A Town Bewitched

by Suzanne de Montigny

  “Except for the scratches and the old case?”

  “Yes, well it is an antique.”

  My mind reels with the knowledge of what’s really been going on. I ponder her words for a while, then dig my hands in my hips. “Okay, so you’re a spirit then, but what did you do to the town? I’ve never seen them so crazy about anything. You even had the cool crowd step dancing. You have to admit, you bewitched them … or something.”

  She laughs again. “Nope. It’s just great music.”

  My mouth drops. “What? You’re telling me a whole town went bonkers like that because they liked the music?”

  She nods, a smile broadening her lips. “As they did a hundred and fifty years ago. I merely gave them what they needed.”

  I contemplate her words. How could I have not seen that? Didn’t I see it in Charlotte’s eyes, in Mom’s enthusiasm, even when Dylan performed at the concert? Why was I so blind? I missed out on a lot of over the stupid violin in Kristoff’s shop, and because I didn’t want to share Uncle Jack. And sadly, I have to admit, I really do like Celtic music.

  “And the other towns?” I ask. “You’ve been doing three and four month gigs on and off. I saw it on-line.”

  “The same. They needed music.”

  “And so they sent you?”

  She raises her eyebrows. “Mm-hm.”

  I nod, satisfied, but there’s something Kate isn’t telling me, and I have to know. I stare directly into her pale blue eyes.

  “So why were you so interested in me?” I ask. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but it was a little creepy.”

  Kate makes herself comfortable beside me as though settling herself for a long story. “You really want to know?”

  “Yeah. Like why didn’t you just leave me alone? I mean, I wasn’t exactly polite.”

  She pauses a moment, and then answers. “Because you’re my great-great-great-granddaughter, and I was sent to protect you.”

  Goosebumps run up and down my flesh at her words.

  “By who?” I ask.

  “Your father. That’s why I showed up at the funeral. We were talking. He was there.”

  I feel my eyes growing wide. Shivering, I hug myself before continuing. “But I don’t know any McDonoughs,” I say, my voice cautious, thinking maybe I’m hallucinating again.

  She smiles. “Your mother was adopted, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say, “but she couldn’t find her birth mother because the woman didn’t leave her name. She just left her baby there on the doorstep. Mom put in a request, but no one ever answered.”

  Kate leans back. “That’s because Melody died a couple of years after she was born. You see, she played in a rock band and was on the road a lot. Her long-time boyfriend got tired of her being away all the time and walked out of her life. Then after they broke up, Melody discovered she was pregnant. And since she didn’t feel she could provide a stable home for a child, she gave her baby girl up for adoption.”

  “That must have been hard,” I say.

  “It was. She cried for days. Then two years later, her bus crashed, and she perished in the flames.”

  “Ohhh.”

  Kate continues. “You may have heard of her band. It was called the Sockhoppers.”

  I feel my face light up. “No way! They were big back in the eighties – around here, anyway. Mom used to listen to them all the time until she started in on this fiddling thing.”

  She nods. “Not surprising. It was probably Melody answering your mom’s request in her own way. Melody was my great-granddaughter and carried the family talent down all the way to you and Dylan.”

  I stare out at the stars, thinking about her words, and then frown. “So what were you protecting me from?”

  Her eyes grow serious. “There’s been a huge threat to your family. You’ve seen his work.”

  I think for a moment. “The tombstone? But I saw you running away from the cemetery. I was sure it was you.”

  Kate shakes her head. “He had just painted the tombstone and was watching you.”

  My stomach twists with fear. “The dead eagle, the desecration of the church, the medical building? It’s all him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was that why you came and knocked on our door when Mom and Dylan were in Chilliwack seeing a movie?”

  “He was getting too close, and I wanted to warn you. I thought if I tried talking to you, you might listen, but you hid from me, and I knew I couldn’t force it.”

  My cheeks warm. She had known I was there all along.

