by Debra Kristi
She’s probably right, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying. I reach out and wipe away her tears. Her cheeks blush, and she partially turns away, her hands flying to her face, pressing and rubbing.
“Mom.” Luna straightens, turns toward her mom. Mrs. Flores is sitting on the sofa, tissue in hand, staring at a muted television. The television is set between two windows with views of the street. Which means, the men watching the house can likely see her, but she can’t see them because of the time of day and the reflection on the glass.
My innards squirm.
Luna’s mom twists in her seat to look at us but doesn’t say anything.
“We’re going to go to my room.” Luna tugs me toward the hallway.
“I’d rather you not,” her mom says, bringing us to a halt. Luna turns back, and a tiny crease presses between her brows. “I’d rather we all stay together. There is power in numbers, and I can’t protect you if I’m too far away.”
My mind blinks. Luna’s mom knows much more than she is saying.
“Protect me? Seriously, Mom.” Luna’s back jerks stiff. “We aren’t leaving the house.”
“I know,” Mrs. Flores replies. “But there is a back door near your room.” Inferring someone unwanted could enter through that door.
“Fine.” Luna’s shoulders drop, and she pulls me to the farthest end of the dining table.
I give a gentle tug to her hold and nod toward the windows. She frowns and stares at me, clearly not understanding my silent message.
“People are watching the house,” I whisper.
She shivers. “Understand,” she says. “Let’s close the blinds.” I agree and move to the closest window while Luna moves to the first window in the seating area. “Let’s close up so that all the looky-loos drawn by the paramedics aren’t staring at us through the windows.”
“Good idea,” her mom says.
Luna twists the blinds to a close and moves to the next window. I arc my hands around my eyes and gaze out the window. I can just make out Michael sitting in his car. His attention veers to the blinds Luna is closing, then shifts toward me. I wave, letting him know I’m alright. He raises a hand in response.
I close the blinds by the eating area. When I turn around, Luna is staring at me, her eyes weighted with shadows and crimson. She approaches. Pulls me to her form and hugs me firm. “Thank you for coming. For being here for me.”
“That’s what we do for the people who matter in our lives,” I say.
She steps back and gazes at me, her expression unreadable. She drops into a chair and wipes her eyes.
A knock sounds at the door and she startles. Jumps to a stand.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I ask. She nods that they are.
Her mother slowly rises and walks to the door. “Who is it?” she calls through the barrier. She must approve of the answer because a moment later, she’s unbolting and opening the front entrance.
Two men in black vinyl jackets stand in the doorway.
“Mrs. Flores?” one of the men asks. She nods and her lips pull into a string-tight line. “We’re sorry for your loss. We’re here for Mr. Flores.”
My gaze snaps to Luna. “He’s still here?” As in, a dead body is somewhere in the house. She sniffles twice and nods.
My chest presses, constricting my ability to breathe. I’ve never before seen a dead body. I don’t want that stat to change tonight.
Luna’s mom steps aside and points toward the hallway. “He’s in the first bedroom.”
“Thank you, ma’am. We’ll take good care of him. We promise.” The two men enter the home. The one rolling the stretcher heads straight to the front bedroom.
Luna’s hand flies to her lips, and she spins away, putting her back to the men and the rest of the house. I slip in front of her and wrap my arms around her. Allow her to dip her face into my shoulder.
The second man collects Mrs. Flores’s signature on the paperwork. “As you’ve been informed, everything has already been handled. You may contact the home for any specifics regarding a view and burial.” He hands her a business card, spares me and Luna a quick glance, and then hands Mrs. Flores a second card. “Bokor Chuks sends his regards.”
I gasp, my hand flying to my lips. Does this mean the bokor’s influence and control reaches through the legitimate medical community?
She thanks him and steps back, stands at the far end of the living room, both of her hands press to her face in prayer style. The man joins his partner in the front bedroom.
Creaks, clatters, and kerthumps come from the bedroom. A zip and a grunt, and the men reemerge, maneuvering between them the gurney holding Mr. Flores. They move through the house, out the front door, and straight to the dark grey van awaiting at the curb.
Having turned back to face the room, Luna follows at a sluggish amble. I move at her side. Mrs. Flores slips out onto the front porch, waits and watches the men load the gurney. Maybe it’s a morbid curiosity regarding the process of death, or it’s a nagging need to confirm a loved one is truly gone and won’t sit up and start yelling for help. Whatever the case, the three of us gather on the stoop in silence until the van drives away.
I glance to my brother, still sitting in the car. He glances at me but makes no motion to hurry me along. My gaze wonders to the dark spaces across the street, searching for signs of the lurking men I witnessed earlier. I catch sight of the burning end of a cigarette.
Mrs. Flores drops a hand on both of our shoulders and leads us back into the house.
“What now?” I whisper to Luna. “Do you need to follow them? Go somewhere to set up the next step?”
“That’s all there is,” her mother responds. “There is nothing more to do today. Tomorrow, I will call the mortuary and get the specifics regarding his burial.”
My head jerks back. “You aren’t planning the burial yourself?” I bite my lip. That was a rude question to blurt, especially at a time like this.
