We Are Providence

Short story time, this is one I started a while ago that ended up being very autobiographical. Write what you know as they say.

We Are Providence:

I’ll start this with a quote: “Life is indeed comic, and the joke is on me.” Who said that quote? I did, Scott Attwell.

After a series of family tragedies, career upheavals, a string of religious and spiritual dead ends, and a house burning down, I moved to Providence Rhode Island, that quaint little city where the old world meets the new, and the only thing more twisted than the cobblestone streets are the secrets lurking beneath them. The only constant up to that point was the relationship to my love of a decade, my dearest Erika. Now, though, I can hardly imagine our future together after… well, let me go back a little…

“Scott, my man, what do you think about living in Providence?” Abeo asked me with a smile as we sat in Jaques Café, a quaint little coffee shop downcity along the Providence River. Abeo was a coworker at one of my aforementioned career upheavals who I reached out to as a resident of this bite sized state.

I looked out the window at the view of the city overlooking the Providence River just before it flowed on its way towards the harbor. A wind gently rippled the surface of the water at the bases of the many iron braziers that lined the center of the river. “I like it so far” I replied after a sip of coffee. “Still soaking it in, it seems pretty cool. The history, from what I know, is very interesting, and it looks like there’s a lot to do. It may take a bit to get settled with so much going on.” I continued to look out at the view of all the old buildings, with a blend of more modern like a spattering of Architectural history. Many had murals painted on them that were works of art deserved of museums. “I will say though that there is a… an odd vibe going on here.”

“Odd, yes” Abeo responded with a chuckle, “quite peculiar I suppose. There are a lot of creatives, artists, and misfits here, I’m sure you, my friend Scott, you’ll fit right in.” His demeanor shifted a bit as he placed his coffee cup down. “I, on the other hand, am moving away.”

“Why,” I asked, “you grew up here didn’t you?”

“Most of my life in Rhode Island, though not in Providence.” Abeo looked out the window, seeming to not focus on anything, “It’s time. It’s small, maybe too small. Everyone is all up in your business all the time, everyone knows what everyone else is up to.”

We were silent for a moment. Looking out the window to the city outside a peculiar fellow caught my eye. He was a fairly large man in an ill-fitting brown business suit with a briefcase that swung wildly with his gait. A gait that was awkward, more of a shamble than a walk, with one leg dragging slightly. He was completely clean shaven with little round sunglasses that were a little too small on his puffy, sweat sheened face. There must have been a trick of the sun, I thought, because at one point it seemed that the dark lenses of his sunglasses darted a look towards me like they were eyes of their own, like there were enormous black eyes that shifted behind glass that itself was not tinted but clear. I hurriedly looked away and made a point to not look back up as he determinedly lumbered by. “Well, we’ll see if this city can crack my reclusiveness,” I said as I tried to break the discomfort. “Hell, I’m in the best relationship of my life and my girl lives 2 states away.”

“Hahaha, yes, absence makes the heart grow fonder, eh? Maybe that’s the secret to a lasting relationship.” Abeo and I clinked coffee mugs and finished our late breakfast/ early lunch. The rest of our conversation was just about our plans for the near future, and we wished each other luck in our goals as we paid for our checks and parted.

It was a beautiful May Sunday, so I decided to take a walk around the city to acclimate myself to the sights. Erika would be up for a visit on Friday, so that gave me the rest of the week to get the apartment in order. I walked through the war memorials in Memorial Park along South Main Street, then back across the river to walk up and down the streets from Weybosset to Washington, admiring all the distinct old architecture preserved in this small city. It was refreshing to see a distinct lack of franchise storefronts aside from the various national banks and the obligatory Dunkins and Starbucks. There were a lot of unique storefronts that included new and used books stores, craft stores, an actual shoe repairman next to a little oddity called the Innsmouth Arts and Sciences, as well as a bevy of little restaurants and bars that I knew I’d have to frequent if money allowed.

After walking through Kennedy Square past the iconic Industrial Trust “Superman” building, I wandered into Burnside Park and walked amidst the families that were also enjoying the weather. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I looked to see that it was Erika returning my call from the previous night. It’s generally a 50/50 shot if she’ll answer her phone when I call. I decided to have a seat on a vacant bench by the Carrie Brown Memorial Fountain and swiped to answer. “Hello.”

“Hey Scott, are you out?”

“Hey Love, just wandering the town, seeing what there is to see.”

“Nice, looking forward to seeing your new place.”

