In the Lone and Level Sands (4 page)

“So, in the accident, you lost your memory?” Fred
asked.

“Yes,” Ben said. “Some things are coming back, but I
don’t remember a lot of other things. Dr. Barnum says it all might
just come back to me.”

“I hope so.”

“Me too,” Charlotte said. Ben smiled.

“You two seem good together,” Sara said. She stabbed
a piece of beef and dropped it for Angus.

Ben ate his stew mostly in silence, looking at
Charlotte from time to time. A smile crept onto his lips, and he
felt a little uneasy, but in a good way. He didn’t remember who
Charlotte was, but there was nothing stopping him from trying to
get to know her again.

The sun was setting as the four friends sat around
the table enjoying each other’s company.

6

Alone

Zoe Isaacs rode the bus to and from school every
day. The stop was about a mile from her apartment, and she would
walk in silence, and it didn’t bother her. She would often repeat
that to herself.

Zoe had lived in the apartment all her life. Her
father had died when she was young, leaving her mother to care for
her. When Zoe got old enough, the roles reversed. Because her
mother had been prone to illness, Zoe got a job at the age of
fourteen. The local grocery store didn’t normally employ people so
young, but they had made an exception upon hearing her case.

She worked at the salad bar, and by the time she was
seventeen, was promised a manager position. Zoe hated the job but
needed the money, so she accepted the offer, apathetically waiting
for the day she’d turn eighteen and be given a nicer nametag in
celebration of the glory that came with the promotion.

In Zoe’s senior year of high school, her mother died
of a cold. It couldn’t have been cancer or complications from
surgery or some freak accident; just the common cold, a case the
medicine couldn’t shake, and Zoe’s mother was gone one morning.

After her mother passed, Zoe decided to just carry
on. She’d stay in the same apartment, work the same job, and attend
the same school, at least for a while.

A while turned into years, and at the age of twenty,
Zoe found herself in the same situation she had spent her entire
life in, only more alone.

She couldn’t seem to find a reason for anything. No
reason to get up and move out, no reason to find another job, no
reason to go to a different school. She was getting by, with a
little extra money every month, and school wasn’t difficult.

Zoe would work her shift and then come home and do
homework or sleep, whichever took precedence. In the rare occasion
that she found free time, she would read or write. Always she would
listen to music.

It was time that could’ve been spent with other
human beings, had Zoe not been so shy. Throughout her life, in the
rare instance that she was able to make a connection with another
human being, whomever it was inevitably ended up on the backburner,
eventually driven away by Zoe’s lack of contact. And of course Zoe
didn’t have a boyfriend. She didn’t have any friends. She knew the
names of her co-workers and her classmates, she knew the driver and
the regular passengers on her bus, and she got along well with all
of them, but she didn’t truly let anybody into her life. She didn’t
know how.

If there was one thing Zoe had learned from what
felt like a life already too long, it was that everyone who gets
close eventually goes away. Zoe could take care of herself, it
seemed, but no one else.

It didn’t bother her at all, and she repeated that
nearly every night as she cried herself to sleep.

7

A Death in the Family

A small picture frame rested on a nightstand next to
a bed. The picture within was old, taken in Washington, and
featured a couple just married and standing before a ‘57 Bel-Air.
The couple in the picture was Charlie and Martha James, and at the
time the photo was taken, they were in love.

Glass littered the floor beneath the nightstand,
mixed with food and blood. The food was meant to be Charlie’s
lunch, the blood was slowly trickling from Martha’s knees. She
didn’t care, didn’t feel the pain as she knelt with her face in her
hands, crying and begging.

On the bed, Charlie James lay dead.

****

Emily James-Espinoza had written a list of things
she needed to grab from the store. She looked it over and then set
it down. Emily passed through the living room, where her daughter
Francine sat on the couch reading a book, and headed down the hall
to get ready to leave. When she returned to the kitchen to retrieve
the list, there were a few extra items on it. Her husband, Billy,
was rummaging through the fridge. “Billy!” Emily said, trying to
stifle a laugh. “What is this?”

