The Power of Witches

by Shay Bencosme

  "The Order knew they wouldn't be able to control a witch with that much power—especially from birth. So they wanted to kill the baby.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” I said. “If these people can do magic, why not just hide the powers or something?”

  “Noa, hush.”

  I fought to roll my eyes. I didn’t know what to think about Lily’s story. If it was true, then that meant that magic and witches were real. And if Lily thought I was so important, then that must’ve meant…

  "The mother wouldn't let them kill the baby. She went into hiding. Found almost a year later with no baby. And no one knew where it had gone."

  I felt a sense of familiarity. Like I had heard this story before. I wracked my head for some book or TV show, but deep down I felt like that wouldn’t be the answer. The familiarity was personal. I looked at Lily expectantly. "Did she kill the baby?"

  "No one knows what happened,” Lily whispered.

  I took a deep breath, noticing now that my palms were sweaty. I wiped them on my sweatpants before speaking again. “I don’t want to know the rest.”

  "They found her in South Carolina," Lily continued but I cut her off quickly.

  "I don't want to listen anymore," I snapped. I felt unsettled, felt the story I was told was too real, to coincidental. Did Lily conspire with Cyrus? Find the foster file I had shoved under my mattress currently? "Is this some sick joke?" I raged loudly.

  "Noa, pay attention."

  "No, fuck you." Lights began to flicker as my rage grew. They were making fun of me. Telling me some messed up story. Trying to make it seem like there's an impossible explanation for my childhood.

  "It's not a coincidence, Noa," Lily pleaded, looking above her head at the light getting ready to burst. "You need to calm down."

  There was banging at the door, with Cyrus's gruff voice on the other end. "Lily? Everything okay?"

  His voice made me angrier. Was he there the whole time? Listening to Lily spew lies at me? I rushed to the door of our bedroom, throwing it open and storming past Cyrus's body.

  "Noa!" Lily called after me, urging and pleading with me to stop, calm down, listen. I couldn't stop the tears from forming in my eyes.

  I spun quickly, watched the antagonists at the edge of the hall stop in their tracks. "Leave me alone!" I screamed. With the last word, lights shattered down the hall, in a straight line right towards Cyrus and Lily. They covered their faces and didn’t move toward me, instead letting me leave.

  So I rushed downstairs, ignoring the other kids in the house and ignoring Elsa, who called after me.

  CHAPTER 5

  I rushed outside, hoping that the fresh air would ground me and bring me back to the present. But there was no relief from my anger and anxieties. I collapsed on the front steps of Gardenside, feeling the wind rustle through my brown hair. I buried my face in my hands. And then I began to sob.

  The wind kicked up, swirling dirt and leaves around my huddled body. I pulled my hands from my face and gripped the steps, picking up my head to look around. Holding the steps helped me feel grounded, but my fears were still at large. Liars, I thought, my mind going back to the story that got me here on these steps. Manipulation and lying were a foster’s biggest strengths. Why would I have thought that Gardenside was going to be any different?

  The door behind me opened. I turned quickly, wiping my eyes of the tears that still wet my face. Standing in the doorway was one of the other fosters I had seen around, a blonde girl with knowing eyes, dressed currently in a short-sleeved Peter Pan blouse and light wash jeans. I turned away from the girl to face forward, hoping that the girl hadn’t noticed my weakness.

  “Mama called a come to Jesus meeting.” The girl spoke kind of awkwardly as if she wasn’t sure what to make of my haggard appearance. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, fine.” I sniffled and wiped my nose of loose snot.

  The girl appeared on the steps next to me and placed her hands in her lap. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Awkward had to have been one of her defining traits in life. I pulled my hair forward to cover my red face.

  “Are you sure?” the girl pressed again. She reached over and, very gently, laid her hand on my shoulder. I felt immediate calmness and tranquility. The burning in my cheeks subsided easily, and I let go of my grip on the stairs that had turned my knuckles white.

  I shuddered away from the girl’s touch, looking up at her with furrowed brows. “I haven’t met you yet,” the girl said slowly. “I’m Alana.”

