Michelle nodded, then opened the silverware drawer and began putting utensils away. “They might,” she said. “But if that happened, it wouldn’t be the end of my life. I’d go back to what I was before. It wouldn’t change what I’ve done and it wouldn’t change who I am.” Michelle slid the drawer shut.
“Well, it’s fucking easy for you to say, Bubbles,” Joey replied. “You had a life before your card turned. I had jack shit. Except for my mother.” The thought of her mother made a hideous lump form in the back of Joey’s throat. She swallowed and tried not to cry. “I was just a kid when my card turned.”
And even though Joey had banished almost every moment of that day, flashes of what had happened would still swim to the surface. And she knew if she hadn’t turned into Hoodoo Mama, she would have died then.
“I know it’s easy for me,” Michelle replied gently. She dropped the towel on the counter and turned to face Joey. “And that’s why I need to do something to help you. If you’ll let me.”
Joey threw her sponge into the sink. “And what the fuck do you think you can do?”
Michelle grabbed Joey’s hands. “I can have Adesina go into your mind—into your memories—and she can … help you.”
Joey grew very still. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“You know that Adesina can go into your mind? Well, when we were in the PPA, after all the fighting had stopped and we stayed to help the children we’d found there, Adesina went into some of their minds and she … she took their pain away. She made them forget what had happened to them.” Michelle paused and then she dropped Joey’s hands. She picked up the dishtowel, folded it, and then hung it on the rack. “I stopped her from doing it because I didn’t like how depressed she got afterward.”
“Well, why would you fucking let her into my mind knowing that she’s already been in there once before and it wasn’t a fucking fun time?” Joey’s hands were shaking and she jammed them into the pockets of her jeans. “I don’t want her in my head. And I don’t want to remember. I won’t remember. Why should I?”
“I’ve been giving this a lot of thought,” Michelle said. “And I talked to Adesina about it—to see if my plan would even work. She’ll be in your mind, but not in the way she usually goes into someone’s mind. I’m going in for her. Well, more like with her.” Michelle rubbed her forehead and sighed. “I’m not describing this well. Adesina has linked two separate minds together before—by accident. So it’ll be difficult. But she wants to help. And given our time frame, I don’t see that there are any other solutions. So, yeah, I’m not going to be winning Mother of the Year anytime soon.”
“Fuck,” Joey said rocking back on her heels. She shook her head. “I don’t think I can let Adesina do that. What if she sees … something a kid shouldn’t see? What if you see?”
“Joey,” Michelle said, exasperation hard in her voice. “We can’t go on the run from these people. Christ, I can’t even figure out who they work for. You freak when your power is lifted. I think I have a way to fix that—or at least a way to make the memory this is triggering go away. You have to be okay with not having your power. Otherwise, they can get to you. And I can’t be here all the time. You need to deal with this. Yeah, it’s a suck solution, but it’s the only one we have. Do you really think I’d do this to my daughter if I could think of any other option? And may I remind you that Adesina is in danger from these assholes, too?”
“Honestly, Bubbles,” Joey replied as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “I’ve seen you do some pretty bad shit.”
“Yeah?” Michelle replied as she turned away from Joey and began putting dishes in the cupboard. “Welcome to the working world.”
It took another two hours of arguing before Joey finally agreed to let Michelle and Adesina into her mind—and then only with the understanding that if Joey gave the word, the experiment ended.
“Where do you want to do this?” Joey asked. They were in the living room, and Joey had cleared out the usual zombie guard because Adesina mentioned that they were stinky.
“It easiest when the other person is asleep,” Adesina said. “That’s how I found Momma. When she was in the coma.”
“Well, I’m not tired,” Joey said.
“We could go upstairs and use the guest bedroom,” Michelle suggested. “You could lie down and just try to relax.”
“Fuck,” Joey muttered as she turned and stomped out of the room. Michelle and Adesina followed her. And Joey couldn’t help noticing that Michelle didn’t say anything about her bad language in front of the child.
Adesina had a fluttery feeling in her tummy. She was pretty sure she could bring Momma into Aunt Joey’s mind. But once they were there, could Momma really protect her? Adesina loved Aunt Joey, but there were things lurking in the dark corridors and rooms there that scared her.
