The Root of Magic

by Kathleen Benner Duble

  “Is that why there are no mailboxes or phones?” Willow says as her mind processes what Angeline is telling her. “Because you already know what mail you’ll get and what someone is going to say to you on the phone?”

  Angeline nods. “Yeah. It’s cool. Because of the magic of the berries, we save a lot of time. And it’s fun. It’s also why none of us ever leaves Kismet.

  “So see,” she says, holding out the berry she took before. “Tonight, I’ll eat this berry, and I’ll dream about my tomorrow. And from the berry I ate last night, I knew you would be here. I knew I would find you.”

  “Then why didn’t you stop me before I came in?” Willow asks.

  “You can’t change the future, silly,” Angeline says, smiling. “You would have gotten in whether I tried to stop you or not. It’s your fate.”

  “Are you saying you can’t change anything you dream?” Willow asks.

  Angeline laughs again. “Oh, little things. Like if you know someone is going to ask you for something, you can hand it to them before they ask. Or if someone’s going to get hurt, you can get them a Band-Aid before it happens. So it’s not just fun, it’s also useful a lot of times. But big things, no, you can’t change those. If you even try, you get a terrible headache.”

  Willow thinks on this. What does “small things” mean? If she had a hockey game the next day, would she know when someone was going to try a shot and be able to save it? Would she know when Wisp was going to ask an embarrassing question and stop him?

  Wisp!

  She has completely forgotten her brother.

  “I have to go,” she says, more to herself than to the girl who blocks her way.

  “I know.” Angeline smirks even as she steps to the side.

  * * *

  When Willow gets to the hospital, her mother is waiting for her.

  “Wisp needs to stay the night,” she says. “Dr. Dawson is going to watch him. We can get him tomorrow.”

  Willow’s mind is still reeling with all that Angeline has told her.

  Some things she gets. She understands now why Layla and James were already there with the truck today: they knew Wisp would need them. And she now knows why Dr. Dawson was outside the hospital waiting for them. Dr. Dawson knew too.

  But there are bigger questions that Willow still needs answers to.

  “Mom?” she says, hoping to talk to her mother about what she has learned. She wonders if her mother already knows it all or if she only knows some of it. She must know a little or Cora’s words in the kitchen wouldn’t make sense.

  “Willow,” her mother says. “Please save any questions about Wisp for tomorrow. I’m too tired to talk tonight.”

  Willow nods, though she never meant to ask questions about Wisp. She wanted to ask about the berries. But she realizes that it’s true: it’s never good to approach her mother when Wisp is ill. Now is not a good time to discuss what Willow has discovered and what her mother might know. Tomorrow, in the light of day, will be better. Her mother will be more willing to talk then.

  So Willow stays silent, her mind still full of questions, trudging along behind her mother back through the snow toward Cora’s. As she walks, Willow shoves her hands in her pockets. Her fingers find the berry she stole nesting there. The berry seems to radiate heat. She can almost feel its life pulse beating in her own insides. And then and there, Willow makes a decision.

  Fear and exhilaration twine themselves together deep in her gut. But she won’t back down. Not tonight.

  Willow will figure this out on her own.

  Tonight, she will pop that berry into her mouth. Tonight, she will discover just how this town’s magic works. Tonight, Willow is going to dream her future.

  Willow waits for her mother to fall deep into sleep. As she lies there in the dark, her mind flits from thought to thought, worries bashing against each other like waves in a storm against a rocky coastline.

  How many times has her mother warned Willow and her brother not to take chances that might put them at risk? How many times has her father told them both to use their heads? And isn’t eating fruit from a supposedly magical bush, especially when you’ve been warned against it, a stupid idea?

  Willow is no great risk taker. Before Wisp got ill, that was always his role in the family. If it were Wisp wondering about the magic of Kismet, he would have already eaten a bushel of those berries.

  Not Willow. As a hockey goalie, she is constantly analyzing angles.

