A Witch's Curse
Page 17
People were already lining up outside, staring with open mouths at the obliteration that had developed. Droves of men on their way from work and tourists on vacation were stopping by to peer inside this place that they had probably barely noticed as open beforehand. Rose decided to leave the shop before any reporters came, since she did not want her father to see on her on the local news channel.
“Will you be all right?” Rose asked.
“Sure,” Alexis said. “As well as I can be. Besides the one thing I’ve worked half of my life to attain being shattered, I guess I’m fine. You better go before he comes back. Are you hurt? Don‘t lie to me.”
“No more than what I usually have been this past semester.” Rose paused, staring at the ground for a second. “I was really scared for a second, Alexis. I thought it was all over.”
“I know, Rose. Me too.”
In that evening’s twilight she walked home over lanes covered with shriveled leaves, running away from the sirens, crowds of spectators, and the demolition caused by the veiled rival. She just hoped that he was not following her. If anything were to happen to her father, it would cause an endless amount of guilt.
When she was walking on the street her house was located on, some things seemed greatly out of the ordinary.
A tree had fallen down onto a part of the sidewalk, and it was not until she was walking by it that she saw a particular angle which helped her find out how it had crushed a car. Its owner was standing by morosely. A power line was lying down, writhing like a snake while its severed end shot sparks onto the asphalt.
Entering into the house, she saw her father sitting in the corner. He seemed to be covered in sweat, and he stared at her with an odd sort of smile.
“What’s going on?” Rose asked.
“Weird things have been happening. Please, for the love of God, remain where you are. Don’t move.”
“Talk to me.”
He stood completely still, looking to his left as the kitchen window cracked in two pieces. Rose concentrated to see if someone was beyond the sill, where no one was there.
“Why are you covered in glass?”
She wiped her sweater with a flat palm of her hand, embarrassed. “Listen Dad-”
“This isn’t the only bizarre circumstance of today,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“I saw your mother.”
“When?”
“A few hours ago.”
“Where?”
“Today near an antiques store. I was picking up groceries.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing. She just stared at me. I wanted to walk up to her, but before I knew it, she disappeared. I came here and everything started moving on its own. Am I losing it?”
“No,” Rose said.
“Then how do I explain everything that’s happened today?”
Rose inched towards him. He seemed horrified that she was moving through such dangerous premises. She crouched down to where he was and wrapped her arms around his shaking body.
“Listen, I want you to stay in here tomorrow. All day and night. Can you promise to do that for me?”
“Why?”
“It will be safer here than anywhere else.”
Especially after I douse the porch in holy water.
“Take this,” she said, reaching into her pocket and retrieving an amulet.
“What is it?” Damian asked, grabbing it in his hands.
“A good luck charm. Don’t worry. This place is a sanctuary, all right?”
“The whole town’s gone berserk,” he said.
“Right. However, not this house, do you understand? I’m going to go hang out with James and Beatrice. Don’t worry about me.”
“Bring the cell-phone.”
“Of course,” she said, standing up and preparing to go up to the second floor, knowing that was where the blessed water was. Once she had grabbed it and went back to where her Dad was sitting, she smiled at him, a pang of repentance hitting her for having brought him into the disarrayed turmoil of her existence.
“Honey?” Damian said, as she was about to leave through the door.
“Yes?”
“Be careful.”
After walking out and placing the water on every inch of the front, and then sprinkling it in a circle around the house to be on the safe side, it did not take long before gazing around the neighborhood and taking notice of how everything was going wrongly. Fire hydrants were going off while cars rammed into each other. No one told me life was going to be like this.
After making a few calls, she convinced James and Melinda to meet her near the now destroyed bookstore, at a local café called Rome’s. Neither had anything on their schedules that afternoon, so within an hour they were both sitting across from her, espresso‘s in hand. She bought them both coffee’s, since Rose felt culpable for taking up any of their time, or at least being deceitful to them in implying that it was a light hearted reason for them being there. Hot drinks and a few helpings of cookies was the least she could do. They sat in the very back, out of earshot from the rest of the customers.
“I have something to say to you two.”
“What is it?” Melinda asked, waving her black bangs back to get a clearer look at her friend. Rose was always dumbfounded at how quickly Melinda’s hair grew out. “You broke up with Grady?” James asked.
She paused. “No. Well, sort of. For a time. Now we’re back together.”
“Damn,” James said.
“What?” Melinda gave a quizzical look.
“Nothing,” he shot back.
“Rose, if something’s on your mind then you can tell us what it is. Even James will listen.”
“Let’s not argue on the last night we may ever see each other again. Okay?”
They gawked at her.
“What are you saying?” Melinda asked, wearing an expression of concern.
“I’m about to do something very dangerous in Blume Park tomorrow. It’s going to be the riskiest night of my life. I can’t tell you what it is, but I have faith in you to trust me when I say that it’s the sort of event I may not come back from. Do you understand?”
