Sea-Witch
Page 9
CHAPTER FOUR
I wasn't sure if I'd suddenly become sea-sick, or if I simply wasn't feeling well because I'd just realized the grandma I hadn't seen in over five years was one-hundred percent crazy. I shook my head. “There are no such things as witches.” But as I said it, I shifted my gaze over the railing to the water below. The cauldrons of churned water were bubbling higher, reaching up the side of the ship, beckoning.
“Stop it, Nessa.”
I snapped my eyes back to her. “I’m not doing anything.”
She stepped closer, pressing her face to mine, whispering. “There is one reason, and one reason only, why you must come to the island with me: if you don’t learn how to control your powers, you’ll be discovered. And if you’re discovered, they’ll come after you: governments, hunters, and those who think you’re putting our kind at risk. Now take a deep breath, calm down, and come inside with me.”
Grandma wrapped five boney fingers around my upper arm, trying to guide me away. I wanted to throw her off, to shake off everything she said and go my own way, but I could feel the eyes of strangers on me. And if anything of what she said was true…“What do you mean our kind?” I felt my eyebrows knit in frustration. “I really don’t understand why you’re lying to me. My parents are normal. Dad was normal.” My throat caught as I mentioned my father. There was no way he’d been a witch.
“I’m not lying to you. Yes, you’re parents are regular humans. But you’re not. Do yourself a favour: take a deep breath and picture a rainbow, a kitten, a chocolate—whatever will calm you down.” She leaned closer to me. “Everything will be alright, Nessa.”
I forced myself to breathe the way Marnie would tell me to, deeply in and deeply out, calming myself down. Not because it was what Grandma wanted, but because I didn’t like the way strangers were looking at me. Thinking of Dad made me wear my grief on my face. I hated the looks of sympathy I’d been getting for weeks. Slowly, I regained my composure.
The churning around the base of the ship slowed. Grandma let go of my arm. She reached up to adjust the strap on her heavy-duty fabric purse, the kind that old ladies who traveled a lot always carried. “Why don't we go inside? Maybe you’d like a cup of tea to calm your nerves?”
I opened and closed my mouth, at a complete loss. I wanted to demand the truth. I wasn’t a witch…was I? Maybe tea was a good idea. I needed something to clear my head.
I followed Grandma silently into the ship’s interior. My stomach rumbled with hunger when I spotted the cafeteria. I grabbed what I wanted and quickly thanked Grandma, disappearing before she finished paying. I wanted, no, I needed an hour alone to think things over. I took my bottle of orange juice and a fruit and cheese plate, and went down one floor to the lounge, which was nothing more than a room full of uncomfortable chairs. I picked the darkest corner and sat down in the middle of an empty row, digging out my iPod and the vampire novel I had yet to start reading. All I needed right now was to not think. Not think about Dad, Mom, the move, my hair, the witch thing…
“That's quite beautiful hair you've got.”
I looked up. An older man with salt-and-pepper hair was standing beside me, casting a shadow over my book.
“Th-” I almost said it. I almost thanked him for commenting on the awful red hair that had found it's way out from under my hat—again.
“It's not often you see people with hair like yours.” He smiled at me, but his eyes were shifty. Magazine type horror-stories I'd read about girls who talked to strange men in strange places popped into my head.
I nodded, dropped my book in my lap and focused my attention on my iPod, slipping a headphone into my ear.
“Is it natural?”
“Sorry, what?” I pulled the headphone out, annoyed.
“You're hair, is that your natural colour?” The man gazed directly at me, piercing my eyes. My breath caught in my throat. His pupils were tiny pricks of black in grey irises that were so pale they were almost non-existent, giving him an alien appearance.
“No, just a bad dye job.” I muttered. This guy obviously doesn’t know how to read body language.
“So, where are you going?” He continued to stare intensely at my hair.
I tucked the loose strands away. “Tofino.”
“Is that where you live?”
“I wish it wasn't.” I looked around the half-empty seating area. Why had I been so quick to leave Grandma behind?
“So, what part of town do you live in?”
Whoa. I began shoving my belongings back into my purse. “I didn’t say I live there.” I stood up, tossing my purse over my shoulder.
His hand snapped out, wrapping around my wrist. “I’m just a traveller looking for tips from locals, that’s all.” He didn’t blink when he spoke. His body was eerily steady—something like a mannequin, or the Plastics from Doctor Who
“Well, I don’t have any. I’m from Vancouver.” I tried to pull my arm from him but he didn’t let go. He gripped harder. My skin began to burn. “Let me go,” I said, my breath ragged.
“Nessa? What’s going on?”
As quick as lightening the man released me, turning toward Grandma, who’d just come down the stairs into the lounge. “The girl was a bit unsteady. Tiny bit of seasickness, I’d say. Should go away shortly.” He slid out of the aisle and vanished up the stairs.
“Nessa?” Grandma asked.
I shook my head. “I’m okay. He was just a bit creepy, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? Maybe I should go report him to security.” Grandma stared at the space the man had vacated, her eyes narrowed.
“If you want,” I said, pushing the incident out of my mind. I didn’t need anything more to think about. The pain of losing Dad was enough to fill me up—or empty me out—I wasn’t sure which. Losing Mom was almost as bad. It was all I had room for. I sat back down in my seat and pulled out my book. “I don’t think he’ll come back. Not with you here.” I opened up my book and began reading. Any other world had to be better than this one.