“Our life is a joke,” she finished.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Her mother crossed her arms, her face and arms drooping.
Maggie was prepared for her mother’s anger, but not her disappointment. She wanted to crawl under the rock she sat on.
Miss Sasha studied her other daughters. “Do you feel the same? Is our life is a joke to you, too?”
Eve looked down and Merry said nothing.
“I see,” their mother continued, far calmer than Maggie would have expected. “Well, I release you all, then. Maggie and Eve you are absolved of any future festival activities. You shall stay, go to school, and help out in the shop until you are of age. After that, do whatever you like. Merry, I wish you and Frank the best.”
Miss Sasha stood and gathered her skirt.
“...But don’t come crying to me.” She looked at each of them in turn. “When the darkness comes. Remember you were warned.”
With that, Miss Sasha disappeared down the path they had all come from.
Alone.
Harvest Home, Dark Root, Oregon
October 31, 2013
I was up with the ravens, watching them through my bedroom window as I slipped off my robe and pulled on the long, dark dress Eve had purchased for me.
The birds pecked at the table, fighting over invisible crumbs. When they felt me watching them, they turned, twelve black, unblinking eyes boring into me. I stared back, me against them, until a gust of wind ruffled their feathers and sent them flapping away. The smallest one turned his head, mid-air, as if to say it would return.
I shivered and closed the curtain.
The dress Eve had bought was several inches too wide and a foot too short.
I resisted the urge to grumble. I would only have to wear it today, then I could send it back to whatever thrift shop Eve had found it in. I pushed my feet into my black, satin slippers, then went downstairs.
Aunt Dora was standing in the kitchen entryway, waiting, arms crossed.
“Maggie, can I have a word wit’ ya?” she said.
I nodded, but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this conversation. We had not spoken since the incident two days earlier, and I had no idea what she wanted to say. I followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. There was a stack of pancakes waiting for us along with two jars of her homemade preserves.
“Eve must be gone already,” I said, trying to make small talk as I placed a pancake on my plate. “I was going to talk to her about this dress, but...”
“Aye, dat she is. She wanted ta get up early an’ work on da float.” Aunt Dora’s eyes fixed on me, feeling me out. “I thought dis would be a good time ta catch ya, before ya head out.”
I moved my food around on my plate, listening.
“I shouldn’ o’ got my ire up wit’ ya. It wasn’t right. It’s just...well, Maggie. Der are things ya don’t know. Things we kep’ from ya. From all o’ ya. Not ta be mean. But because we had ta. ‘Til da time was right.”
I took a bite, chewing slowly.
Things they wanted to tell us when the time was right?
Aunt Dora poured herself a cup of tea. “Ta calm my nerves,” she said, her smile tense. I watched her add a long pour of honey to her drink. “...I can’t tell ya e’erything. Dat’s not my place. Dat’s yer ma’s.” Aunt Dora nodded, as if to confirm to herself that a chain of command had to be followed, no matter what her personal opinion on the matter. “...But I can let ya in on a few things.”
A tremor reached her hands and fingers, and the tea sloshed out of her cup.
I gently took the tea from her and placed it on the table. “Go on,” I said.
“Ya girls were all special,” she said, wringing her hands, her eyes darting around the room as if she thought we were being watched. “We knew dat, from da moment each o’ ya was born. But ya, Maggie Mae...ya were a force. Had da stronges’ powers o’ dem all. Yer ma thought she could tame ya, channel it. But like all children do, ya had yer own feelings about things. Ya were a wilder, and no matter what anyone says, dat’s not a bad thing. Ya just wern’t tamable.”
Aunt Dora’s eyes drooped and her face followed.
“I was a handful,” I agreed.
“Ya certainly were. Gave us fits! But ya were loved.” Aunt Dora paused, fanning herself with her hand. A fly landed on her plate and she shooed it away. “Ya were yer mother’s favorite. Maybe it was because da two o’ ya are so much alike. Full o’ pride and stubbornness, not wantin’ anyone’ ta tell ya what ta do.”
