Denice Marciner

I gasp and grip the steering wheel as an overwhelming energy force draws a chill from my body. It flees as quickly as it comes, like I pushed through a thin film at the town line. I feel it run down my spine and a shiver shakes me. I search my review mirror unable to find anything but the back of the “Welcome to Craterville, Waspen” sign. I’m not crazy, there’s something there, I felt it pulse against my skin. 

I keep looking as if the transparent film is going to magically become visible.

A horn pulls my attention from the review mirror and I gasp as a green truck lurches to the side of the road nearly missing the front end of my car.  

“Shit!” I yell. I’ve veered into oncoming traffic! Quickly pulling my wheel my body bounces between the door and the middle console as my tires erratically make their way into the correct lane. 

Why do I keep letting dangerous things happen to me because I’m not paying enough attention? 

Quickly I glance in the rear view making sure the truck safely makes it back onto the road. I can’t be responsible for more than one persons death in the same 10 hours. I sag into my drivers seat placing both hands on the wheel to steady myself. This is what I get for spending seven hours in the car alone with no stops. It’s finally taking its toll on me. After… the incident I ran back to my car at the bar, jumped inside, and drove. I didn’t realize I was coming here until about 20 miles before the town line. And now I’ve convinced myself there’s a barrier around the town and almost crashed. 

“You’re going insane, Randi.” I whisper.

You’re not going insane, you’re home you’re safe. Until the next thing inevitably happens.

They say the first sign of insanity is responding to yourself.

My hand swats at the door, It’s suffocating in here. When my hand finds the button I’m looking for I roll the window down sucking in the fresh air along with false relief. I can’t tell if it’s real or my imagination as the heat from outside surrounds me. My fingers claw at my throat, the smell of smoke shaking off the leaves of the trees triggering the memory of burnt flesh. 

I try to hold my breath and fail.

“You have to keep breathing you cannot pass out in this car.” I tell myself.

I reach to roll down the last 3 windows and the wind plowing through transforms into screams against my ears. Pulling to the edge of the street my body sways forward as my car screeches to a stop. I throw my hands over my ears trying to block out the sound but covering them from the outside does nothing to quell the screaming my brain is conjuring up. My head falls back into the headrest and I look out the open window. 

Dirt lines McClears boulevard, the only entry and exit into Craterville. The dryness of the dirt, confusing in comparison to the dew covered moss climbing the trees just 100 yards away. The sun begins to set on the front porch of the Sunde’s ranch – the house marks the town line for locals.

I thought being here would help, seeing my home. Smelling this air. It would make a difference, but instead. I… Everything is over powered by the last few hours. My fingers shake around the steering wheel. I have to get out of this car. The sooner the better. I pull back on the road.

My lungs expand a little easier when the dirt lining the road turns into little businesses. But only for a second because now I can see people, and they can see me. Heads start to turn and whisper the further in I get. I guess I should expect it, I haven’t been back since pop packed us up and left 13 years ago. We never looked back. But right now, there’s no place I’d rather be. 

A smile tilts the corners of my mouth when I pass Colleen’s daycare. I met my best friend there. Jacie. I didn’t have time to call her to tell her I’m coming. With the whispering happening as I drive down the street chances are she’ll know before I’m able to park my car. My stomach gets heavy at the thought of the third degree she’ll give me. I’m not ready to answer any questions. I just want to get to my family home. At the thought of being home my eyes look toward the tree covered hill behind the stores. Craterville is a small town, aesthetic for taking pictures in the entry ways of the mom and pop shops and then passing on to your actual destination.

What most tourist don’t know is layered into the trees that climb the mountain houses the 3,000 residents of Craterville. It’s the best kept secret. 

I turn onto Pratt Avenue and am immediately enveloped into the sound tunnel of trees. And the tension in my shoulders begins to uncoil. Gravel crunches under my the spin of my tires. Non of the streets off the main road are paved. I wait for the space in the trees with the bright red mailbox. And turn into our extended drive way. I don’t know why dad kept this house. But right now, I’m grateful he did.

Finally the large modern-rustic house, surrounded by garden beds full of dewy moss comes into view. The dark paint a stark contrast to the motion lights that illuminate it at my motion in front of the house. It’s quiet, abandoned. Except I know that not to be true. Pop send someone by to clean regularly. 

I grip the door handle and pause, sucking in a breath. It’s been so long since I’ve been here, I don’t know what I’ll see when I open the door. My fingers slip from the door handle before I wipe them against my pants. I push the door open stunned by how familiar it still smells; like wood and vanilla. The black leather sectional strategically placed between the brick fireplace and the kitchen island. I stare at the mantel, fingering the lat photo of my family. If I would’ve know it would be the last picture I might’ve wrapped my arms a little tighter around mom. Brushing the coils of her hair and tawny skin, I’d do anything to remember how she felt. My eyes sting and I walk away before the tears can fall. 

You’d think I’d be all cried out.

“It feels so good to be home!” Jacie yells. The door swings into the wall.

