Bewitching Belle

by Debra Kristi

  “My mom is all nerves and anxiety, dealing with whatever is going on with my dad,” she says. “My family life has been a bit of a crazy ride. I only just moved here about two months ago and it was a bit of a culture shock. Everything about life here is way different than Monticello where I grew up.”

  “What made your family decide to move to New Orleans?” I ask.

  “Well.” She spins a fry in the ketchup. “About three years ago, my parents broke up and my dad moved out this way. Then, three months ago, they got back together. Go figure. My mom moved us out here so that we could be a family again. Only, she moved me two-and-a-half hours away from my friends and the only life I’ve ever known”

  “That must have been hard,” I sympathize and take a sip of my drink.

  “Yes and no,” she replies. “Everything was fairly great at first, and then in a snap, it all spiraled into the trash bin. I don’t know what’s up with my dad, but I’m trapped in a hell of his creation. Mom says we can’t afford to move and so I’m forced to deal. And because of the move, I don’t even have my friends to lean on or confide in. I’ve been feeling very much alone.” She squeezes her hands tight.

  “You don’t need to be alone any longer.” I beam bright for her, hoping to wash away any remnants of gloom clinging to her as a result of her story. “Maybe you’d like to come to one of our coven meetings some time?”

  “Oh.” She perks straight. “I’d love that. James already gave me the info.”

  “Really?” He didn’t talk to Luna the way I had… have. When we met in the spice shop, he didn’t know anything about her. What if she’d turned out to be a psycho? “I mean, great.”

  She slides off her stool. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” She walks to the bathroom, and I spin on my stool, eat more fries.

  “How are you girls doing?” The waiter steps up to our position at the counter.

  “Good, thanks.” I dip another fry.

  “Do you think you’ll want anything else?” he asks.

  I glance toward the bathroom. Just beyond the door to the restroom, Luna stands with a man. He’s leaning over her, delivering unheard-by-me words. Her gaze is glued to the floor at her feet. For the briefest of moments, her stare shoots to me, then away. She shakes her head, pushes past him, and returns to me at our spot at the counter.

  “Who was that,” I ask.

  “No one.” She doesn’t take a seat, but shuffles through her purse. “Some associate of my dad’s.”

  Thoughts of Caleb flash through my mind. I’d thought he was an upstanding guy, but it turned out he secretly was anything but. I wonder if what is going on with Luna’s dad has its roots in something dark and magickal.

  Luna pulls her hand free of her bag and places cash on the counter. “I’m sorry about this, but I’ve got to go. It was nice seeing you again.” She bolts out the door before I can rebut.

  I stare after her retreating image. Blink. Glance toward the bathroom. The guy she’d been speaking to is gone and, with a quick sweep of the diner for confirmation, is nowhere in sight.

  The people beside me get up to leave and another patron walks by, sliding past me and my departing neighbors.

  “You shouldn’t be here, little witch,” whispers at my ear. I startle, look around me, but note no obvious source for the message.

  I spin toward the counter and the waiter, raise my hand. “Check.”

  Chapter Five

  My meet up with Luna didn’t end as I had expected. I don’t know what to take away from her abrupt departure. When I get home, I try calling her but get a busy signal. I call later to the same results, and again on Sunday. Either someone’s been constantly on the phone, or they left it off the hook, avoiding calls… possibly me.

  I try not to dwell on the situation. After all, I just met her. It’s not like we have a long and deep relationship. Although, she is nice. And cool. And rather pretty.

  Fireflies dance in my chest.

  The next morning, Mom takes advantage of having the day off work, and, braving the rain, takes me dress shopping. She manages to hold herself together fairly well. Slightly better than usual, anyway. I try on close to twenty dresses before I find the ideal one for Miri’s wedding. Short, black, and perfectly sleek. I’m certain she’ll approve.

  Monday, it’s back to the school grind. Lessons and teachers and boredom. After the bell rings, I meet up with Jeanna and James, and we all head to his house for our coven meeting. With his brother no longer at home and his mother working long hours, we usually have the place all to ourselves.

