite continued. “Old ghosts that won’t rest, or take no for an answer. Spirits calling my name, all our names. Can you hear them?”

The crowd roared its approval, like a raucous cavalcade of stray cats in a back alley.

“Ready!” Jeff called, locking another bolt into place.

I was already in the cab, grabbing the hand radio off the dashboard, my fingers pressing down the button to talk. “Ryder?” I asked, the panic creeping into my voice. “Ryder, you there?”

Nothing at first. Just silence. Not even crackling. Then, I remembered I needed to take my hand off the little button. I released it, and Ryder was on the line in seconds.

“Stephanie? Talk to me. What’s going on?”

I pushed the button as I brought up the radio to my lips, spoke into the little mic. “It’s Marguerite. She’s on stage. Whatever she’s going to do, she’s doing it soon.”

“How’s the circle coming?” he asked.

“Just starting it now,” I said as Jeff pulled open the driver’s side door and climbed up into the cab. I glanced toward him as he leaned down, began to fiddle with a little black box. “Jeff’s been getting the spreader set.”

After turning a few different dials, he gave me a thumbs-up of approval.

I nodded. “We’re ready,” I said into the radio.

“Just a few minutes out on our end,” Ryder replied. “Esther’s saying we’ll be at the gate in about five minutes. You guys get that circle drawn, okay?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. Mom’s words loomed in the back of my mind, reminding me that he was a good person, even if he wasn’t entirely human. My own words echoed back to me from the past, though. Hateful words I’d yelled at him. Monster, telling him to leave town and never come back.

“Stephanie?” Ryder asked over the phone. “You there?”

I clicked the button down, Mom’s words about love and forgiveness playing through my head, and opened my mouth to say something. To tell him to be careful. To tell him good luck. To tell him I cared about him. But, most importantly, to say I was sorry.

“Yeah,” was all I could muster, though. “Yeah. I’m here. We’ll get it drawn.”

My fingers slipped from the button, my heart sinking. I should have said something. Anything except for that.

Beside me, Jeff threw the truck into gear and released the brake, and we were off at a slow pace. Rather than taking off, though, we slowly began to roll forward at an easy pace. We were pouring salt, after all, not trying to win a race.