“What?” Billy said.

“You know exactly what. You always add things you
don’t need to my list.” Billy turned from the fridge and looked at
Emily with one eyebrow raised and a big smile.

“Stop leaving it out and there won’t be any
unexpected items on there. Besides, I need all that stuff.”

“You need Heineken? And potato chips?”

“Yeah!” Billy said.

“And a Monster energy drink?” Emily asked. “Since
when do you drink those?”

Billy pointed to Francine, who had been engrossed in
her book until the energy drink was mentioned. She was laughing as
she set the book down.

“Come on, Dad!” she said. “Selling out your own
daughter?”

“We can both take the rap,” Billy said. Emily looked
at Francine.

“Those drinks are nothing but sugar.”

“I’m not worried about the sugar, Mom.”

“All right,” Emily said. “But don’t expect me to
cave so easily all the time.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Francine said before returning to her
book.

Billy closed in and tenderly flipped Emily around.
They met in a kiss, which she hadn’t been ready for. She smiled
when the kiss ended.

“You still meeting Beverly for lunch after the
store?” Billy asked.

“Yeah,” Emily said. “I still don’t know where we’re
going. I’m not that hungry. Might go to Barnes and Noble, get a
coffee or something. Depends on what she’s feeling.”

“You can walk around Hendrick’s Square, just make a
day of it.”

“I shouldn’t stay out too long. I have like thirty
thousand papers to grade for the summer school kids, plus the
laundry.” Emily sighed.

“I can help with the laundry, you know,” Billy
said.

“It’s okay,” Emily said. “We haven’t been able to do
anything together all week. I can see Beverly anytime.”

“No, you go. Your kids can wait another day for
their papers. They probably don’t care much anyway, if they have to
go to school in the summer.” Billy chuckled. Emily frowned at him.
“We can still do something tonight. Maybe go out to dinner? Just
the two of us?”

Emily pondered the choice for a moment, looking up
at Billy’s face. He had red cheeks accentuated by a short,
clean-cut, graying beard. The hair on his head was thin on top.
Light shined where there was no hair.

“Thanks, honey,” Emily said. “That sounds
great.”

“All right, I’ll see you when you get back,” Billy
said. “I love you.”

“Love you,” Emily said. She pecked him on the lips,
then walked toward the front hall.

“Bye, Mom,” Francine said. Emily flashed her
daughter a smile as she grabbed her purse.

“See you, Francine!”

****

“Did you get here all right?” Emily asked Beverly as
they waited in line at Starbucks.

“Yeah, just fine, Emmy,” Beverly said. “Tylor
dropped me off, think you can give me a ride home?”

“Sure.”

A child running by tripped on her shoelace and said
“Whoa!” as she fell forward, crashing face-first into Beverly, who
quickly caught her and gently stood her back up. “I’m sorry!” the
girl said. The girl’s mother promptly appeared.

“Beverly!” the woman said. “I told you to make sure
your shoes were tied before we came inside. You didn’t listen, and
now look.”

“It’s okay,” Beverly said. She looked down at the
little girl. “My name’s Beverly, too. Isn’t that funny?”

“Really? That is funny!” The girl’s mother looked at
the interaction between the two and smiled.

“Did she apologize to you, miss?”

“She did,” Beverly said. “It’s fine.”

“Good,” the mother said. She turned to her daughter
and smiled. “All right, now tie your shoe, and get your tiny
straw!”

The little girl nodded and looked from her mother to
Emily and Beverly.

“It was nice to meet you, Miss Beverly!”

“You too, honey! Have a good day!”

After tying her shoe, the little girl scampered
off.

“It’s not every day you meet another person with the
same name,” Beverly said, followed by a chuckle.

“Yeah,” Emily said.

They went to the register, ordered their coffees,
and sat at a table near the window. Emily felt great. She loved
spending time with her best friend, whom she’d known since early
childhood. Beverly had been there for all the boyfriends, the
parties, the break-ups, everything.

