Soulstice (The Souled Series)

by Diana Murdock

  “Definitely,” I said. “Besides, it’s a little late now.”

  She looked from me to the bank lady then back to me. Her chest rose and fell with a resolute sigh.

  “Okay.” She picked up the pen and scribbled her signature along the bottom of the page next to mine, signing ownership of my Audi over to the new owner.

  The loan manager smiled and, scooping up the paperwork, promised to return with my check.

  The intensity of Mom’s stare was too much to ignore. It seemed like she was looking for an opening into my thoughts. I raised my brows in a silent what? and returned her gaze.

  She brushed my overgrown bangs off my face. “So now what?” she asked. “Would you like a ride somewhere?”

  “No, it’s okay. It’ll be good to walk around for a while.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me why the sudden change?”

  My shoulders lifted and dropped, something I seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

  “I want my friends to like me, not the stuff that I have.” I looked at the only person I knew who was completely certain of herself, entirely comfortable with her abilities, and would never let anyone sway her. Yeah, I still wanted to be strong like her. “Maybe it’s your pagan influence that’s finally sinking in.”

  One brow lifted very, very slightly. “You know money doesn’t define our beliefs or spirituality.”

  I nodded. We were tree-hugging, Earth-loving, high-vibrating people who drove nice cars and lived on the lake. I knew it didn’t mean we weren’t in touch with the elements. But I used the parties, the clothes, and the cars as a cover to hide behind, and that shield was becoming threadbare in some places.

  Selling my Audi served two purposes: to see if the person my friends saw was good enough without it, and, probably more important, whether the face I saw every morning in the mirror was good enough without it.

  “It’s all right, Mom.” I grasped her hand and squeezed, hoping to reassure her. “I’m going to my bank and then check out a couple cars I saw in the paper. I’ll call you when I need a ride home.”

  Mom took in a large, slow breath as if filling her lungs with words she wanted to say, then let it out slowly, leaving the words unspoken. “Okay.” She smiled and her face relaxed. “Just let me know where you are.”

  I started to tell her not to worry when the bank lady returned and sat behind her desk. She stapled the papers together, and handed me my own set of documents with a check clipped to the top. “You’re all set.”

  And for the first time in a long while, I believed I was.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Under the florescent lights in my bathroom, the blue of my irises and the blonde wisps of hair that fell around my face screamed California girl, but I hadn’t been feeling so sunshiny the last few days. I ran my fingers through my hair. This would be the last time the strands would be coated with blonde. I squeezed them in my fists and let my decision sink in. I was going to be me, and only me. I wasn’t exactly certain where that might lead, but strength and conviction had found its way up to the surface.

  Conflicting emotions of not wanting to let go and wanting to move forward slammed against each other before melting together into a quiet acceptance. Still, the underlying disappointment of what I had become was overwhelmingly obvious in my face. I had ignored me for so long, but found it was easier to cry behind a mask than to explain what the problem is. I couldn’t tell Taylor, or anyone else, how I felt about my dad, about moving here, about wanting to learn the craft like my mom, and how much I missed listening to the rhythm of the Earth. They’d think I was nuts. Well, I was over that. I was about to make myself a huge target for them to ridicule if they needed to. I had no problem with that.

  “All right. Let’s do this,” I said to my reflection before I could change my mind. “Black hair it is.”

  In just over an hour, my hair was cut, colored, and blown dry. It wasn’t a great cut by a long shot, but years of my veil now lay in the trash, ready to be tossed out with the cotton balls and wadded-up Kleenex. I drew a thick line of black to harness the blue of my eyes, and black lipstick pulled my new look together.

  Every change I made was exciting, but not without a twinge of guilt. I had such an easy time letting go of the past, erasing the last six years of my life, but this time I wasn’t running from anything. I was ready to face my past head-on, ready to take it down if it tried to consume me again.

