Chapter Thirty Four
“Holy shit,” said Ophelia. “Jo, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” breathed Jolie, unclasping her hand from Mateo’s now-marble shoulder. “Are you?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“God, it stinks in here,” said Jolie.
“Ya think? Open the door, will ya?” asked Ophelia. Jolie walked around stone-cold Mateo and pushed the door open, letting the cool fall air in.
They both breathed in the fresh air. Then their eyes snapped to each other, that inexplicable sisterly pull.
Thousands of thoughts passed between them.
They didn’t need to say it. Perhaps they’d discuss it later or deal with it on their own.
But they had just killed someone, and they both knew now was not the time to think about what that meant for them as morally conscious humans.
Jolie broke the silence.
“Ready to destroy the statues?” asked Jolie.
Ophelia contemplated the question. “I think…I think I can free them, Jo. I don’t know for sure, but I’m worried if we destroy them, their souls will be destroyed too.”
Ophelia walked over to the curvy woman with curly hair.
She centered herself again and placed both hands on the woman’s shoulders and began.
Her mind and heart dove into the statue, searching for a way to pull out the soul.
She could feel it alive within the statue.
It was gravely wounded and small, but there.
She tried to coax the soul out, but it wouldn’t move.
“It’s not working,” she said, frustrated.
“Try again,” encouraged Jolie. Ophelia took a deep breath and placed her hands on the woman again.
Ophelia recentered herself to find her peace and openness.
Instead of pulling the soul out, she wondered if the soul would come to her.
She waited and waited for what felt like hours.
Finally, the soul became curious, and she felt the soul’s presence come to the surface.
The stone around her hands glowed, and she gently pulled them away from the statue, bringing the energy with her.
The soul formed a ball in her hand, shining and shimmering an iridescent blue.
On instinct, Ophelia lifted her hands and the energy floated into the air and dissolved into a million pieces.
The sisters stood in stunned silence.
“One down, ten more to go,” said Jolie.
We’ll be here all night at this rate. How long was I working on her?”
“Fifteen-ish minutes.”
“Shit. This is going to take a while, and I’m already wiped,” admitted Ophelia.
“We can come back tomorrow,” Jolie offered.
“Absolutely not. I never want to come here again. We do this tonight.” Ophelia pulled her phone out and called Etienne.
“Who are you calling?” Jolie asked, but Ophelia ignored her.
“Hello,” Etienne answered.
“Hey, um…I need help. Traiteur help. I’m in a bit of a situation.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
“Yes, I am now, but I was wondering if you could meet me and my sister out in Arabi. We need another Traiteur. I can explain it all when you get here.”
“Sure. Text me the address.”
“Great. Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“No problem.”
Click.
It took Etienne a little over thirty minutes to arrive at the warehouse, and during that time, Ophelia was only able to release one more soul.
Ophelia was lying flat on the floor, exhausted, and Jolie was attempting to move the statue of Mateo out of the way.
The sisters were still unsure of what to do with him.
Etienne barreled into the warehouse like he was on a mission, the door slamming shut behind him. Ophelia and Jolie froze where they were, staring at Etienne like deer in headlights.
“What in the world is going on here?” said Etienne, his deep voice echoing through the room.
Ophelia regarded the scene, and it did look absurd. Jolie looked like she was slow dancing with Mateo in order to move his heavy stone body. Ophelia was surrounded by naked statues, including one of herself.
Laughter bubbled up inside her. She was delirious.
Jolie and Etienne stared at her like she was unhinged.
She did feel like she was losing it. No, she felt embarrassed and hurt and violated and angry and exhausted.
And her response to all of those feelings was this fit of out-of-place laughter that included a couple of snorts as well.
“I’m sorry,” she gulped. “I am out of it.”
Jolie looked at Etienne. “It’s been a long weekend.”
Etienne harrumphed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, are one of you going to explain what’s going on here?”
Ophelia peeled herself off the floor. “Let’s sit.
” There were a couple of chairs next to a workbench that she gestured to.
Etienne sat down, his line of vision directly in front of statue-Ophelia’s stone face turned in disgust. Etienne’s eyes widened as he sat up straight and looked down at his lap.
“Ophelia,” said Etienne, a blush creeping up his neck, “is that a sculpture of you?”
Something about that question caused Ophelia to crack, and tears began to fall swiftly down her face. Etienne placed an awkward hand on her back in comfort. Jolie was afraid of tears, typically manifesting her pain as anger, so she stayed put with her difficult task of moving Mateo.
Ophelia collected herself and started from the beginning.
Etienne’s hands began to form into fists as her story progressed.
Worried that his fists of rage would be unleashed on stone-Mateo’s smug jaw, Ophelia placed a hand over his.
The anger radiating from him wasn’t scary but reassuring.
He took a deep breath at her touch and nodded, signaling for her to continue.
