Part II: Emily

I didn’t do it, it wasn’t me
Just below you will find the key
The truth of that night a mystery
Make a wish. One, two, three.

The steam from my mocha felt good against my chilled face, however it did little to ease the anxiety one feels after being touched by a dead girl. Calder was fairly quiet tonight. Often the main lobby was filled with kids playing guitar hero or ‘college kids first religious conversation.' I ran my hand over the upholstered cushion of the reading nook I sat in. It was an apricot color, a nice change from the GVSU blue plastered all over campus at any opportunity. The rough texture of the cushion and the lack of individuals inhabiting the lounge helped calm me down.

I stirred the cream heart the barista had drawn into the drink and recounted the events on the bridge. I had queried hundreds of agents and publications trying to get my novel, or a segment published. Surely, I was just sleep deprived. Especially with the signing still ahead of me. Nothing but simple delirium, crushing anxiety and insomnia. Besides, how many kids could I walk up to and ask if they had ever talked to the dead girl from the bridge before they took me out in a white jacket?

I curled into the corner of the reading nook and balanced my black and white spotted notebook in my lap. There was really just one question left echoing in my head.

‘What was her name?’ 

I relaxed my eyes and tried to picture her. Standing on the side of the bridge. Undressed and goose pimpled from the wind. Shouting against the darkness “How could I be so stupid!?” Then… what? Did she dive, slip or simply let the her burdens slump. Falling into the cushion of the icy water.

”AAAAHHH!” she shouted, but the outburst did not come from within my head. Rather a human wrecking ball, that was now face deep in my crotch. The momentum carried us both to the ground, and my eyes opened to the tangling flash of action. The two of us made a pretzel, knotted together by a peach scarf. Whoever it was, happened to be a tiny individual. Not appearing much taller than the high-top tables she must have stumbled over. I helped wind the scarf back around her neck. She appeared to be in a bit of a daze. “Are you ok?” I asked.

“No! I am mortified.” She blew bangs out of her face, as she clumsily up righted. She pulled her hair back and fixed it into, if not before, a now messy bun. She picked the caramel corn I had forgotten about from her knit sweater. “Emily, and if we could not tell anyone about this I would appreciate it.”

“You can keep that,” I gestured toward the popcorn. Emily giggled, throwing a few pieces in her mouth. Fuzz and all. Her skirt had twisted halfway around, and she was trying to smooth it out, hiding away the flannel pajama pants just underneath.

“Didn’t expect to run into anyone, did you?” I smirked coming off far cleverer than intending.

“Not literally, no.” She brushed a few fly-away hairs behind her ears, blushing. She was eying my notebook, sprawled open on the floor. “I didn’t know anyone used those things anymore,” a slight snark in her voice.

“Well, I suppose it is a good thing I didn’t have my laptop with me, it might not have survived as well.”

Emily’s hands sunk into her sweater and she shrunk back onto her heels. She looked around, casing my belongings and asked, “Are you a writer?”

Now it was my turn to blush. “So, Emily. What were you listening to?” pointing to the over ear headphones seated around her neck.

“Funeral. Do you know Arcade Fire?

I shook my head and Emily stood up in a way that appeared her whole body was gasping.

“You must!” Before I had a chance to protest she thrust the headphones upon me, and pressed them up against my ears. Her face filled my vision with a cute, excited smile. 

The song resumed where it left off: whimsical, melancholic, and foreboding. There was a big swell and the vocalist sounded atop a mountain, his voice being carried by a rain storm with a choir to back him up.

Emily held her stare, affixed to my face. Searching, desperately, for any expression. I bargained if I held still enough she might grow bored and die. Or, if the music did not at least move me she might, instead, explode. Then the janitor would task me with cleaning up the bits of Emily and caramel corn before I was allowed to go home. A slight nod, and a smile is what I could muster, removing the headphones. She sat, a dried sponge, waiting for the hydration of my experience.

”Yea, cool. Never heard anything like it. To be fair, I am not a big music guy, but I appreciate the way it is composed.”

A few seconds later, Emily had morphed into two distinct puddles now occupying her moccasins where a girl had been. At least this mess could be cleaned up with a mop, and did not require a crime scene cleaning service. 

“Yea, whatever,” she said, obviously disappointed. “I was about to go to Kleiner, and you are like the only one awake in this building. You game for some late night chicken?

I had not eaten much that day, and there was the debt of pulverized expectations to repay. We walked, side by side, now both with red faces, and extremities to match. Emily stood more than a head length below me, but her personality met me eye to eye. She dragged her feet against the cement as she gyrated around, jumping between small topics trying to find one that might land. 

The way she moved around her arms when speaking was so animated, wonderfully highlighted by cotton candy nails. This time of day, she was not wearing makeup, but she had a natural glow to her, despite the cold and wind. He hair was sandy brown and tangled. It suited her though. I hadn’t known her for more that a few moments, but energy was whipping off her, in a chaotic though charming manner. She was clearly very charismatic.

We were nearing the bridge, but this time it appeared occupied by a group of the living. 4-5 people appeared to be searching the bridge, and the woods below.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked, as we approached one of the group. Whatever they were looking for appeared to be not easily found. A few of the kids were pressed through the fence railing, while another shined his flashlight into the abyss below. As we got nearer the light flashed in our direction.

“Hey man, you are blinding me,” I said, raising my hand in front of my face. The light flicked off  and I continued “What are you guys looking for?”

Out of the young guy's back pocket came a pair of purple, lace panties. He waved them around as if we should know what that meant.