I had never considered myself to be like my mother. The thought made me uncomfortable and I pushed my plate to the side of the table.
“Yer mother was jus’ in o’er her head. It’s always easy ta raise da little ones but when dey get ol’er, dat’s a whole other story. She tried, best she could. But when Ruth Anne left, it almos’ broke da poor woman. Ev’rything she worked for, gone. We’re lucky she had any sanity after dat...”
“She wasn’t the only one hurt when Ruth Anne left,” I said. “In one day, we lost a sister and our mother.”
Mother had never been a traditional parent, but at least while Ruth Anne was with us, Mother was engaged in our lives. I could forgive my mother most anything, but not her emotional absence.
Aunt Dora appraised me. “E’er seen me do any Magick?” she asked.
“No.” I had rarely seen any of them perform actual Magick, aside from the rituals that may or may not have worked.
Aunt Dora laughed, her body jiggling. “I'm about ta show ya something. Something I probably shoulda shown ya a long time ago. But ya weren’t ready den.”
“Am I ready now?”
“No, but time is short. Da layer between living an’ dead is lifted ta’day. Ta’morrow begins a long col’ winter.”
I nodded. I knew the legend. During this time the veil between worlds was lifted. Spirits moved freely between planes, spells were stronger, and a witch’s power was doubled.
“What does this mean for us?” I asked, still not following.
“Take my hands, Maggie. An’ whatever ya do, don’ let go. Don’ be afraid.” Aunt Dora’s eyes took on an ominous look that frightened me.
But I obeyed and reached for her hands across the table. We closed our eyes, listening to each other breathe, until our breaths synched up and we inhaled and exhaled in unison. My head dropped forward as I let go of the world. All I was aware of was my own breathing and that of my aunt’s.
I was suddenly transported to a green meadow, where the sun was shining. I laid on the grass and felt the earth beneath my body.
Feeling heavy and tired, I went to sleep.
“Maggie, wake up.” It was my aunt’s voice.
She was standing over me, dressed in a suit of white feathers. She reached for my hand and as our fingers touched, I felt a jolt of electricity so painful I cried out, trying to pull away. She held tight.
“...Stay with me, Maggie,” she said. “It will pass.”
The pain racked me, pulsing through my body, lighting up certain parts of my nervous system, shutting down others.
“Stop!” I tried to scream, but nothing came out of my mouth. The sensation was so excruciating that my mind began to go black.
Just as suddenly the pain subsided, and I was back at the kitchen table, floating up from my chair, slipping through the barriers of the roof, ascending into the clouds. I twisted and turned, taking in the sights of my house and then my town, both of which became specks of dust as I rose. I became aware of two heavy appendages at my side. Wings! Wings covered in gray feathers. I called out to my aunt, but the words emerged as a long, baleful whistle.
“I’m with you, Maggie,” Aunt Dora said, her voice emanating from a large white owl. She stretched her wings, sailing past me and looping through the universe.
Was I an owl, too?
I felt myself begin to drop, so I copied her moves and followed.
At first the feeling of suspension was terrifying, but as I worked at it, I di
scovered that it was also exciting. We were soaring, swooping, diving, looping, and screeching at the other birds we passed. We owned the sky.
Aunt Dora pointed her beak towards the sun and flew straight upwards. I chased her. When she reached the appropriate altitude, she stopped, hovering in the air. I was quickly beside her and we stayed there, quietly flapping our wings. We were too high up for the wind. We were too high up for anything.
She spun her head in an almost full circle as a large raven passed, its beady eyes mocking us, as if it knew we didn’t really belong.
“Remember, Maggie,” Aunt Dora said, her thoughts in my head. “Ravens are scavengers, but owls are hunters.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant and I was about to ask, when Aunt Dora pointed a feathered wing towards the earth. I opened my mouth in horror as I witnessed a wave the size of a skyscraper rolling across the ocean before crashing over the shore.
Buildings shattered like children’s toys. Cars were swallowed. People screamed, trying to run but unable to escape. The water took everything.
