Wayward Souls by Devon Monk

Author:Devon Monk [Monk, Devon & Monk, Devon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Odd House Press
Published: 2020-12-13T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I caught up with Lu. She was a couple streets over, headed to Dot’s place.

“It didn’t go well,” I said, as I fell into step next to her.

“Day’s not over yet,” she muttered.

I knew she’d heard the argument, or if not that, the door slamming. And there was no mistaking who had slammed that door.

“You romantic, you. You never give up.” I reached over and dragged my fingers gently across the back of her hand. She tipped it open so I could press my palm to hers.

“I’m going to look for the journal,” she said. “Then I’ll talk to Dot about her sister. Unless you have another idea?” She angled her head as if she could hear my voice in the wind, her eyes dropping to Lorde.

Lorde looked up at her, then at me. When I said nothing, Lorde just went back to walking a few steps ahead of Lu, stopping to sniff random weeds growing out of the sidewalk.

“Okay,” Lu said. “Let’s see what we can do.”

She picked up the pace and in short time was rounding the house to the junk pile in the back. She approached it warily, her hands loose at her sides as she walked a slow circle around the edge of the old shed.

I stood to one side of the pile, waiting for her to decide how she was going to do this. It was the middle of the day and sunny. Anyone who happened by would see her digging. But there were no roads back here, just yard and trees that abutted more yard and trees.

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you,” Stella said.

I turned at the sudden appearance of the ghost.

“Warn me about what?”

“That the journal might knock you out.”

“You knew that was going to happen?”

She shook her head as she watched Lu assess the situation. “I thought it might. It’s very strong magic. The man I stole it from said it could only be owned by a person it chose.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

“So it chose you?”

She shrugged. “He was selling it. For all I know he just said that so I would want it more. If so, it worked.”

“Enough you stole it.”

“To have something magic choose you,” she went on, as if I hadn’t spoken, “proving you’re different, and worth something. I guess I wanted that.” She sighed. “I really wanted that.”

This woman, born and raised in this very small town had yearned to be different. I reflected on Sunshine and Jo’s argument and couldn’t get over how it had gone bad very quickly over a small matter. A misunderstanding on difference.

Was being different bad?

I thought Jo, like Stella, liked being different. It was reflected in her piercings, her style. It was reflected in this job she’d chosen, being on the road, meeting new people and places.

I didn’t think Jo thought being different was bad. But when someone assumed different was instantly wrong, well, that was a problem.

As for Sunshine, I thought he might have been blindsided at having strong feelings for a stranger in so short a time.

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