Haunting the Night (5 page)

Friday morning arrived wrapped in a blanket of fog. I liked it. There was something strangely graceful in the way the white mist curled itself around the streetlights.

Annalise had prepared pancakes for breakfast. She was slicing strawberries onto the warm golden discs when I entered the kitchen.

“You seriously didn’t need to go to all this trouble.” I sat down at the table. “I’m fine with cereal.”

“Well, I’m not.” My sister set a plate in front of me. “This is my way of trying to apologize for abandoning you again today.”

“No apologies necessary. Besides, I’m hanging out with Mills today.” And hopefully saying goodbye to the shadow creature. I had spent half the night going over the words I would say when we reached the harbor, a final goodbye to Marcus that combined my sincere apology with hope for an end to things.

After breakfast Annalise hurried off to her first class while I got ready for the day. Mills had offered to pick me up, but I told him that as long as it wasn’t raining, I preferred to walk to the harbor.

It was a good decision. The air was fresh from days of rain, and I loved walking through the thick fog. Even though the harbor was located over a mile away, I was early.

Mills had said he would meet me outside the aquarium. He hadn’t arrived yet, so I looked out over the pale brown water of Charleston Harbor and enjoyed my moment alone. It was still early enough that the city hadn’t been invaded yet by eager tourists, and I was content to stare at the gently moving waves and bobbing boats. Was I also looking at some of Marcus’s ashes? Realistically, I knew it wasn’t possible, but it was interesting to think about. Or maybe simply sad—I wasn’t sure.

“Am I late?” Mills pulled me out of my quiet thoughts and I turned to greet him with a quick hug. He handed me a bouquet of white tulips. “I thought these would be appropriate,” he said. “We can toss them onto the water.”

I was glad he had thought of that detail. It would make everything more formal, more official, in a way. “Is this the spot?”

He gestured down the harbor, at the other end of the aquarium. “It was this way.”

We walked side by side, with me cradling the tulips. It was our own little funeral procession, in a way, and I tried to focus on what we were here to do. I had found a few poems online that I could read, somber and respectful. I hoped it would be enough.

We reached the other side of the harbor. Away from the aquarium, there were fewer cars and people. Even though it was still early, I could see bright yellow school buses pulling into the aquarium’s parking lot. Soon there would be crowds of tourists and eager children. I wanted to be done with our task by then, done with everything.

“We scattered most of his ashes right here,” Mills said. I looked out at the calm water. White gulls drifted above us. I breathed in the seaweed-scented air and tried to focus. I wasn’t sure where to begin. Mills seemed to sense my uncertainty.

“Why don’t I give you a few moments by yourself?” He smiled. “That way you can say whatever you need to say. I’ll wait over there.” He nodded toward the aquarium parking lot.

“Sure.” Mills had gotten me this far. I needed to do the rest on my own.

After waiting a few moments until I was sure there was no one near me, I pulled out the slip of notebook paper tucked inside my jacket. On it I had copied a poem I liked, but as I began reading softly, the words felt wrong in my mouth. Was I really here to read poetry into the breeze? No. I was here to ask for forgiveness, to beg for it. I closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry you died because of me,” I whispered. “I’m sorry you had to die like that, surrounded by violence. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry—” I looked down at the tulips. They were so flawless, so perfectly white. I stretched out my arm and dropped them into the water below. “I’m sorry.”

A few minutes later, Mills came up behind me. “How do you feel?”

I stared at the tulips as they were carried by the water. More than anything I wanted to be able to tell Mills that I felt better. I wanted to have experienced some sense of closure and relief. But I didn’t. I felt absolutely nothing except for my guilt, which was still as strong and present as ever.

Mills gave me a ride back to the apartment. Once inside, I tried calling both Noah and Avery, but my calls went straight to voice mail. As I debated what to do with my open afternoon, my phone buzzed. I answered it, expecting Noah or Avery, but it was Zelden’s assistant again. I cut her off before she could speak. “Tell him to forget it,” I said. “I don’t need him.” Funny how I thought Zelden would be the one with the answers, when it was Mills who had really helped me.

I plopped in front of the TV. It began to rain again, so hard I had to turn up the volume on the TV to block out the insistent banging of raindrops against the window. Annalise called.

“My study group will be over by four and then I promise it’s just you and me for the rest of the night.”

“Great. See you then.”

“Okay.” She paused. “I’m really sorry—”

“Stop. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

It wasn’t, but that wasn’t my sister’s fault. It was mine. I knew somehow, in my core, that I had failed. My weak attempt at apologizing to the spirit of Marcus had not worked, and the shadow would be making another visit soon. Since I was going home in twenty-four hours, I would need to spend my last day in Charleston tucked inside the library, searching for better ways to solve my problem. Maybe Mills would help me again. And Noah—I knew Noah would help in any way he could.

