Sundown

Why am I here?

Crows call from the swaying branches of the trees, the wind sweeping through the open playground into the neighborhood beside the abandoned school. Cold air sways rattles the chains of the swing set behind me. I smell the old metal of those swings, of the nearby monkey bars, the dull sliding board, and the dirt of the abandoned grammar school playground. A shiver wracks my body as twilight sets in a place passing into decay.

But I don’t see decay. I see colorful leaves blowing through the sunshine, swirling in the cheers and songs of children, yet that same chill remains.

“That’s where she died,” Jenna says, standing at the back fence and staring at the small wood shed in the neighbor’s backyard. The playground is open and clear, but this house stands, silent in the shadow of tall trees swaying menacing branches overhead. Crows call overhead, two of them perched on the roof of the shed, their beady eyes studying us.

“That’s not true,” Clara says. “Emelia isn’t dead. She moved.”

Jenna turns, her green eyes wide. “That’s what they want you to think. The spirit of the sorceress in that house killed her. That’s why the cross is there.”

I stare at the cross stuck into the ground next to the shed and shiver. “What sorceress? It’s just a woman who lives there.”

The crows call. It looks like one of them is leaning forward, staring at us. I turn away

“She died a month ago,” Jenna says. “She cursed the house and school. She got mad when they built the school behind her home. She didn’t want us here.”

“That’s silly,” Clara says, although is true. The woman frequently looked out of the window and scowled at them during recess. Their parents said she was a grumpy old lady who didn’t want to move because she had always lived in the neighborhood. “Besides, she wasn’t a sorceress. That cross has been there since first grade.”

“No, it wasn’t. It showed up after Emelia disappeared last week.” Jenna turns toward the shed and holds the fence with her small, white hands. “They don’t want to scare us, but it’s true. The woman cursed the house, the school, and probably the whole neighborhood. Why do you think all the teachers come out while we’re at recess now?”

“Because they’re supposed to,” I say, pulling my pink sweater around me in the wind. It’s getting cold. I hope I don’t freeze trick-or-treating next week. “They always stand out and watch us.”

Clara turns toward the row of teachers surveying the playground. “There are usually two. I see seven now.”

“That’s because Emelia came back to play here after dinner, and the spirits got her,” Jenna says. “It’s almost Halloween, and they have the power to come into our woods and feed on our spirits. They hide in the woods. Didn’t you notice that the teachers don’t let us out here before and after school anymore?”

“It’s too cold in the morning, and the crossing guard said it was easier to get the bus kids out if we came out front,” Clara says.

“Enough with the ghost stories,” I say. “I think those stories in reading and social studies are getting to you. Clara’s right. Emelia moved. I don’t know why she didn’t tell us, but she was always quiet and funny. Her family was secretive, too.”

“I think her father’s pharmacy got in trouble and they had to move,” Clara says. “That’s what I heard Mom tell Dad the other day. She said it was shady business and he had to get out.”

“Exactly,” Jenna says. “Her father was selling illegal drugs. It’s bad energy, which opened the portal for the spirits.” She points to the abandoned building on the other side of the school near the main road in town, where more crows fly overhead. “It’s right over there. It closed, and they moved. But Emelia disappeared before that. Come on, it was just last week. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember studying Salem, Massachusetts in class last week,” Clara says. “Come on, let’s go swing. This is boring. Besides, I don’t like the way the teachers are looking at us. We should move before they tell us to move.”

A gust of wind blows across the playground, swirling our hair into tangles. The crows call again, all three of them staring at us. I pick up a small rock and throw it at the shed, where it bounces harmlessly off the wood. The crows jolt and go silent, staring with unblinking, beady eyes.

Jenna grips the fence again and stares at the shed. “I’ll be there’s proof in there. I’m going to find it.”

“How?” I ask.

“Girls! Get away from the fence!” two teachers approach us.

Jenna turns toward us. “I’ll come back after dinner.”

We walk toward the swings. The teachers turn toward the school.

“Tonight?” Clara asks. “In the dark?”

Jenna laughs. “No silly, that is dangerous.” She looks around the playground. “We eat dinner earlier on Fridays since Dad only works a half day. I’ll come around six fifteen, just before sundown.” She stares at us. “Are you coming?”

“I can’t,” I say. “It’s Friday. The family goes out to dinner and the toy and record shops downtown on Friday nights, and then we watch television and have popcorn.”

Clara sighs as she sits in a swing. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

~*~

Three small, wooden crosses stick out of the ground next to the collapsing shed. Time and nature crawl over both the shed and the house covered by vines, but memory withstands the elements. Spirit is pervasive and eternal. Time may heal living wounds, but residual energy taints reality. The chill was always in this corner of the playground, from that day until now.

The past holds nothing for you.

