by Tess Lake
“I know, I saw it too. Your grandmother showed me, and then later, Cass,” Hattie said.
What? Aunt Cass had shown Hattie? Given that they clearly disliked each other, including crossing to the other side of the street if they ever happened to be on it at the same time, it seemed hard to believe that Aunt Cass had bothered to show Hattie anything, unless she was doing it to be spiteful, which was entirely possible.
“Why would Aunt Cass show you the past?” I asked. Hattie looked me up and down, appearing to search for something in my soul. I saw her eyes widen a little, but then she clamped it down and it was gone.
“She was being mean,” Hattie said.
“You’re lying,” I said. Hattie looked at me again and then the strangest thing happened. For a moment, a peculiar image flashed into my mind of two girls, young teenagers, clutching each other, their faces terrified as they watched something that they couldn’t understand. One of them was blonde with lips as red as rubies and blue eyes. For some reason, I knew it was Hattie Stern, a young Hattie Stern. I don’t know who the other girl was. It flashed through my mind and then was gone, leaving me feeling confused and off-balance. I felt like I was standing on a boat that had started to rock. Something strange had happened and I didn’t know what it was.
“Tell me the truth,” I managed to get out. But Hattie Stern ignored me, turned around and walked away.
I went back into the library, blinking away the confusion I had felt settle over me like an old blanket. Had she cast a spell on me? Why had I seen an image of two teenage girls in my mind? What did it mean?
On the way back into the library I realized I hadn’t even told her that I knew that the journal was a fake, or at least had had a spell cast on it, so whatever Ollie was reading was definitely fake. I went back down to the floor below and found Ollie sitting on a stack of papers, engrossed in the journal. Somewhere between when I walked through the front door of the library and when I saw Ollie, a feeling rose up within me. I was getting sick of all the secrets. Mom might have been terrified, or appeared to be, but I also knew that she had lied to me. Arnie wasn’t just her teenage boyfriend, and she knew more than she was saying. Not only that, I had to add Hattie to the list. She knew more than she was saying as well. Luckily I had the best and sharpest weapon that existed for digging into the past, and his name was Oliver Spencer.
“Ollie, I need you to start looking into some names for me,” I began.
Chapter 11
“What are you wearing?” Molly demanded the moment Luce walked out of her bedroom.
“Have you seen what teenagers wear these days?” Luce said, adjusting the tiny bit of fabric that I guess, technically, was her top.
“More like not wearing,” Molly stopped and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh goddess, I’ve become my mother, I’m sorry,” she said.
“You need to get changed because you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb,” Luce said, looking Molly up and down.
Molly scurried off to her bedroom to find something more suitable for sneaking out to Truer Island and infiltrating an illegal teenage party. Luce turned to me and assessed my outfit. I was wearing my calf-high boots, a skirt and a black top. Given the weather, I also had a shawl that I planned to wrap around my shoulders.
“Not bad, but a shawl? Really?” Luce said.
“I don’t want to be cold!”
“Was that something you really worried about back when we were teenagers sneaking out?”
It hadn’t been, but then at the same time a lot of my memories of teenage years did involve me being freezing cold. When you’re young, you hardly wear any clothes because that’s what everyone is doing.
“Wow, I think we really must be getting older,” I said, realizing that I would definitely choose warmth over a party out on Truer Island any day of the week. Molly emerged from the bedroom wearing even less than Luce was.
“Oh no, that’s too far. Reel it back in, woman,” Luce said and pointed Molly back to her bedroom.
“But I thought we were talking to stupid boys,” Molly said.
“You listen to me, young lady. Now you go and put on something appropriately revealing so we can go to this party,” Luce said, imitating her mother.
Molly went back into her bedroom, muttering to herself.
“So will Kira be there?” I asked.
Luce shrugged, a movement which caused the tiny locket that was dangling down around her neck to slip into her cleavage. I knew that if she talked to any teenage boys out on Truer Island, they would be hypnotized by this. “I dunno. She told me where it was, so maybe she’s going.”
The plan was simple: catch the ferry out Truer Island, go to the party, talk to teenagers and see if we could uncover anyone who was splashing around more cash than they should really have. Our working hypothesis was this: teenagers liked to talk and they can’t keep a secret to save their lives. We’d told each of our respective boyfriends a small lie—that we were having a cousins’ night. It turned out we needn’t have bothered. Will and Ollie had already made plans to go and play poker together somewhere out on the edge of Harlot Bay, and Jack had quickly said it was okay because he was planning on working on his house. Rather than missing us desperately, our three boyfriends hardly seemed to notice that we were gone. This was something that had caused about five minutes of conversation as three very miffed witches felt that, although it was ridiculous on some level, they should be pleading with us to spend time with them.
Molly eventually emerged from her bedroom wearing something “appropriately revealing.” We went outside and got in her car and drove down to the ferry. At this time of the evening, it only ran every hour, and at two in the morning would stop running entirely. There were only a few cars going across, mostly tourists who would come into Harlot Bay for dinner and now were going back to their accommodations on Truer Island. We drove onto the ferry and then sat in the car, where it was warm, while we slowly made our way across to Truer Island. We were almost across when Luce pulled a tiny bottle out from somewhere and showed it to us.
