Crooks and Straights

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Crooks and Straights Page 16

by Masha du Toit


  Nico watched as he opened the box to reveal an ancient tape recorder, the size and shape of a shoebox.

  “Go ahead,” said the caretaker.

  Nico took the tape recorder with both hands.

  He turned it over.

  He opened the battery compartment.

  Slid the handle in and out.

  Pressed each of the chunky buttons in turn, and then, hearing the mechanism move, peered inside the cassette compartment. He struggled with the record button, which refused to go down.

  The caretaker sat and watched, never saying a word.

  “Would you like something to drink?” asked Gia. “Tea? Or coffee?” But the caretaker shook his head.

  Nico grumbled to himself, and then gave a little hoot of pleasure as he discovered that the play and record buttons could be pressed down together. Then he started prying at the panelling. The caretaker touched him on the arm to get his attention, and Gia thought he was going to tell Nico to be more careful. But instead he opened the toolbox and handed Nico a small screwdriver.

  Gia heard the front door close and her mother was back at the door, her arms full of fabric.

  “Thought I might as well come and work up here,” she said, her eyes on the two on the floor. Then she noticed Sonella, who was picking up the empty food containers. “Oh, thank you my dear, you are a sweetheart. You’ll find a bin in the kitchen, down there at the end of the corridor.”

  Saraswati sat at her little work table, and started setting out the pieces of lace and white satin. Sonella came back from the kitchen, and stood uncertainly at the door. Gia noticed that Ben also seemed at a loss for what to do, now that Nico was distracted by this new toy.

  “Hey,” she said. “Do you guys want to see my new room?”

  Ben jumped up.

  “Cool!” he said. “Let’s go.”

  -oOo-

  “Wow, this is so much better than your old room,” said Ben as he came through the trapdoor.

  “Oh, you’re so lucky,” said Sonella, following on his heels. “It’s really cosy. And such a great view!”

  “The roof rattles a bit at night, when the wind blows,” said Gia. “But I kind of like that.”

  Sonella was inspecting the bookshelf. “You’ve got such great books. I’ve not read this one,” she said, pulling out a volume. “Is it any good?”

  “It’s okay,” said Ben. “But it’s not the first in the series. I’ve got the first one. You can borrow it, if you like.”

  Gia watched as they looked through her books, amused. Ben had dropped his usual joking manner and treated Sonella with a gentle attentiveness that he never showed to Gia or Fatima. Soon they were all three sitting on the floor, chatting.

  Gia showed Sonella her doll, which was suitably admired, and the conversation turned towards what each of them planned to do once they finished school.

  “My mom expects me to go and study to be a dominee,” said Ben with a snort. “Like that’s ever going to happen. I don’t even go to church with her any more, but she still hopes that I’ll have some kind of conversion experience and realise that I’m destined for a religious life.”

  Sonella was still looking at the doll. “I’m a good girl, I’m afraid,” she said. “I wish I had a fantastic talent like this, and could go to art school, or study drama or something. But it looks like I’ll be doing just exactly what my parents expect. University.”

  “You still planning on taking First Exit, Gia?” asked Ben.

  Gia nodded.

  “Parents know about it yet?”

  Gia shook her head, and Ben laughed.

  “You know,” said Sonella suddenly. “I could swear I saw something sitting on the windowsill just now. But every time I look directly at it, there’s nothing there.”

  They all turned to look.

  “Must be one of the cats,” said Ben.

  “No,” said Gia. “I think I know what you mean. It feels as though something’s watching me, sometimes.”

  “I bet this house has some uncanny things about it,” said Ben. “Maybe this is your own little ghost.”

  Sonella seemed excited by the idea. “I bet that’s right. You should get somebody in to do some tests for you. Although, it’s more likely a brownie than a ghost.”

  “Well, actually,” said Gia. “We had a visit from a Special Branch sniffer unit yesterday.”

  This got their attention.

  “You’re joking,” said Ben, eyes wide.

