by Isobel Bird
Then, as if hearing an unspoken command, the voices died out and they were left in silence. Standing there, Annie realized that the room felt much warmer than it had when they began. She opened her eyes and saw everyone looking around with smiles on their faces, as if they were all sharing in the warmth of the circle.
“Now we’re going to call to Peter and Chloe,” Dixie said quietly. “We’re going to invite them into our circle and ask them to pass through the doorway we’ve opened here. Becka and George, I’d like you to drop your hands and each step aside a little bit to form a doorway.”
Becka and George did as Dixie asked. When there was a space between them, an opening in the circle of linked hands, Dixie spoke again.
“Chloe and Peter,” he called out. “We know that you’ve lived in this place for a long time. We know that you’re confused, and maybe even angry. We ask that you come into our circle now and step through the doorway we’ve created, a doorway that will take you into a place of rest.”
He paused. Annie looked at him, wondering what was supposed to happen. She’d never been at a ritual where spirits were called, and she had no idea what to expect.
“Call to them,” Dixie told her. “They might recognize your voice more than mine.”
Annie swallowed hard. Dixie wanted her to call her parents’ ghosts? She was the one they were angry at. Why would they listen to her? But she knew she couldn’t say no. It would look weird. So she took a deep breath and tried.
“Mom,” she said, her voice shaky. “Dad. It’s me. Annie. If you’re here, please come into the circle. We want to help you.”
She didn’t know what else to say, so she stopped. She stood there, waiting, not knowing what might happen. Would her parents come? How would she know? For the first time she wondered if maybe they were just being ridiculous.
“Annie.” The voices swept through the room like a cold breeze. Annie gasped.
“What?” Dixie asked her, apparently not hearing anything.
“They called my name,” she said.
Dixie smiled.
“Annie.” The voices came again, two of them, winding around each other like birds flying together.
“They’re definitely here,” said Annie. This time she didn’t feel like running away, but hearing her parents’ voices still unnerved her, and she was glad that she was in the sacred circle surrounded by people she liked and trusted. She knew they wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
“Peter and Chloe,” Dixie said in a strong voice. “Welcome to the circle.” He looked at Becka and George. “Join hands again,” he instructed them, and they did as he asked.
“The circle is now closed once more,” he said. “Chloe and Peter, we thank you for joining us. We ask now that you pass through the doorway we have opened for you.”
“Annie.” The voices rang in Annie’s ears, louder this time. But instead of sounding relieved to be passing through the doorway of the circle, they sounded anxious.
“Annie.” They were growing louder. But if her parents’ ghosts were passing through the veil, shouldn’t they be getting softer? Something wasn’t right.
“I don’t think it’s working,” Annie said to Dixie.
Before he could answer a great wind swept through the room. It swirled around the circle, and Annie saw looks of surprise on the faces around her.
“What’s happening?” Riza asked, sounding a little frightened.
The wind continued to swirl, pushing papers around and making the curtains at the windows billow out. It grew more and more forceful. Then the voices came. “Annie!” they cried, over and over. Soon Annie felt herself surrounded by a chorus of voices that called out to her frantically.
“What?” she cried out. “What do you want?”
She put her hands over her ears, trying to block the sound of her parents’ voices calling her name. “Annie. Annie. Annie,” they repeated endlessly.
No one else seemed to be able to hear them. Annie turned around and around, looking for help from someone, anyone. Dixie reached out and put his arms around her, pulling her close. But still the voices battered her.
“Stop!” she called out. “Please stop!”
Immediately the wind was gone and the voices ceased calling to her. The room was eerily quiet, and she stood in the circle with her face pressed against Dixie’s chest.
“What happened?” she asked him. “Where did they go?”
“I’m not sure, honey,” Dixie replied. “I think they might have passed over.”
“But are you sure?” Annie asked him. “Are you sure they’re gone?”
Dixie smiled. “No,” he told her. “I’m not. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“What was all that?” Mr. Dunning asked.
Annie looked and saw the others still standing with their hands joined together. The looks on their faces were mixtures of awe, fear, and relief, as if they were glad that whatever had happened was over but were excited to have experienced it.
“That was ghosts,” Dixie answered. “At least I think it was. It was definitely something moving through here.”
“It was them all right,” Annie said. “They were calling to me again.”
“I hope they were saying good-bye,” Becka said.
Annie looked at her. “So do I,” she said.
CHAPTER 13
“So, what do you think?”
Kate waited anxiously, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. On the other end, Sophia was deciding whether Kate’s parents could attend a ritual with the group.
“Well, we often allow people interested in joining the class to come to an open ritual,” Sophia said. “And certainly when we do larger open rituals, members of the outside community can attend. But we generally don’t allow people to come who we know aren’t particularly supportive of Wicca. It disrupts the energy.”
Kate felt her hopes fade. If her parents weren’t allowed to come to a ritual, they would never know what rituals were really like. This was her only chance, however slim, of showing them that she wasn’t involved in something they had to be worried about. She needed to convince Sophia of that.
