Djinn Read online

  A smiling female face stared back at her from the other side of the bed. Some detached memory tried to offer assistance.

  Drinking…

  “How much did I have to drink?” she said.

  Her mouth, halfway buried by her pillow made her words sound muffled to her ears. She pushed herself up from off her stomach and regretted this decision even more than the whole eyelid fiasco. The thrumming pain in her skull became full on booming and she eased herself back down, eyes again closed.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t usually do this kind of thing… with girls,” she said, trying to extricate herself from what, even hung-over, she knew was going to be an uncomfortable and awkward situation.

  Her eyes reopened to see how the girl was taking it so far. Emma’s brow furrowed again and she raised her head, the pain reminding her to take it slow. A second more and realization hit her.

  “Huh,” she said, staring into the eyes of the pretty girl on the flier. She was dressed in a waitress uniform and stood there perky and at attention, pad and pencil in hand ready to take an order. Beside her, in large letters were the words EAT AT BIG ED’S! COME SEE WHAT’S ON THE MENU! Emma reached over and crumpled the ad, tossing it on the floor. She rolled over on her back and waited for the room to stop spinning. Working her tongue and mouth, they both felt like cotton in the Sahara. She heard a sound and realized it was her stomach.

  Three words penetrated her mind.

  Chicken and Waffles…

  She swung her feet off the side of the bed without sitting up, her body taking on the shape of a punctuation mark. A comma or an open parenthesis, maybe. She knew the next step was sitting up and it was something she did not look forward to. Her stomach rumbled again, reminding her it wasn’t going anywhere. Having prolonged the inevitable as best she could, Emma summoned her courage and sat up. She stopped at 90 degrees, but it felt like the room continued on for 360 more, dipping down and coming back around and smacking her in the head. Her hands reached for the mattress to either side of her and held on for dear life. Gradually, the room stopped spinning and she felt almost ready to prepare herself for the next crucial step.

  A step.

  She stood and now the floor seemed to float under her feet clear up through the ceiling. Fortunately, it also came back around and eventually settled where it should be.

  “Zombies,” she said.

  The thought was random and seemed to come out of nowhere. It made her laugh and it was the first real sign that she may not be hung-over after all.

  She might be still drunk.

  Looking back at her bed, she seriously considered giving up, but she had come so far and the thought of doing all this over again in a couple of hours made her look away. She took a step. Or rather shuffled her feet forward across the floor, repeating this process until she was half way across her bedroom. That’s when she caught sight of herself in the mirror above her dresser.

  Zombies didn’t seem so funny anymore.

  She ran her hand through her hair, believing it helped and continued out into the kitchen/dining room/den area of her trailer. It was then her mind split open. A screeching sound like a soul being burned alive rang out and the pain almost brought her to her knees. The world shifted on its axis and Emma grabbed the wall for balance. The sound did not repeat and her vision focused on a green spot across the room. Barrett paced on his perch, glaring at her with his beady eyes.

  “Lush!” he said.

  Emma winced.

  “I’ll deal with you… sometime, she said, looking at the trailer door and making it her next life goal.

  Three shuffles and a stumble later, she was outside. Her feet hit the dirt and she realized she had no shoes on. In a panic, she did a quick inventory and made sure that was the only thing she was missing. Satisfied, she rested one hand on the roof of her car. Three sluggish pulls later, each one making her head hurt more, the door came open. She spun around and plopped down in the driver’s seat. She knew what came next and she didn’t like it. Three slams that made her brain hurt enough to cry and her door was closed. She rested her head on the steering wheel and prayed.

  “Shit, where are my keys?” she said.

  She opened her eyes and saw them dangling from the ignition.

  “Oh thank God, she said and then gave the keys a crank. A few seconds later, the car began to roll, albeit not necessarily on a straight course, and she was headed to Big Ed’s.

  She hoped it wouldn’t take long.

  It didn’t take very long. In fact, she was there before she thought she should be, not quite remembering Big Ed’s being that close to the campground. She didn’t linger on the thought as she stumbled into the diner. The place was bustling. Waitresses moved about in droves, plates in each hand, setting them down at tables and quickly returning to the pick up window. The smell of hot chicken and waffles wafted over to her and made her feel ravenous. Scanning the diner, her bleary eyes found a booth with an empty table and she threw herself at it, collapsing onto the padded vinyl. The pain reminded her again that what she had done was not yet forgiven by her head as it felt like fresh spikes were being pounded into her skull. She looked around for the nearest waitress to flag them down and place her order. Before her hand was in the air, a full plate of chicken and waffles was plopped down in front of her.

  “Oh, okay, that’s not mine. I mean it’s what I was… going to… order…” she said, trying to tell the waitress about her error, but the waitress had already turned away and was heading back to the window.

  Emma watched her go, then cut her eyes down at the fresh plate. The smell beckoned to her and she quickly picked up a fork and a bottle of syrup.

  “Who’s ever this was can get over it,” she said, emptying half the syrup over her waffle.

