Chapter 7: Dark Regressive

They were a little more exhausted and confused after everything that had happened at the apothecary that afternoon. Clare had decided to make the good gesture of inviting everyone back to her house for an early supper, if only so they could reflect on the strangeness that had brought their group together. Jolene couldn’t imagine summoning up enough hunger to stomach anything after spending a long time with the smell of Maeve’s festering leg, but the others didn’t seem to share her opinion, except perhaps for Theresa.

As far as anyone in town was concerned, Ishtar’s was already closed by the sign on the door, and it wasn’t as if it was ever thriving in the evening hours during the middle of the week. That’s what Mallory had said, having to practically drag Theresa back up the stairs and through the secret hatch in the floor. Theresa had mumbled quietly about not needing dinner as payment for her help, but it also seemed that she was deflecting because she was surprised to have been offered an invite at all.

The drive back had been quiet for Jo and Clare because Maeve had found rest in the back seat, her leg wrapped and odorless from the handiwork that Theresa had performed. Mallory had taken Theresa in her hatchback, following behind them back to Clare’s respectable cul-du-sac. The air was still hot outside despite the hour they returned to the house, and Mallory was as impressed as anyone when she got to lay her eyes on the ritzy back neighborhood of Benton.

They were all seated around on the contemporary fabric furniture surrounding the glass coffee table in the sitting room, quietly enjoying the peace that the eggshell white walls had to offer. It wasn’t an area of the house that Jolene had spent much time in before, except to open the drapes and windows first thing in the morning. It held a drab air, and was the least interesting room in the entire home for her. Even now it smelled of dust, and the potpourri that Clare insisted on keeping around.

“Your house is really nice,” Mallory said again as Clare returned with drinks on a serving platter. “I would love to live in a place like this.”

Clare’s small smile and flushed cheeks said enough about her humbleness. She quickly handed out a glass to everyone before taking a seat. “Thank you. It’s just me and Jo though, so it gets pretty quiet.”

“Hmm, I’ll bet it does. I’d heard about your husband you know,” said Mallory. “It’s sad you lost him so young.” She didn’t waste time on apologies over the loss with fake sympathy. That was something Jolene thought Clare didn’t need any more of. It made Mallory’s blunt feelings a welcomed change.

“It is sad,” Clare said quietly into her glass, taking a slow sip as she looked down at her lap. “But I’m fine.”

Neither Jolene nor Maeve knew how true that statement actually was, a concern they often discussed together when out of Clare’s presence. She put up a convincing front, but her days remained quiet and she rarely left the house. Maeve’s Pukwudgie incident was the first excitement that had spurred her into stepping out her front door for more than just the mail. As good a change as that had been, Jolene doubted if Maeve would now voluntarily keep being assaulted by magical creatures just to keep Clare busy.

“What do you plan on doing with the little troll?” Maeve asked, lounging across Clare’s chestnut leather chaise, her wrapped leg propped up on one of the decorative pillows.

Theresa gave a frown, setting her cup of sparkling cider down on a cork coaster that had the happy message of ’eat, pray, love’, stenciled in black. “He’s not a little troll, that’s an entirely different classification of beast I’ll have you know. You should read Lobelia Terrazas’s Critter field guide if you’re curious about the topic. It’s a good documentation of her travels from the Northern tip of Alaska to down on the coast of Chile, and all of the magical creatures she came across in between.”

“That sounds fascinating,” said Maeve, heavy with her sarcasm.

Jolene didn’t think it was such a bad idea though, and she typed out the title in her phone for later use. She was certain her mother would have a copy, and was convinced it was high time she made a visit to the little cottage by the lighthouse. Her worry over her mother’s criticism about her short departure from Benton was far from her mind, and she considered the idea of having an actual conversation about her privilege. It was a start towards something, and she wanted to know more.

“Anyway,” Theresa continued, as she fussed with one of the beaded bracelets on her wrist. “I’m thinking I’ll make a journey out to the woods soon, and release the Pukwudgie out there. It’s so strange that he came all this way into town. They aren’t exactly known for approaching a large settlement with humans.”

“Yeah, but all sorts of strange shit has been happening around here lately,” said Mallory. “My cousin Wyatt had a puffer weasel in his kitchen last week. It ate all the cereal he had in the cupboards.”

“They’re good luck to have around, you know,” said Theresa.

Jolene held back a frown, once again feeling useless with her lack of understanding. Clare and Maeve looked as embarrassed as she felt, as they showed expressions of cluelessness as well. It was getting a bit pathetic, how much they didn’t know. “Sorry, but what’s a puffer weasel?”

