Ruth Anne returned several minutes later, her arms overflowing with books that she spread out across the dining room table.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll be reading in the dark?” I asked, nodding to the flickering candelabra overhead.
She pulled two flashlights from the pockets of her cargo jeans. “I’ve come prepared.”
She set her things down and joined me near the window. Her lips curled as Michael massaged Merry’s shoulders.
“Gag me,” she said, shaking her head.
“Amen,” I replied, chancing one last glance before closing the curtains.
“How’s Jack doing?” Ruth Anne asked, tickling my son’s chin.
“Jack?”
“As in ‘Jack’––the clown that pops out of the box.”
“Please don’t call him Jack, either.”
“Fine, but he’s gonna get tired of being known as ‘kid’ around here if you don’t pick a nickname. I’m running out.”
“It’s Montana, Ruth Anne.”
“Montana Ruth Anne. Now that’s a good name. Just drop the first part.”
She returned to her work, shuffling the books around the table and unpacking a shoebox filled with papers and pens.
“Can you watch Montana for about twenty minutes?” I asked, putting him in his swing near the table. I cranked it three times, and his legs and arms flailed in happy surprise.
“As long as he’s properly harnessed and his diaper is dry.”
“Check to both.”
She reached over and tickled his chin again, quickly retracting her hand when it was covered in drool. “Geez, Louise! If Monty ain’t spewing from one opening, he’s leaking from another.” She waved me away. “I got this.”
“Thanks. I really need a break. He’s been so needy lately.”
“That’s because you never put him down.”
I sighed and nodded, knowing she was right. I went to the stairs, pausing by the window, wondering if I should look again.
“I can have Michael neutered,” Ruth Anne called to me. “I know a man at the animal shelter. Just say the word.”
“Trust me, it’s tempting. But he’ll still be able to talk.”
“He can probably split his tongue too, like a Myna Bird.” My sister scratched her head, wriggling the pencil tucked behind her ear. “Wait. I think that’s to make them talk. Maybe there’s a reverse procedure?”
“Let’s just lock him in the basement and be done with it,” Eve declared, barging through the front door and removing her designer sunglasses. She shook out her long hair and tossed her sweater onto the back of the sofa. “We can say the sounds are from ghosts. We could even make a few bucks off it, if we market it right.”
“That would put us on the news,” I said.
Eve undressed, right in the living room, stripping down to her matching bra and panties. She then removed a sequined dress from her oversized bag. She held it up, along with a feathered headband. “I found these in Aunt Dora’s attic. Aren’t they to die for?”
As quickly as she stripped, she donned the costume, looking impossibly beautiful.
I gave Ruth Anne a thorough inspection. She was wearing her favorite t-shirt, the one with the picture of the hairy creature from Star Wars. Her jeans were clean, and so were her sneakers.
I glanced from one sister to the other. “What’s going on?”
They exchanged glances. “Just playing some games tonight,” Ruth Anne answered cheerfully. “You’re invited, of course.”
Games? We weren’t really a game-playing family. Still, it beat the boredom that came with our magick-free lives.
“Maybe,” I answered tentatively. “I’m going to take a long, hot bath first. Twenty minutes with Mr. Bubble and I should be right as rain.”
“Be off then,” Ruth Anne said, waving me away. “But if your kid’s got a new name by the time you get out, it’s on you.”
IT WAS THE first real bath I’d had in a long time and I reveled in the warm, sudsy water. It was also the first time I really looked at my post-mommy body in its entirety. My breasts were both engorged and loose, and my skin sagged around the bones. Even my toenails were a mess, as if someone had come at them with a wood chipper but hadn’t finished the job.
I sighed, sinking further into the tub. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about attracting a man in my current state––and all the troubles that came with it. Perhaps I’d stop combing my hair and shaving my legs to further the effect? Then on some distant date, a scientist might see me wandering the woods and think he’d stumbled upon the missing link.