Or maybe I should just leave. My brief vacation had gone badly. If Annalise wasn’t going to be away for most of the day, I would have asked her to take me home now. Then I could crash the Prom with Noah. Avery would be thrilled, and maybe I would end up with an evening of decent memories instead of a long weekend full of depressing ones.

When Annalise got home we ordered a pizza and settled on the sofa to watch a movie. She fell asleep halfway through, though, so I cleaned up our mess and then woke her so she could go to bed. I knew I couldn’t go to sleep yet—not until I confirmed whether or not the shadow would be outside the window.

I was betting it would.

I forced myself to look out the window every half hour, convinced that I needed to simply get the encounter out of the way. It was my new abnormal routine, one that I was stuck with for the foreseeable future.

By ten, I was checking outside the living room window every fifteen minutes. By eleven, I was pacing the room. Why was it taking so long? I felt a glimmer of optimism. Had my little ceremony actually worked?

Another hour passed, and another. Outside, the rain had reduced to a soft drizzle. The streets were empty of people and cars and mysterious shadow beings. My eyes grew heavy and I wanted to go to bed, to slip under the blankets next to my sister and sleep until late morning or early afternoon. I would wait one more hour, I decided. If the shadow did not appear, I would know that I had been successful and I would rest better than I had in months.

I crept into Annalise’s room. Judging from her heavy, rhythmic breathing was sound asleep. I quickly brushed my teeth, slipped into a T-shirt and got ready for bed. But it hadn’t been exactly an hour, so I returned to the living room to take one final peek out of the window.

Nothing. There was nothing there. The streetlight glowed, illuminating a sprinkle of raindrops, not even enough to be called a drizzle. I breathed in, relieved. I had not felt anything during my goodbye to Marcus, but my actions had been enough to appease the shadow creature. I was free.

I reached over and turned off the lamp. Then I turned around.

And sucked in my breath so I wouldn’t scream.

The shadow creature was standing in the tiny kitchen, only a few feet from me. I moved back, trying to put distance between us. It was huge, a dark giant whose head grazed the ceiling of the apartment. And as I moved back, it moved forward.

“No,” I whispered. “No.”

It was supposed to be outside. There was supposed to be a window and a wall of bricks separating us. Now there was nothing. It glided forward. I wanted to look away, but I felt completely transfixed by this thing that had no face and no real body. It possessed only a humanlike shape but no features that I could discern.

My fear gave way to incredulous anger. It had crossed a boundary. I thought we had some sort of deal: it stayed outside and I remained inside and every night made sure to acknowledge its growing presence. And now it was here, in my sister’s cozy apartment while she slept in the next room. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

“I tried.” My voice was hoarse, a heated whisper. “I apologized to Marcus. I did my best. I don’t know what else I can do.”

Had it grown bigger as I spoke? It seemed like it, but I couldn’t be sure. It took another gliding step forward. Again, the action triggered intense anger in me.

“It wasn’t my fault!” I wasn’t yelling, but my voice was definitely louder. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t.”

The shadow stopped. I blinked, and it seemed that it had actually shrunk a little. Its head no longer touched the ceiling.

“His death was not my fault,” I repeated. The shadow stopped moving. I stared hard, convinced that it had decreased in size yet again. Not a lot, as it was still tall and imposing, but now the top of the shadow was level with the fridge.

“I did not kill Marcus. I am not responsible.”

Now the shadow was lighter, not as thick. I could almost see through it as it stood still, centered in the kitchen. My words were having a strangely positive effect, and the shadow didn’t seem to mind. It was as if he wanted to diminish, wanted to disappear completely.

I continued to speak, to say the same few sentences over and over. My voice gained a calm strength each time I said the words aloud. I wasn’t simply repeating the words, though. I was trying to believe them. I could almost hear the voices of my friends and family, who had tried so hard to encourage me to let go of my guilt. There was still so much of it burrowed inside me, but maybe I could let go of this one piece. It was a huge piece, and too much for me to carry around forever. I had looked outside of myself for a way to let go, reaching out to Mills and even Zelden. But in the end, no one could give me what I had to give myself.

Forgiveness.

“I did not kill him.”

The shadow became dimmer and smaller until it was merely a dark ball hovering near the stove.

Cautiously, I approached it and reached out my arm. My hand went through it. I felt a coldness, as if I was plunging my fingers into snow.

“I am not guilty,” I murmured.

The small shadow curled up until it fit into the palm of my hand. I gazed down at it, amazed and confused.