  With the quarter moon taking place midweek, we’ll be using our time to prepare our thoughts and spells. I have several spells in the preparation stages. For my mother, I have to wait until the waxing moon in two weeks’ time. But I’m also planning on pulling together birthing beads for Miri, and today, both James and Jeanna can add their blessings to the string.

  Even if Miri hasn’t yet admitted to being pregnant, I’m pretty positive she is with child. I’m rather excited to welcome a new tiny witch into the family.

  At James’s, we all file through the door and toss our backpacks on the kitchen table.

  “Anyone want a snack before we begin?” James asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Totally.” Both Jeanna and I speak over one another.

  “Alrighty then. Let’s see what we got.” James opens the refrigerator, and Jenna and I start rummaging through the cupboards. Within fifteen minutes or less, we are armed with a jumbo bag of chips and avocado dip. In addition, we each have a sparkling cherry water.

  James and Jeanna add their chosen beads to my gift for Miri, and then we all sit in silence, scribbling spells and intentions for the upcoming moon phase. A pile of resource books sits on the table’s center, and I have had to pull from the stack twice so far. Occasionally, one of us pops our head up and fires a question at the group, and that leads to an energetic exchange of chat, mixed with considerations and answers. We discuss the moon phases, and which spells are best for which stages. We also discuss spell intentions and elements. Timing within the day.

  An hour and a half into our time, a knock sounds at the door. We all jolt, spin in our seats toward the sound.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Jeanna asks.

  “Maybe.” James jumps from his seat and jogs to the front entrance. He opens the door and standing on the porch is Luna. “Cool,” he says. “I’m so glad you decided to join us today.”

  “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I would make it or not.” She drops her head and hugs her bag to her chest.

  “Come in. Come in.” James steps to the side, allowing Luna entrance.

  I stand from the table and move toward the threshold to the front room. Stare at Luna. My thoughts on her are muddled. First, she acts like she wants to be friends, and then she’s running away.

  Jeanna moves past me to get a better look at our newcomer. “Hi,” she says. “My name is Jeanna. And you are?”

  Luna blinks, glances toward me. Swallows hard.

  “This here is Luna,” James says. “Belle and I met her the other day, and I invited her to join our coven.” He shifts toward Luna. “I mean, she’s not from Algiers, but that shouldn’t matter. She’s cool and needs awesome peeps like us.”

  “Of course she does.” Jeanna extends her hand in greeting. “Glad you could come.”

  Jeanna and Luna shake, and, with the exchange, Luna is welcomed into our small coven of fledgling witches. Jeanna jumps straight into grilling our new guest. She asks Luna where she’s from, about her casting experience, and any family history of witchcraft.

  “Monticello. Not much. Some on my father’s side, I think,” Luna says, answering the questions in the order given.

  “We hadn’t planned on any spell work for today,” Jeanna says, leading Luna deeper into the house. “But if there is something you’d like to focus on, we might be able to adapt and add power to your casting.” She pulls a chair away from the
table and offers the seat to Luna.

  “Nothing today, I think.” Luna takes a seat, and we all follow suit, coming together like the knights of the round table. “I’m still learning what spells are best to cast when.”

  I scoot my chair in and place my hands on the table. Study the dynamics between Luna and the rest of my gang. She feels like a natural fit.

  “It can seem confusing at first,” James says. “But once you understand the logic behind the marriage of spells and moon phases, it will become like second nature to you.”

  “Right.” Jeanna cuts a sharp hand through the air in James’s direction. “Like, we just had the new moon. New… we concentrated on starting anew. Setting our intentions for the month ahead. Now we are in the phase of the waxing crescent. A time for building. Think long-term goals or material gain.”

  Luna shakes her head. “None of that is really my focus right now.” Her gaze flickers to me, and my body pulls back and stiffens ever slightly. “I’m not here so much for the spell work, at least not right now, but really for the connection with others involved in the craft as I am.”

