Rest in Peace Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 1

by Kris Johnston

  “The entire business will be a tribute to her, but the tea room will be special... it will be in honor of her. I can already see it, Roz,” he said quietly as he lost himself to the idea, “In the back of the building, a small, little room decorated in floral wallpaper with little round tables and winged chairs. Ladies wearing dresses and hats will sit there with their daughters, or sisters, and enjoy a special day together. They'll sip tea from delicate cups and nibble on petit-fours while classical music plays softly in that one, closed-off room.” He glanced up at me and grinned. “Before her accident, my mom loved having tea parties with her friends. It was a tradition for them. Every Sunday after church, they would have tea and share the latest gossip, and laugh.”

  “I love the idea of that,” I said genuinely, “Coffee shops have taken over everywhere, you never see tea anymore, especially people having tea parties like that.”

  He nodded, “I like the idea of having one place where you can come, hang out, relax, enjoy some quality drinks and treats, and listen to music. I'm even thinking of having a reading section where people can leave their old, favorite books for others to enjoy and share while they're there.”

  “It sounds like you've got a great idea,” I said, meaning every word. “And what will the name of your shop be?”

  He smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, or a cheerful one. It was the kind of smile that was laced with sadness and bittersweetness, with an underlying joy mixed in.

  “Charisma,” he said simply.

  I nodded, mulling it over in my head. “Charisma’s Coffee? It has a certain kind of quality to it! I like it!”

  He shook his head. “No, not Charisma’s Coffee. Just, Charisma. That's my mother’s name.”

  I met his eyes. They were full of pain, and yet full of hope, too. His eyes were brimming with emotions contradictory of one another. Pain, hope, joy, sadness, it was all there, plainly seen. I couldn't imagine how he felt, knowing his mother would pass soon when he'd been so close to her.

  It wasn't anything at all like what I'd experienced with Jill, because we never had a true mother-child relationship. But Drew had, with Charisma. And it was painfully obvious he was going to miss her once she was gone.

  I offered him a small, pitiful smile, and said, “It's perfect.”

  ***

  I went to bed shortly thereafter, knowing I was going to hate myself in the morning. As was my habit, I went into the bathroom to take my meds, and paused. I hadn't been taking them regularly. I didn't even know why my therapist, Lorna, felt like I still needed them. I'd come a long way since moving in with the Walters, and found I now had positive, constructive ways of dealing with my emotions.

  I removed the bottle of pills from my medicine cabinet, opened the lid, and poured them into the toilet. I no longer needed them. They had served their purpose, but I could handle it on my own, from here on out.

  Besides, there was always that nagging fear in the back of my head that I'd become an addict, like my mother. I would rather die right now than succumb to that insidious world.

  I fell asleep easily, and had a dream. I was standing in a small room filled with little tables and the smells of freshly brewed tea. A very young, maybe 6-year old Drew sat at a table, wearing a dapper little suit. Across from him was the most lovely African-American woman I'd ever seen. She wore her hair in long, light brown braids, and had thick, gold bangles lining both wrists. Beads and jewels of every color hung from her neck, and upon her head was a beautiful deep green, floppy hat. It had one peacock feather sticking out from its side. Her dress was green and yellow, and went down to the floor.

  She turned to me, and smiled. Her eyes were a deep, sparkling brown and her cheeks had a rosy hue to them.

  “Come join us, Rosalind,” she said, as she poured a third cup of tea.

  I obliged and took a seat. Drew reached out and took my hand.

  “I'm glad you're getting to meet my Mom,” he said softly in a little boy voice. “She's leaving me soon.”

  I nodded. “I know, and I'm sorry,” I whispered.

  “Enough of that nonsense!” Charisma said, “You know Mama will always be with you, Andrew.”

  “I know, Mama,” he said. “I'll just miss you, that's all.”

  She looked across the table at her son. “You've been missing me ever since the accident, baby. And let's be honest, I miss myself, too. It doesn't make me happy to call you my big brother when you visit me.”