  And yet, she is no weakling. And she wants to know the truth.

  According to Angeline, the people of Kismet eat these berries all the time, every night, every day of their lives. Why would Willow be the only one to have a problem with it? Then again, she isn’t thirteen. Maybe there’s something important about being that age.

  She wrestles with these thoughts until her mother drops into a breathing rhythm that indicates Willow could play a tuba next to their bed and her mother would dream on without so much as a twitch.

  And so Willow must decide. If she is going to eat a berry and dream her next day, it must be done now. She slides from the bed and tiptoes toward where her coat hangs on a hook. She digs into the pocket and pulls the berry out. In the dim light from the bathroom down the hallway, where Cora has set a night-light for the comfort of her guests, the berry’s Caribbean-colored gold-blues and greens sparkle up at Willow.

  Come, they seem to say. Come taste me.

  Willow sighs, and in that sigh, she hears her longing. The berry is beautiful, and its smell is so appealing—the mixture of lavender and honey seems to float in the air and fills her senses with a feeling of peace and comfort. She cannot help herself. The pull is too strong. Her hand lifts the berry to her mouth. She takes a deep breath, shuts her eyes, and pops it in.

  The taste of the berry explodes in her mouth, surprising her with a mixture of all her favorite flavors rather than her favorite scents—chocolate and peppermint, caramel and salt. She reels from the intensity of it, overwhelmed with its sweetness. And then it hits her—hard. The drowsiness. She can feel herself being lulled, almost tugged into slumber.

  She staggers back to her bed and falls down beside her mother. And she slips into a sleep so deep and so vivid that she knows, even as she tumbles into it, that she will long for it again when she wakes.

  The dream the berries bring is bright and runs quickly through her head. She wakes and dresses, chatting with her mother. Though she cannot hear the exact words they are saying, she senses their harmony, sees her mother’s reaction to her words. She sees herself helping Cora prepare breakfast. As Willow moves about the kitchen, her foot finds a puddle of water. She falls down hard, wincing as her hip hits the floor. Later, she and her mother head to the hospital, Willow still favoring one hip. But the pain seems to disappear when she sees that Wisp is all smiles and ready to go home. It takes a few hours, but at last, they head back. Topher is with them, and he and his mother help Willow and her mom get Wisp settled again at Cora’s.

  But the day ends with a surprise—one that, even in her dream-filled state, makes Willow squirm with embarrassment. And even as she turns and mumbles in her sleep, she asks herself: Will this really happen tomorrow? Will I really do that?

  * * *

  Willow wakes, relieved to find that she is still alive and that the berry wasn’t poisonous. She is ready to see if it is truly magical. Willow normally can’t remember her dreams, but today she remembers every detail—even the one that curls her toes and makes a pit form in her stomach.

  As she lies in bed, it suddenly occurs to her why Cora always says “Sweet dreams” at the end of the night, why Layla called the same thing to them on their first night in Kismet. Willow almost laughs as she thinks of this.

  When her mom wakes, Willow rises with her. They chat as they dress, just as Willow dreamt. There is a feeling of comfort in watching h
er mother move about the room in a way Willow has already foreseen, performing tasks she already knows her mother will do. There is a sense of relief, knowing that today, at least, she and her mother will not fight. Her berry dream has brought about a wonderful sense of restfulness, and she eats it up like pudding on a spoon.

  They head downstairs, finding Cora in the kitchen. Cora smiles at Willow, just as Willow knew she would. Cora hands Willow a grapefruit, and Willow sections her half. As she goes to grab a plate, she pauses. She remembers her dream last night, the way she fell and hurt her hip.

  So she walks slowly to the table. After all, if she knows beforehand that she is to fall, why not stop it from happening? Isn’t that the beauty of the berry?

  When she sees the water, she simply steps around the puddle waiting to trip her up. She almost laughs out loud with surprise and delight when she doesn’t slip.