“We don’t have the money for the service.” She drops, shakes her head. “Whatever the county, state, or his employment provides is all I have to offer him.” She drops onto the sofa and breaks in heavy sobs.
Luna sits beside her mom and tries to comfort her, but I can only imagine… there is no comfort for one who has lost someone dear to their life, their heart.
I stand to the side and wait, shifting back and forth, crossing and uncrossing my arms. The bokor made good on his threat. He killed Luna’s dad. What could we have done differently? How could we have saved him? Nothing comes to mind
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Mrs. Flores squeezes Luna’s hand. “Go attend to your friend.”
“Are you sure?” Luna asks. “I am here for you if you need me.”
“I will be alright. I am not your burden to bear.”
Mrs. Flores motions for Luna to join me and she does.
“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Anything, if it will help you right now,” I say.
“There is a massive void inside of me.” She stares across the room. “I feel it growing, swallowing my ability to find happiness. I am turning into a puddle of muddy rainwater on the gloomiest of days.” Her head jerks up, and her entire body turns to face me. “I appreciate you coming so much. So so much. But this is no place for you. I’ll only bring you down.”
“If down is where I’ll find you, then I’m alright with that.” I take her hands in mine.
“What about your brother?” she says. “Is he the one I saw sitting in the car?”
“Yeah. He gave me a ride.” I tilt my head in his direction, indicating his location through all the barriers between us.
“He must be getting pretty bored waiting out there,” she says.
“He’s fine,” I reply “He wants to keep an eye on things from the exterior of the house.”
She throws her arms around me, catching me off guard. I jolt, then return the hug. “The hard part is done,” she murmurs. “All that is left for me to do tonight is ball my eyes out. You
don’t need to be here for that. In fact, I’d rather you not be.”
I guess I can understand that. I’m never keen on people watching me cry. Still, I want to be here for her. “I want to be here to protect you, keep you safe.”
“There is nothing more to do,” she counters. “The bokor did as he said he would. He is no longer a threat to me.”
“Is that what you think? Because I’m not so sure,” I state. Glance from her, to the window, then back. “My brother was going to help with tonight’s protection spell. Since he’s sitting outside, why don’t we bring him in and cast the spell here? Do a little something extra to keep you safe.”
Luna’s gaze blinks to her mom and back. “I know he’s your brother and all, but I don’t think my mom will be okay letting a strange man into her house without having good cause.”
“Then we tell her…” I say.
“Spell casting is not a good cause,” Luna interjects.
We drop into silence. Stare at one another, mentally wrestle with the presented puzzle.
Three minutes later, we are tiptoeing down the hallway to the back door and I slip outside, circle around the house, and flag Michael in the car. When I return to Luna, waiting at the back entrance, my brother is in tow. He’s carrying a bag of goodies collected from the trunk of his car. The three of us slip into Luna’s bedroom. Sit in a circle.
Chapter Twelve
The room swirls with the aroma of cider, cinnamon, and dragon’s blood. Michael chose to combine three of his favorite protection empowering ingredients for the spell, given the challenge we are set against. The powerful bokor.
Gathered between us, on the floor in Luna’s room, are various items representing the four elements. The incense for air, sprinklings of salt and sand for earth, a burning white candle for fire, and a bowl of water. All these atop a cloth altar.
Michael and I lend our energy to Luna, and she charges her chosen object with the power of the elements. Chanting over each natural force, one at a time, allowing her protection amulet time to load to full strength.
Only Luna can experience the total expanding flow of the amulet’s potency, but through our connection, I catch a glimmer of its might. My heart settles with the knowledge she’ll now have this added piece of protection watching over her.
When the spell is complete, Luna sets the amulet on the carpet in front of her.
“Put it on,” Michael says. She follows his request, slipping the long necklace into place. “Never let anyone touch it. Not even Belle.” He glances between us. “Mixing another energy with your object of protection will weaken, even destroy, the spell we have cast here tonight.”
“No one touches it. Ever.” She slips the amulet inside her shirt so that it is out of sight.
“Okay. Good.” Michael inhales deep and releases his breath in one long, slow motion. “Other things you must abide by, never wear it at night or you will drain the power while you sleep. Hide it away when you are not wearing it so that no one else touches it, be it accidental or not.”
“No one touches it. Don’t wear it at night. Hide it when not wearing it.” Luna repeats the three don’ts delivered by my brother.
“Exactly.” He smiles and nods. “Make sure you are wearing that thing every time you leave the house.” He points the visible chain around her neck. “You’ll need to recharge the power in about two months. Sooner if you find it being activated more often than not.”
Luna and I exchange a look. Given the current circumstances, what are the chances her amulet will need to be recharged next week? I grimace.
“Luna. What’s the smell? Are you burning something back there?” Mrs. Flores’ voice carries down the hall and through the closed bedroom door.
Luna startles and Michael jumps to a stand.
“Thank you, but you need to go,” she whispers to my brother. “Can you make this disappear,” she says to me, circling her hand in the air over the casting elements. “I’m going to see Michael out.”