“There’s still a few drops of truth serum left,” she said.
“Are you crazy? After what happened last time?” Molly asked.
“It’s a small bottle. It’s easy to drop,” Luce said, referring to her accidentally dropping it into a full bowl of punch at a party Molly and Luce were holding so they could track down who might have stolen their coffee machine. In that perfect moment, what Luce said came true and she dropped the bottle. It bounced off something and then rolled under one of the car seats. When she looked for it, she couldn’t find it.
“Well, that’s gone. So much for getting the truth,” Luce said after contorting herself trying to find where the bottle went.
“Good, we don’t need that kind of madness,” Molly said.
“Not when we have the power of cleavage,” I said and then we all laughed. We drove off the other side and parked. Molly quickly consulted the small hand-drawn map that Kira had given Luce. Because most teenagers didn’t have cars, the parties often weren’t that far from the dock, but they still had to be far enough that no one could find them easily. While we were looking at the map, I saw a truck full of young men pick up some very young-looking girls who had gotten off the ferry and go off driving up the road. It would be easier to follow them than decipher the map.
“There, quick, follow them,” I said, pointing the way. We followed them down the road and around a bend to a small impromptu parking lot out in the forest. There were a few other trucks and cars parked around the place, and in the distance we could hear music thumping and could see some headlights.
We waited a moment for the men and girls to get out of the truck and walk off into the forest before we all got out of the car. Immediately we all started shivering—the cold was biting.
“Oh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to put a sweater on,” Molly complained.
“No, you are not, Molly Torrent. Keep your eye on the prize, which is findi
ng out who stole Stefano and who stole Oscar,” Luce said.
“Oscar? Who is Oscar?” I asked.
“My catapult, of course.”
“You never name them because then you can’t take them back to the store,” I said, teasing her.
Luce poked her tongue out at me and adjusted her top again, which was slipping a little.
To blend in with the teenage party, we’d brought along beer with us—not good beer, but cheap beer.
“Shall we have a drink first?” Molly asked, clearly nervous.
“Here’s to stupid teenage parties,” Luce said. We all opened a beer and took a gulp and then all three of us almost spat it out again.
“Oh goddess, it’s so bad,” Luce muttered.
“It tastes like a dog has been swimming in it,” I complained.
“Did we used to drink this? Really?” Molly said. We finished our beers, grimacing all the way. I guessed it was yet again another one of those things that had changed since we had gotten older. When we were teenagers, drinking a sneaky beer in the car was about the most exciting thing in the world, and somehow we hadn’t minded the taste, probably because we were so excited to be doing something we knew we shouldn’t be. Now that we were adult women, it was disgusting and not exciting at all.
“What’s up, chumps?” a voice said from behind us.
We all whirled around in shock and instinctively hid our beers behind our back.
Standing there behind Molly’s car was Aunt Cass. In her arms, she held Adams, who was watching me with a calculated expression.
“What are you doing here?” Luce blurted out.
“I’m investigating the thefts around Harlot Bay with my friend here,” Aunt Cass said.
“Partner,” Adams said.
“Partner,” Aunt Cass said. “What are you doing here?” she said, looking over the three of us.
Luce and I had obviously been temporarily stunned into shock at finding our very elderly aunt and my cat out on Truer Island. Molly came to the rescue.
“We think some of these teenagers are the ones who have been stealing things, and we want to get our coffee machine back,” she said. “That’s why we’re dressed like this, so we can infiltrate them. The question is, how exactly are you going to get into that party looking like that?” Molly said somewhat sarcastically.
“Oh really?” Aunt Cass said. She put Adams down on the ground and then clicked her fingers. We all felt the pull of a powerful spell, and then standing in front of us was a gorgeous teenager who was wearing even less than Luce was. Adams now appeared to be a golden retriever puppy.
“Let’s go, Adams. We’ve got investigating to do,” she said to him.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Adams said, directing a withering look in my direction. Aunt Cass and Adams walked off around us, quickly vanishing into the forest. I noticed that although Adams appeared to be a dog, he was still slinking as though he was a cat.
The moment they were gone, the three of us woke up from our confusion.
“What is going on? Did you know she could do that?” Molly asked, looking at Luce and me.
“I mean, you can cast a glamour, but that was incredible. It looked so real,” I said, shaking my head. It was then we heard the croaking of the frogs that came hopping out of the forest, following the path Aunt Cass and Adams had taken. There were more of them this time, at least ten, big and green and obsessed with getting as close to Aunt Cass as possible.
“Well, at least she still has that slip witch problem to deal with,” Molly said bitterly.
We regrouped and considered drinking another beer for courage but then couldn’t stomach the idea, and finally decided to march off over to the party to get as much information as we could.
We left the car behind and walked out into the forest. As we got closer to the party, we saw it was much larger than some of the ones that we had been to when we were teenagers. Half the time, our “parties” were essentially a bunch of teenagers sitting around drinking whatever stolen or procured alcohol they could find. This often meant sitting around on a log in the cold forest, drinking.
