Down the Well, page 6
This was different.
This was real.
Before Lore could spout off anything else, the sound of gravel kicking up the driveway got her attention. Out the front window, she could see her aunt’s absurdly-sized black SUV.
“Great,” Lore muttered, playing with the charm bracelet.
“That the aunt that used to waitress at the country club before she met her city-slicker husband at said country club?” Maccon asked.
“Yup.” Lore rolled her eyes. “Only aunt I have.”
Lore got up from the couch and walked to the screen door. “Let’s go get this over with.” Her voice sounded as bitter as her tears had tasted.
Maccon followed her out.
Her aunt’s bleached hair sat in a neat low bun, and a large-brimmed black beach hat sat atop her head like the cap of a mushroom whose stem was a bit too slender to hold it up. She closed the passenger door and adjusted her black lace gloves as she looked up to see Lore.
“Oh, there she is!” she called, her thin lips curled into a smile that made Lore’s fists clench.
Lore liked to call her aunt’s tone ‘sham chic,’ all hollow words and empty promises.
“Hi, aunt Caraline.” Lore’s voice was flat, and her eyes uninterested.
The driver stayed in the car as her aunt clicked over to Lore and Maccon in her six-inch pumps.
The sound of two more doors slamming shut felt like a casket top closing over Lore. Her cousins.
They used to all play well together, but as they got older and her cousins became more aware of their familial wealth, the more they teased and shunned her.
“How you been, baby?” her aunt asked as she reached over to brush Lore’s braid off her shoulder.
Lore huffed as she threw her braid back over her shoulder. She liked the way it felt when it fell in front of her chest. Her eyes narrowed. “Been better.”
Her aunt’s beady eyes darted over Maccon as she laughed. “I see you landed yourself a fine young man.”
Lore rolled her eyes, and Maccon laughed nervously.
“Actually, we’re just friends.” Lore’s voice didn’t hide her annoyance.
“Best friends, actually,” Maccon added.
Her twin cousins peered out from behind their mother. Looking Maccon up and down like he was some show pony that their daddy could buy for them.
Lore’s brow furrowed.
“Well, isn’t that lucky for us?” her cousin purred through bubblegum-painted lips.
“I’d say so.” The other sister dropped her large square sunglasses down her nose to get a better look. “Unless they’re friends-with-benefits or something.” She gestured as if Lore and Maccon couldn’t hear the way they were being talked about.
Lore grit her teeth. “Really? On the day we spread grandma’s ashes?”
Her aunt’s thin lips pulled tight as she tried her best to give a sweet smile. “Girls, girls,” she mused, “your cousin is right, you know. We are here to mourn our loss today.” She pulled a white tissue from her small clutch and dabbed her face.
“Wiping away sweat rather than tears, I see.” Lore almost couldn’t believe the words that fell from her mouth, but the growing heat in her face assured her she’d spoken.
Her aunt squinted her eyes a bit as she clutched the tissue. “You think you’re a clever girl, don’t you?” Her words were like a sharp edge of a knife dancing along Lore’s forearm, inviting her to continue.
If it wasn’t for Maccon, she may have just waltzed into the blade.
“My mom always says during the darkest moments,” her friend said, “the worst can sway us to do things that may be out of character.” His eyes looked over Lore, before returning his gaze to her relatives. “But it’s important to remember that these dark moments aren’t permanent and each of us can share a light from within to see the group through.” He nodded, pleased he could piece his mother’s words together to a tee. “We each have a candle. Everyone’s candle is a different color and has a unique scent, but alone we just have a candle. Together, we have a glorious fire.”
Her aunt nodded and adjusted her gloves once more. “Well, on a lighter note…” She sniffled a bit. “I have good news that could act as a candle of light during this dark time of mourning.”
Lore’s face was still flat as she said, “Uh huh.”
By now, Lore’s mother was on her other side. “Oh, what’s the news?” she pushed a bit too eagerly for Lore’s taste.