“However,” Sophia said before Kate could speak, “I think this is a special situation. I know how important the class is to you. And we’ve all missed having you. So if they’re willing to come, then I think we should let them.”
Kate was so happy she felt like jumping up and down. “Thanks,” she said, relieved.
“Why don’t you invite them to the Samhain ritual?” suggested Sophia.
“Samhain?” Kate repeated. “Are you sure? It’s sort of—” She stopped, uncertain of how to explain what she was thinking.
“Sort of strange?” said Sophia.
“Well, yeah,” admitted Kate. “Wouldn’t one of the more boring rituals be better?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sophia replied. “But I think this is a good one for them to see.”
Kate sighed. “Okay,” she said doubtfully. “I’ll ask them.”
“Don’t forget that you’re supposed to come in costume,” Sophia reminded her. “There’s a party after the ritual.”
Kate groaned. “I don’t think I can get them to wear costumes,” she said.
“They don’t have to,” said Sophia. “I was talking about you.”
Kate hung up and went downstairs. Her parents were in the kitchen, reading the Sunday paper and drinking coffee. She walked in and pulled out a chair.
“I just talked to Sophia,” she said carefully, feeling incredibly nervous. “She says it’s fine for you guys to come to one of the rituals.”
Her mother and father exchanged glances across the table. Kate wondered if they were as apprehensive about seeing a Wiccan ritual as she was about their being there. The healing circle that Sophia and the others had done for Aunt Netty had been very low-key. But Kate knew that the Samhain ritual was going to be much different. Samhain was the biggest night of the year for witches, and she had a feeling tha
t the organizers were going to go all out for it. It had to be Samhain, she thought miserably. Why couldn’t it have been a nice safe little sabbat like Mabon or something?
“There’s going to be a big gathering this Saturday night,” Kate continued. “It’s a Halloween ritual.” She wasn’t about to hit her parents with the Wiccan name for the holiday yet. She wanted to make things sound as familiar to them as she could.
“And just what’s going to happen at this . . . ritual?” her father asked.
Kate calmed her nerves. “I don’t know exactly,” she said. “Probably some singing and dancing. Things like that.”
“Then what makes it a ritual?” asked her father gruffly.
“Dad, I just don’t know what they’re going to do,” Kate said. “It could be anything.”
“So it’s just a big Halloween party, then?” he said.
Kate sighed. “No,” she said. “Although we are supposed to come in costume.” She saw the worried looks on her parents’ faces and added quickly, “But you guys don’t have to. Unless you want to, that is.”
“What kind of costume?” her mother asked.
“Whatever you want,” Kate said. “Only nothing bloody or monstery. This isn’t that kind of Halloween party.”
Her father leaned back in his chair. “What’s a Halloween party without monsters?” he asked.
“Halloween isn’t the same for witches as it is for everyone else,” Kate said, wanting him to understand. “It’s sort of like New Year’s. They look at it as the last day of the year, and it’s all about the cycle of death and rebirth.”
“Sounds cheery,” Mr. Morgan remarked.
“Well, it kind of is, really,” said Kate. “It’s serious, but it’s fun, too. It’s about spirits and all of that, and the dressing-up part is supposed to remind us that even though we all die it’s just a part of the big picture.”
Her father looked at her, not saying anything. Kate watched his face, wondering what he was thinking. He seemed to be appraising her, almost the way he would size up a new product a salesman was trying to get him to buy. Was she measuring up? she wondered, or was he thinking that she’d really gone off the deep end this time?
But all he said was, “I see.” Then he got up, folded his paper, and announced, “I’m going to run by the store for a while. I’ll be back this afternoon.” He kissed Mrs. Morgan, grabbed his coat from the hook by the door, and left.
“Does that mean you guys are going?” Kate asked as the front door shut.
Mrs. Morgan took a sip of coffee. “I think so,” she said.
Kate got herself a bowl and poured some cereal into it. She filled it with milk and then sat down again. “I didn’t explain it very well, did I?” she asked her mother.
“You were fine,” Mrs. Morgan answered.
“Then why did he run off like that?” said Kate.
“Because that’s what he does when he doesn’t know what to say,” her mother replied. “He always has. The first year we were married he spent more time at that store than he did here, mainly because whenever we had a fight he would run over there and straighten shelves or unpack hockey pucks or something.”
“You guys had fights?” asked Kate, surprised to hear her mother say that. “But you almost never fight.”
“That’s because we’ve fought about everything already,” said her mother, laughing. “We’ve run out of arguments.”
“I’m really glad you guys are coming to the ritual,” said Kate after a moment. “It means a lot to me.”
“Just remember,” her mother told her. “No promises.”
Kate nodded. “I know,” she said. “But I’m glad you’re coming anyway. And thanks for saying what you did at Dr. Hagen’s yesterday, too.”
Her mother nodded but didn’t say anything. She went back to the list she was making of possible recipes for an upcoming catering job. Kate finished her cereal, then washed the bowl in the sink and put it away.
“I’m going to go for a walk,” she said. “I’ll be back later.”
