Open Dawn until Dusk

“We’re going to be late,” Janelle complained from the bedroom, her words clipped and tone curt. I could tell she was still a little mad. “We’re already late,” I quipped, flashing a smile in her direction. She rolled her heavily made-up eyes and scowled back at me, her mouth garish and exaggerated. I turned back to the mirror and continued to carefully apply my black lipstick so as to not smudge it on my skin. I always hated when I rushed my makeup and ended up with a ring of pigment lining the outside of my lips. So tacky. 

I slid my arms into my coat and did a twirl in the mirror, admiring my final ensemble. I’m not trying to seem conceited or anything, but I looked pretty good. My velvet black dress hung gracefully down my body, barely brushing the floor. Peeking out from under the lacy bell sleeves, my long black nails looked perfect. I braided my platinum hair so that it lay cleanly down my back in two long plaits. My pale skin almost seemed luminescent, accentuating my eyes and causing my sockets to look deep and infinite. Janelle watched me ogle myself in the mirror. She cleared her throat loudly. 

“Yes?” I asked.

“Are you ready to go? It’s a quarter to midnight,” she looked at her watch compulsively.

“Yes,” I grabbed my purse. “Do I look alright? It’s not too much?”

“You look great, Val,” she admitted.

“Thanks,” I exhaled. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Janelle looked down at her simple cotton dress and shrugged. 

Usually ten minutes long, the walk from our apartment to the cemetery seemed to drag on for hours in tense silence. Colorful autumn leaves crunched beneath our thick boots. Children ran door to door eagerly, clinging to bags overflowing with candy, their parents only a few steps behind. A full moon sat high in the sky and laughter filled the crisp air. 

I found myself stealing glances at Janelle. Her expression was sour, but she still looked pretty. Her small nose was all scrunched up like she smelled something rotten. She kept opening her mouth, as if to say something, and then promptly closing it, sternly deciding against it. I kicked a rock as we walked. A golf-ball sized grey thing. I brought it a whole four blocks, just propelling it forward with the toe of my boot.

“Can you stop doing that?” Janelle said abruptly. 

“What?” 

“The rock,” she pointed.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I gave the rock one last kick before continuing forward. 

After an eternity, we finally arrived at the gates of the cemetery. Above the iron bars was a beat-up sign: Greenwood Cemetery, open Dawn until Dusk. A large padlock held the gates shut. We shimmied through a conspicuous gap in the bars, a few yards to the right of the entrance. Without any streetlamps, the cemetery was only illuminated by the light from the moon, which cast long shadows in the darkness. I could see the silhouettes of figures, a gathering of half a dozen women in long black dresses standing at the Northern end of the cemetery. Instinctively, I reached out to grab Janelle’s hand as we approached, but she pulled away, her fingers slipping through my grasp. 

“Look who finally decided to show up,” a raspy voice cut through the darkness.

“This one took hours to get ready,” Janelle replied with a snarky laugh, elbowing me.

“Guilty as charged,” I confessed meekly. “It’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, you look great,” the same woman replied brightly. “I’m Raven.”

Raven smiled at me, the creases around her eyes crinkling ever so slightly, and pulled me into a tight hug. She smelled of pine and lavender. The other women in the pack smiled politely and introduced themselves, a flurry of names and handshakes. They all wore long black dresses and metal jewelry that clinked as they moved. A woman called Hazel stood in the center of us. Around her neck was a ruby amulet and on her head sat a long black veil.

“Okay, okay, enough small talk. It’s almost midnight,” Hazel uttered. A hush fell over the circle of women. The lit candle in her palm illuminated the underside of her face so that her chin looked sharp, her complexion severe and pallid. I grabbed two bundles of sage from my purse, one for me and one for Janelle. Our fingers brushed as I passed the stick to Janelle, but she still wouldn’t meet my gaze. I watched her as she swatted away the thin stream of smoke gathering under her eyelashes. 

“We are gathered here tonight, on Hallow’s Eve, as a tribute to our fallen sisters,” Hazel started. “We perform this ritual to honor their spirits, may they thrive in the Shadow Realm.” Hazel pulled a silver flute from the knit pouch around her waist and began to play. The music was light and ominous, the sound of a passing breeze. Everyone hummed and chanted along with her tune, I struggled to follow along, emulating the sound of Janelle’s voice beside me. We passed around the golden chalice and each took a sip of the thick, warm liquid. The bitterness got caught in the back of my throat, causing me to sputter and cough. Janelle shot me a dirty look, as if I was being disruptive. 

Hazel lifted her hands to quiet us. She motioned towards Raven, who fumbled with the basket at her feet. She procured a bundle of flowers, Althaea flowers she told us, and passed them around, one for each of us. We then set off to choose our individual gravestones to place our charms of protection. I walked a few paces and knelt in the dirt in front of a gravestone which read Dahlia Brockton, 1904 – 1988. I planted my flower, patting down the dirt so the delicate white flower stood attentively. I could hear the other women whispering prayers into the dark in front of their gravestones, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. “Umm, please protect this coven,” I whispered, “And uh– Thank you and I hope you are safe in the Shadow Realm.” I tried to think of some rhyming charm to place on the grave, but nothing came to me, so I just bowed my head in respect, placing my face on the soft grass. 