I pumped my wings, ready to dive down and pluck someone from the ocean, but the water receded just as quickly, leaving nothing behind.
“There is more,” Aunt Dora said with her unmoving beak. “This is only the beginning.”
We zipped through space, watching as storms and tornadoes and earthquakes claimed one piece of the world after another. So much pain and desperation.
A shadow slid over the earth.
“Make this stop!” I begged, as a tear slid from my eye and dropped a million feet onto the ground below. “Please!”
She bowed her head and barreled towards the earth. I followed, unsure if we would crash. I didn't care. I just wanted to be out of the nightmare.
Within seconds, I was back in the meadow, waking up from my nap. The sun was shining on my face. It was as if the bad had never happened.
“Maggie, ya okay?”
I blinked. This wasn’t the meadow. It was the kitchen at Harvest Home. We were both back. The world hadn’t ended. The tea was still hot. Aunt Dora released me.
“That was just a dream, right?” I said. “Or a bad trip? Please tell me that’s all that was?”
Aunt Dora shook her head. “Da future, Maggie. One version anyway.”
“But, how?”
“Da darkness comes, Maggie. It’s already pullin’ itself o’er da earth, devouring it up, piece by piece. We help keep da light.” She smiled, almost shyly, brushing a gray curl out of her face. “Dark Root is a stronghold. One o’ only a few.”
“What I saw isn’t for certain?”
“I think it will all happen one day, but we can push it back. A year. Two. Twenty. A hundred. No one knows. An’ da torch is being passed on ta ya, Maggie.”
How could this duty fall to someone like me? Why wasn’t Merry chosen? Merry, who was all good? “I’m glad you kept this from us, really,” I said. “...I had enough nightmares when I was a kid. But I’m not sure what keeping the light means, or what we can do about it.”
“It’s a tall order, Maggie, but ya start small. One light lights another, an’ pretty soon ya have a whole world o’ light. An’ remember. Ya aren’t alone. Ya have yer sisters and yer friends.” Aunt Dora stood, patted me on the shoulder and placed her tea cup in the sink. “Now, if ya will excuse me, I need rest. Dat took it outa me.”
“I will do my best,” I said.
“I know ya will. Now I think it’s time ya went an’ saw yer mother.”
“I will,” I promised. “Very soon.”
Twenty-Eight: Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves
“Aunt Maggie!” June Bug ran towards me, arms waving overhead as I entered Dip Stix Café. “You made it!”
“Of course I made it,” I said, looking apologetically at the others for being late.
It was already a few minutes past nine and I had spent the last hour shopping in Linsburg with Shane’s credit card, filling the cab of his pickup with as much candy, chips, and party supplies as it would hold. Now that Aunt Dora had shown me the possible future, I wanted to do everything in my power to help Dark Root prosper.
“Can you all help me unload?” I asked. “I had to park two blocks away. It’s hard to believe, but there’s not a single parking space left on Main Street.”
“That’s not a bad problem to have,” Shane said, locking the diner.
He, Paul, Merry, Eve and June Bug followed me out the vehicle. We dodged a boy chasing a white balloon that had gotten away.
“Looks like things are going pretty well,” I said, opening the truck door and passing out the supplies.
“You weren’t here for the apple riot,” Merry joked. “Things got ugly.”
“Yep, but fortunately Paul calmed the crowd with his sweet music,” Eve said, smiling at him over the brown paper sacks in her hands.
“I love The Eagles as much as the next person,” Paul sighed. “But if I get one more request for ‘Witchy Woman,’ I’m turning in my Don Henley Fan Club card...”
“Judging by the amount of people here already, I do believe we’re going to pull this thing off,” Shane said. “It may not be enough revenue to get us through the year like it did in the old days, but it’s a really good start.”
We dropped the supplies off at Dip Stix. There was already a line forming for Shane’s advertised Boo Biscuits and Ghoul Gravy brunch special. He sighed dramatically as he surveyed the work ahead of him.
