Four on the Floor: Part Twenty-Four
Part Twenty-Four
“So, what, you’re just going to come home whenever you want? Fuck, girl, you need a shower!“
Tasha, clearly, is not too happy to see me. It’s a good sign that the police haven’t tracked down my phone though, at least, otherwise my stuff would’ve been on the curb. I have the feeling that a few scratcher tickets won’t do it this time.
“Yeah, uh… Could I get by you? Get that shower, change my clothes?”
She folds her arms, she’s more testy than usual today. “And while you’re at it, you can pack your sh-“ Tasha is staring directly behind me.
Right, Shan wanted to accompany me. Given the nervous sound she just made I’m guessing she sees him as a tall, well-dressed, and classically handsome black man. Which, now that I remember, is precisely her type.
While Tasha stammers her way to cautiously flirty small talk, I slip by and head to the bathroom, taking Pumpkin along with me. Once the shower’s running, I undress and get in, leaving Pumpkin on the sink.
Well, I get in after murmuring “cleanse”, considering that the shower needed it and I forgot to clean it over the weekend. I have never appreciated hot water this much in my life.
“A.J.? Did you bring a dragon here?!”
“Long story. Tired. Hungry. Need caffeine. Lots of stuff to tell you about.” For a minute I just stand under the hot water, closing my eyes, sore muscles announcing their soreness while the heat grants them some relief. Pumpkin, to his credit, remains quiet until I return from my reverie. Normally Tasha has a rule about maximum time in the shower, but with Shan out there I could probably be in here all night and she wouldn’t notice.
It’s a good thing, because it takes a while to tell Pumpkin everything.
“So, the Shadow Dancer, huh?”
“Don’t ask me.” I’m moving into shampooing my hair now, I really did need this. “That’s what Val called me and now everyone’s saying it.”
“And when did Shan swoop out of the sky?”
“After I went back to check on the body and found that bit of Sigil on the floor. Can’t believe I forgot my phone. I am so fucked.”
“Why?”
I peek my head out from behind the curtain. The water’s moving into warm territory. “Because I’m probably going to be arrested and blamed for that woman’s death?”
“You’re a sorcerer, A.J.”
“I’m not going to start throwing spells at people, Pumpkin, even if I did know how.”
“No, no. Not that. Sorcerers are generally forgotten by the world. They’re off the loom of Fate. Even your own mother would, um…” He trails off.
I slink back behind the curtain.
Even my own mother would forget me.
My father, too.
Pumpkin explained this to me when I first bound him into that skull, and went home to find my parents had no idea who I was. My room was now a makeup and design space, the photos around the house had an absence of me that no one noticed. They thought I was a spooky girl that might be a little too into the death and occult of it all, but were kind enough to me to let me crash for the night, because Goth is family. In their eyes I was probably a runaway. They were still the same people, just minus a daughter.
When the first zombies showed up outside their house, I was in denial, I did some things I’m not proud of to keep them away, which only made me look to them like a crazy person who hated homeless people. Regular people, humans, that is, know on some level that you’re Something Else, and after a week my parents were subtly nudging me out the door.
I try to see it from their perspective, I was just some girl who showed up on their doorstep and soon became in their eyes the reason you don’t take in strays, but from mine?
My parents didn’t love me anymore. All the logic in the world won’t dull the edge of that.
“A.J.? What I’m trying to say is that the police won’t come after you, because you don’t really exist. Not in the system. Any system. That phone will probably just come back as a burner with no prints.”
“Burner with no prints?” I chuckle, half-hearted. “You learn that from Diplomatic Immunity?”
“It’s more than just sex, you know, there are some thriller elements. Romance is a many-faceted genre.”
After a pause, I turn off the shower, sounds like they’re still talking out there, but I hush my tone while I brush my teeth, using “cleanse” on Tasha’s toothbrush, which spills over onto the sink, as well as the mirror.
“Don’t you usually need my help for that?”
“Yeah, I’m a little scared, Pumpkin, I’m doing stuff I’ve never done before. That thing with the shadows in the lake was creepy even for me, and I’m very concerned that this isn’t concerning me as much it would anyone else.”
There it is again, that subtle feeling that this is normal, that I’ll be okay, that it’ll all be okay.
“Abby? Would you rather feel all of it? Know how weird and wrong and not normal not only all of this is, but how not normal you are? And that you’ll never fix it, it’ll never go away, there’s no going back for you ever? Could you handle that every second of every day for the rest of your life? Could you really look at Les or any of those other zombies and be as cheerful and helpful when in your heart and soul you know that they’re not supposed to exist? Could you cast spells while suspecting the whole time that you’re crazy?”
“I would have preferred a choice in the matter, Pumpkin.”
“Blame your subconscious, I don’t know. You’re a sorcerer, Abby, because the moment came and deep down you wanted this. I saw you, and manifested, and instead of running away screaming to a therapist, you met my eyes and told me to fuck off and pushed me into a fucking Halloween decoration from a Dollar General. You wouldn’t trade this, Abby, not the magic or dragons or zombies or any of it for a normal life.”
I sigh, look in the mirror, then spit and rinse, and look again, wiping the steam off. “Fuck you.”
“I’m just saying what you already think, Abby.”
I take a deep breath.
“I know. But still, fuck you anyway.”
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