The woman sends me a warm smile and leads the way down the stairs.
“I don’t even know your name,” I say as we walk out the front door.
“It’s Sandra, dear.” She smiles warmly.
Sandra. That’s who my father had called for yesterday after I told him…
My face heats as I think about it.
Something is going on, but he won’t tell me what. I wonder if I can get Sandra to fill me in.
I study her. She has a friendly smile and warm eyes. It might not be a bad idea to see what I can get out of her.
One of my father’s many drivers takes us to the heart of the city. It’s not a long ride, maybe fifteen minutes, and before I know it, Sandra and I are standing on the street as the car drives off.
I shuffle onto the sidewalk and resist the urge to spin slowly as I take it all in. The buildings are old and beautiful, reaching two and three stories tall. Most of them are painted bright colors, with a few darker hues scattered between. Beautifulironwork makes up the top balconies, and some have scrolling decorations adorning the covered porches. Most of the buildings appear to be storefronts on the street level, but I wonder if people live above them.
Something clatters to the ground beside me. I whip around a little faster than my head can handle at the moment, and a wave of dizziness overtakes me. When my eyes are able to focus again, I see a woman sending me an apologetic smile as she tries to juggle a huge cardboard box, which appears to be overflowing. My eyes land on the ground, where it looks like something has fallen out and landed. A decoration, maybe?
I bend to pick the object up. A little black, wooden skull stares back at me, its sunken-in eye sockets painted vibrant pink.
“Oh, here,” I say, rushing to put the skull back in the box.
“Thank you,” the woman says and continues on her way after giving me a genuine smile.
My eyes follow her for a minute before I go back to looking around. Now I see all the decorations hanging in the shop windows and lining the streets. At first, one might think they’re for Halloween. They certainly look spooky, and the holiday is a week away, so it makes sense. But I know this celebration well. I grew up celebrating the Release of the Shadows all my life. Granted, at the cabin, the celebrations tended to be much smaller. There were only four of us after all.
I count the days in my head, only now realizing that Halloween and the Release of the Shadows share the same day this year. The aunts weren’t big on Halloween, not like it would have mattered since I couldn’t really trick-or-treat in the middle of the woods. I wonder what I’ll be doing on that day. Maybe I’ll be allowed out to see the city and take in the festivities. I also wonder how big the Release of the Shadows celebration will be.
Looking around, I see tons of skulls and shadow figures all in dark colors with brightly colored circles for eyes.
I’d say the celebration is going to be grand, and it makes me smile. To open the eyes of the dead who hold themselves in our shadows and release them to a better place is always a beautiful thing. It might be one of my favorite holidays.
I get a brief flash of a memory, but it’s gone before I can study it.
I step over to a shadow ghost hanging from a lamppost. I stop it from dancing in the breeze and turn it so it faces me. There’s nothing there. No smile. No expression. Nothing except sky blue circles for eyes. The opening of the eyes so they can see their way.
I drop my hand, another memory itching at the back of my mind. I wish I could recall whatever it is my brain is trying to share with me.
“What’s that?” Sandra asks, causing me to jump. She grabs my hand and turns it over so my palm is facing up. My sleeve slide halfway down to my elbow.
“I-I don’t know. I noticed it on my chest last night, but it wasn’t on my arms like this.” I’m looking at the vein-like lines running down to my wrist. They’re dark, so deep purple they almost look black.
Her brows pull tight as she studies the lines. When she looks up at me, there’s nothing in her expression. I find it very odd, but I don’t open my mouth to point it out.
“Do you know what it is?” I ask frantically.
“No,” she replies, letting my hand go. I sense something in her tone, but my head is swimming too much for me to figure it out. “Maybe you’re having an allergic reaction to something.”
Her words make sense in my head. I try to think of what it could be. I’ve spent most of my life tucked away in a cottage, lost in the woods outside of the city. Well, the parts I really remember of my past, anyway. I’d never had any kind of reaction like this before. I’d say it could be the new environment, butI’ve been here long enough that I would think something should have shown up by now. The only other thing I can think is maybe I ate something, but trying to pinpoint what it could have been seems impossible. What could give me such a bad allergic reaction that it causes my skin to look like it’s been tattooed?
“What should I do? Should I take something?” It all rushes out at once. I hope she understands what I need.
She starts moving again, leaving me to think maybe it’s not a big deal. Or is it? Should I tell her how I’ve been feeling?
I follow blindly behind her as she ducks into a shop. The space is small and smells of herbs. A strange warmth falls over me, and I don’t think it’s coming from the temperature in here.
“Sandra,” the tall, willowy woman with pale skin and black hair greets from behind the counter. She rushes out to embrace Sandra. When her eyes turn on me, I take a step back. I don’t know her, and I’m not a very huggy type of person if I’m not familiar with someone. Sure, the aunts hugged me, but oddly, those embraces are hazy at best. Part of me worries I wouldn’t even know how to do it right. She must sense my distance and turns her gaze back to Sandra. “It’s so lovely to see you.”
