The coiling thorns around the tinted windows turned to weeds. My gothic castle shifted into an old, one-floor joint with a desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. The crunching gravel and stones changed into pavement and garbage bins, and the name Sherries’s in chipped-pale-red stood. I mirrored its tilted angle, hardly emitting presence. My nostrils flared. I sneezed, teary-eyed—a sort of musty, greasy smell penetrated, itching my nose. I tapped the card, and the woman started to shift back into a slumber.

“Hey, stay awake. I’ll need you later.” I persisted in poking her face.

She glowered and slumped into sleep. I heaved a long, heavy sigh, and sent her back into the safety of my pocket.

“I’ll deal with you later,” I whispered, checking for any sign of life.

Good, no one saw me. I approached by the looks of it a local dinner, a few solitary oldies were slumping and sipping coffee.

Ding!

The sound of the dinner’s front doorbell dinged. I rubbed the cold ridges of metal in my pant pocket. It started to get warm, warmer—melting me down. I couldn’t breathe. There. His cute dimples next to his kind smile, brown sort of scruffy curls bouncing with a distinct skip in his step, slightly tanned. Younger than I remembered him. What do I say? Should I go over there? Maybe I can order something, look at him a little. No. No. I shook my head and groaned. Walk away, there’s no time for this. Turn around, Gio. There we go, keep walking. I had to find the…. One more look. I exhaled a shuddering breath. My ship came ashore. I pressed on my throbbing chest, pulsing underneath my fingertips. The sails took. A waitress poured him a cup, leaned down. Focus. Gio, turn around. Focus…. His face flushed. He chuckled. Maybe, just one coffee. I took one last look behind me. My hands were already holding the doorknob. I closed my eyes. My lips trembled slightly, neck stiff. The hinges screeched, the bell dinged; my subtle steps were made of lead, the almost empty, sort of crowded dinner got quiet. My eyes focused on him.

I forget sometimes how life can take us into a pit, digging ourselves into an abyss we might never come out of. What would happen if someone reached out their hand and helped get us out of the pit? Could we breathe another day without them? Find another person to mend the wounds left behind by years we’ve had together, or would we want to be with them again? Wrap my arms around them. Kiss them till their lips turned rosy, and they needed air. Sometimes life can be quite unexpected in so many ways.

Life brought us together and tore us apart. I never expected—I hoped. It answered. Whatever matter of fate answered. I waited so long for you, Ray. Too long I spent nights thinking he would never return to my side. The days were dull, and the night grew colder. I breathed less, every year I passed without him. Ok, so long as he was here, alive: breathing, laughing, living. I settled down a booth away from him and eyed over the menu. He still nips his lip, sticks out a part of his tongue whenever he can’t decide. His amber eyes beam each time he finds something he likes. He fiddles his thumbs when he’s seriously worried about something. The hot metal in my pocket throbbed harder. He stopped twiddling his thumbs. His hand went down. He laid the box on top of the table. The black silk ribbon crinkled loose. His nervous smile softened as he nudged the lid off and read a note, most likely from the Caretaker. He huffed and shook his head. His soft smile still lingered next to his dimple. He took out an envelope with a nickel-waxed seal. When his fingers touched the last item, the throbbing inside my pocket burned faster. He grabbed it, brow-raising.

Tick!

The rusty gears clicked, turned, ticked alive. He drew a shushed gasp and dropped the pocket watch, thumping on the table. A momentary space between us, our gazes crossed, so precise—I wanted him to hear my voice, listen to the words coming out of my mouth… until the sound of a rumble got closer, my back grew rigid, and a billow of smoke came from outside the window. Ray stared too.

“Hello, what can I get you?” The Waitress asked.

“Get out,” I said, shoving her out of my way.

“Excuse me! Sir!” She yelled.

The few people in the dinner whispered, looking at me with scowls and pursed lips. Ray got startled and gave me a once-over. He held the pocket watch in a firm grip.