  He sighed in his sweet, little boy way, and put his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand.

  “Andrew! Remove your elbow from the table this instant!” She admonished. “I know I raised you better than that!”

  Sheepishly, he obeyed.

  “Sorry, Ma,” he said.

  His voice had changed. Suddenly, he wasn't six years old anymore, he looked to be more like twelve or thirteen. I glanced from him to Charisma, and saw that she, too had changed. Instead of aging, however, she seemed to grow younger. When my dream had first begun, she looked to be around forty years old, but now she looked half that age.

  Neither of them seemed to notice it.

  “I want you to promise me you'll keep going when I'm gone,” she said.

  His eyes filled with tears. “I promise,” he said softly. “But I won't be happy about it. I don't want you to go.”

  “I don't want to leave you, baby,” she said sadly, “But it's my turn, now. I deserve to go to Heaven and be a whole person again, not this… shell… of the woman I used to be.”

  “I know, Mom,” he said, and then I heard his voice change once again. It had become stronger, deeper, and I looked at him. The same young man I had first met was now sitting where his younger self had been.

  I looked at Charisma. She was a child. The green and yellow dress now swam on her small form. The hat tilted at an awkward angle. The gold bangles fell easily from her thin wrists. She looked like a child playing dress-up, having tea parties and smiling in her make-believe world.

  “Don't forget about me, Andrew,” her little girl voice pleaded.

  “Never, Mom!” Drew said earnestly. “I love you forever and ever.”

  She grinned at him. “I love you too. Make me proud.”

  He stared into her eyes and nodded.

  “I promise,” he said.

  “Find yourself a nice young man to settle down with someday,” she said to him, winking.

  His mouth fell open. “Mom? You know?”

  She chuckled, “Oh my son, what do I care? I love you. It never had to be a secret. I'm only sorry you felt like you had to struggle with it alone.”

  He burst into laughter as tears rolled down his face. “I didn't struggle with my sexuality, Mom, I just didn't tell you because I didn't even know myself, until after your accident.”

  He reached forward and grabbed her hands, holding her little ones within his big, strong ones.

  Her little girl face smiled up at him, and she reached forward, caressing his cheek.

  “Be happy, Son,” she said simply.

  “You too, Mama,” he said.

  Then with a brilliant smile, she raised her hands above her and announced, “I'm ready!” A bright light glowed down upon her body and she sighed happily.

  “I love you, Andrew,” she whispered.

  And then, she was gone.

  CHAPTER 37

  The next morning, I awoke to the news that Drew’s mother had passed away in the night. He and Bonnie had left for the facility where she'd been kept when Drew received the call at four that morning. Mitch was taking the day off to go be with them after dropping me and Vincent off at school.

  I shouldn't have been surprised that she died the same night as my dream of her. And really, deep down, I wasn't. For whatever reason, my dreams had become glimpses into the world of all things spiritual and supernatural. It was a burden, not knowing for sure where my dreams would take me, and how much of them was real enough to cause fear. Yet, at the same time, it was also a gift, as I'd
experienced last night.

  I'd witnessed, through my dream, a beautiful moment between mother and son as their spirits said goodbye to one another. Whether Drew was conscious of it or not, I didn't know. Whether he had experienced the same dream I had or not, I wasn't going to ask. But I knew his spirit had been there, just as his mother’s had been, and I was sure Drew had to have some sort of peace now, even if he didn't know for sure where that peace came from.

  What I also witnessed was how terribly short life could be with our loved ones. As we rode silently to school that morning, my heart cried for Jimmy, and I knew I would never be able to find any sort of peace for myself unless his presence was with mine, where it belonged.

  I wondered if he'd had any sort of spiritual goodbye with his mother when he'd died. I wondered if she even grieved for him, or if his death was such an embarrassment to her perfect family life that she'd been relieved he had passed away. I wondered if he was missing me as desperately as I was missing him.

