T*Witches: The Power of Two

by Randi Reisfeld

  "Scutellaria lateriflora," he replied. "Commonly called 'skullcap.' Excellent for relaxing before an important occasion."

  "Before?" It seemed to Alex that the most important occasion, the most significant event of her young life, her mother's funeral, had just ended.

  She wanted to explain that to the old man, but a bone-weariness crept up on her. The very blood in her veins seemed to thicken and slow. "What am I going to do?" she asked, feeling sluggish and dreamy. "Where am I going to go?"

  He took her hands and pulled her gently to her feet. "I know just the place," she heard him say.

  Chapter 17 — The Truth

  "What else didn't you tell me?"

  Cam was sitting cross-legged on the bed, refusing to move, she didn't know for how long. A little while ago, her distraught mom had left the room. Now, she watched as her dad, pacing, rubbing his hands together, explained everything. Attempted to, that is.

  She could hear him, but processing his words, understanding them, that was something else. Something that was going to take a long, long time.

  Time: The one thing that girl Alex didn't have. The girl— maybe her sister! Whose mother was dying. And what if Alex's mother was really Cam's mother, too?

  So while Cam heard David Barnes tell her all this stuff...

  About how much he and Emily had wanted a child, but hadn't been able to conceive.

  ...She kept interrupting him. "What about the other one?"

  About how they'd adopted her—a beautiful, wondrous, amazing daughter, a baby he knew was special from the start.

  ..."Why didn't you take her, too?"

  About how the day after Cam had arrived, Emily had found out she was pregnant.

  ..."Is it because her mom was too poor to keep both of us? So they gave one away?"

  About how uncannily alike Cam and Dylan had looked, how they'd just moved to this new neighborhood and everyone assumed the babies were biological siblings.

  ..."You don't understand. She needs me! The nightmare man told me—that day at the soccer game. Now I know who he meant. He must've meant Alex. Alex needs me!"

  About how hurt she might have been, how she might have thought she was less loved, less truly part of the family—if as a child, she'd been told that she was adopted, but Dylan was their biological child.

  "I met her, I met her in Montana. We're the same. I mean, not the same, but we both... feel things. I can't explain it."

  About how the longer they'd put it off, the harder it got to bring up the subject. So they just never had.

  "We have to help her! We have to find her. I'm the only one who can help her."

  In their hearts, they never felt Cam wasn't their own child—

  Now Cam was shouting. "Why aren't you listening to me, Daddy! She needs money! Her mom is dying. And her mom might be my—"

  Exasperated, Dave steadied her. "Cami, you don't have a twin sister. I think I'd know."

  "Oh, please!" Cam twisted her sun necklace tightly around her forefinger. Without planning to, she suddenly yanked it hard, breaking the chain. The second it hit the floor, Cam kicked it across the room. "I always thought you gave me that necklace when I was born. Now I know even that was a lie. You didn't know me when I was born."

  Dave had watched the necklace skid across the floor, but made no move to retrieve it. "You were wearing it when you came to us—" he started to explain, but Cam cut him off.

  "How could you start lying all over again? Dad... I mean Dave—" she threw that in, knowing it was a knife in his heart— "you have to stop lying and give it up. Give it all up."

  Behind his round glasses, tears bubbled in his eyes. Instantly, Cam felt nauseous. Good going—today, you made both your parents cry. Do you get extra credit for that?

  "Cam, we couldn't love you any more, no matter what. And I promise I am not lying. I don't know anything about a twin."

  "I met her!" Cam bolted out of her chair. "I just told you, why aren't you listening to me?"

  Her dad leaned over and encircled Cam in his arms and pressed her to his chest. Reflexively, she closed her eyes and inhaled. The sweet smell of his aftershave, what she always thought of as "the dad smell," filled her senses. In spite of her resistance, some of the tension eased out of her.

  "That's good," Dave said. "Take a deep breath and calm down." Then he listened as Cam told him again about meeting Alex. How the stranger had been identical to her. How their eyes were the same. She told him everything, except the most important thing of all—that, together, they'd done something impossible.

  He heard every word, and kept insisting that he believed her. He promised to look into it, but he swore, he didn't know anything about another baby.

  Cam pulled away from him and stuck her chin out. "If you won't tell me, then give me the name of the agency. I'll find out on my own."

  Dave hesitated.

  "You owe me that much, at least."

  "It was a private adoption, Cam."

  "But someone had to set it up. I know you." Cam pointed at him. "You're a lawyer. You would never do anything illegal. You went through some agency."

  "There was no agency."

  "Then let me see my birth certificate. It'll say if there was more than one baby. It'll say 'multiple birth.'"

  Now her father trembled. It scared her. He sat down and took her hands. "There was no birth certificate, Cami. Not an authentic one."

  Cam's jaw fell open. She felt as if a speeding soccer ball had just connected with her gut. How could this be?

  "Cam," her dad began.

  But she held up her hand, to stop whatever it was he was going to say.

  One level down, the front doorbell chimed. So loudly, the sound reverberated through Cam's entire body.

