Chapter Five Evelyn
CHAPTER FIVE
EVELYN
About a month after the ghostly attacks that left parts of New York devastated, police apprehended a man yesterday evening in the Dupont Circle area described as having glowing red eyes…”
Evelyn switched off her earbuds. She didn’t have the bandwidth.
There had been rumors circulating earlier at Mtume that people were posting images on their phones of a man with a bizarre, otherworldly appearance, but she hadn’t wanted to believe, just chalked it up to someone using AI to produce stupid effects.
She pressed her hands into her pockets as she approached Nueva Investigations for the second time that night.
The clack of her heels on concrete echoed into evening.
The sweet aroma from a cluster of lilac trees nestled in a garden across the street wasn’t doing much to settle her nerves.
Evelyn took out her phone, looked at the screen: 6:59 p.m. She’d arrived fifteen minutes early and walked around the block two times before returning to the building.
Something about Linda’s demeanor told her she shouldn’t deviate from the agreed-upon schedule, that she should arrive at seven on the dot as instructed.
Evelyn scanned the front of the town house, noticed how plain and ordinary it was.
The building’s sienna facade, faded. The white paint that covered the door and its frame was chipped.
The mailbox, spotted, streaked with rust. Nueva Investigations needed a refresh.
Which was interesting. Why did she remember the townhome as an enticing, shiny thing?
She had done her research. Even though she only managed to find a couple of photos of Linda herself, the agency consistently earned high ratings on online platforms. Linda had even earned a couple of industry awards.
From what Evelyn could discern, the business was a success, so why wasn’t she opting to take better care of her place?
Were things tight, her overhead too high, considering how expensive the city had become?
She took a deep, deep breath and for the millionth time suppressed the urge to turn around and go home and listen to news about whatever fucked-up madness was happening to DC. She rang the buzzer, which she hadn’t noticed before. In seconds, Linda appeared at the door.
“Your lip,” Evelyn said instead of hello. The bottom right corner of Linda’s mouth was swollen. “Are you okay?”
Linda waved off the comment. “You should see the other guy. Come in.” She led Evelyn to a plain, dark wooden chair that flanked the cushy mustard couch she’d sat on during her first visit.
The chair was surprisingly comfortable even though it had seen better days.
Its varnish was peeling. The armrests wobbly, chipped.
Linda sat in another wooden chair directly across from Evelyn and placed her hands on her knees.
Candles were lined up on a nearby table.
Evelyn remained still but scanned the space with her eyes.
Shadows danced on the ceiling, on the inner and outer arms of the couch.
She smelled incense, the same scent she remembered from when she first entered the town house.
She glanced over at the portraits on the wall, the images swallowed by darkness.
Why am I here? Evelyn wondered, after she was so ready to swear off anything remotely spooky.
When she’d first set foot in the agency three days ago, she and Linda had barely spoken.
After her weird visions, which she’d immediately chalked up to overexcitement, Evelyn had settled on the couch at her host’s insistence while Linda asked basic questions about her day.
Evelyn thought the small talk might be a cover, that Linda was studying her, that she wanted to communicate something else.
And then, after a quick smattering of innocuous questions…
silence. A few more awkward moments passed with no words.
Evelyn, not one to overstay her welcome, said in her girlish voice, “Guess I should go.”
“Of course,” Linda said as she rose and walked Evelyn to the door.
“Of course. You’re welcome to come back this Thursday evening at seven if you’re available.
” She slipped Evelyn a cream business card.
“Reach out if you prefer to connect another time. If you want to go your own way, I understand. But know this, Ms. Kendricks, if you return… if you choose to return… I can show you who you really are.”
In a daze, Evelyn had managed to get herself home, astonished at how strange her day had turned out, the walk from the agency to her place taking less than ten minutes.
It was only when she placed her key in the front door lock, as she thought about the investigator’s parting words, that she realized she’d never told Linda her last name.
I can show you who you really are.
Those words had haunted Evelyn day in and out.
Linda’s alto was lodged in her head, floating through her dreams at night, causing her to zone out when she crossed the street, distracting her at meetings.
Evelyn thought she knew who she was, yet the job that had given her so much stability, that was her haven for years, had abruptly become a scary, anxiety-inducing place. Who was she, if she didn’t have Mtume?
Evelyn had felt compelled to return to the town house.
“Ms. Kendricks, are you ready to begin?”
“Uh, begin what, exactly?” Evelyn gripped her sterling silver daisy ring.
The ridges of the small metal petals dug into her skin and created a sharp prickle.
A routine she’d developed at Mtume, which helped to ease her nerves before big presentations.
“I remember you said… you’re going to explain some things about myself. I wasn’t sure what you meant.”
“Ms. Kendricks, you were compelled to come here because you’re hurting.
Because you were in a place where you needed help, care, compassion.
Someone to be there for you. Plain as day from where I sat in my agency.
And I could also sense plain as day you haven’t been honoring who you are.
That you’ve been giving away your integrity, your power.
” Linda paused. “You’ve been giving away your love.
