by Denise Gwen
“Oh,” the girl said. “Well. Wow.”
“I’m Maddie, by the way.”
“Evangelina. Are you new here?”
“Yes,” Maddie said, then added, rather unnecessarily, “I’m an eighth grader.”
“And you’re from Salem?”
“Grew up there, yes.”
Evangelina considered this for a moment, then sipped her milk. “Wow. That is like, so, totally awesome.”
“I love Salem,” Maddie said.
“So, what brings you here?” Victoria asked. “Why did you leave Salem?”
Maddie hesitated. She’d practiced saying it; she’d rehearsed it with Mama and Nana until late last night, but now that she found herself actually saying it aloud to real, live humans, her nerve suddenly deserted her. What if they didn’t believe her? What if they thought she was lying? She inhaled, held her breath, and, in a quiet voice, said, “It’s like this. My mother’s an executive at a company that’s got offices all around the world, and she got this amazing job offer—to transfer to the main office in Cincinnati.”
“So why live in Batesville?” Victoria asked. “The commute to Cincinnati is murder. Didn’t your mother know that Highway Twenty-three is horrible? It’s one of the worst highways in the tri-state area.”
“Yeah,” Evangelina added. “You would’ve been so much better off living in Newtown or Anderson Township.”
“Or perhaps even New Richmond,” Victoria said.
“Oh, I know,” Maddie agreed, not quite understanding what the girls were saying. And then it occurred to her the girls were talking about her mother’s commute, as in her mother driving to work, like in a car, as opposed to flying there, on a broomstick.
“Well, we wanted to live in a nice, small town. And my mother commutes to work each day on her br—I mean, she drives to work every day, and she doesn’t mind the drive.” Maddie smiled brightly. “In fact, she loves it.”
There, did I say it right?
As the girls absorbed this information, Maddie sat there in an agony of uncertainty. Did she sound convincing enough? Did they believe her? What would she do if they started pressing for details? What if they asked for the name of the company—it didn’t occur to Maddie, not until this moment, of course, to ask her mother for the name of this mythical company—but now, as she sat here, in this noisy lunchroom, she wished they’d dreamed up some name for this imaginary company. What kind of work did her mother do? What kind of executive? Maddie didn’t possess a ready answer to any of these questions; she could simply kick herself. She wished she’d plotted this out better. With a sudden stab of horror, she realized she hadn’t thought it out far enough.
It’s like how Nana always says, the Devil is in the details.
Victoria fetched a heavy sigh. “My mom drives to Northern Kentucky every day to work, to Florence. She drives an hour each way. She’s in her car for two hours of every day.” She shook her head. “Everybody drives everywhere these days. It’s totally crazy.”
“I know,” Evangelina mused. “What’s up with that, anyway? My mom drives to Mason every day, and she says that Highway I-two-seventy-five is a nightmare.”
The girls nodded.
Maddie breathed a tiny sigh of relief.
“And your dad?” Victoria asked, smiling brightly at Maddie. “What does your dad do?”
Maddie blanched. At this precise moment, her father might be dead. She didn’t know for a certainty that he wasn’t dead; he just might be dead. And even if he wasn’t dead, he may as well be dead, because of the carbon dioxide freeze Ezekiel had thrown him into. That was one of the many reasons why the women fled Salem in the dark of night, and in such a dreadful hurry, for they were next. What an awful, awful night. Maddie shuddered with revulsion. She couldn’t bear the thought of looking into the eyes of the other girls and telling them her sad story. She gazed down fixedly at her plate of sodden food, fighting back tears.
“Oh, dear,” Victoria said. “I’m so sorry.”
How am I ever going to talk my way out of this one?
“Your parents are divorced?” Evangelina asked.
“You come from a broken home,” Victoria said.
“Yes,” Maddie said, nodding. “You could say that.”
“Oh wow,” Victoria said. “That’s so sad.”
“I come from a broken home, too,” Evangelina offered.