  "What's wrong, Cami?" her dad asked. "It's just the door."

  She heard her own voice, sure and commanding. "I know who it is."

  Chapter 18 — The Bewildered Visitor

  "Alex?" Cam called, before the door was fully opened.

  "Cam?" Alex stood on the front porch, dazed.

  "What are you doing here?" they asked each other.

  Alex looked back at the driveway, but Doc was gone. "I'm not sure," she said, stumbling over her words.

  "Come in," Cam answered at the same time. Seizing Alex's hand, which was tightly gripping a little duffel bag, Cam pulled the clearly bewildered girl inside.

  A crackling charge passed between them. They both yelped. It was as if their hands touching, palm to palm, had formed a weird circuit, a connection through which an electric energy surged.

  It was like, Alex thought, the static rush she'd felt the first time she'd brushed against Doc's arm. Only now, it was a lot stronger.

  Cam's senses seemed suddenly sharpened. What, a moment before, had been a low murmur of voices from the hallway, became now clear and vivid words. "Oh, Dave, how can this be happening?" she heard.

  "Who's that?" Alex asked. "Why is she crying?"

  Startled, Cam said, "My mom. Sort of." Her dad must have rushed down the stairs after her—now, he and her mom were in the hallway. Luckily, they couldn't see the front door from where they were standing. "It's just a friend," Cam called in her parents' direction, and then quickly led the confused visitor upstairs.

  Alex's gray eyes widened as she took in Cam's room—the spaciousness, soft carpeting, and light; the riot of colors created by tacked-up posters, old greeting cards, snapshots, sports memorabilia, cartoons, articles, and fashion photos torn from magazines. It was a room so big it held two beds, twin beds. One of them was nearly buried under mounds of clothes, books, magazines, and school stuff.

  Cam rushed into Alex's line of sight, apologetically plucking up wrinkled T-shirts, jeans, and pair of neon-bright shorts off the pile. "I haven't had the time—"

  "To put everything away," Alex finished the sentence. "I know."

  "It's my Montana stuff—that is, stuff I brought when we went there." Flustered, Cam raced into the bathroom that link
ed her room with Dylan's and dumped the handful of clothes into the hamper. "But you could care less, right?"

  "Good guess," Alex agreed, setting down her duffel bag. "Your room is nearly as big as our whole house—"

  "Your whole trailer?" Cam asked, returning.

  Alex sat down on the edge of the still-messy bed, the few square inches not filled with Cami-stuff, and studied her look-alike curiously. "I said house. I meant trailer. So, can you read minds? I mean, can you hear people thinking?"

  "Not usually," Cam answered cautiously. "Why, can you?"

  "Sometimes," Alex said. "In school I heard what this kid Andy Yatz was thinking about me."

  "I can see stuff," Cam volunteered impulsively. "I can picture stuff happening, really clearly, before it happens. And during the soccer finals, this girl from the other team, Lindsay, said I blinded her. And I think I did."

  "Can you make things move?" Alex asked.

  "No. Can you?" Cam's heart was pounding. She almost felt like crying and laughing at the same time. How crazy was it that she could talk to someone she barely knew, about stuff she'd kept hidden practically forever? And that this stranger, this girl she'd only met a week ago, acted like it was all normal.

  "You mean besides turning Ferris wheel bolts hundreds of feet above me?" This was definitely bizarre, Alex decided. Okay, they looked alike, they were weird alike, but basically she was spewing secrets to a stranger. She threw herself back onto the pile of vacation gear. "I don't know," she lied.

  "You can, right? You just don't want me to think you're a freak—"

  Alex's mouth fell open. "Well how freaky is that remark? Pretty good for someone who can't read minds. And, by the way, how did you melt those bolts?"

  "I don't know." Cam sat on her own bed, opposite Alex, who was staring up at the ceiling. "A lot of bizarre stuff's been going on lately—"

  "Yeah, right. Tell me about it," Alex said sarcastically. Then, after picking at a cuticle, she asked as casually as she could, "Know any incantations?"

  "Incan-whatses?"

  "You know, like magical wishes or hopes that rhyme." She was almost immediately sorry she'd said it. She must've sounded like mental case, she thought, some wand-waving, barefoot airhead. Well, at least she'd stopped short of chatting about crystals and herbs.

  Was that what she'd done—subconsciously—at the Ferris wheel? What they both had done? Unexpectedly, Cam said softly, "I'm not sure. I might."

  "You might what? Know how to cast a spell?"

  "When we were at the Ol' Wagon Wheel," Cam answered. "Something weird happened."

  "Understatement of the universe," Alex cracked.

  Cam smiled. "You know any?" she asked. "Spells, incantations?"

  "Sure." Alex said it like it was a joke. "I know two of them. You need a magic crystal for one."

  She was waiting for Cam to groan, or cackle, or just tell her she was nuts. Instead, Marble Bay Missy said, "Can you recite it?"

  "Uh... sure," Alex found herself saying. "But you've got to turn your back because it's way powerful. It might make you do something you'd regret." To her surprise, Cam obediently turned and faced the wall.

