Chereads / Those Left Behind / Chapter 6 - Chapter Six

Chapter 6 - Chapter Six

A shiver crawled down her spine as Naomi made her way out to the parking lot. When had DJ snuck the token back into her bag? And why? None of this made any sense. She didn't see the woman either, so confronting her directly was out of the question. Ugh, why did this have to happen today of all days? Couldn't Naomi just mourn her family in peace like a normal funeral guest?

The sun hit her right in the eyes as she stepped outside of the dark funeral home into the sunny spring afternoon. A breeze blew the hair off her neck, and as Naomi stood listening to the wind whistle through the leaves of a nearby maple tree she suddenly realized that she wasn't sure how she was going to get to the cemetery for the burial. She'd lost sight of Henry and only sort of knew the other mourners. She supposed she could ask Lyla's grandmother, but after having turned down her request to talk at the burial Naomi couldn't help but feel awkward about it.

A hand suddenly dropped onto her shoulder making Naomi flinch. She whirled around, totally prepared to shove DJ back if necessary. Except that the person behind her wasn't DJ. Naomi stared for a moment, trying to process what she was seeing. "Dad?"

Her father offered her a sympathetic look, though confusion shone bright in his eyes and the breath that left his lips held no small amount of relief. Naomi was a little confused herself as she looked at her father's apparel. He was wearing a black dress shirt with a dark grey tie underneath a long black coat that looked much too heavy for the mild spring weather. On top of his head sat a large black bowler hat that she hadn't known he owned. As far as she could tell they were appropriate clothing options for a funeral, which threw her off considering she hadn't thought he'd be in attendance.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

Her father's brows furrowed. "I could ask you the same thing," he pointed out, crossing his arms. "How did you get here?"

Naomi took a step back and mirrored him, crossing her arms as well. "Henry brought me," she told him.

Clearly that was not enough of an explanation. Her dad only looked more confused by that proclamation. "Who the hell is Henry?" he demanded.

"The owner of Inside Scoop," Naomi answered. She rolled her eyes at the utter bewilderment on her father's face. "It's an ice cream shop. Lyla and her mom used to take me there all the time. Henry was helping Mrs. Murphy to start her own business."

"At any rate," her dad cleared his throat, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you riding around town with a stranger--"

"Henry isn't a stranger," Naomi snapped. "Not to me. I've known him about as long as I've known Lyla. And I wasn't 'riding around town' with him. He picked me up from the park and brought me straight over here."

"The park?" Her dad shook his head. "Nevermind. I guess just get in the car. We don't want to be late for the burial."

Naomi nodded, feeling both guilty for being cross with her dad and relieved that the conversation was over. They both trudged over to her father's hatchback in total silence. As strange as the day's events had been so far, Naomi was still surprised at her dad. This was the most involved he'd been in her life in the past nine years. Maybe passing out in a park was a better idea than she'd originally thought.

Except that she hadn't thought to grab any sunglasses before she left. She knew her dad didn't have any in his Honda. When he first bought the red hatchback he'd been careful to keep it pristine and only stored the necessities: the title and registration in the glove compartment, a spare tire and car jack in the trunk. Nowadays the old car was basically a mausoleum of broken CD cases and empty candy wrappers. Still no sunglasses though, Naomi found as she rifled through the trash. She leaned back against the fuzzy fabric seat with a sigh.

"I guess I should've cleaned this thing out," her dad mused, sounding sheepish. They were stopped at a red light so he risked a glance over at her. "Y'know, they call this thing an Insight but since I've owned it I've been wondering why they didn't call it a Hindsight."

He was trying, and Naomi felt bad that she couldn't laugh at his joke. The best she could muster up was an awkward twitch of her lips that she hoped her father recognized as an attempt at a smile. It was just so painful. Mrs. Murphy always had puns like that at the ready. It was weird to think that from now on she'd never hear another Heather Murphy original; she'd never see that sly smile that Lyla mimicked so well as she delivered the punchline. She knew dumb jokes like that were literally referred to as dad jokes, but in her life they'd always been Mrs. Murphy's domain. Hearing her dad deliver one now on the way to the Murphys burial felt like a sucker punch to her heart.

