M Sellars - The End Of Desire

Friday, December 2

3:07 P.M.

St. Louis Cemetery #1

New Orleans, Louisiana

Obeying the blinking signals on the car leading me, I turned right onto Saint Louis Street, continued along the short jog, and then made a quick left and almost immediately pulled to the curb. I shifted my vehicle into park then took a moment to rub my eyes. I was awake, but I still felt like I could use more sack time, several days worth, in fact. That was the problem with sleep. Once you had gone without it for as long as I had, you played hell trying to get caught up. And, it seemed that the more you got, the more your body wanted. Not that I had managed to get all that much, but it had apparently been enough to give my body a taste of what it was like-which wasn’t working in my favor at the moment.

Last night I had tried to crash again after speaking to Felicity and then making a quick run to a drive-thru and tossing down a less than stellar burger. Unfortunately, my slumber was really no more restful than the afternoon nap that had preceded it. I couldn’t even blame the nocturnal activities of my neighbor for that fact either. No matter how hard I tried to program myself with pleasant thoughts, the repetitious nightmare wasn’t about to leave me alone. Without fail it interrupted each cycle before it was even fully started, effectively keeping me from getting any true rest. I don’t suppose I would have minded that so much if I had learned something useful in the process. However, I never actually remembered enough of the details to know if the repeating terror was important or just my subconscious desperately trying to rescue itself by casting out the sick memories.

It wasn’t until the sun was already peeking through the small window of my room that I managed to drift off for any extended period of time. As it turned out, that was only for a few hours before I was jarred awake by Doctor Rieth calling my cell phone. Given the fact that I probably would have slept right through our planned meeting, I suppose it had been for the best.

I finally stopped rubbing my eyes then reached over to the passenger seat and rooted around in my backpack. After a moment I pulled out a small, point-and-shoot digital camera. I stuffed it into my jacket pocket then shoved my hand back into the pack and retrieved a fresh bottle of aspirin I had picked up earlier this morning.

My headache was bearable for the moment, but the persistent dull ache had started ramping up a few minutes ago and had gradually increased the closer we got to our destination. Since I had a minute I figured it might be a good idea to see if I could head some of it off at the pass. I had just broken the seal on the bottle when Doctor Rieth knocked on the window.

She was in her mid-fifties and stood average height. In truth, she looked much like the photograph on her book jacket. Shoulder-length hair that occupied a hue somewhere between blonde and strawberry. Her features were pretty, but her expression seemed to change little. Except for a quick smile upon our initial face-to-face meeting a little earlier, she had worn a sober mask that spoke to her academic ties. Still, her eyes betrayed untold wisdom that I suspected was born of experience, both good and bad.

I quickly tossed a few of the aspirin into my mouth and swallowed them dry, causing a lump to rise in my throat. Then, I left the bottle in the console and climbed out of my vehicle.

“Headache?” Doctor Rieth asked across the top of the car.

“Yeah,” I answered with a nod, choking the pills the rest of the way down.

“How many aspirin did you take?” she pressed.

“Probably not enough,” I told her as I hooked around the front of the rental and joined her on the sidewalk.

She shook her head. “You know, that probably isn’t very good for you.”

“Yeah. It says that right on the bottle.”

“All right then,” she replied. “I’m not your mother.”

“Thank you for recognizing that fact, Doctor Rieth. Most of my friends don’t.”

“I thought we had agreed to dispense with formality?”

“You’re right,” I said with a nod. “Thank you, Velvet.”

“For what it is worth,” she continued. “I would suspect their concern is what makes them your friends.”

“Uh-huh. That’s the argument they use too.”

She gave me a nod then turned and started walking down the sidewalk. The high walls surrounding the cemetery were rife with signs of their advanced age. However, it was also obvious that great care had been taken to maintain them over the years, and they even appeared to be an eternal work in progress.

The entrance itself was a gaping mouth, and its teeth were iron gates that were now propped open. There was something altogether eerie about the invitation they presented. I wondered if it was just me, or if Velvet viewed it in the same way. If she did, her expression didn’t let on.

We covered the relatively short distance between our vehicles and the entryway in a matter of a half-minute, both silent as we walked. I made the turn as we reached the gate, starting through without really slowing down. However, before I managed to cross the threshold, the good doctor’s arm shot across my path, barring my way. I stumbled against my momentum then caught myself and took a step back.

“What?” I asked.

“What are you doing?” she asked in reply.

“Well… I thought I was going into the cemetery, but I guess I was wrong?”

She shook her head. “You need to give them an offering first.”

“Oh,” I replied, unsure of what else to say.

She gave her head another shake then asked, “Do you have any change with you?”

I shoved my hand in my pocket then dug around and extracted all of the loose coins I managed to find. Holding them in my palm, I used my index finger to spread them out and display them to her. “This enough?”

“It’s really not as much about the amount as the effort and respect,” she told me as she nodded at my hand then showed me the similar pile in her own. “Just let them know you have a gift for them and ask permission to enter.”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever done this before,” I offered, a hint of embarrassment in my voice.

“Have you gone into cemeteries before?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

She sighed. “Then I suspect you’ve offended a few ancestors.”

“Great.”

“Don’t worry about that now. You’ll all get over it,” she told me with a quick shake of her head. “Just do it right this time.”

“Anything special I’m supposed to say?”

“No, just speak from the heart. Tell them you’re bringing a gift and ask permission. It’s not hard. It’s like showing up at a dinner party with a bottle of wine and knocking on the door.”

“And then I just walk in?”

“You’ll know what to do,” she said and smiled for the second time since we’d officially met. “Believe me, if they don’t want you to come in, you’ll know it.”

“Okay,” I replied, unable to keep the apprehension out of my voice.

I stood next to her before the opening and tried to gather my thoughts. I had absolutely no idea what I should say, but after looking through at the closely arranged rows of tombs, I began to speak.

“Greetings…” I said then hesitated.

I glanced over at Velvet in search of reassurance but found little, as her eyes were closed and her lips were moving in a silent greeting to the spirits.

I turned back to the opening and started again, speaking softly but still aloud, though I’m not sure why. “Greetings. My name is Rowan, and I’ve come to visit you…for…well, for some very important reasons. I’ve brought you this token…”

I wasn’t sure quite what else to do at this point, so I held out my hand to display the coinage.