  “Then Charlotte showed up, and I knew you’d be okay since your mom was coming home soon.”

  “But what about the time we painted the sign and you came out of the woods and scared us?”

  “He was hiding in the same clump of trees you and Charlotte were in. You were both in grave danger. I wanted to warn you, but you took off from the concert so fast that night I couldn’t, so I did the next best thing.”

  “But everyone says you were at the reception. How could you be in two places at once?”

  She lets out her ringing laugh again. “Simple. I excused myself and went to the lady’s room. No one knew I was gone.”

  “I don’t get it.” I shrug.

  “Well, in a way, it’s kind of like teleporting. All I have to do is think about you, and I’m there.”

  My head spins as I take in her words, each new fact astonishing me.

  “But how did you know it was me at the pub on Halloween night?”

  Kate sighs and shakes her head. “Because I could see inside of you. Even though you were dressed in a clown costume, I knew all the hurt you were suffering, and that’s what I saw.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and I know all about Peter and Charlotte too.”

  My mouth drops open. “You do?”

  “I’m a spirit, Kira. I know a lot of things.”

  “So the time I had a lesson with Mr. Bachinsky, and you were standing in the woods watching me, you knew I had been crying?”

  Kate shakes her head. “That wasn’t me. It was him. Then two nights ago, I knew the man was in your yard, and you were alone. He was trying to lure you to the window by throwing rocks.”

  “And that’s when you made a quick getaway from the pub to protect me?”

  She nods. “No one even missed me.”

  “But why didn’t you come last night?” Anger wells up inside me. “If you knew I was in trouble, why did you leave me to this? Do you have any idea how cold and hungry I’ve been?”

  She sighs. “It was my final performance. I had to talk to Jack.” She pauses. “It took a really long time, and he took it quite hard.”

  “You mean he knows … about who you really are?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

  Kate’s eyes are sad as she nods.

  “What did he say?”

  She looks out into the dark night. “He cried.”

  “What? Uncle Jack?” I feel embarrassed for him.

  She nods again, staring into space.

  “He really loved you, didn’t he?”

  She pauses and then says, “I didn’t intend for that to happen.” Then she looks up at me and smiles. “And believe me, if I wasn’t a one hundred and fifty-year-old spirit, I would have probably fallen for him. Your Uncle Jack is one nice-looking man.”

  We both laugh.

  A feeling of guilt comes over me. “I’m sorry I was so against you and Uncle Jack … you know … as a couple.”

  “It’s okay. I’m a spirit, remember?”

  The wind blows up, carrying the sound of voices with it.

  Kate stands up abruptly, her eyes darting back and forth, listening.

  “What?” I ask, my heart quickening. “Is it him?”

  “No. It’s your rescuers. They’ll be here soon.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  “But before I go, I have something for you.”

  “What?”

  She holds her fi
ddle out to me. “Here. It’s yours. You’re its rightful heir.”

  I gasp. “The Golden Fiddle?”

  “Indeed.”

  I recall my dream where Dad tried to give me Kate’s fiddle, and how I had a hissy-fit. He was trying to tell me I already had a far greater violin than the Gold Violin.

  “Open it.”

  I take it from her, uncertain, and then undo the latch, hardly believing that I could own such an instrument. As in my dream, I lift it out delicately, but this time I place it on my shoulder and tune it.

  “Play it.”

  “But I don’t know how to fiddle.”

  “Yes you do. It’s your heritage. You’ve been hearing me play every night when I was at the pub, and even though you think you closed your mind to it, the music’s there.”

  I search my memory. Remembering Charlotte, I begin the Pelican Reel. The notes glide smooth as silk.

  “Oh, my gosh. I do know it!” I exclaim. Then I break into Brenda Stubbert’s Reel and another and another. “This is actually pretty easy, with a little practice.”

  “Not that easy,” Kate says. “There’s more to fiddling than playing the notes. There’s accents, trills, slides, double-stops, drones, and an endless variety of things. You’ll have to learn it all if you want to carry on the family tradition.”