“Seriously? Bright blue weasels, their heads grow huge when they laugh? I can’t believe you’ve never heard of them,” Mallory said in disbelief as she explained about the creature. “It’s actually funny because the swelled head lasts for hours. Wyatt wanted to keep it, but I told him to let it go.”

“Some magical creatures have been known to be drawn to the strength of the privileged. That could explain why the Pukwudgie was in Maeve’s shed, and the puffer weasel at your cousin’s,” Theresa offered. “But it’s still curious that they would be anywhere near Benton to begin with.”

“What could that mean?” Clare asked her.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. When bizarre and unexplainable things happen, bad things usually follow. At least, that’s the way it’s always been in the past for our people,” said Theresa.

“We should do something,” Jolene spoke up before she had time to think about what she was saying. Clare was usually better at that sort of thing, but her spontaneity had her jumping at the chance to perhaps make a fool of herself, and she didn’t care.

“Like what?” Mallory asked with a frown.

“I don’t know.” Jo took a moment to pause, but she didn’t lose determination that came to her. “Clare, you said to Maeve and me that we should do something about our powers. I don’t think it’s any secret that we aren’t exactly as good as you two,” she said to Theresa and Mallory.

“Yeah, you guys don’t know anything,” said Mallory bluntly, fluffing her big hair. “It’s actually embarrassing.”

“There’s always room to learn though,” Theresa added hastily, with a disapproving look shot towards her apprentice. “I could help teach you some things, if that would work for you.”

“I was thinking something similar before, that we could combine our efforts to produce some really good results in our respective crafts. I think we all bring a bit of something different to the table because many of us don’t share the same privileges,” Clare said, her eyes bright with vigor. “I was thinking of having Sunday dinner here. Your cousin could come, Mallory.”

“Yeah, I’ll ask him,” Mallory said.

Beside her, Theresa fidgeted in her seat as her eyes darted to Jolene a moment before speaking up. “Can Alfie come too? I might be making a mistake asking because I know that might be awkward for some of you, but he knows a lot about his own privilege, and I wouldn’t feel right excluding him.”

Jolene could now feel all of the eyes in the room flitting over to her. When Theresa had spoken of awkwardness, there was no doubt that had been about her and the strained relationship that existed with Alfie. It wasn’t exactly a secret. “Alright, so we all know that means me.”

“I thought I knew you,” said Mallory, wearing an impish grin. “You’re the water girl who doesn’t like Alfie. You’ve been the talk at The Pyg’s Head a lot.”

“Your favorite watering hole, is it?” Asked Maeve.

“No, but Wyatt works there and I get free drinks sometimes.” Mallory turned her attention back to Jolene, scrutinizing with her pretty green eyes. “So what’s up with you and Alfie?”

Jolene made a face of annoyance, and her stomach clenched with an unpleasant tightness. This was the last thing she wanted to discuss with Alfie’s sister present. “I’ll spare you the details because it’s not really all that interesting. Stupid school stuff when we were young. I’ve moved passed it, and I’m sure he’s forgotten by now.”

Theresa let out a peal of giggles, which she quickly tried to cover up behind her hands. It was the loudest noise Jolene had heard her produce so far, and was of course at her expense. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you Jolene. But you’ve been away from Benton for so long, and you think so much has changed. Some people have come and gone, and the town has grown in size, but my brother is the same as always. His name might be different, but he’s as lost as always when it comes to you.”

‘I never asked him to be’, she wanted to say, but she swallowed her retort and shrugged. “Alright, invite him then.”

Theresa wore a kind look of relief. “Thank you,” she said.

Jolene nodded, not wanting to say anything else. Allowing Alfie to come to dinner didn’t seem like anything that warranted a pat on the back. She had already been in The Pyg’s Head and had managed to be in his presence, so dinner with friends should be easy work.

“So, what can everyone do then?” Asked Mallory, uncrossing her legs impatiently. “I’m just thinking we might as well share now since we’re on the subject. I’ll go first; I’m a primary transmitient and a regressive purifier.”

“Really? I thought you were a primary purifier because you work at Ishtar’s,” said Clare.

“I know most privileged wouldn’t waste time working on their regressive craft, but I haven’t found a good use for my transmitting skills except for when I wanted to skip taking the bus when I used to live in the city. I won’t ever be able to do all the things Theresa can as a purifier, but I figured it was better to learn something. My mom has already taught me everything she knows about transmitting, and I don’t know any other transmitients. We aren’t that easy to find.”

“Because of all the teleporting?” Maeve said smartly.

Mallory rolled her eyes and let out a huff. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“I’m a water speaker,” Jolene said, quickly changing the subject. “I don’t know my regressive skill yet, but I take after my mother as well.”

“Oh, an undiscovered,” said Theresa, beaming at Jo.

