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The whiskey sour burned Garrett's throat. He sat sipping it in The Brass Frog. He was waiting for Ramona, who he'd called after work. He wasn't entirely sure why he was pursuing anything with this girl. He knew it was a better idea for him to lie low in Elston. And besides, his relationship with Carrie had proven that he wasn't a particularly good boyfriend. He was possessive and angry and a regular fuck-up. But...it had been a long time since Carrie. Of course, this Ramona chick seemed pretty nuts. Still, she was the only girl since he'd come back to Elston who'd spoken to him, except the girl that had been killed. He figured it couldn't hurt. Ramona had been excited to hear from him and offered to meet him at the bar. The Brass Frog wasn't Garrett's idea of a really great place to hang out. Things never turned out well when he was there. But he agreed anyway, because it was kind of nice to have plans. Even if he was going to go talk to a chick who swore she'd seen ghosts.
He'd sort of hoped she'd be waiting for him when he arrived. But she wasn't there. And she didn't arrive while he was ordering his drink.
Alone, nursing a beer, Garrett began to think about his life. He felt like he was barely keeping his head above water. It took so much concentration just to keep breathing that he couldn't focus on much of anything else. Still, he felt acutely that he'd failed at life in general. That his current situation was less than desirable. That he was a loser, baby.
"So why don't you kill me?" he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?"
It was Ramona.
"Hi," said Garrett, startled.
Ramona was holding a half-empty beer. "I was in the back," she said, sitting down with him. "When did you get here?"
"Couple minutes ago," said Garrett.
"I've been here since like seven," said Ramona. "I think I'm a little drunk." She took a long swig of beer.
Great. Drunk crazy girl. This was Garrett's idea of a great evening, all right. On the other hand, that was about the only flavor of girl in Elston. If they weren't crazy and they didn't get drunk, the town didn't appeal to them. Garrett cocked his head and took Ramona in. Long brown hair, nice features--no makeup, of course. Girls in Elston didn't wear makeup. Hell, girls in college didn't wear makeup. Not that Garrett cared. She was still kind of pretty without makeup, so that was saying something. Ramona had nice tits. Garrett liked tits. He wouldn't say he was a breast man, exactly, but he definitely appreciated breasts. Ramona's weren't too big, but they were more than handful. How long had it been since he'd had a handful of breast? Geez, how long had it been he'd gotten laid?
"...so what do you think?" said Ramona.
Garrett quickly shifted his eyes to her face. "Um..." he said. "What?"
"Were you just staring at my tits?" said Ramona.
"No," said Garrett.
"Because I guess I don't really mind. It's kind of a compliment if they were so mesmerizing that you couldn't even concentrate on what I was saying. I mean, kind of. Not really, because it's really also pretty creepy, what with you being a supposed rapist and all and--goddamn it, I really am drunk." Ramona took another long swig of beer.
"I'm pretty sure that if you keep drinking like that you won't get any less drunk," said Garrett, wondering how the hell he hadn't gotten in big trouble for not having any idea what she'd just said.
Ramona nodded. "Yeah," she said. "You're right." She took another drink, downing the rest of the contents of the bottle. "I need another drink." She got up.
Garrett watched her head for the bar. This was a really bad idea. He should just leave, right now, but he knew he wasn't going to. As weird as this Ramona chick was, she was also...intriguing. He wanted to know more about her. And he had to admit, the fact she'd seen something weird involving the townies made him feel better. Sometimes, since he'd come back to Elston, he'd felt as if he were going crazy. The memories of the night before he left were vivid at times, at others blurry. But whatever it was he remembered, it was disturbing. And it meant that he either had mental problems or that something really fucked up was going on in Elston.
Ramona sat back down with a fresh drink. "Okay," she said. "Once more, and this time, try to pay attention. You saw Blair killed, but Blair isn't dead. I saw Angelica alive after she died. And today at work, while I was working on this brochure thing I have to do, I found this."
Ramona dug an old brochure out of her purse and slid it across the table to Garrett. He looked down at the brochure, which said "Elston College: Academic Excellence, Pastoral Setting" on the top. Underneath, there was a black and white picture of two girls wearing calf-length skirts making their way across the street, clutching books to their chests.
Garrett looked up at Ramona. "So?"
She tapped one of the girl's faces in the picture. "That's Dawn Trimbley."
Who? Garrett looked at her again. He did recognize her, now that he looked again. She was one of the girls who hung out in front of the coffee shop. One of Blair's friends. But he still didn't understand what was so important about the brochure.
"This brochure was made in 1953," said Ramona. "Dawn wasn't even alive then."
Garrett didn't understand where she was going with this. "So, you think it's her grandmother or something?"
