Enchanted, A Paranormal Romance / Fantasy (Forever Charmed)

by Rachel Wells

  “Huh? Oh, I’ve got a killer headache, that’s all.”

  “Why don’t you ask your grandma if you can go early?”

  Just then Mandy’s grandmother walked in behind the counter. “Ask grandma what?”

  “Um…” Mandy began.

  “Mandy’s got a headache. I told her she should ask you if she could leave early,” Ally interrupted.

  “Well why didn’t you say something, Dear? Of course you can go if you’re not feeling well,” Nana nodded.

  “Well, if you don’t mind,” Mandy said.

  “Of course not!”

  Mandy untied her apron and went to hang it up in the back. She was grabbing her bag when her grandmother walked in holding a bouquet of lavender branches. “Here, sweetie, take these with you.” Mandy looked questioningly from the bouquet to her grandmother. “Put them in a vase of water on your nightstand and take a nap. You’ll feel like a new person when you wake up,” Nana’s eyes crinkled up.

  “Um, ok, Nana.” Mandy took the aromatic flowers and went out the back door to where the Boat was waiting silently for her. She drove home without even bothering to turn on her radio. It was nice to just be immersed in the silence, alone with no one else to distract her. Her mind began to swirl at a fast pace over the crazy conversation from that morning. She felt like a tornado was whipping through her mind, taking her sanity along with it.

  It was crazy that her grandmother would even hint at such a ludicrous story, even crazier to expect that Mandy would even consider believing it. What was the craziest, and perhaps the scariest detail, was that Mandy was finding herself considering it. What ifs were running through her head at the speed of a train. What if Nana was telling the truth? What if she was able to heal people? What if she some sort of ability? What if Mandy also had that ability? What if that wasn’t so crazy?

  Another part of Mandy was not about to accept those ideas without a fight however. That part was screaming at the first side. Screaming not to consider the what if’s because it was crazy, no doubt about it. Nana was crazy, and Mandy might be too if she was sitting here trying to unravel it all and put it back together in a way that would make it coherent. There was no such thing as witches, and the only healers were doctors. Not crazy old ladies and wishful teenagers.

  The constant battle waging between both sides of herself left Mandy feeling completely confused as to which side was right. She pulled up to the house, realizing that she would have it to herself. Her mom must have already left for the shop and her dad was at work. Maybe Mandy’s grandmother was right about one thing…she was going to go lay down like Nana had suggested. She just needed some sleep and then she would sort it all out.

  Mandy grabbed an empty vase from under the kitchen sink on her way up to her room. She filled it with water and plopped the lavender branches in, setting it on the nightstand next to her alarm clock. She kicked off her sneakers and fell back onto her pillows, a big yawn escaping Mandy’s mouth. She nestled her head into the downy softness and was asleep in seconds.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  Mandy curved her toes down towards the bed stretching her legs and sighing contentedly. She was awake, but she hadn’t opened her eyes yet. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She was so comfortable here in her nice, soft bed surrounded by that lovely smell. What was that smell anyway? Something tugged at the corner of Mandy’s memory. She had the vague feeling that there was some other reason besides just being so comfortable that she didn’t want to open her eyes. Mandy inhaled deeply, letting the perfumed air completely saturate her. Lavender. Headache. Nana. Witch! Mandy’s eyes flew open.

  Mandy had almost managed to forget during her blissed out nap. Almost, but not completely. Well, at least her headache seemed to be gone. She looked over at the vase. The lavender branches were gracefully drooping over the edge, seeming to beckon to Mandy with their tender arms outstretched. Before she fully knew what she was doing, Mandy found herself with her head bent over the blossoms breathing in their intoxicating incense. As she inhaled it was as if a sort of calm enveloped Mandy, soothing all the ripples of stress away and leaving a cool, blue pond in its wake. Mandy felt as if she could think clearly. Could it possibly have something to do with the flowers?

