Deja Vu: The Locket

There has always been something oddly comforting about the smell of a thrift store. The musky scent of worn and used clothes; furniture once proudly displayed in someone's home now resting and waiting to be made useful again. It always gave me a feeling of nostalgia and sadness, but for my best friend Morgan, it was a place of hidden treasures and glory. She was a big thrifter, as she was always bringing back pieces to put in our college apartment. Despite my feelings towards the thrift store, Morgan is dragging me along for her newest search. To find an amazing, one of a kind, never before seen Halloween costume to wear to a major party tonight. As she would say, all the upperclassmen go to this, and as sophomore's it was a big deal we were even invited. Well, Morgan flirted her way into securing us all tickets. By we I mean, me, Morgan, and our other roommate and best friend Layla.

I poke around the store, Trina's Trinkets, a family owned store that has been in the city for over 100 years or something like that. Morgan is on a mission to put together her Halloween costume, last minute. Classic Morgan.

"What do you think of this, Lucy?" I turn to see Morgan holding up an old sweater that looks oddly like something my grandma would wear when she was alive.

"I'm not sure I'm seeing the vision, Morgs," I tell her.

She rolls her eyes before setting it back on the rack she pulled it from. "You never get the vision," she mumbles under her breath, but loud enough so she knows I heard her.

I roll my eyes as I turn away from her. She flits around the store going rack by rack, picking up items and holding them up to herself before putting them down. I giggle to myself. Halloween was Morgan's favorite holiday and every year she changes her mind at the last minute. This year, however, we were supposed to be going as the PowerPuff Girls with our other friend, Layla but her and her new boyfriend are going as some couples costume, leaving Morgan panicked and me repeating my costume as a witch once again.

"We could do a couples costume, Luc," Morgan calls from the formal dresses. She pulls out a pink ball gown and grins at me.

"Right, you be the black cat to my witch," I reply.

"If you want to be a witch, be a good witch!" She runs over and puts the dress in my hands, before going back over and grabbing a black dress off the rack as well. "Come on, come one, scoot your boot. We don't have all day." She ushers me towards the dressing room before I can even formulate a response.

"Are you changing?" Morgan calls out from the dressing room next to me. She has always had a weird sense of knowing what I am up to. Or, she knows how little I like Halloween. The door to my dressing room flies open.

"Morgan!" I call out, clutching the dress to my chest despite being fully clothed.

"I knew you wouldn't be changed," she says stepping inside in her long black fitted dress. "Hurry up!"

She turns to check herself in the mirror as I clumsily undress next to her in the tiny room. I'm able to finagle the dress just so to pull it up, as the pink tulle over runs whatever space was left with the two of us in here. Morgan peels her eyes away from the mirror long enough to look at me and squeals. She opens the door and pulls us out to look in the full mirror in the back of the small thrift store.

"Now, do you see the vision?" She nudges me and raises her eyebrows.

"I'm not sure how the sweater fits into the Wizard of Oz?" I tease, confirming her question and acknowledging that her vision has since changed and became more clear.

"Okay, I'll wear your witches hat, you don't get to wear it this year, sorry. I think I'll just do like green eyeshadow, I don't want to paint myself completely green," her stream of consciousness is being verbalized out loud. I try to follow along as she prances around the room. "Oh! Lucy, look at this!" She calls out from the jewelry section. "This locket is perfect for your dress!"

"Does Glinda even wear a locket?" I say as I walk over to her. I look at the locket Morgan holds delicately in her hands. It's silver and dirty, like it hasn't been worn in years. Elegant flowers and vines cover the circular pendant. Morgan turns it over in her hand before handing it to me.

"Doesn't matter, it's too pretty not to have. Try it on," she demands.

I take the pendant from her, turning it over in my hands. I try opening it to see if there is anything inside; maybe a picture to tell me a small fraction of the previous owner's story, but the clasp won't budge. I slip the cool metal around my neck and the pendant falls into place, nesting right above my collar bones. My vision blurs.

I hear the sound of a trumpet playing, blues music, as laughter rings through my ears. The image of a man, not much older than me, comes into focus. His eyes are a bright blue, green and his hair is a sandy brown and follows down into his eyes. He rolls a set of dice letting out an excited yell, clapping his hands together. He gazes right into the eyes of my vision, pushing his hair back and putting a glass of whiskey to his lips with a smirk.

I let out a gasp and reach out before hearing him say my name: "Lucy? Lucy, what's wrong?" Except it isn't him, it's Morgan. But I see him reach out to me, a look of concern on his once excited face. I feel a touch and I am brought back to the present; Morgan's face hovers over mine, her eyes wide with concern.

