“Does this all need to be done before midnight?” Corinne asks, eyes trained forward.
It’s pitch black and the roads, while mostly clear, are still a little slick.
“Yes. If it’s not done before the final stroke of twelve, Lanie will burst into flames and join the otherworld.” I grin, meeting Corinne’s laughing eyes through the rearview mirror.
At least she finds me funny.
“You’re an ass,” Lanie spits, and I shrug.
Corinne pulls up to the docks, parking the car. “Get out,” she barks. “Let’s get this over with.”
Nina and I roll our eyes at Corinne, and Lanie flips her the bird. I’ve become numb to Corinne’s snark and sass. It’s just who she is.
The place is empty, most of the boats having been stored for the winter months. Ahead of us is nothing but dark sky and still black water as far as the eyes can see.
“It’s chilly out here tonight,” Nina says, shivering next to me. She’s wearing an NYU sweatshirt that looks two times too big for her. It hangs loosely, mid-thigh, against her black yoga pants. The only indication she realized it was winter are the gray-and-tan duck boots on her feet.
“Why didn’t you wear a jacket?” I ask, watching her shoulders shake and hearing her teeth chatter.
“I was warm from the merlot. Now I’m not.”
“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Lanie says, bundled up under a furry, oversize, green-and-cream-striped sweater jacket, holding a bundle of white flowers in her hand. “We’re going to run out of time.”
We all trail after her, making our way to the end of a dock, overlooking the dark water beyond.
“What should we say?” I ask, looking around at our little group.
“I’ve got this,” Lanie says, taking a deep breath in and letting it out. “Mother Earth, universe, spirit guides, and angels, we bring to you a token of our appreciation; and with this gift, we benevolently ask for a prosperous New Year. May you bless us all with abundance and joy. Namaste.”
“Namaste,” Corinne and Nina echo.
Lanie gives me a pointed look, which I just barely see under the dim light from the pole overhead, and I rush out the word. “Namaste.”
“Were you practicing that little speech the entire way over here?” Corinne says.
Lanie doesn’t deign to answer, concentrating on passing out a few flowers to each of us. She places a kiss atop the petals of her small bouquet before tossing them into the harbor.
We all follow suit, and then stand and watch as the white flowers disappear into the pitch-black night.
“What the hell kinda hoodoo was that?” a man slurs, appearing out of nowhere.
He’s wearing a large, tan fishing coat that’s seen better days. His hair is disheveled, and he’s clutching a bottle of cheap booze.
None of us had seen him before now, but he must’ve witnessed our whole ritual.
“We used to burn witches back in my day,” he slurs, moving toward us at a snail’s pace, dragging his right leg behind him. He’s giving meI Know What You Did Last Summer–vibes, and I think it’s time we go before we meet the same fate as the girl in red.
“Shut up, you old drunk,” Lanie barks. “Go back into the hole you crawled out of.”
“Lanie,” Nina snaps. “Be nice.”
“Yeah…Let’s not provoke the scary guy. He might have an ax under that jacket,” I whisper.
“Get gone before I call a priest,” he shouts, and I grab Nina by the arm, pulling her along with me, Corinne and Lanie right on our heels.
When we’re in the safety of the car, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Good grief…where did that guy come from?”