  “It was horrible, actually,” said Gia. “They came banging in here yesterday morning. Just shoved right through the front door before I could stop them.”

  “But that’s illegal!” said Sonella. “They need a warrant. They can’t just barge in?”

  “I think they had a warrant. They had some bit of paper anyway.”

  “But why did they come?” Ben wanted to know. “They don’t just do random searches do they?”

  “I don’t know,” said Gia. “They had a werewolf with them and everything. Damn thing sniffed all through the house. It was seriously creepy.”

  Sonella looked even more worried. “That doesn’t make sense, Gia. Sniffer units, I know, well— my parents know about these things. Getting permission to search civilians is a long process. Or at least, it is at the moment. All that will change if the referendum goes the way it seems like it will, and all this Grey List stuff happens.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” said Gia. “But nothing really happened. They just left when they were done. But check this out.”

  She reached over and pulled the box out from next to the shelf. “There was one thing that the werewolf found, that did have traces of magic on it.”

  She was gratified by their reaction. Both Ben and Sonella stared at the box as though they expected it to levitate.

  “This is a box from one of the pantry cupboards,” she explained. “Left over from the woman who used to live here.” She paused and widened her eyes at them. “Seems she was a bit of a witch.”

  “No ways,” said Ben. “Well, go on, open it!”

  They both craned forward as she opened the box. “Oh,” said Ben, disappointment clear in his voice. “It’s just a bunch of old stuff.”

  But now Sonella took over.

  “She really must have been a witch,” she said. “Look. That’s the stuff you sprinkle around before a cleansing ceremony. And these are smudge sticks.”

  “You know a lot about it,” said Ben.

  “My mother’s a historian,” said Sonella. “She’s always telling me about things like this.”

  “What’s Rattlesnake Salt for?” asked Gia.

  “I think it’s just a tonic,” said Sonella. “It’s supposed to make you strong. But it looks old, it will be all worked out by now.”

  “These are the really interesting ones,” said Gia, lifting out one of the tea boxes.

  “Isn't it just tea?” said Sonella.

  “But read the label.”

  “Brennernissel” read Sonella. “That’s nettle tea.”

  “Go on, read the rest.”

  “Brennernissel. Steep gently, and do not stir. Opinionated and rather sour, but very well read. Use earthenware cup, the plainer the better.”

  Sonella looked up at Gia, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s a tea genie,” said Gia. “I called one up last night. It looks like— Like a little man, but all made of steam. And it’s a proper genie and everything. It brought me food.”

  “Now that’s more like it,” said Ben. “What are we waiting for!”

  “A tea genie?” said Sonella. “I’ve never knew there was any such thing. That’s amazing, Gia. And they still work? I mean, this tea looks pretty old.”

  “I put some in boiling water and it just appeared. Poof! Like in the stories.”

  “Do you think— Do you think we can try—?”

  But just at that moment, first Gia and then Ben’s texters beeped.

  They looked at one another.

&
nbsp; “Fatima,” said Gia, digging hers out of her pocket. “She must be coming over.”

  “Yep,” said Ben, reading his. “Fatima. She’s here already.”

  “I better go let her in,” said Gia, but a voice from below forestalled her.

  “Hello, up there!”

  Feet sounded on the steps and a moment later Fatima’s head appeared through the trapdoor.

  “Hi, Gia! Your mom let me in. Hey, Ben, you here too.”

  “Fatima,” said Gia. “This is Sonella, my friend from school. Sonella, Fatima.”

  For a moment Fatima seemed to Gia like a cat— a plump, pretty, domestic cat, eyeing an intruder and deciding whether it was worth unsheathing her claws.

  But all she did was smile, and say, “Hi there.”

  Her glance fell on the box and its contents.

  “What’s all this then?”

  “Some stuff I found,” said Gia. “Magical stuff. Looks like the previous owner here was a witch.”

  Fatima shuddered dramatically. “Ugh,” she said, and sat on the bed. “Magic stuff. Ben, don’t touch, that’s disgusting.”

