by Isobel Bird
“For playing,” Jane told her. “Go on, take it. You earned it.”
Cooper took the money and put it in her pocket. “Thanks,” she said as Jane put her guitar away. “So do you maybe want to get together and play sometime?” She figured that even if she had misunderstood Jane’s song to be about the Goddess, she still played and sang really well. It would be fun to play with her.
Jane looked up at her. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m kind of a one-woman show, you know. Hence the not-having-a-band-anymore thing.”
“Oh,” Cooper said. She was surprised to find herself feeling more disappointed than she expected to be. She’d really enjoyed Jane’s music and their conversation, and she’d begun to think that maybe they would be able to be friends.
“Look,” Jane said, standing up. “You seem really cool. I don’t mean to sound like some kind of bad girl loner type or something. I just don’t play well with others, if you know what I mean.”
“Been there,” said Cooper. “But maybe we could just talk or something.”
Jane nodded. “Sure,” she said. She reached into her pocket and produced a piece of paper and a pen. “Here’s my number,” she said as she scribbled something down. “Give me a call.”
She handed Cooper the paper, then turned and walked away. Cooper watched her go. What a weird chick, she thought to herself. Jane had thrown her for a loop. Cooper had expected her to be as excited about meeting her as Cooper was about meeting Jane. But she seemed to be taking it all very casually.
Cooper looked at the paper in her hand. All it said was JANE 555-3591. There was no last name or anything. Cooper didn’t know anything about the girl except that they seemed to be the same age and that she could play amazing guitar. Where did she go to school? Where did she live? Cooper felt like an idiot for not asking her more questions.
She was tempted to run after Jane, whom she could still see walking down the street a block away. But she had to meet her father. She watched the other girl’s retreating back for a moment and then, reluctantly, turned and walked in the direction of the restaurant her father had chosen for their dinner.
When she arrived she found him already there. He saw her in the doorway and waved. Cooper wound her way through the tables over to where he was sitting.
“Hey,” she said, removing her coat and pulling out the chair across from him.
Her father stood up and kissed her on the cheek. “Hi, honey,” he said.
Cooper was startled. “What’s with that?” she asked. “We’re not on a date or anything.”
Her father blushed. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess this just feels kind of strange.”
Cooper had to agree with that. But she was still half thinking about Jane and their conversation, so she wasn’t as self-conscious about meeting her father for dinner as she might have been otherwise.
She picked up the menu and looked at the selections. Almost everything seemed to have meat in it, and she started to ask her father why he hadn’t picked someplace with more vegetarian options. But when she looked at him he seemed to be looking at his own menu with such a vacant look that she knew he probably wasn’t even aware of what he was reading. This is just as hard for him as it is for me, she thought.
“How’s the apartment?” she asked, closing her menu and putting it down.
“Okay, I guess,” said her father. “It’s an apartment. You know how it is. It always takes a while to get used to somewhere new.” Then he looked at her and laughed slightly. “Actually, I guess you wouldn’t know,” he said. “We’ve lived in that house since you were born.”
“I still know what you mean,” said Cooper. “It’s hard when things change.” She thought about the band, and about the other changes that had taken place in her life during the past months. None of it had been easy.
“You haven’t killed your mother yet, I hope,” her father said, taking a long drink from his water glass.
“Not yet,” Cooper said brightly. “But there’s always tomorrow. Actually, things have been quiet on the home front. Remember, it’s only been two days.”
Her father took a roll from the basket of bread on the table and began to pick it apart, popping the pieces into his mouth. “And how’s school?”
“Dad,” Cooper said. “You only moved out on Thursday. Give me at least a week to come up with some new drama.”
Her father put down the bread. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I don’t know what we’re supposed to talk about.”
“I don’t know either,” Cooper replied. “How about how you’re doing? You’re the one who seems a little edgy about all of this.”
“I’m supposed to be the grown-up here, remember?” replied her father as the waitress came to take their orders.
