by S. E. Akers
I collapsed on my bed that night utterly exhausted — and every evening after that for the next couple of weeks. And even as tired as what I was, I failed to get any decent sleep. Samuel had gotten back over week ago, without any fruitful news. Turns out he had to leave all the rough diamonds with the gemologist so he could establish their “true worth”. As soon as that had been taken care of, then and only then, their cutter could finally go to work. Samuel did say the gemologist made a flattering comment about the uniqueness of their quality. I took that as a good sign — a good “dollar sign”, that is. Samuel had given them my bank account information, so all I had to do was wait for a wire-transfer. Once a buyer had cut them a check, all the money would be placed in my checking account that very day. The process sounded easy enough, but the waiting was pure Hell.
How much longer? Have they even been cut yet? Do they have any interested buyers? How much will they fetch? They may have had my financial information, but “Mr. Clark” was their point-of-contact. I couldn’t call to check on them myself, but I sure bugged the heck out of him, or rather, Ms. Marion. I’d only spoken physically to my surrogate father twice. She intercepted the calls every other time and before long, they started suspiciously going straight to his voicemail. I stopped by several times, only to find a lifeless house and no one there. I started to worry she had him tied up in a bed somewhere like that bat-shit psycho-woman from Misery. She was a nurse too. I’d have called the cops already if I didn’t think Officer Ryan would laugh away my request. Charlotte was acting even witchier, which led me to believe that time was running out. Yes, every night my head hit the pillow with hopes of a decent night’s rest, only to have it whirl with thoughts of the sheriff and his men pitching our stuff out of the house and onto the front yard. My only bright spot — hearing Tanner’s voice as I lay curled up in bed.
But that triggered a different kind of restlessness…all on its own.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A bubbling “bleep” shot through my bedroom. I rolled over with an ironclad grip on my covers, totally ignoring the sound.
Another irritating “bleep” blared not a minute later, followed by another…and another…and yes, ANOTHER.
I threw back the covers to find my bedroom full of mid-morning sun. That was notably odd, considering most mornings I beat the chickens up. I whipped my head around to my bedside table. There was my alarm clock, less its lit-up blue numeric display. I tapped it a few times and even gave its plug a reassuring tug.
Broken, I shrugged and placed it back on the table. Another “bleep” led my gaze over to the other side of my room. I hopped out of bed when I noticed the bright glow coming from the screen on my phone. My “accidental” wake-up call turned out to be Kara, bombarding my cell with a slew of texts. Apparently she was making sure her scheme to land Mike as her official, “unofficial date” was set to go off without a hitch. I simply sent her back a big ’ole capital “Y” and hoped it was enough to soothe the little insecure schemer’s frantic nerves.
I noted the time on my phone. As tired and stressed as what I’d been over the past several weeks, I wasn’t the least bit surprised that I’d slept in until ten. After an unsuccessful attempt at a rousing stretch, I forced myself down to the kitchen for a much-needed caffeine fix, since I had a big evening ahead — Prom Night.
I dumped in the grounds and filled the well, only to discover the red light wouldn’t come on, not even after several firm punches and one hard smack. Figures. Joe-less, I shuffled to the living room, hoping some audio and video stimulation would do the trick. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually sat down to watch something on TV, let alone a movie. I pressed the button on the remote repeatedly, but it didn’t turn on. After my umpteenth lazy attempt, I finally dragged my butt up to try it at the set.
I tapped the remote in my hand while I stared at the screen that remained black. Hmmmm…
The front door flew open. Charlotte was carting in a drink carrier, which contained two cups of coffee. I didn’t dare assume the other was for me. Too considerate.
“The TV isn’t working,” I remarked.
Charlotte shirked slightly. She was terrible at playing games. “I cancelled the satellite.”
I tossed the remote onto the sofa and crossed my arms. “Really?” I posed.
“Yes,” my mother snapped. “Two-Hundred and ninety-four channels and there’s never anything on.”
Even for deception, her gripe did ring with a little truth. “That doesn’t explain the electricity?”