Emily’s phone rang. She saw one word on the screen:
Mom.
Emily answered.

“Hey, Mom, how are—”

“Honey, I-I have some bad news,” Martha said. Her
voice was hard to hear.

“Mom, you’re really quiet,” Emily said. “What
happened? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, dear, but your father…”

“Oh my God,” Emily said. Beverly looked at her. She
brushed a strand of black hair from her eye and mouthed
something.

What’s going on?

“Your father passed,” Martha said. “I don’t know
what else to say. I feel like I should say more… I just can’t find
the words. I’m so sorry, honey.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Emily said. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll manage. I have others to call, but I thought
you and Angela should know first.”

“Have you told her yet?”

“Not yet,” Martha said. “Next on my list. I love
you, Emily. We’ll make arrangements soon. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

“What happened, Emily?” Beverly asked.

“My dad, he’s gone. He died.”

“I’m so sorry, Emily. That’s terrible. I don’t know
what to say.”

“You don’t need to apologize, but thanks,” Emily
said. Her eyes began to water.

“I’m here for you, no matter what.”

“I think I—” Emily said. A sob interrupted her, and
tears flowed down her cheeks.

Around Emily and Beverly, people stared. Ignoring
them, Beverly stood up and moved to Emily to offer her support in
the form of a tight hug.

The
Hex

When he did it, it was like a very large
weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Norman was surprised it
hadn’t killed him, but that didn’t matter.

He had learned how to do it from the hidden
people, years ago. Finding them was difficult, but not as difficult
as learning their ways. They dealt in forgotten arts, what they
knew as a dark magic (but was, like all magic, only a science they
couldn’t understand), lost to the rest of humanity. At the time, he
had no idea if the myths about them were true, or if their arts
even worked. Worse, he had no idea if they would teach him. In the
end, they had taught him. Perhaps they had felt some sort of
kinship toward him, as he was already well-learned in similar dark
arts. Or perhaps they had grown tired of his presence and knew they
could not outsmart him, had taught him what he needed to know to
get rid of him. Whatever the case, they had taught him, and they
would never repeat that mistake again.

Soon after, he was able to test his new art,
and he quickly learned that the myths were true. The hidden people
had the knowledge he had sought so long and been unable to learn on
his own: How to change people. Could they have known he would one
day be capable of inflicting the hex upon the entire world?

It would happen at random, and it would
happen all over the world. Several million people would change in
the U.S. alone, and it would spread. He wished he would have been
able to control who it was; he had a few people picked out, but in
the end it too would not matter. The hex would spread until it
consumed the world. Whatever came after that didn’t matter. His
work was done.

Part
Two

The Beginning of the End

8

At the Belmont

Evan and Cynthia were all smiles as they
watched Mal dance across the stage, both proud of their daughter.
Cynthia turned to Evan and whispered.

“She’s a natural.”

“She sure is.” The lights came on, and Evan
was among the first to stand, clapping. Cynthia whistled. Mal
looked into the audience with a broad smile. The curtain dropped,
and Mal disappeared.

An old woman leaned into Cynthia and asked,
“Which girl is yours?”

“Mallorie. She was the one in front just
before the curtain fell.”

“She was lovely. She could really be a star
someday.”

“Yes she could,” Cynthia said, and smiled as
the audience began clearing the room.

****

Mal was washing her hands in the bathroom
with her best friend, Richelle, while their parents waited
outside.

“That was great!” Mal said. She looked at
Richelle, who had been all smiles up until then. “You were really
good out there!”

Richelle stood with her hands under the
running water. She didn’t move, even as steam began rising out of
the sink. Her face was blank.

“Richelle?” Mal said. She turned off her own
sink and wiped her hands. “Richelle, what’s wrong? Richelle!”

Mal reached over and turned the water off,
and then grabbed her friend’s arm. She shook Richelle, but that did
nothing. Mal could hear her breathing somewhat heavily. Then
Richelle’s mother, Amanda, walked in.