“Me too,” Victoria said. She reached across the table to squeeze Maddie’s hand. “Don’t worry about it. We understand. We understand completely.”
Maddie looked from Victoria to Evangelina, gazing into their sweet, trusting faces, and a lump rose in her throat.
“You guys are the best,” she said. “The very best.”
“We know how it is,” Evangelina said with a knowing smile, “to come from a broken home.”
“Yeah,” Maddie said.
I come from a broken home, all right. More possessed than broken, but broken sounds about right, too.
The bell rang.
“Time for Language Arts!” Victoria gathered her books. “You ready?”
Maddie nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”
****
Before the end of school that day, the students returned to their homerooms for final attendance and dismissal. Miss Couresant fixed her gaze on Maddie as she walked into the classroom. “Are you a Walker?”
A walker? A Day-Walker? What makes her think I’m a vampire?
Terror gripped Maddie’s throat. How in the world did this lady find her out? How in the world did this lady know she came from the land of witches and vampires?
“No, no—”
“She means,” Victoria explained, “are you walking home from school or taking a bus?”
“What, oh, oh!” Maddie cried out as a blush of shame rushed across her cheeks.
The jock behind her—the dork who’d told Maddie earlier in the day to get on her broom—guffawed loudly. The girls behind him snickered, but this time they snickered at Maddie.
“I’m sorry,” Miss Couresant said. “I should speak more clearly. What I meant to say is, Miss Salem, are you taking a bus home or are you walking home?”
“Or are you riding home on your broom?” the jock crooned under his breath.
“That’s enough, Derrick.”
“I’m walking home, ma’am,” Maddie said.
“Ma’am?” one of the girls chortled. “Did you hear her? She called the teacher ‘ma’am.’”
“That’s enough, Jackie,” Miss Couresant said. “I wouldn’t mind if a few more of you exercised good manners.”
Jackie flashed Miss Couresant an ironic smile but said nothing.
A wave of shame washed over Maddie. Why ever in the world did Mama insist that she go to school? So she could be tortured by all the mean kids? It just didn’t seem worth it, going to this much trouble. If she wanted to be tortured, all she needed to do was fly back to Salem Castle and—
“All right, everybody.” Miss Couresant clapped her hands. “All of you who ride the bus home, please report to the cafeteria now.”
Most of the homeroom classroom, including the snotty girls, stood up and sauntered out of the room, leaving behind Maddie, Victoria, and Derrick.
Maddie and Victoria sidled next to each other as five minutes passed with excruciating slowness. At last, the bell rang. Derrick jumped to his feet and ran from the classroom.
“You girls may leave now,” Miss Couresant said with a bright smile. “See you tomorrow.”
We’ll see. I’m not so sure about that.
“Bye, Miss Couresant,” Victoria called over her shoulder.
“Bye, girls.”
They walked out of the building together, their binders and books clutched against their chests. Through hooded eyelids, Maddie glanced over at Victoria’s chest and realized that witches weren’t the only creatures self-conscious about their bodies; human girls were just as self-conscious. Ever since Maddie’s body started developing last year, at about the same time she sta
rted her menses, she’d noticed all kinds of changes to her body; changes that made her feel clumsy and awkward and just plain ugly. Her hair started getting incredibly oily, even after she’d washed it thoroughly the night before. And speaking of oil, her face had erupted like an oil field in Texas. It took all of Nana’s skill with herbs and concoctions to help Maddie tame the hideous whiteheads popping out all over her face.
And then the rest of her body, well, she felt sometimes as if an alien had invaded her. An alien with budding boobs, hair down there, hair under her pits—a good witching place for hair, though—and a tummy that ached and cramped painfully every time the moon and her menses reached the point of fullness, at the middle of each month. Mama said it was wonderful to be turning into a woman, but Maddie didn’t agree. It was awful. Just awful.
So focused on her ruminations, she completely forgot her surroundings, until Victoria nudged her in the ribs. “Ooh, look at that pretty cat over there.”
