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Red Witch: Book Two of the Wizard Born Series

Page 7

by Geof Johnson

Melanie seemed to ponder it for a second, then shrugged. “Why not?” She switched the car off, and she and Fred got out and walked up the steps.

  Fred unlocked the door and opened it. “You want a soda or tea or something?” They walked into the living room.

  “Whatever you’re having.”

  Melanie sat on the sofa while Fred went into the kitchen. Melanie said, “Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

  “No, just me.” She grabbed two soda cans from the refrigerator and went back into the living room. “How about you?”

  “I have an older brother in college. He’s out in California so we don’t see him much.” Fred handed her a soda and Melanie said, “I like your house. What does your room look like?”

  “Girlie.” She laughed. “That’s how Jamie describes it.”

  “He’s been in your room?”

  “Not since we were younger. My dad would have a fit if he went in there now.” Fred stood. “Come on up and I’ll show you.”

  Melanie followed Fred, and as they walked up the stairs Fred said, “My dad has gotten super-duper over-protective since Jamie and I started dating, but when we were little, we spent tons of time together. I practically grew up at Jamie’s house.” She put her hand on the door knob to her bedroom. “I even spent the night over there once.”

  Melanie arched her eyebrows. “Really?”

  Fred pushed open her door. “We camped out in Jamie’s clubhouse while his dad slept in the bottom part. Jamie has a really cool clubhouse and backyard. You should see it sometime. I spent an awful lot of time there.” She paused for a moment and thought, and that may be why I’m a witch now, if I really am one. That’s where the old wizard died.

  “It’s funny,” Fred said, “but my two best friends have always been boys — Jamie and Rollie.”

  “Those are two good friends to have.” Melanie surveyed Fred’s room, a shrine to all things Fred. The colors were red, pink, and white. A couple of posters of women tap dancers were on the wall and there were little figurines scattered among the books on the shelves. One beside the bed caught Melanie’s eye. “That’s pretty.”

  Fred picked up the small glass sculpture and showed it to Melanie. “Jamie gave me this a few years ago. We call it the Dream Fairy. I kiss it every night before I go to sleep.”

  “I bet you’re sending him kisses.”

  “I am! Good guess.” Now I send him dreams. Strange.

  “I love this.” Melanie put her hand on one of the posts of the canopy bed. Stuffed animals were neatly arranged on the red satin comforter and the white bed skirt was trimmed with lace to match the canopy. She looked around the room and her gaze settled on Fred’s dresser. She walked to it and leaned closer to inspect some photos tucked into the mirror frame. “Is this you?”

  Fred joined her and said, “That’s me, Jamie, and Rollie when we were about ten or so. It was after one of our shows.”

  “You tap dance, right?”

  “Yeah. You can see Rollie’s ventriloquist’s dummy — he calls it Rufus — and Jamie’s got his magic wand in hand.”

  Melanie looked closely. “Y’all look so cute. I’ve never seen one of your shows before. Do you have any coming up?”

  “The Talent Search is next Saturday, but it’s in Asheville.”

  “I’ll come.” Melanie nodded emphatically. “I’ll make Michael drive so I don’t have to take my clunker.”

  Fred regarded Melanie’s earnest face. She really is a nice person. Wish I’d figured that out sooner. “Hey, um, you’re taking Latin 2 this semester, aren’t you? Do you want to study together for the test?”

  “The one on Monday? Sure. When?”

  “Why don’t you come over late Sunday afternoon and we can study for a while and you can stay for dinner.”

  “You sure that’ll be okay with your mom?”

  “No problem.”

  * * *

  “Fred, are you kidding?” Lisa said, eyebrows lowered in a look of total disbelief. “Melanie? The Melanie? Melanie who kissed Jamie? Your mortal enemy Melanie?”

  “She’s not that bad, Mom. In fact, she’s kinda nice, and she’s really smart, so she’ll be a big help as a study partner. Is it okay if she stays for dinner?”

  “Of course, but it seems so strange. Just over a month ago you were ready to strangle her.”

