Strange folk, p.28
Strange Folk, page 28
“What are you doing here?”
Lee studied the bony creature. “You know why I’m here.”
Dreama bared her small teeth. “Well you ain’t welcome.”
Lee felt Dreama’s psychic force attempting to eject her from her internal world. Lee’s body began to rise and become immaterial, but she dug in her heels. Dreama was weaker now, and Lee had honed her gift.
Dreama grunted and turned back toward the fire.
“It’s time to put it out.”
“No!” Dreama put herself between Lee and the flames and hunched over it like a mother protecting her young.
“It’s the only way to keep you from doing more harm. You’ll still be a person. You’ll still be able to do anything a person can do.”
“That ain’t nearly enough,” she spat.
“If you keep going this way, you’re going to lose yourself completely. Let’s put it out while you’re still here.”
Dreama stood and stared at Lee. “I see what you’re playing at. You want to be the only Buck witch in town. Well, no fucking way. It’s time for you to leave.”
She attempted to eject Lee again, this time with more force, but Lee was able to hang on.
Dreama cried out in frustration and charged at Lee like a wild animal. Lee caught her at the forearms and held her away from her as she flailed. Through her rough, bony limbs, she sensed yet another opening. Something deeper and more secret, like a portal to the center of the earth.
She didn’t step in so much as descend.
She sank into a place so dense that it was like hovering in the middle of a peach pit. The force surrounding her was strong and familiar, but hard to place at first for its ubiquitous, smothering power. She had never felt emotion with such density, inhaling its most concentrated chemical, right in the atomic middle of its surge. It was pure, uncut shame.
And then, there was a memory materializing around Lee.
Dreama lay on a sofa bed in their room at the Red Roof Inn. She could hear the thud of the bed against the wall of the locked bedroom. After a while, the banging stopped, and she heard a deep voice. Uncle Hank.
At first her mom had snuck him in late at night when she thought Dreama and Earl were asleep. But now, she didn’t seem to care if they knew or not. He came at all hours—early in the morning, or at lunchtime, or after dinner. Mama could be obsessive about the things she loved; at one time, she had been obsessed with Dreama and Earl. The force of her attention had almost been too much. Then she’d moved on to God, the church, and the moonshine they served like communion. And then, when Hank started attending the services with her, it became all about Hank. Her world revolved around him; Dreama wasn’t sure she knew they were there most of the time.
Through the wall, she heard Mama say, “Let’s just run away.”
“You mean for the weekend?” he asked.
“No, I mean forever. No kids or wives. No bills. Just you and me. Living the lives we always wanted, far away from this town.”
They were quiet for a bit. “Okay. Let’s do it,” he agreed.
“Really? You would?”
“I’d follow you anywhere, girl.” There was giggling, and then her mother was shrieking like he was tickling her.
“I don’t wanna wait.”
“I don’t wanna wait neither.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.”
Dreama couldn’t listen to any more. She put on her shoes and sweater and ran along the road and through the woods to Uncle Billy’s cabin. He let her stay there when she couldn’t stand to be in her mother’s orbit.
As she got closer, she heard voices. Billy was out of town on a fishing trip; no one should’ve been there.
From behind a thicket of trees, she watched as Aunt Red, Billy, and a few women she recognized gathered around a fire in the back and began to perform a ritual. She listened to Red as she described her husband’s cheating and her intention to banish his mistress from their lives.
Red was talking about her mother. And she had no idea. No one knew but Dreama.
She watched, mesmerized, as the ritual unfolded and the group became wild and vengeful in the flames. She knew Grandma Mama and Red did such things, but her mother had forbidden her from learning the work herself. Red, in particular, was a sight to behold. No wonder her mother was so jealous. She may have figured out a few love charms, but she had none of her sister’s power.
When it was over, Dreama saw the shadow lurking at the edge of the woods, and she could tell that Red saw it, too. The chill of death drifted into her lungs and snatched away the air. It would take vengeance against Hank’s mistress, her mother. And Dreama welcomed it.
The next morning, Dreama pretended to be asleep when Hank and her mom snuck out of the motel room clutching their suitcases. It wasn’t until hours later, the sun already starting to set, when Grandma Mama picked Dreama and Earl up in her truck and took them to Red’s house.
By the yellow light of the kitchen, Grandma Mama told them that their mama and uncle Hank had died in a bridge collapse. She said their mama was with God now, but it didn’t make it any easier. She knew it was shit luck, and she was sorry for it. She opened her arms, and Earl went to her. But Dreama didn’t want to be touched or consoled. She couldn’t feel anything. Not her body, or her own mind, or the solid things around her. If someone touched her, the feeling might come flooding back in.
Dreama rose from the table and walked down the hall toward Red’s room, where they’d said she could sleep for the night. She passed the open doorway of Opaline’s room, where she and Red lay spooned against one another, and Dreama’s chest lurched. The feeling was starting to prickle back into her body. She forced herself to turn away and continue down the hall.
Dreama lay down in her clothes on the large bed and felt small and wretched in its expanse. It was her fault. If she had warned them, or stopped Red, Mama would have been saved.
