27
Daughters
I BLINK SEVERAL TIMES. SLOWLY. Future Atti’s gone. A dim light must be shining somewhere, cuz now I can see things. I’m outta the darkness and away from my beloved stars.
My eyes begin to adjust, and I’m pressed down flat, my head turned to the side, facing a wall of wood paneling. Something’s under me. A mattress, I think. Its cover is scratchy and irritates my skin. I try to cough again, and it gets stuck again, which is when I become aware of my mouth and what’s in it.
Musty-tasting skin, sharp edges cutting into my soft palate. I scream and try to move, but someone is holding me down, crushing me.
“Hurry up, man,” I hear a voice say, miles above me.
My head throbs, but I have to get clear right now. I bite down on the fingers in my mouth as hard as I can and hear a yelp. Two voices are here. Down, down into the shimmer of purple and silver. At the bottom of my gut. It’s pulsing with activity. I feel everything now. Everything. Purple-silver clarity meet red-orange rage.
I open my mouth and release a savage howl and blast Virgil away from me, sending him slamming into the opposite wall of this dingy room. The other one scurries to his side like a scared mouse and tries to drag Virgil to the door, but Virgil doesn’t move. I don’t even have to hold him there. He just stares at me. His pants are undone and halfway between his knees and ankles. I don’t need to look down to know what he’s done, what he was doing, to me. Somebody was lookin’ out for me, though. Maybe it was my granddaughter. Cuz he didn’t finish what he started.
I keep my sharpened focus on him while I pull up my underwear and torn capris. The other one starts for the door, but I knock him right back where he was and hold him there easily.
I learn something new. In the purple-silver band, all things become clear. All enigmas have explanations. Riddles suddenly have obvious solutions. A long time ago, Virgil took my innocence. I can’t take it back from him, because I no longer need it. And I don’t want it. No. His conviction of supremacy over me is what I must take from him. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to understand that.
I need Virgil to feel absolute fear. I want to be his nightmare. I want him to curse the day he met me. I don’t give a shit about destiny. I will get what I want.
“You crazy bitch,” he says to me, baffled. After everything that’s happened, he’s surprised by my reaction. He’s a li’l scared, cuz he’s smart. But not scared enough. What can I do to truly terrify this man?
“I tried to be sweet to you, but you just wouldn’t listen. You brought this on yourself,” he says.
If I were Virgil, I’d never want to be alone, in the quiet of the night, with my thoughts. I’d be scared to face who I really was. I know what to do.
“I’m gonna show you your soul,” I inform him. Like my grandmother taught me, I sever a shard of energy with my razor-sharp clarity band, and I fling it at his redheaded crony. The crony transforms into a freakishly tall and thin man. He cries out at first, but his own terror silences him. His face blanches into a white unnatural to human beings. Paper white. Whatever expression he was wearing moments ago has been wiped clean and replaced by emptiness. His eyes become black mirrors. No scleras, no pupils, no corneas. Nothing. All the hair vanishes from his head. All lines, blemishes, moles—the things that make a person look like a person—they’re all gone.
Virgil stares at the creature that has replaced his friend, speechless and ashen. I’m startled too. At my power and at this sight. I would’ve thought Virgil’s soul would be a hideous monster from a horror story. This is far more chilling.
“That’s your soul,” I begin, “if your soul wore clothes. Take them off.” The crony disrobes. With each piece of clothing he removes, more of the truth can be seen: nothing. A shapeless void of dark nothing remains where the clothes once were. He finally pulls off the white face, revealing it to be a mask. A tall blob of infinite darkness stands before us.
“What kinda voodoo hypnotism is this?” Virgil asks, his voice trembling. I think I can actually hear his teeth chattering.
I just stare at him. I consider showing Virgil more, but that isn’t necessary. This is enough.
“You are so much more trouble than you’re worth,” he sneers, carefully pulling his pants up and fastening them with jittery hands.
Everything remains sharp. My mind could carve intricate etchings in glass.
He’s backed himself flat against the wall, as far away from me as he can get, tryna stand steady and strong, but he’s not foolin’ anybody. “Enough of this sick shit,” he spits, his voice jagged and raw. No dulcet tones tonight. He takes a moment, like he’s puttin’ himself back in control, but he just sounds desperate. “Change Teddy back.”
Instead of changing Teddy back, I slide him closer to Virgil, who screams. Terrified of his own soul.
“Goddamnit! Change him back,” he screeches.
“Tell me where we are,” I demand.
“Teddy’s place.” He’s visibly shaking, and he looks so small. But I will not gloat. I was raised better than that.
“How far are we from my house?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Ten minutes.”
I swallow hard and think. I don’t know if I should try to find home or Clay or call Mama for help.
“Change him back,” Virgil repeats. This time he’s begging. I don’t want to give Virgil anything he wants, but I can’t think of a good reason to keep a walking void around that could accidentally swallow anything it touches, so I change him back, a reverse of how I changed him in