“Oh yeah, where?” Maddie asked, and at the same moment she turned her head to look, she knew instantly who the cat would be.
Oh, Malamar. I’m so sorry, I forgot.
There stood Malamar, perched on the very same hillock where he’d been when Maddie walked into the school building earlier in the day.
But Maddie had forgotten.
Malamar narrowed his gaze as he telepathically sent his thoughts to her.
You forgot, didn’t you?
Yes, Malamar. I’m so sorry. I did forget.
“You know,” Victoria said, “there are an awful lot of cats in Batesville, but I gotta say, that one’s really pretty.”
“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?”
“How do you know it’s a male?”
“Oh.” Maddie racked her brain for a suitable response, then Victoria saved her from herself.
“You’re saying he’s a male on account of the fact he’s so big?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah.”
Victoria pursed her lips and studied Malamar, who preened with the attention. “You know, you may be right.” She turned and walked down the hill. “Anyway—”
“I’m gonna kill that cat!”
Maddie whirled around. Derrick, the dumb, mean, stupid jock, tore up the hill, screaming like a banshee, heading directly toward Malamar. Malamar, who’d been quietly fluffing out his fur, happily absorbing all the admiration flowing his way, jerked alert and wary as Derrick roared toward him.
“Malamar, I—”
“Aaaaaagh!” Derrick screamed.
Maddie’s heart thudded. She tried to think up an incantation to invoke, but the words died in her mouth. Why did she never know what to say or do at the proper moment, when she needed to know what to say or do? There were times, she hated herself. She really, really hated herself for being such a useless witch. She might as well be human, for all the good she did.
Malamar tensed, his back arched, his tail outstretched. Derrick had nearly reached him.
Come on, Malamar. Come on!
Then a curious thing happened. A swirl of tiny stars sprang from the ground around Malamar’s feet; they swirled around him as if they were a constellation and he the sun. They swirled and swirled, until they completely surrounded him, then a bright blue light exploded from the ground with a loud Poof!
Derrick yowled as a few stars singed his arms and legs. “Hey, what’s that?”
Miss Sterling stepped forward. “There will be no cursing on school grounds.”
“Did you just see that?”
“Did I just see what?” Miss Sterling asked, her arms crossed over her chest. “Did I just see what?”
“Did you just see—”
“Derrick, aren’t you supposed to be at football practice?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Then I suggest you get going.”
Derrick turned on his heel, a sheepish look on his face. As he lifted his seafoam green eyes, his gaze met Maddie’s. They stared at one another for a long moment.
He senses something. He senses a connection between Malamar and me.
“Come on, Maddie,” Victoria said. “Let’s go.”
“Okay.” Maddie dropped her gaze. As she walked down the hill with Victoria, the back of her neck prickled, the short hairs standing on end. It felt just as it had the night before, in the corridor, before the toxic cloud consumed her.
She spared one last, fleeting glance back up the hill to the school, but she didn’t see Derrick anywhere. All the same, her neck still prickled. Someone was watching her.
“I’d watch myself around him, if I were you,” Victoria said in a low voice.
“Yes,” Maddie agreed with a shiver. “I believe you.”
****
“Well,” Victoria said, hugging her books to her chest as the girls wound their way down Ely Street. “What do you want to do now?”
Maddie started. “Oh, I guess I ought to head home and get started on my homework.”
A mere subterfuge, on her part. She’d been so worried over the prospect of deliberating over her math problems, even with Malamar’s assistance, she’d already scanned the math pages ahead of time, and been pleasantly surprised to realize she knew the answers. Her photographic memory, nothing to do with being a witch, served all manner of purposes.
“Hm,” Victoria mused. “My mom won’t be home for hours.” She glanced slyly at Maddie. “Want to walk over to UDF, get some ice cream?”
“UDF? What’s that?”
Victoria goggled at her. “United Dairy Farmers, silly. How can you live in Cincinnati and not know what UDF means?”
Maddie’s expression cleared. “Oh, well, right. Sure, that sounds great.”