Aunt Joey lay down on the bed, and Momma lay down beside her. Adesina hopped up and snuggled between them. Aunt Joey’s body was rigid, her arms stiff and tight against her side. Momma rolled onto her side, reached out, and took Aunt Joey’s left hand. Aunt Joey sighed, then relaxed a little. And then Adesina slid into Momma’s mind.
It was a comfortable place for Adesina. Momma’s mind was like a big, open house. There were pretty views out the windows and lots of bright, airy rooms. There were a couple of rooms Momma wouldn’t let her go into, but Adesina didn’t mind. Momma had explained that some of it was grown-up stuff, and some of it was private.
And there were bunnies in Momma’s mind, too. Adesina liked the bunnies, but never could figure out why Momma had so many of them.
“Hey there, kiddo,” Momma said. She was standing next to the windows looking out at the view holding a fat rabbit. “You ready to do this?” She turned toward Adesina, put the bunny down, and Adesina ran and jumped into her arms.
“I’m ready, Momma,” Adesina said. And then she reached out for Aunt Joey.
One moment Michelle was in her own mind, or at least Adesina’s interpretation of her mind—and the next, she and Adesina were in the front entryway of a version of Joey’s house. But it was bigger than Joey’s actual house. There were corridors that spawned from the main hallway. Michelle saw that they were lined with closed doors.
“Joey?” Michelle yelled. She tried not to shout in Adesina’s ear, even though she knew she wasn’t really carrying the child in the crook of her arm. “Where are you, Joey?”
“Here,” Joey replied from behind her. Startled, Michelle spun around. There, in the multicolored light from the stained-glass windows in the front door, was Joey. She looked frailer and younger than she did in real life.
“You scared the crap out of me,” Michelle said. She reached out and touched the intricately carved chair rail that ran the length of the hall. “Your house looks different in here.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if that’s me doing it or the Pumpkin,” Joey replied as she slowly turned around and took in the front entrance and hallway. “I guess if I ever got around to sprucing the place up, it might look like this. And that front door is really fucking cool.”
Michelle kissed Adesina on the head and then put her down. “End of the line for you, kiddo,” she said. “I want you to stay here, okay? Aunt Joey and I need to go the rest of the way alone.”
“Wait,” Joey said. She brushed by Michelle and opened the first door on the left. “I did something for the Pumpkin.”
Adesina and Michelle turned and peered through the doorway. Inside the room were overstuffed couches upholstered in a faded chrysanthemum print. The couches were positioned in front of a large flat-screen TV. A couple of burly zombies played checkers on a table under the bay window. Several otters sat on the couches eating popcorn and watching cartoons on the TV. Adesina gave a squeal of delight, then ran into the room and hopped up on the couch next to the smallest otter.
Michelle looked at Joey and then cocked her head. “Really? Do otters even eat popcorn?”
“My head, my rules,” Joey replied with a grin that surprised Michelle. “Besides, Adesina really loves those otters.”
“I know,” Michelle said. “Weird, huh? I guess we should get going.”
Joey’s smile faded. “Yeah, I guess we should.”
“You’re going to have to lead,” Michelle said. “I have no idea where to start.”
“I do,” Joey replied. Her voice was sad. “It’s this way.” Then, much to Michelle’s surprise, Joey took her hand.
They went to the second to the last corridor leading off the main hallway and turned into it. There were sconces lining the walls here, but several of the bulbs had burned out. The walls were painted a dull grey, and the hall runners sported an undulating pattern in chartreuse, smoke, and brown. There were three doors along each wall in this hallway, and there was a door at the far end as well. Joey slowed, and Michelle had to tug her hand to get her to move forward again.
“I know you don’t want to do this,” Michelle said. “But it’s the only choice.”
Joey stopped in front of the first door on the right. “I know,” she said as she reached out and threw open the door.
Sunlight spilled into the hallway. They stepped through the doorway. The light was so bright that, for a moment, Michelle was blinded. She blinked, and blurry images turned into people.