  And just like that, my heart grew hard and was filled with hatred for Parker. I decided I was no longer going to play nice. I wanted Jimmy back, and Parker was going to make that happen.

  Now.

  ***

  I didn't go to my locker or meet up with Odie, as I usually did. I went straight to the dirt bag’s locker instead. He was standing there amidst his buddies who, I knew now, we're actually his coven. I had no desire for a scene, but I was past the point of caring.

  I wanted Jimmy. It was simple as that.

  “Here's what's going to happen, warlock,” I said angrily, poking him in the chest with my finger, “You are going to remove the spell that keeps Jimmy away from me, and you're going to do it today!”

  With that, I turned on my heel and walked back the way I came, not giving him a chance to respond or open his mouth.

  Screw him.

  He had messed up my life way too much. He had taken the one person I needed, the one I loved, and closed off his presence so I could no longer see him or experience him. I didn't care if Jimmy was a ghost. He was still real, to me.

  And that was all that mattered.

  ***

  At lunchtime, the proverbial poo hit the fan.

  Parker walked into the cafeteria, flanked by two guys I recognized from the JV basketball team, Marty and Felix. All three of them were tall, strong, and dressed alike in different colored t-shirts and jeans. At first, they looked completely non-threatening.

  Until Parker looked at me.

  He nodded his chin in my direction, and the three of them strode purposefully toward the table where I sat with Odie.

  “Umm, Odie?” I said, trying to get her attention.

  “Hmm?” She asked, chewing on a sandwich and scrolling through her phone.

  “Odie!”

  She looked up at me. Her eyes followed mine, to the three giants making their way towards us.

  “Oh crap,” she mumbled. “What'd you do now?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw The Pastels jump up from their table and rush over to ours, surrounding me and Odie in a protective kind of half-circle.

  Devon and the girls stood around us, their backs to me and Odie, as Parker and his friends approached. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, grinning evilly at each of us.

  “Ooooh, goody! It's a face off!” He sneered.

  “What's your problem, Parker?” Devon demanded. She stood directly in front of me, only inches away, and I felt a slight charge in the air coming off of her.

  I looked around the cafeteria and saw several of the students had noticed the way The Pastels had rushed to me and Odie when Parker had come charging in. They were all watching with wide eyes, paying close attention.

  Parker noticed and stopped a few feet away.

  “It would behoove us all if we sat down together and resolved this like normal people,” he said calmly, “Before the innocent become subject to our powers.”

  A bit of the electricity coming from Devon seemed to wither, and her shoulders slightly sagged.

  “Fine,” she said firmly, “We sit. But if you so much as make a move, I will be sending fifty thousand volts straight to your black heart.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Tsk tsk. You'd compromise our magic in front of the entire student body? Isn't that the first rule of all covens? Not to let outsiders know of what you can do?”

  “Our rules are non-binding when you threaten one of our charges.”

  He tilted his head. “That's interesting to know,” he said. “Now come on, everyone's expecting a fight right here in the cafeteria, and I'm anxious to disappoint them.”

  Devon looked to Erica, Jess, Belle, and Cindy, and as if they were a single entity, they each nodded in agreement at the same time.

  One by one, Odie and I watched as everyone took a seat at our table. The benches were long enough to accommodate everyone with plenty of space, but Parker, of course, sat directly beside Odie, across from me. He kept his eyes on me the entire time as he fitted his long, sturdy frame onto the cafeteria bench. Marty and Felix did not sit, they stood behind their “boss.”

  Devon sat to my left and Cindy to my right, while the rest of the Pastels stood behind us. Seeing how they all took this stance of “sit down and talk while still being on the defense,” was like watching a weird high school play, the one where all the characters’ moves were choreographed and everyone knew what the other would do, before they did it.