“Ray!” I called his name.

He jumped and leaned back, furrowing his brows. I saw the rumble coming from an old creaky bug heading towards us.

“Sorry.” I grabbed Ray by the wrist and pulled him out the door.

The rowdy locals tried stopping me from taking him, yelling, “Hey! Let the boy go!” Some cursed and pulled on my suit sleeve, I shoved them off.

“Marnie, call the police!” What appeared to be the cook yelled out to who happened to be the waitress’ name.

“Let me go! What is your—” Ray protested, pushing me away.

The old beetle crashed into the dinner. Pieces of shattered glass flew in chunks, toppled, and flipped onto the booths. The small-rowdy crowd shifted to screams, people were running for the closest cover; underneath the tables, behind the counter. I covered Ray with my body on the floor and whispered in his ear, everything will be fine, and to hold on. He grew stiff, shivered, and closed his eyes.

“We have to get up, Ray. Come on.” My lips brushed the side of his ear.

I held onto him as he shook and pushed me away. My nostril itched at the scent of copper and gas.

“No! I don’t know you!” His voice ringed in my ear, hard.

Ray since the day we met centuries ago, it was difficult to forget to remember. His head between my palms trembled over the wailing.

“Your uncle. The letter said he wanted you to go to Venice, right?” I asked, even though it wasn’t a question of facts—truth.

He grew very still, squinted up at my worried stricken face. I could tell he was fighting with himself over trusting me. Fine with me. I needed to get him out of here before… the screeching of a door slammed above the panicked waitress. Her muffled screams gurgled. The crunching of bones pricked us. The waitress a few feet from us became very quiet, only the sound of her ragged low breaths could be heard among the shuffled locals stifling their breaths and prayers. The air was heavy with the scent of the shadow. Ray had peeked over my shoulder and gasped.

“Mrs. Hatchet,” Ray called out to her.

“Ray. At the count of three, we are going to get up and run. I’ll need you to hold onto me. Don’t let go,” I said, my eyes caught into his.

He nodded, wrapped his arms behind my neck.

“One. Two….” Three.

My strong legs pulled us up. The shadow creature inside the old woman screeched and extended its claws at my back. I took a deep, booming inhale, swallowed it down, and ran out of the dinner. The doorbell dinged. A breaking glass sound came from behind us.

“Look out!” Ray yelled, his eyes sunken in fear.

“Reach into my pocket!” My voice gruffed, taken I sprinted faster.

The nipping chill of the shadow was on our heel. I spurt again, pushing faster, never looking back.

“Holy—” Ray yelped.

He gaped at the truck rolling down, knocking down a streetlight. I swerved, dodging the debris. The alarm of the truck caused a domino effect. Several parked vehicles on the sidewalk blared, their lights blinking nonstop.

“Take the card out. Call out Inanna, think of a place!” I yelled through the overwhelming noises.

“What?” Ray guffawed, in awe.

I pointed my chin to the pocket of my suit. The trees blurred past us. He squinted his eyes closed. The wind blew his hair everywhere, tussling the curls of his auburn head in greater tangles. I caught the scent of rain ready to drop down on us.

“This is insane! Woah!” He screamed in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Do it! Trust me, Ray. Please,” I pleaded.

He gazed into me—a reflection of what he saw in me in the past. Believe me now, and forever. Never stopping. My heart was yours, and will always be yours: my Ray, my love, my sunshine. His chilled fingers touched the inside of my suit pocket, swiftly taking out the card, and gazed at me once more.

“It’s ok.” I nodded.

He measured at the card, furrowing his brows, and yelled, “Inanna.” Our bodies glowed into the dew of the rain. I saw Mrs. Hatchet's clawed hands reflected in his amber eyes. Her claws struck down my back. I hissed, narrowing my piercing golden orbs over my shoulder. The last I heard was her screeching, furious when the light blinded her opal sockets.