by S. E. Akers
“I’m not entirely sure…” Beatrix mumbled warily as she continued to watch the spectacle unfold, trying to assess Bethesda’s intentions. I scanned around the room, noting the faces of all the other guests in attendance. Their stare told a different tale. This crowd thought she was plain old bat-shit crazy.
“Her spirit hasn’t left this realm! I’m sure of it!” Bethesda cried out to anyone who would listen. “Uncle Ron, please don’t bury her body!” she begged when he approached to see what all the commotion was about. Ron Stowell seemed at a loss for words himself. Bethesda turned towards the casket and started patting down Katie’s body, obviously in search of something. Beatrix and I swiftly jumped to the edge of our seats.
I didn’t have a clue what was running through Bea’s mind, but I became panic-stricken with thoughts of Bethesda finding the amethyst Tanner Grey had hidden in Katie’s throat to preserve her body.
How in the heck can THAT be explained? Someone is bound to remove it, and then Katie’s body will be nothing more than a rotting corpse!
“O…M…G,” I moaned as I squeezed Bea’s hand. “You don’t think she—she really knows? Do you? Does she sense the amethyst?” Beatrix remained quiet while she assessed the situation at hand.
Everyone around Bethesda stood idly by as she rooted around in the coffin, too stunned to say anything, let alone stop her. Empty-handed, the would-be witch whipped her head around and began focusing on Katie’s face— in particular, her mouth.
“Aw, shit…” I mumbled out loud.
“What’s going on, Shi? TELL ME!” Katie roared.
Upon confirming my worst fear, Bethesda pounced on Katie’s head like a cat on a mouse and tried her best to claw open her stitched mouth. Beatrix and I sprang to our feet, along with everyone else in the viewing room. Thankfully, no one noticed the “blind” woman’s unusual knee-jerk reaction because they were to busy staring at the whack-job in front of the coffin.
Without a second to lose, Ron Stowell grabbed Bethesda (who’d put up a pretty good fight) and pulled the seemingly deranged cousin away from his daughter’s body. A couple, who I was pretty sure were Bethesda’s parents, dragged her kicking and screaming back down the aisle. Eventually, another one of Katie’s cousins, a muscular young guy by the name of Paul, had to physically restrain her until she promised to straighten up and take her seat. Bethesda’s parents looked mortified and asked her to leave, but she refused. Everything eventually calmed down, even though she sat there eyeing Katie’s coffin, looking fit to be tied. Once Paul had been instructed not to leave their crazed daughter’s side, Bethesda’s parents rushed up to Julia and Ron Stowell to extend their most heartfelt apologies for their daughter’s insane antics. If Katie asked me once during the ruckus, she asked me a thousand times, “What’s happening?” I couldn’t answer her until the crazy scene had come to a close. I seriously hoped this freak show was on its final curtain call, for all our sakes — especially Katie’s.
“So now what do you think?” I queried nervously to Bea.
“Hmmm… I might have to change that B to a W after all,” she remarked with a chary grin. “You see, my dear. This is what I love most about witches… All the delicious drama,” she giggled.
“Is someone going to FINALLY tell me what the heck is going on?” Katie shouted. With no more foreseeable uproars on the horizon, I settled Katie down by bringing her up to speed with a censored version of the truth. I just played it off as her kooky cousin having a disagreement over the handling of her body, due to her newfound beliefs. In no way, shape, or form did I reveal any confirmations by Beatrix that her cousin was actually a straight-up witch.
To everyone’s relief, the service finally commenced without anymore deranged disruptions. I felt kind of bad for Bethesda and glanced back at her several times. She sat in the pew, rocking herself back and forth. Paul kept a close watch on her, but as I tuned into her thoughts, I realized she was doing much more than keeping her cool. Though the reception from her brain waves was markedly unusual, audible but fuzzy, I could hear her saying some sort of chant in her head, over and over. I felt a lot of emotion stemming from her strange words — not sadness or rage, more like passion — but I didn’t know the meaning behind them. I assumed she was either praying or quite possibly, casting a spell. But I was clueless as to “what kind”. Hopefully she wasn’t putting a hex on all the naysayers in the room! I did make out two words she used over and over — “resprito” and “incedo”. I felt awkward about eavesdropping and eventually ended my intrusive ploy. I mean, let’s face it — she was right, in a roundabout way.
