by Jack Massa
When I get home, I trudge up the steps all sweaty and panting, and open the front door. Granma is lying in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.
She looks up at me, grimacing with pain. “Abby, I fell.”
“Oh no!” I kneel beside her. “Granma, what happened?”
One leg is underneath her, the other stretched out. That leg is bruised and swollen around the ankle. I’ve seen sports injuries, but nothing like this. Granma is almost weeping from the pain.
“I fell on the steps. I think I broke something.”
“What should I do?”
“Call 911. Get an ambulance.”
I rush into her study and punch in the call. They take the information and promise to send an ambulance right away. I tell them Granma is conscious and that her ankle is swollen. They suggest I get her to sit up, then elevate the ankle and put ice on it.
I go back to the hall and tell Granma what they said. I help her sit up on the bottom step.
“Never mind the ice,” she says. “Listen. I was coming down the stairs, and…it felt like someone pushed me. I think our evil entity is back.”
“Oh god.”
“I want you to go up to my room. My dagger is in the top drawer of my dresser. Bring it to me. I’ll try to cast some protection around us.” As I start up the steps, she adds, “Abby, be careful!”
Climbing the stairs, I half expect Raspis to jump out at me. I don’t see him, but now I think I can feel his presence, smell him. On my guard, I walk into Granma’s room. I find her dagger and bring it to her.
She takes it and tries to sit up straight. She starts to chant, but her voice is weak and broken. Finally she gives up and hands me the dagger.
“You’d better do it, sweetie. Draw a circle of protection around us. Trace pentagrams at the four directions. Then command all evil to be gone.”
I push down my fear and stand straight. I trace the circle and pentagrams, visualizing them as blue fire. I point the dagger at the ceiling and then at the floor: “I command all evil spirits to leave this place.” Then I add, “I know your true name, Raspis. By the power of the Springs, I command you to be gone!”
Granma stares at me, dull surprise mixed in with the pain. I visualize blue protective water flowing up and filling the space around us.
After thirty minutes, the ambulance arrives. The med techs, a guy and a woman, check Granma’s vital signs and examine her leg. They explain they’re going to take her to the emergency room, and suggest I get her insurance card and anything else she might want.
I run upstairs and get her purse. Then I go into my room and take my backpack and phone. By the time I get downstairs, they’ve wheeled in the stretcher and are lifting Granma onto it. She grunts a little as they lay her down.
I ride in the back of the ambulance and Granma holds my hand most of the way. She asks if they can give her something for the pain, but they tell her she needs to see the doctor first. The hospital is seventeen miles away, on the outskirts of a town called Weaver. Even with the siren going, it takes almost twenty minutes to get there.
They wheel Granma through the emergency room and into a curtained waiting area. A nurse takes her insurance card and ID, then comes back a while later and has her sign papers. Granma asks again for pain meds. The nurse says they’ll be with her as soon as they can.
Forty minutes later I’m at the front counter complaining, begging them to send someone to help my Granma. I try to channel my inner power, and it seems to work. Or maybe they just finally get around to seeing her. A doctor and nurse come in and check her. The doctor’s an Asian woman and the nurse is a tall man with blond hair and a beard. They give Granma a shot for the pain, then wheel her down the hall for an x-ray.
By now I’m feeling woozy. While Granma is having her x-ray done, I find the vending machines and get a protein bar and a coffee with cream and sugar. I take them into the waiting room. The place is filled with injured and suffering people wearing hopeless, dazed expressions. Two TVs are playing with the sound up high, perhaps to drown out any moaning or complaining. It feels suffocating, so I go outside and sit on the edge of a planter.
I’m sticky with sweat and I smell awful, but at least the nourishment ramps up my blood sugar. For the first time, I have a chance to think. My brain zeroes in on what Granma said: someone tried to push her down the stairs.
Raspis said that Granma and Kevin and Violet would have to die. Now he’s trying to make good on the threat.
I take out my phone. There’s a text from Molly, asking if I’m okay after last night, and what’s our next step in the investigation. I leave that for later and call Violet. She picks up on the second ring.
“Abby, I knew it was you. Is everything all right?”
I blurt out that we’re at the medical center in Weaver and that Granma may have broken her ankle or foot. That Raspis pushed her down the stairs.
“Slow down, dear. Who is Raspis?”
I get a grip and start from the beginning. I tell her about my meeting with Annie at the coffee shop and my conversation with Otis last night.
“Abby, that is fantastic,” Violet says. “I knew you were gifted, but what you’ve accomplished here is terrific.”
“It’s not terrific, Violet! We’re in danger. All of us.”
“Calm down, dear. I understand about the danger. But you’ve given me much more to go on. Knowing the entity’s true name helps a lot. And I was right about the full moon. But Mars conjunct Saturn—I never would have thought. I never was much of an astrologer…”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet.” She pauses. “You just take care of Kathryn. Get her home safe, then throw a lot of protection around the house. Leave the rest to me.”
“Violet, be careful. Remember what Annie said: you can’t cast magical energy at him. He just soaks it up.”
“Yes, I understand. Don’t worry about me, dear. And go ahead with the Second Advancement. You’re doing fine.”