  Mandy wanted to tell herself no, and yet she felt herself saying yes. Obviously it had something to with the flowers. And obviously, Nana knew what she was talking about. In her new state of mind, Mandy realized she did not feel the need to rationalize what she was so easily accepting. A new part of Mandy seemed to have found a voice. The voice was only saying one thing: believe.

  Mandy sat up, staring into space. Nana was a healer. That sentence didn’t seem so bad. She was going to need a more precise definition of the word “healer” however. Mandy wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. She remembered Nana also saying “white witch”. Mandy walked over to her computer and opened Internet Explorer. Thank goodness for the internet, she thought to herself. She typed the words “white witch” into the search bar.

  Mandy scanned the pages, seeing words like “good witch” and “healer” dispersed here and there. She then did a new search for the word “healer”. Words like “alternative medicine” and “faith healer” popped up. Mandy sighed and closed the browser. Obviously she was going to have to talk to Nana. Mandy didn’t want to go talk to Nana right now though. She wanted some time to absorb this newness by herself and straighten out her thoughts and questions. She looked back at the clock on her nightstand. 3:30. She still had time to kill before her parents would be home. She didn’t have any new books to read right now…read. Suddenly she remembered the letters. She hadn’t finished reading those yet.

  Mandy was surprised at how she had forgotten the little mystery that was sitting quietly folded up in front of her. She eagerly unfolded the crumbly papers and laid them out again as she had last night. Last night seemed like a million years ago. Okay, she thought. I’ve read both of Mary’s and Mother’s. Mandy gingerly picked the three letters and set them aside. So I’ve got Lavinia’s and then these weird looking recipes left. And the pressed flowers. I’ll start with Lavinia’s.

  Mandy turned on the desk lamp in order to illuminate the old and faded letter. Carefully she smoothed the paper out. As her hand skimmed the surface she wondered who these women had been. Her mind conjured up images of young women in drab costumes, one thin and worn looking, one rosy and plump. She let her mind label them. The thin, tired looking one had to be Mary, the plump, carefree looking one must be Lavinia. Lavinia. Suddenly Mandy realized her mind was wandering. She shook her head and looked down at the letter:

  August 5, 1769

  Dearest Sister Mary,

  I do hope this letter finds thee healthy and in good spirits. I have received your correspondence with glad hands. It seems so long since we have last seen each other. I must learn to accept this separation with open arms. You are performing a most important work in a place that must need you, or I know you would come back in a heartbeat if you knew how missed you truly are.

  I am glad to hear that your work is going well. It sounds as if the good people of York are truly benefiting from your presence. I know you will continue on despite any hardships or struggles that come your way.

  Sister, it is with a weary heart that I must relate to you this next piece of information. Husband has read your letters and inquires as to what your healing consists of. I tried to explain in a way which would not alarm him as to what it is you and Mother do. He wants no part of it. As you may fear, he also desires me to have no part of it either. He has given me leave to write you one last time but henceforth says we must cut ties with you and Mother.

  Sister, I beg of you to understand! You and Mother especially should understand the reasoning behind what Husband says. We have young children that must be thought of, and you know how townsfolk can be when they do not fully understand something. Gossip abounds and rumors fly, and soon no one knows left from right. Husband says I can not risk
being accused of anything that would tarnish or damage my family and our reputation here.

  Please know that I will always love you and think of you often as I am and ever will be yours,

  Lavinia

  Mandy’s mouth fell open as she read the end of the letter. Mary’s own sister ended the relationship because her husband had told her to? Mandy was shocked.

  Times had really changed since the days of this letter. Mandy couldn’t help but feel sorry for Mary. The thin, tired woman from before appeared in Mandy’s mind again, looking sad and forlorn. Her mouth was turned down in a slight frown and her eyes appeared to have unshed tears in them. The image was gone as suddenly as it appeared. Mandy raised her eyebrows and sighed. Poor Mary. How lonely she must have been.

