Chapter 25: Rory - Entities to Lovers

I don’t know what I expect when I arrive back at Ye Olde Spirit Shop, but it’s not flickering lights, a gaggle of customers fleeing from the store, and…Nickelback blasting from inside.

My mom guards the front counter with the cursed radio in front of her, twisting the knobs, but nothing changes. When I first spotted the relic online, I thought it might be a cool addition and the description said it had the ability to communicate with the real world. It actually ended up being dull and lackluster, but we kept it in case some local ghost hunters could figure out how to retrofit it for their needs.

For the first time in a week, Ezra’s not at my side. In fact, he pleaded for me to go, said I was the only one who could handle this situation, and he was right. I’ve made it across the city without any major catastrophes. The worst was missing a train by a split second, and stepping in gum (on my favorite boots, but I will survive), but that could be chalked up to any day of the week. I may be noticing hiccups more, hoping one day I’ll find some sign that Temperance has lifted our curse and freed us from her grasp. Maybe what we need is a test of faith by being apart.

I hope Ezra’s right and this is the kind of choice Eddie warned us about. We chose to be afraid instead of crumbling in the face of it. I have everything crossed that this was the show of bravery we needed to display to get out from under Temperance’s thumb.

Ezra has to meet with his supervisor and I need to defuse a raging radio. We can do this.

“I’m here!” I announce, skeleton keys jingling above the door at my entrance.

My mom turns around, and she lets out a full-body relieved sigh.

“Thank god.”

To the average person, the feeling inside Ye Olde Spirit Shop is never quite right. It’s full of auras you can’t shake, items that move without cause, and spiritual energy inside every display case because everything here carries a history. It’s a passageway to the past and a channel for these items to live on. I’ve long gotten used to the strange happenings within these walls. It doesn’t mean they’re all good and it doesn’t mean these specters can’t hurt us. I know that better than anyone.

Judging by the inside of the store, it can definitely hurt the electrical.

“What happened?”

“Someone expressed interest in it!” my mom cries, still over the sounds of Nickelback. “They wanted to see if it worked, so I plugged it in, and everything went haywire. It started playing music, making all the lights flicker.”

As if on cue, the lights do flicker again, but this time with a sharp hiss that sounds like sizzling bacon. The music is loud and crackly, with occasional strikes of static between lyrics, which makes it even worse. Occasionally, a sample of another song will blip in, like the world’s worst DJ.

“The owner didn’t say it was volatile,” I argue. “They told me it had an interesting way of speaking with people! Like, through music. Like Bumblebee! You know, from Transformers.”

I can’t believe I have to shout over the sounds of “Rockstar,” but here we are. Something is off, because this started happening when Ezra and I were still together. I don’t think I can blame this on Temperance, unless it’s her final test.

“I’d say this is interesting.” My mom winces like her brain’s about to melt out of her ears. “I even like Nickelback!”

“I don’t know if you will anymore. Did you unplug it?” I ask.

I sound like an overworked IT specialist asking a boomer if they turned the computer off and on again, but when my mom raises the unplugged cord at me, I know I am dealing with so much more than incompetence.

“Shit.”

“I know,” she says.

Then, suddenly, the music stops. The lights flicker again and the chimes rattle like there’s something here with us. My mom dashes through the store and locks the door. The last thing we need is a lawsuit if this angry spirit decides to drop a clock on a customer’s head. The risk is too high if we have some kind of malevolent entity on our hands. We have The Out There coming in a few days and it’s Halloween week.

The store goes eerily quiet, and the air stills so much, it’s suffocating. The rain strikes the windows, and a flash of perfectly timed lightning flickers outside. Then thunder rattles the building. Between the heavy storm clouds and the lack of light in the shop, it’s exactly the kind of place you’d expect a haunting.

It’s the kind of silence that preludes a jump scare in movies, like opening a door to a horrifying sight or something appearing behind the unsuspecting protagonist. I listen to everything around me. I don’t know yet if this spirit is truly harmful or if it’s just misunderstood and trying to be heard.

“We know there’s someone here,” I tell the spirit. I keep my voice calm and measured. “You’ve made yourself known. You’re causing a bit of a problem for us, huh?”