She had killed her mother, and now there was no going back. It would never be undone. She and Earl would never see her again.
The prickling increased until it was a deep, searing pain. She lay still and allowed it to burn her inch by inch. She wanted it to turn her to ash. She hoped that in the morning, she would not wake up, because she would no longer exist.
When the pain had nothing left to burn and all that remained was the shame, it compacted into a dense pit at the center of her.
In the nighttime silence of the house, she heard faint footsteps on the hardwood, and then a screen door carefully opened and shut. She forced herself up and went to the window in the corner. She watched as Red poked the fire back to life and took her black book out of a suitcase like she had at the ritual. It was like the one Grandma Mama used for her recipes, and like the brand-new one she had given her just a few months ago. Dreama had been eager to learn; she’d felt the power of the land bubbling up inside of her for weeks before Grandma Mama said she was ready. But her mother had taken it away from her and forbidden Grandma Mama from teaching Dreama anything about her work. It had enraged her, especially when she found her mother’s secret love charms.
Now, as she watched Red place her hand on the book and then push it into the flames, something sparked within Dreama. Here was her chance. For vengeance. For power. If she was an evil little thing, then she would embrace it.
She snuck out the front door as Red came in through the back, and without concern for her body, she thrust her bare arms into the fire, pulled out the book, and beat it against the lawn to extinguish its embered edges. When it had cooled, she opened it to the first page and read about the power Red had discovered, and the spark ignited and became a blaze inside of Dreama.
Everything went black, and Lee felt the layers of her gradually returning until she could feel her head and body again. Then she opened her eyes to find she was back in Ruby Jo’s house. The same young Dreama stood over her with a concerned expression, until she saw that Lee was fine, and she bared her teeth once more.
“How dare you!” She launched at Lee again, and Lee tried to fight her off without hurting her.
“Dreama, I’m sorry. That must have been so hard. Blaming yourself for your mother’s death”
At the mention of Ruby Jo, Dreama thrashed even harder in Lee’s grip and attempted to slash her face with her small jagged fingernails. Lee held her down and allowed her to tire herself out, and eventually she slowed and then stopped. She moved away from Lee and leaned against the wall, breathing hard from a teary-eyed grimace.
Lee sat down at a safe distance. “I would have been angry, too. She was going to leave you and Earl all by yourselves.” Lee paused. “I know what it’s like to feel like your mom doesn’t care about you. It made me feel worthless when I was younger. I had to get angry just so the sadness wouldn’t pull me under.”
Dreama let the tears trickle down her face and collect in the folds of her neck while she stared at a spot in the middle of the floor. “I wish I could take it all back. That was the first spell I looked for in Aunt Red’s book. One that could turn back time so that I could save her.” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath. “I would have forgiven her for wanting to leave. Now that I’m older, I understand it a bit more. Not that I think it was okay, but I understand it. Wanting to escape.”
“Me too. I’ve spent most of my life wanting to escape.”
“I just wish I could see her again, so I could tell her I’m sorry.”
Lee went to open her mouth, but then stopped. There was a smell of bread browning in the oven that she hadn’t noticed before. They both went quiet and sniffed the air. Lee trailed it to the kitchen with Dreama following closely behind her.
Ruby Jo was hunched over the counter with her back to them. While the bread rose and crusted in the oven, she chopped plant bits and added them to a rich stew.
Dreama stood behind her mother and stared, as if she was afraid to touch her. When Ruby Jo turned around, she yelped in surprise and wrapped her arms around Dreama’s shoulders and pulled her in against her chest. Dreama’s body trembled, and Ruby Jo held her out so she could see her face.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Dreama could barely speak above a brittle whisper. “I’m so sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry I didn’t warn you.”
Ruby Jo smoothed Dreama’s hair, and the tenderness of the gesture undid her; she put her face into her mother’s shoulder and allowed it all to flow out of her, untempered, in racking, hysterical sobs.
When she quieted, Ruby lifted Dreama’s head from her shoulder and held her face in front of hers. “No, baby, I’m the one who’s sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. You and your brother were my whole world. Hank was just another man passing through.” Ruby Jo smiled tearily at Dreama. “I don’t think I woulda gotten more than a few hours down the road before I turned back. But I guess we’ll never know.” She wiped under Dreama’s eyes and then her own. “Do you think you can forgive me? I’d understand if you couldn’t. It’s the worst thing a mother can do to her children. In all honesty, it shouldn’t be forgiven.” She tried to smile again. “But it ain’t for me. It’s for you, baby. I want you to have a little peace in this life.”
“I can forgive you, Mama. I’ve already forgiven you. What I can’t do is forgive myself. It’s not just your blood that’s on my hands. I’ve hurt other people.”
“No one is beyond forgiveness, my love.”
Lee thought of her own mother back at the clearing, lying unconscious. If they made it out of this, and Lee finally, truly forgave her, maybe Redbud would disappoint her. Maybe she’d relapse and hurt her and the cycle would start all over again. But even if she did, could Lee be free of the weight of it if she forgave? Could she finally forgive herself? They’d never get back to that time before, when everything felt like magic. But maybe they could have something else, something real and honest.
