Idol Mini Week 8 - Bycatch

Trigger warning for one vague allusion to some kind of childhood abuse.
<----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->


 "Is it dangerous? I've heard stories..."

 

"You have nothing to fear, child. I am experienced in the ways of the spirits and have set many wards and protections around this place so that only those invited may enter. Now place one finger lightly on the planchette and hold the other hand above your head, palm out. Focus your mind on the loved one you wish to speak with."

 

Carrie did as she was told, and fixed her brother's face in her mind. Her brother... her twin... the only person who knew everything. The only one who could ever understand. Of all the losses, this one was the only one that tugged at her heart, that brought her to tears of grief almost daily. The reality of moving on without him was still a cloudy, impossible puzzle, but knowing he was OK might be a step in the right direction.

 

She'd driven past this shop a hundred times, and often smirked to herself wondering what kind of chump paid good money to a "psychic" who worked out of a shabby brick ranch-style house sitting at the back of a half-acre of lawn that displayed a black-on-white PSYCHIC READINGS sign next to a gigantic neon one that read OPEN. But when she discreetly asked around, quizzing a co-worker who was into astrology, and the Stevie Nicks wanna-be behind the counter of the witchy shop near campus, they both said that Bonnie Rowland was the real deal.

 

Bonnie was making some unintelligible humming and muttering sounds, and Carrie slid her gaze around the room. It was just what she had expected – a "grandma shabby" living room with afghan blankets draped over couches and chairs, a worn braided rug, and a dining room table covered in a shiny black-and-red cloth. The bookshelf against the wall held tarot decks, incense and incense burners, feathers, bones, and all manner of weirdness.

 

"Are you there?" Bonnie's shout startled Carrie out of her reverie. "Tell me your business! What is your name and why have you come here?"

 

The planchette under her forefinger began to move back and forth, left to right, in a long oval swoop. Carrie cut her gaze to Bonnie's hand, touching the other side of the light wooden pointer, hoping to determine if she were pushing it. She could almost see light between the planchette and the other woman's finger, the contact was so delicate.

 

"T," Bonnie intoned as the letter became visible through the window of the planchette. Carrie gasped. "I" came next, then "M." Had Bonnie done a google search on her before she arrived? But all she'd provided was her first name.

 

The planchette returned to the center of the board. "Tim, do you have an answer to Carrie's question? Do you have a message for her?"

 

"F. R. O. M. D. U. S. T. T. O. D. U. S. T."

 

"Tim, are you ok? Are you in a good place?" Carrie heard her own words come out in a hoarse whisper.

 

"F. R. O. M. T. O."

 

"From to? From, to..." Was it a clue? A code? "Timmy, tell me what happens now. Are you ok? Am I?"

 

"H. E. R. E. ... W. A. T. C. H. I. N. G. ... F. R. O. M. D. U. S. T."

 

The planchette swiftly zoomed to the corner of the board where "Bye" showed through the little window, and back to the center of the board. Carrie hadn't noticed the buzz of energy humming through the planchette until it was gone. It was just a little piece of wood again now.

 

Bonnie spoke a few formal words about closing the channel of communication, blew out the candles, and nudged an iPad with a payment screen toward Carrie. "Is yours a religious family?"

 

"Is my... no. No, not at all. 'From dust to dust' is from the bible, right?"

 

"It is. This message had many layers. I hope you found what you were seeking today."

 

Carrie had not.

 

She had more questions than ever as she drove away. Why would Tim tell her "from dust to dust"? That was something about ending up back where we started, made of dust – did he mean his body was dust now? Was that good or bad? She didn't really understand the coming from dust part – our souls came from God or something if you believed in that, and our physical bodies came from...they were created by...

 

That's right! You've almost got it, don't let that train of thought derail! Har har!

 

Carrie screamed and slammed on the brakes, skidding across the shoulder of the road, narrowly missing the gulley just beyond it.

 

Raucous laughter rang in her head, in a voice she hadn't heard in almost two decades but recognized instantly. Hands shaking, she put the car in park and turned it off. Her breath came in panicked gasps and her face was wet with tears she hadn't realized she was shedding.

 

For fuck's sake, girl, you never did have no sense of humor. Thought maybe gettin' a few years on you would change that. Life's full of crap and plenty of it's worse than me, so quit yer yammering.

 

"This is not real, this is not happening, you are not here! I'm just stressed, and that psychic lady's incense made me high or something. I just need some sleep. My imagination is running away with me. Everything is fine. Psychics are frauds, I was stupid to go there but everything is just fine."

 

Heh heh you go on and think that if you want, but it don't change that we're together again now and I'm not going nowhere. Dust to dust, get it? Back to where you came from.

 

"But I'm alive, you fuckhead! I'm not dust!"

 

Nice language, girlie. Watch yourself. I know you're alive. But your brother did the dust-to-dust dance – he returned to the dusty old coot that made him, get it? Now you called him to you. He's part of me again and you called him. We're what you call a package deal now! Psychic lady closed the channel between you and the spirit you called, but you didn't call me... 

 

As the voice burst into laughter again, Carrie sobbed against the steering wheel. The flashing lights of a patrol car pulling in behind her reflected on the control panel, and she raised her head to look.

 

This is gonna stay our little secret, you hear me? Just like the other thing always was. You remember what I said would happen if you told back then. And they'll think you're batshit crazy if you tell anyone about this now. Good little girls keep their daddies' secrets. We'll be just like two peas in a pod again.

 

A knock on the driver's-side window made her jump. "Ma'am?" came a voice. 

 

Carrie tried to lower the window and realized the button didn't work with the engine off. She opened the door halfway and turned up the corners of her mouth in a courteous smile. "Good afternoon, Officer. Is there a problem?"

 

"That's what we're checking on, ma'am. Is everything ok here? Do you need a tow truck?"

 

"Oh! No, completely fine. I just pulled over for a moment to...to take a phone call. Everything's just fine. This little girlie don't need nothing you got to offer!" Carrie slapped her hands over her mouth in horror.

 

"Uh... we're just doing our job, ma'am." He paused, looking into her face intently. "Are you certain you're alright?"

 

"Thank you. So much. Officer. I'm. Definitely. Fine." Slowly, mentally inspecting each word before allowing it out of her mouth, she followed the reassurance with the brightest smile she could muster. "I'll be on my way if that's alright." Inside her mind the rough and raucous laughter was making it hard to think clearly. 

 

The trooper nodded, touched the brim of his hat, and said, "Drive safe out there," before returning to his patrol car. 

 

She watched him in the rear view mirror, then tilted it down to view her own face for a moment. She looked like herself, just stressed and scared, except...her eyes. They were alive in a manic, electrical way, with an oily green light shifting around and across them. Carrie grabbed the trash bag hanging from the gearshift knob just in time to catch the contents of her stomach as it rose up and out. 

 

Several deep breaths, a sip of water that she spat out on the pavement beside her car, and a twist of the ignition later, she was pulling back into traffic. She moved over to the left lane, made a U-turn at the first red light, turned into the driveway of the shabby brick ranch house at the back of a half-acre of lawn, and banged her fist on the psychic's front door until it opened.