Page 22 of Medium
Lorraine sighed and stroked her hand through Pia’s hair. Not that Pia could feel it.
Suddenly the car was full of ghosts.
“Fuck!” I jumped in my seat.
Grandfather chuckled. “That never gets old. Rory, this is Dimitra. She goes by Dimi.”
Dimi, who was squeezed in the back seat between Garfield and Mercy, looked to have been about Grandfather’s age when she’d passed. She was tiny, maybe five feet tall at most, with bright black eyes, a strong nose, and a round face. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun.
Dimi completed her inspection of Pia, then finally gave me her attention.
“Hi, I’m Rory.”
She made a show of looking me up and down before making a dismissivehmmphsound. Okay then.
Grandfather chuckled. “We lucked out. Dimi heard us asking around about Wonders and District Monitors. Her grandson is the current District Monitor for this area. She can take us to him.”
I blew out a breath. Thank fuck. “Fantastic. Thank you, Dimi.” I started the car then twisted around to look at her. “Which way should I go?”
She gave me a stink eye. “You think I don’t know my own grandson’s address? Especially when it was my house first?” Dimi’s accent sounded Greek, possibly? She waggled a pointer finger at my phone in the cupholder. “You put it in your phone so I don’t have to tell you where to turn like you’re a baby.”
My head started to pound. “Great idea.” I made a show of picking up my phone and unlocking it. “Okay. What’s the address?” She told me, and I typed it into the maps app. I connected the phone to the car, and our route was displayed on the dashboard.
I got the car turned around, and we were on our way. Dimi’s grandson—I could not make myself care about his name right then—lived in Houston’s Second Ward. It wasn’t a great neighborhood, so being a District Monitor must not pay very well.
It only took fifteen minutes to get to our destination, which was fortunate, since it was pushing past 2am.
The house was original to the neighborhood, probably less than 1500 square feet, with white wooden siding, and a covered front porch. The carport on one side contained an older sedan with a brand-new SUV right behind it. Someone in the house had money.
I parked at the curb. “Hey, Pia, I’ll come around and get you, then we’ll go meet the District Monitor and see if he can help us.”
“Of course he’ll help you,” Dimi sniffed. “He’s a lunkhead, but he’s a good person.”
I got out of the car, wondering if I’d have the energy to drive home after this. Maybe Dimi’s grandson would let me nap on his couch. Maybe he’d also offer us snacks, since I’d forgotten to stop at a drive-thru.
I went around to the rear passenger door, where Pia was attempting to become one with the plant. Didn’t dryads live inside trees or something? Hopefully the District Monitor would know.
I opened the door and considered my options. Pia was essentially sitting in the pot, with her arms and legs wrapped around the plant like a koala. Her face was tucked into one elbow. My jacket was still covering most of her.
“Okay, Pia, I’m going to try picking up the pot with you staying where you are. But if you feel off-balance, you grab onto me, okay?”
She didn’t look up, but she nodded.
I crouched down and got my hands around the cement pot. I couldn’t lift it straight up without slamming both of our heads into the roof of the car, so I tilted the pot toward me and backed up, dragging the pot and Pia out of the footwell. When I had the pot resting on the doorframe, I lifted the pot, Pia and all. Which made Pia’s right knee jab me in the stomach, so I shifted the pot around until we were both more comfortable. After shutting the car door with my butt, I headed up the walkway. Slowly.
Pia wasn’t at her full weight, but I’d carried her a good distance earlier. My gym routine didn’t include cradling heavy items in my arms, and I was straining with the combined weight of Pia, the pot, and plant.
“You should spend more time working out,” Dimi advised. She drifted along on my right, with Lorraine on my left. The other ghosts brought up the rear.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I wheezed. There were two steps up to the wooden porch. I dreaded them more and more the closer I got, but ultimately I had no choice. I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and went up one step at a time. I let out a big whoosh of air when I got to the porch, leaning over to better fill my lungs again.
I hobbled to the front door, which had a screen door covering it. There wasn’t a doorbell. Shit. I really didn’t want to put Pia down.
“Pia, could you reach the door handle for me, please?”
Without looking, she shook her head and squeezed herself tighter around the plant.
Got it.
