Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Mackenzie didn’t move. Or blink. Or breathe. She refused to respond to Charlie. From behind closed eyes, Mackenzie was replaying everything that happened the night before, the memories now as clear as if she were watching TV. She saw Grady and Sophie walk in, Grady’s hand resting on her shoulder as though he possessed her. Then it slipped down to her waist and below.

Mac squeezed her eyes tighter, but the vision of the two of them walking past wouldn’t fade. She realized she was still holding the earplugs and put them in. Through them she could hear muffled talking and laughter, and the excited murmuring of the kids settling down for the long ride. She concentrated on the muted sounds, willing the painful vision to fade.

She took out her old flying bicycle, and pedaled higher and higher into the sky, until she floated away, safe. Finally, Mackenzie took a deep breath and fell asleep.

But she was back at the party, standing on the stairs, looking at Dante’s front door. Everyone was there, and she and Frankie were laughing. She wanted to leave, but there were too many people and she couldn’t move. Someone handed her a red plastic cup overflowing with bubble bath. She looked in the cup, and then at the person who gave it to her. It was Barb. 

“I wish I could help you, Mackenzie, but it’s not like I’m your real mom,” she said, and melted into the crowd.

Mac looked at the door, and in walked her father. He had a little girl in his arms, and at first, Mackenzie thought it was Lily, her hands still covering her mouth. But she was wearing a dress with ruffled sleeves and big pink and red polka dots, and Mac realized she was looking at herself.

An old song started to play and people began dancing. She watched her hands fly from her mouth to cover her ears as she shook her head. Mackenzie couldn’t understand why she was so upset. She strained to hear the song, but it was muted, as though honey filled her ears. Just as Mac realized what it was, the music started stuttering and someone threw a mirror against the wall, shattering it. A large shard flew by in slow motion and Mackenzie thought she got a glimpse of her reflection but it was Lily staring back at her.

Her dad walked past the stairs, still carrying her young self, and Mac could see his hand slip from her shoulder, but she couldn’t tell where it had gone. Something moved under the dress. One of the red polka dots pulsed and grew, and began dripping onto the floor, staining the carpet a bright scarlet. Her little hands remained over her ears, but she began singing, “Fly away, fly away!” over and over.

Mackenzie’s hands flew up to grab herself away from Stan, and she jolted awake with a gasp. She looked around, but it was a moment before realizing she was on the bus, headed toward Providence. She closed her eyes again, but the dream haunted her thoughts. Better to let it disintegrate the way dreams do, Mac thought, and refocused her attention to the trip. She opened her eyes. 

“How long was I out?” she asked Frankie, who was examining a map draped over her lap.

“The whole time,” Frankie said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Mac said, and shuddered. “I had a weird dream. I’ve already forgotten it, though. Wait a sec—the whole time? You mean we’re almost there?” Mac looked out the window and slipped her sunglasses onto the top of her head. She was relieved the throbbing pain was almost all gone, and the sun didn’t hurt her eyes anymore. “What’s the plan?”

Frankie folded the map and gazed out the window over Mac’s shoulder. “Everyone’s splitting up after we dump our stuff at the hostel. Some are going to a place near the Dunkin’ Donuts Center and—”