I turn taking her in, “Jace.” The whisper falls out of my mouth as relief sags my shoulders.

Her braids sit in a bun on top of her head. She’s panting like she ran the entire driveway. Excitement bouncing around her brown eyes. Orchid brown skin glowing from the sun shining through the floor to ceiling window on the other side of the living room. 

We both run toward each other, arms wide open.

“Randi.” She cries into my ear.

She pulls us apart and looks at me. Her head gently tilting, her dough eyes take me in the same way I did to her. 

“You ok?” I question softly. I know it’s been a while but she’s looking at me like she’s never seen me before.

Her hand waves in between us swatting away what I know she wants to say. “Yeah.”

Pulling my shoulders back into her embrace. Maybe I’m being paranoid. It’s been a while since we’ve seen one another but we keep in contact as much as possible. Phone service with the ability to have long distance calling is a bit sporadic in town. I melt into her embrace.

“I’m so happy to see you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

My arms tighten around her, tucking my face into her shoulder. Paranoia returning. I can’t answer that question. How do I tell my best friend that I not only killed someone but I also shoot flames from random places on my body? Although, if there was anyone I could tell, it should be her. She would help me get answers.

Instead I respond, speaking into her shoulder. “It was spur of the moment and I just wanted to come home.”

“You’ve been saying that for years. I started to think you’d never do it.” She pulls us apart again.

“Yeah.” I spin away walking to the kitchen. 

Turns out running away without packing any clothes, hygiene is on par for my decision making skills lately. How could I allow myself to walk home alone? We have a buddy system after the bar for a reason. But you didn’t want to burden anyone since they all came together. This little voice in my head says. I press my hands into the counter. There’s no food here. I need to go shopping.

“Well clearly somethings going on.” She mumbles.

The stool in front of the island scrapes against the hardwood as she sits in it. The abrupt sound making my shoulders jump. I hold onto the handles of the cabinet above me. My eyes close and I pull a breath. Don’t look back it’s just Jacie, don’t look back. You’re safe. I remind myself.

Finally letting that shaky breath go I unclench my jaw and slowly turn. “What if I just say I really missed you?”

I know the smile on my face isn’t as big as I want it to be.

Her arms cross above the counter and she leans her chin into her palm. “Then I’ll say you’re full of shit, but I’ll let it slide for tonight because you look like shit.”

I roll my eyes at her. If only she knew how the extent of me looking exactly how I feel. I stare out of the back window. The trees sway back and forth in the wind. I can almost feel the boom of their shakes. My body vibrates, the sounds of waves rushing past my ears.

“Randi!” Jacie yells. “Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” Shit, what did she say? “Yes, I’m listening” 

“What did I say?”

I should’ve seen that coming. “Do you want to run errands with me tomorrow?”

We both stare at one another waiting for a response. “Feels different here, doesn’t it?”

She starts eyeing me. “Things always do when power shifts.”

I turn my head to the side pursing my lips. She knows something, I don’t know what she knows. Jacie has been my friend since we were three years old. I can see it in her eyes; she’s holding something back. 

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” She responds quickly.

It’s bee a rough 30 hours I don’t think I have the emotional energy to handle whatever is sitting below the surface of this conversation.

“You good?” She looks over a glass of water I didn’t even see her get.

The edges of the counter cut into my hands, “Just tired, the drive was long.”

“And abrupt.” Her sharp tone makes me keep my eyes the ground. I can tell it’s killing her not to ask why I’m back. My fingers dig into my chest at the thought of her asking.

“I’ve been driving all day.” I slap the counter and stand up straight “I’m going to bed.”

“I’m staying with you.” She says leaving no room for questions.

She’s only staying in hopes of breaking me down, it’s written all over her face.

Walking from behind the kitchen island I head toward the hallway just past the mantel. Memories are scattered across the walls. I take a second to take them all in. Everything here is still so…us. Jacie steps into the room across from mine, eyeing me as she closes the door. It was basically her room when we were younger. Stepping in to my room, I nibbled at my bottom lip. Younger me is on display every where I turn.

Piles of books line the one teal one wall in the room. Mom wouldn’t let me paint the entire room a bright color. So I chose the one across from my bed so I could look at it when I laid in bed. And somehow the wall became the backdrop to everything in my room. I run my hand over the cool yellow blanket lying across my bed, exhaustion taking over when I sit down.

Fire rushes by me and I scream. So close I can feel the heat. Reflection of yellow, blue, and red rage through the living room. I try to lift my hands to cover my ears, flames are not rushing past me, they are me. I watch them as flames continue to flow from my hands. I am on fire. I can’t tell if the screams in the room are me, him, or the flames soaring around. But I can feel something scraping the inside of my throat. I shake my hands but the inferno doesn’t stop. And the firestorm covered body doesn’t stop spinning.

“Randi!”

Hot, it should be hot. 

“Randi!” I jump at the sound of my name. 

Cool air hits the back of my neck where sweat drips. I take in my surroundings. I’m home, in my room. My chest heaves for air. 

I’m home.