  Scooping a handful of clothes off the floor, I threw them into the hamper on my way to the closet. I flipped through dozens of colorful clothes that hung on the rack, and opted for the loosest-fitting black shirt I had. In the back of the closet I found a stash of clothes that I rarely wore – black jeans and black ankle boots. Those were gifts from Aunt Sarah that I had dismissed as too serious to wear. Now they seemed entirely appropriate. I grabbed a beanie on my way out and covered all but just a few strands of the new me.

  Black, the epitome of invisibility. After the last few years of being so colorful and loud, I needed some downtime. Today I was going for the stealth look.

  ~ ~ ~

  Though selling my car was the right choice for me, unveiling the Audi’s replacement officially to my friends was an entirely different matter.

  The ad claimed the car to be “gently used” but I wouldn’t have described it that way. When I first brought my little black Subaru home, it looked like it had been around the block more than a few times. The engine needed some work, but Jesse was going to fly up from Los Angeles to fix that.

  The afternoon was going to be a game changer. Between the car and my new choice of fashion, I was asking my friends to accept a lot all at once.

  I anticipated Taylor’s judgments, but then again maybe I was being too quick to judge. Maybe it wouldn’t matter to Taylor. I hoped not, but honestly, her attitude was beginning to annoy me. She behaved as if her family’s middle class status placed her above everyone. I could only imagine what she’d say about me now.

  ~ ~ ~

  I wasn’t surprised that Taylor didn’t rush out of her house when I pulled up to the curb. The living room curtains shifted a little as someone looked out at the street, but the front door never opened.

  I’m outside, I texted her.

  She came rushing out a minute later, but stopped, looking a bit confused, then scowled when Megan and Crystal ran into the back of her.

  I gave her a few seconds to look up and down the street for my Audi then let her off the hook by tapping on the horn.

  “Well, that’s impressive,” I said, shaking my head. The small, pathetic-sounding squeak that slipped out from underneath my hood was embarrassing, but well worth the look on Taylor’s face.

  The front passenger side window groaned all the way down. When I waved her over, her jaw went slack. It was a priceless moment to see her caught off guard.

  She closed the distance between her house and my car and leaned over to get a better look. Her gaze shuffled between me and the inside of the car, her eyes growing wider every second.

  Megan’s hand did a lousy job of covering her smirk.

  Taylor stood straight, looked at the others, then stuck her head inside the window again.

  “Alyx? What the hell? Is there a theme party at Skate Plaza I don’t know about?”

  “Are you getting in or not?” I asked, blatantly ignoring her question.

  Megan and Crystal climbed in the back seat without any hesitation, but Taylor blinked, as if clicking through her options. She finally let out a long, low sigh, yanked the door open, and got into the front seat.

  She pushed her hair off her face she said, “So. What happened to your car? When do you get it back?”

  “I don’t. I sold it,” I said.

  “Did your parents make you sell it?” Megan asked.

  Taylor’s eye widened. “Oh, my God! What did you do?”

  I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. Mom and I have never had any kind of disagreement, let alone me doing something horrible en
ough to justify selling my car.

  The seconds passed, leaning on the question that hung between us.

  I finally shrugged. “Nothing. It was my choice.”

  Taylor’s brows shot up. “Excuse me? You traded in your Audi for…” She seemed to be trying to choose her words carefully. “… this? Why?”

  Her incredulousness was such a joke. This all coming from a person who had no car, who depended on others for her transportation. You’d think she’d be grateful for any set of wheels. I’d definitely been spoiling her.

  “Oh, it’s not that bad, Taylor,” Crystal came to my rescue.

  We exchanged looks in the rear view mirror. “Thanks, Crys.”

  “But why?” Taylor asked again.

  “Because it was time for a change.”

  “You should paint it, Alyx,” Megan said. “You know, like white or something. Black is so… black.”

