“Nah, I’m good. Just out of it… I think, everything that’s been going on, just starting to get to me.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say, sipped her drink, and took in his place. Music wafted from his wall unit speaker, Chaka crooning, “Please stay with me now…” It had been months since she’d stepped foot into Trevor’s apartment. Things hadn’t changed much. A big living room with hardwood floors. A mauve shaggy carpet in the middle. A round, wooden coffee table with bills and a bowl for keys and little knickknacks, including the sun amulet Trevor had taken out at her place. Big flat-screen TV that was on, volume low. Wicker bookshelves with musical biographies and political biographies and fantasy novels and mythology texts and manga. On the walls, framed vinyl albums. Trevor’s favorite musical era? Clearly the ’70s, almost two decades before he was born. Marvin, live at the London Palladium, legs splayed wide as he sang his heart out… fire. Aretha when she was rocking an Afro, looking so confident in nothing but a white fur. Stevie in his cornrows and a velvet brown robe in the desert, flanked by brushwood. Diana, in wrap top and lavender bottom, skin aglow, arms outstretched to open the door to her house long as you knew who ran the show. But what really caught Evelyn’s eye, like the first time she’d visited his place, a poster of Al Green and Ann Peebles sitting on a porch, barefoot, holding hands. Countrified. Al in an open blue shirt and light blue jeans torn right by his crotch, Ann in a pink patterned dress, open at the top. For a moment, Evelyn imagined herself in the same pose, same attire, with Trevor.
It struck her just how sensual the entire display was. Sensual and proudly Black. Hadn’t dawned on her during her previous visits. Trevor may not have been showing up fully in relationships, but he was showing up for himself. He’d curated a home that reflected his passions, a more organic, honest presentation of self than what Evelyn had ever cultivated. She had so much work to do.
One thingwasnew in the apartment, which she glimpsed from the corner of her eye… the large wooden cross above his door.
He gestured over toward the hallway and kitchen doorway. “Made some grilled salmon, spinach, quinoa…” He poked his thumb over at the bathroom. A plush robe hung on the door. “Got that last night. Just wanted to make sure to have something here so you can feel comfortable.” A peck on the lips. “I’ma go check on the food.” A sweep of his arms. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Evelyn sat down and looked at the TV. On CNN, a live feed from New York. A slender, somber-faced man was speaking. The banner at the bottom identified him as Fonseca “Fonsi” Harewood, New York mystic, owner of the Bronx-based botanica La Playa Espiritu. One of the biggest news platforms on the planet was hosting a mystic on their station, had identified their guest as a mystic. The world, forever transformed.
Fonsi had a fade, goatee, and gentle demeanor. Definitely gave off Caribbean, Afro-Latino vibes. Something Evelyn always loved experiencing when she visited New York. She leaned in to better see the captions.
“I’m part of a special mystical community,” Fonsi said. He spoke slowly. His head was lowered. He wasn’t used to being on camera. “We’ve been in dialogue with each other, and after much soul searching and deliberation, I realized it was important to share what I know, what we believe. This is a hard time for the people of the DMV region with the death of Pastor Samuelson. People are leaving the area in droves. We haven’t been able to fully understand what happened to him and the rest of the so-called Afflicted, though we do believe it was supernatural. But just from precedence, from everything we’ve learned about how spirits and apparitions work, it’s almost unheard of for someone to be ‘infected’”—Fonsi held up his fingers, made quotation marks—“with a supernatural entity. We’ve simply never heard of anything like it.”
The host chimed in. “And so how are the people of the greater DC metropolitan area supposed to feel safe? Supposedly something never happened along the lines of the Ghost Equinox, and yet there it was…”
Fonsi nodded. “You’re right. We don’t have the answers. We can’t make any guarantees. But I just, uh… We just wanted to contribute to the dialogue. To provide perspective and hopefully help alleviate fears. We’re trying our best to determine what’s happening and have offered our services to local authorities.”
Evelyn rubbed her legs and arms, now covered in goose bumps. She wanted to believe Fonsi’s words, to find even a smidgeon of reassurance in what he had to say. There was nothing.