Charlotte slammed her purse down on the table. “We’re going green,” she growled artfully.
“There’s nothing ‘green’ around here…or in there,” I charged with a quick glance at her pricey Louis Vuitton bag. I snagged one of the coffees out of the carrier. “Thank you, Mother. How did you know I needed that?” I goaded and breezed back to the kitchen. She was on my heels the entire stretch of the hall, huffing and puffing like a daggone coal train.
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Save it,” I interrupted with a whirl and my finger trembling. “I opened your mail a few weeks ago, while y’all were still at the beach.” I shook my head and laughed. “Lounging poolside on your vacation.” I didn’t even get that. “I was really hoping the foreclosure was a big mistake, but after I opened another bill, and another, and then another…I realized it wasn’t.”
“What it is, is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!” Charlotte roared.
“It’s ALL of our ‘BUSINESS’! How could you let this happen?” I demanded. Charlotte turned away, knowing that for probably the first time in her life, it was plastered with genuine shame. “Isn’t there any money left?”
“Not enough,” Charlotte mumbled. “Why does it matter to you anyway? You’ll be gone soon.”
“It matters because this is the house Daddy built with his own two hands…for all of us. I don’t want strangers living here!”
“There a lot of things I didn’t want in my life,” Charlotte countered and shored it up with a surly glare.
Now that knife I felt, wedged dead center inside my hysterically beating heart. There were a million things I wanted to say, but my anger had my head spinning so fast I couldn’t choose just one. All that came out was, “Oh, get off your butt and get a job! I’m sure there’s a bar hiring somewhere,” and then I stormed out of the room. I raced up the stairs, mad enough to spit nails, and banged on Chloe’s door. I heard a loud grunt, followed by the sound of clunky footsteps.
The door flew open. “What???” Chloe moaned.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” my little sister snapped as she flicked the light switch. The ceiling light over her bed didn’t turn on — imagine that — even after her fifth flick. Chloe marched into the hall and yelled, “Mom, do we have any bulbs?”
I grabbed her arm and led her back into her bedroom. “It’s not the bulbs, Chloe.”
“Did you blow another fuse with your crappy old hair dryer?”
“Ugh…No.”
Chloe scratched her head. “The power’s out? It can’t be!” she cried. “The prom is tonight!” She started running around the room in a crazed fit. “When is it coming back on?”
I fell back against the wall. “When Mom pays the bill.”
I sat on the edge of my sister’s bed for the next two hours. I did what my father would have done and simply rocked her in my arms to console her. Strangely, I wanted to do it too. By her hysterical state, you’d think her date was going to be pulling up in front of a cardboard box to find her barefoot and wearing a freakin’ potato sack, waiting for her to pin a dandelion to his lapel. Far from it, not by the looks of the extravagantly beaded dress they had picked up last week. Miss America had less bling.
“Chloe, you have to stop crying. Do you want your eyes looking all swollen when your date picks you up?”
To my surprise, vanity bared no effect. In fact, her tears started to pick up their pace.
> “Mike would loan us the money…if we were still dating,” Chloe sniffled.
I almost fell off the bed. “Sure he would…and I can see Elisa Riverside handing him the pen too.”
Chloe whipped her head up, clearly offended.
“Sorry,” I apologized and continued to stroke her head. A loan? From Mike Riverside? She sure has one heck of a high opinion of herself…or Mike. I saved his life…and he only promised me dinner! “Things will work out, Chloe. Just go to one of your friends’ houses and get ready for the dance there. No big deal. This mess will still be here tomorrow.”
“Yeah… Until the sheriff shows up,” Chloe cried.
“It won’t come to that,” I insisted.
Chloe’s eyes sparkled. “Are you going to sell your land?” she blurted.
I could see her pupils shifting into dollar signs. “No. I’m not doing that.”
My little sister jumped to her feet. “Can’t you think of someone other than yourself, JUST ONCE?” she barked.
