Page 24 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

Naomi runs outside with her books in a bag. I meant to turn back to grab them myself, but I got distracted by getting her into the car. When she hands me the bag through the window after I roll it down, she says. “Call me tomorrow if you can. Let me know how she’s doing?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I will.” It seems like it’s enough for the young guy to be certain I’m not drugging and kidnapping someone. He pulls away without answering my question about waking Lillith, which is answer enough, I guess.

It’s only about a twenty minute ride before we get to the shop. The driver, who I learn is named Luke by looking at the app, plays some lo-fi over the speakers at a soft volume, taking a break here and there to sip a red bull. He’s patient when we pull up to Lillith’s home.

It’s a cool-looking place on the outside, with a hand-painted sign and black and white striped awnings. The font on the sign is bold with vintage swirls and a painting of an albino nightingale with crimson eyes perched on one of the letters.

I brush my fingers through her hair with a little bit of gentle force. “Lillith, sweetheart, can you wake up for me?”

Her long lashes flutter and she opens her eyes, they’re hooded as she looks at me.

“Damien,” she says, sounding tired and relieved in equal measure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I say. “We’re at your shop. You said your apartment is here too, right?”

She nods and reaches into her top to produce a black lacquered key out of her bra. I snort a little laugh and she gives me a tired smile.

“Didn’t want to carry a purse—thought a fanny pack would look dumb.”

“I’ll help with the bags you guys have,” Luke says as he exits the car and comes to grab them.

“A fanny pack would be fucking adorable,” I say as Luke carries the bags over to the door. “Can I carry you up the stairs?” I ask her.

She looks like she thinks about it for a moment before she nods. “Yeah, thank you.”

I lift her in a princess carry. She blinks blearily, wrapping her little arms around the back of my neck. “I’m sorry if I’m heavy.”

“You aren’t,” I say, smiling down at her.

The street her shop and home sits on is silent except for the distant crashing of waves from the ocean. It’s dark, but I think I can see the pale light of dawn starting to color the edge of the horizon.

“Can I uh...leave this here?” Luke asks awkwardly.

“Yeah, no worries,” I say. “I’ll grab it later. Thanks for the ride, man.”

“Yeah,” he says before leaving with much more ceremony than that.

The neighborhood is nice. Clean in the strange way everything else is clean in Del Lune. I swear this place is like a bizarrely idyllic pocket of the world. I wonder if Lillith has ever left the insular calm of this little town. These places have a way of putting you in a spell. An invisible bell jar that keeps you comfortable without even realizing you’re trapped.

We reach the door of her shop, and she leans down to unlock the single deadbolt. A bell rings, announcing our arrival to its empty interior as I push the door open with my foot. It’s dark except for some twinkle lights that frame an open doorway that leads to a set of narrow stairs.

“That way?” I ask. She nods.

I take her up the stairs and she uses the same key to unlock the door to her apartment.

It’s dim inside of her apartment, too, but at least somewhat warmly lit by salt lamps and yellow-tinged lightbulbs behind vintage lampshades. It’s a cozy place. Not too warm, not too cool. A salty breeze blows in through a cracked window in the kitchen that holds a distant view of the white capped Pacific Ocean.

“Bed or couch?” I ask her.

She seems to hesitate, and when I look down at her she’s flushing pink. I can tell even in the dark.

“What’s wrong? You getting another aura?”

“You know a lot about seizures,” she says.

“Well—occupational hazard I guess.”

“What do drummers need to know about seizures?” she asks me.