” This she said softly, gently. “It’s always about love. ”
“And how would you know that?” Evelyn fidgeted in her seat, uncomfortable as the words pierced her heart.
What had just come out of Linda’s mouth, too damn true, too close to home.
Something she wasn’t ready to discuss with a stranger who made a living from minding other folks’ business. “And how do you know my last name?”
Linda held out her palms, shared a conciliatory look.
“I know what I know. My gift, what I can offer… is to reveal parts of your soul that have been forgotten. Abandoned. Show you elements of yourself that hold lessons. You’re going to feel different for a few days, as you integrate what you’ll experience tonight into your day-to-day.
I encourage you not to run away from those feelings, from what’s been brought forth.
After a while, what you’ve experienced here, what you’ve felt, it all might feel like a dream.
You might forget… you probably will forget, but what’s brought forth will remain if you choose to hold on. ”
“Okay,” Evelyn said, her voice small. Linda’s words were terse, crisp, just like their first meeting.
The modulated tone Evelyn had come to associate with big-idea professionals who never suffered fools.
She thought it best to remain calm and still, though she felt the urge to get up and move.
Why was she trusting this person? “Not sure I understand… but okay.”
“You can stay here long as you like, if you don’t feel like being by yourself after your journey,” Linda continued. “I’ll be with you for as long as you like.”
Linda sat in her seat, straight, rigid. An unmoving statue in gray blazer and navy jeans. Evelyn straightened up and tried to mirror her host.
“Are you ready?”
Evelyn took a deep breath.
She nodded.
And then it hit her, the sensation from when she’d first visited the town house.
The world around her became bright, distorted, almost more than she could bear.
As if hundreds of light bulbs had been switched on at the same time.
Linda became a blurry figure, still seated and unmoving.
Evelyn closed her eyes to block the brilliance.
Her world was suddenly, soothingly consumed by black.
A heaviness pressed against her eyelids.
Something sparkled in the distance, luminescence with curves and form.
A woman’s silhouette, a magnificent turquoise blue.
Her features were hard to discern but Evelyn could see her lips and nose were full, as were her hips.
Her hair untamed, flowing free. The figure sashayed.
Her arms stretched forth as small glimmers of light streamed from her eyes and mouth and fingertips.
She grew closer.
Evelyn opened her eyes and yet the darkness remained, broken only by light from the silhouette. Something was stuck in Evelyn’s throat. Her breathing became labored, difficult.
The silhouette grew near, soon an arm’s length away.
Evelyn realized…
It was her. The dancing blue was her.
The silhouette grew still.
Then it rushed forward, unbidden.
Evelyn was consumed.
She remembered…
… the first time she took to the sky, flying all the way out to Honolulu on a senior trip with Deirdre.
She looked from the plane, the Pacific Ocean transformed into the brightest, most vivid turquoise green she’d ever seen.
A hue she didn’t think was possible. She imagined slipping from the plane and gently gliding through the air until she touched water.
She remembered…
… the first time she was able to save enough money from her part-time work at Founders Library to get a seashell Nordstrom dress.
Deirdre said the dress wasn’t flattering unless Evelyn bought shapewear.
Evelyn didn’t care, loved the design and how the fabric settled on her breasts and round belly.
To look at herself and prance around in the mirror, to see herself in something she loved.
She remembered…
… the last time she saw her grandfather, his body a waxy husk lying in a coffin in the front of the pastoral room at Morrison-Butler’s funeral home.
A crying woman held her hand. Evelyn didn’t know who the person was…
an aunt?… cousin? Evelyn tuned out the woman, looked at Granddad’s waxy, drawn face, and felt more alive than ever as she thought, Thank God he’s gone.
She remembered…
… the last time she was with Grandmama, her seven-year-old self sitting with the old woman for hours as lung cancer ravaged her body.
Evelyn didn’t mind the lingering scent of piss and shit as long as the old woman stroked her hair and warbled verse and chorus to “Let’s Stay Together” in her hoarse voice.
As long as she could hear the woman murmur, “Baby, you gon’ be somebody… ” one last time. Because she was right.
You gon’ be somebody…
The night ended with a vexing irony. After being so inundated with crisp memories she’d long forgotten, Evelyn’s remaining time with Linda became a blur.
Still, she recalled crying uncontrollably, and Linda coming up to her and kneeling by her side as she placed her hand on her knee and offered her a tissue.
And she recalled Linda getting more tissues to wrap around Evelyn’s finger since she’d held her daisy ring so tight that she’d pricked herself, and Linda uttering more incomprehensible words, something about Evelyn’s soul, which made her realize she was extremely tired, that she’d probably made a mistake in returning to the town house, that she yearned for her bed even though Linda repeated, “You can stay, you can rest here.” Evelyn summoned a rideshare and left the agency right after Linda implored her to take the folder she crammed into her hand.
Evelyn ignored the driver’s gentle questions seeing if she was all right, made it home, and collapsed onto her bed.
Her tears flowed with a life of their own.
She repeatedly wiped at her face and dozed off. The shadows of sleep came, a much-needed refuge, darkness limned with wisps of turquoise blue.