Michelle and Joey stood at the top of a hill. Below them, a tall, willowy woman in a blue sundress was laughing at something a bandy-legged man standing beside her had said. She took a long drink from the tallboy in her hand. Around them ran a short, skinny, young girl.
“Mommy,” Joey whispered. Then she pointed at the little girl. “And that’s me down there, too.”
“How old were you?” Michelle asked. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the scene. Everything about it was golden and warm.
“Eleven,” Joey replied, her voice wavering. Michelle glanced at her.
“Why are you crying?” Michelle asked, perplexed. “You look so happy here.”
“It’s the last fucking happy memory I have.”
Michelle looked back to the scene. Joey’s hair was done up in braids, and she wore a pink T-shirt and overalls. She threw head back and laughed and laughed, the perfect image of her mother.
“Screw this,” Joey said. She yanked them out of the room, then slammed the door shut. The golden light was gone, and they were back in the gloomy hallway.
Joey dropped Michelle’s hand, then ran to another door and yanked it open. Michelle sprinted to catch up with her. Inside, Joey’s mother was sitting on a bed with Joey. Joey’s mother wore a tatty floral housedress and her hair hadn’t been combed. Joey was wearing a blue T-shirt with faded but clean jeans.
“I’m never gonna leave you, baby girl,” Joey’s mother said, her words slurring. She patted Joey’s head and toyed with her braids. “I don’t know where you get these crazy ideas.”
There was a sick look on Joey’s face. “You’ve been spending a lot of time in bed, Mommy,” Joey said, touching her mother’s cheek. “And you forget stuff. And you never want to eat anymore …” Joey’s voice trailed off.
“Oh, baby girl, you know your mother has a bad memory,” her mother said as she lay back against the pillows. Michelle saw now that Joey’s mother’s belly was distended and her skin was ashy. Even the whites of her eyes were yellow. Joey’s mother was ill—very ill. “Always have had a poor memory,” Joey’s mother continued. “There’s nothing to that. Your uncle Earl John is here to help me remember things.”
“Mommy,” Joey said, inching closer to her mother. “I don’t like Uncle Earl John. I don’t understand why you’re with him.”
“Baby girl,” her mother said as she pushed herself up again. It looked like it took an effort. “When you get older you’ll understand that it’s hard to make a living. Your uncle Earl John takes care of us. He buys us what we need.”
“I don’t fucking want what he buys,” Joey said in a surly voice.
Her mother slapped her across the face.
“Don’t you take that tone with me,” Joey’s mother said. Her tone was angry, but her eyes were scared. “And don’t you use that nasty language.”
Young Joey rubbed her cheek, and adult Joey mimicked her. Michelle wanted to say something to help, but she was at a loss. Her parents had been horrible, but at least they had never hit her.
Then Joey’s mother began to cry.
“Oh God,” she said, pulling young Joey into her arms. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I love you and I just want you to be safe after … I just want you to be safe. Uncle Earl John will keep you safe. He promised.”
“It was the only time she ever hit me,” adult Joey said, her voice hitching with tears. “She never let anyone touch me. Not ever. None of those cocksuckers she married. None of the ones she just fucked. They could beat the hell out of her, but never once did she let them hit me.” She pulled Michelle out into the hall again and slammed the door shut.
“Where to now?” Michelle asked. At the dead end of the hall was a door flanked by flickering sconces. She pointed at it. “What about that one?”
“No,” Joey said, taking a step backward while wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Maybe it’s what we’re looking for,” Michelle said, grabbing Joey’s hand and pulling her toward the door.
“Michelle, don’t!” Joey cried.
But it was too late. Michelle was already opening the door. She stepped through the doorway, dragging Joey along, and found herself on a rise overlooking a cemetery. A small knot of mourners was gathered around one of the small crypts.
Michelle saw young Joey. She as wearing a dark blue dress and was sobbing. Next to her was the man from the first room. He was rubbing Joey’s back, and the sight of that action made the hairs on Michelle’s neck stand up.