  And it was in that moment I realized, it was highly possible they could all communicate telepathically. That probably did not bode well for me. I was not a psychic or a mind reader. I did, however, have a certain level of faith in my friends (as The Pastels had now become), so I made the decision to trust in them and not worry about the magical details.

  Besides, I had bigger fish to fry. And he sat right across from me.

  “Rosalind,” he began, “You made a demand of me today in front of a large portion of the student body that I cannot ignore.”

  Devon stiffened and looked at me. I shrank beneath her withering stare.

  “What? Roz, what did you say?” She demanded.

  “I want Jimmy back,” I said, fighting to keep the emotion out of my voice. “I need him. We belong together.”

  “So you approach me at my locker,” Parker said, “Where I'm surrounded by a ton of non-magical students, and you out me as a warlock, and demand that I remove the spell?”

  Cindy gasped beside me. “You didn't, Roz!”

  I nodded. “So what?” I asked defensively. “He's done something with my boyfriend and I want him back!” I glared at Parker. “Now!”

  “Roz,” Devon said calmly, “You cannot speak of spells and magic in public like that. It's the code, for all of us.”

  “I'm not part of your coven!” I exclaimed.

  “Shh! Keep your voice down!” Erica whispered behind me.

  “Fine,” Parker said quickly. “You want Jimmy back, no problem. I can lower the veil as easily as I raised it. But,” his eyes took on a devilish gleam, “It will cost you.”

  Warily, I glared at him, thinking it over. I had no intention of giving Parker anything he wanted, but it was worth asking about. Maybe, he’d request something small, something insignificant, which I could readily sacrifice. After all, for Jimmy, anything would be worth it. Almost anything.

  “Name your price,” I said softly.

  “Rosalind!” Jess exclaimed. “Don’t you dare!”

  Parker smirked at her, then grinned at me.

  “You want to see your love again, fine, but it requires a payment,” he glanced at each of The Pastels briefly before locking eyes with mine. “One kiss. That’s all I ask of you, and then you can see your precious Jimmy again.”

  “Not a chance,” I said immediately, and all my friends seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

  “What?” He asked, as if he was offended. “You didn’t seem to mind the last time we kissed.”

  He winked.

&
nbsp; My mouth dropped open for the smallest of seconds and then I began denying it.

  “I have never kissed you! I’d rather gouge my eyes out than let you kiss me!” I declared hotly.

  He chuckled and I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Oh I beg to disagree, Rosalind,” he said, “You were quite passionate when you kissed me back. I believe I left you panting.”

  I shook my head, no, as Odie stared at me with ever-growing eyes full of surprise.

  “Never!” I protested, and then as soon as the word left me, I remembered something.

  I had two missing hours from my first day of school here.

  “Is that what you did to me?” I demanded of the jerkface, “My first day here? Is that what happened in the library that I’ve never been able to remember?”

  He grimaced as all the others kept a close eye on him and listened intently.

  “Oh please, I didn’t kiss you your first day here,” he replied, “I just slipped a little spell over you to open up your secrets to me. I made you forget so that you wouldn’t feel embarrassed… You know, what with the past drug use, and all.”

  No.

  No, I couldn’t have. I wouldn’t have.

  “I didn’t tell you anything of my past,” I denied, but something inside me disagreed.

  Looking bored, he gave a wave of his hand and whispered, “Remember,” and it all came rushing back to me.

  I had spilled everything to him. My mother, Derek, Jimmy, the time they’d put heroin into my body, all of it. Every single, ugly, sordid detail I had experienced in my life, I’d poured it all out to him in the quiet, darkened little corner of the town library.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I muttered as my stomach was slammed with nausea and my body doubled over.

  Devon rubbed my back, “That’s the effects of his spells,” she said soothingly. “It’ll pass.”

  I wasn’t so sure. I was certain it was less of his spell, and more of the fact that I had shared my history with a guy who had been a complete stranger to me at the time.

  Odie watched me worriedly and said, “That doesn’t explain when you think she kissed you.”