She hangs up, and I stare at the phone shaking in my hand. I’m more worried than ever. Violet does not seem to understand how grave this is.
Or maybe she does, and she’s just trying to keep me from losing it.
I think about calling Molly but decide I’d better go check on Granma. I find her in another curtained alcove, where they’ve parked her to wait for the x-ray results. She’s in less pain now and talks to me about her fall.
“I was halfway down the stairs when suddenly I sensed someone behind me. Then I felt a push in the small of my back. If I hadn’t been able to grab the banister, I might have broken my neck.”
I take a deep breath and tell her about my talk with Annie Renshaw, and what she said about Raspis—and how it’s all coming to a head.
When I finish, Granma’s face is white. “It really is true. He said he would kill us all, and now…Abby, this is bad. We have to warn Violet.”
“Already did. She said I should just get you home and then surround the house with protection.”
Granma nods vacantly, a look of shock on her face. She reminds me of a child who’s been traumatized. I squeeze her hand. “Try not to worry, Granma. It will be okay.”
I hope.
Three hours later, we’re camped out in a waiting room in a medical building across from the hospital. The x-rays showed a small fracture and some ligament tears. The ER doctor fitted Granma with a walking boot and prescribed pain meds. She also said Granma needed to make an appointment with an orthopedist.
Since Granma won’t be able to drive for at least two weeks, she asked if she could get an appointment today. It took us both a lot of begging and haranguing at the front desk, but finally they got the orthopedist to agree to fit her in at two thirty. We had lunch in the hospital cafeteria, and then I wheeled Granma across the parking lot and up an elevator.
My phone chirps, and I see a
nother text from Molly—just a row of question marks. I step out into the hallway and call her.
“Where you been, girl?”
“Weaver. At the medical center.”
“What!?”
I explain how my day has gone.
“Oh my god. Is your grandma okay?”
“She’s in a walking boot. We’re waiting to see a specialist now.”
“How are you going to get home?”
“I’ll have to call a taxi.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll get Ray-Ray to pick you up.”
“Oh no. Don’t bother him.”
“He’ll want to. He doesn’t start work till eight. He’s just sitting around.”
“No, really.”
“Abby, he’ll want to. What time is your grandma’s appointment?”
“Two thirty.”
“Text me the doctor’s name. We’ll be there.”
The orthopedist sees Granma at a quarter to three. He says the x-ray looks pretty clear but suggests it might be worth having an MRI, just in case. Granma says she’d rather not. She really just wants to go home. The doctor frowns but agrees to skip the MRI, provided that Granma calls him if the pain gets worse, and that she makes another appointment for next week. Granma starts to argue about that, but I tell her not to worry: I’ll get her here next week no matter what.
Outside the doctor’s office, we find Ray-Ray sitting in the waiting room.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here,” Granma says.
“Not a problem, Miss Kathryn.” He looks at me. “Molly wanted to come too, but my truck only seats three. She offered to ride in the bed, but of course that’s not happening.”
“I really appreciate this.” I’m afraid my voice sounds weepy—I’m so glad to see him.
“Not a problem.”
We take Granma back to the ER and trade in her wheelchair for a pair of crutches. After making sure she’s okay on the crutches, Ray-Ray goes out to get his truck. I walk beside Granma, ready to support her as she slowly makes her way through the emergency room.
Ray-Ray’s pickup is about ten years old. The body’s a little battered, but the motor hums solid and steady. I slide into the front seat, and Ray-Ray helps Granma get in beside me. She’s grimacing a little but says she’s okay. Ray-Ray gets behind the wheel and drives out of the parking lot.
“Sorry it’s not a luxury ride,” he says.
I use his line: “Not a problem.” I’m self-conscious about sitting close to him, given the state I’m in. “Sorry I didn’t get a shower this morning.”
He laughs and pats my knee.
As we near Harmony Springs, it starts sinking in for Granma how she’s going to be incapacitated for a while. “I don’t know how we’re going to manage, Abby. Do you think you can run the shop by yourself, maybe just a few days a week?”
“Sure, Granma. I can walk into town or maybe get a ride from Molly.”
“You don’t have your license yet?” Ray-Ray asks.
“Just a learner’s permit. In New Jersey you have to be seventeen.”
“Can you drive your grandmother’s car?”
“Yes. She’s given me a couple of lessons.”
“You’ll be all right, then,” he says. “Just stay off the county roads. Given the circumstances, I’m sure your friendly local police will give you a pass.”
Ray-Ray pulls the truck up close to Granma’s front porch. We help her up the steps and into the living room. She sits on the couch, and I prop up her foot on a pillow.
Ray-Ray asks if there’s anything else he can do. Granma says no, but wouldn’t he like something to eat or drink?
“No, thanks. I ought to go. I’m sure Molly will be out to see you both later today or tomorrow. But if there’s anything I can do, please don’t be shy about calling me.”
He looks at me when he says that last part. I think about how I’ve liked him for a while…but never so much as this moment.
When Ray-Ray’s gone, I walk all over the house, checking out the psychic energy. Then I take Granma’s dagger and cast a circle of protection around the entire house, raising up as much power as I can.
