Cursing Fate

by Brenda Drake

  Chapter Seven

  Iris

  Iris slammed her bedroom door, locked it, and dropped her backpack on the floor. “Where are you? You get inside my head when I don’t want you there and jump ship when I want to talk to you.”

  Well, someone is liverish today. If I knew you desired to speak with me, I would have answered. I thought you wanted me silent.

  “I do want you silent.” Iris crossed the room, removed the panel, and took the hatbox out of its hiding place. She plopped down on the bed with it and untied the ribbon. Her stomach dropped as she lifted the deck of tarot cards, and her fingers shook as they gripped the braided hair. She secured the rope around the deck, then snatched up the matchbox beside the candles on her nightstand and placed her used cereal bowl on her knees.

  She eyed the three-quarters-full water bottle beside her alarm clock as she took out a match. One strike, two strikes, three… The match ignited. She put the flame against the glossy purple box with green vines on it. The flame danced across the surface before going out. There wasn’t a burn mark. Iris lit another one, and the same thing happened.

  Are you quite finished? I could have told you it would not burn, but you wished me silent. Only the fate changer who controls the cards can destroy them.

  Iris tossed the bowl, cards, matches on the bed and pressed her palms against her eyes. “What did you do to her? To Lauren? And how did that card––how did it fall out?”

  I only did what you wanted me to—deep in the corners of your mind. Revenge. She abandoned you when you needed her most.

  “Go away. Just go away. Leave me alone.” She rubbed her eyes and slid the hatbox to her side. At touching the notebook, a sharp pain shocked her head like a lightning strike across her skull.

  You shouldn’t touch what isn’t yours. Pick up the deck.

  “No,” Iris said, barely audible.

  Not this again. I hate causing you pain, dear one.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  You hurt me. I thought we understood each other. Do as I wish, and there will be no pain.

  Iris groaned in agony. It was as if her brain were being wrung out like a dishtowel. She was nauseous, so she picked up the wastepaper basket and leaned over it. It’s a tumor. I must have a tumor or something. She heaved into the trash. Her throat was on fire. She grabbed the half-filled water bottle and chugged it down.

  Another sharp pain hit her right temple and she winced. “Stop. Please.”

  Had enough, dear one?

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  The tarot cards. Pick them up.

  The pain subsided and her stomach settled. Iris put down the trash can and picked up the deck. She needed help. No one would believe her if she told them what was happening to her. Or maybe they would. Especially after all the crazy stuff that went down with Aster. She had to tell Violet. Her sister would help.

  Sit down! The voice sounded pissed. I would never let you tell anyone about me. You do, I will force you to give them a bad fate.

  Iris sat back down on the bed and picked up the tarot cards.

  Shuffle through them.

  She flipped over a card at a time onto her turquoise comforter with the white irises on it. The images on the cards were blurry with the tears glossing her eyes. She had entered a nightmare and had no idea how to get out of it.

  No, not that one.

  Iris flipped another card.

  That won’t do, either.

  And another.

  Hmm… The Justice card. That could work. Touch it.

  Iris decided not to fight it. How could she anyway? The woman was in her head. She knew her thoughts. She could hurt her family.

  I’m pleased to see you’ve finally accepted that.

  “You’re ruining my life.”

  Nonsense. I’m helping you.

  She touched the card with a queen wearing a red robe, sitting on a throne, and holding up a sword. Inky black moved across the green vines, consuming them. “Who gets this one?”

  That worm. Perry.

  Iris’s head was floating. “What will it do to him?”

  He harms others, so he shall suffer.

  “You won’t hurt or kill him, will you?”

  No. An eye for an eye.

  “If I give it to him, you’ll leave me alone?”

  Yes. I get tired and must rest. I am new to this body.

  “All right.” Iris wasn’t too sure she should trust the woman or spirit or whatever she was. How did Iris know the spirit would keep her word? It was a spirit, after all. Was there even a code ethics for specters?

