My sister is dying. It’s a rare disorder that affects the brain and nervous system, and while she was pretty healthy-looking just six months ago, she now has blackouts and vomiting at least twice a week. Looks old and weak instead of the strong twenty-year old she was and should be. They tell her she likely won’t be able to walk anymore within the next year or two. After that, she’ll lose the ability to pick up objects or talk.
By the time she’s twenty-five, she’ll be in a nursing home, being fed through a tube because she can’t swallow. And then one day she’ll just forget how to breathe. If she’s lucky, she’d be gone before they realize it and are able to keep her traitor body alive. But as you can probably tell, my sister isn’t very lucky at all.
So I’ve promised her that, if and when the time comes, I’ll help her end it. The idea of that terrifies and sickens me, but I tell myself I can do it. Can do it for her, no matter what it costs me in the process. Still, I’d rather not have to test myself like that. And I’d rather not risk losing my sister at all.
That’s why tonight we’re breaking into an old woman’s house at the edge of town.
I was already looking into non-traditional remedies before Melissa asked me to help her end it if the time came she couldn’t go on. Her asking just made me more determined to find something to fix my sister, even if it went beyond what normal medicine could provide. In the past three months we’ve tried herbs, yoga, crystals, shamans and faith healers. Yet, as of last week, the doctors are saying the disease’s slow crawl up her spine and across her brain is speeding up, not slowing down.
The next day, Melissa surprised me with tickets to Japan next month. The trip must have eaten all of her savings, but I didn’t have the heart to protest when she told me about it. We’d always wanted to go, after all. And my sister knew her time was running out.
That’s when I got desperate.
Back three years ago, me and Melissa went to a grief counseling group therapy thing for awhile when our mom died. Just a bunch of sad, lonely people talking to each other, either unable or unwilling to share their pain with the people in their lives. She stopped going after a few weeks, but I went for over six months, and when we got Melissa’s diagnosis four months ago, I started going again. I didn’t tell my sister about it, and at first I wasn’t sure why I went. Most of the people were different than before, and the few I recognized probably just assumed I was still having trouble with losing Mom. It wasn’t until one night after we had been to the last of an exhaustive list of “non-traditional practitioners” that the dam broke and I started sobbing to strangers about how my sister was going to wither away and die and I was going to be left alone.
They did what they were supposed to do, of course. Listen without argument. Comfort without deeply caring, which let me be hurt without worrying about hurting them in turn. Walking to my car afterward, I felt drained and exhausted, but lighter too. As though that group of bruised, kind-hearted strangers had eaten my pain, at least for the moment…because I knew it wouldn’t last. But if I even got a couple of days of not driving myself crazy about it, it would
“Sorry for your troubles, Miss.”
I jumped slightly at the voice coming from the dark to my right. Turning to look, I saw an orange ember glow brightly in the shadow of the old church where we held the meetings. As it dimmed, a curl of grey smoke billowed out toward me.
“I’m sorry?”
The ember circled through the air briefly as part of some unseen gesture. “Your troubles. Your sister. Her on the road to dying and all of that.”
I felt a familiar weight settling back onto my chest. “Oh. Yeah. Well, thanks.” I turned to walk on to my car when he spoke again. His voice was older and rich with the hint of some accent I couldn’t place. I also couldn’t remember who he was in the group from the sound of it.
“I can help you with that, you know. If you’re looking for help, that is.”
I felt irritation and confusion at his words, but worse than that was the brightly-colored serpent of hope that was already curling around to constrict my heart. “Help? Help how?” A thought struck me. “Look, I’m not looking for drugs or something.”
The man stepped forward out of the shadows, a smile across his face. I still didn’t recognize him, but the meeting had over thirty people tonight and I wasn’t really looking at most of them that much. Besides, everything about him was very forgettable. Bland shirt and pants, average height, boring face. In fact, the only things at all interesting about him were his voice and the words he was saying.
“Oh no, I’m not a pusher. What I offer is a chance to help your sister. To not just help her. To cure her.”
My heart fluttered as I felt my fists clench at my sides. “What’re you talking about?”
He glanced in the direction of the church door that people will still drifting out of. “If we can talk more privately.”
I frowned at him. There was no way I was going anywhere alone with him, and whatever he was selling, I was sure it was a scam. Still, I couldn’t just throw away a chance, however slim, without hearing him out could I? And if we just walked over the few feet to my car, I could always yell for help if he tried anything. Nodding slightly, I turned and walked toward my car, and when I looked back, he was following.