  Ben was rummaging through the box, lifting out bottles and boxes to read their labels. “Most of these seem to be stomach medicines. And these are somebody’s reading glasses.”

  He reached for them, a spindly pair with round lenses and wire frames. Then he dropped them again as if he’d been shocked.

  “Damn,” he said, grimacing. “Damn.”

  “There, see,” said Fatima. “Told you to leave it alone.”

  “What’s wrong?” said Sonella, but he shook his head at her.

  “Give me— a moment. Damn. It’s okay.”

  Gia, who’d seen this happen before, watched as Ben tried to recover his equilibrium.

  “That was a bad one,” she said. “Did you get a feeling off the glasses?”

  Ben nodded, then glanced at Sonella, and Gia realised that he was acutely embarrassed.

  Sonella just looked mystified.

  “Ben can know about things, sometimes, by touching them,” said Fatima. “Like, he can tell who used to wear something, what they were like, where they lived, and so on. But it doesn’t work with everything.”

  “But that’s psychometry!” said Sonella, clearly impressed.

  They all stared at her.

  “Being able to divine the history of an object by touching it?” she said. “That’s called psychometry. That’s amazing Ben. Can you really do that?”

  “Yep,” said Ben wryly. “Never heard it called that. My mom calls it my ‘weakness’. When she ever mentions it.”

  “It’s just Ben’s knack,” said Fatima, dismissively.

  “But—” Sonella seemed at a loss for words. “That’s more than a knack. Psychometry is really rare. Especially if you get it strongly. Have you had any training on how to use it?”

  Ben shook his head. “It’s really not something we talk about in my family.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry,” said Sonella, seeing his discomfort. “I’m being rude. It’s just that in my family, there are lots of people with, well, knacks. Talents, you know.”

  She was talking quickly and smiling at Ben, clearly trying to set him at ease.

  “Like, my aunts for example, Tannie Hessie and Tannie Amanda who are living with us at the moment. Tannie Hessie is a medium. She speaks to ghosts and things, and Tannie Amanda is a green witch. She’s really good with plants. They can’t stand each other.”

  “That must be awkward,” said Fatima, and Gia saw that the cat was back.

  Sonella did not notice her tone.

  “It is!” she said eagerly. “Just yesterday, Tannie Hessie wanted to watch Days of our Lives and Tannie Amanda wouldn’t let her. She says the television signals interfere with her plants. So then Tannie Hessie said that a cake that Tannie Amanda had just baked was haunted. She called it the ‘cake of doom’ and wouldn’t let any of us touch it.”

  Sonella laughed.

  “Tannie Amanda said it was all nonsense, but she didn’t eat any of the cake either.”

  “Sounds like they both belong in Valkenberg,” said Fatima. “They can join the rest of the freakshow.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  Sonella went red in the face and seemed about to say something, but clearly thought better of it.

  Ben was the first to speak again. “I better get going. It’s getting late.”

  “Need a lift?” said Fatima quickly.

  “Um—”

  “Course you do. Gia, you coming out with us tonight?”

  Gia shook her head, and Fatima shrugged. “Oh well. Next time then.”

  “Bye,” said Ben to Sonella. “Nice meeting you. I’ll give that book to Gia, she can give it to you. Or maybe you can come out with us some time?”

  “That sounds good.” said Sonella. “Bye, then.”

  -oOo-

  “I don’t think your friend likes me,” said Sonella as they climbed down the stairs a few minutes later.

  “Fatima?” said Gia. “I don’t know what was wrong with her today. She’s really nice, most of the time.”

  “Um.”

  Sonella stood for a moment, staring down at her feet.

  “Is there something wrong with Ben and his mom?”

  “I don’t really know his mom that well,” said Gia. “She’s super-religious and uptight. And I think, well, you know how it is, nobody ever says anything out loud, but I always got the impression that his father left because of some magical thing.”