They both nodded slowly, despite still appearing thunderstruck.
“Good. Now, like James, I can’t afford to live a lie anymore. We three have been pretty close over the years, although we’ve still maintained a sort of secrecy amongst one another. That’s bad, because I think we could have gotten a long much better if we only told the truth more often. Melinda, something’s up with you. I don’t know what it is, and I may never know, and that kind of hurts. Yet these points are irrelevant to why I asked you two here. See, I didn’t have a normal upbringing, as you may have guessed. You’ve probably heard me trash my mother quite a bit over the years. See, she’s a witch.”
“We know that,” Melinda said. “It’s a term you’ve used before.”
“No, I mean she really is one. As in, an occultist individual connected to Satan in some way. Most witches don’t fit the stereotypical mold of evil associated with them through out history, but she does. In spades.”
“Okay,” Melinda said, grabbing Rose’s hand. “Sweetie, you should know something. Just because a person calls themselves a witch doesn’t mean they are one. How many students at our high school wear pentagrams around their necks and pretend to worship Thor while digging up dirt from their backyards to put in a jar with a written spell? Tons. Doesn’t mean they actually practice what they preach. People can’t bend time and space just because they want to.”
Rose pulled her hand away. “You don’t understand. The craft is real.”
“Sure,” James said.
“I’m a witch.”
Their mouths fell open. All that could be heard was the light sounds of classic rock protruding from the ceiling’s speakers, and the faint voices of customers wafting into the secluded area where they sat. They glanced nervously at each other.
“Well,” Melinda said, “I
guess we shouldn’t be surprised.”
“What?”
“She’s right,” James said. “I mean, when we think about all of the things you’ve pulled off.”
“What are you talking about?” Rose asked.
“You’ve made cake without heat in Home Economics more than once.”
“You fixed the microwave oven without touching it.”
“Yeah. Plus, that other time that you wished for a snow day, and the next morning I woke up to find that we got one. In the middle of May.”
“How you’ve aced every single pop quiz.”
“You’re always reading those odd, unlabelled books.”
“Okay,” Rose said with a smile. “You caught me.”
“So that’s what you came here to tell us?”
“Yes,” she said. “And also…”
“Something we should know?”
She took a small while to say it. “I love you both.”
After they finished their coffee and tea, Melinda took Rose outside near her car in the parking lot. It was a clear and only slightly cold evening. James was inside talking to a clerk at the counter who was also a friend from school. They were joking around.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Melinda said.
“What is it?”
“You see, like I said, it doesn’t surprise me. Your identity, I mean.”
“Okay…but?”
“At the same time, I didn’t want to tell you this, because if you weren’t a witch you would think of me as crazy. I practice the craft once every blue moon.”
She smiled. “I thought so. That explains why you saw that ghost in the manor. Only those involved in the paranormal arts can see the dead rise when two blood related witches who have contention for one another occupy the same town.” She paused for a moment, staring at Melinda.
“You‘re not saying anything that makes sense.”
Rose pushed her friends words aside. “By saying you involve yourself with the craft once every blue moon, are you being literal or figurative?”
“Rose? Just be careful tomorrow.”
Alexis relocated to a house in the hills. Rose had to drive much too far, but when seeing the cottage, it became apparent that this was a safe haven. Crosses were placed on the lawn, the path was strewn with holy water, and amulets circled the abode. Around it was nothing but a large, open expanse of rolling green hills and mountain peaks. From this view, the lake’s beige beaches appeared as thin strips of land in the great detachment.
She jumped out and approached the porch. The terrace was surrounded by dying orchids. After knocking on the door, she heard a blood curdled scream on the other side of the tar colored oak entrance way, one filled with mistrust.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me?”
The slab in front of her was opened , with frenzied hands. Alexis grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into the living room speedily. The space was clear, except for a chalk drawn circle in the middle of the floor.
“What’s happening here?”
Alexis gave her a smile with a twinkling appearing in her eye. “We’re going to end the town’s curse once and for all.”
Rose watched as Harvey slammed the door behind her, before asking precisely how this was going to occur.
Alexis pointed to the work station. “I’m forming what should be the most powerful banishment spell written in the last five hundred years, I have two jars of dirt, both from the islands that Napoleon was exiled to, St. Helena and Elba. Some of it’s from the very place he was standing on when he died of arsenic poisoning.”
“So how does it benefit us?”
“I’ve already blessed it. As long as it’s scattered on the area your mother’s near, she’ll be cast out. Whether its action will be subtle or powerful is something I’ve yet to find out, but we‘ll know. Her trench coat friend and coven will go with her.”
“When you were being held by him, did he specify what kind of demon he wanted to send for?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Alexis said. “He won’t have that power. I’ll make sure of it.”
Rose nodded, closing her eyes for a second. Even if she were to defeat this enemy and vanquish her, would Rose still see her again? Karen had a way of reappearing.