  “Yeah, well I got over it.”

  “I never knew you to be so forgiving.”

  “I’m maturing Mom. Get used to it.”

  * * *

  The road workout that day was the hardest Jamie had ever attempted, and when they finished, he felt like he’d been drained completely dry, a washcloth that someone had twisted and squeezed until every last drop had fallen into the sink. It seemed to take a toll on Bryce, too, because he was limping on the way to the locker room.

  “You okay?” Jamie asked as he trudged beside him.

  Bryce grimaced with every other step. “Yeah, just a little case of the shin splints, that’s all. Probably time to buy some new running shoes.”

  * * *

  Jamie heard Fred’s voice in his head. “Jamie, are you asleep?”

  “Huh?” I must be, he realized. “I think so. How are you talking to me? We’re not on the couch.” A moment later, he found himself lying on his back with his head in Fred’s lap, only they were in a meadow somewhere. The sunlight was warm and soft. Flowers and tall grasses swayed in the gentle breeze and a butterfly fluttered nearby.

  “How’s that?” Fred said.

  “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought about it and…I’m not sure.” She giggled. “It’s wonderful, though, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He watched the butterfly light on his knee, folding and unfolding its wings as if it were waving a silent hello. “How did you send your thoughts to me?”

  “I don’t know. I remember going to sleep thinking about how I hardly got to see you at all today, so I guess my subconscious somehow reached out to you.” She laughed and put her hand to her face. “Now I’m starting to sound like you.”

  “Fred, I think you definitely have power. You really are the Dream Fairy.” His smile was whimsical. “Isn’t that funny?”

  She frowned. “Not if that means I really am a witch.”

  “Fred, it’s not that bad. There were lots of witches where Eddan came from, and they weren’t like the witches in the movies. They were normal-looking women who just happened to have power.”

  “When I think of a witch, I think of and old hunch-backed crone with bad teeth and a big warty nose.”

  “I don’t think there are any like that.” He reached up and stroked her cheek. “But they might as well be, compared to you. You’re the most beautiful witch ever.”

  “Thanks, I guess.” Fred’s lower lip was out. “I don’t want to be a witch.”

  “Do you want to keep talking to me in our dreams?”

  “Of course I do!”

  “Then be happy. It’s fitting, anyway. I’m a wizard, and you’re a witch. We were made to be together.”

  At that Fred’s face brightened, and she bent to give him a kiss.

  Chapter 9

  Jamie watched another East Henderson High School runner pass on his right, and he stole a glance at Bryce, running on his left, his face tight with pain.

  “Go on!” Bryce waved one hand. “Don’t hang back with me.”

  “Still got time,” Jamie said between breaths. They ran on a trail through a small wooded area north of their rival’s school. The ground was soft and muddy in places from an overnight shower.

  “We need the points. Go on!”

  Jamie took one more look at his limping friend and reluctantly abandoned him, surging forward with a burst of speed. The lead runner’s too far ahead, he thought as he passed the closest boy. Maybe I can get second place.

  The course shifted to a street on a subdivision, and Jamie gained ground quickly, being a much stronger runner on asphalt. He rounded the curve a
nd passed another boy. The lead runner, from East Henderson, was in sight, but he was already turning onto the football practice field where the race’s finish line was set up. Jamie pumped as hard as he could, but the other boy crossed the flags before Jamie could close the gap.

  Jamie crossed the line and checked his watch. Unh. Not good. He glanced at his coach, standing nearby, whose expression said the same. He’s mad. Jamie walked around with his hands on top of his head, gasping as he watched Bryce struggle across the field to the finish, too far back to score any points. Bryce crossed the line and immediately looked at Jamie, shaking his head with disgust. He slowed to a walk, limping, his eyes and mouth pinched.

  “So much for finishing first and second every meet,” Bryce said, grunting as he walked with Jamie. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not that big a deal, Bryce.”

  “It is to me.”

  By this time, they had walked out near the middle of the field, past the edge of the throng. Jamie shook his head. “But why? You said you were shooting for a scholarship…but what for? Your dad makes plenty of money, doesn’t he?”