I decided to take the high road (a very HIGH ROAD) and brushed off her absurd and asinine jab. I rose to my feet in a snap and announced civilly, “That’s all I’ve EVER DONE.” I turned to make my exit, simply because I’d feel bad if her prom picture featured a red slap mark on her cheek and big black-eye. I guess that was another heartless bitch boring holes in her body a couple of weeks ago in the tub? My mistake.
She ran into the hall after me, desperate and teary. “You’re just going to leave us here with this mess?”
“It won’t come to that!” I vowed.
“How do YOU KNOW?” Chloe cried.
“Because fate has a way of working everything out,” I replied, hoping I was right and secretly praying someone bought up those diamonds quick — every last one of them!
It was almost noon, and I hadn’t put Katie on yet. I had to rectify that.
“Where have you been?” Katie asked, panicked.
“Fussing at Charlotte and consoling Chloe. She knows about the all the bills.”
“You told Cinderella before her big night?” Katie belted out a long whistle. “That’s harsh.”
“I know, but I had to tell her why the power was out.”
“So what does she think of Mommy Dearest now?” Katie inquired.
“Are you kidding? Charlotte still hangs the moon,” I groaned. “I’m the selfish one.”
“Mother’s Day is right around the corner. You could buy her a tent and a lifetime supply of Charmin. You can let them rent a pretty spot out on your land,” Katie giggled.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“It won’t. You’re worrying for nothing,” Katie vowed. “They’ll sell, if they haven’t already. I didn’t even see them and I know they will.”
“Well, they’d better hurry,” I replied as I glanced at the calendar on my wall. If the stress over fixing Charlotte’s mess wasn’t bad enough, I reached my threshold when I spotted the white circle printed in the upper left-hand corner of today’s date, only to be reminded YET AGAIN of what would be hanging in the sky tonight — another full moon. Listlessly, I wandered over to my window. Something sitting on the outside ledge triggered a flinch. Correction, now I’d reached my threshold.
Son-of-a-bitch! I raised the wooden frame and picked up the black onyx with a pair of tweezers, and damn if he hadn’t chopped off another lock of her hair. This one was even longer and it had been pulled out by its roots. She’s going to be freakin’ bald before I find her!
“I said don’t worry about it,” Katie insisted, obviously sensing my angst.
“It’s not that.”
“You’re still going tonight, AREN’T YOU?” Katie demanded.
“There was an onyx outside my window,” I revealed, keeping the hair to myself (for good reason).
“Oooh,” Katie mumbled. After a minute of stark silence, my bosom friend ordered, “Forget about it.”
“Easier said than done,” I mumbled as I dropped the ribbon-tied lock into my purse.
“No, it’s not,” Katie contested. “I told you. I’ll be back in my body when it’s meant to be. Our vacation taught me that… And besides, you already made unbreakable plans. You’re taking me to the prom.”
I pulled a matchless sock out of my drawer and dropped the onyx inside it, so I could cart it over to Bea’s house safely. “All right. I guess I can’t argue with my date.”
With no promise of the power coming back on (and my drained iPod battery in need of a charge), I loaded up everything I would need to get ready for the dance and headed on over to Bea’s house early. There wasn’t much else to do (and I hadn’t played “real” Solitaire with actual cards in who knows how long).
Even with everything Katie already knew, the rules regarding a visit to Bea’s house still applied. I propped open the lid to her jewelry box and laid her inside while I assured her that I would get her out right before I left for the prom. Katie fussed anyway and cussed so loud that I wouldn’t have been surprised if the old stickler had heard her.
As I passed through the living room, Mr. Webber started flapping around his cage and squawking, making an awful ruckus.
Beatrix breezed into the room without delay. “There, there, Mr. Webber,” she purred and filled his feeder with a fresh batch of seeds. “I’ve got your lunch right here.”
“Any idea when you’re going to change him back?” I posed. Quite honestly, I couldn’t believe she hadn’t done it already.
“When the time is right,” Beatrix cooed as she stroked his wing. Mr. Webber starting chirping immediately. “I think he’s grown rather fond of me.”
I gave the bars of the cage a couple of taps. “I’m pretty sure that’s the Stockholm-Syndrome.”