“Yeah, it will still be a mess by the time you get up here, but I have a spare room I’m just going to cram stuff in to make it look like the rest of the place is tidy…ish.”

“No worries, is there anything you need me to bring?”

“Just you. And my birthday presents. I want presents and you…here.”

“Of course, babe. It, uh, I should totally be finished with it before Friday. I think.” Erika took a brief pause, “I found a lot more than I thought I would on one side of your family and a lot less on another.”

“Hmmm, sounds mysterious. Is it something like that 23andme test you gave me for Christmas, that just turned out kinda weird?”

“Nope, I said too much, you’ll have to wait and see.”

We spent a little more time chatting about our plans for the next weekend and realized that I didn’t really have a plan. I let her know that I saw a lot of cool places to check out and I’d look online to see if there was anything particular going on. It was time to head back to the new place and continue to pull all the rest of my extraneous material possessions out of boxes.

On the way through the rest of the park I noticed a young homeless man with patchy hair asking for handouts along the path. As he approached each person, he humbly asked for spare change with his head and eyes low, only looking up to tag his next quarry. When our paths were about to cross however, he looked me in the eyes as if there were recognition and smoothly stood up straight with his arms spread. “MY DUUUUUDE!!!” he exclaimed with a smile and passed by like we were old friends. I kept walking and looked over my shoulder to see him continue to walk backwards away from me. He continued to look at me with a wide smile, seemingly too wide. His teeth were long and grey but seemingly without rot and his chaotic gaze blazed with eyes whose iris was as dark as his pupils. Nearly stumbling into a local, I regained my focus and hurried my step home.

The next few days were spent mostly at home as I settled in. As I looked online for things to do for Erika’s visit, I ate from local takeouts trying to find the best Thai, Chinese, and Pizza. I made reservations at Hemenway’s and Providence Oyster Bar for local seafood and an intriguing place called the Red Door that is able to make everything gluten free on request for Erika’s fragile gut flora. I tagged a couple of bars like The Eddy and Royal Bobcat as well to hit the seemingly vast cocktail scene.

In my search for events, I found that the coming weekend would be the first of several events held throughout the year called Waterfire. On special weekends the city lights hundreds of braziers on fire down the center of Providence’s three rivers when the tides are right. It seemed like the thing to do so my job was done, a great weekend was in sight. Maybe, I thought, I could finally take a breath and enjoy life again.

Erika arrived on Friday afternoon with a small, wrapped box and way more luggage than one weekend away would dictate. After lugging her suitcases up the narrow stairs of the 19th century house to my floor, I mixed up a quick drink to settle her nerves from having to drive through Connecticut, then we settled in the living room where my makeshift home bar was coming together nicely.

“Here,” Erika said as she handed me the wrapped box. “Just put the last touches in this morning.” Underneath the black wrapping paper was a wooden box that held a series of old-looking photographs and a binder. The binder contained a genealogy of my family lines with my father’s line traced back to 14th century Britain. The pictures corelated with my ancestors in his line, some as old as the mid 1800s. It was an amazingly deep dive into my family’s history that I could have spent hours poring over at that very moment were it not for our plans for the evening.

“I really couldn’t find a lot on your mother’s side.” Erika said a little apologetically, “It’s much easier to find information if you’re German or British but you said your mom’s side was from Eastern Europe and no matter what, I couldn’t find anything with your mother’s surname,‘Zotykiv’, until records of your Great Grandfather arrived at Ellis Island in,” she took the binder she made for me and flipped a few pages, “1928, then he settled in Constable Hook NJ”.

“Yeah,” I replied, “mom said he may have fled Stalin’s slaughter of the Ukrainians and that they probably spelled his name wrong on the paperwork at immigration.”

“I have one more lead to follow but I’m waiting for some info, I’ll update everything, maybe by Christmas? Maybe the 23andme has updated with more results that may help.”

“I’ll have to reinstall the app and remember my password but, remember, I must’ve messed up the test since it came back inconclusive. The FAQ said it could have been because I didn’t swab well enough or something?”

“Yeah, do that, I know the databases update all the time.” As I shrugged and found the app on my phone and hit ‘install’ she continued, “OH, and there’s an extra special present that I got my hands on if you’re up for it. Kind of a surprise. No pressure, but I think it would be fun.” Erika rummaged through one of her bags for a moment and pulled out a Ziplock baggie. Holding the baggie full of little oddly shaped chocolate cubes up next to her big smile, “Shrooms!?”.