  Bryce looked at Jamie and worked his jaw for a moment before answering. “That’s just it. I’m tired of people thinking that. We’re not rich, by any stretch of the imagination, but we do okay. We have a nice house and stuff.” He ran one hand through his dark, sweaty hair. “But I want to do it on my own. I don’t want to ride on my dad’s coattails for the rest of my life. My sister’s doing that, and I don’t want to end up like her. She’s still in school, but she’s changed her major like, four times already. She’s just having a good time, spending Dad’s money and going to parties. She’s got a nice car and an apartment, but….” He shrugged. “No direction.”

  “Is that why you don’t like being called Richie Rich?”

  He nodded. “I’m tired of people looking at me like I’m a spoiled little rich kid.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, that’s ’cause you know me.” Bryce took another couple of steps, but the limp seemed worse. “I even got a part-time job now. I’m working at a gift shop down town.”

  “Which one?”

  “Unh unh. If I tell you, you’ll come in and try to embarrass me.”

  “Probably.” Jamie grinned. “But that’s cool. When do you work?”

  “Saturday and Sunday afternoons. It fits in with my schedule and gives me enough for spending and gas money. Don’t have to get it from my dad now.”

  “So you want a cross country scholarship? Your times are pretty good. You can probably get one.”

  “I’ve already had a couple of coaches call me, but they’re from division two schools. I’m holding out for a division one offer.” He took a few steps, grimacing as he walked. “But first I gotta get over these shin splints.”

  “Lemme have a look. I did some checking on the Internet, so I know a little about ’em now.” Jamie knelt beside Bryce and looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Hope nobody thinks this is gay or anything.”

  “At this point, I don’t care.”

  Jamie touched Bryce’s left shin. “Is this the spot?”

  “Yeah. Right there.”

  Jamie sent his magical mind inside Bryce’s leg, where the tendon joins the bone. This isn’t all that inflamed. He touched the other leg. “This one’s okay?”

  Bryce nodded, and Jamie looked inside. This one looks normal, too. He reached back to the injured leg and looked deeper. There’s something wrong with the bone. I think he has a stress fracture. Coach warned us about those.

  Jamie stood. “Uh, I’ve got this special cream at home that my Gramma gave me.” That’s a lie, but it’s all I can think of. “I used it this summer when my shins started hurting, and it took care of the pain.” Jamie snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Two days later, I was running again. You should stop by my house when I get off work and let me treat your leg.”

  “Why don’t you just let me borrow it?”

  What am I gonna say? Because I need to do magic on you? “Because there’s a special way to put it on, that’s why. Gramma showed me how.”

  Bryce looked dubious.

  “Really,” Jamie said. “You want to get it fixed or not?”

  “Yeah, of course. What time?”

  “One thirty.” That’ll give me time to stop at the drug store on the way home from work and pick up some sports rub. He’ll never know the difference.

  * * *

  Fred closed the front door and dropped her bag of dance gear by the stairs. “Mom, I’m back. You can use the car now.”

  “I’m in here, Honey,” her mother called from the kitchen.

  Fred walked in and found her at the table, drinking coffee and reading a cook book. She looked up at Fred. “How was your class?”

  “Fine. My little dancers are shaping up.” Fred pulled a chair out from under the table and sat across from her mother. I still don’t know how to say this, but I feel like I need to. “Mom, I’ve got something important to tell you.” Her mother looked at her expectantly, and Fred took a deep breath, then the words tumbled out. “Jamie thinks I’m a witch.”

  Her mother’s eyebrows dropped and she gave a little gasp. “No! Are you fighting?” She reached across the table and grabbed Fred’s hand. “You two seemed so happy last night.”

  “Not that kind of witch. A witch witch.” Fred made a scary face and wiggled her fingers at her mother, who only blinked back her, an uncomprehending look in her eyes.

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “For gosh sakes, Mom, yes! Jamie thinks I have some magical power. Not much, but some. I can talk to him in dreams.”