The idea held some appeal. I could start my own matriarchal tribe. We’d run around topless and flabby and hairy, with just one token man around to keep our village alive.
Once again, my eyes drifted to my ring finger and my fantasy ended abruptly.
I didn’t want another man. Even an imaginary one.
I wanted Shane.
I thought about retrieving the ring from its burial plot, but it was a constant reminder of my pain. Maybe someday, but I wasn’t there yet. I might be in the “acceptance stage,” but that was only out of necessity to be a good mother.
I returned my thoughts to the present. I was bone tired. I closed my eyes. My muscles relaxed. And so did my mind.
I let down my guard.
Even if something happened to me, I knew that Michael and my sisters would protect Montana. With their own lives, if necessary.
FOURTEEN
Born to be Wild
MAGGIE MAE…
I opened my eyes. I was standing in the thick of the woods, darkness cloaking me like a cape. The cold air touched my bare shoulders. An owl hooted nearby, echoed by a dozen other hoots from the converging trees.
Where am I?
The last thing I remembered was taking a bath at Sister House. Was I dreaming? None of this looked familiar.
I pinched my wrist. If this was a dream, it was a very real one. I shivered, half from fear, half from the chill air.
Maggie!
The voice called to me again, more urgently now. I cocked my head, listening. It sounded far away, carried by the trees.
MAGGIE!
The voice echoed all around me.
“Where are you?” I asked.
Maggie...
This time the voice was a whisper, and I recognized it.
“Shane!”
I ran, blindly searching. But there was no one, just me and the endless towering trees. “I’m here, Shane!” I raced aimlessly in no particular direction. “I won’t let you go!”
I’m coming for you, Maggie. I’m coming.
His spirit should be searching for the light, not trying to find me! But in that moment I didn’t care. All I wanted was to have Shane with me, no matter where we were.
“Stay with me Shane!” I begged.
A grayish-white flower petal twisted down from the sky and I grabbed it, midair. An asphodel petal, like the one Merry had given me to chew on the day I buried the ring. She had said it would link us together across the planes.
Maggieeeeee...
The voice was fading now, picked up by the wind and whisked away.
The trees pulled away, as well.
It was as if a curtain had fallen and the theatre lights dimmed, leaving me alone in the dark.
And then the rain came, soaking me to the bone.
I WAS NOT sobbing in the woods with the rain pouring down on me. I was still in the bath. The water had turned cold and the bubbles were gone.
I quickly got out of the tub and wrapped myself in a towel. My knees shook so hard I could barely stand. I splashed water from the sink onto my face, trying to recall the dream.
Shane’s voice had called to me in the woods. It was so real; it couldn’t have just been a flight of nocturnal fantasy. He was a dreamwalker, but could he cross the realm of the dead, too?
Shaking the confusion from my head, I pulled the plug in the tub. Swimming towards the drain was a flash
of wavy dull gray.
A petal from an asphodel.
“Oh, God!” I plucked the petal from the water and touched it to my cheek. “I’m not letting you go,” I promised. “I never will.”
“Knock, knock.” Merry opened the door slowly.
I closed my hand around the flower and smiled innocently, clearing my thoughts so she couldn’t read me. “Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Thought I’d check on you. You’ve been in here awhile.”
“Yeah?” I wrapped my hair in a towel, turning away from her. But it was too late. She saw my face, and immediately turned on the faucet, then handed me a Dixie cup filled with water. “What’s wrong?”
“I-uh-I think I heard Shane. I fell asleep in the bathtub and I could have sworn I heard him calling to me. Merry, it was so real.” I tapped the sink with my finger. “Like he was here, with us.”
“Oh, honey!” Merry handed me my robe. “That’s natural. It happens all the time when we lose someone. Our brains just aren’t always ready to accept it.”
“You mean I’m back in the denial stage again?”
