The End of Bliss

Her Aunt Rosie had a camera that could do that. If you looked through the lens while you pushed a little dial with your finger, the image would get bigger. It took a little while for the picture to come back into focus—but then you could do it again, and the image would get bigger still. Tammy had always liked playing with the camera. Liked leaning with her elbows on the windowsill, peering at birds in the treetops of the woods behind their house.

She was in those woods now. Without the camera. High in a tree.

It was night but she wasn’t cold. She didn’t really know how she kept ending up here, in this wood that ran along the railroad tracks. The good part was, Tammy was beginning to think her little jumps through time and space could be something she might eventually gain some control over. They seemed to happen most often when she was very emotional, and it wasn’t unusual for her to be emotional these days.

Every time she thought about her mom crying, she went into that dark, hot place, where she felt her insides burning. Then she could go places. Then she could find them. She had found them now. They were sitting on that flat rock where it had happened, wrapped in a blanket, on the bank overlooking the railroad tracks.

When Tammy had still been new to what was going on and things were still fuzzy, she had blamed herself. How stupid of you, Tammy, to believe for a minute that it could have been real! Did you think some fairy had sprinkled glitter all over your rotten life, and magically changed everything? Did you really think that Brad Stofer would ever dump his skinny, blonde cheerleader to take up with you? You? With your drunken mama, your long-gone black daddy, your uncontrollable kinky hair? Did you really believe Brad when he said he preferred a girl with some “cushion for pushin’” over that pile of sticks, Bliss?

Bliss. That’s a name that means perfect happiness. And Bliss Caulfield always seemed perfectly happy when she walked down the hallways at school with Brad Stofer on her arm. But there had always been whispers about Bliss. That she burned candles and bent others to her will. Tammy once thought she had seen that in Brad’s eyes—like he didn’t really want to be there.

When the news broke that the perfect couple, Bliss and Brad, were finished, people were surprised, but they were dumbfounded when Brad then started hanging around with Tammy Smith! “You’re different,” he had told Tammy, “You understand me. Bliss is so self-centered. So fake. But you, Tammy. You’re real.”

Tammy had been hard on herself then, but now, a year later? She forgave herself for her bad judgment. How could she have known? Brad had been her first. He had spread that old blanket down over the flat rock. He had invited her to lie down. He had made her feel loose and dizzy. He made her say, “Yes.”

After it happened, she was out of it for a while. She only remembered his face looking down at her, more intrigued than remorseful. Then Bliss Caulfield walked into the clearing. Then she did that thing with the candles and chalk marks and the chanting, “Rise up! Rise up to me!”

Tammy remembered them arguing then. Bliss muttering, “It didn’t work.” Bliss asking, “Are you sure she was willing? Did you hear her say yes?”

Tammy had no idea what it was that hadn’t worked. And she had no idea about much because that was during her really fuzzy time. She held only a vague memory of a screaming freight train, but her recall of her funeral a few days later was excellent. She remembered her mother, more drunk than ever, being held up by her Aunt Rosie and Aunt Cindy while Pastor Schaefer droned on about the terrible problem of teenage suicide, and youth’s need for Jesus.

Tammy redirected her attention to the couple on the rock. Bliss was complaining. “Tammy should have reanimated right away. She should have been available to us immediately! We’re going to have to try again.”

“Do you have any idea what went wrong?” asked Brad.

“I don’t know. Maybe I said the words in the wrong order. But I Googled it so I can do it right next time. And Brad, you’re going to have to turn on the charm with this next one. You really blew it with Stephanie.”

Tammy remembered Stephanie Montgomery. She was an enthusiastic, dorky redhead who played a lot of sports and always seemed happy. Everyone was shocked when Stephanie sliced her wrists open in the girl’s locker room one night after a game.

“My God, he’s stupid,” said a voice.

Tammy looked to her right and was surprised to see a pudgy, freckle-faced white girl perched on another branch. The lenses of the girl’s glasses glinted the moonlight, while an owl hooted in the distance. In the entire time since she’d died, Tammy had not run into another dead person before. She recognized the girl. They’d been in Home Ec class together, though she hadn’t known Stephanie particularly well.

“Stephanie? What are you doing here? In a tree?”

The other girl’s lips curled into a smile. “The same thing as you, of course. Keeping an eye on those two creeps. I come here a lot.”

“You do? Why?”

“Why not? At first, I kept finding myself in the high school at night, because that’s where they killed me. But those two come here often so I started coming here, too. It’s pleasant. There’s a nice view of the town from up here,” said Stephanie. “In fact, I was sitting right here when they murdered you.”

Tammy felt shocked. “You watched them murder me? And you didn’t try to stop them?”