Does it? I put my hands on the rough, sagging fence, squeezing the bars until their frozen depth sting my palms. Crows call, making me jump. I see four crows on the roof of the shed, staring down at me.

Are those the same birds?

No, they can’t be.

I sigh, relaxing and lowering my gaze to the shed and the crosses. What happened in that place? What happened at sundown? Shadows sway, appearing and disappearing in the waning light. Soft strains of music brush my ears, a song from my childhood riding through four decades.

Sundown –

I take a deep breath, loosening my grip on the fence. I turned in a circle, surveying the gloomy school and playground. A murder of crows swoops through the pink sky, disappearing into the trees of the neighborhood.  Another chill wind blows through me, making my pink cardigan flap against my hips.

It’s time. Time to let go of the past. Time to accept the present. Time to move forward. Time to find my truth. There’s nobody to stop me now. The crows go silent and stare as I put a foot on a lower chain link and hoist myself over the fence, dropping heavily on the other side and stepping to the shed, staring at the crosses.

~*~

“Did Jenna say what she was doing last night?” Mom asks at the breakfast table the next morning.

I stopped chewing my eggs and swallow slowly. “No.”

“Clara’s mother just called. She caught Clara sneaking out of the yard after dinner last night. Clara said she was meeting Jenna at the playground, but they’ve never done that before. Did they say anything about that to you?”

I look down. “They said they thought Emelia used to go to the playground before dark by herself. They wondered why.”

Mom nods. “Emilia’s father owned the pharmacy near the school. He probably her play there when he was closing.”

“Why would you want to go back to school?” Dad asks, looking up from his newspaper. “I didn’t think you loved it that much.”

I scrunch my face, laughing at the gleam in Dad’s eye. “ I don’t!”

“So, they did say something about it?” Mom asks.

I pick up a piece of bacon. I don’t want to get my friends in trouble, but I don’t want to lie to Mom and Dad. “Jenna asked about it. I said no. Clara didn’t like the idea, either.”

Mom leans back. “That’s what Clara’s mother told me. Thank you for telling the truth.”

“Are we in trouble?” I ask.

“I don’t see where you did anything to get in trouble,” Dad says as he picks up the paper.

Mom glances at him, her eyes wide as she reaches for it. It rips in her hand. “Don’t!”

Dad looks at the torn paper. “Why did you do that?”

“I –” she stammers and stands. “I’m sorry. I’ll call the neighbor to ask if we can read their paper when they finish it.”

Dad sighs, puts the torn paper on the table, and picks up his coffee mug.

I glance at the paper and notice a picture and a headline that reads “Missing Girl.” The rip runs across the face, but it looks like Jenna.

~*~

Sundown –

The pink glow of twilight fades into darkness in the woods around me. Branches sway, creaking and thumping against the shed and the nearby house. I should have brought a flashlight.

What am I thinking? I should be out to eat. At the gym. At the library, or the store, or home. I should be anywhere but here!

But it’s an anniversary, and I can’t ignore the call of fate. It won’t stop until I answer.

Until the balance is restored.

Me, the smart one.

Clara, the practical one.

Jenna, the spunky one.

Emelia, the sensitive one.

Earth, wind, fire, and water. Perfect balance. Perfect symmetry.

And now, in this forgotten place, perfect silence.

The crows take flight into the darkness as I stomp over four decades of the fallen canopy, following the soft hum on the breeze; past the four crosses in the ground next to the shed. I reach out and push the door open.

~*~

“Why did you want to meet me here?”

Clara looks up from the swing, squeezed into the sagging, narrow strip of thick rubber. For a moment, I don’t see a thirty-year-old woman. I see my ten-year-old friend, pumping her legs to make the swing go higher, her blonde hair flying behind her.

Twenty years converge into this moment.

“I can’t believe they closed this place,” Clara looks around. “No, that isn’t true. I can’t believe they didn’t close twenty years ago, but I guess there weren’t  other grammar schools in the community  then.”

I settle carefully into the swing beside Clara. “Why do you want to be here today, of all days?”

She looks at me. Her eyes, once a brilliant blue, seem dull and flat. “How did you break free of the curse ?”

“The only curse is not letting go of the past.” I look around. “I guess I learned to live with it. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. We have good memories here. Remember how our parents and teachers said the four of us had perfect symmetry? They said we balanced one another.” I clear my throat. “It is sad to see the school closed. What do you think they’ll do with it?”

“Burn it to the ground, I hope,” she says. “You’re wrong.  We aren’t symmetry, we’re the sacrifice to the curse of this place.  Look at how it’s wasted away. The town has built up toward downtown, but this area has wasted away. There’s nothing good here.”

“Clara, there’s more than this school and neighborhood. I could have met you at the coffee shop.”

“Where that cursed pharmacy used to be.”

“Or at the library, or a restaurant. Anywhere but here. Why here? Why now, at this time of day? Why on October 23?”