Of course, she could decide to believe DJ and give time travel a try. 'Right,' she thought with an eye roll. 'That psycho.' Her hand dropped to the figurine in her bag again. She still felt unsettled by that encounter, especially considering the women had, at some point while Naomi saying goodbye to the respective corpses of Lyla and Heather Murphy, come up beside her and slipped the token back to her without her knowledge. Just the thought of someone sneaking around a funeral home to mess with grieving family members left her disconcerted. That was without adding in the fact that the sneaky creep had claimed to be a time traveling demon.

Naomi shook her head as her dad pulled the car into the parking lot of the cemetery. This whole thing felt like a bad dream. She was only sixteen. Funerals and demons and time travel were supposed to only exist in stories for her. She wiped her sweating palms against her dress before pushing open the passenger door of her father's hatchback. She could see the funeral cab up at the front of the procession. About a dozen pallbearers were already opening up the back to get the caskets out. It was time. This was it; this was the last she'd see of Lyla and her mother. After today she'd have to move on with her life. First she'd have to find a way to make that possible.

"Hey," a soft voice called out to her.

Guilt immediately ate at her as she turned to face Eli. Before she could respond he stepped up and crushed her in a hug. Naomi melted in the embrace, burying her head in his neck. She felt his hand rubbing circles against her back as she let out a few shaky breaths, trying desperately not to cry again. After a moment she stepped back, trying to find the words to apologize to him. The entire week leading up to the funeral, Eli had tried to reach out to her to make sure she was okay and to tell her that she didn't have to go through everything alone. All Naomi had done in return was ignore him. He didn't deserve that.

"Eli," she began, "I'm so sorry, I--"

"It's okay," Eli interrupted. He placed a hand on her forearm and looked her in the eyes. "I know you've been struggling. You don't have to explain anything. I know you probably needed some space to process everything."

"I didn't have to freeze you out," Naomi argued, trying again to apologize.

"You seem to be warming up pretty well now," he pointed out, making Naomi shake her head. Eli had a quick wit, but not everything he said made perfect sense. Still, it was nice to have at that moment. With how weird the rest of the day had been Naomi needed a bit of normal.

Eli took a step back, giving Naomi some space. He stood at a daunting 5'1" which was a whole three inches shorter than Naomi was. She teased him about it a lot. His feathery black hair appeared to be straightened, the front ends of it dangling down over his deep blue eyes. A very faint spattering of freckles dotted the olive skin of his face. In lieu of the tragic events, he'd swapped out his usual patterned colored shirts and cargo pants for a tuxedo. The sight made a small smile creep onto Naomi's face.

"Your parents were cool with you wearing a tux?" she asked. Eli had talked with her at length about how his parents, while not totally unsupportive, were still not the most approving in regards to his transition. When it came to formal, public events they usually forced him into a dress and asked him to go by his deadname.

Eli shrugged. "I guess they realized today was about more than what people think of their parenting," he said. He cleared his throat. "I, uh, did decide to ditch the binder though."

"This might sound TERF-y, but I'm actually glad to hear that," Naomi confessed. When he gave her a confused look she hurriedly continued. "Don't think I haven't noticed that it's a little small on you. You need a new one, and you need to get it sized properly. I can lend you some money for it if that's an issue."

"You really don't need to do that," Eli quickly assured her. "Also, hey. I'm supposed to be taking care of you right now, not the other way around. I know today is awful. I'm here for you, however you need me to be to get through this."

Naomi managed a smile for him. She leaned her head against his shoulder with a small sigh and said, "Thank you, Eli." She hated that her voice came out so hushed, but she really appreciated Eli's efforts.