Just as I’d predicted, I sensed waves of sadness coming from my sparkly companion. Katie tried to pass it off, but even I knew hearing the painful sorrow in her parents’ voices and knowing they were struggling with a colossal amount of grief was more than she could bear. When it was all said and done, my brazen and brave bosom friend’s strong façade had folded like a cheap tent.
Rightfully so, I noted to myself as a lonely, guilt-ridden tear rolled down my face. All of their sweet sentiments were fueled by the thought that Katie had left us. She hadn’t. Not really.
What in the name of all that’s sacred will happen once she’s…BACK?
That’s when the weight of the world fell upon me, when I first really started thinking about the aftermath of my diamond’s intervention. I twisted around in my seat, desperate for a tolerable position. Bea even nudged my shoulder to halt my unconscious foot tapping. The more my mind delved into the various scenarios (all of them ending with Katie forced into seclusion, deemed an outcast, and unjustly punished by my hands), the more a nauseating feeling rolled in my stomach. To put myself at ease, I grabbed my necklace, which was no longer my cursed, oval golden locket, but Katie’s diamond pendant — the very one that had been stripped from her own neck and given to me graciously by her mother under the harsh fluorescent lights at the hospital on the night of her death. I grasped the gemstone by its setting, as hard as I could, and twisted it back and forth out of habit — but even that coping mechanism fell flat.
With my eyes locked mechanically on the curvy, mountain road that lay in front of me, but my head still firmly lingering in the past, an epiphany surfaced as I focused on that particular memory.
As clear as a bell, I remembered Katie crying out, “Shi? Is something wrong?”, over and over. I’d been too engrossed in my own fearful thoughts that I assumed my silence had roused her suspicions. I never imagined I’d just caused the environment she existed in to go as “dark” as what I felt.
I shook my head and gave the steering wheel a tight squeeze. Not too quick with that one, I scolded myself with a dry laugh. Definitely, my bad.
I’d glossed over the truth by assuring her that she was mistaking my silence for something other than what it was — just me, remaining still throughout the ceremony. I then resorted to a little well-needed supernatural intervention. I reached into my pocket and gave my amethyst a firm squeeze, absorbing all of its energy so I could be lulled into a delusional state of worry-free bliss. Soon, all of Katie’s doubts had been put to bed. I just assumed she had believed my lie. For some reason, I didn’t think it was strange, not in the least. I only used the emotion-cleansing purple stone for a minute. It wasn’t until several days later I discovered whenever I used my amethyst like a Prozac pill that Katie felt its soothing effects too. But that was all she could feel. Even though she had a direct line to my thoughts and emotions whenever her diamond pendant was lying around my neck, she couldn’t pick up on any of my conversations with Tanner Grey, or with Beatrix when I spoke to her using my golden topaz. My stone’s defenses wouldn’t allow it. That was my only saving grace.
Hopefully tonight’s mystical venture will render that point moot, I thought to myself, fighting to contain a bad case of jitters as my tires let out an ear-piercing squeal around a sharp, downhill curve.
The irksome sound forced another memory to surface — the procession of pallbearers that gli
ded past me eerily in slow-motion. Katie’s body would soon be tucked away for safekeeping. I knew it was a necessity, but a wave of helplessness overcame me as I sat there. I felt like I was abandoning her — on purpose. My conscience had a field day with that one. I remembered eyeing her coffin all the way down the aisle. As soon as it disappeared from my sight, it was like someone had just pressed the “start” button on a loud, nagging stopwatch. Its incessant “clicks” ticked in my head like an ill-fated countdown. I knew I had from that moment until the next full moon to think about exactly “what to do”? I had always been a planner, well, until recently when fate decided to step in and toss me the whole, “You’re a Talisman” curveball. My mind was constantly churning about “how to handle her resurrection”. That one question tormented me as soon as I woke up… When I showered… When I ate… During my classes at school… While I was training… At work… In my dreams… I couldn’t escape from it! Even when I honestly tried not to think about it or found the slightest relief from a random distraction, like clockwork, the worrisome pangs struck my heart, letting me know it was still lingering in my subconscious. Instead of OCD, I had OKD (Obsessive Katie Disorder). Unfailingly at the end of every day when I crawled into bed, I felt as useless as a barren chicken — no plans could be hatched. That left me lying there, trying to rest my head comfortably on my pillow, but as horrid as I felt, it may as well have been the inevitable chopping-block.
