Page 8 of Lake Hollow Curses

She finishes straightening the tea set on the shelf near her, looking at me thoughtfully with eyes framed in eyeliner not quite on the lash line. “I suppose that’s one explanation, or it was inside something else that was sold to me.” She shrugs as she pats my sunburnt knee. “Kind of reminds me of the whole loon pin fiasco.”

This is new. “What was that?”

She goes on to tell us that she had purchased a box of costume jewelry from an estate sale a few towns away ten years ago. One of the pins discovered in the lot Carlotta found out was worth thousands of dollars, but Ceily insisted she only pay what it was marked as, which was twenty-five dollars. For reasons that Ceily doesn’t know, a few weeks later Bonnie Gibson stopped in asking about the pin. Then one day in church she noticed that Bonnie was wearing it. She asked Carlotta if she’d given it to her, and it made Carlotta flustered not answering the question. She proceeded to ask Ceily a dozen questions about Bonnie’s visit to her shop.

“Anyway, saw it on Bonnie at Lala’s funeral. It made her angry when I pointed it out. It kind of upset me if I’m being honest that she bit my head off about it.”

“Meemaw, is that why you didn’t feel well?” Keenan asks her, trying to pay attention while gawking at Grady.

She nods. “One of the reasons.”

Chapter Six

Wilder Lee

Asleepless night and the growing heat of the morning almost make me want to take a dip in the lake. Not that I’m going to. My visions certainly curtailed that desire long ago. Any movement is taking great effort right now.

Rolling over, I can’t help groaning. Every muscle is still sore from the episode I had after my shower last night. It hit aggressively, causing me to fall and bang my shoulder against the towel rack.

Laying near the pebble stone path of Lakeside Park, my stomach rolling, I can’t help heaving.

In the distance I can hear someone calling ‘Mia? Mia? Miaaa?”

Straining to sit up, to answer the voice… to see who is calling. I feel gripped. My limbs weighed down. My voice strangled in my throat.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to focus on breathing, but it gets thready. The sensation of sinking, water filling my nostrils. I’m choking.

My throat feels strangled.

A female voice is softly chanting, “Stop him, stop him…”

Pushed… I’m being pushed down. A male voice... “Remember… cleanse… remember… cleanse…”

I’m still choking as I start to come to.

Now, this morning, I’m bruised, tired, sore, and no closer to understanding what any of it means.

Just the universe testing me.

I’ve kept this to myself, until I can explain any of it to Remington, but I’ve started to jot things down. Connections. All the drownings are connected, I feel it. Three summers, seven deaths… they are all related.

Pulling myself up to grab the notebook I’ve written in, I look it over:

Mark Tullery, 16, Lived next door to Grady, walked with me to school-possible crush on my mom, coached Cal’s Little League team, no known link to the Gibsons.

Mia Kelley, 18, Grady took a music class with her, family friend of the Gibsons, no real link to me.

Tera Hersch, 14, Stayed at The Bends, followed around Cal and Charlie, ran a 5k race with Grady, friendly with Katie.

Jeremy Eiler, 18, worked at Gibson Funpark, friends with Grant Marlow, didn’t know him

Susanna Ross, 15, stayed at The Bends, crush on Cal and maybe Grady? Never knew her.

Sara Truitt, 16, my girlfriend, Cal’s sister, Grady’s best friend, Charlie -no real issues.

Katie Gibson, 12, Charlie’s sister, friends with Grady and I, Cal -no real issues.

Then it ended.

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