Frankie lay awake and watched the shadows of the trees on the ceiling flicker in the gentle breeze outside. He fought the urge to drift off to sleep, which wasn’t as difficult as he thought it’d be. His mind was swirling with worries and debates and schemes.
There were so many people in 1924 who were risking their lives to save his. To help him return to his family. People who didn’t owe him anything. Not according to him, anyway. Even the ones who were a part of his family didn’t have any responsibility to put his life over their own.
And yet they were.
If he allowed them to do that, then what did that say about him? And what would that mean for his future?
Frankie waited until he heard Levi’s deep breathing and knew that his friend was asleep. Then he slipped out of bed and carefully stepped across the wood floors.
The bright side about being the 20s was that the house didn’t creak nearly as much as it did in the 80s. He didn’t have to worry about alerting Levi to his departure as he snuck out of the room.
Downstairs, he pulled on one of William’s jackets and stepped into the chilly air. There was something about having his grandfather’s coat around him that made him feel safer, even though he was traveling in the dark alone and directly toward the very hands that he and Levi came to William and Anna’s to avoid.
Frankie managed to take the last trolley ride back into town and back toward the intersection of W 27th and Raspberry streets. Back to where they had first encountered Hecate.
On the edge of town, the dark was nearly absolute. Just as it had been outside of William and Anna’s house. But after venturing back into the heart of the city and then back out again, the starkness of the evening was blinding to Frankie.
He stood in the center of the intersection, hoping that Hecate would appear. He needed to make the deal before anyone could talk him out of it. Before anyone could sacrifice themselves for him.
His life was basically already over anyway.
Frankie spun in circles at least three times, trying to catch a glimpse of Hecate when she appeared, but nothing. There was no sign of life in the darkness. Only the faint indications that people had once been in this spot: the streets, the houses, the ruts in the dirt road.
He sunk to his knees and thought about the hole that he had dug on that very spot the previous morning. How it had roused Hecate, who wanted to protect her hex box.
With newfound vigor, he pounded at the packed dirt with his fists, trying desperately to break into the ground to unearth the hex box again, but the road wouldn’t give way for his fingers.
The sound of footsteps behind him caught his attention. His heart raced as he whirled around and tried to force his eyes to focus on whatever—or whoever—was behind him.
Distantly, a figure walked up the street. But it wasn’t Hecate. Not by the way they were walking. And as the figure moved closer, Frankie could see that it was a man.
Tommy.
“Hey!” Frankie called out. “Tommy! It’s Frankie!”
Tommy stopped in his tracks and stared in the witch’s direction.
Frankie rose to his feet and took a step toward Tommy, but he stumbled backward, letting out a terrified shriek, meanwhile keeping his eyes locked on whatever was behind Frankie.
Turning, Frankie looked to see what he had been looking at, but saw nothing in the darkness.
His heart beat faster.
“Tommy?” Frankie called out with a hint of doubt in his own voice.
The boy fumbled backward in the dirt, letting out another shriek.
“Tom—” Frankie took a step toward him but stopped in his tracks. Marie stood beside Tommy and held out her hand toward her husband. “Marie,” he muttered.
She smiled and waved him to her. “Come on, sweetheart. Come back to me.”
Frankie felt the temptation mount, but then slammed his eyes shut and shook his head.
No. She’s a phantom. She’s not real.
He tried to convince himself, but in the late hour the pressure to return to his wife was so massive that he imagined walking up to her and taking her hand and disappearing into eternity with her.
But this figure was an illusion. Not reality. He needed to remember that.
By the looks of things, Tommy needed the same reminder.
Frankie squinted his eyes and studied Tommy’s reactions. The terror. The haggard look on his face. Seeing things that weren’t there.
Tommy was being targeted by his own phantom.
Frankie broke out into a run and quickly closed the distance between them.
“Hey.” Frankie’s parental instincts kicked in. He dropped to his knees and wrapped Tommy in a hug from behind. The close contact—the physical touch—would hopefully help to break Tommy out of whatever mental torment he was going through. “It’s okay. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. It’s meant to make you go crazy. Tommy—wake up from this daydream. It’s me. It’s Frankie, from the restaurant.”
Despite Frankie’s best efforts, Tommy continued to shake. Even as Frankie shushed him.
“Shh. Hey, look at me.” He held Tommy’s chin and forced the younger man to look in his direction. Even when he did, his eyes were glassy, unfocused. “Tommy, it’s not real. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not really there.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
Frankie looked up to the center of the crossroads where a shadow now stood. Even without seeing her, Frankie knew who it was.
Hecate.