When I reached the door, I held up my hand to stop him from getting closer. “That’s good. No offense, but I don’t know you.”
His grin widened and he nodded. “A reasonable request.” Glancing back in the direction of the other people, he went on in a lower voice. “There is a fungus. It is very rare, but when processed properly by someone with the proper knowledge, it has great restorative effects on diseases of the nervous system. I have that knowledge, and I believe I can help your sister if I have access to a fresh supply of the fungus.”
Despite myself, I took an angry step forward. “Look, I don’t know what kind of fucking con you’re trying to run here, but you’ll excuse me if I don’t bite. The doctors say what she’s got isn’t curable, and some dude in a parking lot supposedly knows some magic medicine he makes with a fungus? How much are you wanting me to p—”
He cut me off, his face hard and serious now. “Your sister has early-onset amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, doesn’t she? Also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease.”
I stared at him. “How do you know that? I didn’t say what was wrong with her in there.”
The man sniffed. “You didn’t, but you did allude to several of her current and projected symptoms. Based upon everything you said, ALS seems like the most likely candidate. And I know that because I’ve dedicated my life to knowing the diseases that plague us and learning the best ways to fight them. So I can offer help to those in need. Like you.”
My hand drifted up to my mouth as I stared at him. It wasn’t possible was it? Just because he knew what he was talking about…that just made him a better-prepared conman, prowling the group for gullible people made desperate by their pain.
A picture of Melissa, withered and dying and begging me for relief, sprang into my mind again.
“H-how much would it cost?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Money? Oh, nothing like that. I just need more of the fungus. And while it is very rare, I know for a fact that it exists less than an hour’s drive from here. I just need you to get me six ounces of it.”
“From where? Like the woods or something?”
The man smiled again. “Oh no. From a particular elderly woman’s home.”
“This is crazy.” Melissa looked at me over her face mask, her eyes wide and terrified. “We can’t do this.”
I had already heard all her arguments and complaints before, and sitting outside 44 Bayside Drive, my own fears and worries made it hard not to bite her head off when she brought it up again. “Look, you don’t have to go in. You shouldn’t go in. Let me do it alone.”
“No!” She hissed from behind her mask. “You’re not going in by yourself. And what if we get caught? If they lock me up, what does it matter? I’ll be d…”
“Shut up.”
“But I’m just say—”
I glared at her. “No, you shut the fuck up. You’re not going to die. And if someone catches us breaking into this old woman’s house, it’ll be because we spent so much time out here arguing about it. The guy says the fungus is growing in the living room on the floor. We just need to go in and get it. He said we won’t get any resistance, no cops getting called, no risk of anyone getting hurt.”
Melissa frowned at me. “Well yeah, I mean, of course not. You weren’t planning on hurting anyone were you?”
I looked away, back across the street. “No, I’m not. But I’m not leaving without what he’s asking for. I think he’s the real deal. The thing we’ve been looking for.”
“But why? Don’t you think if there was some miracle cure people would know about it? Wouldn’t he be a billionaire or something instead of hanging out in…in parking lots?” There was a silent accusation there—I’d had to tell her about sneaking back to grief counseling as part of telling her about the encounter outside, and she hadn’t said anything, but I’d seen it in her eyes. A sense of betrayal—not that I went back without telling her, but that I went back because of her.
Because I was already mourning her.
Shaking my head, I didn’t look back at her. Instead, my hand drifted to the piece of paper in my pocket. Stopping myself from touching it in front of her, I gripped the door latch instead. “I just…I believe him, okay? Now I’m going. Stay or go, it’s up to you.”
I could hear her puff out a frustrated breath as I got out and started walking across the street. The house was set off by itself and largely isolated, with only three others even visible further down the road. And in the five minutes we’d been sitting outside, I hadn’t seen a single car or person. None of that helped feeling exposed as I crossed the asphalt in the distant glow of a corner streetlight. And when I heard something coming up behind me, I started to panic until I recognized Melissa’s panting.
“Shit…slow down. I’m coming.”
I felt pain in my chest as I turned and looked back at her. “I’m sorry. Are you sure you’re okay? I really can do it on my own.” I expected her to be all ready to start arguing again, but she wasn’t even looking at me. She was staring down the street with a frown.
“That’s weird.”
I quirked an eyebrow at her as we walked, finally making it to the edge of the house’s lawn. I shooed her on to the shadows of the side of the house before asking her what she was talking about.
“Well, you said this address is 44 Bayside Drive, right?”