A short while later, after staving off the initial nausea after eating the magic mushroom chocolates, we started to walk into the city. I could feel my legs getting lighter as if I was floating and my head became a mix of hyper clarity and euphoria. Erika seemed enthralled by the city as it filtered through the psylocibin.

The atmosphere downcity was festive, it was a beautiful spring day, and everyone was out for Cinco de Mayo. The shops all had their wares out for sale on the sidewalk and the crowd was full of brightly clothed on-goers. Bands were playing on just about every corner and the smell of a variety of foods wafted through the air. I was easily caught up in all of the commotion until Erika grabbed my arm tightly.

I turned to look as she was just staring around with wide, unblinking eyes, my arm in her clutching hands. “Hey, you o.k.?” I asked, guiding her to the steps of the Beneficent Congregational Church to sit down.

With large pupils, she slowly looked at me and responded with a very loud whisper, “I think I underestimated the strength of these edibles, how are you feeling?”

“Great body high, you?”

“Overstimulated, I think I’d like to be away from all of this for a bit, just a bit.” She looked up at the church doors behind us, slowly whispering so the church didn’t hear her, “This church is breathing on me”.

Luckily, I knew just the spot to get away from everyone in the heart of Providence. In a very short time, we were sitting against the ancient tree in the cemetery of Saint John’s Cathedral, its branches reaching over us, around us, shading us and protecting us like an old grandmother’s soul while we coasted through the high. We sat in silence as i just enjoyed being with her, our peace only being disturbed by an occasional text to her phone that she read silently to herself.

As the sun began to set, the city started to transform into a different beast. The festive atmosphere gave way to a more eerie and mysterious vibe. Erika and I, still feeling the effects of the magic mushrooms, made our way to Waterfire. The lit braziers along the rivers created a mesmerizing dance of firelight and shadow, casting an otherworldly glow over the water. Erika and I decided to take a stroll along the river, drawn by the enchanting sights and sounds, enhanced by the fading effects of the Psilocybin.

As we walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching us from the depths of the river. The reflections of the fires danced on the water’s surface, creating a hypnotic effect that made it hard to focus. Suddenly, I saw a fleshy shape moving beneath the surface, and my heart raced. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but when I looked again, I didn’t see anything.

“Erika,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crackling of the braziers. “Did you see that?”

Erika followed my gaze, her pupils still dilated from the mushrooms. “See what, babe?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, my mind racing with possibilities. “But I think it might have been a manatee or something.”

She replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. “You bragged about not getting any visuals from the shrooms, and now you’re seeing things?”

“Hahah, yeah, I guess I’m tripping after all”.

Erika’s eyes looked down from mine, breaking contact as her smile faded. She turned her head, and those eyes caught the Dell’s cart selling refreshing frozen lemonade. “Oh, I’m going to get a Dell’s, I’ll get you one too, birthday boy”

As she trotted over to get our Dell’s I casually looked back down at the water to watch the fire. I locked eyes with something staring back at me, just a pair of deep black orbs breaking the surface of the water. My spine froze as it looked straight into my soul, whatever was behind those shiny black eyes, it knew me. I couldn’t breathe, I was paralyzed with fear until a cup of yellow frozen lemonade entered the whole of my vision and blocked my view of whatever enthralled me from the water. “I got myself watermelon and you regular lemon… you OK?”

“Yeah” I shook myself out of it, “Guess I’m getting waves from the shrooms still” I took the cup of frozen delight and dared a glance back to the water, seeing nothing looking back at me. We started to walk the length of the fiery river again as we partook of each other’s frozen delights. As we continued to walk by the river, the crowd of people at Waterfire pressed in around us, the eerie music and the flickering lights creating a disorienting atmosphere. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, of something ancient and malevolent lurking just beneath the surface of the water. I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease. The city, once vibrant and full of life, now seemed to hold secrets that were better left undisturbed, but that I couldn’t stop thinking about. “Erika, do you ever think about the soul of Providence? About what makes this city tick?”

Erika looked at me, her expression thoughtful with a tinge of something else I couldn’t place. “What do you mean?”

I gestured to the old buildings, the murals, and the braziers. “Look at all this history, all this culture. Providence was built on fire and water, this whole area was a trading port as ships traveled up the waterways, the rivers being the lifeblood of the city. The Gaspee was lit on fire just out in the bay there in a rebellious protest against the British well before the Boston Tea Party, a vital act of revolution to gain independence… it’s all connected. What if this city has a spirit, a consciousness of its own?”