"Look at her. That's Dawn. That's not a relative. That's her."
Garrett shrugged. "If you say so."
"Well, I think it's her."
"So?"
"So, don't you think that's weird?"
Garrett considered. On the face of it, it was pretty weird. But there were tons of rational ways to explain that away, like... He struggled to think of one. Garrett picked the brochure up off the table. Held it closer to his face. Studied it. "What do you think it means?"
"I don't know. Nothing probably," said Ramona. "You obviously don't think it's that weird, so, I guess...never mind."
Garrett shrugged. "I'm sure there's an explanation," he said.
Ramona nodded. "Yeah. Probably."
Garrett didn't know what to say back. He couldn't think of any explanations, even though he kept trying. It was probably just Dawn's grandmother or something. Ramona fidgeted across from him. She looked over her shoulder towards the back of the bar. Shit. If he didn't say something soon, she was probably going to leave. Did he want her to? After all, she was nuts. But...damn it. She seemed nice enough. She was talking to him. And Garrett hadn't talked to a girl in a really long time.
"Maybe they're clones," he said.
Ramona whipped her head back around. "What?"
"They're clones. They kill people and replace them with clones. But they found Angelica's body. Nobody was supposed to find the body. Angelica's clone was supposed to take her place. Like Blair's clone took hers after I saw her killed. And Dawn...they've been cloning Dawn since the fifties." Well. For a stupid theory, that sure worked. But it wasn't plausible. Or anything. Still, it kind of might make a good science fiction movie.
But Ramona wasn't shooting the idea down out of hand. She appeared to be considering it. "Clones?" She shook her head. Looked at her drink in a kind of embarrassed way. "I kind of thought maybe they were ghosts."
"Well, yeah, you said you saw Angelica's ghost," said Garrett.
"But you think they're clones."
Garrett thought that he wanted to talk to a pretty girl for once. But sure, fuck it. If this girl wanted to talk clones, he'd talk clones.
The door to The Holy Grind stood open, spilling chilly air onto the sidewalk. Even though it was springtime, The Grind had the air conditioner pumping. Ramona stood outside, trying to get the attention of Owen, who was behind the counter. She thought maybe she could just order from outside, and then she wouldn't have to step foot inside the frigid coffee shop. But Owen was oblivious, so Ramona took a deep breath and stepped inside. Immediately, goose bumps erupted all over her skin. Her nipples tightened.
Owen looked at her, but he didn't look at her nipples. Ramona thought briefly about the way Garrett had ogled her chest the night before. That had been kind of nice. It had been a while since a guy had found her even remotely attractive, and God knew she'd been carrying a torch for Mason so long it was pathetic. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of her bra--a pleasant sensation. She wondered if Garrett really were a rapist. She wondered what it would be like to be raped by Garrett.
Mmm. Yeah, when she thought about it like that, it probably wasn't rape was it? Because what it was like to be raped by anybody was really fucking awful. She knew that. God! She couldn't seriously be considering what it would be like to have sex with Garrett Hillard, could she? Because sex with Garrett was out of the question. Not even an idea. She couldn't even--
He had nice lips. Ramona was betting he was a pretty good kisser. She couldn't help but smile as she thought about it.
"Ramona?" said Owen. "You wanna order something?"
"Icy Chalice?" She was embarrassed. "Sorry."
"No problem," said Owen.
Ramona waited while Owen made her drink, and then after he gave it to her, she looked at him expectantly. When he didn't quote her a price, she headed back out into the warmth. Having friends who worked in the coffee shop sometimes translated into free drinks, which was definitely a perk. While she'd been getting a drink, Dawn and Cecelia had settled down at a table outside The Grind. Ramona didn't know what to do. Cecelia hated Ramona's guts. So she couldn't go sit with them. But she didn't want to sit at another table and be rude. They might think she was snubbing them. Ramona stood just outside the doorway of The Holy Grind, frozen like a deer in headlights.
Dawn motioned her over. "Come sit with us, Ramona," she said.
Ramona still hesitated, waiting for Cecelia to say something or make a face or stalk off. When Cecelia just smiled, Ramona edged her way to the table. She set down her Icy Chalice and sat down. "Hi," she said.
Dawn and Cecelia smiled at her.
Were they smiling clone smiles?
No. That was fucked up and ridiculous. Garrett Hillard was crazy, admiration for her bust notwithstanding. He might not be a crazy rapist, but he was definitely not playing with a full deck of cards. There was no way that the river hippies were clones. There was no way that Dawn and Cecelia were clones. Ramona wasn't even going to think about it anymore because it was that ridiculous. Ramona smiled back. She dug her pack of cigarettes out of her purse and took a cigarette out.