  “I will, I promise. Thank you.” I pause. “And Kate?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  “I wish I had gotten to know you a lot sooner.” My eyes fill with tears.

  “Me too, but your life will pass by quickly. The time you have left is like a blink of an eye to me.” She turns and peers upward to where the path lies and says, “I’ve got to go. You’ll find the fiddle at the Stompin’ Boot Pub. I’ll leave a note saying it’s for you.”

  She stoops down and packs up her instrument. Then she hugs me and is gone.

  Chapter 35

  Rescued

  With Kate’s disappearance, the pain, thirst, cold, and hunger seize me again, and my teeth chatter violently. I moan and listen. The voices are moving further away. I need to find a way to get their attention.

  My mouth is so dry, it feels like my throat and tongue are glued together, but I force myself to call out.

  “Help!”

  The single word is barely audible, and the voices grow even more distant. Panicking, I try again, this time pushing out the shrillest ear-piercing scream I can muster.

  “Help! I’m down here on the ledge!”

  The voices stop dead, and for a moment, there’s an uncanny quiet. I wonder if I’ve imagined the whole thing. Then, a burst of excitement. A minute later, a bright light beams down on me.

  “Kira, is that you?”

  Relief floods through me at the sound of the voice. It’s Uncle Jack.

  “Yes!” I squeak.

  Cheers ring out from atop the cliff.

  “Kira, we’re coming down to get you, but we have to set up the ropes. Can you hold on?” he calls.

  “Yeah, but I’m dying of thirst. Can you send me some water first?”

  “You bet.”

  Again the voices bubble with excitement. A few minutes later, a bottle of water trails down the cliff, attached to a rope. I snatch it and down it in a few seconds.

  “That feels so much better,” I shout.

  It seems like forever before a member of Search and Rescue repels down and stands by my side.

  “Kira, I’m going to examine you, okay?”

  “Alright.”

  He slides his hands up and down my body, searching for injuries. I stifle a scream when his fingers touch my thigh.

  He stops and calls again. “Send the toboggan down. Her leg’s broken.” Then he speaks to me, his voice kind. “We’ll get you out of here in a jiffy, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  A few minutes later, the sound of metal scraping on rock announces the toboggan’s arrival.

  As he splints my leg, I ask, “So how did you finally find me?”

  He pauses for a moment as he wraps my thigh. “By your cellphone. We knew there was probably no reception for you to call for help, but we could see its light glowing for quite a way, and we could hear the fiddling music you were listening to as well. I guess phones seem louder at night when all is quiet. But then you turned it off, and we went straight past you.”

  I hesitate, taking in his words. “But I don’t have a cellphone.”

  “Then what the …” he says, furrowing his brow.

  A grin spreads across my face, but I stay silent.

  My stomach growls so loud I can hear it. “I’m so hungry. Got a granola bar by any chance?”

  “We can’t let you eat until you’ve had a medical examination – in case they need to do surgery,” says the man.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “Oh, well. I’ve been hungry this long. A while more won’t kill me, but when I get back, I want pizza … and macaroni and cheese … and roast beef …”

  The man chuckles, then calls up, “Kid’s got a sense of humour. She’s making jokes.”

  A burst of laughter sounds from above.

  When they’ve hauled me to the top of the cliff, I’m surrounded by concerned people. It’s kind of embarrassing, but I don’t really care. Then I see, of all people, Travis. My muscles tense knowing I’ll probably never hear the end of this at school. I brace myself for an insult, but instead, he smiles like he’s really trying to be nice. He looks pretty different from the jerk I know at school, dressed in his red Search and Rescue clothes. I remember Constable Douglas’ words about Travis doing community service.

  So this is what he’s been doing? Saving people’s lives?

  My eyes search his. “Thanks, Travis.”

