again.
Put it away.
It’s over. It’s done. It was a long time ago.
Distracted by the memories and emotions attached to Jake and that upsetting time of her life made it easier for Vivien to walk through the entrance into the lobby.
To her relief, nothing seemed out of place. There were no strange lights or sounds, and the air was still and quiet.
“I’m back,” she called to the ghosts lingering from shows past. “And I’m not leaving,” she added for whoever thought they could chase her away from her dream.
As if in answer, a soft shift in the air—very, very cold—buffeted her skin, and she thought she heard the faintest whisper of a sigh—relieved, relaxed—from deep inside the building.
“That’s right,” she said, the sound of her voice giving her comfort as she walked in and looked around. “I’m here, and here I’ll stay.”
She had a real flashlight this time, but didn’t turn it on yet and instead relied on the same dismal collection of light bulbs as before. The teen volunteers would be here in less than an hour, and she wanted to have a defined list of tasks for them before the hordes (she hoped there was a horde) descended.
But before that, she needed a moment of her own to do what she’d meant to do when she came in on Tuesday.
Once more, she walked down the center aisle from the lobby through the house to the stage. And once again, she felt the presence of those who’d come before—who’d entertained and danced and sang and soliloquized—and whose spirits remained.
They were ghosts of solidarity, phantoms of familiarity, spirits of tradition and memory…nonthreatening and benign, yet insistent that they be acknowledged.
And acknowledge them she would.
This time, nothing interrupted her as she approached the front. The orchestra pit located down and in front of the stage was small but functional and required her to veer to the left in order to ascend the five steps that brought her onto the stage.
For some reason, her palms felt damp and her heart was beating hard as she walked onstage and stood, facing the house…just as she and her twin had done twenty-some years ago.
She looked out over the empty seats, the rows where faces would be, the place that she would fill with people—she would—and remembered: the heat of the lights, the energy pushing at her, the music surrounding her, the excitement, the exhaustion, the triumph.
Memories flitted through her mind: pieces of dialogue, measures of song, steps of a routine…and then, when they began to overwhelm her, when her eyes filled with tears and her heart squeezed and hurt, she sank to sit cross-legged on the dusty wooden floor.
Liv.
“I wish you were here with me, Liv,” she said—but in a low voice. Just for her twin to hear. The other spirits didn’t need to eavesdrop. “I mean, I know you’re with me, but I wish you were corporeal, you know?” A skitter of sensation brushed over Vivien’s left arm—Olivia always stood on her left side—lifting the hair gently.
Tears stung her eyes, and she dashed them away with the palm of her hand. “It would be so much better if we were doing this together. You know?”
Silence. But she didn’t need to hear or feel an acknowledgment. She knew Liv was there, and that she heard her.
This is for you, Liv.
A rush of warmth and the glitter of energy surrounded her, gently buffeting her, filling her, comforting her. Her sister was near.
Then something caught her attention. A movement, from the corner of her eye.
She turned, heart lurching into her throat, and saw a shadow—what she thought was a shadow—move.
Tall, long, it spilled across stage left…dark and obvious even in the poor light. It wasn’t the shape of a person—no, it was angular and smooth…except for the top, where its rectangular shape distorted into something that wasn’t human.
The hair on the back of her neck shot to attention, prickling and tense, and Vivien felt goosebumps erupt all over her arms and legs. Her breath came out in short, hard pants, and it was visible, little foggy clouds of white.
The shadow slid silently across the stage—dark, slick, and amorphous—rippling over the slats in the stage, dipping off the edge until it came so close that it nearly brushed over her feet and arm…
And then it was gone.
It happened so quickly, smoothly, silently…the shadow was there and then it was gone.
And everything was still.
And Vivien was alone once more.
Chapter Six
The Scouts and high school volunteers brought much-needed life and