  “Noa,” I replied, nodding my head. I had no clue why I suddenly felt less anxious, but I embraced the calm. I could take my next steps with a clear head.

  Alana stood up, holding out her hand for me to take. I did, and Alana pulled me up. I took my hand away, placing it back by my side, and together we walked into the house.

  In the large sitting room stood Elsa, and two of the other women who worked in the house, Kennedy and Beth. Sixteen kids sat in various spots around the room, turning their heads to look at the last two remaining. I noted Cyrus and Lily’s presence near the fireplace. Lily stood with her back to the wall, her arms crossed. Cyrus leaned with his elbow resting on the mantel. Lily opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Cyrus looked over at the blonde girl and shook his head.

  I followed Alana to sit on the floor at the edge of the couch, our backs resting in between the legs of two of the younger children.

  “Okay, I believe that’s everyone,” Elsa said with a clap of her hands. “I trust everyone is feeling a tad bit better after this morning’s eventful breakfast.”

  I looked around, noting that the few kids who had left for the ER had returned. They looked so fragile in their bandages, the youngest kid with the large gash on his nose held together with butterfly bandages was probably no older than twelve. Noticing my stare, the boy looked at me. I turned away quickly, my cheeks burning, my attention back to Elsa’s speech.

  “It is times like this when I must stress safety and the control of fear and other damaging emotions,” Elsa seemed to stare at me, but she also moved her gaze over to the other children, lingering on Cyrus, Lily, Alana, and a few others. “For some of you, that comes easy. For others, it is detrimental in this household.”

  Kennedy cleared her throat. “What Mrs. Montgomery is saying,” she started with a pointed glare at the older woman. “When things go wrong that no one can control, it is important that we keep calm mindsets and evacuate in an orderly manner. Or ask an adult for help.”

  “Or one of the older kids,” Beth added on.

  “Yes, good way to word things.” Elsa smiled.

  I made a note of the weird interaction between the three women. I looked over at Cyrus, who just so happened at that moment to be staring. I furrowed my brows and turned my look into a glare. He looked away from me, back to Elsa.

  “Is everyone doing alright? Jonas?” Elsa gave a feeble smiling to the boy with the hurt nose.

  “I’m okay, Mama. I’m tough.” Jonas flexed his arms to show that he had muscles—albeit, small ones, but still. Josie and Harry burst into laughter, along with one other little girl that I didn’t know the name of.

  Josie’s exuberant laughter put a smile on the faces of the older kids. I caught Tomás’s toothy grin as he sat on the arm of the maroon chaise positioned on the right side of the fireplace, across from the couch I sat in front of. Seeing his smile made me also smile, but I could also feel my cheeks begin to burn. I dropped my head quickly, my cuticles suddenly having my utmost attention.

  “Myles?” Elsa looked up behind me, and everyone turned. I had sat between the legs of the boy who had left in the ambulance while I had watched. I touched his small legs gently, giving him some support.

  He must’ve made some sort of signal because everyone turned their heads back towards Elsa. She clapped her hands. “Well, does anyone have anything else to say?”

  Alana raised her hand. “We haven’t introduced Noa yet, Mama.”
>
  Elsa nodded. “You’re absolutely right. Noa,” she beckoned me to stand. I shook her head quickly, refusing the attention.

  “Noa, please.”

  With a huff, I stood. Seventeen kids and three adults all had eyes on me. “My name is Noa Rembrandt.”

  “Like the Rembrandt baby?” One of the kids asked. I looked over at the voice—a pimply black kid with thick glasses.

  “Yes.” I gulped. I had never had a foster home with such a large group of other foster kids. The most I’d ever had in a house was four, including myself. It seemed strange to be surrounded by people who knew of me (even though that was fairly popular) and who understood what it was like to be a foster.

  “What’s the Rem-hand baby?” said Harry. A few of the little kids echoed his question.

  I caught the concerned gaze of Kennedy, and I shook her head quickly. “Uh, it’s a long story.”

  “She was found in a trash can!” came the voice of another unnamed girl.