  The first bite made her groan with pleasure and she picked up her knife and attacked the rest of it in a feeding frenzy. Half way through the waffle, she remembered the chicken. She dropped her knife and fork and grabbed a juicy leg and sank her teeth into it.

  That’s when the second order of chicken and waffles arrived.

  “Hey, no, I’ve got mine—” she said, as the waitress turned and walked away, preventing any further protest.

  She watched the woman go to the window and grab two more plates. Just then another waitress appeared and plopped dishes of her own down on the table. Before Emma could say a word, this waitress too was gone, returning to the pick up window for resupply.

  Her food forgotten, Emma scanned the diner. The sight made her sit up. All around, every table was piled with fresh plates of chicken and waffles. More were being delivered by the minute by more waitresses than she could ever recall seeing in Big Ed’s. Some tables had reached their capacity and the sound of dishes sliding off and smashing to the floor made her jump.

  “What the hell is going on here?” she said.

  By degree she saw exactly what was going on. There were no actual diners besides her in the diner. Every booth and every table was empty. This was enough to give her pause. When she looked at the waitresses, it gave her a chill. They all looked the same. Not just dressed the same. They all looked exactly like the girl in the flier she had woke up next to. Each and every waitress was a twin of the other. Emma could only stare. Looking into their eyes, she felt the chill turn into a deep freeze as her skin went cold. All the waitresses had the same vacant stare, the same expressionless face. They moved across the diner in a trance, more drones than people, from the tables and booths, to the pickup window, and back again. More crashes made her jump and she looked to the pick up window and the kitchen beyond. There the cook was sliding two more plates, ready to go, on the counter. The same vacant, emotionless look on his face.

  Emma felt a wave of nausea wash over her. What she was seeing couldn’t be real, and that could only mean one thing. She had drank too much and slept too little. She realized that was two things, but it didn’t stop her from crawling out of the booth and making a bee-line for the door. Already
unsteady on her feet, her path was littered with broken plates, chicken, and waffles. Her foot came down on a waffle slathered in melted butter and went out from under her. She careened to the side, slamming against the register counter. Pulling herself up, her breath coming in short gasps, Emma flung herself out the door.

  With her hands on her knees, she leaned over and tried to catch her breath. When her gasps slowed, she stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm. Pulling her keys from her pocket, she scanned the parking lot for her car. There were no other cars in the parking lot except her own. There weren’t any other cars in any of the other parking lots either. It was then that she saw them. Everywhere her head turned, there was a Big Ed’s. Next to each other. Across from each other. Everywhere, a Big Ed’s. All looking the same. Through the big front window of each of them, the same thing happening. Figures moved about in endless loops, waitresses put orders on tables. She recognized now what she hadn’t understood before. The reason it seemed such a short drive to the diner. Big Ed’s was on Cedar Lane. Looking to the road just beyond the parking lot, she saw a sign.

  COUNTY ROAD

  13

  The campground was off County Road 13. She never even made the turn. She couldn’t be more than a couple of miles from her trailer.

  Emma put her hands back on her knees and leaned over again. And then she threw up.

  With her stomach now even more empty, she stumble-ran to her car, fought her customary duel with the door, and drove off in a cloud of emissions.

  4

  Emma careened into the Hemisphere Haven Campground and Family Fun Center, welcomed back home by the one handed gestures and verbal declarations of her neighbors. None of it even made a dent in her attention. She was focused on only one thing now, getting back in bed and not waking up until she was as sober as a Nun.

  Some part of her psyche, even in the condition her condition was in, saw the young girl standing by her trailer with what looked like maybe a maid, or was it…

  A waitress?!

  The thought made her blood curdle as she stood on the brakes and skidded to a dust-cloud stop. In no mood for the door ritual, she hauled herself out through the window and raced to her trailer. In her peripheral, she saw the young girl track her with her eyes and maybe raise a finger in the air as if to ask a question.

  “No!” Emma said, rushing past.

  A final look over her shoulder and she could see the waitress/maid drone just standing there, her slack jaw and empty eyes staring out at nothing. Emma shook her head and slammed the door behind her.

  Inside, she held an open hand out at Barrett, preempting an exclamatory squawk. A sunflower seed dropped from his beak as Emma set her sights on the back of the trailer and her bed. Five seconds later she collapsed face down on the mattress and prayed that sleep would take her quickly. She was just drifting off when she heard pounding.

  At first her beleaguered mind reasoned it was the hangover making her pay for her recent excursion. Without opening her eyes, she reached to the dresser where the Aspirin always was. It was still there, but her motor skills weren’t and she knocked the bottle to the floor. A brief thought of getting up and looking for it crossed her mind, but was quickly dismissed. Silence once again reigned in the trailer and she felt herself slipping away. And then there was more pounding, this louder than the first.

  Her eyes popped open, the thought that this might be something other than a hangover slowly introducing itself to her. She waited. The pounding sounded again, this time accompanied by words.

  “Hello? I need to talk to… Emma Spaulding, the paranormal detective? Please, it’s really important. Something bad has happened, and…” the voice said, trailing off.