  Taylor leaned into the seat, her back barely touching the fabric. Her internal eww radar oozed from the lines of her frown.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the car, Taylor,” I said. “The carpets and seats were cleaned yesterday. And look,” I pointed to the fragrance tree that hung from the stereo knob. “Strawberry.”

  She tilted her head back and sniffed. “I guess it’s okay. And your clothes do match the color of your car…but your hair, too?” Taylor’s lips pressed into a tight line, probably to stop from saying anything more.

  I pulled my beanie down a little farther over my ears. “Yeah. My hair, too.”

  I tried to catch Crystal’s eye in the rear view mirror, but she looked away. Megan stayed quiet, too. This was going to be a long ride, and I wasn’t just talking about the trip to Coeur d’Alene.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “So what’s up with you? Why are you dressing so… Emo?”

  I looked down at my bare feet dangling over the water at City Beach, the wood planks of the dock warm under my thighs.

  The weather hadn’t heated up yet, but the sun drew the locals outside their homes and on their bikes and in their boats. The beach, though, was empty except for a few kids who didn’t mind the freezing water.

  Taylor leaned over and grabbed hold of my feet. “You’re Emo down to your toenails.”

  I peered at her from underneath my bangs. “I’m not Emo,” I said, pulling my feet back. “Just because I’m wearing black nail polish doesn’t mean I have repressed anger or anything.”

  “Then what are you?” Her eyes squinted ever so slightly and her mouth curled in a hint of a sneer.

  Good question. Well, I was mostly in the dark and still discovering who I was. I waited six years to wake up from what I had hoped was a bad dream. And now, with this metamorphosis underway, I had only one answer:

  “I’m me.” I buried her stare with my own. “I’m just me.”

  Taylor’s brows squished together as if she was expecting another response, something not quite so simple.

  “But everything about you has changed. I mean, your car, your clothes, your hair…” she said, leaning in to grab the ends of my midnight-black hair.

  “Does it bother you?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, letting the strands slip between her fingers.

  I expected some resistance and had even been prepared for the same treatment Mom got back in Illinois. So I pushed her further.

  “Do you still want to hang out with me, clothes and all?” From behind my cheap sunglasses, my gaze challenged her, grateful she couldn’t see the disappointment to the answer I knew would come.

  “Well, yeah.” Instead of looking at me, she focused on a passing boat. “Of course I do.”

  Heh. It’s amazing how those four little words – of course I do – could be so telling. I didn’t believe any one of them.

  ~ ~ ~

  I didn’t hear much from Taylor after that day at the dock. Her excuses to avoid me were creative, and I supposed plausible, but it boiled down to the one truth: she wanted to keep her distance. Which was fine with me. I didn’t have much room for the superficial bullshit and the knee-deep drama that followed her, anyway.

  At the same time, though, I was going to miss the others because, with the exit of Taylor, the rest of the group followed. The friend list of a misfit, misunderstood, dark Alyx, took a nosedive.

  I had the rest of the summer to get used to my unpopular status. I would have the next month to seriously learn from Mom again. It also freed me up to spend time with Jesse without Taylor or the others fawning all over him.

  As a brother, Jesse was awesome. Always was – even though the house fire ordeal put us on shaky ground for a while.

  I really missed him since he moved away. There was a time when my dad’s attitude isolated us from everyone. Making friends became too painful when Dad would find one thing after another wrong with them and they’d finally stayed away. Dad even tried to isolate Jesse from Mom and me, saying stuff like, “He’s a man’s man. I won’t have him doin’ any of that voodoo crap you women do.” Even after we stopped doing that “voodoo crap” when Dad was around, Jesse kept his distance to keep the peace. But I knew with every wink, every mischievous smile, Jesse was still on my side.

  Looking at him across the engine of my car, I could see why he was so successful in L.A. Though he never pursued the Craft, he still had the gift of intuitive touch. He could sense energy with his hands. That was one of the reasons he was so good at fixing cars, and why he was so popular with the women. More important than his California-tanned, gym-toned body, sun-streaked brown hair, and boyish smile, he knew how to make people feel good about themselves.