"Woah, that was weird." I pull the necklace over my head, and place it gently around the hanger of the dress.

"What happened?" Morgan asks, voice full of alarm.

"I don't know, I think I just need to eat something. I got a little light headed," I lie. What she doesn't know won't hurt her.

"Okay, then." She drops the subject as suddenly as it came up. "Let's go eat then." We pay for the items, but I don't dare place the locket around my neck just yet.

After lunch, and a quick stop for Morgan to find the perfect eyeshadow pallet to complete her look, she drops me off at my parents house. Or, my dad's house now.

"Are you coming to the apartment to get ready?" Morgan asks as she puts the car in park.

"Yeah, I'll take my dad's car and meet you over there." I climb out of the car with a dress and locket in hand. Morgan drives away as I climb the three stairs to the front door or the little red house I've called home since birth.

The siding was cracked and in some spots, exposed wood shone through. The screen door creaked and I had to use my shoulder to open the front door to our little entryway. The white paint was chipping off the walls and a piece of trim was sitting on the entry table as it had come off the wall about a year ago and no one has put it back on yet. Papers are strung across the small kitchen table and dishes litter the sink and countertops. "Dad?" I call out. The tv is on in the living room, but he isn't in his usual reclining chair. I walk down the small hall, and poke my head into the bedroom where he is resting, still in his scrubs from his shift at the hospital. He's snoring softly, so I decide to leave him alone.

In the living room, I turn the television off and start working on the dishes in the sink. I haven't been home in a few weeks as my classes really started to pick up and my homework load got heavier. The mindless task eases my anxiety around the vision that happened in the thrift store. Those green eyes are burned into my mind. Maybe I was remembering an old movie, I think as I plunge my hands into warm sink water. Never hot, only ever warm.

I grew up in this home. Though it wasn't much it would always be home. There were so many memories from Halloweens to Christmases, New Years parties and birthday parties with friends I only knew their faces and no longer their stories or lives. Each room was full of some memory, which is why, after my mom died, I couldn't wait to get out. Once she was gone the rooms started to feel emptier and sadder. I could see how the house was making my dad feel, and I just couldn't bare to watch him waste away along with the house. I didn't go too far. Just down the road and up a hill, past three stop lights and you would hit my apartment just off the college's main campus. It was close enough to keep and eye on my dad, but far enough away from the sadness of my past to make it feel worth it.

"Lucy?" my dad's voice calls as he comes around the corner, into the kitchen. He rubs his eyes and lets out a yawn. "I was going to do those," he says, gesturing to the dishes I'm doing.

"No problem. You can dry."

I smile at my dad, and throw him a towel. He gives me a soft smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. They used to crinkle around the corners, but now he's smile lines around his mouth don't go as deep. He takes the towel and starts drying the dishes I already placed in the drying rack. We work in silence. I never know what to say to him anymore. I assume he never knows what to say to me either. We finish the dishes and my dad moves to the table to go through the papers.

"What's this?" he asks, noticing the big pink dress for the first time. He holds it up and raises an eyebrow at me.

I roll my eyes, "Morgan's Halloween vision. Layla bailed on the original costume, so this was Morg's last minute idea."

I take the dress from his hands and notice the lockets once more. My dad, luckily, doesn't press for much more information.

"Are you staying for dinner?" He asks. His eyes dart to the cupboards, which I know are empty since he never cooks.

"I'm actually going to head to the apartment to get ready, is that okay?"

"Of course." He lets out a sigh of relief. "I was going to head to work early anyway." A lie we both know, but will never admit to. He doesn't work on Saturdays; he is going to walk to Larry's Tavern, which is why I was taking the car tonight. We already talked about this, but I don't bring it up.

I finish tiding the living area as my dad scrambled around the kitchen. I start to dust off the few family pictures we have left in the house, as my dad's therapist recommended he remove anything in the house that didn't cause him joy. That included every picture that had my mom in it. This one, a small photo of me, my dad, my mom, and my dad's parents, is the only one that is still out, tucked away hidden behind the tv. I'm not even sure he knows it is there, but I don't dare move it. I want to protect my mom's memory.

"When were you leaving again?" My dad's voice startles me, as if I was caught doing something wrong.

"Yeah, sorry! I'm going now," I say, sweeping my hand across the TV console.

"Well, um, I made you some eggs and toast. We can have a quick egg sandwiches, like we used to." He shrugs his shoulders as if it's not a big deal.

"Of course, dad." I walk over and give him a big hug. He squeezes me back before we go to eat the sandwiches, a nice surprise, for a small family dinner for the first time in a year.