“What the fuck?” Emily’s words, straight from my head. She grabbed my arm, and started putting me between her and the panty waving maniac. “Wait… Did you guys get that email too? I thought it was just some kind of sick joke.” She grabbed my arm a bit tighter, but now poked her head out for the response.

“Yea. From ‘Kae,’ he said, quoting her name as he pronounced it.

“What are you guys talking about?” I asked. “Who is Kae?”

“You know, the girl that jumped off this bridge naked,” one of the other boys responded.

So she did have a name. I had ignored my laptop most of the day, putting off making that awful post and leaving immediately after.  “How did a dead girl send an email?” I felt stupid asking, but it seemed someone might state the obvious.

“Well it’s not her, duh. But, I mean, how could you not be curious? Someone sent that email and if there really is something to find out here, we want to see it.

“It’s just a stupid prank. I mean you found the underwear, right? Surely that is all it was,” I said dismissively.

“No, there is something else. Look over here.” The boy with the flashlight motioned us toward the bridge railing.

“Josh, get that light over here man. We are trying to make a rope to climb down.” The voice came from the far side of the bridge, near a collection of smaller trees. Before Josh took their order, he shone the light on the river, to reveal a metal tackle box sitting on the river bed. He then met the group with his light. Several of them had their sweatshirts off and were tying them together. One end secured to a tree trunk.

A few moments later, a curly haired kid with glasses was scooting his way into the ravine stabilizing himself with the makeshift rope.   After a few minutes of shouting, swearing and jokes, at the curly haired kid’s expense, he reached the bottom. He began poking around the edges of it, as if expecting something to jump out as he got near. He found a stick nearby to poke at it.

“Open it Tim,” Josh demanded.

“Man, what if there is like a body part in here or something. I don’t like this” Tim yelled back.

Josh repeated him in a silly voice and then threatened to leave him in the dark if he didn’t open the box.

Tim squatted down over the box, and began gingerly opening it. Inside was a slip of paper.
I didn’t do it, it wasn’t me
Just below you will find the key
The truth of that night a mystery
Make a wish. One, two, three.

As he finished reading the note Josh flicked off the flashlight, and one of the other kids started repeating the note in a ghostly voice. “Tim, she is coming for you. Better run Tim!” Josh taunted.

The breeze picked up slightly and Tim protested, yelling back for Josh to turn on the light. He refused and said he would only turn it back on once Tim reached in to grab whatever was in the bottom tray. Begrudgingly, Tim obliged, just enough moonlight peaking through the trees to see what he was doing.

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” Tim yelled followed by the sound of him frantically scurrying away and the box being kicked over. A few moments later, the splashing of water, and laughter coming from the brush. “Fuck off guys, turn on the light!”

Josh turned the light back on to reveal a soggy Tim sitting on his butt and hands. He panned the light back over to the box, whose contents were now spilled out near the river. Josh’s mouth dropped open and Tim yelled back.

”I told you it was going to be a fucking hand! What the fuck is that?” A beam of light illuminated the old and shriveled hand. It appeared to be mummified and much older than anything that might have belonged to Kae. 

Tim and Josh argued about getting the hand back in the box and getting it up to the bridge. The others berated, and joked at Tim’s expense as he pushed back on the idea of having to touch it again. Emily was squeezing my arm, this time to get my attention.

“That is a monkey paw,” she whispered. She bit the corner of her lip before whispering again “We need that, before they break it.

I had just met Emily, but it seemed, if it were evidence, that it would be better in our hands than Josh’s contingency of knuckleheads. Tim was fighting with the others to be pulled out while grasping and clambering at stumps and roots.

Josh had gotten bored of arguing, and seemingly had no intention of letting Tim out of the situation. He approached the other boys and waved them back from the ravine. As the group pulled back from the ridge, Tim continued to struggle to try and climb out. “Hey! Where are you going!?”

“This is boring, and I am hungry. We are going to get something to eat. Why don’t you ask Captain Obvious and his girlfriend to help you out.” One last crude look from Jason and they were swallowed by the night.

Tim had given up trying to get out for the moment, now muttering about his ‘friends’ under his breath. “What the hell is this thing?” he asked out loud.

“It’s a monkey paw,” Emily replied.

”A… what?” Tim said.

“They are supposed to be some kind of curse. Like a genie, but evil. It’s just a stupid joke, meant to scare us. I guess your friends were too stupid to be spooked by it.

“Well I am definitely not touching it now. Can you guys get me out of here please? It sucks down here.” Tim pleaded. We could see flashes of him as the moonlight danced through the swaying trees. He did genuinely appear shaken, and his words strained through chattering teeth.

Emily and I were able to get him out, securing ourselves on the ridge. Between the three of us, we were able to retrieve the cursed item, before reconvening to discuss what to do with it.

”Well, now what?” Tim asked.

”I don’t want to run into those dickheads at Kleiner,” Emily said, again, mirroring my sentiment. “We should take another look at that email. Maybe there is a clue about what we are meant to do with this thing.

Tim suggested we go to the police,  but Emily’s rationalization was quite fair. The chances that anyone believed a dead girl sent an email, and that this was little more than a prank were slim. If there was any truth to this, then the investigation was better left to us. Emily suggested we go back to her dorm, to analyze the message since my roommate was likely having ‘romantic time.’ and at Tim’s we were liable to run into the goof troupe.

The three of us set off, monkey paw in tow, to investigate the mysterious death of Kae.