  My cheeks warm, and I can’t help but smile at the long, dark-haired girl sitting across the table from me. Jeanna, James, and I may be fledgling, but I got the impression Luna was a step or two below fledgling.

  “You’ve come to the right place, then.” Jeanna drops her hand over Luna’s and pats. “I think you’re going to fit in nicely.”

  James offers Luna a drink and then dives into a detailed explanation of the moon phases and how they related to different types of spell work. Luna pulls a bookbag and pencil from her bag and makes notes.

  When James takes a short break to rummage through the pantry and Jeanna excuses herself to go to the bathroom, Luna grabs our jackets and drags me outside.

  “Hey!” James yells after us. “Where are you going?”

  “We’ll be right back,” Luna says.

  “What’s up?” I step onto the front porch, and Luna closes the door, separating us from my friends and coven.

  “I want to apologize for leaving so suddenly the other day. It was rude of me, and I owe you not only an apology but an explanation.” She bows her head.

  “You don’t owe me anything.” I shove my hands in my pockets and press hard against the lining.

  “I disagree, so I’m going to give you one anyway.” She rubs her arms, be it against the chill of the air or the chill of the current state, I couldn’t say. “When that guy ambushed me outside of the girls’ restroom at the café, I got a bit freaked out.” I nod, recalling the man I saw her talking to right before she split. “He’s some sort of work associate of my dad’s, and he can be a creepy dude. I don’t like him and sense he is capable of nasty things.” She shifts her weight. “Anyway, I didn’t want anything to come back on you, either from that guy or my dad… and I was a bit scared for myself, so I left.”

  “Are you in danger?” I lean into my question.

  “No. I don’t think so.” She heaves and her shoulders drop. “But I honestly don’t know what is going on in my family situation. My dad drinks too much and hangs around sketchy people. I don’t know what’s going on or how dark it is or isn’t.”

  I reach out and rub her arm. “We’ll help you figure it out. James’s brother works in the Quarter and knows people. Maybe he’ll be able to help us figure out what’s going on.”

  “Really?” Her head lifts, her gaze meeting mine. She blinks.

  “Really,” I comfort.

  The front door flies open, and Jeanna pops her head out. “What’s going on out here?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.” James peeks over Jeanna’s shoulder.

  I turn toward my friends and push them back into the house, motion Luna to follow. “In addition to trying to solve my mom’s problem,” I say and shed my coat, toss it to the sofa. “We need to help Luna figure out what’s going on with her dad.”

  “A new mission,” James pipes.

  “Cool,” Jeanna adds. “Is it medical?”

  Luna shakes her head. “No. Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s medical.”

  James fills a bowl with chips and places it in the center of the table. Once more, we gather to troubleshoot, using junk food to fuel our minds and discussion.

  Luna tells James and Jeanna what she had told me previously, about her parents’ reconciliation, and her move to the area. Her dad’s recent decline into alcoholism, her mother’s distress, and the recent unpleasant visitors her father has been receiving.

  James agrees to talk to his brother, again, to see if he knows anything about Luna’s father, Adolfo Flores. And since Luna’s mom, Camila, works in the assisted living medical field, Jeanna agrees to try and get her mom, who is a nurse at the medical center, to reach out to Camila Flores.

  It’s a place to start. A place from which hope can shine, no matter how slight the glimmer.

  After our coven gathering wraps for the day, Luna walks with me back to my house. The light of day has started to fade, and I’d rather her not take the ferry or travel through the Quarter alone. Mom has yet to get home from work, so we have the place to ourselves and I am saved the embarrassment of explaining any of my mom’s odd moods. After giving Luna the tour of my tight and crowded garden, I heat us a couple of hot chocolates, and I call my brother, beg him to pick Luna up and drive her home. After much ho-humming, and bribery on my part, he agrees.

