You can’t trust anyone, she thought, but in the tiny bathroom with the inconsolable woman on her shoulder, she didn’t feel as confident as she did in James’ room.
When Edie finally got Cassidy calmed down enough to stop crying, they both sat in silence in the villa’s living room, consumed by their own thoughts. Sunrise approached, but as it did, they kept the darkness at bay by locking all the doors into the living room and turning on every light at their disposal. In an unspoken agreement, they stayed in the living room together until daylight, then they could decide what to do next.
“What does it mean?” Cassidy asked, breaking the silence so suddenly that Edie jumped. They sat in loveseats, facing one another over the coffee table.
“You mean, that it looks like they never existed?”
Cassidy sighed and rolled her head on her neck until she faced the ceiling. “No, that we still remember them even though they don’t exist anymore.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“So, it’s a conspiracy then?”
“No,” Edie said, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. “I think it’s a game.”
Cassidy sat up, grabbing her head with both hands. “And our friends are playing?”
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told James—”
“You know that’s bullshit,” Cassidy cut her off. “I heard what you told James, and I don’t think you believe it.”
Edie set her jaw. Exhaustion consumed her and she couldn’t think straight. Deep down, she was afraid, but she also knew that if Rose could be there, she would assure her that what Cassidy suggested just wasn’t possible. But Rose wasn’t there, and she couldn’t account for that. It was so completely out of character for her to disappear without a trace that it threatened to upturn Edie’s world. and there was thatthing …
Nothing made any sense, but it had to have a reasonable explanation. Edie just needed to stay on her toes, because even if the events of the past few days weren’t magic, they were insidious.
“How do you explain my tattoo disappearing?” Cassidy asked, breaking Edie’s concentration.
“You’re covered in tattoos. I have to just take your word for it that one of them is missing.”
Cassidy leaned back in the loveseat and crossed her arms and legs. To Edie, she looked like a meditating oracle, which was fitting. She asked questions like riddles that she expected Edie to solve. “Why are you here, then? If you think I’m such a liar, why are you here?”
“Because you asked me to stay with you.”
“You think I’m one of them and I’m in on the whole thing, so what does it matter to you?”
Edie struggled in her sleep addled state to respond.
Cassidy continued. “You were scared shitless when I got to your tent this morning, and now you’re trying to act all tough and reasonable, but you know something else is happening and you know I’m not a part of it,” her voice low and full of venom.
“What do you think is happening, then, Cassidy?” Edie asked, keeping her voice just as low and conspiratorial.
Cassidy shrugged and dropped her crossed arms. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. Maybe we died and this is hell.”
Hell would be an eternity with you,Edie thought, but she said nothing so that the silence cemented between them. Their eyes remained locked on one another for several moments, daring the other to blink. Cassidy broke first, closing her eyes and sighing, then unclenched her body and stuffed herself rigidly into the corner of the loveseat in a staged attempt at relaxation. Soon, however, her body sank into the chair and her breathing became audible from across the seating area.
Edie thought about Rose. Not the thing that took Rose’s form and that she pursued through the crowd, but the Rose that she went to the show with that night, the Rose she met so many years ago on that first gig whom she took an immediate liking to. That Rose demanded that all the Black women hired for the job, all three of them out of the fifteen models hired for that particular runway show, had a hair stylist who was familiar with their hair type. Edie relaxed her hair, and back then even considered shaving her head after too many bad experiences with so-called ‘professionals’ who couldn’t deal with natural hair, but Rose refused to do any of that.
“If you’re going to hire us for our looks, then you’re going to take care of our looks. We’ve always been here and we’re not going away,” Rose said.
Rose was always so blunt and bold, and Edie was sure that this girl was going to get fired and have shit talked about her behind her back as one of those ‘angry Black women’ that white designers complained about. To Edie’s surprise, though, they agreed. Rose had a stylist in mind whom she trusted and that person was immediately hired for the show, no other questions asked. Maybe she still got shit talked later, but Edie wasn’t there for it, and no one complained about or mangled her hair.
The memory made Edie smile. That was Rose, pure and simple, and she always admired her for that. Rose was always just herself, unapologetically. Edie appreciated her authenticity more than anything and worried endlessly that she wasn’t as honest with herself about who she was.
As she sat in Cassidy’s villa, she couldn’t figure out what her own authentic thoughts were. It was completely impossible for people to be disappearing like it seemed, but thatthingin the crowd was real enough.
She shivered and let her mind wander to other things, like the bigger issues at hand. So much of it she’d already discussed with Rose and the two of them had dismissed it as a hoax.
What did it mean for her friend to completely disappear? What if Rose really did no longer exist, like Cassidy said? What if she started to forget all about Rose?