With that done, I go upstairs and finally get my shower. I stand under the hot water for a long time. Tears come, and I let them, sobbing until they’re all gone.
After that I fix us dinner, then clean up the kitchen. I help Granma with a sponge bath and make up the couch with sheets and pillows. She’s going to be sleeping downstairs for a while—no way she’s making it up to her bedroom on those crutches.
Granma and I are both worn out, so at nine thirty I head up to bed. I tell Granma I’ll leave my door open so she can call me if she needs anything.
After undressing, I’m too tired to read or even to do the Ablution exercise. I collapse into bed.
But my brain is too wired for sleep. I’m scared, and it feels like no one can help me. Granma is injured. Mom’s on the other side of the ocean. Violet is trying, but I’m afraid she’s out of her depth. Molly and Ray-Ray care about me, but they live in a different universe.
Whatever is coming with the full moon, I’m going to face it alone.
21. I’m a zombie sponge of magic power, that’s what
Violet stands in a sphere of light. Thick gray smoke pours into the light from below. She wears her purple robe and holds a wand—a stout old woman with wild hair, her arms raised in the broad sleeves. She is chanting.
In the smoke, a black figure appears—Raspis. He grows and grows until he stands twice Violet’s height. She lowers her wand and speaks words of power. Blue light rises, like shimmering water. For a moment Raspis vibrates, engulfed in the light.
Then from his chest comes a silent explosion of blackness. It knocks Violet back and she falls, hitting her head. She doesn’t move.
I sit up in bed, gasping.
Violet is dead.
Was it only a dream? Was it?
I scarcely sleep the rest of the night. In the morning, I still don’t know if what I saw was real or just a nightmare. I go downstairs and call Violet’s house.
No answer. I leave a message begging her to call me back. A little later I try Kevin’s cell, but again there’s no answer.
After fixing Granma breakfast, I tell her about it. She looks stricken with fear, but she doesn’t know what to suggest. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her. I don’t really know if anything’s happened to Violet, and Granma’s got enough troubles.
We just sit there in the living room, not eating, not talking.
After nine, I try Violet’s and Kevin’s numbers again. Still no answer. Granma suggests I call Jenny Nesheim at the craft shop. I get Jenny on the phone. She hasn’t seen Kevin and is wondering if she should open the antique shop and the bookstore or just leave them locked. I tell her to leave them locked for now, and ask her to call me if Kevin shows up.
I ask Granma if maybe I should drive over to Violet’s house to check on her. Granma seems anxious about letting me go, but then decides that I should.
I leave her with her foot propped up and make sure that the phone and some books and a pot of tea are within reach. I take her car keys and go out to the Honda Odyssey. It’s much bigger than the car I used for driver’s ed, but compared with everything else, my fear of driving it is miniscule. I back slowly out of the driveway and head down Bliss Road toward town.
When I get to Violet’s house there is no one home, and Kevin’s car is gone. More than that, I sense a dark, creepy energy—like I might expect to feel at the scene of a murder. I’m shuddering as I get back behind the wheel.
I drive down to Main Street. Luckily there’s almost no traffic, because I have to pull in and out of the parking space twice before I get inside the white lines. I open the antique shop, then go next door and talk to Jenny. She still hasn’t heard from Kevin. I try his cell again and get nothing.
“Too early to file a missing persons report,” Molly says. “But maybe I can get Janie to make some calls.” Janie is the police dispatcher. Molly is going to ask her to check with the nearby hospitals and law enforcement agencies.
I phone Granma and tell her what I’ve learned. Granma says she’s doing okay and wants me to stay at the shop for a while, in case Kevin shows up. If Kevin calls her at home, she promises to let me know right away.
So I hang out at the shop and try to stay busy. I dust the shelves and wait on a customer who comes in. I call Kevin again, but still no luck.
Around noon, Molly calls me. “Janie just got back to me. Violet Morgan was admitted to Weaver Medical Center and is in critical condition. That’s all they’re allowed to say.”
“Oh god.”
“I’m sorry, Abby. Do you want Ray-Ray to drive you over there?”
“No. There’s nothing I can do. Besides, I’d better stay close to my Granma.”
I hear Molly exhale. “First your grandmother, now Violet. This is getting really scary.”
Tell me about it.
After I hang up, I see I just missed a call from Kevin. I hit redial, and he answers on the second ring.
“Abby?”
“Yes. How’s Violet?”
“She hit her head. We’re at the hospital. She’s in a coma. They don’t know yet what’s going to happen.”
“I’m so sorry, Kevin.”
“She was doing magic. She had the door sealed. It went on and on for hours, but I was afraid to interrupt her. If only I’d gone in sooner…” He chokes up and is quiet for a few seconds. When his voice comes back, it’s hoarse and weak. “I tried to warn her…but she wouldn’t stop. She was on a mission.”
“I know.”
“Take care of your grandmother, Abby. Are you at the shop?”
“Yes.”
“Just keep the bookstore closed. I’ll…reopen in a day or two, unless…You should probably go home and stay with Kathryn.”
“I will. Call us at the house when there’s news. Or if I can do anything.”