Trevor brought over a plate of cheese and prosciutto. “We don’t have to keep this on.”
“No… no, it’s okay. I want to be informed. I mean, if it’s okay with you to keep this on. I took the Metro here instead of an Uber, because I can’t stay in my house a jacked-up mess.”
“Shit, Evie, what was I thinking? I should’ve picked you up. Or we could’ve just chilled at your place.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I was scared out of my mind during COVID… It was hard. And we knew pretty quickly what we were dealing with, what the dangers were. This is something different. I can’t hide again like that. I won’t hide again. It almost broke me.”
“This guy, Fonsi… seems okay,” Trevor said. “They’ve been looping this convo on the regular, but I don’t know if it’s helping any. At the station, we’ve been discussing how to be of service. Another special-projects person is gonna do a report on mass hysteria in America, how we have a long history of jumping to conclusions, acting crazy when we don’t understand something. I’m going to do a follow-up on how marginalized communities are affected. Have you heard? There’re already some far-right mofos saying that this demon shit is coming from Black folks, that it’s evidence how Ebenezer is a corrupted, evil place. Even some politicians have been echoing their nonsense.”
“I didn’t know,” Evelyn said. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Not one otherperson at Ebenezer has been affected by what took down their pastor, yet all the parishioners are automatically seen as dangerous. ’Cuz they’re Black. Never fails…”
“I didn’t want to talk about this,” Trevor said. “I wanted our time… how we’re connecting… not to be tainted by what’s going on.”
“It’s already tainted.” Evelyn regretted the words soon as they left her mouth. Hurt sprang up on Trevor’s face. “Oh, not how I feel about you, sweetie. Not what we do. I just mean… we can’t act like this isn’t going on. It’s affecting your job, it’s going to affect what I ultimately choose to do. It’s going to change the cityforever.” She gestured at Trevor’s wooden cross. “It’s changing you. Your cross… that amulet you carry around. You’re not that religious or superstitious, right?”
“I’m not, but maybe that needs to change until we get real answers. And, um, there’s also something else I wanted to tell you…” Trevor rubbed the back of his head. “It’s my parents. They’ve decided that they want to leave Maryland. They think it’s time to head back to Louisiana and want me to help them get settled.”
“Huh… okay.” Evelyn placed her hands on her thighs and sat up straighter. “When… when are they leaving?”
“In two days, believe it or not, but I told them that’s way too fast for me. I need at least a few more days, get myself squared away with work, figure out how to do stuff remotely when I’m there with them.”
“And why do you need to go? Can’t one of your sisters help them move?”
“One of my sistersisgoing with them, actually, since she’s currently not working. But I’m… I’m their only son, and they feel like they need me to be there, especially with my pops up there in age. You know, the whole there-needs-to-be-a-man-of-the-house-making-decisions sort of thing, and…”
“And they’re probably going to try and convince you to stay in Louisiana so you can continue to be the man oftheirhouse. Wow. So whathappened to all of your talk about being brave, about facing our fears when it comes to mystical shit?”
“I’m not going to live there permanently, Evie. I’m just helping my folks settle. Listen, I let them know where I stand, that I’m not leaving DC. I made a promise. You and I, we’ll handle this together.”
“I mean… do they… do they even know about me?” she asked, her words laced with resentment, bitterness. Was she being unfair? They were his parents. They had every right to want their son to be there for them.
“They know… I’ve been talking to someone,” he said. “I mean, I’ve definitely talked to my sisters about you, and they want to meet you. Soon. My folks, well, I like to take my time with them when it comes to introducing romantic interests. They’re… shall we say… rough around the edges with the women in my life.”
“Huh… okay.” She folded her arms, unsuccessful in her attempt to be calm and understanding and open-minded. The situation was becoming a tad clearer in Evelyn’s mind, that maybe there was no woman who’d be considered good enough for their beloved Trevor.
She wasn’t going to be silent. She’d been silent for so long. No more. That wasn’t who she was.
