“Now, darlings,” Mother said, as we took her arms and entered the house. “Do be lambs and get me my fancy hat. I’m having dinner with the Duchess of Bedford.”
A strange agitation swept through Sister House that afternoon.
Merry fought with Frank on the phone about custody rights, Ruth Anne complained that it was too noisy to write, and Paul wandered around, nodding at the right moments and saying the right things, but seemed so distracted by his phone I thought Eve was going to snatch it from him and flush it down the toilet.
Even June Bug had a bad day, claiming she’d forgotten to cap the lids on the jars that housed her collection of critters. She dashed through the house yelling, “Here, buggy buggy!” with a jar in one hand and a piece of fruit in the other, as the rest of us scratched our arms on the sofa watching It’s a Wonderful Life.
Eve finally came up with an excuse to get us out of there.
“I’m taking Maggie to a baby sign language class in Linsburg,” she announced in her usual fabulous intonation.
Everyone must have thought it sounded as abysmal as I did because no one asked to come along.
“Is it my imagination or is Mother acting particularly weird?” I asked her, as we sped towards Linsburg in Paul’s black Explorer.
“Nope. She’s really off her rocker now,” my sister replied, not bothering to slow down for the squirrel that darted across the road.
I thought about Mother’s rules of karma and wondered what fate Eve would have suffered had she had hit the animal.
“Sometimes when I’m with her, she is lucid and present,” I said, remembering some of the more pleasurable talks I’d had with Mother in the last few weeks. I’d grown closer to her in those moments, and had even begun to understand what she might be like as a person, sans the Sasha Shantay mask. “…And then she flips like a light switch, talking to people who aren't even there.”
“At least she remembers your name. She calls me Natalie and asks me to turn down her bed or fetch her some tea.”
“Do you do it?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
I watched the scenery whiz by the open window. Eve drove so fast I could hardly read the exit signs.
“She talks to Larinda a lot,” I said. “It’s unsettling.”
The sun was beginning to set, casting waves of pink and orange swirls into the sky. Eve slowed as we rolled into the parking lot of a bar right outside of Linsburg. The lot was full of cars and the sounds of classic rock reverberated from the walls.
“She doesn’t just talk to Larinda,” I continued, trying to hammer in my point as Eve turned off the ignition. “She talks someone named Robbie, too. It’s like when June Bug has tea parties with her stuffed animals, but there’s no tea and there’s no stuffed animals.”
Eve’s nostrils flared as she faced me. “Maggie, there’s something you should know.”
Eve never led off with the words there’s something you should know. Those were words for people who took things seriously.
I clutched the door handle, bracing myself for the news.
“Mom’s still sick, Mags. Very, very sick.” A tear slid down her cheek. She swallowed. I watched the lump in her throat slide down. “We didn’t want to tell you because…” Her eyes fell to my belly. “But the doctors don’t give her long. Six months if we are lucky. Probably less.”
Eve buried her face in her hands, weeping.
I shook my head in disbelief. “We cured her, Evie. We cured her, remember? She’s okay, now. I know it.”
I spoke to reassure myself as much as I did her. Everything we’d done: coming home, reopening Mother’s store, cutting Leah’s hair, and embracing Mother in our circle at the hospital. We’d saved her; we’d broken the curse.
“Maggie,” she sobbed. “Mom has dementia and she’s in the final stages. It was more than a curse. The dementia weakened her, making her susceptible to it, but…”
“But? But!?” I pulled at the door handle, trying to get out, but it wouldn’t open. “Shut up!”
“…Merry’s trying to buy her more time, but she doesn’t know how much longer she can help her.”
“Stop it, Eve!”
“…Merry thinks Mom’s trying to hold on long enough to train us …
“Is Merry a motherfucking doctor, all of a sudden?”
Why wouldn't the door handle budge? I yanked at it, my face hot and beaded with sweat. Eve didn’t know what she was talking about. Merry didn’t either. Even the doctors had their heads up their asses. Mother was going to be okay. That’s what all of this was about. This whole Goddamned thing.
“Maggie please…” Eve looked at me, her eyes pleading. She put a hand on my shoulder and I felt her energy seep into me. It was surprisingly warm. “They made me promise not to tell you because…”
“Because I’m a pregnant basket case. I get it.” The door finally broke free and swung open.
Six months. They were giving Mother six months. Or less. The sounds from inside the bar were happy, jovial. How could anyone be happy when the world was falling apart?
Eve spoke again. I could see her mouth moving, but I only heard the beating of my own heart. She put both arms around my neck, pulling me to her. Her tears washed over my face, but I didn’t join her in crying. Mother hadn't been taken yet.
“We are going to beat it. Again.” My heart thumped with new resolve. “With the money we make, we can afford better doctors. These Dark Root quacks don’t know what they are talking about. Besides, we are witches, Eve. There has to be a spell, or potion, or amulet, or something…”
“Maggie,” Eve said. “Witchcraft doesn’t solve everything.”
Ten
THE KIDS AREN’T ALRIGHT
“Well, that was a complete waste of time.” Eve stormed out of the bar, almost hitting me in the face with the door as she left.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, catching up to her.