Ruby Jo took Dreama’s chin between her fingertips and brought her face up to hers. “But you have to atone for what you’ve done. Don’t just say you’re sorry like that does a damn thing. Atonement means action. Sacrifice.” She made sure Dreama was looking her in the eye. “Can you do that?”
Dreama cut her eyes at Lee.
“Dreama, I asked you a question.”
She turned back toward her mother.
Ruby Jo continued, “You know how good it feels when you make things right. Like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders, and you’re light enough to drift up to Heaven.”
A serenity settled over Dreama as she contemplated this. “Okay, Mama. I’ll do it.”
Ruby Jo smiled. “I knew you would. You’re my good, strong girl. Now run along now. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Dreama lingered in the kitchen staring at her mother’s back as she stirred the stew, unwilling to leave her presence yet. Then she inhaled deeply and forced herself to turn away.
Lee followed Dreama back into the bedroom. The small fire still crackled coldly in the middle of the floor. They both crouched and stared into its flames.
“When you moved back, I dreamt you would continue the tradition like I said, but I also dreamt y’all would be a family again—you, Redbud, Belva, your kids. I was so angry.” Dreama clenched her fists at the memory. “It wasn’t fair. I have lost everyone who’s ever truly loved me. I couldn’t let y’all be happy like that.” Her face drooped. “It was easier to blame your mama and channel all my rage toward y’all than to confront my own shame.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know if I can really forgive myself, and I don’t know if I should. But I can try to make it right.”
Lee rubbed Dreama’s back and wrapped her arms around her bony frame. Dreama buried her face in Lee’s shoulder, and they crouched there together. For a moment, they were just two lost girls comforting each other.
Then Dreama turned back to the flames. “I don’t think I can put it out. I need you to do it.”
“Okay.”
Dreama got up and turned toward the wall, keeping her back to Lee. “I can’t watch.”
Lee went into the now-empty kitchen and filled a dirty pitcher with brown sulfuric water. She positioned it over the flames. “Are you ready?”
“Goddamn, just do it.”
Lee emptied the pitcher onto the flames, and a cloud of smoke filled the room. When it cleared, the fire was still burning brightly.
She found a dusty blanket on the couch and tossed it onto the flames, but the fire seemed to repel it, and the blanket ended up on the other side of the room.
Lee studied the fire and noticed again that it wasn’t giving off any heat. She swiped a finger through the flames and felt only a slight chill. Lee brought her bare hands down to smother it, but a strong force resisted her from within. She pushed down with all of her might, but it wouldn’t yield.
“Dreama, I need your help. I think it has to be you.”
Dreama exhaled in a way that reminded Lee of Meredith and turned around from the wall. She crouched down next to Lee and put her hands above the fire, then brought them back to her lap.
“Do we really gotta do this? I promise I’ll be good from now on.”
“Can you make that promise?”
Dreama’s eyes glinted with mischief. “I guess not.” She put her hands back up, and they both brought their palms down on the fire. It resisted again, the blue seeping through their fingers and curling up around the sides.
Dreama bore down harder and screamed as if she was giving birth. Blood vessels broke in her face, and water streamed from her eyes and forehead. Lee felt the fire give way beneath her hands.
And then there was nothing.
THIRTY-SIX
MEREDITH
Meredith was the only one awake when Cooper knocked on the door the next morning. She’d never gone to sleep.
She had come to in the clearing last night with Redbud and Belva crouched above her, looking faint and haggard but mercifully alive. Her mother was still unconscious, but Belva assured her she would be fine. Dreama was gone, and Belva said they wouldn’t have to worry about her any longer. They carried Mom between the three of them up to the house in the early-morning darkness. There was no spirit of victory among them; Dreama had been one of their own.
After they put Mom to bed, Meredith watched the sun come up from the porch swing, her body a lantern with the land’s energy still blazing inside her, meeting the dawn.
She went out to greet her father on the front grass. He was bent over a makeshift fire pit and fingering a charred remnant of sleeve. “Hey, Dad.”
He looked up at her, startled. “What is this?”
“Last night we had to burn our clothes.” They hadn’t used the ritual clearing for fear of tainting it with the powerful, vengeful magic they’d been exposed to. She wasn’t interested in explaining this to him. “So, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to take you home.” He smiled expectantly.
“What are you talking about?”
His mouth flattened. “Your mom said you guys were coming back to California.”
“Oh, right. There’s been a change of plans. We’re staying here.”
“If she’s changed her mind, then she can stay here. You guys are coming with me.”
“Mom won’t let that happen.”
“She can’t stop me. I didn’t bring the police this time, but if she wants to involve them, I will. She didn’t show up for court. I have the right to assume custody.”
Meredith was struck by how petty he seemed with his talk of police and courts; these institutions that knew nothing of their lives. Did he know what their family could do? To think that he could wield any power over them was absurd.
“Dad. We’re not going with you.”
“I know your mom won’t be happy, but she’s made her decision. If she came with us, you guys could be together. This is not my fault. I’m just trying to protect you.”
“You’re not listening. Cliff and I are not going back to California. We are staying here. This is where we belong.”