“I guess I’ll have to do this without Paul,” he said. “Since he is going to be playing in the square all morning.”
“I can help,” June Bug said enthusiastically.
“Me too,” Merry chimed in. “I was married to Frank for eight years. I know how to serve people.”
Shane smiled and handed them each an apron. They put them on and vanished into the kitchen.
“Need me?” I asked, noticing how tall he was, a good six inches taller than me.
“You have other duties.” Shane pointed towards Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe. Eve was already there, changing the sign to ‘open.’ About two dozen women of all ages and shapes pushed their way inside.
“Palm reading duty. Got it.”
“Remember,” he said, handing me a pair of scissors. “The mayor’s going to call you out at some point for the ribbon cutting ceremony. Try and smile for the pictures, okay?”
I made a silly face and dropped the scissors into the deep pocket of my dress.
“Now put on your pointy hat and be a good witch,” he added.
I walked to my designated spot across the street. An A-frame chalkboard read: Free Palm Readings. I added: Tips Strongly Encouraged.
I groaned as I noticed the crystal ball on my table. Shane left no detail to the imagination.
I sat down and folded my hands, pausing for a moment to take in the town. Main Street was draped in twinkle lights and multi-colored balloons and streamers of orange and yellow. Small children trick-or-treated at the colorful booths that lined the sidewalk. Teenagers paraded around in outrageous costumes, trying to out-shock one another. Women sampled sweets from food carts and old men sat on benches, enjoying the cold air while talking about times past. The shops were all filling with customers.
“The Haunted House is now open!” the shop owner next door called out.
Passersby wandered into the bookstore that had been converted to a spook-house with a few cobwebs, candles, and paper ghosts.
Across the street, a shop owner was setting up a pie-eating competition and there were already three people lined up who looked like they would be strong contenders. A large bouncy house was set up near the bandstand and the shrill of children’s laughter filled the square. Pony rides were offered a few dozen yards off the street, the sickening-sweet smell of manure trying to overpower the pies. No one seemed to mind.
Eve came outside to tape up a large sign on the window that read, ‘Out of Mood Rings.’
I was filled with a sense of pride for my family, friends, and commun
ity.
But it wasn’t over.
Leah had promised to come with the anti-spell today. I had spent the previous evening searching for the ‘circle’ she was looking for, but still had no idea what she meant. It didn’t matter. I would get the spell from her one way or another.
To my left, I saw the Mayor ascend the orange-painted platform and take the microphone. He talked at length about our journey to bring back the festival and said that we would be having our official ribbon cutting ceremony in just fifteen minutes. In the meantime, he said, Paul would be playing us a few songs.
“Play ‘Witchy Woman!’” someone hollered.
Paul sighed and strummed on his guitar.
By three o’clock, I declared my booth officially closed. I folded up the card table and wiped down the chalkboard. The good news was that I had made over three hundred dollars in tips. The bad news was that I doubted I could ever touch another sweaty palm again.
“You have a knack for that,” Eve said, joining me on the sidewalk while she kept an eye on the shop. There were only two customers inside––older ladies we had known since childhood––and I was pretty sure Eve could overtake them if they tried to get away with any of her merchandise.
The day had passed without any sign of Leah.
Though I dreaded my confrontation with her, I was also afraid she wouldn’t show up. Without the anti-spell, Mother might sleep forever. My anxiety grew with each passing hour.
“You okay?” Eve asked, following my eyes down the road. “You seem more distant than usual.”
I felt guilty for not letting my sisters in on what had transpired between myself and Leah yesterday, but it would only worry Merry and anger Eve. Leah was my problem and I was going to handle it.
“I’m just getting hungry,” I said, sniffing at the air.
The scent of pumpkin pies, cinnamon apples, caramel corn and Shane’s ghoul gravy made my stomach growl. A little girl walked by carrying a big fluff of cotton candy and I was about to ask her where she found that when Shane showed up. He was carrying two Styrofoam food containers. He handed one to me and the other to Eve.
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