But not afraid.

I blew on it lightly, as if I was blowing a kiss, and it was gone.

“Where are we going again?”

My sister frowned. “No talking until I’ve finished your makeup.”

I was perfectly capable of applying my own makeup, but Annalise had insisted. I guessed it was another way for her to relieve her guilt over not being around during my visit. We were going to a special dinner, she said. Then she ironed my wrinkled green dress and ordered me into a chair so she could make sure I looked “my best.”

“I’m happy going to one of our regular places,” I told her as she brushed eye shadow over my lids. “It doesn’t need to be fancy.”

“Trust me. You’ll want to look good for this.”

“And I only look good in a dress and foundation?”

She shook her head. “Stop trying to pick a fight with me. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes and it’s going to be great.”

“Okay, but you’re not all that dressed up,” I pointed out.

She handed me a tissue. “Here. Blot your lips.”

I did as I was told. Annalise inspected her work and, apparently satisfied, decided to get herself dressed. I waited in the living room. It was amazing to me that only hours earlier I had confronted the shadow in the kitchen, that I had found a way to end my night stalker. My own guilt had created it. My own words sent it away.

I had tried calling Noah several times earlier in the day to tell him all about my encounter, but my calls kept going to voice mail until finally a computerized voice told me that his mailbox was full. He had probably left his phone at school, I thought. I would see him in less than twenty-four hours, though. My story could wait until then.

When my sister emerged from her bedroom, she was nowhere near as dressed up as me. Instead, she wore a short denim skirt and a T-shirt.

“Seriously?” I got off the sofa. “If that’s what you consider formal, I’m throwing on a pair of jeans.”

“Oh, no, you’re not.” Annalise grabbed her purse. “We have to go. I don’t want you to be late.”

I hurried after her. “Don’t you mean you don’t want
us
to be late?” She ignored me. We got into her car, and for a split second I wondered if she was taking me back home so I could go to the Prom. But a glance at the clock told me that wouldn’t be possible: it was already nine, and even if we left now, we wouldn’t make it until nearly midnight.

Besides, I realized, we weren’t headed away from town. We were driving toward the beach. Maybe she was taking me to an elegant seafood restaurant. But soon we had passed the glowing signs of the stores and restaurants with which I was familiar.

“This place is really out of the way,” I said as we continued to drive toward the water. Annalise turned near the aquarium and parked. The building was dark except for a few outdoor lights.

“We’re here.”

I got out of the car. It wasn’t until I shut the door and heard it lock behind me that I realized Annalise hadn’t turned off the engine. She rolled down the passenger window. “Have a great evening, Charlotte.” She smiled in a way that told me this had all been a trap, that I had been set up for something positively devious.

“What’s going on?”

Instead of answering, my sister simply drove away, leaving me stranded in the empty parking lot. I watched as she drove away, half expecting to see the glow of her brake lights, followed by the white reverse lights as she came back to explain the joke. But when she turned out of the parking lot and disappeared onto a side street, I knew I was stuck.

What was I supposed to do? Walk back to her apartment at night? Not that I was afraid of the shadow any longer. My concerns had more to do with drunk tourists and the physical pain of walking over a mile in heels. If Annalise was playing a joke, it wasn’t funny. In fact, I was mad.

“Charlotte?”

I turned around, and even though it was difficult to see Noah’s face in the darkness, I knew his voice. I ran to him, excited and giddy and shocked. I hugged him hard then pulled back.

“You’re wearing a suit.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t have time to get a tux. This will have to do.”

“You’re my dinner date?”

“No.” He smiled. “I’m your Prom date. Come on.”

He took my hand firmly in his and led me away from the parking lot. We followed a narrow concrete path down to the beach. Once we hit sand, I stopped and took off my uncomfortable shoes. Noah did the same, but he also took off his socks. And then we walked, barefoot, onto the cool sand.

I wanted to stop, but Noah kept walking. He seemed to know where we were going, so I let him lead the way. After a minute, we reached our destination—and I gasped.

Thick candles had been lined up in the sand. Each one glowed with a tiny flame. Beyond them, soft waves licked the beach. I could see a small box near the middle of the space illuminated by the light. Noah leaned over and pressed a button. Music filled the air.

“You did this for me?”

He kissed my cheek. “Happy Senior Prom, Charlotte.”

He pulled me close and we began to dance to the music. “If I didn’t mention it before, you look amazing,” he whispered into my ear.

I smiled and rested my cheek against his shoulder. “And if I haven’t said it yet, thank you.”

I don’t know how long we danced. Hours, probably. I do know that when I looked up at the sky, I could see a million brilliant stars.

And one lone balloon, drifting toward the heavens.