  "Okay, here goes." Alex closed her eyes and recalled Doc's words. She actually remembered most of them. Most, but not all. Then, the most amazing thing happened. Cam, with her back still toward Alex, finished it.

  They were both stunned, speechless.

  Suddenly Cam remembered Alex's urgent plea—about her mom. Who might be Cam's mom. "Is she okay?"

  "She died. Wednesday," Alex responded brusquely. She didn't want to think about it, much less talk about it. Plus, she'd already caught the quick, pained surprise in Cam's eyes. She didn't need her pity.

  Ducking her head, Alex forced herself to focus on the CD in her hand. It was Marleigh Cooper's debut album. Marleigh Cooper, the diva who'd disappeared in...

  Marble Bay, Massachusetts.

  So that's where I am, she realized.

  Of course. It was where Camryn Barnes lived. The girl had scribbled her address on the note she'd handed Alex. It just hadn't registered before.

  "She died the day after you e-mailed me?" Cam asked, sounding confused. "The very next day?"

  Alex's shoulders slumped. "Technically," she said, tossing the CD onto the bed. "It was about three in the morning. The funeral was Friday. It was okay. A lot more people showed up than I expected—"

  "Alex," Cam gasped. "That can't be. Today is Friday, it's Friday night. You couldn't have gotten here so fast, unless you flew. She stopped at her stupid, insensitive attempt to lighten the moment.

  Alex sighed, "This old guy, Doc, got me here. I must've fallen asleep or something. I don't know how he got me here, only that he did. He said he knew just the place for me—what a joke." she added, indicating Cam's humongous, oh-so-cool room. "As if for some reason I belong here. He must have been out of his gourd."

  "But what about your dad? Does he know —"

  "He's dead," Alex said sharply, and stood up. To get away from Cam's startled gaze, to outpace her own panic, she began to roam around the room.

  "Why are you so..."Touchy, Cam was going to ask but didn't. She stopped because the answer to her question was suddenly apparent. All at once, her eyesight sharpened, and all she could hear was her own thudding pulse. She "saw" a trailer in the woods—the same trailer she'd pictured when Alex said 'our house'—and a pretty but worn-out woman coughing. Around the woman was a circle of light that was rapidly changing colors.

  An aura, Cam thought, wondering how she suddenly knew the word. And then how she knew that the woman's name was Sara, and that she was Alex's mother.

  And maybe her own.

  Then the vision shattered.

  Chapter 19 — The Charred Picture

  "You were thinking about... your mom just now, weren't you? Cam asked breathlessly.

  Tears flashed in Alex's eyes. She wiped them angrily on the sleeve of her black dress. "That falls under the heading 'So Not Your Business,'" she shot back.

  Behind the bitter words, Cam sensed a painful sadness. "I'm so very sorry about your mom," she said.

  "Why? She's not your mom," Alex snapped, doing what had become automatic for her lately—turning fear, sorrow, and now grief, into anger.

  How would you know? Cam wanted to blurt. But obviously, Alex was hurting. And Cam's head ached. The vision, or whatever it had been, had left her eyes burning. "Right." She backed off. "So, anyway, what was she like? Only if you want to talk about it, that is," she amended. "She was pretty, wasn't she?"

  "She was pretty tough," Alex answered, checking out the photos pinned to Cam's walls. "Strong, funny, generous. She's the best. I mean, she was..."Alex trailed off. She didn't want to talk about her mom—especially not to Cam. Suddenly her attention was drawn to one of Cam's pictures, and she blurted, "Hey, it's that girl from the news." It was a dumb thing to say, but it beat bawling again. "It's her and Marleigh Cooper—and you."

  Cam glanced at the photo Alex was studying. "The one you're pointing to, that's Tonya Gladstone. How'd you know?" she asked. "Oh, I guess you saw her on TV."

  "We do have TV, even in the wilds of Montana," Alex shot back. "And tabloids and the internet. And some of us can even read them."

  Cam winced. The girl, her own sister maybe, her twin, was such an irri-tator-tot, annoyingly moody. Her sarcasm was grating. Then Cam felt a stab of guilt—Alex's mother had just died, the girl was in a strange place, not even knowing how she got here. Alex was entitled to act any way she wanted.

  But still, Cam didn't want to have to watch every word she said. After all, it wasn't as if her own past few hours had been trauma-free. She'd just found out she was adopted! Yet somehow she managed to keep it together.

  Cam's phone rang.

  "We even have smart phones," Alex added, disdainfully watching Cam answer it. "But only for the overprivileged, tech-toy trendoids."

  Her fingers wrapped around the phone, Cam hesitated. "I don't have to answer
it," she felt compelled to say.

  "Why? Because the alien from outer Montana just landed? Oh, please. Be my guest."

  "Thanks for your permission," Cam grumbled.

  It was Beth. "Cami. It's awful. You won't believe what happened—"

  Right back atcha, She thought. "I'll your 'believe it or not,' and raise you the fact that my life has been one big lie." Cam muttered it, half-hoping Alex was listening. Listening? The girl could hear thoughts, she reminded herself.