Julia
It’s bright when I wake up, and for a moment, I’m completely disoriented.
It takes a few seconds for me to realize that I’m lying on the couch in the living room. A throw blanket covers my legs, but there’s no other sign of Zeke. Wasn’t he just here?
I sit up and shake the sleep from my body. Even though the living room lights are on, I can tell that it’s dark out. What time is it?
My purse sits on the coffee table in front of me alongside the vial of Mama Janvier’s potion. Sickened by the mere sight of it, I slide the bottle back into my bag before fishing my cell phone out instead.
The clock on the lock screen tells me it’s almost four in the morning. How had I slept so long?
Still groggy, I stand and pick my way into the hallway. The house is cool and dark. It strikes me that Jake should’ve been home by now, but there’s no sign of him. Surely, he would have woken me if he’d come in late.
Maybe he’s upstairs, already asleep in our bedroom.
I stop at the base of the steps, perching on the bottom one so that I can pull off my heels. I’m far too tired to go wobbling around on them in the dark. I leave them by the front door and pad up the stairs in my bare feet.
The second floor feels as vacant as the first. There isn’t even the telltale sound of Jake’s snoring to indicate that he’s here.
Uneasy, I creep over to our bedroom. The door stands open, exactly as I’d left it earlier when I’d first gone down to greet Helen. When I peer inside, I know immediately that the room is empty.
“Where the hell is he?” I mutter as I step fully over the threshold. My hand gropes along the wall for the light switch. I find it and flick it on, illuminating the space with a warm glow.
I don’t know whether I should be angry or worried. He’d assured me he’d be back later. Hell, he’d even turned on his location settings on his phone so I wouldn’t have to wonder where he went.
The location settings! I’d forgotten about that entirely in the swirl of ghosts and Voodoo. I pull out my phone and open the tracking app.
My heart immediately sinks.
“A hotel?” I screech into the empty air. “That fucker’s in a hotel?”
There’s no disputing it, and there’s no excuse for it either. In fact, it’s like Jake wants me to know. Has he done this on purpose just to toy with me? Had he seduced me last night knowing that he was going to fuck some other girl tonight?
Cold rage wells inside of me as I spike my phone onto the bed. I want to scream, but I can’t even bring myself to open my mouth. Instead, I’m simply frozen in the center of the room, seething.
I think back to how sweet Jake had been in the early morning hours of the previous day. He’d touched me so tenderly, so lovingly, that it almost physically hurt to think about. But then another image flashes through my mind, one of Zeke kneeling beside the bed, and realization strikes me like a bolt of lightning.
That hadn’t been Jake, had it?
Somehow, it had been Zeke who had made such gentle love to me.
Hadn’t he told me, speaking through Jake’s lips, that it had just been a dream?
But that’s what I want. Not somebody like Jake who uses me like a toy for his own whims and pleasure.
Zeke is my dream.
Longing surges through me as I think about the way he had worshipped my body so thoroughly. I want that again–more than anything.
But how can we ever have that? I’m alive and he’s… not.
Even if I do somehow manage to banish Amos and divorce Jake, what then?
Zeke can’t leave this place, which means I’d be stuck here too. It wouldn’t be so bad, though, not with the demon gone and the man of my dreams by my side.
I allow myself a few moments to ponder that option, however improbable it may be. We could be happy, I think. Of course, it would be very different. For one, I’d grow old while Zeke would stay young as the years pass. But if we made sure I died on the property, wouldn’t we be able to be together forever after that? I could handle that, as long as the hope of eternity glimmered like a promise at the end.
The fantasy cheers me up enough that I’m able to retrieve my phone from the bed. I type off one final message to Jake, and then block his number.
Don’t bother coming home, asshole.
It’s now almost five o’clock. I don’t see any point in trying to get back to sleep. There are too many thoughts swimming through my head even after making the choice to cut Jake loose.
Instead, I decide to take a shower. I stand under the hot water and imagine what it would feel like for Zeke to be in here with me. How would he touch me? I allow one hand to wander south toward the apex of my thighs.
Zeke, using Jake’s mouth, had brought me an explosion of incomparable pleasure. What would his fingers feel like, I wonder? My thumb brushes over my clit, and I sigh at the sensation.
As I trace my own slick heat with my fingertips, I can almost feel Zeke’s ghostly hand guiding me. Is it actually him? Is he watching me right now as I finger myself under the steaming waterfall of the shower, moaning into the darkness?
I come hard on my own digits with his name on my lips.
He’s the only one I want, and I need him to know it.
I clean up the evidence of my arousal quickly and then move on to lather my hair. Once I’m clean, I turn the shower off and grab a towel, wrapping it around me before I return to the bedroom.
