The Demon's Grave (6 page)

Slipping off the bed I rummaged through my pile of dirty clothes until I found the jeans I had been wearing that day and dug through the pockets until I found the wrinkled piece of paper.

All together could they be some sort of poem? I stared at the words for what felt like forever, letting the words jumble together.

It didn’t make any sense.

Dropping the note in my lap I ran my fingers back into the French braid and pulled just enough to feel a bite of pain; something to reassure me that I was awake. I wanted to believe there was a connection with the messages. A vain hope that the words meant something.

Swallowing back my fears, I noticed my backpack’s open maw. Within the gap my notebook jutted out near the top. I could write them down for now, maybe find a connection between the three messages.

Reluctant but determined, I plucked the scribbler free and opened it to a blank page to purge the messages from my head.

The weighty eyes had disappeared entirely, leaving me to spend the next few hours staring at the words they’d left behind.

Friday arrived too soon. I’d spend several hours each day worrying and trying to figure out if I should go or not. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if I didn’t and hell I’d probably feel a little better about that, but I know it would raise more questions. Ones I didn’t want to answer and if Phoebe wanted to, she’d hound me until I broke down.

I even called Aidan’s cell at one point but he didn’t pick up and I didn’t know what to say for a message. He never called me back either.

Adjusting my grip on the shopping bags, I breathed in the fresh air. Maybe this weekend would be worth it. More than likely I was overreacting. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Phoebe nudged me as the city bus pulled around the corner. “Are you alright?”

Phoebe and I didn’t live far from each other and we agreed to bus it together to Aidan’s.

“I’m fine,” I replied automatically. I always hated that question.

Parting her lips, Phoebe was interrupted by the shrieking brakes as the bus shouldered the curb and hissed to a stop.

To avoid Phoebe’s curious gaze I watched the bus doors folded open.

At first Phoebe didn’t budge. I knew she was watching me and I motioned for her to lead. Phoebe was often rebellious with orders, but today she brushed past me to plod up the steps. The heavy pack bowing her spine for balance. We each paid and flopped onto empty seats, side by side, near the front.

The bus jerked to a start and Phoebe started again. “So, seriously, are you trying to think up excuses not to go because of Aidan?” There was a twinge of disapproval in her low voice.

Squirming, I hugged the duffel bag on my lap.
Ah, Hell, why not?
Before I could analyze what I was about to do, I asked. “Has anything weird happened to you lately?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Weird how?”

“Well,” I struggled to collect my thoughts. “On Monday you said you were having nightmares.”

“Oh yeah,” Phoebe looked startled as if she’d forgotten. “I didn’t tell you about those dreams, did I?”

“You started to.”

“That’s right. We saw Robin and blah, blah, blah,” Phoebe sat at the edge of her seat, refusing to remove the hiker’s pack. “It was kind of weird. Hadn’t had that dream since I was a kid.”

I thought of the spiders that had scampered through my last few nights. “What kind of dream?”

Phoebe started cracking her knuckles. “It was one where people were in my house and my family was being hurt and I couldn’t do anything to help them and they kept trying to tell me things but none of it ever made sense.”

“Do you remember what they were saying?”

She shook her head. “Sometimes when I wake up but that’s about it.”

“It’s kind of a coincidence. I had an old dream about spiders.” I played with the zipper on my bag.

Phoebe leaned back as far as her pack would allow. “I didn’t know that. I remember that spider dream you used to have. With the scorpion, right?”

I nodded after a hesitation, feeling my heart skip a beat. I’d forgotten about the scorpion. “Has there been anything weird
other
than just nightmares?”

After a prolonged silence I glanced at her and she motioned frantically for me to continue.

“Messages,” I paused avoiding her stare. “I’ve been getting really messed up messages.”

“Like what?”

I told her about my notebook, the shower and the mirror. I told her everything, keeping my voice down as I rambled for the rest of our ride. It felt good to tell someone. Inch by inch I was pulling free from the anxiety.

Phoebe held the inquisitive expression even during the strangest portions of my story. I had hoped that she had an answer to solve my problem, but she wasn’t offering any right away.

“I thought maybe it was a warning,” I said.

“You didn’t have any weird experiences yesterday though?”

“No.”

“Where’s the note?” Phoebe asked.