  “Jane,” Alana scowled. I noticed familiarities between the two. Siblings?

  “What?” Jane shot back at her possible-sister.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Elsa said sternly. “Simon, you do not disclose foster histories.”

  “But she was famous!” Simon, the kid with the glasses, insisted. He threw his hands up in the air and let them drop dramatically.

  “That is her story to tell, Simon. Not yours.”

  “Yeah,” Jane spoke up again. “How would you like it if I told everyone your mom was a prostitute and she took you to work with her!”

  “Jane!” Alana stood up, crossed the room, and grabbed the girl’s arm. “What is your problem?”

  “Ow!”

  “Girls!” Beth crossed the room to separate the siblings. She pushed Alana back to my side. Beth reached down to whisper something in Jane’s ear. She nodded, and Beth stepped back to her original position.

  “Well, with that, the meeting is adjourned.” Elsa pressed her lips together.

  All the kids hustled to leave quickly, abandoning the now stuffy sitting room for outdoors, or the library, or even the living room to watch TV. I stayed in my spot, waiting for the room to empty so I could be alone. Unfortunately, life had other plans.

  “Noa?”

  I looked up at the sound of Lily’s voice, my head shaking. Cyrus and Lily stood above me, both looking guilty. “No,” I said firmly. “Get away from me. Both of you.”

  I stood, pushed the two aside, and stomped away. I didn’t know what I was going to do yet, but this was a start. In the kitchen, I leaned on the island using my elbows, running my fingers through my hair.

  I fished my cell phone out of my pocket and called the only number I kept consistently, throughout all of the families.

  There were two rings after dialing, and then a cheery voice answered. “Noa! How nice of you to call.”

  “Clara, I need to get out of here.”

  CHAPTER 6

  "Unfortunately, we have nowhere else to put you," Clara spoke sympathetically. She knew I had an issue—never once had I requested a new home. I was one of the easy ones. I never complained. I adapted. But this time, whatever got me into my funk couldn't be fixed with a new placement. I was stuck at Gardenside unless Clara could swing moving her to North Carolina, or Georgia. Something that was mostly impossible.

  "Whatever it is, that's an issue, Miss Rembrandt, I'd love to help fix it." Elsa smiled lightly at her newest foster, seemingly unsure of what exactly the problem was.

  It was Monday morning, and I had spent a grand total of sixty-eight hours at Gardenside. I was determined to be moved out by the afternoon. Might've been one of my quickest placements ever. I avoided school today, a new one at that, for this meeting.

  "We can potentially move the kids around," Elsa continued. "If Lily Caine is the issue, the room situation can be adjusted."

  "Who is Lily Caine?" Clara asked.

  "Another foster we have. She's a good kid, but obviously, when we're dealing with fosters, there are personality conflicts..."

  "It's not a personality conflict," I spoke up suddenly, startling both women who had before just assumed I wouldn't partake in the conversation. "I hate it here. This place is stupid."

  "Now, Noa..."

  "No!" I stood, her voice rising. "I broke the lightbulbs! I broke the glass in Cyrus' hand! I'm a troublemaker! Kick me out!"

  Clara folded her arms. "Noa, sit down. Now." She turned towards Elsa. "What's this light bulb thing? Or glass?"

  Elsa shook her hand. "Those had nothing to do with Noa. We had a fuse shortage on the third floor that resulted in some broken light bulbs. Also had a freak accident of glass shattering in the cafeteria. It's no big deal and the accident has already been reported to CPS."

  "Was Noa involved?"

  "Noa was present, sure, but obviously no one carries the blame of electrical malfunctions or freak weather."

  The two ladies apparently realized their bickering wasn't going to end anywhere nice, so they turned their attention back to the problem at hand: where I was going to live.

  "I think Noa should go to class today, make a few friends," Elsa suggested. "I'll make the arrangements for the girls to be separated and," she turned towards me with a smile, "please, tell me if there is a problem before calling your caseworker to come pick you up."

  I clenched my fist, but took a deep breath and relaxed. Of course, they didn't understand.