She chewed on her lip and thought. “Frank said we go through these stages forever. The closer we were to someone and the more unexpectedly they pass, the harder it is. Our brains can play all kinds of crazy games with us, so that we don’t have to face reality. It’s a survival mechanism.”
“Merry, I don’t want him to go.” I sniffed, not opening my hand.
“I know, honey. None of us did. But I can’t imagine how tough it is for you.” She rubbed my shoulder and handed me a tissue.
I gave her a wan smile. “Well, at least Frank was good for something––latent therapy for your crazy sister.”
“You are not crazy. You are a young woman who lost the man she loved, all while trying to parent an infant. You’re the bravest woman I know.”
“Really?” My heart lightened. Brave beat the hell out of insane. It gave me hope.
“Yes.” She dabbed at my eyes with another tissue. “I’ve got your back. No matter what.”
I nodded, feeling undeserving after our argument. “I got yours too, if you ever need it.”
“Oh, trust me, I will! I’m one pin shy of a Frank voodoo doll.”
“I’ll loan you one.” I winked and we laughed, though there was an edge to our laughter as we briefly considered the idea.
“Anyway,” she continued. “We’re playing a game. Want to join?” She took my hand, the one not holding the asphodel, and some of the pain in my heart melted at her touch.
“Yes, sounds fun.”
“Good.”
In that way we had apologized to each other, without either of us saying anything. But someday I’d give her a real apology, or at least a very nice card.
“Now finish drying off,” Merry said, opening the door. “Then come to my room. I have something special I want you to wear.”
I scrunched my face but nodded anyway. I really didn’t want to be alone at the moment.
I EMERGED FROM Merry’s room wearing the purple, velvet, full-length gown that she had given me. It smelled like moth balls and Mother. “I feel ridiculous,” I said, lifting my arms to flap the bell sleeves. Merry carried the train behind me.
“You look regal,” she corrected.
“I look like an eggplant or a very ripe avocado. What game are we playing? Guess the vegetable?”
“Technically, they are both fruits.” Ruth Anne’s voice called from the dining area as we descended the stairs. “But it’s a common mistake. That whole food pyramid kind of screwed us up.”
“What are you getting me into?” I whispered to Merry, who wore a long white airy gown herself.
“It’ll be fun, Maggie. You’ll see.”
The others were there, sitting around the dining table––Eve, Ruth Anne, and Michael. I groaned at the last face, stationed behind a fortress of cardboard at the head of the table. He had on his reading glasses and a fistful of pencils and dice.
“This doesn’t look fun at all,” I said, giving him a once over. “Where’s Montana?”
His swing was empty and so was his carrier. Ruth Anne pointed to a blanket on the floor near Michael’s feet. Montana was on his belly, his head lifted and his fingers scrunching up the corners of the fabric.
“Don’t worry. Peter’s in good hands,” Ruth Anne said.
“Peter?”
“Peter the pumpkin eater, of nursery rhyme fame. His head has the look of a jack o lantern.”
“It does not!” I lied. “And his name is Montana.”
She spread her hands. “We can go with Pete, if that’s easier.”
“Shut it, Ruth Anne. You’re going to give my son a complex.”
“Well, then, he’ll have earned his place in this family.”
I inspected her attire. She had changed clothes and now wore all green, from stockings to hat. “Peter Pan called,” I said. “He wants his pixie back.”
“Har har,” she answered, not looking up from the sheet of paper she was frantically doodling on.
Eve sat next to her, her head also bowed over a piece of paper. She wore her flapper dress, though the feathers on her headband drooped. She fanned herself, claiming that it was too hot in the room to concentrate.
Michael finally looked up from his task and smiled. “Why, Maggie. It’s nice of you to join us. Have a seat.” He beckoned towards the chair beside him, his teeth gleaming white against his tanned skin. He was handsome, I begrudgingly admitted as I took my chair, pulling it as far from him as I could without knocking into Merry.
Merry handed me a paper attached to a clipboard.
“Lucia, the Defensive Mage?” I asked, reading from the top. “What are we doing?”