  Mandy felt confused as she mulled the letter over. In the beginning of the letter Lavinia had sounded as if she understood and even approved of Mary’s healing work. Yet in the second half of the letter, she appeared to side with her husband. Mandy knew that in those days, women didn’t go against what their husbands said, so that would probably explain the path of this letter. Perhaps Lavinia had been trying to convey her true feelings about Mary’s work in the first half of the letter in a way that would not seem contrary to her husband’s opinion. Mandy shook her head. Mary had been dead for hundreds of year and yet the reality and sadness of her life suddenly felt tangible, as if it had been given a rebirth of its own.

  Mandy folded the letter and put to the side of top of its companions. The recipes were next. Mandy placed them next to each other in a row and began to look them over. They were all written in the same flowing, old-fashioned script as the letters. They appeared to be short and simple, with only a few ingredients and directions written on each paper. The first paper was as follows:

  Healing Tea

  Bring water from a clean and flowing stream or brook to a boil over fire whilst chanting, “Illness be gone, Health come unto us” three times. Steep in the water for five minutes three petals from a white rose and seven mint leaves. Inhale deeply a calming and cleansing breath before drinking the tea, and again after the drink is gone. One should start to feel the effects of this immediately if done correctly.

  Mandy whistled low under her breath. While the recipe seemed harmless enough, it still seemed weird at the same time. There was chanting involved and specific numbers of leaves and petals needed. On the up side, at least it was all natural. Couldn’t be any worse for anybody than the abundance of energy drinks on the market for sale in today’s world. Mandy turned her attention to the second recipe. It said simply:

  For Wisdom

  Keep in a pocket made of green cloth sage with small twigs or bark from an oak tree. When carried with a person knowledge will follow.

  Mandy laid this paper to the side, almost dismissing it as too simple to be of any real use. These recipes or whatever they were did not seem to be anything she would classify as “witchy”. Instead they just seemed more like eccentricities for superstitious people. The thought flickered through Mandy’s mind that perhaps that all that was going on here, a bunch of superstitious old people. The third recipe looked unassuming as well, in fact Mandy wasn’t even sure she could categorize it as a recipe. It only said:

  For protection, happiness, love and peacefulness,

  Ivy, rose, lavender, and violet know best.

  Definitely weird. But still harmless. Mandy tried to collect her thoughts about what she had just read. So far she knew that Mary was involved in something that not everyone approved of, she was some sort of nature freak, and it seemed like there was a good possibility that she could be the superstitious sort.

  Mandy folded up the papers trying to piece together these bits of information with the events that had unfolded in her life over the past couple of days. Nana claimed to be a healer. Mandy tossed that under superstitious. Nana owned a flower shop. Nature freak. And apparently Nana had a reputation as being something. Mandy hesitated to use the word “witch” but the conversation with Henry replayed through Mandy’s mind at lightening speed… “He believes your grandma does something to those damn flowers, like casts a spell or something. He insists it’s true, and he insists your grandma is well aware of what she is.” Something. Mandy’s mind seemed to latch onto that word. Something, as in the unknown. What? Witch? Healer? Crazy? Mandy sighed. She picked up the last paper with the pressed papers. The faintest aroma of a bouquet seemed to tickle Mandy’s nose. Mandy looked questioningly at the flowers as if they could give her an explanation as to how they could possibly still share their perfume after all these long years. They stared blankly up at her from the page.

  As Mandy had noted on her first perusal of this paper, each flower was labeled with its common name and scientific genus. She remembered seeing that each had another description written under it and she picked up the paper, curious to read the entries more in depth and at her leisure. The rose petals caught her eye first because they still had their downy-like softness to them. Mandy ran her finger lightly over them, getting goose bumps as she did so. The words “love, healing” were writing in the same delicate script as the previous papers. The violet petals still had their royal purple hue fresh as if they had been plucked yesterday. Mandy’s fingers were drawn to this specimen as well and she found that they still had a velvet feel to them. “Protection, healing” were written underneath. Pansy, “love”; daisy, “lust, luck”; morning glory, “alertness”; honeysuckle, “protection”; hyacinth, “love, protection, happiness”; ivy, “protection, healing”; lavender, “peace, purification”; mint, “healing”; sage, “wisdom, loyalty”; primrose, “protection, love”.