  The day progresses just as Willow knows it will. And she finds that she enjoys knowing what is to come. It is like reading a beloved book for the tenth time and finding an old friend there again.

  She likes knowing James and Layla will pick them up, offering them a ride, as she and her mother trudge through the snow toward the hospital late in the afternoon. She likes knowing she will see the colonel snowshoeing his way around town, and that he will salute them as they drive by.

  She finds she is more patient at the hospital, knowing what is to come. Where normally, the amount of paperwork that accompanies Wisp’s release from a hospital drives her almost mad, the time it takes today barely registers.

  She and Wisp play several games of Clue as they wait to be cleared. Of course, Willow already knows who the killer is, so she needs not wait the entire round to make a guess and win. She almost laughs out loud when she sees Wisp’s frustration. He can’t figure out how she can keep guessing correctly so early in the game.

  The nurse stops by to see what Wisp wants for dinner.

  “He’ll have the chicken soup,” Willow says.

  “Hey,” Wisp says. “How did you know that’s what I wanted?”

  Willow taps her head and grins. “Just smart, I guess.”

  She thinks of all the other ways she can surprise Wisp down the road if she continues to eat these berries. She can hand him clothes he wants to wear before he asks. She can play the magician and tell him the suit and number of a card he holds in his hand. She cannot wait to baffle and amaze him.

  After supper, their mom comes in the room. All the paperwork has been completed. Evening falls as they pack Wisp up and prepare to take him home.

  Dr. Dawson offers to drive them. When Topher arrives to help, Willow’s mouth goes dry as she meets his eyes. In all the excitement over knowing her day, she forgot her evening.

  “Wisp is going to be all right,” Topher tells her as they push him in a wheelchair and follow Willow’s mom and Dr. Dawson toward the hospital exit. “I promise.”

  He does not need to promise. As Cora once knew, Willow too knows that Wisp will be fine today. Still, she appreciates Topher’s trying to soothe her.

  They all climb into the Dawsons’ SUV and drive back to Cora’s. Willow helps Dr. Dawson and her mother carry Wisp upstairs.

  Finally, they get Wisp settled.

  “Go on downstairs, Willow,” her mom says. “Keep Topher company. It’s late, but Dr. Dawson has a few things to do here before we’re finished.”

  “It’s okay,” Willow says quickly. “I can help you.”

  She is nervous about what she saw in her dream last night.

  “No,” her mother says. “Go on down. Don’t leave Topher alone.”

  “Should I wake Cora?” Willow asks. Cora shuffling around downstairs might change things.

  Her mother shakes her head. “Absolutely not. Let that woman sleep. Now go.”

  Willow avoided slipping today. She guessed the Clue murderer again and again before she had all the cards in her hand. Maybe she can change this part of the night too. But does she want to? She’s not sure.

  Slowly, Willow walks down the stairs. Topher smiles at her, and her heart beats, beats.

  “I’m glad Wisp’s okay,” Topher says to Willow.

  Willow looks him in the eye, assessing. “You knew it would be all right. Did you eat your berry last night?”

  Topher’s mouth drops open. “My mom told me your mom hadn’t told you about that yet.”

  “I have other sources,” Willow says, but she does not elaborate. She isn’t about to tell him that she is a thief, given to breaking in where she isn’t wanted, stealing and eating things she isn’t meant to eat.

  Topher lets out a laugh. “Well then, you should know. I’m not thirteen yet.”

  “Oh, but you are,” she says, laughing. “You’re thirteen right now. It’s twelve-oh-one.”

  At her words, Topher’s face falls, and Willow stands there, puzzled, as she was last night when she dreamt this, as to why that might be.

  “Aren’t you glad it’s your birthday?” she asks. “Aren’t you glad to be part of a town that knows its future?”

  Topher bites his lip. “Sure,” he says.

  But Willow can hear uncertainty in his voice, and for some reason she can’t fathom, she sees sadness in his eyes, as she did last night in her visions.