That same nauseating churn continued to toss my stomach around as we followed the masses down the aisle and out of the viewing room. The slowness of the crowd’s nonchalant pace only heightened its roll. Katie had to have sensed that too, but she was probably so wrapped up in her own doleful thoughts to realize some of them were coming from me. Maybe she felt so low she just didn’t care? I took a deep breath when the funeral home’s double-doors came into view. The sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass panels calmed my nerves like a divine ray of hope, guiding me to an escape. Needing to feel its therapeutic warmth, I clamped down on Beatrix’s arm and jerked her towards the door.
“Shiloh, wait a minute,” a female’s voice called out, halting my escape. It was Bethesda.
“What NOW?” Beatrix groaned in my head. “Doesn’t she have a cauldron that’s about to bubble over?” Though snarky, I had to agree.
Bethesda glided towards us and faced me — and only me. “I’m not going to the cemetery. Not to be rude…but I have my reasons. A burial wouldn’t be right,” she mumbled strangely under her breath.
“I’m sure your family understands, dear,” Beatrix insisted. “You obviously prefer cremation. The ’ole stake and bonfire method instead?” Straightaway, both Katie and I exchanged mental gasps while Bethesda threw Beatrix a look that could crack a mirror.
“Why is Bea being so rude, Shi?” Katie quizzed. I knew the answer to that one, but I also knew Beatrix would think it reckless to confirm anything to someone who wasn’t a supernatural. So, I pretended to be just as stumped.
“Shiloh, it was nice meeting you,” Bethesda emphasized, while throwing Bea another snide look. Before I could extend my hand, she lunged forward to give me one of those overly touchy-feely hugs I’d seen her passing around to everyone else. I stood there trapped in her arms, desperately counting the seconds to when this cuddly death-lock would end, but the troubling thing was, the more time that passed, the longer and more intense her embrace became. Nervously, a thought began to cross my mind that she sensed something other than fake sorrow. Something more spellbinding. Something like the enthralling and powerful energy the diamond wand allowed me to exude. She had sensed the amethyst on Katie. I was certain of it.
I had to wiggle free from her grasp after about a minute. I glanced over at Beatrix, who was keeping a vigilant eye on the budding witch. Bethesda stood before me locked in an odd, self-induced trance, eyes starry and flashing a toothy-smile that had set onto her face like stone.
“Ooh my! You—you have such a strong aura. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. IT’S INCREDIBLE! Kind of tingly and full of energy that’s warm… It burns fiercely inside you,” Bethesda marveled enthusiastically. Sensing my uneasiness, Beatrix stepped closer.
“She was running a slight fever earlier,” Beatrix remarked coolly as she locked onto my wrist. With one swift tug, she yanked me towards her and started fumbling her hands around my face, patting and smacking away. “Oh dear, has it gotten worse?”
“Ugh!” Bethesda grunted. “She doesn’t have a fever. It’s not that kind of feeling. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
It was bad enough knowing I had to be extremely careful around other Talismans because they could sense the diamond’s power. Now, I have to be on high-alert around witches, too…and who knows what else? In a twisted stroke of luck, my nervousness lent me a hand by forcing a few drops of sweat to stream from my brow.
“It was a little hot in there,” I insisted, fanning my hand. Bethesda raised a suspicious eye as she sized up my assertion with my flushed appearance.
“I found it quite cool…like some of the guests,” Bethesda cracked with a glance directed at Beatrix.
“Shiloh, don’t you think it’s time we depart for the cemetery?” Beatrix posed. “We don’t want to arrive late. Now that would be rude…and I think this ceremony has had enough of that.”
“Shiloh,” Bethesda called out, brushing off Bea’s latest jab. “If you’re ever in Boston, please, look me up. I’d love to visit with you some more. Who knows? Maybe even introduce you to some of my friends?” she posed eagerly while eyeing me like a prized filly that had just been put up for auction. “I know they’d love for you to join our circle.”