  “What do you mean?” said Sonella, intrigued.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I got it wrong. He never speaks about his dad, and I just got the impression that he was a magical. And that’s why he left. Sounds dumb now that I say it out loud.”

  She shrugged helplessly. “But I think that’s why Ben’s a bit touchy about his knack.”

  “Oh.”

  Sonella walked slowly, then turned to face Gia. “I hope I didn’t go and say something to upset him?”

  “No!” said Gia. “Ben’s cool. You saw him. He’s not upset.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s go get your magazine clippings.”

  They found the living room floor covered with small machine parts. At some point, somebody had fetched the dismantled overlocker, and Nico was setting out all the pieces in an organised explosion all over the carpet. He held up one piece at a time, and the caretaker told him what it was, and what it did, and then Nico decided where on the carpet it belonged.

  “Is he fixing it?” Gia mouthed at her mother, who was putting the final touches to the lace bodice.

  “Who can tell?” Saraswati said.

  It had been a long time since Gia had seen her mother looking so happy, and so relaxed.

  Gia walked Sonella partway home, helping her carry the magazine cuttings.

  “You’re sure you’ll be fine the rest of the way?” she said as they parted before the footbridge over the Eastern Boulevard.

  “Sure. My house is over there, you can just about see it from here. See you Monday.”

  “See you!”

  -oOo-

  That night, Gia lay awake in the dark, thinking over the day’s events.

  She was drifting off when there was a knock on the trapdoor.

  “It’s open,” she said. “Come in.”

  She heard the trapdoor slide aside, and reached for the light switch.

  “Don’t switch on the light.”

  Saraswati appeared, holding a small, glowing object that lit her face and arms. A small, round cake with three tiny candles burning on top of it.

  Gia sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

  “Happy Birthday,” said Saraswati. “A little late, but not forgotten.”

  She sat on the bed and held out the cake.

  “Go ahead. Blow them out.”

  Gia blew, and the candles flickered and went out, leaving only the hot scent of wax.

  “Your father and I have been wa
iting for an evening when we're both home, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen for a while,” said Saraswati in the candle-scented dark. “So we’ll just have to have our delayed celebration, just the two of us.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I know the move has been hard on you, Gia. And you’ve been very good about your birthday getting lost in all of the fuss. But birthdays are important.” Saraswati gave a little laugh. “Sixteen! It’s so hard to believe. The little babe that I held in my arms has become a young woman.”

  She plucked the candles one by one. Then she brought out a flat parcel wrapped in tissue paper.

  “Happy birthday, Gia.”

  The parcel was soft under its wrapping, and surprisingly heavy for its size.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “That’s from both me and your father. He really wanted to be here when you opened it. But there was another client to entertain tonight. Oh, don’t worry about the paper. Just tear it open.”

  Gia tore the tissue wrapping. The light from the window was enough to reveal what she held, but she could tell what it was even without that. Her hands moved over the soft folds of fabric.

  “Oh, Mom, it’s beautiful.”

  “Let’s get some more light on it.”

  Saraswati switched on the bedside lamp. “Go ahead, try it on.”

  The dress was dark, almost black, but shone with hints of deepest marine, shades of blue and green. The fabric had a subtle pattern, long, flowing shapes like undulating ferns. It was a simple cut, all the lines gentle curves, from the scooped neckline to the graceful fall of the full skirt. Gia spun where she stood, delighting in the swirl of the heavy fabric around her.

  “Let me see.” Saraswati, one hand on Gia’s shoulder, looked her over with a professional eye.

  She ran a hand down a side seam, then tugged the sleeves.

  “I was worried it would be too tight— it’s not too tight, is it?”

  “It’s perfect, Mom.”

  Gia buried her hands in the skirt, which felt as soft as rose petals. “I guess I better take it off now.”

  Saraswati laughed. “You’ll have plenty of chances to wear it soon enough. Give it here, I’ll hang it up for you.”

  Gia drew the dress off, holding it up to her face for a moment. It smelt so new.

 

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