“Yeah. So? It says 44 on the house number on the porch. And this is Bayside Drive. So what’s the problem?”
Her brow was furrowed as she looked back out at the street and shook her head slowly. “I…I don’t know. It’s just, when we were driving in, the other numbers on this street were different. Like 385 or something. Nothing close to 44.”
I shrugged. “So? Sometimes street numbers are weird.”
She nodded, her eyes still troubled. “Yeah, but I saw the street sign too. That street sign right there. It said Bayside Drive.”
I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Yeah? That’s literally what I just said.”
Melissa glanced back at me and pointed. “No, you don’t get it. I looked at that sign when we were across the street in the car and it said Bayside Drive. Now it doesn’t. It says Renalt Street.”
My eyes followed her finger back to the green sign perched at the corner under the streetlight. Even at a distance I could see she was right. It was the same sign, the same side of the sign even, but it had changed at some point when we crossed over to the house. I felt a flutter of excited dread in my belly. This was a good thing, right? It just meant that we really had found a path to a miracle.
Looking back at her, I shook my head and lied. “I think I saw a different sign than that. Maybe you did too. We’re all freaked out and scared right now, and the sooner we get this done, the better.” She started to argue further, but then nodded.
“Okay. Let’s just get it over with.”
The front porch creaked loudly as we ascended the steps, and I half-expected a light to come on before we even made it to the door. But no light or noise or other signs of life. And when I reached out to the knob, it turned easily in my hand.
“Shit, sunglasses.”
I winced at the noise, but Melissa was right. We were wearing masks over our mouths and noses, but we had talked about putting on sunglasses to cover our upper face too. Grimacing, I pulled mine out of my jacket pocket and put them on as we slipped inside. Once the door was shut, I turned to Melissa, my voice low.
“You stay here and keep look out. The living room should be back and to the right.” I pulled a freezer bag and spoon from my jacket. “I’ll scrape up what we need from the floor there and then we’ll go.”
“Are you sure you don’t…”
“I’m sure. Just rest a minute and keep watch, okay?” Melissa nodded silently, though I could feel her worried gaze even through her glasses. “Be right back.”
The interior of the house was well-lit, and as I walked quietly up the hall, I was tense for any noise or other sign of life, but there was none. At least until I turned the corner into the living room and found the old woman growing out of the floor.
She lay face-up, her face and body only partially visible, as though she was bobbing on the surface of some horrific lake or pool of quicksand. Between the islands of her wrist and shoulder, her breast and knee, there were patches of rotting hardwood floor thick with long ropes of spiky black mold. It rose in dark towers and arcs across her legs before spiderwebbing into a thinner fan across her upper body.
I felt my gorge rise as I looked at her and forced myself to step forward into the room so Melissa didn’t see my reaction and head that way. What was this? Was she dead? She had to be. Maybe the fungus only grew on dead bodies? But why was her body like that? Had it really sunk down into…
No. I didn’t have time for this. I had to get what we came for and get out.
Thankful for my mask, I stepped closer and bent down, avoiding looking at her closely as I took the spoon and began to dig at the corruption growing around the woman. The mold had a spongey resistance that made my head swim, but I began to pry some loose after a few attempts. Raking a chunk into the bag, I went back for more. The stuff was surprisingly heavy. Half a bagful should be more than enough.
Standing up, I began sealing the bag, my thoughts already on getting out of the room and house as quickly as possible. My thumb pressed along the closing zipper as my eyes drifted over to the mantle across the room. There were knickknacks and pictures there—relics of this poor woman’s life. Whatever was going on here, whatever was wrong with this woman, this house, I didn’t want any part of it. Didn’t want to know about it at all. And yet I felt my eyes drawn along the mantle until I saw a picture I recognized.
“That…that’s Sumiyoshi Grand Shrine in Osaka.”
I jumped, stifling a yelp as I turned to find the source of the hoarse whisper at my feet. It was the woman, not dead after all, staring at me with eyes…eyes I recognized. It…it wasn’t possible.
She coughed. “We had a good day that day. A really…a real good day.”
I looked back to the mantle and stepped closer. The picture was of me and Melissa—the same picture the man had given me that night, that lay burning against my leg in my pocket—a picture that was proof of a miracle because it hadn’t happened yet. My gaze swept across the other pictures along the mantle. Some were of me, some of both me and Melissa and other people I didn’t recognize. In several we looked decades older, and I realized I didn’t recognize the other people because we haven’t met them yet.
“I…Ally, I need…your help.”
