“How’d you––”
“Magic.” She wore a nametag that read Brianna. “Which is far better than miracles.” Brianna smiled such an enigmatic smile, Denny wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not.
“I’m normally at the machine,” Brianna said. “That’s how I know. Every day, like clockwork, you come in here and order the same thing. People are creatures of habit. Then there are those of us who are just creatures.”
“Oh. Sure. Yeah. I’m––”
“Golden Silver. I know who you are. After the trial, everyone knows who you are. I’m just so sorry it happened to your family.”
Denny looked into a pair of sapphire eyes that spelled trouble in several languages. “Is that so? What else do you know?”
Brianna barely shrugged. “Your family lives in the old Holbrook house. Everyone who knows anyone knows who you are and where you live. I just happen to know what you drink in the morning.”
“Guilty.”
Brianna leaned over the counter, her eyes darting left and right before asking, “Is she still there?”
She may as well have slapped Denny across the face. “Umm...uh...”
Before Denny could answer, Brianna waved the question away. “I’m just messin’ with you, Golden. You know how much we Savannahans love our ghost stories.”
Denny felt a hot flush creep up her cheeks. “It’s Denny. I go by Denny.”
Brianna had not stopped staring at Denny. Her stare was a force field rooting Denny in place. She wanted to step away from the order line, but her legs would not cooperate. Nothing would move; nothing would work. She just stood there.
“I asked you why ‘Denny?’ Whatever for? A name like Golden is so weighty––so refined. If I had a cool name like that, I’d wear it proudly.”
Denny blinked. She hadn’t been aware of a question.
“Yeah, well...Golden Silver pretty much says it all.” Finally tearing her eyes away, Denny smiled politely and made a beeline for her tea waiting at the pick-up counter.
“Have a good one,” she said to no one in particular before sitting across the table from a handsome black man with a huge smile on his face.
“Oh my god, girl, could you
be
any clumsier?” the young man said, his smile revealing rows of white teeth in need of straightening.
Denny set her latte down and moved her chair so she was facing him. “Shut it, Victor.”
“Oh, hell no. She was practically undressing you with her eyes and all she got for her troubles was ‘
Have a nice day’
?” Victor shook his head. “Seriously? Girl, you need to get out more. She did more’n undress you with her eyes. She had counter sex with you, only you didn’t even notice. No, you left her hangin’ there.”
Denny restrained herself from looking back at the barista. “It’s flattering, Victor, but I’m...taken.”
He leaned forward and spoke without moving his mouth. “By a ghost. That ain’t taken. That be a fool talkin’, and you are nobody’s fool, Denny Silver. That woman over there? She’s the real deal.”
Denny pushed on Victor’s forehead with the heel of her hand. “Taken is taken.”
“Come on! Seriously? Damn, Denny, it’s been three years now. Three mother-fuckin’ long years. It’s time for you to live in the real world with the rest of us. Olly, olly oxen free! Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Denny shook her head slowly. Only Lauren and Victor knew about Rush, but Victor always had an attitude about their relationship and no qualms expressing it. “It’s all ye, all ye, all come out for free,” she said.
He tossed his head back and laughed. “God, only
you
would know that. Wait. No. You and Lauren. Two nerdy girls”
“Look, I never gave you shit when you were nothing but a booty call to that Robert guy, did I? No. No, I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut when––”
“When you shoulda said,
Victor you best be runnin’ the opposite direction for that dude gives me the creepy crawlies.
” Victor crossed his muscular arms across his barrel chest, challenging Denny. “But you didn’t. Thanks for that, by the way.”
He may have been a queen, but nothing about Victor Fleming shouted fag. At six feet, four inches of solid muscle mass, he wasn’t a guy anyone wanted to tangle with.
Including Denny.
“Creepy crawlies?”
“He gave me the clap. I told you that.”
“I remember.”
“Asshole. That was one time I needed your mass communications to step in and prevent my ass communication, know what I’m saying?” Victor cut his eyes to the counter. “She still lookin’ at you, Den. Look at them titties. She’s got more than you can handle, fo’ shur.”
“Let her look. I. Am. Taken. Get that through your shaved noggin!”