  That’s my dear. Tomorrow will be judgment day for Perry.

  “Please stop calling me dear,” Iris said.

  There was no response from the voice. Blood trickled from Iris’s nose. She touched the wetness with her fingertips and stared at the red stain on her skin. “Oh my God—” A guttural sob broke from her lips. “What are you doing to me?” She yanked out a few tissues from a box on her crowded nightstand. Holding her nose with the tissue, she leaned her head back. Please…just leave me alone.

  When the silence lasted for more than ten minutes, Iris put the things back in the hatbox and returned it to its hiding place under the window seat.

  Someone knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Just a minute!” Iris held the tissue to her nose with one hand as she put the panel back in place with the other one, then she slipped the tarot card in the front pocket of her backpack. “Come in.”

  Violet eased open the door. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  She stepped into the room. “I don’t know. Could it be you’re banging things around and your nose is bleeding?”

  “I hit it looking for something.” Iris removed the tissue and dabbed at her nose to see if it was still bloody.

  “And what is that smell? Did you puke?”

  “Yeah,” Iris said, placing her hand on her stomach. “I must’ve eaten something bad today.”

  Violet looked as if she wasn’t sure what to do or if she should go. Actually, Iris wasn’t sure, either.

  Grasping her hands behind her back and brushing the carpet back and forth with the toe of her shoe, Violet definitely had something on her mind.

  “What is it?” Iris asked. The expression on her sister’s face concerned her. It was a cross between worry and begging. She was about to drag Iris into something. Usually, it was some cause. They’d participated in many before. From save the dolphins to recycling campaigns.

  “Lauren,” she said. “I’m worried about her. I know how she feels. It sucks being violated like that.”

  “Okay.” Where was she going with this?

  “Okay? That’s it?” She walked across the room and sat on the window seat. “She wants to talk to you. To apologize and maybe get to be friends again.”

  Iris sighed, a long, drawn-out one. “When I needed her the most, she turned her back on me. She stood by and let them bully me so many times. I can’t even—”

  “She’s not happy about it.”

  “I’m not happy about it. Who cares if she’s not?” Iris glanced at the bloody tissue in her hand before dropping it in the wastebasket.

  “She was scared.”

  “I was scared.”

  Violet huffed. “Will you stop doing that?”

  Iris noticed the panel underneath where Violet was sitting hadn’t been secured properly. Though her sister knew the hatbox was hidden in there, Iris worried she would get suspicious with the panel loose and ask Iris if she’d been messing with the hatbox.

  “Doing what?” Iris sat at the edge of her bed, trying to keep her eyes from going to the panel.

  “That repeating thing you’re doing.”

  “Repeating thing?”

  Violet let out an exasperated breath. “See, that. You keep repeating whatever I say.”

  The doorbell ringing downstairs muffled through the walls. “That must be Wade here to tutor me,” Iris said, grateful to
get Violet out of her room.

  Violet stood when Iris did. “I feel like we got nowhere with this. Anyway, I think we should show some empathy and accept Lauren into our group. Carys agrees. And we’re going to throw a huge Halloween party. No one needs Josh and his zombies or Marsha’s crazy parties. Someone always gets hurt at them. Lauren isn’t the only one who was tricked into taking damaging photographs, you know. If we all band together, they’ll be outnumbered and they won’t be able to hurt people anymore.”

  Iris hated Marsha’s parties. Violet was right, bad things always happened at them.

  “We only have a few weeks to plan the party,” Violet said. “So are you in?”

  Iris opened the door. “You seriously need a nomination for sainthood. If you can forgive her for doing terrible things to you, then I can try. Keyword being try here. I’m on decorations. And my zombies will definitely resemble Josh and company.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Violet said and hugged Iris from behind. “We can change the world, you and me.”

  “Seriously?” Iris chuckled. “We haven’t said that in years.”

  “But it’s true, right?” She bopped down the hall to her room.