She sighs, looking to the dark woods. “It’s calling me.”

I stare at her.

“I’m not crazy,” Clara says. “I’ve spent enough time in mental institutions, therapy, groups, medicated, and in different places to know that. They say ‘don’t blame yourself,’ but it’s my fault Jenna died. I could have saved her if I had met her like I said I would.”

“We don’t know that she’s dead,” I said. “It’s the same as with Emelia. How do you know you could save them? You might have disappeared too. We were kids.”

Clara smiles weakly. “You tried to find them too, didn’t you?”

I look away. “Yes.”

Clara puts a cold hand on my arm. I flinch, and resist the urge to pull away.

“They’re calling me. I must go.”

I jump to my feet. “You can’t go over there!”

Clara stands. “I have to. Can’t you feel it?”

“You don’t have to do anything. You always have a choice.”

“Do I?” she searches my face. “Did they? You know the balance of this place is off. It has been since the school was built in this neighborhood. It wasn’t meant to be this way. The only way to purify the energy is to sacrifice pure spirits of this land.”

“Pure spirits of this land?” I scoff, pointing toward the house. “That woman was no sorceress and it’s all childhood fantasy. You’re free, Clara. Embrace it.” I grab her arm. “Don’t go over there. It’s over. The place is closed, and they’ll probably tear it down. There’s talk of turning it into a park. That will purify it. Let it go, Clara. Stop living in the past. It’s gone. It has nothing for you!”

She smiles at me again, her face glowing. “The past is everything! Don’t you see? It’s all connected. There’s a reason why we’re called back. It feeds off people, but it’s been dying for decades and now it’s abandoned. Emelia was the first, and Jenna followed. We are bound to it and will follow. It needs us to survive. Otherwise, it’s a void.”

“So?” I asked.

“Nature abhors a void,” Clara puts her hand over mine and holds it in both of her hands. “I’m sorry. You are smart and resisted, but we don’t have your strength. It’s our destiny to preserve the natural balance of energy.” She looks around, holding her radiant face to the darkening sky. “It’s sundown.”

“Clara, this is madness,” I say.

“I made a promise. It’s time I kept it.” She squeezes my hand. “Now you promise me. When the time comes, promise to preserve our symmetry and heed the call.” She lets go of my hand as a gust of wind blows over us. “We’ll meet again.”

“Clara!” I shout, running after her toward the shed. I slammed into the chain link fence separating the openness of the playground from the darkness beyond. Crows scream in the trees overhead. I look up in the swaying branches and see three dark masses lift from the shed. I look down into the woods, but Clara is gone.

How did she get past the fence?

I steady myself, rattling the fence, hoping the noise will distract the neighbors. The houses in the surrounding neighborhood remain dark and vacant.

Is this whole neighborhood abandoned?

“Clara!” I shout. My eyes adjust to the dim light, and I notice a new shadow in a sliver of grey light next to the shed.

There are three crosses in the ground.

~*~

A warm glow lights the white room. I step into shimmering light, surprised at the space and illumination despite the decrepit building. A warmth wraps around me, pulling me inside.

“I knew you’d come,” a voice says. “It took forty years, but I knew you’d hear the call.”

Shadows rise around me, shifting into people. Two children, and one adult. The breath catches in my throat as one of the shadows takes my hand.

“Emelia?” I ask.

The olive-skinned child with shiny black hair and eyes smiles and nods. “It’s good to see you again.”

The other child takes my other hand. “Welcome home.”

“Jenna? Where have you been?”

“She’s been here all along,” Clara says as she wraps her arms around Emelia and Jenna. “We all have been. You are the strongest element, so you have grown the most. You will sustain us for years to come.”

“I don’t understand,” I turn to the door but it’s gone, replaced with a plain, white wall.

“Children aren’t as strong,” Emelia says. “It took the spirit of two to fuel the years.”

“What?” I ask.

“Even I could last only so long. We needed more. We needed you,” Clara says. “Welcome home. We’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” I ask.

“We’ve been calling you for a long time,” Jenna said. “The four of us belong together. Four elements, perfect balance, perfect symmetry.”

“The circle is complete,” Emelia says.

“This is impossible,” I say, looking around the white walls now covered in glowing sigils. More spiral around the floor, rooting my feet to the ground. The thin, glittery vines of script tingle as they wrap up my legs.

“Nothing is impossible,” Clara takes my hand. The light shimmers in her touch. “Don’t stay in this place. Come with us. There’s so much more than rusty fences and broken sheds. We use our tools to reap the best.”

“What?” I asked as the golden threads wrapped up my torso, squeezing my chest. “Reap what?”

Jenna smiles, her red hair blazing and green eyes sinking into dark orbs in the fading light. “Everything the darkness holds.”

“No,” I gasp, as the world turns this neighborhood into sundown.