He stayed with her all through the burial. He steadied her when her legs felt weak at the sight of the caskets being lowered into their graves. He put a comforting arm around her as she cried during the eulogies, keeping to herself the fact that she was supposed to be up there as well, helping to keep Lyla and her mother alive through memories and stories. He kept his arm around her as he helped walk her back to her dad's car after the service had ended. They gave each other a wordless hug before she plopped herself down in the front passenger seat. Eli closed the door for her and waved his farewell before turning and walking alone back through the cemetery to go find his parents.

The silence stretched on as Naomi's dad drove them back home. It stayed with her as she unlocked the front door and made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. It was still there as she changed into her pajamas and laid down on her bed, ready for yet another sleepless night. It was shattered when someone in the corner of the room cleared their throat, effectively announcing their presence.

Fear gripped her heart as Naomi bolted upright in her bed. She desperately searched her dark room, trying to see who was there. She sucked in a shaky breath as she got up on trembling legs, reaching out a quaking hand to fumble with the lamp on her bedside table. The feeble light managed to expose the young woman in the corner standing underneath the window. At once, anger replaced fear as Naomi let out a huff.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Naomi demanded. "You know trespassing is a crime in California."

"Cute," DJ replied, crossing her arms across her chest.

Naomi was a bit taken aback by the woman's irritated tone. After all, it wasn't like Naomi was the one hiding in the shadows of DJ's bedroom. Part of her felt like she should call the cops, but then again police were rarely helpful to people like her. She could call for her dad but he didn't have the best track record either. Besides, even if DJ was clearly off her rocker she at least wasn't dangerous. Annoying, yes. Unwelcome, check. Dangerous, not so much. Naomi decided humoring her might be the best way out of this. "Why are you here?" she asked again, ditching her own resentful tone for a softer one.

DJ quirked a brow, keeping her arms crossed defensively. "I told you back at the funeral," she said. "I can help you. And I know you humans are a very skeptical species, but seriously this is getting old."

"Right." Naomi rolled her eyes. "How could I forget? You're a demon that fights Fate."

DJ narrowed her eyes at that. "Actually, you'll be the one fighting Fate," she spat.

She held out a hand, palm facing up. Smoke started to billow up out of nowhere. It almost appeared to be coming from her palm. DJ brought her other hand over, positioning it above the swirling shadows, and she moved it in a circular motion. Her eyes stayed locked on Naomi's as she spoke again.

"You'll have three tries," she told her. "If you do not succeed in those three tries, then nothing will have changed. You will return to this timeline as a complete failure and you'll live out your days knowing that you could have saved your family if you'd actually tried to help them. So my advice is to toss your suspicions aside and do something useful. I'll send you back all the way to the day that it happened. If you need me, just call out and I'll pop in and see what I can do to help out. For the most part though you're going to be on your own."

Naomi stared transfixed as the demon's eyes grew brighter and brighter, the amber heating up until they became balls of flame. She felt like she should run but her feet stayed frozen to the spot as the fire engulfed her. A blast of heat made her instantly sweat. The fire twisted fast around her, creating a twirling wall that made her head spin. She dropped to her knees, trying hard not to lose what meager food was in her stomach. Just when she couldn't take it anymore the feeling of vertigo vanished.

Afraid as she was to look, Naomi forced herself to crack open her eyes for a peek at her surroundings. She was a bit startled to find herself back in her bed. A quick glance around her room proved that she was alone. DJ was gone, the smoke was gone, the fire was gone. 'It was all a dream,' Naomi realized. 'A really weird one, too.'

A sudden harsh knock at her bedroom door made her flinch. She thought she'd have at least another week before her father returned to this routine. Well, hopefully whatever chores he had in mind for her would distract her from the dizzying spell left on her from her dreams. She tugged the blanket up to her chest and called, "Come in!" to the door.

The door flew open with dramatic enthusiasm as the knocker outside entered the room. Naomi froze, thinking that there was no way this was possible and yet the proof was right there in front of her. It was giving her a mock disapproving glare as it brushed wild red hair out of her emerald green eyes. It was standing there, a hand on her hip with a question on her lips. It was Lyla, alive and in her bedroom. For some reason she did not look pleased with Naomi.