  He looks down at his feet for a moment, then returns my gaze. “It’s nothing. Everyone’s been really worried about you. Kids have been texting back and forth. I figured if I helped find you, it might make up for what I did before.”

  Even in the dark, I can see his eyes water. Mine do too. Blinking back the tears, I offer a brave smile. “Being a hero suits you well.”

  Travis breaks into an awkward grin. “Thanks.” He turns away and wipes a sleeve across his eyes.

  They carry me down the mountain and load me into a waiting ambulance where they wrap me in a hot blanket. It feels so good to be warm again. I long for my own bed, but know it’ll be a while before I’m allowed to go home. When I get to Chilliwack General Hospital, the emergency room doctor examines me, then sends me by helicopter all the way to Children’s Hospital in Vancouver where they operate successfully on my leg.

  The next morning, while I wait for my first meal, my stomach rumbling, Mom and Dylan arrive. They rush to my bedside.

  “Mom?” I whimper, and break into tears. “I’m so sorry I didn’t go with you to Granville Island.”

  Mom’s eyelids are blinking fast. “It’s okay. And I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you were trying to tell me what happened the other night. I just assumed you were staying with Charlotte.”

  “No, I figured I could stay on my own. I was wrong.”

  She gathers me into her arms and holds me close, her face wet with tears.

  “We were so terrified when we got the news in the middle of the night. Then, the next night, when they still hadn’t found you, we thought you were a goner. And then I dreamt about Dad. He kept shouting that we had to keep looking.”

  Goosebumps rise on my arm. “Mom, I don’t mean to freak you out, but I dreamt the same thing.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “Really?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  We share a look, our eyes as round as an owl’s.

  “How strange,” she says.

  Dylan pulls something out of his pocket and gives it to me. “I brought you a present from Granville Island.”

  Looking down at what he holds in his hand, my eyes light up. It’s one of Dylan’s really old chocolates wrapped in pink.

  “Thank you!” I exclaim. Opening it, I gobble it down in seconds
.

  Noticing a fancy white bag, I ask, “What’s that?”

  Dylan’s eyes shine as he pulls out a brand new shiny iPad.

  “Wow!” I cry. “How’d you get that?”

  “I made so much money busking, and there was an electronics store right by Granville Island, so I bought it.”

  “Holy! How much did you make anyway?” I ask, not at all jealous anymore.

  “Five hundred dollars in two days! I’m never going to stop fiddling.”

  “Five hundred! Maybe we should start a duo.”

  “But you don’t fiddle.” He says, settling on the chair beside my bed.

  “I do now.” I say, raising my eyebrows and pursing my lips.

  “But I thought you’d never play again unless you got the Gold Violin.”

  “I did get the Gold Violin. It just looks a bit different, that’s all.”

  He looks puzzled.

  “Kate left me her fiddle – the Golden Fiddle. And you can bet we’ll all be playing together from now on.”

  Mom’s eyes look hopeful. “And your ARCT?”

  “I started learning the pieces while you were away,” I say. “I think I can be ready in time for the exam in June.”

  She lets out a whoop and gives me another tearful squeeze. “Oh, honey, I’m so proud of you.” After a hug that lasts a whole minute, she lets me go, then reaches behind her. “By the way, I picked up a little something for you this morning.” She hands me a white bag.

  I peek inside and scream. “An iPhone? Oh, Mom, you’re the greatest.”

  “I should have given you one a long time ago, but I was too stubborn.” She casts her eyes down.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” I say.

  “And I bought one for myself too.” She takes out a phone all decked in the latest accessories. “I figure it’s time I joined the 21st century.”

  I laugh out loud. “Cool! Guess we’ll be texting.” I give her a playful wink.

  She returns my look with a wary eye.

  When the Morins arrive, Charlotte flies to my side and wraps her arms around me. Her tears soak the shoulder of my hospital gown.

  “I was so scared,” she squeaks between sobs. “I thought I’d never see you again. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”