Cooper ordered the pasta primavera, while her father requested broiled fish. When the waitress was gone Cooper said, “You know, T.J. and I kind of broke up once because we disagreed about some stuff.”
Her father looked at her. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Cooper gave him a look. “You know teenagers don’t talk to their fathers about that kind of thing unless it’s absolutely necessary,” she said. “I’m only bringing it up now because, you know, maybe I understand a little bit what all this is about.”
Her father smiled gently. “Maybe you do,” he said.
“I remember thinking we’d never be able to get over it,” Cooper said, recalling how horrible she’d felt when she and T.J. had been fighting.
“But you did,” said her father.
“Only because I let him think he was right,” Cooper responded, grinning.
Her father laughed. “You’re more like your mother than you probably think,” he said.
Cooper groaned. “I hate it when you say things like that,” she said.
“Well, it’s true,” said her father. “Why do you think the two of you butt heads so much?”
“Because she’s impossible,” said Cooper.
“That’s exactly what she said when she and I had this conversation,” Mr. Rivers told her.
“You two talk about me?” asked Cooper suspiciously.
“Oh, now and again,” said her father teasingly. “Of course we talk about you.”
“What do you say?” Cooper asked, intrigued.
“That we should have gotten a puppy like we planned,” answered her father. He paused, looking at her. “Actually, we both agree that you’ve turned out to be a really interesting person,” he said seriously.
Cooper looked at him. She wasn’t sure what to say. Her father had never spoken to her that way before. It was like he was talking to a friend and not just to his kid.
Before she could say anything the waitress came with their food. For the rest of dinner Cooper and her father talked about anything except the separation. Then it was time to go. When they were outside once more her father offered to drive her home.
“That’s okay,” Cooper said. “I feel like walking tonight. But thanks for dinner.”
“Any time,” Mr. Rivers said. “In fact, how about Tuesday?”
“Can’t,” Cooper said. “Witch school. Thursday?”
“It’s a date,” her father said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Cooper hugged her dad good-bye and began the walk to the bus stop. She wasn’t going to see him again until Thursday. That was almost a week away. She sighed. This separation thing is harder than remembering my school schedule, she thought.
It was chilly, so she put her hands in her pockets to keep them warm. When she did she felt the piece of paper that Jane had given her. Once again she recalled how excited she’d been to hear the other girl’s music. She took the paper out to look at it again. It was flipped to the wrong side, and she was about to turn it over when something caught her eye.
She looked more closely at the paper Jane had used to write her name and number on. It had been torn from a larger piece of paper, but Cooper could still make out some of the words. As she tried to piece them t
ogether she realized that she had seen the paper before. It was a flyer for the upcoming Samhain ritual being sponsored by Crones’ Circle. She had seen the flyers sitting on the counter by the cash register the last time she’d been there.
And if Jane had one, that meant that she had also been at Crones’ Circle.
CHAPTER 12
Annie was sitting on the couch in the Dunnings’ living room, watching Mr. Dunning watch Dixon. Becka was beside her, and she leaned over and whispered, “I wonder where he got that fabulous outfit?”
Dixon—or Dixie, as he had told Annie to call him—was standing in the middle of the room. He had exchanged his costume from the night before for a new one. Gone were the pink dress and the wand, and in their place was something Annie could only describe as Barbie Goes to the Circus. He had on a blond wig styled in a flip, and he was wearing a leopard-print jumpsuit with an orange feather boa around his neck.
At first Annie had been unnerved by Dixie’s appearance. But the more she’d talked to him the night before, the more she’d realized that he knew a great deal about the Craft. He’d told her that the costumes were all for fun and that they helped him get in the mood for, as he called it, “helping Momma make some magic.”
Momma was what he called the Goddess. Dixie was originally from Georgia, which made his nickname even more appropriate, and he had a wonderful Southern accent. Whenever he said “Momma,” Annie had to smile. He said it as if he and the Goddess were the best of friends.