Erika’s eyes widened, and she nodded slowly. “You know, ancient cultures often had regional deities, spirits that were tied to the land and the people. In reality most pagan cultures didn’t generally have the pantheons of gods like the Romans that we thought they did. Every area had their own, local gods and some of those gods traveled with the people, some of them didn’t ”

I finish slurping up the last of my Dell’s as I reflect, “What does that mean for a modern city, clearly we as a society haven’t been truly pagan for centuries despite some reconstructionist and, well, Wiccans.”

Erika turned to me, her expression serious and the mood shifted abruptly “Scott, there’s something I need to show you. It’s the rest of your birthday present.”, She lead me away from Waterfire towards the bay and I followed, concern building a knot in my gut. “I got some texts when we were at the cathedral… I didn’t expect… so soon” The air grew colder, and the city lights cast long, ominous shadows. The tension in the air was palpable as we walked silently. She wouldn’t look up at me.

I noticed a cluster of vagrants covered in blankets by the pedestrian bridge as we approached, their figures huddled and still. Erika stopped just before them took both of my hands. Behind her, the cluster started to stir. Tears started to drop from her face as she asked, “You should check your 23AndMe, I reset your password to your name, all lowercase.”

Confused, I lifted my phone and opened up 23AndMe, signing in for the first time in years. Dozens of matches appeared on the screen. I looked over her shoulder and saw the vagrants, still covered in blankets over their heads and shoulders, shambling slowly towards us, lit only by the city lights, the fire braziers in the river, and the glow of their phones they all held. “We should do this somewhere else,” I said nervously, trying to pull Erika with me, but she didn’t budge as the figures shambled closer.

Erika said, “The information I found about your great-grandfather said he came down from a town called Innsmouth.” The figures approaching started to cast off their blankets, fear and tears filled my eyes. I could only make out their dark, blurry shapes as Erika continued, crying, “Everyone in your family was driven out of Innsmouth by the Navy in the 1920s.” The figures were close now, and they were tapping on their phones. I could see their shiny skin and fish-like bulbous faces, some less human than others. The smell of brine and seaweed was strong in my nose, and they began mumbling as they all started to lift up their phones and turn them towards me. Erika continued, sobbing, “They SWAM here from Innsmouth, fleeing their extinction and made Providence their home.”

“They call themselves the Deep Ones.” Erika continued but my mind wasn’t comprehending her words, all I saw was that something drastic had changed in her, something that might mean the end of our relationship. The Deep Ones moved past Erika to surround me, showing me the displays on their phones, all of their 23AndMe accounts stating “Genetic Match.” The tension in the air was palpable as the Deep Ones closed in, their fish-like faces gleaming in the firelight, their eyes reflecting the dancing flames. The smell of brine and seaweed was strong, and I could feel the weight of centuries of secrets pressing down on me.

Erika’s voice broke through the haze of fear and confusion. “Scott, they’re your family. They’ve been waiting for you. This is your destiny, your true home.”

I looked into Erika’s eyes, seeing the mix of sadness and resignation there, I was going to lose her. I struggled against the powerful Deep Ones pulling me away from her as she stood still. I shouted, “But what about you? What about us?”

Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head. “I can’t go with you, Scott. I’m not a part of this. But I do love you, I just… I can’t… it’s not you, uh, it’s me!?”

With those words, the Deep Ones dragged me against my will, their cold, slimy hands pulling me towards the water. I struggled, but it was no use. As I was pulled into the river, I looked back at Erika one last time, her figure fading into the distance through the murky depths, a silent witness to my transformation, her face a mask of sorrow and regret. The cold water enveloped me, and I felt a strange sense of belonging, as if I was finally home. I heard them speak to me through an ancestral connection “Welcome son of Zotykiv, child of Dagon”

In the time that followed, I reflected on my new life. Dagon is a generous god, his golden gifts for our worship is abundant and it seems his power in Providence is just as powerful as it was in Innsmouth. The Deep Ones are grateful he travelled with his faithful to this small city. I thought about visiting Erika sometimes, leaving her some of the trinkets from Lord Dagon’s generosity that I thought she would find interesting and beautiful. I’m still in love with her even though she caused our separation and cast me into this unusual new existence. But everything changed. I’ve changed in every way, and it was hard to come to terms with the fact that we were from different worlds now. She understood that, I think, but it was taking me longer to accept.

I could never face her… not like I am now… not how I look, or probably smell to a human’s fragile nose. I’m one of them and she saw it in me. I don’t know if I could bear to see that look of revulsion on her face again…