“Role playing, Mags,” Ruth Anne said. “We’re about to burst into the Dark Castle to rescue the village wise man from a tribe of goblins and an evil queen. But we’re pretty weak.” She cocked her head towards Eve. “Our bard here doesn’t want to use her song spells. She just wants to complain that there’s no stage for her to perform.”
Eve lifted her paper, shaking it. “I have three spells, Ruth Anne. Three! If I waste them, I’m worthless.”
“You should be used to that,” her sister smirked.
“Look, you said I’d get to play a famous actress in this creepy game. I’m still waiting. Until then, no spells.” She dropped the paper and sat back in her chair, her arms crossed.
“I’m the priest,” Merry said demurely. “Priestess, I suppose.”
“And an awesome one,” Michael said, looking up again from behind his screen. “You’ve already saved the party twice with your healing berries.”
I glanced at Merry, and then again at Michael. “Stay away from my sister’s fruit,” I cautioned.
He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m just the narrator of our little story. What Merry uses her... berries... for, is none of my business.”
Merry blushed, laughed, then hid behind her paper.
“I’m the ranger,” Ruth Anne said, flexing her muscles. She pointed to a stick figure drawing at the top of her paper. The caricature wielded something resembling a cupid’s bow. “I hunt, fight with a sword, talk to the trees, track...”
The last word dropped from her mouth like marbles spilling out of a bag. The others snapped their heads in her direction, and then mine.
Track. Just like Shane.
The dream returned to me. I had transferred the flower petal from my hand to my cleavage when I changed clothes, and now desperately wanted to retrieve it, as a reminder that we were still linked.
“Sorry, Mags,” Ruth Anne said, removing her glasses. “I open my mouth and stupid comes out.”
“It’s alright,” I said. “Let’s just play.” I looked at Lucia the Defensive Mage’s stats. According to the chart, she wasn’t strong, but she was smart. Unfortunately, she also had the health of a fruit fly. Just like me. “So, what do I do?” I asked, resigned to play this out.
Michael
pushed his cardboard screen to the side, then stood to stretch. “Lucia is a powerful mage. She uses magic to help her teammates.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can’t get away from magic, can I?”
He shrugged. “They voted and thought this character would suit you. I don’t make the rules. I just operate under them.”
“Here’s your spells,” Merry said, handing me index cards. “You have three to start: Light, Telekinesis, and Protective Bubble.”
“What am I supposed to do with these?”
Merry’s eyes sparkled. “Whatever you want to do.”
We played the game for several hours. I was lost at first, but soon got the hang of it. Ruth Anne’s ranger led us through a labyrinth towards a castle, where we were assaulted by ugly creatures with big eyes and distended stomachs.
Eve complained all the while, still refusing to use her spells because she needed them for her celebratory performance in the village square afterwards. To her credit, she did bonk several creatures on their heads with her microphone, despite Ruth Anne’s declaration that there were no such devices in this time period. At this, Eve argued that there also no such things as goblins, either.
By the time we reached the center of the labyrinth, and the evil queen who held the wise man captive, Eve and I were both caught up in the story.
“As you enter the chamber, you are struck by the image of the regal queen sitting atop her throne. She regards you with clinical amusement.” Michael showed us a picture of a platinum-haired woman swathed in gold feathers, with eyes the color of stars. Her features were symmetrically perfect, but there was an air of wickedness in the arch of her brows and thrust of her chin.
“She’s too beautiful to kill,” Eve said reverently.
“She’s a kidnapper,” Ruth Anne grinned, cocking her imaginary bow. “She needs to die. I ready my weapon.”
“Wait, Ruth Anne.” Merry stopped her. “She’s a sorceress. Do you really think it will be that easy?”
“Dunno. But I’m gonna try.”
“Go ahead,” Michael said, handing her a large lopsided dice, a smile rooting at the corners of his mouth.
The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) Page 11