When I was done, I dusted off my dress and stood to rejoin the circle of women. Raven grabbed my hand to the left and Hazel to my right. Janelle stood across from me, grasping the hands of two other witches whose names I couldn’t recall. In the center of the circle, Hazel placed an offering for the spirits: gold coins, eucalyptus, dried rose petals, and tiny folded papers on which each of us wrote our deepest secret. 

“We offer these gifts to you, oh Spirit Sisters of the past,” Hazel spoke into the night sky, “Gold for prosperity, eucalyptus for purification, rose petals for love, and secrets for trust and faith.” We repeated after her, and thanked the spirits for their continued protection. We were quiet then, listening to the whistling of the wind. When I closed my eyes, I could hear joyful voices in the distance. Raven blew out all the candles and packed them away into her basket. The others began to disperse, hugging their goodbyes, confirming plans to see one another again this weekend. 

“Ready to go home?” I approached Janelle.

“So early?” She raised an eyebrow, “I, for one, could use a drink.” 

“Want to hit up The Ace Club? It’s just down the block. I hear they make a mean Witch’s brew,” Raven interjected with a laugh. 

“Sure,” I conceded, although the last thing I wanted to do right now was brush up against drunk millennials in polyester costumes. 

“Hazel?” Raven invited her to join us. 

“Why not? It’s Halloween!” Hazel responded. 

When we got to The Ace Club, Janelle made an immediate bee-line for the bar. I danced near the front with Hazel and Raven, careful not to gyrate my body too much in order to avoid any unwanted male attention. My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Janelle among the masses. When she failed to rejoin us after thirty minutes, I started to worry and weaved my way across the sweaty dance floor. I finally found Janelle sitting at the bar, five empty shot glasses on the counter in front of her. She sipped a sixth drink, something clear and bubbly with a citrus garnish poking out the top of the tumbler. 

“I was looking for you,” I yelled over the loud music.

“Well, I was here,” she replied, her tone icy. 

“You’re still mad.”

“Detective Valentina, you always were so– so astute,” she slurred. 

“You’re drunk.”

“She’s at it again! A genius!” Janelle took a large swig of her drink.

“Can we go outside and talk?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” She turned away from me. 

“If this is still about earlier–”

“You just think you know everything, don’t you.” 

“I think it’s time to go home.” 

I helped her down from the bar stool and slung her heavy arm around my shoulder. Whenever she was drunk, Janelle’s feet seemed to give out on her, causing her to collapse to the floor spontaneously and then pop back up as if nothing happened. She tried to resist me as I dragged her out of the bar but gave up quickly. Raven and Hazel caught us near the door. “It was great to meet you guys, but I think this one needs to get home,” I apologized with a wry smile. “Get home safe. Happy Halloween,” Raven said loudly. We hugged and said goodbye.

The air outside seemed far more frigid after spending the past hour inside the stuffy bar. I shivered in my dress. “Why are we going home? I want to party,” Janelle drawled. “Let go of me. I can walk.” She stumbled out of my arms. She was absolutely insufferable like this.

“We need to go home,” I kept my tone even.

“You think you know everything,” Janelle said again. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, okay? I didn’t know you were in the other room when I was on the phone and I just– It’s been difficult for me. You know that. All of this is so new and my mom is so weird about stuff sometimes and–”

“You’re embarrassed of me.” Janelle’s eyes were glassy.

“No, no. I’m not. I promise.” I grasped her hands in mine. “I love you.”

“That’s not what you wrote,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She turned away from me, fixing her hair behind her ears. 

“What did you say?” I asserted.

“I said, that’s not what you wrote.”

“Not what I wrote where?”

“In- in your secret.”

My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. I was gasping for air, I couldn’t breathe. I felt someone had punched me in the stomach. I sat down on the curb and pressed my warm cheek against the chilled pavement. I was underwater, thoughts swimming about haphazardly. 

“I– I don’t know what you–” I stuttered.

“Quit the act, Val. You left your paper on the kitchen table and I saw it.”

“It was a secret. I didn’t mean for you to read it.”

“Obviously.”

We were quiet for a while after that. Just sitting on the curb outside The Ace Club, the heavy bass of the trap music inside vibrating through the air. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. Janelle just nodded. I reached for Janelle’s palm and interlaced my fingers with hers. “I do really like you,” I told her. She nodded some more. I struggled for more to say, but no words came. 

“We should go home.” Janelle released her hand from my grasp. 

The Uber ride back to our apartment was quick and quiet. Janelle didn’t say anything else to me. I could tell she was still tipsy, but our conversation had sobered her up tremendously. Janelle went to change and I sat on the couch, munching on leftover Halloween candy. When she came out of the bedroom in her pajamas, she had a blanket in tow. 

“I think I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” she told me.

“Oh, alright.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I love you,” she told me.

“I love you, too,” I replied habitually, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

Janelle shook her head disappointedly. “Goodnight, Val.”