“Well, girls, should I tell them, or do you want to?” The twins went to open their mouths, but then their mother’s voice continued. “Oh, you both are right, I’ll tell them.”
Lore watch as her cousins’ faces fell, and she’d be lying if she said their disappointment didn’t put her in a better mood.
“The twins were accepted into Oakwick University!” Her aunt beamed with pride.
Not a surprise. They can go on daddy’s dollar.
“That’s wonderful! Isn’t that an Orchid League school?” Lore’s mother mused.
Her aunt’s lips curled up into another unsettling smile. “It is, indeed.” Her eyes slithered across until her gaze landed on Lore. “Do tell—which school have you made it into?”
“Oh,” her mom’s voice faltered a bit. “Lorette hasn’t really had the time to look into such things.” Her mother then did her best to compare a walnut that’s kicked around the forest floor to a juicy peach. “But she does have her first job.”
“Oh, and what job is fit for such a clever girl like you?” her aunt inquired.
Lore said nothing, but her face felt hotter than before and a fire burned within her gut. Before right as she was going to spit out a retort, Maccon’s firm but gentle grip clasped her shoulder as he directed her to go stand by her father.
“Hey,” he whispered.
She whipped her head up to him. “Really?! Your mom’s candle spiel?”
His face scrunched. “I was try’n’a diffuse the situation?”
“That was good for when we fought over something stupid as kids. Not for family squabbles.”
Maccon’s expression softened. “I don’t really think you’re mad at me for trying to diffuse the situation. I think you’re mad at your family.”
She ignored him and crossed her arms, glaring out into the open field. Her cousins’ giggles and clicking of their texting on their sidekick phones ate away at her eardrums as they approached. Lore’s family had not been together since her tenth birthday.
Her friend’s hand rubbed her upper back as he leaned down to her ear. “Don’t worry about them. Okay, Fire Flower? Let’s make this as special as we can for your Mamó.”
Lore wiped a pesky tear from her cheek. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
He was right, though. I’m not mad at him. I’ll have to apologize later.
The sky was a light pastel blue, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. The breeze tenderly rustled the treetops of the forest line and, if not for current circumstances, it would have been the start of a perfect day.
Her father and aunt sat in the lawn chairs Mamó put out every summer. Her mother shuffled around in front of her aunt and father, holding the white ceramic urn. It was rather plain and thoroughly unsuited for someone as vibrant as Mamó. Lore, Maccon, and her awful twin cousins stood behind the adults.
“Thanks for making the long trip up, Caraline,” Rebecca said meekly.
Her aunt waved modestly.
Lore’s dad frowned. “I’d hope she’d be able to spare a few hours’ drive to spread her mother’s ashes.” His words seethed with aliving hatred. “She can’t hurt her image of being the ideal everything, so of course, she’s here.”
Lore didn’t agree with her father on much, but this was a sentiment she could get behind.
No one said anything. Only the spring breeze rustled the daffodils infant of them.
“Let’s get on with it, then.” Her dad cracked open another beer.
The whispers of her cousins made Lore gritted her teeth against each other as their hushed words echoed in her ears.
“Drunk.”
“Reeks of booze. You think he showers?”
One flipped her strawberry hair as her pair adjusted her beach hat. Then they continued to whisper ill of her dad.
She felt her palms beg her nails to stop digging into them. He is a drunk—and yeah, he may only shower a few times a week—and he is an all-around terrible dad. She could feel her face become flush with anger. But he is my father and if anyone is gonna talk about what a piece of shit he is, it’s me. No one else.
As her cousins stood there whispering, clicking their tongues, and blowing bubbles with bright pink gum. They were completely oblivious to Lore’s feelings. That, or they just didn’t pay Lore any mind. A toss-up, really.
Suddenly, a shadow caught her attention from the corner of her eye. The figure’s tall ears stood alert. In front of everyone. Her heart felt like an icicle had stabbed it. Her eyes darted to look at Maccon, then to her aunt and father. Did they not see him? He was right there!
