Dirty Secrets

Part 27

The initial tide of rain had rolled through the neighborhood by the time Lyla got off the bus but the murky gray threatening sky and the light drizzle reduced her visibility. During the bus ride, her phone had buzzed multiple times, signaling what were probably texts from Darcy, but Lyla had no desire to look at her phone. Or even hold it. She couldn't get the threatening images of Keenan's reflection out of her mind.

In damp sneakers, she tip-toed around the puddles, blinking tiny rain droplets from her eyelashes. Across the street, Lyla noticed a woman wearing a wide-brimmed rain hat. When she spotted Lyla, she crossed the street and paced briskly up the sidewalk following her, closing the distance as Lyla approached the intersection.

Lyla turned the corner and sprinted toward her house, glancing over her shoulder. She bounded up her walkway to the porch. The woman in the rain hat trotted after her, her boots splatting through a succession of puddles.

Lyla produced her house key, jammed it into the lock, and pushed open the door just as the stranger jogged up to the house. Lyla slipped inside, slammed and locked the door.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. 

She crept into the living room, her heart racing, and peeked through the blinds. On the porch, the woman removed her rain hat revealing long dreads. It was Clarisse.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

"I need to speak with you."

Lyla didn't answer.

She rang the doorbell. "Lyla Perry." She knocked again. "This is very urgent."

"Go away," Lyla squeaked.

"Please listen to me. This is a matter of life and death."

From her vantage point at the living room window, Lyla saw the neighbor's window blinds moving.

Shit. Do I let her in?

She went to the door, her thoughts swirling. 

"The night of Darcy's party," Clarisse continued quietly, her face near the door. "The energy. The angry force broke in. He's powerful. He's able to take things over, isn't he?"

Lyla opened the door a crack.

Clarisse offered a terse smile. "May I?"

Against her better judgment, Lyla obliged. When Clarisse entered, Lyla took a cautious step backward. Clarisse reached for the doorknob.

"Just leave it," said Lyla. "Leave it open."

"You've seen people. Or maybe objects." Clarisse shook the rain from her hat. "Things that seem to be doing his bidding, right?"

Lyla peeled a strand of wet hair from her cheek. Clarisse sighed. She wasn't getting through.

"At the party, you were like the other ones. You thought I was playing a parlor trick. Like a magician. I tried to explain to your friend, Darcy. But..."

"Okay. I don't know how you did that. At the party. I was shook. Jack, too."

"There are different layers of consciousness beyond what we are experiencing right now as we talk to one another." She waved her hand over her head. "This, right now, is like the surface level of consciousness. What happened at the party was about the levels below the surface. The levels that I can tap into."

Lyla crossed her arms, her breath deepening. 

"You don't believe me."

Lyla didn't disagree.

"Think of it like this. There's an odor. Maybe the odor of food cooking. Or the odor of soap on your skin. You smell it. I smell it. A dog smells it. But that dog can pick up deeper things in that odor than we can. That's why dogs can be trained to sniff out drugs. Or locate people. Or find dead bodies."

She raised her hand to Lyla's face level, her forefinger and thumb about an inch apart. "This is what we smell." She held her hands a foot apart. "This is what that dog smells. It's the same odor. Because you can't smell all the dimensions you say they don't exist. Tell that to the dog."

Lyla felt lightheaded.

"I see pictures. I hear voices. Most of them pass through on their way along their journeys. But this one is a powerful signal. Very powerful. It won't pass through. It keeps coming back and it demands to be acknowledged."

Lyla's mouth went dry.

"Anger can create a strong force. Rage even stronger still. This one is very angry. This one won't rest in peace until he takes what he wants." She gave Lyla a penetrating look. "He wants you."

Lyla leaned against the wall for support. 

"In the dark realms, in the layers in between, he may find those who are lost, who can't find their way and use them like puppets against their will."

"Use them for what?"

"To help him to get what he wants here among the living. You've seen them, haven't you?"

Lyla clenched her eyes.

"Yes, you've seen them." Clarisse's voice sunk with resignation.

"So what do you want with me?"

"To protect you."

"How?"

"I left a line of salt around your house."

"Salt?"

"Beings from the dark dimensions cannot enter a circle of salt."

Here comes the crazy.

Clarisse peered through the open door into the front yard. "Someone must have swept it away. Your father, probably. And the rain. The rain may wash it away." She turned her deep brown eyes on Lyla. "Leave a line of salt on your windowsill. Across the doorway. At the very least, keep a bowl of salt in each room."

"What kind of salt?"

"Sea salt is best, but any salt will do."

Clarisse clasped her hands. "You must tell me what happened. With you. And Jack. And this... this snake man."

A jolt shot down Lyla's spine. Her eyes widened.

Ryan's car rumbled into the driveway, the headlight beams cutting through the mist.

"My dad. You need to leave," said Lyla. "Right now." She grabbed Clarisse's wrist, led her through the kitchen and to the back door.

"You are in danger, Lyla Perry. This energy is coming for you. You've seen it. I know you have."

"You need to go."

Clarisse reluctantly exited. Lyla recognized a knowing look in her eyes as she slipped into the backyard. 

The good news was that Lyla wasn't entirely insane. The bad news was terrifyingly obvious.