I feel the same trickle of anticipation up my spine as I do with the most powerful spirits—like Temperance, but this isn’t her. No…this is different, but not entirely unfamiliar. It can’t be…

I contemplate the radio. It’s the last kind of device I’d find threatening, and it looks like it needs someone to wipe off years of sticky residue from spilled drinks or old food, maybe even a little bit of grease around the knobs. It’s the sort of item stuck in an attic until someone throws it out.

“Can you do something that shows us you’re listening?” I ask. “What if you turn a knob and change the channel? Play us a song. We’ll let you pick.”

“Maybe not Nickelback,” my mom mutters.

I shake my head. “No, you can play Nickelback if you want. We’re open to listening to you,” I reassure the spirit.

I lean over the counter and stare the radio down. Whatever spirit’s taken root inside this device, I need to show it I’m not scared, but I am. I’m afraid of doing this without Ezra here, not knowing if his lack of presence is going to unleash something horrible on me or the store. It’s a risk to play with dark things without a source of light.

The opening melody of “Hello” by Lionel Richie croons through the tinny speakers. I smile.

“Good,” I tell it. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why are you wrecking my mom’s store?”

The song crackles and dies, transitioning to pure white noise. The hardest part about speaking to spirits is learning how to navigate the conversation in the most constructive way. Some are clear and communicative, like if they particularly want to speak to a surviving loved one, they come through strong and clear. And as with people, some ghosts are tricksters. They can be manipulative and difficult. I’m getting the sense we might be dealing with that here. I usually start gentle, before pushing harder.

“Did you not like being plugged in? Is that the problem?”

My mom shakes her head. “It still had a fit when I unplugged it.”

“All right, so the plug isn’t the issue. If we keep it plugged in, maybe it can communicate clearer,” I instruct. She plugs it back in, and a blip of affirmative music plays. Great, we’re on the right track. “What is the problem? Are you trying to reach someone in particular?”

The radio crackles again, but then the knob on the front twists just slightly.

“You’re doing good. We can’t help you unless you tell us what you need, okay? I’m a medium. I want to help.” Something in the radio screen glimmers, like sand fidgeting inside an Etch A Sketch, wanting to be seen. I pull the radio closer to me and stare into the screen with intention. “I see you moving around in there. There’s no need to be shy now.”

“It sure wasn’t before,” my mom grumbles. “Scared a whole group of customers out.”

When the radio doesn’t speak again, I return to my alcove and rummage through my bureau. I pull out a bundle of mugwort, light it, and let it smoke before bringing it over to the radio. I wave it around the device and it crackles as I move in front of the speakers. Mugwort is used for cleansing and warding off malevolent spirits, so if it’s responding negatively to it, I might have figured out its nature.

Found…you…the radio sings in two different song blips.

Paralyzing shivers run up my spine. My fingertips are cold and tingly. It happens when I encounter particularly strong spirits sometimes, but this is so familiar. I felt it as a little girl, hiding in school bathrooms because I was too petrified to face my peers; after my first kiss; when I began my psychic business. And now, when I think I’m teetering on the edge of falling in love with Ezra.

“Who did you find?” I ask it.

Instead, the radio plays a laugh, like a snippet of DJs bantering between songs. I…I really don’t like that. The lights flicker again and the mirror behind my mom and the counter rattles against the wall. If this is Mara, she’s gotten stronger. She’s not a cruel whisper anymore. She’s come back with a vengeance.

Another laugh, this one from a song with blaring guitar chords behind it.

Lonely…girl…it sings.

Every hope I had that I’ve found another spirit is gone instantly. There’s no doubt in my mind Mara’s found me again—like she always does. But the past few days have taught me so much about myself and tested me beyond belief, and maybe this is Temperance’s final test. Be afraid, she warned. So now I have to face up to the scariest haunting of all.

I need to choose bravery even when I don’t want to. I cannot let this spirit wreck my budding relationship with Ezra, the Out There shoot, or the store’s Halloween.

My eyes flood with tears and my mom looks to me. “Sweetie, what is it?”

“It’s her,” I choke out. My mom was the one who held me as I cried, who hunted down an experienced medium to sever the connection, who told me to never let someone tell me how to live my life, so when I utter those words, she has no doubts either.