Dawn and Cecelia watched her light the cigarette. No one spoke.
"So," said Ramona. "How have you guys been?"
"Good," said Dawn.
"Good," said Cecelia.
Ramona nodded. There was a long, long pause. "Good," said Ramona. On second thought, maybe they were clones. They sure were acting weird. Maybe Ramona should just go. She could drink her Icy Chalice in her apartment, and it was just above them. She could see her open window from the street if she looked up. The tapestry she used as a curtain was fluttering in the breeze.
No. She wasn't going to let these girls chase her off. Dawn and Cecelia could be bitchy if they wanted to be, but there wasn't anything wrong with them. They were just girls. Not ghosts. Not clones. None of that shit meant anything except that Ramona might be losing some cards from her own deck. And Ramona would prove to herself once and for all that all of that crazy ghost/clone shit was in her head.
Ramona took the brochure from the admissions office out of her purse. She'd been carrying it around. "I found something weird," she said lightly. "You guys wanna see? It'll freak you out, Dawn."
Dawn and Cecelia exchanged a look. They didn't look amused, even though Ramona was grinning from ear to ear.
"Sure, okay," said Dawn.
Ramona spread the brochure out. "Look at that girl," she said.
Dawn gasped, her hand slapping over her open mouth and knocking over Ramona's Icy Chalice in the process. Ice and cold coffee exploded all over the table and over Cecelia's and Ramona's pants.
Every girl leapt to her feet.
"Dawn!" said Cecelia.
"I'm so sorry," said Dawn.
"It's okay," said Ramona.
"I'm so sorry," said Dawn.
"I'll go get some paper towels," said Ramona.
She ducked back into the ice world that was The Grind and emerged in a few moments with wads of paper towels trailing from her fists. Dawn went to her and took some. Together, they began sopping the coffee up from the table. Cecelia took a few paper towels and tried to dry her pants. It was a lost cause. They were hopelessly stained.
"I'll buy you another coffee," said Dawn.
"You don't have to," said Ramona.
"Don't argue," said Dawn. "I'll be right back." She disappeared into The Grind.
Ramona tossed the soiled paper towels in the trash can and then settled back down at the table. She also resumed smoking her cigarette, which she'd abandoned in the ashtray during all the confusion. Amazingly, it was still dry. But her brochure... "Hey," said Ramona. "Where'd that brochure go?"
"Umm..." Cecelia looked around herself on the ground. "Did you throw it out with the paper towels?"
"No," said Ramona. Come to think of it, it hadn't been on the table when she'd returned with the paper towels.
"I didn't even see it. What was it a picture of?"
Dawn emerged with two Icy Chalices in hand. "It looked so good, I thought I'd get my own," she explained. She gave one of the drinks to Ramona.
"Dawn saw the picture," Ramona said to Cecelia. Ramona had seen Dawn react to the picture, so there was no way Dawn could say--
"I didn't really. What was it?"
"You did," said Ramona. "That's what startled you and made you knock over the drink."
Dawn laughed. "No. I'm just clumsy, I guess. What was the picture?"
Yeah right. Something was going on here. Dawn and Cecelia had taken her picture because they knew it was proof that they were...whatever they were. And now--
"Yeah, what was the picture?" said Cecelia.
Ramona shrugged. "It was a girl from the fifties that looked exactly like Dawn."
"Really?" said Dawn, sounding excited. "Oh, I wanna see it. Where'd it go?"
"It disappeared," said Ramona.
"I think it got thrown away with the paper towels," said Cecelia.
Ramona glared at her. Fucking Cecelia. Cecelia hated Ramona.
Ramona had met Cecelia her freshman year of college. She'd been walking to the dining hall from her dorm room one spring morning. Sometimes, Ramona cut across the dorm lawn, because it was maybe half a minute faster. But that day, it had been such a nice day, she'd decided to go the long way, around the lawn on the sidewalk. Tall trees on one side flanked the sidewalk, and as Ramona had been walking, she'd noticed a girl up in one of the trees. She was sitting on one of the branches, wearing a t-shirt and a purple knee length skirt.
Ramona waved. Sights like that weren't especially odd. College kids did all kinds of strange things. They did even stranger things on this side of campus, because most of the art majors lived in these dorms, and everyone knew art majors were weird.
The girl waved back. "Hello," she called.
Ramona stopped underneath her. "Hi," she said. "You climbed a tree in a skirt. You rock!"
The girl in the tree, of course, was Cecelia, and after that, the girls weren't inseparable, but they did become close friends, coordinating their dining hall schedules and spending time together in the afternoons between classes. Cecelia was a sophomore and a biology major. She said she wasn't really good at science, but she liked it a lot, and that was why she'd decided to major in it. She wanted to learn as much as she could about it. It was her passion, but it was difficult for her, and she spent a lot of time studying.