  I walked back up to her room, grabbed my backpack—some WalMart brand I'd got a few years back when I was the only kid in a family and they showered me with gifts until they realized I was actually the spawn of Satan. I then begrudgingly went outside to wait for Elsa. I'd missed the bus this morning, to deal with the "problem" at hand. Now I'd need a ride.

  It was a few more minutes until Elsa came out, keys in hand. "Are you ready?" she asked, laying a hand on my back to propel me forward. Clara rushed out of the door just seconds after, ruffling my hair.

  "Try not to cause any more trouble, alright?" she said before rushing into her car and driving off. I sighed, using my hands to smooth down the frizz that Clara had undoubtedly caused.

  "I'm ready," I said softly.

  Thankfully, the drive to school wasn't too long, and I was out of Elsa's presence after a quick trip to the office and a written pass to class.

  "Do you need help finding the class?" The TA asked, handing me my new schedule and student ID.

  "I'm sure I'll be okay." I glanced at the ID, handed to me on a navy blue lanyard. The TA must've sensed my confusion because she pointed to her own student ID hung around her neck.

  "We're required to wear it at all times on campus."

  "That's weird."

  "That's policy."

  I slipped the lanyard over my head, thanked the TA, and left the office in search of my classroom. Luckily the school was small, and it took no time at all for me to find my new English class. There was a small window in the door, and I looked inside before entering, watching the teacher as he absentmindedly spoke, his gaze on a big-breasted teenager in the front row wearing a low cut top. I scrunched my nose in disgust. Of course.

  I opened the door sheepishly, interrupting the lecture by the teacher.

  "And you are?" he spoke grumpily, tearing his gaze away from his eye candy.

  "Uh, Noa Rembrandt."

  "You act like I'm supposed to know who that is." Chuckles erupted in whispers throughout the classroom. Great, I thought. An asshole for a teacher and public humiliation on my first day. I wasn't going to let his attitude get the best of me, though.

  "I'm your new student," I shot back. "Maybe if you'd pay attention to your job instead of ogling the girls in your class, you'd know that."

  "Oooooooh!" came from the class in loud bellows. The teacher grew angry, and I simply smirked.

  "Sit down, Miss Rembrandt. Now.”

  I made my way to an empty seat in the back of the class while the teacher waited for me to sit. He resumed hi
s lecture on prepositions and detailed the homework assignment. I paid no attention to him, glancing down at my schedule to give him a name to the face. Paul Watson.

  I folded the piece of paper and shoved it into my pocket. Then I reached into my backpack and pulled out the English notebook from my last school. I ripped out the notes I had from there, leaving only empty pages. I crumbled up the loose pages and threw them into my bag. Then I glanced up at the board, copying down the few notes he had up there. Shoot. Maybe I should’ve paid attention to the assignment.

  I tapped on the shoulder of the boy in front of me. He turned to look at me. “What was the assignment?” I whispered.

  He passed his notebook back to me and I copied his notes quickly before handing it back. “Thanks,” I said. He didn’t respond.

  ◆◆◆

  The rest of the day went by uneventful. I thankfully shared no classes with Lily, and both Tomás and Cyrus were seniors, so I didn’t expect any with them. I did share an art class with Alana. I actually really liked her. And Alana didn’t try to spin any witchy lies to me, so I hoped a friendship could prosper.

  At the end of the day, I left the school grounds, heading towards the white bus that had Gardenside County Home for Troubled Youth written on the side. Unlike other kids who rode the yellow buses, the Gardenside bus was specifically for the foster kids who lived there. It was how they got from place to place.

  Only seven kids living in Gardenside were in high school, so the bus was empty even though I was one of the last ones to get on. Each kid basically got their own seat, except for the few who wanted to group together to talk about their day. Lily and Cyrus sat in the back, and Alana sat towards the front. When I stepped on, I saw Tomás placed perfectly in the middle. He raised his hand to wave and beckon me over.

  “Sup,” he said with a smile as I sat down next to him. “How was your first day?”