Its golden eyes appeared to glow in the sunlight, disappearing briefly when the figure winked at her, driving the icicle of grief deeper. It had split her heart without care or precision. Then the shadowy creature darted between her dad and aunt.
Toward her.
The shadow felt like nothing more than a sudden gust of wind, and her wrist suddenly felt lighter. She looked down and saw it was now bare. Her jaw clenched, and she whirled to see the shadow dashing behind her grandmother’s cabin.
She wished she had been the type of person to just save face. Just turned her cheek and tried to enjoy what she could. But she wasn’t that person. Her feet were already carrying her away from her family and the field of yellow flowers.
She heard the heavy footsteps of Maccon behind her before he spoke. “Where are you going?”
Half of her desperately wanted to chase after this shadow creature. The other half yearned to stay with her friend, her personal ray of sunshine.
“The bathroom,” she lied. “I’ll be back. Just need a few.” She didn’t turn to see his sad puppy dog face she was certain he was making.
“Okay,” he sighed. The sound of his steps halted.
Maccon drove up to see her. Ready to be a blanket of comfort. And yet, her feet continued to take her farther and farther away from those tethering her to this miserable place. Her eyes felt like bees had stung them, and her throat felt like a swollen lump.
Mamó gave me that bracelet. It’s mine. And this thing can’t just take it.
It had already taken her.
The creature sat atop the blue brick well behind the cabin. Dancing along the rim, taunting Lore.
“Give it back,” she spat.
The shadow held out empty hands and rocked back and forth on its heels. As if to say its pockets were empty.
“I know you took it,” she said through gritted teeth. “You took it and you took her!” she yelled.
The creature held up a single finger to Lore, signaling her to wait, then pulled out the charm bracelet and dangled it over the well.
“You vile little thing!” She launched herself at the creature, who, quicker than a fly to shit, gracefully leaped to the other side of the stone rim.
Lore stayed there, wisps of her hair falling around her face from her braid, arms hanging over the edge of the well.
The creature waved a finger at her again and held the bracelet over the water once more.
“Don’t!” Lore snapped. But her bark was empty, no bite to back it up.
And the shadow seemed to know that.
Time slowed as the figure loosened its grip on the thick chain.
When she reached up to grab the creature, Lore felt like she was moving through water. Her hand wrapped tightly around the shadow as she stood. It’s not that big. I can take it in a fight.
The shadow wrapped its other hand around hers and smirked, flashing a single white fang, making her curse her last thought.
The chill of a cold winter’s night shot down her spine.
“No,” she mouthed, terrified.
The shadow said nothing. Just winked a golden eye and, with the strength of ten men, pulled Lore down the well.
NINE
The crisp water nipped at Lore’s cheeks, reminding her of how church grannies pinched the cheeks of young kids. She snapped her eyes open, but her sight was useless in the dark waters of the well. She felt the weight of the shadowy figure still gripping tightly onto her wrist, now an unwanted anchor. Her limbs flailed as she tried to swim back up to the surface. But the pressure of the water made her limbs move slower and soon they, too, felt heavy.
Her vision tunneled as her lungs begged for air. Right as she danced along unconsciousness, her body erupted from the icy water of the well, and her body thudded against a hard surface. Lore raised her head, but her neck felt like a slice of jello, so she quickly lowered it again and rested her cheek against the gray, smooth cobblestone. As her eyes fought to stay open, she could only think of one thing. That damned shadow.
She sighed through gritted teeth and tried to summon any remaining strength. Lore steadied herself on all fours, her arms trembling under her own weight. Her eyes drifted down again to see the bracelet Mamó gave her was gone. Her heart was in her throat and she wanted to wail and scream, but only silent tears fell from her face. Lore pushed herself up to rest on her legs, her face turned toward a familiar night sky. It was exactly the same as she had always seen it since a child. Until she saw the stars were no longer stark white on a canvas of black and blue. Some looked to have made swirling patterns, and others clusters of green, white, purple, and orange dots. Beautiful.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the shadow creature scurry off to a cliff face adorned with a garland of mangled trees.
