Don't Touch the Pearls

Despite her young age of twenty-one, Bev Tabor was no fool. She brought reinforcements for the weekend – her best friend Derry and her near-twin Darian, born just ten months apart and inseparable. Bev had no desire to stay in the old, unkempt Victorian house for one hour, let alone an entire weekend. But it was an emergency. She may not like the house or the owner, but she loved her brother Brad and was willing to do her part, even though he had said for her to come alone.

So, when her cell phone rang, she shushed her bickering friends.

“Hey Brad, I’m here.”

“Great. Thanks. I really appreciate you helping out. I wouldn’t ask but…”

“I know. Have you talked to Gavin yet? Is he okay?”

“He hasn’t come out of surgery yet. Hopefully by the time the flight lands, he will be awake.”

Bev focused her attention on the weathered wood frame screen door with multiple holes punched through the mesh. “Why is this place such a disgrace? Lord knows she has enough money to maintain it.”

“I don’t know, Bev. Something in the trust about how the money is to be spent.”

“Well, you know I don’t want to be here.”

“I know, Kiddo. But I wouldn’t have asked if Gavin didn’t have a stroke.”

“It’s not just the house. It’s her. She hates me. I don’t want to be near her.” Bev felt a ripple of fear tremble through her body, and she started to visibly shake. Derry reached out a hand and placed it on her friend’s arm. Reinforcements.

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Either way, she’s catatonic. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I moved a hundred miles to get away from her and she still hurts me, every day.”

“That’s your mind playing tricks on you. Are you still seeing your therapist?”

“Yes, once a week like clockwork.”

“Good. Listen, I’ve got to go, but call me later.”

“You promise you’ll be back Monday morning? We’ve got classes.”

“We? Bev, did you bring Derry with you?” Brad’s voice changed from concerned older brother to annoyed and suspicious lawyer.

Bev glanced at her friend who was shivering from the early morning October air and checking out the depressing yard of dried, fallen leaves on patches of weedy grass and holidays of dirt.

“Seriously, Brad? Did you really expect me to come alone? Might as well make reservations at a psych ward after the weekend.”

“And where Derry goes, Darian isn’t far behind. Just tell them not to touch anything. Guess you and Derry will have to take my room. Clean sheets are in the linen closet. Darian can have the guest room I made up for you.”

“Okay. Thanks brother. Have a safe flight.”

“Bev? Remember, don’t touch anything. Nothing.”

“How are we supposed to cook and eat if I can’t touch anything?”

“You know what I mean. Don’t touch her personal belongings. Especially the necklace.”

“I know. Don’t touch the pearls. Fucking creepy if you ask me.”

“Yeah, well, if I’m going to inherit the damn money, which you know I will split with you, then don’t touch anything.”

“I got it. Don’t touch anything,” Bev said in a mocking deep voice.

She could almost see her brother through the phone giving her his twisted grin. The one he wore when he was amused but had to pretend he was the responsible older brother of nearly thirteen years.

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” She answered and disconnected the call just as a voice on the other line called out on a PA system for boarding to Atlanta.

She put her phone into her jacket pocket and Derry released her comforting touch. “It’s a beautiful morning, Bev. Look.”

Bev followed her friend’s pointing finger at the full moon set alone on a clear sky, like a giant lightbulb illuminating the world, pushing back the draperies of a dark night.

“It was a good night to cleanse my stones,” Darian said, referring to his collection of gemstones sitting in a crystal bowl on his nightstand.

“Yeah, well, your stones will just have to wait for the next full moon,” Bev responded, fishing her hand into a soil-filled clay pot to extract a single key from underneath a dried, shriveled plant of unknown origins. It was no use reminding him that he could have stayed back at the apartment the three of them shared just a few blocks from campus. No way was he going to let either Derry or Bev go off to Amherst by themselves. They were all three city-folk, thriving in the bustling streets of Boston. Amherst was cow country and God forbid, Bev and Derry have an adventure without him.

But to Bev, this wasn’t an adventure. This was a nightmare. An unexpected nightmare. One she hadn’t been able to prepare for with hours of meditation and self-reflection. She inserted the key into the bolted lock and turned, not even realizing she was holding her breath, until she pushed the door opened and stepped into the foyer.

She was punched in the face with the stench of mold, old peeling wallpaper and glue, overlaid by an antiseptic smell.

“Damn,” Darian said as he stepped into the house behind his sister. “Glad I brought my inhaler. Mold kills, you know.”

“So do older sisters when their whiny brothers don’t shut up,” Derry responded, following Bev to the left as she crept into a large room filled with bric-a-brac on top of gaudy, ornate wooded pieces of furniture. In the middle of the room was a hospital bed and the hushed sound of breathing.

Bev flipped the light switch, and the room was aglow with one somber light bulb, exposed through the missing panes of a tear-drop flush mounted stained-glass fixture.

“Damn,” Darian elongated the word to express his disgust mixed with a surreal awe at the woman upright in the bed.

Bev immediately snatched her phone from her pocket and tapped on the last incoming call.

“Bev, I’m boarding. I can’t be on the phone. What’s wrong?”

“Are her eyes supposed to be opened? I thought she was in a coma.”

“She’s not technically in a coma, and yes, sometimes her eyes open and shut. Just reflexes. Don’t freak out on me now.”

Bev cleared her throat. “I’m not freaking out. Just wanted to make sure is all.”

“Sometimes she even makes noises, like she’s clearing her throat. But she can’t talk to you or react or anything. I promise. I wouldn’t let you near her if she could hurt you.”

Bev waited a beat. “Okay. I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay. I promise. Say hi to Gavin when he wakes up.”

“Will do, Kiddo. I’ll talk to you soon.” He ended the call.

“That’s sick,” Darian said and inched closer to the woman in the bed.

“Darian, shut up,” Derry snapped.

“But look.” He pointed at the multi-strand of pearls around the bedridden woman’s neck. “Her skin is growing over the choker.”

Derry and Bev crept up to Darian and looked at where he was pointing. Sure enough, gray flesh had started to absorb the pearls into folds, like a tree eventually growing around an embedded nail.

“Your mom’s a fucking freak,” Darian said, still staring at the flesh of her neck forming into pearl shaped lumps.

Derry smacked her brother’s back. “Shut up, Darian.”

“He’s right, Derry. My mother is a fucking freak. A mean, mother-fucking freak.” Bev shook off a shiver and the lone light bulb pulsed a bright orange before it popped into tiny fragments of cascading glass, dousing Darian’s head.