Mallory made a hiss of aversion. “I hated being an undiscovered, I felt like I was of half use. It was such a relief when my purification powers finally manifested.”

“We’re all undiscovered,” said Maeve, making a circular motion with her finger at Clare Jolene and herself.

“Actually,” said Clare wearily, bringing herself forward in her spot. “I found out about my secondary a little while ago.”

“What?” Jolene and Maeve both exclaimed at once. Throughout their friendship they had made a shared promise to never kept secrets from one another pertaining to their privileges, so to find out that Clare was no longer an undiscovered came as a surprise to both of them.

“I’m sorry, I know this is bad timing on my part. I should have told you both sooner, but I was scared to tell the truth.”

“Why?” Asked Maeve.

“Because,” she paused dramatically. “I’m a regressive resurgent.”

“Me too. I’m the white sheep in my family,” said Theresa, looking around nervously before growing quiet.

“Er—don’t you mean black sheep?” Maeve added, her eyes ranging over Theresa with puzzlement.

“Well, I suspect that my family, being all primary resurgents, are the ones considered black. That would leave me to be the white sheep, wouldn’t you agree?” Theresa said to Maeve, who eventually nodded.

“Clare, you didn’t say anything because of me, is that it?” Jolene guessed, a growing sense of guilt wilting her earlier happiness.

“No, not only you Jolene. I think I was trying to hide it from everyone, because I haven’t even told my parents yet, you know. Resurgence isn’t a privilege thought highly of in our community, never has been. I wanted to keep it to myself for a while.” Clare sniffed, her hands clenching white in her lap. “That, and my way of finding out in the first place.”

“How did it happen?” Jolene asked carefully, although she had a suspicion she already knew the answer.

“It was when Billy died,” Clare said in a small voice. “It was here in the house, upstairs. We agreed together that there was no point in his last days being spent in a hospital bed He wanted to come home, so he was brought back here, and I had hired a nurse to help with comfort measures.”

Everyone was silent. Only the sounds of their collective breathing, and the jingling of Theresa’s bracelets could be heard. Clare had not yet opened up about Billy’s passing since Jolene had become her houseguest. It seemed by her interest that even Maeve had not been allowed this story before. They sat with thinning smiles, letting Clare continue.

“One night we were just talking together, something we always did before bed. It was never anything earth shattering, just our interests or stuff we’d done during the week. Billy’s voice wasn’t quiet that night, like it had been in the hospital. The illness had worn him down so much that he seemed smaller than I could ever remember myself being, so I thought maybe this was a good sign, that being home was doing something for him.

“I left the room, only for a moment to get something in the kitchen, and to be honest I can’t even remember what it was now. When I turned around, Billy was on the front porch waving to me. It was startling to see him up. He looked strong, and he was smiling. But I was worried, because it was late into the night, and cold. I went to the door, and told him to come back inside, but when I stepped onto the porch he wasn’t there.”

Theresa made a soft sound of understanding, her fiddling fingers finally stopping their plucking on her chunky bracelets.

“I don’t understand,” said Jolene.

Clare shook her head, smiling sadly. “I didn’t at first either. I went running down to the street, yelling his name until the neighbors started to peek their heads out the windows. The streetlights were on, and I couldn’t find his shadow under any of them. I ran all the way into town before I stopped. I couldn’t run anymore, and I couldn’t find Billy anywhere. But someone found me.”

“Who was it?” Asked Maeve. Her mouth was pursed into a frown, but her voice remained steady.

“It was your brother,” Clare said, looking at Theresa. “Alfie found me out on the sidewalk, a little ways away from The Pyg’s Head. He understood what was happening to me better than I did. He brought me back here, and told me to go upstairs where Billy was supposed to be. And I did, and Billy was still in bed, only he was cold and gray. It was his ghost I had been talking to. Billy was dead, and I watched him leave this world forever.”

“Clare,” Jolene began, only to pause when she realized she didn’t have the right words to share.

“Well, that’s my little sad story for everyone,” said Clare, staggering to a stand, with each of her knees giving a ’pop’ as she stretched. “Excuse me, but I need a moment.”

Everyone watched quietly as she left the room. No one wanted to be the first to move. Jolene felt petrified in stone from Clare’s story. That she had suffered through her husband’s death alone, with only Alfie Sokolsky there to pull her back up from the gutter; it made Jo realize this was no longer the Benton she had grown up in.

“What a terrible way for her to find out,” Theresa breathed shakily. “It’s terrifying when you finally learn the truth. It happened when I was thirteen, my cat had died. I got lost in the woods chasing after him, and my family didn’t find me until the next morning, cold and muddy.”