“Now,” Alexis said. “Repeat after me. Grip my hand.”
Their fingers were entangled into a knot of skin. Alexis then said a few words in dead language not spoken since a millennia ago. The vowels were hard to sound out, but after hearing Ms. Harvey speak them a countless amount of times, she finally decided to try and imitate the very syllables alone. The words were winding and multifarious. After having said the fragmented sentences thirteen times in a row together, Rose heard a howling erupt in the center of the room. Opening her eyes, she saw the dirt in the jars pouring from the tops to the ceiling, as if it were turned upside down, when in reality both were standing upright. The walls creaked, and she looked upwards to see the soil sticking to the covering.
“Can you explain this?” Rose asked.
A twister of dust formed in the axis of the chamber. A figure emerged, one letting out a bawl which sounded like a thousand people stricken with the flu coughing simultaneously. It swirled around, frenetically shaking its arms and moving with slow speed to the other side of the room, as if it wanted to crawl outside to the lake.
It then vanished, turning to dust once again and settling onto the floor before the rest of the dirt spinning around them collapsed.
“I didn‘t plan on that happening,” Harvey said, letting out a sneeze. Rose thought she might cough up ground soil.
It took them a solid hour to clean up the mess, retrieving brooms from the closet and collecting all of the grime that had settled on every inch of the chalet. After Rose had finished with her last scoopful, throwing it in the trash, she then went into the backroom, slipping into the new pair of clothing, her newest masquerade. It was another leine, like the one she had worn the night of meeting Hemera’s coven for the first time. She applied different makeup in order to make her skin white again.
When she stepped out into the living room, Alexis offered to change Rose’s voice once more.
“Drink this,” she said, handing Whelan a vial of crimson liquid.
Rose nodded before downing it in one gulp.
“Hello?“ Rose said as a test run, amazed at the audibility of herself. This one was the kind of sound she preferred, for it was less huskier than the last pair of vocal chords she had been given. A part of her wished this could be the way her voice sounded all the time.
“Let’s go,” Alexis said. “Are you ready?”
Rose confirmed that she was, as they made their way outside into the mountain air. The sun was lowering behind Auster’s peak, casting a purplish miasma across the jagged tops of the frosty crests, and she could not help but yearn to talk to her Grandfather once more, wishing that her Dad could know about the transcendentally given conversations that had happened only yesterday.
“So, what are our plans?” Alexis asked.
“I’m going to cast the banishment spell when they are partaking in their ritualistic practice over the fire, when their backs are turned and it’s safe for me to do so. When I cast the incantation, I will also try to search within and find forgiveness towards my mother, so as to add much more strength to the hex.”
“That’s right, and what will you do if the other witches begin to retaliate?”
“I call on you.”
They hugged each other for a brief moment, and when they released each other, Rose found herself staring glumly at the ground, needing to express herself and yet finding it difficult to speak a truism that had been inside of her for quite some time.
“Alexis,” Rose said, as her teacher made her way closer to the vehicle.
“Yes?”
“Whether this sounds like me saying something over the top or not, I hope you know that I truly mean it. You’re the closest thing I have to a real mother
.”
Harvey smiled, closing the car’s door, beckoning Rose to do the same.
As they were driving along the empty highway, the night’s darkness draping every hill in its bleak shadows, Alexis rolled down the windows briefly to let in a bit of cold air before saying something.
“I know why you sleep walk,“ Alexis said. “I know it through careful studying. There are a lot of things about the universe you and I will never understand, dear. What I do know is that some people’s ethereal organisms are not necessarily subjugated to one vessel. There is a bifurcation in every one. Some forms are different than others. It only makes sense that your own inherent differences would be at war with one another, particularly if it’s dependent on the nature of the moon. Every witch who dabbles in the magical arts is far more in touch with lunar cycles than the average person, but you’re a different case. You always leave your bed when the moon is full. Once we banish your mother, then your tendency to sleep walk will also no longer bother you.”
“The lunar cycles are responsible for when I sleep walk,” Rose said.
“Correct.”
“Does that make me a luna - tic?”
“By definition, yes. Of course we know better.”
“I was going for humor, Ms. Harvey.”
“Oh. Right. By the way, you may want to look in the back seat.”
She turned around and saw two broom sticks laying horizontal on the leather interior.
“You made one?” Rose asked.
“Of course.”
She grabbed the one nearest to her, and felt its handle. There were many inscriptions.
They were in the center of Lake Pines. Everything seemed asleep. All of the shop lights were turned off and all of the businesses closed.
They found a safe place to stop the car, only one street away from Blume Park. After parking, Alexis gave her a concerned look.
Rose opened the latch, preparing herself to get out and make the sojourn there, through the black woods and dark flat lands.
“Rose?” The name sounded overwrought when murmured. “Please, come back safely. I‘ll know if you need help.”