The Seven
an excerpt

Autumn stepped into the back entrance of Johnny’s, noting that it was cooler in the restaurant than it was outside. She had spent so much time in the place that it was almost like a second home. Just seeing it took some of the tension from her shoulders. But like her apartment, Autumn realized that there were some evident changes in the way that Johnny’s looked. She tried to ignore it, and the nausea, as she made her way to the kitchen.

“Janet?”

It would feel so good to be comforted by Janet, to hear that southern drawl and to know that everything was going to be okay. Autumn wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her pants, looking around the dark restaurant’s kitchen that was, strangely, completely empty. Where is everyone? She started off to check the front when she heard a rhythmic twang seeping from a closed door to her left. It was coming from Janet’s office.

Autumn’s smile was wide as she rushed towards the door, pushing it open and expecting to see the redhead who owned the restaurant.

“Can I help you young lady?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m looking for Janet Rhett. Have you seen her?”
“You’re looking at her.”

Autumn’s hand was still on the doorknob as she stared down the old woman who sat at Janet’s desk. She had to be at least seventy, her orange-gray hair pulled up in a bun that was accented by a blue jay clip. It was Janet’s clip.

The old woman’s watery blue eyes lifted from the desk, setting their sights on the girl who stood in the doorway. Her hair was wavy, so alive in color as it spilled down her shoulders and back. She was wearing some sort of strange get-up; a pale blue shirt with a pocket over the breast that matched her perfectly ironed pants. Janet Rhett pursed her lips, closing her record book as she sized up the stranger who was interested in seeing her.

“If you want an application, I’m not hiring.”

But the girl remained silent. Janet raised a barely visible gray eyebrow, squinting through her prescription glasses as the girl’s haunted face peered back at her. Autumn’s green eyes were wide with horror, her lips partly agape as she struggled for the words that would never come.

Those eyes…they look so familiar. Janet cleared her throat, the rattling a distinct reminder of her many stints with cigarettes. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.” Autumn’s face was still gray, fear outlining each feature as her sweaty hand slipped from the doorknob. The abrupt movement knocked her out of her trance, but only barely.

“It’s me, Janet… It’s Autumn.”

The old woman scratched at her head, almost apologetically as she eased back into her chair. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that. I’m an old bird.”

“Autumn Boitumelo.”

Now it was Janet’s turn to blanch. She had always been a tan woman, but her skin was unmistakably white as she raised a shaky hand to cover her mouth. For a moment the two simply stared at each other, one near tears while the other couldn’t even fathom what was going on. Janet lowered her hand slowly, her tears spilling as she stared. It really was Autumn.

“You haven’t changed a bit…”

Seeing Janet’s tears only gave Autumn’s a reason to fall, and they did instantaneously, staining her sunburned cheeks. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the woman’s stunned tone, and shook her head slowly to convey it. “Wh-what do you mean I haven’t changed?”

Disturbed blue eyes stared back, a wave of dread washing over Janet’s irises as she whispered, “No one has seen you for thirty years.”