  “I doubt it,” Iris muttered, watching her as she closed her bedroom door. How Violet had turned around from complete desperation to faithful hope was beyond Iris’s comprehension. The meds and doc must be a great recipe. Maybe she should seek help from Violet’s doctor. Because if it wasn’t magic haunting her, then Iris was going certifiably insane. And if it was magic, she was determined to find a way to stop it. She suspected that hatbox had the clues she needed, but the voice wouldn’t let her explore it.

  Miri. The woman who had tested her and Violet to see if they were fate changers. She would know.

  Iris waited to hear if the craggy voice would get mad at her. The only sound was the voice of her little sister, Daisy, and Wade coming from downstairs. The voice had said she needed rest, and the old bat probably wasn’t listening to Iris’s thoughts now. She rushed to her desk, wrote a quick note, and stuffed it into her backpack.

  Chapter Eight

  Wade

  A brisk wind came off the ocean, carrying a scent of salty fish. No one was around. The only sound came from the boats rocking in the small waves and banging against the docks. Wade stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced over at Iris. She wrapped her arms around her body; he was sure her thin jean jacket didn’t offer much warmth against the autumn night. Noticing her lip shiver slightly, he tugged his hands free and started to remove his leather coat.

  Iris stopped.

  Wade turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”

  The lights coming from the boathouse lit her face and made her eyes look like blue bottle glass. “You don’t have to do that,” she said. “My jacket is fine. Besides, you need yours.” She smiled then. “I do appreciate the gesture, though.”

  “Will you just let me do this?” he said, removing it and draping it over her shoulders. She could be real stubborn sometimes. “I’m not trying to show ownership or anything. When a guy offers his coat, it’s about chivalry. Plus, my mom would bust my butt if I didn’t. And you never want to get a Cuban woman angry.”

  “Way to stereotype your mom.”

  “I’m not.”

  She laughed. “Yes you are. Your mom is hardly ever mad. She’s pretty reasonable. And impressive. A lawyer. Running for senate—”

  He groaned, cutting her off. “All I wanted to do was show I cared and keep you warm.”

  “You didn’t let me finish,” she said. “I was going to say, and she raised a caring and awesome son.” She lightly bumped her shoulder into him and smirked. “And a pretty handsome one at that.”

  He smiled at her compliment. “Okay, I get it. I shouldn’t be so sensitive.”

  She lowered her head, watching her steps. “I like the sensitive types.”

  The wind blew Iris’s hair around her face and she brushed it aside. Damn, she was beautiful. And pretty cool, when she wasn’t breaking his heart. She out-ate him in dollar hot dogs at the school fair once. Could belch louder than him after drinking a Dr Pepper. Even bested him in chess too many times it would make his balls shrink to admit. And she was cute while doing it all.

  They walked close together on the narrow decking, their fingers briefly brushing against each other. She jumped a little and quickly moved her hand away.

  He wanted to hold her hand, but something kept him from making the play. Nerves? Uncertainty? There was a voice continuously looping in his head. Something his dad had always said. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me. Or was it fool me? Whatever it was, it made sense.

  Could he trust her? That’s what kept playing in his head. He hated feeling insecure when it came to Iris. To his once best friend.

  Just then, she glanced at him. Her smile was dazzling, and that cute upturned nose with a dusting of freckles strangled his heart. All the memories. All the time they’d been best friends. They were all outweighed by the one time she had crushed him. Whatever the reason she did it or however good her intentions were, it still hurt.

  They approached his grandfather’s sailboat, and he offered his hand to help her onboard.

  “Oh my gosh, Wade,” she said as he stepped up after her. “It’s beautiful. It looks brand new. You’ve done so much work on it.”

  He was proud of it. The recent paint and varnish had brought new life to it. “I only need a new sail and I can bring it out for a run. It’s taking forever to raise the money, though.”

  “Won’t your parents help you with some of the cost?”