  I slip on my many-pocketed apron, stocked with my favorite herbs and spices, and make her dinner while we wait. To my delight, she doesn’t sit back, idly, and watch me cook. She jumps up and gets involved pulling the meal together.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen an apron with so many pockets,” she says.

  “I added the pockets using a whole lot of fabric glue.” I pull a dash of rosemary from one of the pockets and toss it into the sizzling pan.

  “Glue? You didn’t sew them on?” She gives my apron a closer appraisal.

  “Sewing isn’t so much my thing.” I shimmy the pan, savor the hiss.

  “Why did you want so many pockets?” she asks.

  “I like having everything close at hand. It makes me feel empowered.” I smile, realizing how silly that must sound to her.

  “Spices and herbs make you feel empowered?” Her head torques a tad to the side.

  “Not so much the ingredients themselves, but what I am able to do with them,” I say. “I channel my magick through the use of them.”

  “Interesting.” Her face scrunches with thought.

  “The food is just about done,” I say, in a clear change of subject. “Are there any spices I missed that you’d like to add?”

  “Did you use any cayenne pepper?” she asks.

  “I did not. Why don’t you grab some off the wall there?” I point to the many herbs and spices crowding my shelves.

  She moves to shake the pepper directly from the jar into the pan. I grab her hand, stopping her. Her gaze snaps to me and she stares.

  “Not like that,” I say and take the pepper from her care, unscrew the lid. “Let me show you.” I take her hand in mine, cupping it ever slightly, and pour the cayenne pepper into her palm. “Pinch and toss it into the pan, a dash at a time. Easier to control the amount this way.”

  Luna looks from our hands to me. “Okay.” Her voice is soft like a whisper. “Like this?” She pinches some of the pepper between her fingers and tosses it into the pan.

  “Perfect.” I mix the ingredients with the spatula. “And now it’s finished.” I scoop our completed meal onto two plates and carry them to the table, motion for Luna to take a seat, and then I grab us a couple of cold drinks from the fridge.

  Luna takes a bite, and her eyes widen. “This is seriously good. Where did you learn to cook like this? You didn’t even refer to any cookbook.”

  “Self-taught. Guess it just comes naturally to me.” I slip into my seat at the table and pop open my drink.

  “Well, thanks for sharing your tal
ent with me because, yum.” Luna takes a couple more bites. I dig into my meal, anxious to put something in my belly. “You know,” she says with her mouth partially full. “I could make you a proper pocketed apron. Sewn, not glued.

  “Really? You would do that for me?” My back straightens.

  “Definitely. You’ve already done so much for me and sewing is one thing at which I’m a little better than okay.” She shovels a big forkful of food into her mouth and nods.

  “I would seriously love that. Thank you.” I run my tongue across my teeth to make sure no food is clinging in places where I don’t want it. “Where did you learn to sew?”

  “My mom. Sewing has always sort of been her thing. She used to make my clothes when I was little.” Her lips puff into a half-hearted grin.

  I slap my open palm to my forehead. “Oh, the horror. Mom-made clothes,” I say with a touch of theatrics.

  “I know, right?” Her frown morphs into an expression of glee.

  We finish our meal and work together at cleaning. Eliminating any mess from the preparation and devouring process. I wash the dishes, and she dries them. When I pass her the last fork, our fingers touch. My heart reacts like an athlete at the firing of a starting pistol. I look away and blink hard, shake my head.

  A knock signals Michael’s arrival. I open the door, invite him inside.

  “So, this is the girl?” He says, moving past me to inspect Luna.

  “The one in need of a ride home?” I say. “Yes.”

  “Thank you so much for doing this.” Luna sticks her hand out. Unlike most people meeting my brother for the first time, Luna hardly reacts to his facial disfigurement. “I’m Luna. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Michael takes her hand and shakes, smiles wide. “Pleasure’s mine, for sure.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “But I wasn’t so much indicating the girl in need of a ride home as I was the girl you ran off to meet the other day.” He makes reference of dropping me off in front of the diner the other day after the cake tasting.