After she was done, Etienne agreed to help Ophelia release the statues’ souls. He was much faster at it than Ophelia, completing three in the span that she completed one. She clearly had a lot to learn. When they were finished, they were both exhausted beyond belief.
“I need to eat,” Etienne announced. “But what are we gonna do about the soul goblin over here? And what about the other statues?”
“I suppose we could just leave them,” said Ophelia.
“Hell no,” Jolie protested. “What if another crazy, evil, magical person finds them and resurrects Mateo? And then he seeks vengeance on us? Have you not seen enough horror movies?”
“Fair. Then what do you propose we do?” Ophelia asked.
Jolie smiled maniacally. “You two can head out whenever, but I’m going to stay here and go HAM on these statues. He’s got all sorts of equipment in that closet. I plan to have fun with a sledgehammer.”
Jolie rummaged through the closet as Ophelia and Etienne gawked at her. She walked out with a giant sledgehammer in one hand and a hand saw in the other.
“Anybody wanna crack at him first?”
“No, but…” Ophelia walked over to her statue. She placed her hands on it, testing its weight against her strength. Then, with the force of her whole body, she pushed the statue over, and her head tumbled off. Not good enough, thought Ophelia. “Give me that thing.”
Jolie passed the sledgehammer over to her.
“And the goggles,” demanded Ophelia. Jolie passed her the goggles she had found in the closet, and she fixed them to her head.
The sledgehammer was heavier than she expected.
Her arms struggled to raise it above her head, but when the sledgehammer reached its pinnacle, she swung down hard, cracking the statue into pieces.
A final burst of adrenaline coursed through her.
She swung three more times until she was satisfied with the mess she made.
That disgustingly beautiful statue would never haunt her again.
“Nice,” whispered Jolie in appreciation of her efforts.
Ophelia wiped her brow and passed the sledgehammer back to Jo. “How long do you think you’ll be?” asked Ophelia.
Jolie twisted her lips in consideration. “Probably a couple hours.” Ophelia audibly groaned. “Well, if you don’t want to wait, get Etienne to take you home, and I’ll drive your car.”
“I can’t leave you here, Jolie.”
“Babe, I can literally turn people to stone now. I think I’ll be fine.”
Ophelia considered this. “Okay. Etienne, would you mind dropping me off?”
“Nah, come on. We’re getting food first, though.”
Ophelia hugged Jolie goodbye. “Thank you, sister. Please lock the door behind us and have your phone with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” mocked Jolie.
Ophelia sat in the passenger seat of Etienne’s pick-up truck. The windows were rolled down, and Ophelia was thankful for the fresh air. She could feel Etienne’s stare, but she was too tired to care.
“So, um,” Etienne began, “important question.”
“Yeah?” said Ophelia, turning towards him.
“Popeyes or Cane’s?”
“Don’t do this to me, E.” How could he ask her to choose between her two favorite fried chicken-producing establishments at a time like this?
“I need to know, O. It’s dire.”
“It’s complicated, okay?”
“How is it complicated?”
“It’s a timing thing, ya know? Cane’s is for hangovers. Popeyes is for Mardi Gras and two a.m. drunk eats. And since we are in neither of those situations right now, this is a tough question.”
Etienne tsked. “Gonna have to give me an answer right now.”
Ophelia looked at him for a beat and blurted out, “Cane’s!”
“Atta girl.”
The ride to the Raising Cane’s by her house was spent in silence as Ophelia lost herself in her own thoughts. After they ordered and grabbed their food from the drive-thru, Etienne pulled the car over in the Cane’s parking lot.
“Sorry, I’m so hungry. I need to eat right now.”
“Honestly, same,” she admitted, while opening her box of fried chicken and crinkle-cut fries. The most glorious smell enveloped the car. Ophelia practically moaned as the first bite of sauce-covered fried chicken touched her mouth.
She caught a glimpse of Etienne’s eyes widening into saucers before he emitted a chuckle. “Hitting the spot?”
“You have no idea,” she responded with a mouthful of fries, completely ignoring the insinuation that she was sure Etienne did not intend.
After they devoured their food, Ophelia asked, “What do you think happened to the souls? Do you think they went off to find their human forms?”
Etienne took a slurp of his root beer. “I hope so. I hope their human forms are still around to be found.”
“What do you mean?”
“From what I’ve seen, when a body is soulless, they become aimless. Human shells just walking around, going through their daily motions. Sometimes they stop caring for themselves and fall ill faster or end life themselves. It’s a hard existence when your soul has been taken from you.”
Ophelia felt sick.
Etienne dropped her off at her house and walked her to her door, making sure she got in safely. “Thank you for your help. I don’t think I would have been able to finish that without you.”
“You would have. Your magic is extraordinarily strong, Ophelia.”
Ophelia was perplexed. How could her magic be extraordinarily strong? It seemed like she was actually behind and needed to grow it more. Before she could ask for more clarification, Etienne said, “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Yeah. You too. Night.” She closed and locked the door, walked straight to her bed, and fell asleep in her clothes.