Victor studied Denny. “Naw, I mean, she lookin’ like...
through
you. Like she’s tryin’ to get inside that thick heada yours.” He shook his head. “Big fat wasta time that is. You ain’t seen the forest from them trees, girl, not so long as you and Rush are hittin’ it.”
“Quit it.” Denny flicked his right ear. “Anyway, back to the reason I am buying your coffee. Something has come up, and I need Ophelia’s help, but I want to run it past you first.”
Victor whistled. “I don’t know. Mama’s pretty busy these days. Those storms and shit bring out the need-to-know in people, but what you need her for?”
Denny inhaled deeply and told Victor about her visit with Quick. When she finished, Victor blew out a breath and ran his hand over his bald head.
“You don’t wanna be playin’ in them playgrounds, Denny. I mean it. You stay far and wide from that shit.”
“Let Ophelia tell me that.”
Victor locked eyes with her. “You know Mama loves you to pieces and would do anythin’ for you, but openin’ a door that’s been closed for so long?” He shook his head. “You just oughta be prepared for her to say no thank you and hand you a glassa lemonade.”
Denny nodded. “I can accept that. There’s no harm in asking...and I have to ask, Victor. If there is any way, any way at all that I can get to my mom, I have to try, no matter what the risks.”
“Here’s a good question for you. What you think your mama knows that Quick couldn’t or wouldn’t share?”
“I haven’t a clue. I swear to God, it’s the weirdest thing. I’ve never seen my brother so serious or so secretive. Ever. It sorta freaked me out.”
Victor ran his hand over his baldness once again. “What’s weirder is Sterling’s reaction. You sure that girl wasn’t adopted? She can’t evah seem to be onna same page as the rest of you.” He looked over Denny’s shoulder and stood up. “Gonna see mama now. I’ll let you know, but don’t get your hopes up.”
Denny knew why he had left so fast when she saw the barista headed her way. She silently cursed Victor.
“Mind if I join you?” Brianna asked, sitting down before Denny could answer.
Denny shook her head. “Not at all. Break time?”
Brianna chuckled. “Or something. Look, I’m sorry for being so off putting. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just...I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry? I missed that.” Denny glanced out the window as Victor bumped his two fists together before laughing and getting in his car.
“About the ghost. It’s just, well, I’m very familiar with the many ghost stories of Savannah. It’s a...sort of a hobby of mine, and yours is one I am quite familiar with.”
“Yeah. Everyone seems to think she’s still in the house.”
A few beats passed before Brianna whispered, “So, is she still there? Rushalyn?”
Denny leaned back. “You’re not
that
sorry, are you?”
Brianna blushed. “I have an innate curiosity for all things supernatural and you live in a haunted house. Do the math.”
Denny smiled. “So you really know about the Holbrook house?”
Brianna nodded. Her long, slender neck reminded Denny of a swan. “I know a great deal about things mystical, magical, and paranormal. Holbrook House, as you know, is on the magical map.”
This made Denny laugh. “Magical map? Seriously? Along with witches, doppelgangers, fairies, and elves?”
“Something like that, yeah. I’m sorry if it’s weird to talk about, but denying something doesn’t make it so.”
Denny relished the warmth as she wrapped her hands around the tea. “No worries. The house
is
haunted. All the guide books say so.”
“Do you always not answer questions?”
Denny sipped her tea and looked over the top of her mug. Brianna’s eyes were riveting and locked onto hers. “Not about ghosts, no. To be honest...it’s all pretty personal.”
Brianna nodded. “Fair enough. Then can I ask something about you?”
“You can ask all you want. I can’t guarantee an answer.”
Brianna leaned closer, her necklace falling into her ample cleavage. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Denny looked away before barely nodding. Suddenly, she was feeling very warm.
“Not the big black guy?”
Denny laughed. “Oh hell no. I love Victor with all my heart, but he’s gay. Super gay. Pink cape wearing kinda gay.”
“Really? Wow. I missed that one. Normally my gaydar is spot on.”
“Most people miss it. He’s one of those who never need a beard. One of the best guys you’ll ever meet, too.”
“I’ve found in life that good people attract good people.”
“Yo, Bri,” the other barista yelled. “You taking the day off, or what?”