“Pish-posh,” Beatrix waved. “Don’t worry. He’ll be back to his old self soon.”
I raised my brow. “Just like Officer Ryan?”
Beatrix placed her hands on my shoulders. “Oh, all right,” she huffed compliantly. “I promise. I’ll take care of Mr. Webber tonight,” she clarified.
Well, at least it’s a start.
“Here,” I said as I pulled my latest onyx and hair clipping out of my purse. She gave the lock of hair a couple of whirls and then peeked into the sock.
“I’ll add this to your collection,” Beatrix teased. She gave the onyx another stealthy peep. “After I take care of some housekeeping, of course.”
“But of course,” I confirmed with a pitiful eye roll.
I followed Beatrix into the kitchen where lunch was waiting — dainty little tea biscuits, each with a thick slice of brown sugar ham and Gouda cheese. They were delicious, but very tiny. I had to stop myself at three, before I killed off the entire dozen stacked on the fancy silver platter sitting less than a few tempting inches away from me.
“Have another, dear,” Beatrix encouraged.
I couldn’t pass this one up. “I would, but I have to fit into my dress. Ham tends to be a bit bloating. I don’t want to look any fatter than I am,” I cracked, recalling her innuendo in the dressing room weeks ago.
Beatrix lowered her head, rather ashamed. “Yes. About that,” my mentor began.
I threw up my hand. “Save your words,” I announced, mocking her sometimes-uppity air to perfection. “They’ll do nothing but fall on deaf ears… My dear.”
Beatrix folded her arms and leaned back in her chair.
“If you didn’t want me to go into the ocean, why didn’t you just say so?” I laughed.
“And how would that conversation have went?” Beatrix posed. “Watch out for sharks… Oh, and a half-Talisman, half-Leviathan who prowls the four oceans and seven seas named Lorelei?”
“It’s still easier on the ears than, ‘it makes you look fat’,” I argued. Even the mere mention of the sea-bitch made me uneasy, especially on a night like tonight. “Do you think she’ll show up?”
“I’m sure she’s healed from her run-in with Tanner, so…yes, I think she’ll make an attempt,” Beatrix s
tated without any reservations. My pale face forced her to set down her cup. She placed her hands over mine. “I said she would ‘make an attempt’. I didn’t say it would be successful,” she boasted.
“Why is that?”
“Consider it a gift from me…and Padimae. We spelled the perimeter. She can’t cross its borders.”
“Padimae’s here?”
“No. I contacted her last night. She channeled some of her powers to me, so the boundary would be sure to hold. One being can’t cast a spell as large as that.”
“So the two of you spelled the entire city?”
Beatrix almost spit up her tea trying to muzzle her chuckle. “City? That’s for amateurs, my dear. We enchanted the entire state…every ‘wild & wonderful’, twist and turn. That will make for a nice Saturday-Night surprise for the old redheaded witch. I’m hoping it will deter her from trying again. A spell like that must use traces of some very unspeakable magic. We pushed the safety of its limits last night, and it wouldn’t be wise for anyone, including myself, to try it a second-time. There are still many more full moons to come…and eventually, she will find you.”
“I’m lookin’ forward to that,” I groaned and shook my head.
“So,” Beatrix began, “I didn’t see a garment bag. Don’t tell me you’re planning on wearing that to the dance,” she remarked with a teasing sneer as she pulled her tea to her lips.
“No,” I smiled. “I figured I would throw on dress you gave me for Christmas. I didn’t see the point in buying a new one.”
“That old thing?” Beatrix exclaimed in a gasp. “It’s so last season.” Beatrix rose from her chair. “Wait here. I think I might have something hanging in my closet that might work.”
“As long as it’s not your tracksuit with ‘Juicy’ stamped across its backside,” I ragged. I snuck one more biscuit while I waited for her to return. Whatever she brought out couldn’t come close to the monstrosity Charlotte and Chloe had tried to outfit me in for the last dance. A spasm shot through my body just thinking about the hideous black and yellow glob. Ugh!