After a few months, the dorm lottery for the following year came up. Ramona hated her current roommate, who was a ditzy sorority girl. Cecelia liked her roommate, but mostly because the girl was never in the dorm. She spent almost all her time with her boyfriend, who lived off campus. Still, with a little cajoling, Ramona was able to convince Cecelia that the two of them should room together the following year. So they went to the lottery together and wound up with a room in Ramona's old dorm on the smoking wing.
The following year, they moved into their room together. Set it up just the way they liked it, with bunks jutting from the wall, dividing the room. They set up one side as a "bedroom," with their dressers and clothes. The other side they made a "living room" with a beanbag chair and their TV. The first few months were great, just like the previous semester. The girls spent time talking. They drank together. Borrowed each other's clothes. Went to the dining hall together.
Then... Ramona didn't really know what happened. One of the things had to have been Ben. He was leaving town, and she ended up spending more time with him than usual, so Cecelia had probably been alone a lot. The two had never hung out with each other exclusively, but Ramona considered Cecelia her closest friend, and she assumed Cecelia felt the same way. So, with Ramona being at Ben's half of the time, Cecelia probably felt a little abandoned.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with that at all. Maybe it was just natural growth. People grew apart sometimes. A lot of the time, actually. Anyway, Cecelia started hanging out with the river hippies. Especially Dawn. Suddenly, Dawn and Cecelia were always together. The answering machine in Ramona's room was filled with messages for Cecelia from Dawn. Cecelia stopped going to the dining hall with Ramona. She wasn't in the dorm room much. Ramona almost never saw her anymore.
She tried not to be jealous. She didn't want to act like a first grader about the whole thing. But she couldn't quite help it. Dawn had stolen her best friend. At least, that was how she felt. She felt hurt and left behind. She felt very, very alone.
She and Cecelia both went home for winter break. Ramona came back. Cecelia did not. A few weeks went by, and then Cecelia came by to collect her stuff. She told Ramona she was dropping out of college.
Ramona was floored. She was what? That wasn't like Cecelia. Cecelia loved college. She loved biology. She was always telling Ramona about stuff she'd learned in class about certain plants they saw growing around campus. She loved it. But once Ramona thought about it, she realized that Cecelia had been pretty close-mouthed about all that stuff since she started hanging out with Dawn. Also, she didn't study much anymore, and Cecelia used to study a lot.
Cecelia explained to her that the work was just too hard. She had failed two classes and would have to make them up. She just wasn't really interested in school anymore. Ramona wanted to know what she was going to do for the future. Cecelia didn't know. She seemed totally unconcerned with that. She'd figure it out later, she said. So Cecelia moved in with Dawn and started working at a restaurant in town as a waitress, and sometimes Ramona saw her at the bar. But that had basically been the end of their friendship.
Cecelia had changed. Ramona guessed that she had changed too, but Cecelia's change had bothered her. It was like Cecelia was a completely different person. Gone was the girl who climbed trees in skirts. In her place was a party chick who worked just to make money to support her drinking. Ramona didn't know who Cecelia was anymore.
It was after all that that the thing with Tucker happened. One night a few weeks after she had the conversation with Mason in his car, Ramona had been taking a lot of ecstasy, and ecstasy lowered her inhibitions. Okay, hell, ecstasy erased her inhibitions, turned her into a maddened slave to physical pleasure. Tucker had just been there. He'd been on ecstasy too. Sure, she knew that Cecelia was into Tucker. Tucker knew it too, but he wasn't interested in Cecelia. It didn't matter though, because when she did what she did with Tucker, Cecelia hadn't been her friend anymore. At least that's how Ramona had felt about it.
And it had only been sex. It had been fucking amazingly awesome sex, sure, but that was mostly because of the ecstasy. At least, that's what Ramona thought, anyway. She'd never been able to work in a repeat performance with Tucker. Tucker had gotten back with his ex-girlfriend a week or two after she'd hooked up with him. They'd broken up again in a month or two, but by then the moment was over. She couldn't just call him out of the blue and say, "Hey Tucker, you wanna fuck?"
Ramona considered. Actually, that might have worked. Unfortunately, Tucker was entangled with someone new now. Damn. Maybe if he was ever single again... But no, because Ramona was going to move out of Elston. Really. She was. And she wouldn't be around when Tucker broke up with his most recent conquest. Really. Really, really. Maybe if she insisted it over and over to herself, she actually would be able to get the hell of Elston. Maybe.
Copyright (c) 2010 Valerie Chambers