It had been Dixie’s idea to do a cleansing ritual at the Dunnings’ house. He’d told Annie that sometimes spirits continued to hang around the places where they died, even long after their deaths. He’d suggested that perhaps her parents were still in their old house, waiting for someone to help them leave.
Annie had called Mr. Dunning and told him about Dixie’s theory. He’d been happy to talk more about it, and that’s why they were now all sitting in the living room. Aunt Sarah, Riza, and George were also there, all seated in chairs or on the couch.
“So what we’re going to do,” Dixie said, “is go through the whole house with these sage leaves.” He held up a bunch of pale whitish-green leaves. “The smoke from these babies helps cleanse a place of negative energy.”
“Will that drive the ghosts out?” asked Becka.
Dixie shook his head. “We don’t want to drive them out,” he said. “We do the cleansing part after we help the ghosts cross over.”
Annie breathed a sigh of relief. Hearing Becka talk about driving the ghosts out had made her worry. Her parents weren’t mice or bats or something that needed to be gotten rid of. They were her parents. She didn’t like the idea of sweeping them away like dust. But she still didn’t know what Dixie had in mind.
“Chloe and Peter are lost souls,” Dixie said, using Annie’s parents’ names. “They’re sort of stuck between this world and the next one. They have been for a long time, so they’re very tired. They need our help to pass through the veil.”
“Through the veil?” Mr. Dunning asked.
“Yes,” said Dixie. “That’s what we say in the witch world when we’re talking about venturing from one plane of existence to another. We believe that many worlds exist side by side, separated by veils of energy. But sometimes we can pass through those veils, especially at this time of year. With Samhain coming up, the veil between our world and the spirit world is particularly thin. We should be able to send Peter and Chloe on their way without too much trouble.”
“Then we won’t live in a haunted house anymore,” Becka said, sounding kind of sad.
“I know it sounds kind of boring,” Dixie said. “But think about what it’s like for the poor ghosts. It’s no fun being stuck on this side when you belong on the other one.”
Becka nodded. Annie looked at her. “A friend of mine met a ghost who was stuck here once,” she said. “Trust me, it wasn’t pretty.” She thought about how miserable poor Elizabeth Sanger had been, not knowing what had happened to her and not being able to get where she needed to go until Cooper, Annie, and Kate had helped her.
“You’ve done this before?” Mr. Dunning asked Dixie.
“Not exactly,” Dixie said. Then he noticed the concerned expressions on the faces of the others. “But don’t worry. Momma’s gonna help us out and it will be fine.” He said fine like “faaaahn,” drawing it out into a much longer word.
“So, what do we do?” Annie said.
Dixie clapped his hands together. “Where is the energy the strongest in the house?” he asked Mr. Dunning.
“We tend to feel things most in my office upstairs,” he replied.
“Then that’s where we’ll go,” Dixie said. “Follow me, children.”
He turned and walked up the stairs, his boa twitching behind him like a cat’s tail. Annie stood up and followed him, the others coming along behind her. They all marched upstairs and went into Mr. Dunning’s office.
“Sorry about the mess,” Mr. Dunning said. “I didn’t know we’d be doing a ritual in here. Otherwise I would have straightened up.”
Annie looked at him and gave him a smile. She appreciated his sense of humor about what they were doing. It made her feel a little bit more at ease. She also appreciated how he hadn’t brought up what she’d told him about having started the fire that killed her parents. She hadn’t told Dixie that little piece of information either, and once again she was feeling guilty about it.
“Y’all get into a circle,” Dixie said. “As much of one as you can make, anyway.”
They formed a rough circle in the room. It was hard, what with all the papers and books on the floor, but they managed to make a fairly round one. Dixie stood in the middle.
“Now hold hands,” he instructed them.