“Give me a break! It takes a while to figure out how things work when you’re dead, doesn’t it? I’ll bet you’re still learning how to move around. Believe me. Had I known I could have done anything to help you at the time, I would have tried to stop them. But I wasn’t strong enough then.” Stephanie glanced down at the rock and grinned. “Oh, goody! They’re starting.”

Brad had spread the old blanket out on the rock. Bliss was teasingly peeling off her red sweater while Brad fumbled with his belt. Tammy turned her head away, but Stephanie’s eyes sparkled with interest.

Tammy stared at her. “You’re disgusting! You come here to watch them have sex? You like to watch that?”

Stephanie snorted. “No! But I like the way watching them makes me feel.”

“Same thing!” said Tammy.

Stephanie crooked her neck and smiled at her. “Really? Tell me then. What do you feel when you see and listen to those two?”

Tammy felt warmth growing on her cheeks. “I feel angry!”

“Yeah,” said Stephanie. “Me, too. But guess what? I like to be angry. I like to be furious! Did you know that rage is like electricity? You can generate it and save it inside you like a battery.” Stephanie climbed over and settled on the limb next to Tammy. “Try it yourself. Think hard about what Brad did to you. Tell me how it makes you feel.”

Tammy stole a glance down at the teenaged boy, standing over Bliss, showing off his beautiful body as he had once done for her. She felt tears burn her face, and she gulped down a sob. “He killed me! He threw me in front of the train. What did I ever do to him? Why did he do it?”

“Because that bimbo, Bliss, told him to, silly.”

“But why?”

“Why?” Stephanie gave her a hard look. “Haven’t you been listening to them? Those two have been trying to reanimate a corpse ever since freshman year! That’s why they killed me! That’s why they killed you! That’s why Bliss plans to kill again! She wants to obtain an undead servant, to do whatever degrading task she bids it to do, forever.”

“But we’re—we’re animated—aren’t we? How come we’re not their slaves?”

“Because Bliss and Brad are idiots, that’s why. They only worked half the curse. They always get it wrong. For instance, the subject must willingly submit. Brad should have done his homework before he tried his seduction moves on me. I like girls, not boys. And when I told him in the locker room that he was out of luck, he killed me. I never submitted to him.”

“But I did. I said yes,” said Tammy. “I was so stupid.”

Stephanie laughed. “You are a million times smarter than they are! That’s what I love about these two. You know, it never occurred to Bliss until now that she ought to have tried pronouncing that ancient Latinate curse over you—in actual Latin.”

Bliss’ giggling cut through the night. She screeched, “Oh, Brad!”

“Who do they plan to kill next?” asked Tammy.

“Bliss has been talking to Brad about some skinny girl with acne who plays the clarinet.”

“Who could that be? I know all the kids in the band and there’s nobody I remember who fits that description!”

“That’s who Bliss chooses for her experiments. The nobodies that nobody remembers. Nobodies like you and me.”

Tammy felt her anger catch fire like a match striking. “We have to stop them!”

Stephanie grinned. “Yeah, we do! So, get mad! Embrace your rage!”  She leaned toward the other girl. “Payback is delicious.”

Stephanie’s eyes had remained glued to the couple now writhing together on the blanket, but Tammy wanted to press her knuckles into her ears to stifle the sound of Bliss’ exaggerated moaning.

“But what about the next victim? The girl who plays the clarinet? How can we help her?” asked Tammy.

Stephanie smiled. “Don’t you get it? There’s no girl who plays the clarinet. Bliss is lying to Brad. She blames him for screwing up. Brad is Bliss’ next experiment.”

Bliss groaned, loudly, “Oh, yes! Oh, Brad! I’m yours!”

Stephanie cocked her head and looked at Tammy, smiling. “Does that sound to you like somebody submitting?”

Stephanie pointed at a transformer on an electric pole that overhung the railroad tracks. She held both hands upward. Tammy did the same. Soon she felt a tingling in her forearms and heat in her hands that grew so strong that it became difficult for her to keep them outstretched.

Stephanie breathed, “Bliss,” and with a rattle, a shower of sparks erupted from the transformer like a rain of diamonds in the darkness. The heavy creosote-covered utility pole shuddered, creaked, and tipped. Bliss screamed as the pole crashed onto Brad Stofer’s back with a sickening crunch, pulling with it strands of sparking electrical wires that popped and snapped like long, witchy fingers.

Tammy and Stephanie watched the fire crackle and burn for a long time. They talked about other kids at school and giggled about their sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Robinson. Tammy realized she had found a friend. When morning came, Stephanie said, “We’d better get busy. The linemen will be here soon.”

They walked together to the rock where the remains of the electrical pole still smoldered. As Stephanie had taught her, Tammy joined her, chanting, “Surge et servietus novis!”     

From within the blackened pile something twitched. A hand with crusty, burned fingers pushed itself upward into the chilly morning air.

“Hello again, Bliss,” said Stephanie. “Now we’re going to have some fun!”