I turned back, my heart bursting with fear and joy all while being crushed by the terrible hope that I held in my hands. Of course I’d help her. Somehow, as insane and miraculous as it was, this was Melissa too. Falling to my knees, I began to nod emphatically.
“Yeah, oh God. Yeah. What do you need me to do? I…I need to get you a doctor or…”
“No.” Her voice was stronger now, but I could see in her face that the exertion was costing her in energy or pain. “No doctor can help. I just…I just need you to take me out of here. Pull…pull me free if you can. I think you’re the only one that can maybe.”
I froze, the man’s words ringing in my ears
as I held the photo in one trembling hand. In it, me and Melissa were both happy and smiling as we posed in front of what looked like a Japanese shrine.
“I assure you it isn’t a fake. I think you already know that though.”
I looked past him to the last of the group trickling out of the church. I was really here. This was really happening. I turned back to him, my jaw clenched.
“It’s impossible. We’ve never taken this photo. I’d remember it.”
He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re right, of course. You would remember it. You haven’t taken it.” The man chuckled softly. “But you will. The only question is if that will be the last good memory you have of your sister or if there are more to follow. I’m giving you a chance at a better answer than life has provided.”
I could barely breathe as I looked back at us in the picture. “So I just need to get that fungus from this lady’s house and bring it to you? And you’ll cure Melissa of this thing that’s killing her? We’ll have a long life together? Y-you swear?”
Taking a step closer, he reached out and touched my hand. His fingers were cold and oily, but I didn’t pull away. “I swear. I’ll cure her and you’ll have many good years together. As for your first question,” his grip tightened on my hand, “that’s also correct. There are only two real rules you need to be aware of. The first is take from the house what I request in the quantity I request it. Six ounces, remember.”
I looked back up at him, barely able to meet his gaze or hear his words over the pounding of my heart. “What’s the other rule?”
“You take nothing else from the house other than what I request. If you violate either rule, you’ll not receive my help and you’ll watch your sister die without
any way I can help you.”
“Ally…I can’t leave this place on my own. Whatever this place is, its feeding on me, and its always hungry. But I think I’m almost used up. I just don’t want to…”
“Did we have a good life?”
Melissa blinked in confusion for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah. Yes we did most of the time.”
I forced myself to breathe, to ask my next question. “Did w-we have a long time together? Have you been trapped here long?”
She closed her eyes, and despite the years and the strain weighing her down, I could still see the weight of realization, of resignation, as it settled its smothering weight upon her chest. “Just the last year or two I think. It’s…it’s eating me slow.” Melissa opened her eyes. “Before that, yeah, we had a long time.”
I nodded and started to stand up, eyes welling with tears. When I felt something tugging at the leg of my jeans, I looked down and saw it was the three free fingers of her right hand, desperately clawing for purchase on the denim, trying to keep me from walking away.
“Please…don’t let me die in here.”
Biting my lip, I stepped back, gingerly pulling myself free of her grasp. I only met her eyes for a moment more as I breathed “I’m sorry” and turned away. Wiping my face with the back of one hand, I walked out of the room and headed back to my Melissa.
“I was starting to freak out. I thought I heard voices in there.”
I shook my head as I stepped past her and opened the front door. “We’re the only two people here.”
She followed me out onto the porch. “Okay good. Did you get it? The stuff?”
Closing the door tightly behind us, I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak again yet.
“Well that’s good. I mean, if it works, at least.”
We were almost to the car when I felt something on my arm and I barely stopped myself from screaming before realizing it was Melissa. Her eyes were large and shining.
“Ally…just thank you. Whether this works or not, it means so much to me that you are trying. That you never give up on me.”
I suppressed a shudder and nodded. Behind her I could see the street sign. It said Bayside Drive again. “Sure, of course. I’d do anything to not lose you. You know that.”
She smiled. “I know. I just…are you okay? You seem a little weird.”
I started walking toward the car again and got in. “Nah, I’m fine. Just lost in thought I guess.”
Melissa waited until she was in the car and could see me before asking her next question. “Thinking about what?”
I forced a smile and managed to meet her gaze for a moment before looking away. My eyes were drawn back to the black shadow of the house across the street. “About you getting well. Us being happy again.” Putting the car into drive, I started down the street. When my hands began to tremble, I just gripped the wheel harder and kept driving.
“Cool. Well, hopefully it’ll work out like you think.”
I let out a small sound, a creaky noise somewhere between a short laugh and a low moan. “It will. You’ll…you’re going to be around for a long time. I promise.”
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