  The list and the flowers seemed endless. Mandy rubbed her arms to try to chase away the chill that suddenly had taken hold of her. Each of the petals still had their delicate glory to them as if they had not been taken away from their nurturing mother earth. They were as soft and fresh as a baby’s fresh washed cheek, their velvet perfection and aroma still intact. Impossible, Mandy thought. Over two hundred years old and preserved perfectly. Mandy stared at the page and its contents until the petals blurred together in a rainbow swirl, colors as bright and vivid as a carousel spinning around endlessly. Mandy shut her eyes to shield herself from the overwhelmingness of it all. She suddenly felt the distinct need to get out of here. Out of her room, out of her house. Away from all the mystery and weirdness. Anywhere would be better than sitting cooped up in here among long dead people’s treasures that should be dead themselves.

  Mandy turned to look at the clock. 4:45. Her parents would be home soon. She wanted to get out before she fell scrutiny to their glances and questionings. Quickly she folded up the mysterious papers and put them under her closed laptop. She grabbed her gray hoodie that was hanging on the hook behind her door and her wallet off the foot of her bed and went down the steps that led to the front door, snatching her car keys off the hook without a backwards look.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  As Mandy climbed into the boat she had no idea where she was going, she just knew she needed some space to clear her mind and think. Without even thinking about it she pulled up to one of the metered parking spaces that lined Long Sands beach and anchored the boat there.

  As she stepped onto the sidewalk to feed the meter the salty sea breeze came at a rush towards Mandy, slapping her cheeks and stinging her eyes. Good thing she had brought the hoodie. She pulled it on and plunked some change into the ever hungry meter. She walked up the sidewalk a bit until she found the rocky little path that had been worn between the bushes by people cutting down to the sand and water.

  Mandy picked her way gingerly down the path, looking for the best stones to step on. The coast of Maine was unbelievably rocky. The thought that this was the very edge of Maine, the edge of America, the edge of land itself always had sort of fascinated Mandy. Behind Mandy lay plenty of land populated with people, stores, hotels, restaurants, homes. Yet only a few yards in front of her lay the end of it all. T
he sand magically slipped into the endless abyss of ocean. When the land resurfaced it was another country, another land, different people, different stores, different hotels and restaurants and homes.

  Mandy liked to ramble alone aimlessly up and down the shore thinking these thoughts. Long Sands beach had always seemed able to calm her, even though it might not be the sunniest beach in the world. The rocky outcroppings speckled with fat seagulls and the stormy Atlantic always rushing angrily towards the gray sand only to get pulled back to its unknown depths brought with it a certain gloriousness. Far off in the distance Boon Island stood shrouded behind a veil of fog and mystery. Boon Island had always intrigued Mandy as well. It was too far to see it very clearly, yet it was close enough to see the outline and its light on occasions. Rumors and legends abounded about Boon, as it had been the sight of a shipwreck hundreds of years ago. Supposedly the crew resorted to cannibalism. Mandy shuddered even though she had grown up with this story.

  Now nothing much was left to look at on Boon. There was no light keeper, as most lighthouses these days had become the work of automated lights and computer systems. The house that had once stood lonely on the little uninhabited island had been washed away in storm long ago. Mandy always tried to imagine what it must have been like to live on that strange little rock cluster, close to land and yet still isolated, with the crashing waves and the crying gulls your only friends.

  Mandy was walking along staring at the vague shape of Boon when she suddenly bumped into someone. She blinked and snapped out of her reverie and immediately felt the heat of a blush steal across her face. “I’m so sorry!” she stammered, looking up and over to see the face of her victim. To her horror, she recognized the victim as Lucas from the flower shop. The one with the “powers” as Ally had put it. She hadn’t thought it was possible, but somehow Mandy knew her face had just gotten even more scarlet.