As I pull on a yellow sundress, I hear several steps of small footsteps run past the bedroom door, followed quickly by a jovial giggle. This time, the sounds of the phantom children don’t scare me. Instead, I can’t help but muster up a thin smile. Maybe Zeke and I can adopt some ghost kids, I think sardonically.
I take my time drying and styling my hair before I carefully apply my makeup. I consider using concealer to cover the yellowing bruise that mars my delicate cheekbone but ultimately decide against it.
Why should I protect Jake by hiding the evidence of his actions? It should be his shame to bear, not mine.
By the time I’m ready, dawn has broken to reveal a tentative blue sky. I’m surprised to see movement in the swamp when I look out the window. For a moment, fear lodges in my throat as I assume it must be Amos, but further inspection reveals the familiar figures of the workmen milling about on the edge of the back yard.
The permits to drain the marsh must have finally gone through, I realize. I’ll feel better once the muck recedes from the foundations of the house. Will the boundaries of the swamp impact Amos’s power at all? It’s a curious question, and I decide that I’ll have to ask Zeke later on.
In the meantime, I think I’ll go down and chat with the work crew. I’ve grown fond of the foreman. Maybe I’ll even make a big pot of coffee for everybody. I’d rather the company than sitting inside mulling over Jake’s betrayal.
I open the bedroom door and nearly have a heart attack.
“Oh, my God!” I yelp, jumping back from the threshold.
An old woman stands framed in the doorway. She’s very small, and there’s something overwhelmingly familiar about her. After a moment, I realize that she reminds me of the woman who sold us the house. Layla, wasn’t it? And if this is a family resemblance, I have a pretty good idea who this is.
“Miss Penny?” I guess once I’ve gotten a hold of myself.
The elderly lady smiles and nods. “Pardon me for scaring you, honey. I just thought it might be time for us to meet.”
“You’re a ghost,” I say flatly. Like Zeke, she appears to be solid, but I happen to know that Miss Penny passed several months ago. Plus, hadn’t Zeke said she was still here?
“You’re a very observant young lady,” Miss Penny deadpans back, though I can sense the vein of humor running beneath her words.
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face at the departed woman’s quick wit. “And you’re very polite,” I retort good-naturedly. “Have you come about Amos?”
“I have,” she replies. “Zeke would have come himself, but I fear you’ve worn the poor boy out.”
A blush rises to my cheeks as I think about exactly how I’ve depleted so much of Zeke’s limited energy.
Miss Penny waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, modesty doesn’t matter much to the dead,” she scoffs. “Besides, we have more important things to discuss. Amos is growing stronger by the day. He’ll come for you soon.”
The warning sends a chill rolling through my limbs. “I don’t know what to do,” I confess. “I know I should go, but I want to stay. I want to fight, but there’s a price.”
“There always is,” Miss Penny agrees. “Is it worth it?”
“I’m so torn. I want to be with Zeke more than anything, but I’m going to have to sacrifice somebody to do it,” I admit softly. I’m ashamed to even say it out loud, and the worst part is that I don’t know if Zeke would ever be able to forgive me if I went through with it.
“What do you have to do?” the ghost asks.
“A Voodoo priestess gave me an incantation,” I tell her. When I recite it from memory, Miss Penny nods in recognition. Then I continue, “But it won’t be enough. I have to use a potion to bind Amos to somebody, and then banish both of them with the spell. I don’t think the person who drinks the potion is meant to survive.”
“What a terrible choice,” Miss Penny sighs.
“Is there any other way to get rid of Amos?”
The spirit shakes her head. “Many have tried, and all have ultimately failed. Even I couldn’t find a way, and you can believe me when I say that I had years to experiment.”
“So this is it?” I ask her. “Leave–or lose myself?”
“This is it.” It’s not a comforting answer, but it rings true. “Whatever you choose, I’ll do what I can to help. So will the others. We’ve endured Amos’s chaos long enough. I’d like to see my home at peace.”
Before I can ask her anything else, Miss Penny’s form fades before my eyes until she disappears completely.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” I mutter as I step through the doorway where the old woman had just been standing. I half expect to experience a cold spot or eerie feeling where the ghost was, but the air feels normal and entirely undisturbed.
How many times have I walked directly through a ghost without knowing it? It’s a rather unpleasant thought, and I push it away quickly.
My head is already spinning from the choice that looms over my head. It’s all I can think about as I head downstairs and out the back door.
I stand on the porch and watch as the workmen mill around with strange pieces of equipment. It strikes me that I have no idea what draining the swamp actually entails or how long it’s going to take.
Either way, I know now that there are some things down there that should stay buried.
Some things are better left alone.