The Calling

TWO

ELARA

I went back to the front door and tried to open it, only to find it locked. I jiggled the doorknob loudly, willing Penny to appear. She didn’t.

“Damn it,” I muttered, then remembered the key hidden beneath her cactus plant.

Walking to the edge of the porch to retrieve the plant, a glimpse of movement caught my eye in the shadow of the hallway. I quickly turned, hoping to see Penny, but there was nothing.

I had to move some wilted plants to reach the rather sad-looking cactus with browning edges. My heart jumped a little when I noticed two of the flowers were planted in the pots she and I had made together in a pottery class a few months back—right around the time things had started to change. It had only been a few days since I’d last seen Penny, but I knew she had been slipping away for months before that. Dexter had turned his gaze to her one day, and she was hooked as easily as all the others before her.

I refocused on lifting the cactus pot, trying not to lose my courage. I hated invading my friend’s space like this, but I needed to know she was okay. The key sat in the dish beneath the plant, gold and glittering in the evening sunset. I grabbed it and began unlocking the door.

The door swung open, and I stepped into the home that had become so familiar over the past two years. The creamy couches with worn cushions and soft pastel pillows, the smell of citrus and clean laundry, and a pile of romantic movies stacked against the wall—it all felt the same, yet strangely off.

“Penny?” I called into the house. It was eerily silent.

“Penelope Fiona Messner!” I shouted.

A door slammed shut somewhere down the hallway, and I walked quickly into the darkness. At the very end, I could see the bathroom dimly lit by the vanity mirror. Next to the bathroom was Penny’s bedroom, and the door was closed. I hurried down the hall and knocked calmly on the door.

“Penny? It’s Elara. I don’t mean to intrude, but I’m so worried about you. Can I come in?”

No answer.

“Please talk to me. I just want to help.” I pressed my forehead to the door, fighting back frustrated tears.

I wanted to scream at her for making me worry, to storm through the door and shake her. I thought of all the other girls at the office, their lost, longing stares following Dexter as he moved through the space, oblivious to the hollowed-out shells he left behind when he moved on to the next fling. I couldn’t leave my sweet Penny like that.

I turned the doorknob, and to my relief, it opened. The room was dark, the curtains pulled shut, hiding the pastel oranges and springtime flower patterns that normally brightened the space. Instead of her familiar perfume greeting me, the air was stale and musty. I flipped the light switch and jumped as I heard a hiss from the corner. I looked toward the sound and saw a frayed and withered version of the Penny I once knew. Her hair seemed dull, almost drained of its color, and her eyes held no life. She cowered in the corner, looking at me with fear.

I moved towards her. “Penny, sweetie, it’s me. What is going on?”

She crawled across the floor onto the bed and pulled the covers over her head. I heard her mumble something about the light as she shuffled beneath the blanket. I looked around the room and spotted a lamp on the dresser. I turned it on to the lowest setting and then found one of Penny’s silk scarves in the closet. I draped the scarf over the lamp to dim the light further, then turned off the main overhead light and sat on the edge of the bed to wait.

It felt like forever as I watched the lump under the covers, hoping for some sign that my friend was still in there.

“I turned the main light off, and I’ve dimmed the lamp. Will you come out?” I asked softly.

Her frail fingers crept over the comforter, and the top of her head peeked out to check the room. Slowly, she fully emerged from beneath the covers, retreating to the headboard while pulling two pillows in front of her as if to build a barrier. She kept her eyes fixed on me, and my heart ached at the distance between us.

“Talk to me, Penny,” I pleaded.

She hugged the pillow tighter and turned her head to the side, seeming to get lost in a faraway place. We stayed like that for a long time—my pleading gaze fixed on her as she wandered somewhere I couldn’t reach.

I decided to try one more time. “Penelope.”

Her head snapped back to me, and she glared. “Only he calls me Penelope.”

I stared at her in shock.

“He? Do you mean Dexter?” I asked.

“Yes. Dexter.” A small smile cracked the anger on her face, and she sighed his name in a breathy way.

“Penny, I thought you two broke up,” I said, confused. “You left work in such a hurry. You were so upset, and I haven’t heard from you at all.”

“Dexter and I fixed things. Everything is as it should be now. But it won’t be if you don’t leave.”

I stared at her. What was she talking about? I felt a surge of anger and hurt. We had spent so much time making fun of the girls who got involved with Dexter. We laughed about his cliché dark-badboy vibes and swore we would never be like the hollowed-out Barbies. We built ourselves a little world where it was just the two of us, and that was enough—wasn’t it?

“I don’t understand. Why can’t I be here? And when did you fix things with Dexter? He was with another woman today at the office!” I couldn’t help the frantic tone in my voice, and my anger was starting to show.

I was so confused about how all of this had happened. My mind was reeling. I didn’t even notice her hand moving until she had slapped me. The force turned my face, and I immediately cupped my cheek, staring at her through burning eyes.

“What the hell, Penelope?”

She was leaning forward now, her eyes dark and threatening.

“I told you that only Dexter gets to call me by that name. Don’t ever accuse him of cheating on me again. We are forever. Now leave.”

Her tone was cold and flat, and I felt a crushing loss well up in my chest, like I was choking.

“Penny, please. Why are you doing this?”

She seemed to flip a switch and became frantic right before my eyes.

Penny yanked me off the bed and shoved me toward the bedroom door, screaming, “GET OUT NOW! HE’S COMING!”

I stumbled backward into the hallway, and she kept pushing, frantic and terrified.

“Penny, who is coming? What are you afraid of? I can help!” I shouted, trying to get her to listen, but she kept shoving me down the hallway.

I lost my footing at the opening of the hallway and fell back onto the carpeted floor. I scrambled back, trying to get away from her, but my back hit the side of the couch. It was dark outside now, and the only light was the lamp in the living room.

I couldn’t get up or move away because she was fumbling over me, pinning me down, too riddled with fear to listen as she continued to bat at me and scream. I covered my head to protect myself.

Then suddenly, it stopped. I waited a moment before raising my head slightly. Penny was sitting on her knees in front of me, tears streaming down her face, despair consuming her blue eyes. But she wasn’t looking at me—she was looking past me at the front door. Her body started trembling, and when her eyes fell back on me, they were filled with rage. She whispered viciously,

“You have ruined everything.”