“Don’t wipe it on your clothes,” I told her. “Dip your fingers in here, quickly. That will help.” I gave her the glass and she wet her hand, cleaning it off.
“And I didn’t believe Jazzy when she said she saw a ghost. What is it, Raymundo? What’s in my daughter’s home?”
“I don’t know yet.” But that wasn’t true. I knew damn well it was one of the predators that had attacked me at Caramella’s house, but why was it lying inert behind Violet’s couch?
I knelt and poured the water behind the couch. It struck something, then flowed over it onto the carpet. Water could wash off the burning effect but not the invisibility.
“What is it?” Maria asked.
I didn’t know how to answer. It was an irregular shape, and rounded. Was it lying in wait? “You have to get Jasmin out of here. Right away.”
“But what is it?” Maria asked again. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Because I’m not sure, but you’re not safe here. Please.”
“You brought this, didn’t you?” She looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Is this some fancy plastic you put here?”
Jasmin hopped off the couch and ran into the back of the apartment. I turned to Maria, incredulous. “How could I have put something behind the couch? And why?”
“You should know already we don’t have nothing to take,” she said. “I know that’s what all of you boys do. You and Arne and the rest—I know you got Tommy into it, too, before he vanished.”
There was nothing I could say to that. I was good enough to search for her son but couldn’t otherwise be trusted. Maybe she would have liked me more if I’d lied about having a job.
Jasmin ran back into the room with a roll of toilet paper, the loose end trailing behind her like a streamer. She leaped back up onto the couch and offered the roll to me.
The end of the paper fell onto the invisible whatever-it-was and stuck there. Damn. Smart kid. I took the roll and laid the paper over the invisible shape, doubling it back when it reached the end closest to me.
The paper stuck into place, showing the contours of the object. All at once, I realized what I was looking at. It was a human face, its eyes closed, its mouth open in a soundless scream.
Maria gasped. “Oh, my Melly!”
I jumped back, nearly knocking Maria over. Christ, she was right. It was Caramella. I stared at her, stunned. What had happened to her?
“You brought this here,” Maria said. The way she said it made me think she was trying to convince herself rather than accuse me. “This is because of you!”
I felt a sudden flash of anger. “You don’t know what you’re saying!” Her eyes went wide, and she stepped away from me. I took a deep breath, pulling back my anger. Of course Maria wasn’t accusing me of feeding Melly to a predator. Of course not.
I swallowed my anger and panic, trying to get a rational thought out of my brain. “Do you really think I brought invisible acid plastic here? Sculpted to look like Melly?”
“I—”
“Take your granddaughter out of here. Something dangerous is going on.”
“That’s really … her, isn’t it?” Maria looked back over at Caramella. Jasmin was still kneeling on the back of the couch, but she was now laying toilet paper along the invisible form on the floor, outlining Caramella’s breasts, belly, and arms. I didn’t even realize I’d dropped the roll.
“Hey!” Jasmin said. “Her lips are moving.”
My guts turned into a tight knot. I knelt close to Melly’s face. It was true; her lips were quivering as though she was in tremendous pain.
She was still alive.
“Why is she doing that?” Jasmin asked.
I lunged at her, caught her by the arms, and lifted her off the couch. I felt like I was violating a taboo—
As I pivoted to hand the little girl to her, she was already moving to take her. I pressed Jasmin into her arms, then forcibly steered her toward the door. She let me. “I can’t tell you what’s going on because I’m not sure myself. I only know that, whatever it is, it’s not safe for little girls.”
Jasmin pleaded as they left. “I want to see Melly some more! I want to see!” I closed the door but didn’t lock it in case I needed to get away quickly.
I went into the kitchen and grabbed a sheet of cheesecloth from the bottom drawer by the oven, silently thanking Violet for keeping everything the way I remembered it. Back in the living room, I tore the toilet paper away; Caramella didn’t deserve to have that stuff over her face. I laid the cheesecloth in its place. Then I laid a second sheet over her neck and chest, then a third over her stomach. I could see it move very slightly as she breathed.
My throat felt tight and my breathing was shallow. Melly was obviously in agony, and I was sure I knew why. This predator had draped itself over her and started to feed. Whatever had been protecting her when she’d visited me in Seattle—whatever was protecting Summer right now—must have worn off or been taken away. Now she was feeling the full extent of the creature’s acid touch. It covered her entire body, was up her nose and down her throat, and it was slowly dissolving her while she was still alive.
As if I needed another reason to hate Wally King.