  He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired. Great way to start a birthday celebration day, eh?”

  Willow feels her face redden. She has seen herself do it in the dream. She knows it will make him happy. But still she hesitates, backing away a bit to think.

  But as she does, a pain shoots through her head, a pain so intense she almost cannot catch her breath.

  Topher moves closer to her. “Willow, are you okay?”

  With his nearness, the pain in her head begins to subside a bit.

  And Willow realizes in that moment that this must be one of those “big things” Angeline was talking about, the ones that cannot be changed, the ones that give you terrible headaches. The berry has predicted this fate for her. She cannot escape it.

  She takes a deep breath, knowing it will be all right. He will not reject her. The berry has shown her how delighted he will be. And yet she still grows warm as she steps toward Topher, shaking with nervousness.

  The pain in her head lessens as she places her hands on Topher’s shoulders and lifts herself up on her tippy-toes.

  And the pain completely disappears as she gives Topher Dawson a kiss. Right there. Right in Cora’s hallway, Willow kisses a boy.

  “Happy birthday, Topher,” Willow whispers.

  “Wow,” Topher breathes with surprise, finally smiling, as Willow knew he would. “Wow.”

  And Willow knows that while she may have been nervous, perhaps the berry was right. Willow has given Topher Dawson a perfect first gift for his thirteenth birthday.

  After everyone leaves, Willow runs on light feet up the stairs to her bedroom, her mind all Topher-sodden.

  Her mother has fallen asleep in a chair, exhaustion lines etched on her face. Tomorrow, they will have some deep discussing to do, now that Willow knows the magic of Kismet.

  “Willow?”

  It is Wisp, awake, as she had known he would be. Willow goes to his side, and he swings open his blanket. Willow slides in next to him. Wisp puts his head on her chest, and Willow sighs. Though she didn’t hear the next words that are to be said, she knows from the way she looked in her berry dream that the next conversation is going to be a tough one, one that will make her sad.

  They lie there for a while, all soft breathing, all brother-sister coziness.

  “I want to go home,” Wisp finally whispers into the dark, and Willow’s free-flying heart is brought abruptly back to its cage. “I’m so tired of all these tests and things.”

  “I know,” she says, still wishing to dodge this conversation. But when she eve
n thinks about avoiding it, the pain in her head begins again.

  “I miss Dad,” Wisp says.

  “I do too,” Willow says. “I’ll call him tomorrow and see if he’ll come up here.”

  Even as she says this, she doubts her father will override her mother and drive up. But the pain in her head subsides even more, giving her sweet relief. And she knows now that the magic is not going to let her change this conversation either. She has promised her brother something she doubts their father will deliver, but still, she will try. She is fated to have this talk with her brother, like it or not. This conversation is not a “little thing.”

  “Yes, please,” Wisp says.

  Willow feels her brother’s tense limbs loosen beside her, and she realizes that perhaps it is for the best. Today, she has given two gifts away: the gift of a first kiss to Topher and the gift of a promise to Wisp.

  “Don’t you want to go home too?” Wisp asks.

  Willow bites her lip. Does she want to go home? If he’d asked her last night, she would have said yes. Now she is not so sure. Seeing your future is alluring, and would certainly relieve a lot of the stress their family feels these days.

  “I don’t know,” Willow says. “It’s kind of nice here.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like it here a lot. It’s just I’m so…,” Wisp says, then pauses. “…tired,” he finishes.

  “I know,” Willow manages to choke out.

  “I wish…” He stops again.

  “What?” Willow asks. If her brother wants anything she can get him, she will move mountains to do it.

  “I wish she’d stop,” he says wearily. “I wish I could find a way to make her stop trying.”

  Willow’s heart breaks in silence. There is nothing she can do to bring him this—this unachievable thing that he most wants. If her dad could not convince her mother, Willow has no chance. All she can do is offer him sisterly support, sibling understanding.

  “Me too,” Willow whispers to him. “Me too.”