Although Maddie didn’t work out ahead of time the details with her mother and Nana as to her whereabouts immediately following school, she also knew that if Mama grew concerned enough, she could just haul out her crystal ball and see where Maddie’d wandered off to. She felt happier than she’d felt in days, and she skipped down the street with Victoria to the UDF.
As they neared the end of Ely, where it intersected with Clark Street, the girls cut through the back of the elementary school and ducked through the parking lot. From there, they emerged onto the front lawn of the elementary school on Broadway and turned left. A lovely Victorian house, painted in vibrant blues and purples and with stark white trim and shutters, stood immediately to the left of the elementary school.
Victoria nodded proudly at the house, with its gabled roof and turreted windows. “That’s my house.” Then, in a low voice, in case anybody might be listening, she added, “And it’s haunted.”
Maddie gazed at the stately Victorian with intense interest. “Oh, yeah?”
That’s right. I remember something Zippy said last night, about every other house in the village being haunted.
“Yeah,” Victoria said with a self-satisfied smile. “And I’m the only one in my family who’s seen the ghost in the attic.”
“Oh, really? Would you like to introduce me to him?”
Victoria glanced at her with surprise, then giggled. “Wow, you had me going for a minute there.”
“What?”
“For a minute there, I thought you were serious about seeing my ghost.”
“I am. I am serious. I want to meet him.”
Victoria giggled as the girls wandered up Riverside. “Oh, sure,” she said with an ironic chuckle, “why don’t I introduce you to my ghost!” She glanced at Maddie and laughed again.
What’s the big deal? I know lots of ghosts.
They reached Main, waited for the traffic light to turn, then crossed the street. As they drew near to the crowded store, Maddie saw someone she didn’t expect to see; Bettina, standing outside the store, her back leaned up against the concrete wall, sipping a soda and talking to a uniformed police officer.
The two sisters’ eyes met and Maddie flashed her sister a withering look as she followed Victoria into the store.
“Who’s that girl?” Victoria asked.
/> “Oh,” Maddie said with as airy a look as she could manage. “That’s my sister.”
“Gosh, she’s so pretty.”
“Oh, I suppose so.”
Victoria studied the array of ice creams before her. “Hm, what flavor do you think you’ll order?”
“Oh, I don’t know. They all look good.”
Victoria pressed a purple-nail-polished fingernail against the cold glass. “They’re running a special. Buy one scoop, get one scoop free.”
“Uh-huh,” Maddie murmured, only half-listening.
What in the world is Bettina up to, talking to a police officer?
She kept stealing glances out the window at Bettina but gleaned nothing from her vantage point.
Victoria ordered toffee-nut ice cream. Maddie ordered chocolate. Maddie paid for her ice cream cone with three of the soft green dollar bills Mama had made for her that morning. She made a mental note to herself to ask Mama to teach her the incantation so she could make her own dollar bills. At this rate, she’d run through her allotted dollar bills in no time at all.
As Maddie and Victoria stepped out of the store, licking their cones, Bettina finished her soda and tossed it into the trash. She caught sight of Maddie, grinned, and beckoned for her to draw near. “Maddie, I want to introduce you to Officer Colton.”
Officer Colton, a handsome young officer, extended his right hand. Maddie shook his hand first, then he gravely shook Victoria’s hand, as Bettina made the introductions.
“This is my little sister, Maddie, and this is her friend—”
“Victoria Burns,” Victoria said, extending her hand for a handshake.
“Very pleased to meet you ladies,” the officer said.
A tense silence followed.
“Well,” Bettina said in an overly enthusiastic voice, gazing directly at Maddie, “I suppose it’s time we got home.”
“Oh, well. Okay.” Maddie turned to Victoria. “See you tomorrow?”
“Okay,” Victoria said. “You don’t want to come to my house and get started on homework?”
Bettina slid behind Victoria, and as she said this, Bettina shook her head in a definite negative.
“I guess not,” Maddie said regretfully. “But maybe tomorrow, okay?”