This party obviously was a bit different. There were three trucks parked in the forest with their headlights on and their engines quietly running. In the middle, someone had lit a bonfire, and gathered around it were teenage boys and girls drinking and talking to each other. The glare from the bonfire was so bright that if you looked at it you couldn’t see anything else. When you looked away into the forest, it took a moment for your eyes to adjust, and occasionally you saw couples out in the darkness, sneaking away or sneaking back from whatever it was they were doing out there. We stopped on the edge of the light and looked around, taking it in.
“Okay, I have to say it, and I know I sound like my mother,” I began.
“A lot of these girls need to put on some more clothes right now,” Luce said, finishing my thought.
“They’re going to catch their death of cold!” Molly added.
We glanced at each other guilty, almost feeling our mothers speaking through our mouths.
“Okay, let’s split up and see if we can talk to some of the teenage boys. Look for anyone who appears far wealthier than they should be,” I said. We’d only bought a six-pack of beer and already drunk three of them, so we broke the rest up and, with our single beers in hand, went into the party. I headed closer to the fire, feeling the roaring heat. I was very glad there was a fire tonight because, against my better judgment, I’d left the shawl behind. Over near the side of the party, I saw a teenage boy, maybe seventeen, drinking some kind of cheap alcohol out of the bottle. He was skinny and had a scattering of acne across his face.
Oh well, here goes…
I walked over to him.
“Fun party, huh?” I said. He muttered something and then stared at the ground.
“Sorry, what was that?” I asked. He looked up at me and I saw a crafty look come across his face.
“I said it’s me, dorkus, your aunt. That’s the best line you’ve got? ‘Good party’? Oh goddess, you’re out of your depth.” The teenager laughed and walked off into the darkness and I felt a faint tug of magic as Aunt Cass obviously cast a spell again, transforming herself to look different.
“That’s not funny!” I called out to the darkness. I took a moment to look around, seeing if I could spot anyone who was clearly wealthier than all the other teenagers, but it definitely wasn’t obvious. There was a boy standing on the other side of the fire talking to another one, and both of them were virtually wearing rags. I’m not kidding. There were jeans under there somewhere, but their T-shirts looked like they’d been ripped apart and then stapled back together. They were talking and drinking when one of them pulled out a shiny new phone and then I saw that he was wearing a gold bracelet as well. The other one pulled out a phone as well and I saw that he was wearing what I guessed was a very expensive necklace.
I looked around the other side of the fire trying to hold back my judgment, but oh my goddess, there was so much underage drinking. It was super illegal. And there were some very dodgy older guys here too. There were some who I knew would have been at least twenty-two or twenty-three years old, talking to girls who were easily sixteen. I looked over at the truck where the music was playing and saw one of those super dodgy guys walking off into the darkness with a teenage girl, her arm wrapped around his waist.
Not judging, not judging, not judging…
I was gaining a sudden and very unwelcome appreciation for what our mothers must’ve felt. I wanted to run around the party, grab every single girl there, make them put on sweaters and take them home and have very serious conversations about what was appropriate, young lady! I managed to hold myself back, though. It wasn’t my business, and I guessed if I really thought about it a bit longer, it was something that had been going on for generations. When we were young, we were out here too, and we thought the older boys were the most handsome, amazing things in the world. As most teenage gir
ls would, we’d discovered that they weren’t.
I was looking around the party when I felt a presence appear next to me. I turned to find a young blond teenage boy whose eyes kept leaving my face and going somewhere further south.
“Hey, baby, you fine,” he said, his eyes trailing down again.
I rolled my eyes at this so hard I nearly passed out.
“Really? That’s the line you’re going with?” I said. “Why don’t you click your fingers, change what you look like and try again. Okay?”
“What?” he said, and I realized it wasn’t Aunt Cass in the shape of a dumb teenage boy but an actual literal dumb teenage boy.
“Uh, I meant, hey, how’s it going?”
“Come take a walk with me,” the boy said.
“That’s not gonna happen. How old are you, anyway?”
“Old enough,” he said.
I so did not want to be in this conversation, so I summoned up everything I remembered from my teenage years and turned it full blast on him.
“Yeah, it’s time for you to go. Bye-bye, now,” I said at maximum sarcasm. I looked at him as though he was a piece of gunk stuck on my shoe.
“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled and walked off. I saw him walk over to some other girl and obviously say exactly the same thing, except this time, incredibly, I heard her laugh.
“Harlow Torrent, journalist undercover, seeing how the youth of today do it,” I heard a voice behind me say.
It was Kira. She was dressed like every other teenage girl here, as in not nearly wearing enough, and had a drink in her hand as well. I suppressed all of my mom urges and gave her a wave.
“Hey, Kira. Have you found any leads yet?” I asked.
Kira came to stand beside me and looked over at that boy, who was now walking off into the forest with the girl.
“The young male, having separated a young female from the pack, takes her to a secluded location to begin his mating dance,” Kira narrated in her finest nature documentary voice.