  Peeling off his grease-stained latex gloves, he gave me one of his winning smiles that showed off his adorable dimples. “Well, I can’t do much about the outside, but the inside purrs like a kitten now.”

  “This is so awesome, Jesse. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I skirted around the front of the car and met him halfway. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a big-brother hug, lifting me off my feet. The moment my feet touched the ground he pulled back and leveled his face with mine.

  “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his dimples quickly disappearing.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Just this sudden change.” His sweeping hand indicated everything about me. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like it. But from an Audi to an old Subaru… the make-up and clothes.”

  “Hey,” I held my hands up to block the words from permeating the space between us. “No dissin’ the car. And the clothes… well, they’re just more my style.”

  “Is this what your friends are wearing, too? Like Taylor?”

  I shook my head, toeing the garage floor with my shoe. “Nope. Only me. This isn’t her style.” I didn’t let him see my eye-roll because I didn’t want him to think I was being bitchy about it. Which I was. Totally. I thought I knew Taylor so well. I thought that she’d accept me for who I was no matter what. It wasn’t the first time I was wrong about someone. “Besides, she’s not really my friend anymore.”

  “Really?” Jesse scooped me up again and hugged me tight. “Well, I think you look great and that you’re the most amazing girl. Taylor doesn’t know what she’s giving up.”

  This time I held onto him a little longer and a little tighter than I normally would, soaking up the acceptance.

  He let me down again and kissed my forehead. “So, little sister. Aren’t you curious to hear what this motor sounds like now?” he said, jerking his head in the direction of my car.

  As if I needed a reminder.

  I knew without a doubt, he had done his magic on my engine. I couldn’t stop a smile from dominating my face. I ran to the driver’s side, threw open the door, and slid behind the wheel. Turning the key was like slicing through butter, and the motor turned over without a sound.

  Jesse eased the hood down and gently pressed on it until it clicked shut. Our eyes locked through the windshield. I couldn’t tell which one of us had the bigg
er smile.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sinking deeper in the seat and pushing my sunglasses snug against my face completed the invisibility factor for me. I’d gone into hiding until I completely split open the skin of my old self and peeled it away to let the raw, new skin heal.

  I drove down Oak Street, looking for a particular garage sale. I’d already scored some cool stuff earlier in the day – leggings, jackets, and scarves – all in my new favorite color of black. The clothes were more worn in and comfortable than the clothes I bought online. The prize find for the day was a camo backpack. I wasn’t sure what I would use it for, but it was such a steal, I couldn’t resist. Ha! Miss Popular turned Dark, toting around a camo backpack. Only in Idaho.

  I double checked the ad I circled in the newspaper. It said it was an estate sale. Apart from the creepiness of picking through a dead person’s belongings, you could usually find some cool and unusual things.

  Cars prowled the overcrowded street, the drivers rubber-necking as they eyed the layout of the yard. There was so much stuff. The owner probably never threw anything away.

  I pulled my car into a spot just as another car left, and turned the motor off.

  “Sorry,” I said to my car, patting the dashboard. “One last stop.”

  Tables had been placed on the driveway and in the garage. The first table had all sorts of shoes on it. I needed a couple more pairs of flats, which was exactly what the owner had a lot of. The shoes were a half size bigger than I wore, but I’d make it work.

  The table next to the shoes was weighed down with books. Lots of old books. My kind of books. Judging from the collection, the former lady of the house was up there in age. Scattered among the stacks of literary classics were books protected by fabric covers. I counted 18 of them, the titles covering subjects of numerology, tarot, occult, metaphysics, and magic. Notes in small, meticulous handwriting crowded the margins of the pages. Phrases that meant something to the reader were underscored. Over half the books were reprints of work published in the mid-1930s. Some things in this universe were timeless.