Page 108 of Call Off the Dark

“How could you not know that?”

“I don’t even know who Emily Dickinson is.” Agnes held up the manila envelope. “Listen, Helen—”

“You don’t know who Emily Dickinson is?” Helen sat back in her seat. In a strange way, that too made perfect sense. “Ah, so I created a friend for myself who’s very unlike me so I could educate her in things that I’m interested in. Emily Dickinson was a famous poet of the 1800s.”

Agnes placed the envelope on the table. “I didn’t do great in English class, but I don’t think they covered poetry anyway.”

“There are many things I could tell you about Emily Dickinson, but I think something worth sharing right now is that in her later years, she went into isolation, and supposedly she spoke to visitors through a closed door. She wouldn’t even see them face-to-face.”

“Okay.”

Helen stood up from the table. “I think you should go.”

“Helen, we haven’t even talked yet. Please, just sit,” Agnes pleaded. “Let’s just talk, okay?”

“I like you, Agnes.” Helen smiled at her. What a sweet friend she’d invented. “But I’m done with this.”

“Done with what?”

“This!” Helen opened her arms as if to indicate the whole world.

“I understand. I’m fed up with all kinds of shit too. But can you listen for a minute?”

“No, I can’t,” Helen said firmly. Her patience was fading.

“But you need to see this.” Agnes tapped the manila envelope resting on the table.

“Don’t,” Helen warned her. “I said I’m done.”

“Did something happen?” Wide-eyed, Agnes stared up at Helen. “Why are you suddenly like this? What happened since I was here last?”

“Please leave.”

Agnes stood then, but she didn’t move toward the door. Instead, she took a cautious step toward Helen and reached out as if to touch her arm, but Helen rocked back on her heels and slapped Agnes’s hand away.

“No, I want you to go!”

“If we could just talk—”

“We don’t need to talk. I’m tired of talking. I’m tired of all of this. Go away!”

Helen squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingers over them. She stayed like that for several long beats, and when she reopened her eyes, she found Agnes was still standing there, wearing a desperate expression.

Helen stared back at her, unblinking, and then she said, “Get. Out. Of. My. House.”

In a hesitant voice, Agnes said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll put this here for you to look at later.” She indicated the envelope on the table.

“Just go!” Helen shouted as she pressed her hands over her face.

“You really need to look at what’s in the envelope. Helen, did you hear me?”

“I heard you! Now go!”

“Are you sure? I’m worried about you. You’re freaking me out . . .”

“I don’t care! Just leave!” Helen dug her fists into her eyes. “Just go, go, go, go away . . . please.”

With her eyes still squeezed shut, Helen moved her hands to her ears. She didn’t want to see or hear anything more from her phantom friend, so she didn’t know that Agnes started to cry as she backed away toward the front door. Nor did she know that when Agnes reached it, she opened it but made no move to leave.