  “You probably just think you can.” She nodded sagely.

  “No, we can have a conversation in our sleep, and the next morning he can repeat it to me word for word, perfectly. He said he doesn’t have that power. Sorcerers can’t do it.” Fred leaned back in her chair and exhaled heavily. “It’s me. I’m doing it, not him.”

  “So how does that make you a witch?”

  “Jamie said that it shows that I have power, and if I had a spell book, I could perform the magic in it. He said that’s what witches do. Not Wiccan witches, but real witches, as he calls them.”

  “Well, there aren’t too many of those kind of books lying around, are there?”

  “He said there are plenty of them back on Eddan’s old world.”

  “Well, fine. Those are out of your reach.”

  “You don’t seem too concerned about this.”

  “It’s just a matter of semantics, Honey. I don’t think you’re a witch. Maybe a teeny tiny bit of magical power rubbed off from Jamie, but that’s all. Nothing to worry about. It’ll probably go away on its own.”

  Fred scowled and muttered, “It’s all your fault.”

  “Oh, because Rachel and I touched bellies when we were pregnant? I never would’ve done it if I’d known it would make you a witch.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Mom, you’re being sarcastic! I’m upset, and you’re not being very helpful.”

  “You mean, sympathetic.” She got up from her chair and stood next to Fred, stroking her hair as she spoke. “I don’t really believe it anyway. There’s probably another explanation.”

  Fred pushed her mother’s hand away. “No, there’s not. Jamie’s sure of it.”

  “Well…let’s just assume for a minute — and I’m not saying I believe it — let’s just assume that it’s true. A little tiny bit couldn’t be bad, right? Jamie’s been a sorcerer all his life, and he seems to have turned out okay. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve had a little magic in you all this time, too, and you’re fine…a little bossy sometimes, but you’re a good kid, Fred. Be happy.” She put her hand on Fred’s back. “You can visit with your sweetie day and night now. “Oh!” her hand went to her face. “When you visit him in your dreams, you’re not doing anything…like, you know….”

  Fred felt her face grow warm. “No, Mom. We mostly just han
g out in a meadow or on his couch. Wherever I want to be. I make the setting, it seems.”

  “A meadow? With flowers and everything?”

  Fred nodded.

  “That’s so romantic.” She sighed and patted Fred’s back. “But let’s not tell your father just yet. I don’t think it’s true, anyway.”

  “It’s true. Believe it.”

  “Still, let’s not tell him now. He’s having enough trouble dealing with you and Jamie being unchaperoned when you’re awake. I don’t know how he’ll handle it that you can see Jamie in your dreams.”

  Fred turned and took her mother’s hand. “Mom…it is pretty cool, though. I can hardly explain it, it’s so amazing. I can think about Jamie while I’m sleeping and…there he is, in my arms.” She shook her head slowly, then frowned. “Just don’t call me a witch.”

  * * *

  Jamie slammed the front door and hurried down the hall to the family room, where he found his father in the recliner, reading the paper.

  “Bryce called,” his father said without looking up. “He’s on his way.”

  “Great, just great,” Jamie muttered as he set a bag on the coffee table. “I’m not ready.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I had to stop at the drugstore on the way home from work and get some sports cream.”

  “Why couldn’t Bryce buy it himself?”

  Jamie pulled a tube and a small bottle of calcium tablets out of the bag. “The cream’s not doing anything. It’s just an excuse for me to put my hands on his leg long enough to do some magic on it.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t a healer.”

  “I’m not.” Jamie carried the empty bag into the kitchen and dropped it into the trash can. “But I’ve been researching his injury and I think I can fix it.” He opened a cabinet door and surveyed the contents. “But I need you to back me up on whatever I say, no matter how strange it sounds, okay?”

  His father put down the paper. “Okay. What are you looking for?”

  “A little jar to put this cream in so it won’t look store bought. I told him it’s Gramma’s home remedy.”

  “Look under the sink.” His father turned his head. “I hear the doorbell.”

 

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