What really caught her attention, though, was the pair of moons hanging in the sky. One was so large and close it was like she could reach out. Maybe if she jumped, she could touch it. The other moon was more familiar to her, far away and like one she’d see on a clear summer’s night.
The breeze carried a conversation on it. It swirled around her, and the echo of voices seemed to raise her spirits.
Lore rose to her feet, careful to steady herself on the well as her fingers gripped the painted brick. She rested her weight against the wooden post that held up its little roof. “Where am I?” she muttered between ragged breaths.
Wait a damn minute.
Lore slowly looked around her. Old vintage street lamps flickered in the night. They were tall, slender poles. The glass compartments encasing the flames were like little heads atop bodies, and the piece covering the glass looked like a tiny metal crown of sorts.
The cobblestone reached under what appeared to be some business stalls lining the outer rim surrounding the well. Little flags and banners flapped along with dried leaves in the frigid night air.
Beyond the stalls were little stone buildings whose roofs were so vibrant Lore could see the colors pop in the dim lighting. The roofs varied from rich purples to bright greens. Their slopes and pitches were a little unnatural. That can’t be structurally sound.
Lore stepped forward a bit and furrowed her brow. What kind of messed up dream is this?
Sounds of merriment and cheer continued riding the chilled breeze. The wind sent goosebumps down her arms.
Right, people. I need to find the people.
She untied Maccon’s green flannel from around her waist and scrunched her nose. Sopping wet. As she slid her arms into the flannel, giving her some sort of coverage, it hit her. I told him I’d be right back. She whirled around to face the wishing well. I’ve got to go back.
But if recalling what she told Maccon was a hit to her gut, what she saw next was being hit by a train. No. that’s not right. The only similarity between the well in Mamó’s backyard and this one was the little wooden roof. The paint here wasn’t peeling. In fact, it looked like it was done within the last few days. She carefully ran a hand along the beaming orange bricks, her fingertips dipping over what appeared to be a diamond-shaped crack in the center of a brick. How peculiar.
Another gust blew. This time, the wind carried in an awful howl. She turned, not sure where to begin her search for people. Then her eyes darted around the shopping square. The lamp had changed, but just slightly. The curved decorative pieces of metal no longer mirrored each other as if its hands were resting on its hips. Now, the left iron bar pointed to an alley. Lore looked at it and said, “thanks,” not thinking twice about it. As she slipped through the small space between the wooden market stalls and walked down the pocket of space between the building. The flickering lantern used the other, more rusted, metal arm to tip its “crown” to her back.
She took a quick turn down the dark alley, following the sounds of laughter. Even if they don’t help me, maybe I can piece together some sort of sense to all this.
She halted in her steps as the smell of beer and fried food filled her nose. Then she saw it from the little alleyway she was emerging from, a neon sign waving in the night. It read DINA’S PUB & ENTERTAINMENT in an unforgettable shade of neon pink. The twins would love that color.
Lore crept to peek into a window of the building. Her breath hitched as she rubbed her arms with cold, pink hands. The only sound her body made was the loud and slow beat of her heart ramming against her chest. The sight made her stumble backward. What the—no, no—it has to be exhaustion. I’m hallucinating or something. She peered back into the window. Thick smoke swirled like grey clouds inside the building. The little puffs that found their way out the window made Lore’s eyes itch and her throat dryer than a dessert.
Inside, a handful of busybodies rushed around. Other figures sat admiring the sultry voice paired with the slow dancing of the vixen on the stage. Tall hats towered over the smoke clouds, and long trench coats swept the floor from the backs of chairs. Everything about this scene would have been normal, aside from the smoke caking the back of her throat.
But what made all this even harder to swallow was that there were no people at all. They were animals. The whole lot.