“Okay,” said her mother distractedly. “See you.”
Kate went to her room and grabbed her jacket and her backpack. Then she left the house. But instead of walking to the bus stop, she got on her bike and headed in the other direction. She pedaled down the street and turned, heading away from town and toward the big park that lay just outside of it.
The park was about four miles from her house, and it took her a while to get there. But the October sun was warm and the colorful leaves that still covered some of the trees were beautiful to look at, so she didn’t mind the ride at all. When she got to the park she rode to the end of a particular parking lot, chained her bike to one of the stands, and then started walking up a narrow trail.
The trail went up, following a hill. Kate walked along under the trees, taking in the rich earthy smell and looking around at the autumn landscape. There was nobody else in the woods, so she was able to walk in silence, hearing only the sounds of the birds and the animals that scurried around in the brush.
When she reached the top of the hill the trail opened out into a clearing ringed by pine trees. Kate stood, looking out at the magnificent view of the park she had from her position high above everything. She and Tyler had found this spot on a walk they’d taken over the summer, and it had quickly become one of their favorite places. They had gone there several times, sometimes bringing picnic lunches and enjoying them in what felt like their own castle in the air.
Kate set her backpack on the ground and sat on a large rock. She sat there for a while, simply enjoying being outside. She looked around, noticing how the place had changed since the summer. The trees had fewer leaves, and the light was different—colder and flatter than the brightness of the summer sun. The flowers that had bloomed around the clearing were gone, but the dried skeletons of their stems and leaves remained behind. It really did feel as if the year was closing in on itself, preparing to go to sleep for the winter.
She’d been tempted to call Tyler and ask him to meet her at the park. It would have taken one quick phone call. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, and she really wanted to be able to see him and talk to him again. But now that her parents were making the gesture of coming to a ritual, she didn’t want to do anything that might make them change their minds. Besides, if everything worked out, she and Tyler would be able to date again soon.
If everything works out, she told herself. And that was a big if. She’d been thinking about that ever since Sophia had agreed to let her parents come to the ritual. And that was one of the reasons she’d decided to come to the park. She wanted to do everything she could to ensure that things worked out for the best, and she’d decided that she would do a little ritual.
She picked up her backpack and opened it. Inside were some things she’d brought from home. She took out a notebook and a pen and opened the notebook to a clean page. Then she made a list.
1. Fighting with my parents over Wicca
2. Not being able to see Tyler
3. Worrying about people at school and what they think
She looked at the three items on her list. They were the main things that had been bothering her lately, the things she wished she didn’t have to deal with. There were other things, too, like Cooper’s situation with her parents and Annie’s sadness over being dumped by Brian, but she knew she could do magic only for herself, not for her friends. Maybe later they could do a ritual together, but for the moment she had to concentrate on her own problems.
She ripped the piece of paper out of her notebook and folded it in half, then in half again. Then she sat cross-legged on the rock, holding the paper in her hands. She closed her eyes and began the familiar exercise of drawing light up from the earth and letting it fill her body. Then she pictured that light pouring out of her and forming a circle with her at the center.
When that was done she held her hands in her lap, cupped, with the paper in the middle. Then she sat quietly, feeling the wind, s
melling the scents of fall, and soaking in the atmosphere of the park. She let the rich smell of the decomposing leaves fill her nose. She imagined the world around her readying itself for cold, the autumn fading into winter as everything slowed down and prepared for sleep.
She then imagined the paper in her hands as part of that process. She pictured it buried in the earth, slowly disintegrating as the water and the cold turned it into millions of invisible particles. And as the paper disappeared, so did the worries that she had written on it. They were eaten up by the earth and turned into rich soil that would provide a bed for the seeds in the spring. Then, out of her troubles would come tiny flowers and towering trees, the creations of the earth.
Kate opened her eyes. She looked around and found a spot not far from the rock where the earth looked soft. She walked to it and knelt down. Using her fingers, she dug a hole in the ground and placed the paper in it. Then she gently spread the dirt back over it and patted it down so that the ground looked just as it had before. She even sprinkled some pine needles and leaves over the top so that it would blend in.
She knelt there for a few minutes, looking at the place where she’d buried her worries and fears. While she would have liked to make them vanish in an instant, she knew that wasn’t possible. Overcoming them would take time, the same way it took time for seeds to grow into plants or for fallen leaves to turn into soil. Buried in the earth, the list of things she wanted to rid herself of would decompose, little by little each day, until they were gone. And she knew that the things that were bothering her in her life would also gradually fade away with time if she let things take their natural course.
She stood up and went back to the rock. She sat down again and reached once more into her backpack. This time she took out a bottle of water and an apple. She sat on the rock and enjoyed her snack for a while, feeling a little bit more confident than when she’d arrived. From all the studying she’d done, she knew that no ritual could change her life if she didn’t do the things that needed to be done to change it, but burying the piece of paper had been symbolic of letting things go that she needed to let go of, and that felt good. Real magic, as Sophia was always telling them, came from inside, not outside.