  He picked up the LED lantern and turned it on. “My mom doesn’t like my sailing, and this is a surprise for my dad. I’m hoping it’ll lift his spirits, you know. He used to sail with my papa when he was younger. I made this for him.” He directed the lamp’s light to the ramp he’d constructed. His dad had been paralyzed when a drunk driver crushed his Lexus.

  “How is your dad doing?”

  Wade lowered his arm, the light following his movement. “The locomotor training is working. He can stand and take a few steps now.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Yeah, we’re hopeful. This way,” he said, nodding toward the cabin.

  She didn’t move, giving him a curious eye.

  “It’s not what you think.” He chuckled and stepped down into the cabin, putting the lamp on the table just as she landed off the bottom step.

  “Oh wow, this is amazing. Something smells good. Were you cooking in here?”

  He grinned as he watched her inspect the newly updated kitchenette and varnished cabinets. The cabin did turn out better than he thought it would. It was like the inside of one of those expensive campers he saw with his dad at a trade show once.

  “A man gave me the appliances,” he said. “His boat got it bad in the last hurricane. Carys did the upholstering and decorated the place.”

  She stopped at the table Wade had arranged with one of his mom’s tablecloths and two full place settings of her china and silver. “You really outdid yourself.”

  “I thought it would be cool to start at the beginning. You know, how I used to cook for you all the time back when we were friends.” He took the lighter out of the kitchen drawer and lit the tea lights in the middle of the table.

  She gave the candles a suspicious look.

  “And these aren’t for romantic effect,” he said. “We just need more light. Have a seat.” Yeah, it totally looked romantic. He should’ve gone with paper plates, but he hadn’t had the time to buy any.

  “I’m so impressed,” she said, sliding into the booth.

  The oven was still warm, though he’d turned it off more than thirty minutes ago when he went to pick up Iris. He opened the oven door, removed the tray from within, and closed it with his knee. After he placed the tray on the side of the table, he scooted across the bench seat next to Iris.

  She looked from the tray to Wade. “You made pota
to balls?”

  “Papas rellenas,” he said.

  “I know.” She smiled. “I just like how you say that.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I hope that’s okay,” He removed the tinfoil from a bowl full of salad on the table.

  “Are you kidding?” She took the paper napkin from the etched floral plate and unfolded it. “I love them. I miss going to your house for dinner. Your grandmother taught you well.”

  “I’ll tell her you said so the next time she calls.” Wade spooned some salad onto a plate and set it in front of Iris, and then he scooped some onto a plate for himself.

  After piling on a few fried balls filled with mashed potatoes and spicy beef, Iris took a crunchy bite, most of the insides escaping and plopping on her plate. “Delicious,” she said, which came out somewhat incoherent with her mouth full.

  When they were finished, Wade served flan and tea with cream.

  Iris leaned back against the cushions. “I feel spoiled. Working at your uncle’s restaurant is really paying off.”

  “Yeah, I enjoy it. I’m thinking of going to culinary school after graduation.”

  “It’s really cool he uses your grandmother’s recipes.”

  “It was hard getting them out of her. She’d take them to her grave if she could.” Wade stretched back on the cushions behind him.

  The boat rocked as they sat there, neither one speaking, the faint sound of the waves lapping against the boat’s hull filling the silence. Wade adjusted on his seat, his fingers barely touching Iris’s hand.

  He was crazy to be so nervous around her. It was Iris. They’d known each other forever. Her leg brushed against his and excitement rushed through him. They stared at each other, and he fought back the urge to kiss her.

  Friends. But I want to be more than that.

  She had a way of making him fall. Like a bird with a broken wing, falling and spinning out of control. He thought about straightening to break the intense eye contact going on between them. It was like a magnetic field pulling them closer. He lowered his head, but before their lips met, her eyebrows crinkled and she straightened, moving away from him.

  She clutched her head and groaned. Her breaths went heavy and she leaned back against the cushions.