Brianna threw down a punch card with her name and number on it as she stood up. “If you ever feel like answering any real questions, or going out to dinner, call me.”
Watching her walk away, Denny wondered if that day would ever come.
***
T
he demon driving the bus looked into the rearview mirror and smiled. Full bus.
Perfect.
The humans were such an amazingly trusting group. They lost kids to drunk drivers, to people texting while driving, to old folks who had no business on the road and yet, they kept piling their families into metal death traps and rolling the dice. Hell, even dolphins knew not to swim where the sharks swam, for Satan’s sake. It wasn’t rocket science to know that roads were pathways to death.
So maybe it was stupidity and not trust.
Whatever the reason, nearly one hundred thousand lives were lost on these paved roads of death each year––most of them were preventable, and yet, here they were.
Stupid
and
trusting.
They seemed content with never learning from mistakes. They had the technology to shut down cars if a drunkard got in it, but apparently, that technology was too expensive. Lives, apparently, were
not
priceless, and those in this bus were about to find out just how little they were worth.
With one turn of the wheel, the demon sent forty-eight more people to their deaths.
***
A
s Denny crossed the Quad, yelling and screaming from a drum circle caught her attention. Denny would normally have kept walking, with her head down, minding her own business, but something made her slow down and look up. She seldom interfered in other people’s drama.
Today, she interfered. Today, she waded through a small crowd to stop an enormous football player from harassing Brianna as she danced about the drum circle. He was taunting her and calling her names.
“Hey, fucktard,” Denny growled, slinging one back at him. “Back the fuck away from her.” Denny marched up to the football player and shoved him.
Denny was strong enough to move the player a couple yards and he stumbled backwards, looking stunned that a girl could actually move him.
“What the fuck are you thinkin’, girl? I oughtta pop your fool head like a zit comin’ up on me like that.”
Denny bridged the gap in three long strides.
In for a penny
. “I’m thinking,
Jethro
, that we stopped calling women
girls
back in the nineties. The 1890’s, asswipe.” Her voice held a strange tone to it. It was deeper. Lower. It sounded like someone else.
“You think I won’t hit a fucking dyke?” He raised his meaty fist and then turned to stare at it in confusion, as if he had never seen his fist before. “What the––”
His fist just held there, unmoving.
Before the football player could hit Denny, before his fist could regain its forward momentum, Victor stepped in front of Denny, his hands on his hips and his enormous arms stretching the fabric of his Polo shirt. Victor dwarfed the football player.
“You fellas wanna pick on someone who can fight back a little more fairly or do you just choose to beat up girls? ‘Cause I’m fixin’ to show you what happens when you pick on someone your own size. Or bigger.”
The football player slowly lowered his fist. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”
Victor stepped to within a couple feet of the player. “Do I
look
like I am? You wanna harass a buncha women––”
“They ain’t women. They’s witches.”
“I don’t give a shit if they’re wart hogs. You fellas need to just walk on by. Shut your idjit mouths and move on, or I’m gonna embarrass ya’ll in front of everyone here.”
The football player’s friends urged him to leave the women alone, that it wasn’t worth a fight. But he had to try to get in the last word. A huge mistake.
He looked at Denny and growled, “Rug munching cunt.”
Victor connected with a right cross that sent the guy flying. “Oh hell, no. You did
not
just call my friend the C-word.”
The guy’s buddies started toward Victor, who stood with his fists raised. Denny and Brianna stood beside of him, their fists raised, too. There was going to be blood shed, for sure.
“That’s enough, boys,” a campus security guard yelled. “Next punch goes to jail.”
“He hit me, man,” the football player said, rubbing his jaw. “He fuckin’ sucker punched me.”
The police officer strolled over to the player and sidled up to him. “Son. You want everyone to know you got your ass kicked by a gay guy, a lesbian, and a witch? Then, by all means, press charges. But if I was you, I’d rub my sore spot and walk away.”
The football player sneered. “Ah, to hell with it.” He joined his friends and they lumbered away like a pack of bears.
“Go on now, Victor. Get yourself and your friend outta here. Ladies, my apologies.” He tipped his cowboy hat. “I was called away. Carry on. Won’t nobody bother you now.”