I stared at her for several seconds, feeling the panic beginning to rise in the back of my head. She didn’t believe me. Would she tell anyone else? The rest of the gang might laugh it off, but my mom wouldn’t and I had no idea how my dad would react. “Um…‌it’s at home.” I decided to omit the fact that I’d thrown it out.

Phoebe looked toward the back of the bus, not divulging a hint of what she might be thinking. “Have you told anyone else?”

“No,” I said, too quickly, “please though, Phoebe? Don’t tell anyone.”

Turning her head back to me, she didn’t make eye contact, but offering a slight nod. “Maybe it was just stress, Fuller.”

She
did
think I was nuts.

Only Phoebe and Cody knew why my family moved to Leland when I was younger. I kind of wanted to keep it that way.

“You’re probably right.” The lie strained my voice.

We fell quiet for several seconds, sitting side by side as the bus stopped to let on more people.

The snap of each one of her knuckles was producing an internal flinch. I wanted her to stop acting nervous and support me, but she wasn’t helping me like I’d hoped. Persistent, I tried to move the subject forward, hoping to jostle the protective-Phoebe I had depended on all these years. “Thought about talking to him, but…‌”

She snorted and the old-Phoebe presented itself again. “You’ve always avoided him. He’s not a bad guy, you know. He helped me when Re…‌” Her tongue seemed to tie itself.

So Aidan knew what was happening between Read and Phoebe. I felt the knife twist in my chest. Phoebe and I had been friends since we were kids, we told each other almost everything. When did this stop? I wondered, hurt.

“At the Splitz party four months ago,” Phoebe continued as if she hadn’t stopped, “he paid for Robin and Cody’s cab. Read seems to like him and Read normally just likes things with tits. I mean, that in itself should say something. If you think about it, Aidan was always moved around because of his parents, we’re kind of his first friends.”

“He told you that?” I asked.

“No, Read did once. Aidan’s not out for pity.” Phoebe snapped a disapproving glance in my direction.

Raising one hand defensively, I said. “Okay, okay, he’s an awesome piece of work. I’m a bitch with low self-esteem or some lame psycho-analytical bull crap.”

Phoebe burst out laughing, making me jump. She patted my arm as the bus pulled up to our stop. “Come on, you sarcastic, psycho bitch. We have a party to start.”

Stepping down the tall steps we were on the four lane avenue just a block from Aidan’s‌—‌according to Phoebe. The houses were well kept and older with mowed lawns and rainbow inspired flower gardens.

Waiting for me to catch up and the bus’s doors to close, Phoebe said. “I think you’ll be just fine. Once the finals are over in a few weeks we’ll have all summer to avoid Aidan if you want.”

I tried to smile, finding it difficult. “I shouldn’t be trying to avoid him,” I admitted reluctantly. “I should be getting to know him. I just get a freaky vibe off of him.”

Phoebe cocked her head to the side, her pale eyebrows raised in question.

Shaking my head I waved it off. “Forget about it. It’s not important.”

She cleared her throat and Phoebe’s playful tone darkened. “Well, don’t go telling anyone else about the messages. At least not yet,” Phoebe’s dark green eyes met mine. “If you see or hear more, talk to me. K?”

I almost glared at her. This was the end of my argument. She wasn’t willing to hear me out. Though if I were her, I wouldn’t want to believe my friend was insane either.

After a hesitation I nodded. “I’ll talk to you.”

The overcast of awkward silence hovered until we turned onto Shirley Street. Phoebe started to crack her knuckles again and I tried to find something interesting in the older houses. One in particular had chalk writing on the individual bricks. A child’s wobbly, block writing proclaiming that it was the R-O-B-I-N-S-O-N-H-O-U-S-E. Then below it said: R-O-B-B-Y. Robby Robinson…‌poor kid.

“So,” Phoebe whistled. “How did your essay go with Professor Chase?”

I could have hugged her. “I think I did okay, but then today she gave us another pop quiz.”

“How exciting,” Phoebe sneered. “I told you English majors were jerks.”

I tried not to smile. “It would have been fine except for that random bonus question.”

“Hey, at least you got a chance to up your mark. I don’t think McCaully takes questions from our text books. What was the question anyway?” McCaully was a hated prof of Phoebe’s. He taught a biology class while my Professor Chase taught my Classic Authors class.