We climbed into the Explorer and slammed our doors simultaneously. Eve turned over the ignition but didn’t pull out of the lot.
“What gets me,” she said, turning on the windshield wipers just as it started to rain. “…Is that you were able to rig the game against me that night at The Watering Hole, and yet here, you couldn't drop a pool ball into a sinkhole.”
“I did the best I could,” I said, refusing to look at her. “I never said I was a good player.”
She snorted. “That’s an understatement. June Bug would have made a better partner than you.”
“Well, maybe next time, you’ll take her.”
“Trust me. If she were two feet taller and had an ID, I would.”
“I suggest you drive us home,” I said, cracking the window to release some of the hot air that had accumulated inside. “It’s not like we are out anything, just a few hours.”
“Hours I’ll never get back,” she glowered, clenching the wheel at 11 and 1 o’clock.
“What would you be doing right now, anyway? Organizing your closet? Or combing through Paul’s texts to make sure he’s not talking to a woman?”
“I already organized my closet,” she said, punching the gas.
“Goodbye, ladies,” one of the guys we’d been playing called to us with a grin and a wave.
I flipped him off.
“Oh, great,” Eve said, “for all we know he might be crazy. He could get in his car, chase us down, and rape us. Or worse.” We squealed out of the lot, kicking up enough mud to paint the back window brown.
“What’s worse than rape?” I asked, rolling up my window and locking the door.
“Maggie, I lived in the city,” she said, emphasizing the word as if I had spent my entire existence in the hollers.
“So?”
Her chin trembled and her face paled. “There are lots of bad things that can happen to you. Take it from me.”
I stared at her, wondering what she meant. But she quickly drew a smile back onto her face. “We just need to get better,” she said, her words Southern-sweet.
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“I think you need Prozac,” I said.
“Have you been practicing like you were supposed to?” Eve flipped her hair back, her eyes focused on the road.
“Of course, I’ve been practicing. You were there.”
We’d been up in the attic apartment over Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe every morning before the store opened, working on our plan to get rich playing pool. Eve placed tennis balls and balloons strategically around the room and ordered me to perform “tricks.”
“Put that one under the chair,” she’d say, directing my attention to a blue balloon. “Roll that ball off the shelf…”
It was hard work, and I failed more often than I succeeded, but every once in a while a ball rolled or a balloon bounced and Eve and I would stand up, whoop around the room, and high five. I wasn’t sure what made the difference, but I seemed to do better when I was calm and centered.
“I think I was too upset today,” I said. “Maybe you shouldn't deliver bad news like that before we play a game.”
Eve pressed her still-glossed lips together. “I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m not good at keeping most secrets.”
I blinked rapidly at the word “most” as I realized there was a well of information inside her I didn’t have access to.
“I’m glad you told me,” I said. “I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m a delicate flower.”
“More like a weed.” She tossed me a smile as she turned onto a side road, a shortcut of hers. We fell into a deep thatch of woods where the rain never made it to the ground. The thick canopy of leaves collected water, funneling it down to the branches below, creating a series of intricate and beautiful waterfalls. Our own little rain forest.
I patted my purse, glad that we had only played a practice game. I couldn’t risk losing even one dollar. I had somehow missed all of my shots, even the easier ones, and when Eve hit the eight ball just shy of the corner pocket, I couldn’t nudge it the half-inch needed to sink it and win the game. My powers were on the fritz.
“Mother says our magic is tied to Dark root,” I said. “Maybe we need to play in town.”
“Sounds right,” she said, as we cruised into town.
She took the road down Main Street. Most of the shops were closed for the evening, but the lights in Dip Stix Café still burned. We could see Paul and Shane through the window. They were laughing easily with a young woman who sat twirling her hair as she ordered. Eve’s energy bristled and she put her foot on the gas.
“You’re prettier than she is,” I said.
“I know.”
“And Paul’s crazy about you.”
“I know that, too.”
“Then what?”
She tapped the steering wheel. “I’ve always known how to get men. I bat my lashes, ooh and ah over their skills, and pretend to act interested in their hobbies.”
“Not to mention your magic,” I said.
Eve was born with the gift of seduction. Most men couldn’t be within several feet of her without falling victim to her powers. It was one of the reasons I had been so envious of her when we were teenagers.
“Yes, my magic.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’ve just never learned how to keep one. Normally, I get bored before they do. I’m the one who gets text messages from exes and finds excuses not to come around”
“Is Paul avoiding you?”
“No, he isn’t. That’s the worst part. But he’s on that damned phone, texting at all hours. I’m not used to feeling this…this insecure.” She looked at me, lifting her palm. “How do you do it, Maggie?”
I gave her my best sardonic smile. “On the job training, I guess.”
“Hmmm. Yes. I suppose.”
I strained my neck, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Shane. He had not called, or stopped by since the morning he dropped me off at Sister House and I was surprised by how much I missed him. He had said he loved me, but now he avoided me as much as I avoided him.