“Rory, remember what we’ve talked about…” she reminds me, giving me space to tackle this turbulence, but staying within reach if I need help.

“We need to get rid of her.” I wave the mugwort in front of the speakers again and they crackle angrily. “Mara, we are not doing this again. You are not allowed near me. I forbid it, okay? You cannot control me again. You have no power over me.”

But she does. She so does. I never truly got rid of her—she just left when she realized she’d done the damage she sought to do.

Do…you…remember…

It’s the start of “September” by Earth, Wind & Fire, and I never thought anything could make me fear such a lighthearted bop, but Mara can.

“I do,” I confirm. “I remember everything about your hauntings. I remember how you made me feel, and how scared I was of you, but I know what I’m doing now. There is no space for you here in my life, or in this store, or around anyone I care about. Are we clear?”

My mom watches in apprehension as the chimes above the door jingle and one of the grandfather clocks in the shop dings, even though it’s not on the hour. The air is thick and full of electricity and each hair on the back of my neck stands up. I ground myself. I take in everything around me. The floor beneath my boots, the counter under my hands, the smell of earthy mugwort in the air. This is my place. My home, and she doesn’t get to come in and ruin it.

Who…could…love—

“No,” I say sharply. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You’re wrong.”

The radio laughs again, this time darker, more sinister. Another flash of lightning illuminates the store, and the lights shut off. This time, there’s a sharp sizzle and it’s not the only sound. It’s the sound of things powering down, like the computer and the fridge in the storage room, like it would when we’re hit by a blizzard and lose power.

“What the hell?” my mom gasps. “She took down the power. Do I unplug it?”

“Mara,” I command the spirit, “you are done here. We’re unplugging you, and you’re going to leave. You’re never going to haunt me again.”

A sharp pain ricochets up my head and something warm drips from my nose. Blood. This never happens. I wipe it away with the base of my sleeve.

“Rory!” my mom cries. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, focusing harder on the radio. “Get. Out. I’m not afraid of you.”

A knock at the door draws my attention away from her, and I catch Ezra in the doorway, trying to get inside. The rain’s coming down on him and the awning above the store isn’t keeping him dry. I’ve never been so glad to see him in my life. Once I set my sights on him, the radio crackles again with another sweet but haunting lullaby before the lights inside flicker off and Mara’s gone.

However, the moment lacks the light and free feeling Eddie and Lettie described. And like the cards in the bar, like the email from The Out There, like every other good thing that’s hit us when we’re on the right path—the problem goes away when Ezra’s around. We are most definitely still cursed. Fuck. But at least maybe he can make it easier.

The store no longer feels charged and angry like it did, once my mom lets Ezra inside. He shakes off his hair and discards his damp jacket on the coat rack. My mom rushes into the back to check the circuit breakers because, sure enough, the lights have not come back on. We’re all stuck in the dim, spooky lighting of Ye Olde Spirit Shop, which suddenly feels scary for the first time in my life.

What makes me feel safe is Ezra, as he rushes toward me and cups my face in his hands. Days ago, he was the thing that made this place unsettling to me, like an unpredictable storm, but now he’s a safe harbor.

“My god, what happened to you?” he asks. The look in his eyes tells me he immediately regrets letting me face this alone, seeing I’m in trouble.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, nodding and trying to blink my tears away. He reaches for a tissue on the counter and presses it to my nose for me, but the bleeding’s mostly stopped. I bury myself in his chest as I calm down from the encounter. My mom’s on the phone in the other room, her tone frantic and concerned. Ezra holds on to me and weaves a hand in my hair, but his own heart’s racing, and something in his composure is anything but relaxed and reassuring.

His eyes are blank and defeated. Something’s not right. We clearly haven’t broken the curse. If this happened to me, what happened to him?

My mom returns from the back room. “Whatever that spirit did, it blew the fuse box. Completely.”

“What?” I ask. “Can you fix it or turn it back on?”

She shakes her head. “I just called the electrician. He can’t get here until the weekend.”

“The weekend…”

This week is packed to the gills. The Out There comes on Friday, and now we can’t even turn the lights on, all because a spirit wanted to antagonize me. All because Mara wanted to remind me how little and insignificant I am. Even if I’ve faced my fears and shown my bravery, she’s left destruction in her wake. Just like she always does…