“What happens to them – the ghosts I mean,” asked Jolene.

Theresa shook her head, as if guessing what she was thinking. “They don’t linger here long. They’re not meant to. Even resurgents don’t know the final resting place of the dead, but there is a realm between this one and the next that serves as a channel of communication between the living and those passed on. You both must know about it?”

“The Gray Canyon,” Jolene and Maeve said at once. It was another one of those tales from her childhood, and Jolene’s mother had used it to soothe her when questions arose about her father.

‘Daddy’s in The Gray Canyon, Jo, he can’t come see your Christmas play.’ And always her mother would look away, her mouth twisted in a bitter frown as she struggled with not saying anything else hurtful.

“I think we should go,” said Mallory, slowing rising from the sofa.

“Why?” Said Theresa, looking caught off guard by the suggestion.

“She just shared something very personal with all of us, but she barely knows me, and you two aren’t exactly friends,” Mallory said, causing a hurt look to take place on Theresa’s face. “She needs to be with people she cares about. Our welcome has worn out, and I don’t really want to spend another minute in this place.” It appeared Mallory’s initial enchantment with the spectacular house had dimmed upon learning that a death had occurred upstairs.

“We’ll see you back here on Sunday,” Theresa said, who moved with trudging steps. “Tell Clare to drink green tea, with chocolate. It will make her feel better.” Jolene couldn’t help but smile at the advice.

Maeve sat forward and said her goodbyes from the chaise, while Jo saw them over to the door. It was an orange colored evening, and she watched as their hatchback pulled away, passed the still parked Mass Cable Company van, and back down the road into town.

Jolene rejoined Maeve in the sitting room, feeling uncertain as she dragged herself down into a chair. She switched on one of the table lamps, bathing the room in a low, warm glow.

“I’m worried about Clare,” Maeve said first, looking confused. “Do you think she knows?”

“About what?”

“That ghost’s don’t wander around here – or come back for that matter. She can’t always be cooped up in this house waiting for Billy to return. We both know that’s not gonna happen.”

“I think that she knows better than we do, but she might not be ready to believe it just yet.” Putting herself in Clare’s shoes, Jolene considered that she would probably feel the same way over the loss of someone she’d loved.

Maeve leaned her head back over the curve of the chaise and let out a groan. “Things are going to get complicated because of this dinner now, aren’t they?”

Jolene smirked at her friend. “Our parents will be so proud.”

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” Said Clare, stepping into the room. She was smiling again, though her eyes were as red as they had been the day of the funeral.

“Because, we’re finally getting our butts together about our magic. I’m even going to visit my mom, and borrow some of her books,” Jolene declared.

“Really, you think she’ll let you leave the house with them?” Said Maeve, recognizing Doris Brock’s shut-in ways.

“Hopefully. If not, I’ll probably just distract her with the news of my lie about having never moved to Boston. That should buy enough time for me to smuggle at least five books.”

“Mallory and Theresa have gone?” Clare asked, noting the vacant spots in the room.

“Yeah, but they’re looking forward to Sunday,” said Maeve. “And I’m sure Alfie will be too.” She gave a wiggle of her brows at Jo.

“Oh, enough already,” said Jolene, but with less annoyance than usual. It was difficult to admit, but she felt an inkling of gratitude towards Alfie because of Clare. She needed to seriously re-evaluate her opinion on resurgents.

“So, are you going to work tomorrow, Maeve?” Clare asked.

“Nah, I think I’ll give it a day,” she said as she lifted her leg experimentally. “The kids are going to be in my face with questions. I need a good day to figure out a cover story first. What’s up?”

“Well, I was thinking we could watch a movie, like we used to do in Maeve’s house when we were in school.”

“Yeah, only the basement had mice, and all of those glue traps my father laid down were covered in dead insects,” said Maeve. Jolene gave a shudder at the thought.

“I’m infestation free at the moment, so we should be alright,” said Clare. “The theater room is downstairs, if Maeve can manage it.”

“I handled the hidden cellar steps of Ishtar’s, so this should be easy,” said Maeve determined, already pushing herself up on her good leg. She moved a small step forward, and gave a satisfied nod when her left leg didn’t protest the action. “I’m all set.”

“You two go ahead, I’ll meet you down there,” said Jolene, coming to a stand with her eyes set on the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Asked Clare.

“To make some tea.” Regrettably, all of her purchases were still at Maeve’s and would now remain there overnight. While Clare always had bags of tea in the house, Jolene wasn’t so sure she would have the other item she was looking forward. This was all based on the following of a suggestion, so it couldn’t hurt to ask. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s any chocolate here, would you?”

Clare stared at her with a squint of puzzlement, and Maeve snorted with laughter.