“Um…Yeah,” I replied hesitantly. “If I’m ever in Boston, then I’ll—”
“She’ll be sure to give you a cackle — I mean, holler,” Beatrix interrupted curtly.
I could tell Bethesda had reached her tolerance threshold by the way she started prowling around Bea, meticulously staring at her. I began to sense a lot more than rage coming from the stranger in our midst. Her thoughts churned wildly with wicked intentions. No sooner than I’d telepathically called out to Bea in an alarming tone, Bethesda quickly snatched up her medallion and started clutching the copper disc firmly in her hand. All of a sudden, her mind went completely blank. I couldn’t hear a daggone thing!
“It’s a shame when senility kicks in,” Bethesda remarked, rather disdainfully as she stood behind Bea. “They don’t realize how their hurtful words could come back to haunt them…in the end.”
“Shiloh, I believe your new little friend here is threatening me,” Bea remarked nonchalantly. In one swift move, the supposedly “blind” old woman spun around on her heels, now facing Bethesda, and grabbed her hand. Beatrix pulled her closer and leaned right into her face. “Darling, you wouldn’t want to see my evil-eye,” she vowed in a taunting grumble.
Bethesda appeared shaken from the accuracy of Bea’s maneuver (and possibly her tone), but her rattled look shifted into more of a bewildered stare. She remained rooted right where she was, clutching her medallion, with her eyes locked solely on Beatrix. You could actually feel the heat from her churning thoughts. Before we knew it, Bethesda had snapped out of her daze and yanked her arm from Bea’s grasp. She threw Beatrix a vile smirk and then shifted her gaze down towards her hand, eyeing her medallion. She released the shiny, flat pendant straightaway, allowing me to catch a glimpse of its backside before it landed against her body. There were some markings on its underside, along with something else bearing a bluish or possibly green hue fastened to it. Bethesda straightened her stance as she fiddled with her chain. Oddly, her demeanor now seemed downright cocky as she headed for the exit. She stopped in the doorway and glanced back to throw Beatrix a rueful grin.
“Soon…I’m afraid,” Bethesda sighed, without a trace of emotion and headed out the door.
Beatrix and I stood in the doorway and watched Katie’s cousin saunter across the parking lot, noting h
er proud stride. Our eyes stayed glued on her every move as she hopped into a rental car and drove out of sight.
“You know,” I began as we headed towards my Charger, “I think she was about to put a spell on you.”
“She couldn’t have, dear,” Beatrix laughed. “Even if she truly is a bona fide witch, then she’s relatively new to the craft, so her powers aren’t very strong. Definitely not strong enough to permeate my stone’s defenses,” she boasted.
“But, what did she mean by ‘soon’?” I inquired skeptically.
“Honestly, I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Beatrix remarked. “Weren’t you reading her mind?”
“Yeah. Right up until she grabbed her necklace, and then it was like her mind went blank, or something was blocking it. I couldn’t make anything else out. Sorry.”
“That’s quite all right, Shiloh. It happens sometimes. But that’s neither here nor there. That’s the last we’ll see of her,” Beatrix added confidently.
“There were some markings on the other side of her medallion, and I thought I caught a glimpse of something blue or maybe green on its surface.”
“Hmmm… It could have been charmed, I suppose. Most likely it was just her coven’s insignia, dear. They like to advertize. I’d say her family requested she turn it around while she was here, to be respectful. A lot of good that did,” Beatrix remarked as she shook her head.
“Well, it didn’t end with her scene up at the casket. I heard her chanting during Katie’s service. She kept repeating ‘respirto’ and ‘incedo’…several times, in fact.” Upon that announcement, Beatrix smacked the roof of my car and let out a boisterous laugh.
“That novice little twit was trying to locate her soul. She thinks it’s lost. Destined to roam the earth aimlessly. She was calling out to it. Trying to reunite it with her body before they planted her vessel in hallowed ground. Ugh! Amateurs! If it were only that easy!” Beatrix shrugged with an arrogant laugh.
Since there were still some people lingering in the parking lot, I kept up my charade by opening the car door for my deceptively-disabled comrade and then pretended to help her down into the seat. I paused before closing her door, halted by Katie’s voice still hounding me with suspicions about the “witch” thing.