  More pounding followed and it dawned on Emma that it was coming from the door. It made her mad and it made her drag herself out of bed.

  Emma flung the trailer door open just as the girl was reaching out to knock again. The suddenness of Emma’s appearance made the girl take a step back.

  “Are you that paranormal detective? Emma Spaulding?” the girl said.

  Emma glared down at her.

  “No, She died, terrible… accident. There were… uh… she died,” Emma said, her mind just too tired to even come up with anything remotely snarky.

  The girl looked to the side of the trailer and pointed.

  “But it says right there, Emma Spaulding, Paranormal Detective,” she said.

  Emma hung her head.

  “I’ve really gotta take that thing down,” she said.

  That was all the girl apparently needed by way of confirmation. She stepped forward and began pleading her case entirely too fast and loud for Emma’s taste, even when she was sober.

  “Please, you’ve got to help me! Something’s happening in Hemisphere and it’s all my fault,” the girl said.

  Emma raised her head. Her exasperation broadcasted by pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing heavily.

  “A little stuck on ourselves, aren’t we? This is Hemisphere, hello? Anything can happen and something always does. It’s kinda the unofficial town motto,” she said, leaning against the door frame and squeezing her eyes shut against the harsh sunlight.

  The girl was undeterred. She shifted from foot to foot and rubbed her palms down the front of her jeans.

  “No, I mean yes, but this is different. Worse. Way worse. I just bought this game, see, cause I was bored and couldn’t find my phone on account of my house being so messy and then I thought someone should clean this up, only I didn’t want to so when the game actually worked and the genie appeared she said she would only grant me one wish and I thought well that sucks I’ll just pick another genie but she was like well you can’t pick another until you put me back, only I couldn’t find the directions on how to do that and wished for a maid to clean up my place and Bam! There she was!” the girl said, out of breath.

  Emma just stared at the girl, feeling like she had been hit with a verbal tsunami that even without the hangover she knew would have been painful. Rather than pull the door closed behind her, like she knew she should, she asked a question she knew she would regret.

  “There who was?” Emma said.

  The girl sighed and glared at Emma like she was just stupid, gesturing with both her hands at the slack-jawed maid standing next to her.

  Emma looked at the maid and another chill ran down her spine, thoughts of similar figures serving her chicken and waffles still fresh in her mind.

  “So, a maid, right, got it. What’s wrong with having a maid, again?” Emma said, squinting at the girl and trying to grab hold of something she could understand in this conversation.

  The girl lurched forward, startling Emma with her excitement.

  “Right? I mean what could it matter anyway if everybody got what they wanted?” she said.

  She was just about to launch into another tirade when Emma held up her hand, stopping her.

  “Wait! What do you mean, everybody? Nevermind that. You said something about a genie,” Emma said.

  The girl stomped her foot and gave Emma a petulant look.

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! Aren’t you listening?” she said.

  “I’m trying not to,” Emma said, looking longingly over her shoulder into the trailer.

  “The game! Pick a genie or something. Only when I did that, I get this liar. Sure, I get a maid and she cleans the place, only now, I can’t move anything, or use anything. I can’t even eat for shit’s sake! I mean—”

  “You can’t eat anything? Why can’t you eat anything?” Emma said, curiosity getting the better of her and making her prolong the painful exchange.

  The girl crossed her arms and gave the maid a scornful look.

  “Everything in its place! Everything in its place! That’s all she ever says! Right before she grabs whatever it is that I picked up and puts it back. It’s why I’m completely soaking wet right now!” she said.

  Emma raised her head off the door frame and tried
to focus her eyesight on the girl. Sure enough, although she hadn’t noticed before, she saw it now. The girl was dripping wet from head to toe, her clothes soaked through.

  “Why are you wet?” Emma said.

  The girl threw her arms down by her sides, her hands balled up in fists.

  “Because this is the freakin’ maid from hell! Everything in its place! I tried to take a shower, but to do that I had to take off my clothes, right?! Well, Mrs. Clean over here wasn’t having it, and before I pick up the soap, she’s going all Psycho on my ass, only there ain’t no knife. Just her wrestling me to the ground putting my clothes back on me! In the shower! The whole time yelling at me, Everything in its—”

  “Okay! I got it, everything in its place, right,” Emma said, rubbing her temples.

  “Like I said, I can’t even eat. I grab something out of the fridge, she grabs it out of my hand before I can even get it to my mouth and back in the fridge it goes. I had to fight her off with one hand while jamming potato salad in my mouth with the other. The only good thing about that was she cleaned it off the walls and floor when I was done! You ever tried to shove potato salad in your mouth while fighting off a crazy demon maid from hell?” the girl said, staring at Emma.

  “Not today. Why didn’t you use a spoon?” Emma said, squeezing her eyes closed tight and leaning her head against the door jamb again.

  The girl shook her head.

  “I did. At first. Nearly chipped a tooth. I finally had to resort to eating at one of the Big Ed’s, serving chicken and waffles non-stop. Geeze, I am sick of chicken and waffles,” she said.

  Emma raised her head and looked at the girl.