“When did life get so crazy?” I asked, slumping back into my seat, wondering if Shane texted ex-girlfriends.
“I don’t know,” Eve sighed. “But I want to go back.”
“Back?”
“To when I had some control over things.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling.”
“Pity.”
Eve talked about slipping on a pair of warm pajamas and eating raw cookie dough as Harvest Home came into view. In the living room window, we could see Aunt Dora, her hands covering her face, her shoulders heaving.
“She’s crying,” I said. I’d never seen Aunt Dora so much as sniffle, and the sight broke my heart.
“What’s wrong with her?” Eve asked. We remained in the vehicle, unsure of what to do next.
“She’s scared. Scared of losing her sister, scared of losing her home, scared of a future that feels ominous…like we are.”
Aunt Dora spotted us in the driveway and dabbed the tears from her eyes. She opened the door, speaking cheerfully. “My girls are home! I made cookies. Come inside!”
We gave her quick hugs on our way in.
“What are those fer?” she asked.
“Just because we love you.”
After dessert I pulled Eve into the bedroom and locked the door. “Let’s try again, Eve. I think we can do this. We can practice a little more and then play a few games at The Watering Hole.”
Eve looked tired. “Maggie, let it go.”
“Please, Evie. Think of what we could do with the money! Help Aunt Dora and Mother and Merry and us.” I batted my eyelashes the way she had done in the car when showing me her man-catching moves.
“Fine,” she laughed, her voice fairy light. “When did you become so persuasive?”
“I learned from the best.”
“So it seems.”
I tossed and turned in bed, watching the shadows. I had been lying here for nearly four hours and I still couldn’t sleep.
I tried to get comfortable, pushing a pillow between my legs before flipping onto my stomach and then returning to my back.
All the while my digital clock counted down the time until the witching hour was over––that window between the hours of midnight and three a.m., when the veil between this world and the spirit world was at its thinnest. I had seen things in my life––ghosts and demons––and though I no longer feared them as I had before, on this night I wanted to be left alone.
At last, three o’clock came and I relaxed.
I thought about calling Shane, waking him from his dreams, telling him that I was falling in love with him, too.
“Really?” he’d ask.
“Yes.” Then I remembered. “But…”
“But?”
“I’m pregnant with Michael’s baby.”
I imagined the heavy silence on the other end of the line.
I’d laugh, apologize, and say, “Ha-ha. Just kidding. You know what a prankster I am.” Then, in my neurotic imagination, I’d hang up and he’d wonder what happened as soap opera music played in the background.
Even my fantasies were screwed up.
Though my pregnancy wasn’t obvious to anyone but those who knew about it, I couldn’t hide it forever. But until I got my act together––had a place I could call home and some money in my pocket––I wasn’t ready to face him. My pride wouldn’t let me. When I finally told him, I wanted to be strong enough to withstand his rejection, if that’s what it came to.
In my peripheral vision, I saw something scurry across the floor, a dark shape the size of a toy car. It settled into the corner behind my chair. Was it a rat, or a ghost? I sat up on my elbows, searching the blackness. The shape dissolved into the floor, leaving a trace of its aura behind, like oil from a leaky engine.
Probably just a small spirit passing through.
“Well, you’re no help,” I said, sliding back into my bed. If the damned things were going to visit me in the middle of the night, the least they could do would be to listen to my problems.
A knock on the door startled me more than any spirit could.
I yanked the blankets up to my chin. “Yes?”
“Maggie, sorry to wake you,” Paul said, his voice thick with worry.
“Come in.”
Paul stepped lightly inside, flooding the room with illumination from the hall. He held the cordless house phone, his hand covering the mouthpiece. “It’s that guy you used to date. The one Eve sent away.”
The news both annoyed and amused me.
That guy was Michael, and he had driven all the way from Northern California a month ago to ask me to marry him. Eve had given him one of her special teas and immediately after drinking it, he took off in his van to pursue a woman he had never met in New York, instead.
“Is everything okay?” I asked Paul.
“I don’t know. Sorry. He demanded to talk to you and said he was going to come see you in person if I didn’t put you on the phone right away.”
I took the phone and smiled to let Paul know it was okay.
“I can stick around if you want,” he added.
“I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll holler if I need you.”
Before he left he said, “Okay, good luck.” He left the door open a crack.
“Michael?” I said into the mouthpiece, bracing myself for the strange power he had over me. The first day I met him, I’d followed him out of Dark Root to help form his new religion. I would have stayed with him forever, had I not caught him and Leah together.
“Maggie! I’m so glad to hear your voice. I’m not sure what happened, but I’ve been to New York, following a woman I didn’t know. They put a stalking order on me! What did you do?”
“Sorry, that’s not my brand of magick,” I said, stifling a chuckle.
“Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling. I woke up from this dream. You were having a baby. My baby. Is it true?”
Michael had abilities of his own, though he insisted they all came from God and he was nothing more than a prophet. To be honest, I wasn’t sure where any of this came from, so I couldn’t argue. But if he really was God’s prophet, I reasoned, the world would no longer be here, as he had predicted.
The Magick of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root) Page 11