Abruptly, Michelle found herself in the living room of a shotgun house. There were casserole dishes laid out on card tables, and a group of women were fussing over the dishes and Joey. Michelle could see into the kitchen where a group of men were talking and drinking. The women in the living room clucked over the men’s boozing between attempts to get Joey to eat. But Joey just sat curled up on the ratty sofa and cried.
The scene shifted again. It was dark outside, and in the back of the house Michelle heard someone banging around. Joey was still on the sofa, her legs pulled up under her chin. Her face was vacant. The guests had left, and someone had cleaned up the living room.
“Hey, baby girl,” came a loud, slurred voice. Joey didn’t respond, but Michelle turned. The short man with bandy legs leaned against the doorjamb. There were sweat stains on his shirt, and he’d pulled his tie loose. It was the man from the funeral. Joey’s uncle Earl John.
“Baby girl!” he said louder. Michelle could smell the liquor on his breath. “You hear me?”
For a moment Joey didn’t answer, but then she turned toward him. “Don’t call me that,” she said in a flat voice. “No one but my mother calls me that.”
“Well, your drunk-ass, junkie momma is dead as a doornail,” he said, pushing himself from the doorjamb. He staggered into the living room. “All the money I spent on that lush, down the drain. But you, well, you’re going to fix it. Goin’ to clean my house, goin’ to fix my dinner, and goin’ to get in my bed.”
He grabbed her. Joey shrieked and tried to yank her arm away. But he held on tight and jerked her off the sofa.
Michelle instinctively tried to bubble—but nothing happened.
Of course not. This was Joey’s memory, and Michelle was just a spectator. And then Michelle realized that her Joey—grown-up Joey—was gone.
“Let me go!” Joey screamed, but her voice and face switched back and forth from child to adult Joey. “Let me go!” She kicked, but it didn’t do any good. Joey was just a skinny slip of a thing.
No. No. No. No. I don’t want to see this, Michelle thought. God, I don’t want to.
The memory began to fragment. Michelle found herself in a bedroom. A slice of light fell across the bed from the open bathroom door. The heavy smell of bourbon was everywhere.
The ceiling had a stain on it, a brown water stain from a roof leak. Joey remembered exactly how it looked. The edges were darker than the center. And then he was grabbing her legs and forcing them open. Joey screamed, and he released one of her legs and fumbled with his pants. The stain looked like Illinois.
There was a heavy weight on Joey’s chest. She couldn’t move. The world spun, and she thought she was going to be sick. She rolled over and started gagging. Earl John pushed her off the bed.
“You puke in the bathroom,” he said.
Joey crawled to the bathroom. The floor tiles were blue, and until today Joey had always loved the color of them. She lifted the seat on the toilet and dry heaved. Nothing came up because she hadn’t eaten in two days.
Something ran down her leg. She wiped at it. Her hand came away sticky and smelled like the river.
The memory jumped again. Earl John was holding Joey facedown on the bed. Joey pushed her face into the pillow and breathed in her mother’s smell that still lingered there. It was Mommy’s favorite rose perfume. Joey heard her own pathetic cries and Earl John’s grunting, but it sounded as if it were coming from somewhere else. Somewhere far away.
Then he was done and he rolled off Joey and went into the kitchen. There was the sound of the refrigerator opening, and a glass being filled with ice cubes.
Joey wanted to die. She could die here with Mommy’s smell in her nose. They’d be together, and she wouldn’t have to feel the disgusting stickiness between her legs anymore.
“You just stay like you are, baby girl,” Earl John said. “I’m going to break all your cherries tonight.”
Joey didn’t know what he meant. But she knew Mommy wouldn’t want him to touch her. Mommy never let any of them touch her. Ever!
Earl John threw back his drink and set the glass on the dresser. He started toward Joey and there was another jump in time.
Someone was banging on the front door. Then there was the sound of wood smashing. Earl John jumped up, went to the side table, and pulled a gun out of the drawer.
“What the hell?” he said as he turned around. Then he gave a high-pitched shriek. Joey rolled over and saw Mommy in the doorway.
“You hurt my baby,” Mommy said. But it was Joey’s voice that came out of her mouth. “I told you to take care of her.”