“Got it,” I say and blow out the candle. I dip the incense and the candle in the bowl to make sure any burning flame is completely out and then set the bowl aside to be dumped in the bathroom. I bundle the salt and sand within the cloth, wrapping it tight.
Luna slips back into the room. “My mom is coming.” She kneels beside me, takes the wrapped cloth and shoves it under the bed. Grabs the candle and incense.
“What did I say about you being in your bedroom?” Mrs. Flores’ voice is closer than before. Clearly close to the room now.
Luna lifts her open palm through the air. Catching the message, I leap up from the floor and drop onto the edge of the bed. She snags the bowl of water and stashes it on the back corner of her dresser, balancing the candle and incense across the top. Flattening her hair, and pressing a calming hand to her chest, she leans into the piece of furniture. Her body, likely blocking anyone’s view from the hallway.
The bedroom door pushes open. Mrs. Flores waves her hand before her face and wrinkles her nose. “You were burning something. You know the rules. No flames. Flames lead to fires and fires lead to death and destruction.”
Luna steps away from the dresser, her shoulders dropping. “I know, Momma. But Papa just died, and I really wanted to honor all that he was, so I burned a candle and said a prayer, just for him.”
“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Flores enters the room and wraps her arms around Luna. Kisses the side of her head.
I wring my fingers and avert my eyes. My skin is starting to itch. Sitting out in the car with my brother is starting to sound more inviting.
“I’ll let it slide this one time but not again,” Mrs. Flores says, her words somewhat mumbled by the closeness of their embrace. “I won’t take any chances on something going wrong. I can’t lose you too.”
“I understand,” Luna says, pulling back from their embrace.
“Burning a candle does not explain everything I am smelling here, though.” Mrs. Flores waves a weak hand in front of her and turns in a circle.
“I added a little bit of incense to remind me of papa’s cigars,” Luna quips.
“Well. At least the incense smells better than those things. Such a nasty habit.” She spins back to face Luna. “But just like I don’t allow you to burn things in the house, neither was your father allowed to smoke those nasty cigars in the house.” She glues a stern stare on Luna. “Never again, you understand me?” She wags a finger in Luna’s face. “If you feel the urge to show the dead such respect in the future, wait until daylight and take it outside.”
“Yes, Mom.” Luna drops her gaze to the carpet.
“Now why don’t you girls return to the front of the house, watch some television or something.” Mrs. Flores pushes the door all the way open and steps out into the hallway.
“Actually.” Luna grabs my wrist and tugs me off the bed. “Belle was getting ready to leave.”
I startle. Snap my gaze to her. “I was?”
“Yes, silly. Remember?” she says. “I appreciate you coming when I called, but I now need some alone time. Plus, you have school in the morning.”
I frown. School. Who can think about going to school after the events of this night? How am I expected to sit through a day of boring classes when I know Luna is hurting? Could even be in danger?
Luna pushes me down the hallway, toward the front door. Stops.
“Oh!” She exclaims. “I almost forgot.” She runs back to her room, returns a moment later, and hands me a large wrap of fabric.
“What’s this?” I straighten the piece, holding it out between my hands. Stretched out before me is a wicked black apron adorned with pockets aplenty. “Flying broomsticks! You didn’t?” I crush the fabric in my hold and spin toward Luna.
“I did.” She smiles. It’s a touch of joy on her otherwise stricken features.
“Thank you.” I crush myself to her. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“You’ve done far more for me,” she says. “Besides, you deserve it.” She sees me
to the door.
We say our goodbyes, and I dash down the steps toward the car. Michael pulls forward so that I don’t need to walk as far. He takes me home. Waits until I’m safely inside before driving away.
Pressing my back against the door, I gaze into the darkened house and recall all the events of the day, in reverse order. Luna’s protection is in place. Her father is dead, likely by the bokor, and her mother probably knows something, because she was acting overly protective, even for the circumstance. Michael, James, and Jeanna helped with the earlier casting for Mom.
Mom.
With all that took place afterwards, Michael must have temporarily forgotten. Otherwise, I would have thought he would want to check on Mom himself.
I push away from the door and wander through the house. Find Mom in bed, sound asleep. Guess we won’t know if the spell worked until later, when she’s up and mobile.
The day has been long, and the amount of energy I have utilized has left me beyond spent. I wash my face and call it a day. Come morning, I call Luna first thing.
“The timing is bad,” she says. “I’ll call you later. After you get out of school.”
I’m left with the odd sense of being incomplete. Like something important that makes me me is missing. I try checking on my mom, but she’s still asleep and won’t wake up.
My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. Should I go to school? Should I stay home? I don’t know what to do. Mom has always been a comatose sleeper. I don’t know if this morning’s sleep is her norm or something brought on by the spell we cast the night before. I stand at the end of her bed and stare. Start to pace. I pace and bite my nails and pace some more.
If attending school is the decision, I need to leave soon, or I’ll be late.
I call Michael using the phone in Mom’s room. Someone at the school answers. They go to get him, or so they tell me, but no one ever returns to the phone. I suspect my call has been forgotten before the message was ever delivered to my brother.
“Stupid school,” I mumble and hang up the phone. I consider calling Miri or Grandma, but I don’t want to be lectured to. Especially right now.