Annie was standing between George and Becka. She took their hands and held them gently. She hoped her palms weren’t sweating too much, and she wished she’d thought to wipe them on her pants first.
“Actually, Annie, I’d like you in the center with me,” Dixie said.
Annie looked at him in surprise. Her? He wanted her in the center with him? But why?
“Come on,” he said, drawing her toward him by crooking his finger. “I need your witchy self to help me and Momma out.”
Annie let go of George’s and Becka’s hands and stepped forward. She stood awkwardly beside Dixie, looking at her aunt and the others. With everyone watching her she felt as if it were her first time ever in a circle, even though she had done this dozens of times.
“Just relax,” Dixie said softly. “You’re a star.”
Annie giggled. Dixie was so nice, and he was being so helpful. Still, she was nervous. She was in her old house, about to do a ritual to help send her dead parents to the other side. This is not what normal teenage girls do on the weekend, she told herself.
“We’re going to cast a circle now,” Dixie said. “Don’t worry, Annie and I will take care of the magic part. The rest of you just listen and follow along.”
He took Annie’s hand and held it up in his. “You just help me direct the energy,” he told Annie as he began.
“Circle, circle, round us form,” Dixie said, turning around slowly. Annie turned with him, picturing a circle of clear white light forming around the group.
“Those inside are safe from harm,” Dixie continued, still circling. “Sacred space is filled with peace, and the sound of blessed bees.”
He began to buzz, making the sound of bees flying around. Annie laughed and looked at him, wondering what he was doing.
“Sorry,” said Dixie. “Just a little Wiccan humor. But it does help to picture the light flying around like a lot of little bees, doesn’t it?”
Annie nodded. Now that she thought about it, it was a really cool idea. Once again Dixie had made her reexamine her ideas about how things could be.
Dixie released Annie’s hand and looked at the circled people. “We are now inside the sacred circle,” he told them. “This is a safe place. What we’re going
to do now is try to turn it into a doorway for Chloe and Peter to pass through. We’ll do that by raising some energy and calling them in here with us.”
“How do we raise energy?” Becka asked.
Dixie turned to Annie. “What do you think?” he asked her.
Annie was taken aback. Dixie was asking her opinion. But surely he knew more about these things than she did. Why did he need her help? But the more she thought about it, the more she was pleased that he had asked. It made her feel special, and it made her feel as if she was really contributing to the ritual to help her parents.
“Well, the room is too small for a spiral dance,” she said, and Dixie nodded. “We don’t have any drums or anything. So what about chanting or singing?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Dixie said. “And the song?”
Annie had to think harder about that one. She knew quite a few songs from all of the classes she’d been to and the rituals she’d attended. But were any of them appropriate for the occasion? Then she had a thought.
“How about ‘We All Come from the Goddess’?” she suggested.
“Perfect,” said Dixie. “Now everybody, Annie and I are going to sing a little something. Listen up the first few times and then sing along once you’ve got it. Okay?”
Everybody nodded. Dixie looked at Annie and began singing. “We all come from the Goddess, and to her we shall return,” he began.
Annie joined in. “Like a drop of rain, flowing to the ocean.”
They sang it again, slowly, so that everyone could get the words and hear the melody. Then, the third time around, the others joined in, at first hesitantly and then with stronger and stronger voices. Annie watched as first Becka and Riza, then her aunt, and George, and finally Mr. Dunning all took up the song. Their voices filled the room.
Annie closed her eyes and listened. She loved the song and the lyrics. Now they seemed even more special, with their message of how all things came from the Goddess, or from the earth, and how when they died they returned there. That’s what she hoped her parents would do—return to the place their spirits came from.
They sang for what seemed a long time, their voices joining to create a soothing drone. Annie could hear the different voices—some higher than others, some stronger—but really they all seemed like one voice with different tones to it. She imaged their words swirling around like the blessed bees that Dixie had joked about. They formed a cocoon of light and warmth, built by the voices of the people in the circle.
