Chapter Twenty-Eight #4
“From like… fifty years ago? That doesn’t make any sense, Imani.”
Since arguing made her feel alone—and feeling alone was a tangible pain in her throat—Imani chose not to argue.
If Sharise wasn’t ready to see it, only one of them needed to.
But to her, this was the first time she was seeing the shape of something she could understand.
Her great-grandmother Mazelle fed the Beast when it was young and small.
She’d lived here in the woods in secrecy with it, hiding it from the world.
(Hadn’t Daddy said he might have seen it in her window?) After she died, it hid itself in the wild…
and it grew. If turtles and whales could live for a hundred years, maybe this Beast could too.
How could there be only one? That part wasn’t natural. Or the way it moved. Or anything about it. But even if the Beast wasn’t natural, she could use nature to try to figure it out.
When Sharise took Imani’s place watching the fire, and the snow, Imani stuffed her backpack as far as she could into the gopher hole to block it.
If her theory was wrong, a smaller version of the Beast might try to wriggle through it.
Hell, maybe it was a shape-shifter! What else could explain its odd assortment of features, like bat wings, a long torso, a crocodile snout, and small whiskers like worms?
The Beast looked like it was assembled from the ugliest animal scraps.
Like an accident. Or a twisted joke. It couldn’t be real—but it was.
Sharise coughed. More smoke was floating into the hollow than Imani had expected.
But neither of them complained, since the warmth was worth the haze and occasional coughing.
Imani’s fingers stung as icy numbness started to wear off when she held her hands over the fire.
She fed a few twigs to the tower to see the beautiful flames dance, trying to lick at her palms.
“Save some wood,” Sharise said. “For later.”
“I will.” The remaining wood supply was paltry. Maybe there was no later.
The flames took Imani’s thoughts far away, lost in rippling gold and orange. For a time, the fire almost felt like peace. Then her long-withheld grief rocked her. She held back her tears, but the effort to keep from crying shook her lips and jowls.
“When you heard Mom’s voice,” Sharise asked, “was it after that thing took her?”
Imani could only nod. If she tried to speak, she would cry. And if she cried, she would never be able to stop.
“Tell me what you heard.”
Imani waited until her throat loosened its grip. A hiccupped sob slipped out. “At first… she was screaming. Muffled. But I heard her on the road, even… inside of it.”
“I think I did too. It just happened so fast…”
“And then…” Should she tell Sharise the rest? Maybe she would at least pretend to believe her. “I heard her say, ‘I’m still alive.’ ”
“When she was screaming?”
“No… when she was in the yard. I couldn’t see her anymore. But I heard her voice say, ‘I’m still alive.’ So clear and calm. Like she was standing next to me. Like she was smiling.”
Sharise paused and said gently, “Was the voice… in your head?”
Again, Imani nodded. This was the first time she had admitted it to herself.
Sharise moved closer to Imani, wrapping her arm around her. She had taken off the crinkly emergency blanket, since the hollow was warmer now. “Did I ever tell you that when I was little, I used to think Mom and I could read each other’s minds?” Sharise asked.
Imani didn’t remember, so she didn’t answer. Sharise went on. “Like… I’d be thinking about ice cream and she’d give me a bowl of ice cream. Or, I dunno… she’d say something about Elmo when I was just thinking about Elmo.”
“You were probably always thinking about ice cream and Elmo,” Imani said. Somehow, they both laughed a little, even though it still hurt Imani’s throat.
“Anyway… there’s a bunch of stuff in this world we don’t understand,” Sharise said. “Like that thing out there. Maybe you really did hear Mom’s voice. Like… she was communicating with you so you wouldn’t be scared.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Imani whispered. “I dragged us out here…”
“No,” Sharise said, squeezing Imani’s hand with her solitary glove. “I’m glad we tried. Mom would be proud of us.”
But Imani knew that wasn’t true. Mom would have screamed at them to stay away from the Beast. Mom would have wanted them to be safe, not hiding in a dead tree without any idea of how to get back to Mazelle’s lodge.
“Do you think Dad is okay?” Imani asked.
Sharise sighed and was silent for so long that Imani’s heart sped and that bad taste flushed her mouth again.
“He hit his head pretty hard, Imani,” Sharise said. “But we got him out of the cold—so he’s probably okay. And I believe you heard Mom’s voice, so maybe she’s okay too. But if they’re not… you’ll always have me. Forever.” The last part was what Sharise had been warming up to.
Imani wanted to shove Sharise away. Instead, she sank against her sister and hugged her.
Imani Washington finally released her sobs, crying in her sister’s arms.