Bottled Abyss (26 page)

Janet is a few feet from me, on her knees—clenching her teeth, sweating, face contorting as though she’s dying or giving birth or both—she gasps— something in her hands—see that it’s the coin—suddenly she shoves it into her mouth and tries to swallow—the coin immediately comes back up in pieces, like congealed gravy melting to steam—it sizzles on the leaf strewn ground, disappears—

“Thought that would work—” Janet said, voice thick with nausea—

Just noticed Evan crouches beside me, saying things I haven’t heard or can even understand because I’m breathing so hard—body quivers, racing heart beats slower, not to a normal rhythm, but an acceptable one—glance around for the shark thing that called itself Fury—no trace of it, just trees and trees—

What happened—? Why did I try to hang myself—? And with what—? See no rope lying on the ground, but the wide band of bruising around my neck is several degrees more real than anything else at the moment—

Janet crawls up to me—register her and Evan more than before, see the Jeep parked out by the truck, which still had its door open—can’t find my breath to speak yet, words from Janet and Evan are making more sense—

“Can you stand—?” asks Janet—

Evan says something I can’t hear—

Feel his arms sliding under me, picking me up, he hasn’t picked me up in a long time, like it, have so missed it—

Look lazily out through the groves—across several rows, standing near a chain link fence, the Fury watches us—black, unblinking eyes see through me—scream—Evan and Janet turn—they see it too—Evan almost drops me—look back over to the spot it had been standing and the Fury has left—only swaying orange trees prove it had ever been there at all.

In all the years Janet had known Faye, she had never seen her so demanding. She refused to go to the hospital and insisted on returning to Janet’s house to collect some of her cleaning supplies and her good mop. After that, she planned to drive to her mother’s house in
Oakland
. Evan argued over this choice, she a pregnant woman freshly plucked from a death by hanging. He’d adjusted the rearview mirror to show her the red-blue-black strangulation marks on her throat. Though she would not suffer either of them a moment longer, she quietly agreed to go the ER after she got her things. There was a condition however. Janet had to explain what happened; she had to give up everything about the bottle.

It wasn’t an easy to story to retell in a believable way, especially since Janet didn’t have all the answers herself. The bottle’s power all boiled down to, in her theory anyway, a transference of death. There, in her living room, perched over a cup of jasmine tea, Janet told them about Lester, about the coin and Sam, about the fly and Mrs. Horrace, and about the strange phone call she received from someone called the Fury.

“That was it,” said Faye, her voice, sandpapered. She looked down at her still steaming cup of tea. “That was the monster we saw. It told me it was called the Fury.”

Janet let out a quivering breath. “It didn’t tell me about the coins…I didn’t know, Faye. I only figured it out when I heard about Mrs. Horrace. I would have told you if I thought it was dangerous.”

“You didn’t know either way.” Faye curled a finger around the handle of her cup, but didn’t lift it.

Janet glanced at Evan. He hadn’t said much during the story. He just kept his face pointed down, his spectacled eyes on the nervous playing of his fingers. He was usually the first to be judgmental, but this time he was at a loss to pick up any stones.

“I should have told you both about the bottle,” Janet went on, “I was going to write it down in a note—things just kept happening.”

Faye wanted to speak, but either from the rope burn or the thousand questions likely colliding through her mind, she remained stoic. Evan, on the other hand, at last burst to life. He stood and knuckled the small of his back, then went over to the fireplace to re-gather.

They really needed to get Faye to the hospital and have the baby checked out. Janet wanted to say as much but that was a losing battle still. She picked up her cup and went into the kitchen to pour another. Using the same tea bag, she took her grandmother’s old tea pot and observed the light brown fluid draining out. Her hand trembled as she did.
After seeing that thing in the grove, and after what happened to Faye, they had to believe me, right?