Page 43 of The Chosen Two

“She thinks we are not doing our part getting the Jinn to do his.”

“The Jinn needs to finish what he was summoned to do. The Jinn is too soft of heart and stubborn of will. He is fighting our commands.”

“They should have summoned him instead of making us do so.”

“That is what Mel insists happens now. They believe they will have more control. They are summoning the Jinn tonight.”

“They want the Jinn at the mountain when they take the husband back there. They want insurance.”

The whispers and the shadow vanish at the same time, so that all I hear now are actual birds and cars driving by. I stand and stretch casually before walking as slowly as I can manage to my car. I have no doubt that was about me. And Jake. And at this point, I have no idea if the Jinn is causing me to hallucinate or not. The line between real and imaginary has been obliterated.

Once I’m back on the road, I try to call George, but he doesn’t answer. So, I text him.

I need to talk.

Three dots pulse for a long time for me to then see,

Monday. At training.

What? What kind of guide is he if I can only reach him during bankers’ hours?

I don’t think this can wait. Something’s going on with Jake.

I grind my teeth while I wait for his reply. Finally, I hear from him.

Is this work related?

Grrrrr. Come on, George! Are you fucking kidding me? I take a deep breath and steady myself. This isn’t about me. Well, not entirely. Right now, this is about Jake.

Yes. What do you know about talking shadows? I heard them talking. Someone or something is targeting Jake, and he’s been...weird. Can you look up the names Mel and Lu?

For the life of me, I can’t remember the other names. The harder to I try to dig out the memory, the more their conversation deteriorates in my mind. I send George the message anyway, angry at myself for letting the information slip away when it has to do with my own family.

Okay. I’ll see what I can dig up. Sit tight. I’ll update you if I find out anything.

Fine. Fine. It’ll wait. It’s not like I have any other option. I still have to go pick up the kids. Maybe it isn’t as urgent as it sounded. I can’t quite recall if the voices mentioned Jake by name or if I’m jumping to conclusions and looking for reasons to excuse his shitty choices lately.

I continue to Eliza’s house even though I don’t feel ready to get the kids. To start, I have no idea what I’ll be bringing them home to. I don’t know who Jake is right now, and I can only imagine the mood he’s in after I sucker punched him and ran off.

Sitting tight and letting George handle the research alone isn’t easy when I just heard a bunch of shadows whisper about him. I think. I mean, after punching my husband so squarely in the jaw, I’m pretty confident I’m ready to defend us all, but, still, I don’t want this shit coming near my family. Damn it!

I park in Eliza’s driveway and pull down my mirror to check my reflection. She’ll know I was crying, but I don’t think the kids will. At least, I hope they won’t…

When I ring the bell, Jessie comes to the door. “Oh man. Already?” She rolls her eyes and returns down the long center hall to the kitchen where they’ve all congregated.

“Nice to see you too, dear.” I roll my eyes back at her, but I do so to the back of her head, so my attitude doesn’t make me a bad mom or anything. “Hey guys, how are you all doing?”

The scene I walk into is the opposite of what I came from. The room is joyful and light. Phoebe’s feeding Tabitha who’s all giggles with her big cousins visiting. “Hey, Mom.” Phoebe barely glances in my direction. And here I was concerned they would notice anything about my appearance.

Natalie and Sammy are in a heated but quiet argument about some video game, I’m sure. Because it doesn’t involve any screaming, their argument can be about anything important.

I smile. At least my kids were spared the scene from this morning. I’m not sure how that all would have gone down if any of them had been in the house when I found out everything. I decide to stay awhile, so I put my purse on the hallway table and my shoes by the front door the way Eliza prefers.

“Where is Aunt Eliza?” I ask when I return. I realized she was absent from the virtually perfect tableau before me. Just then the basement door flies open, pushed by a basket piled high with clean but unfolded laundry being carried by my bestie. “There you are. Let me help you with that.”

“Touch the laundry and lose a finger.”

“Ummm. Okay… You okay, Lize?”

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