“Kindness is the golden chain by which society is bound together. Who was that quote by?”

Phoebe snorted and popped a piece of gum in her mouth, offering me some.

“Yeah I got it wrong too.” I politely declined the Juicy Fruit.

“Who quoted it? Shakespeare or something?” Phoebe stuck her tongue out, the gum wrapped around the tip. She crossed her eyes for added effect.

Rolling my eyes at her, I was smiling. “Johann W. von Goethe.”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

“What did he do?”

“He wrote
Faust
.”

Phoebe raised her eyebrows. “Forget I asked. I don’t know how you can even study English as a major. You speak it, read it, what else is there to know? The way online trolls are now-a-days, no one in thirty years will know that the word ‘you’ contains more than one letter.”

“Aren’t you just glass-half-f today,” I said and was hip checked hard enough to stumble off the sidewalk.

Catching my balance I giggled and realized I was feeling better. Phoebe and I talked about a few good memories from the past year, both of us careful to avoid both Read and Aidan’s names. Phoebe was fond of the time the two of us and Cody sat around and mixed pop rocks with Pepsi. We were only eight at the time and were convinced we were badass until Cody freaked out and started to cry. He thought our stomachs were going to explode and wanted Phoebe to call an ambulance. Instead, we found Cody’s dad and all he could repeat was that Cody must have been constipated. That summer we learned that mixing pop rocks and Pepsi wasn’t deadly, but also the definition of constipation. We held that over Cody’s head for an entire school year.

Shirley Street was a quiet little suburb with overgrown trees and lengthy front lawns. Unlike the newer areas, there was actual space between the houses.

Phoebe’s cell phone went off, playing a Metallica song. “Cody?” She asked with a brilliant smile. “You better have gotten me my schnapps, or I’ll be pissed.”

We saw the house number and Phoebe motioned for me to go ahead of her.

I stopped in my tracks. The Birket residence was a single-story brick home with brown shingles and overgrown shrubs. The windows were dark, leaving not hint of life beyond the glass. Twisting, I looked to Phoebe, pleading with my eyes.

She produced a very disappointed sigh and said into the phone. “Yeah we’re here already. Fuller was just about to let Aidan know we’re here.” Stepping into me, she shoved the flat of her hand into my back, pushing me up the walk. My sneakers clomped along the narrow sidewalk with the shove. I slowed afterward, hoping she’d be off the phone by the time I reached the door.

Unfortunately, I think she kept talking to Cody‌—‌who we all know rarely speaks‌—‌on purpose.

Fine
, I straightened my spine.
I’m not a little kid anymore. She was right to make me do this alone
. Though it didn’t mean I’d have to like it. Maybe Read was here ahead of us. If Cody was on the phone with Phoebe that meant he and Robin were still behind.

The hair-raising prickle snaked under my skin. I smoothed out my camisole and jean shorts with one hand, trying to make my twitch look natural. Aidan was approaching the door, I knew.

Phoebe’s voice droned on behind me between barking laughs and the occasional crude joke.

As I raised my free fist to knock, the door swung open.

Aidan popped into view and I swallowed the shriek, jumping instead.

“Hi Nora,” he said looking past me at Phoebe, then that stare zapped me and his lips formed a polite smile. “You’re the first to arrive.” He sounded pleased.

At least one of us was a good liar.

My attempt to match the enthusiasm was awkward so I ditched the quivering smile. “Phoebe’s just on the phone with Cody.” I thrust a thumb over my shoulder. I felt like an idiot trying to make a conversation out of the obvious. Looking back, Phoebe waved at Aidan.

“Uh huh,” Aidan stepped out of the way, inviting me in with a sweep of his arm.

Here goes nothin’.

I forced my legs to move until I heard the door latch behind me.

With Aidan behind me, the familiar vibration of his closeness made me shiver.

With a jerky hand, I brushed invisible hair behind my ears to look around.

The house was small and convenient, retaining a lingering musky scent.

Heavy curtains were all drawn, the lamps attempting to brighten the dark space. I’m pretty sure his parents had managed to collect every book with unrecognizable symbols and languages just to taunt a visitor’s intelligence.