“She has to put herself to rest,” Bay said. “We can’t do that for her.”
“We can’t,” Terry said. “It’s sad. It really is. You’re not responsible for everything in this world, though. You’re not responsible for everyone who lives, and you’re certainly not responsible for everyone who dies.”
“I had to find her.”
“I know you did,” Terry said. He held his hand out to her. “Now you need to come back to camp and have some breakfast. I’ll call and have a team come out here. Donna will be home before it gets dark. I promise.”
Bay studied his hand for a moment, unsure.
Terry looked as though he wanted to say something, perhaps apologize. Instead, he shook his hand again to get her attention. “I can help you get Donna’s body home if you help me and come back to camp.”
Bay took his hand, her smaller fingers wrapping around his larger digits and gripping tightly. “Okay.”
Terry smiled. “Come on. We have a long walk back to camp. They were making pancakes last time I checked.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Bay said.
Terry glanced at the body. “I guess you probably aren’t. Don’t worry. By the time we get to camp you’ll get your appetite back.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because I know you,” Terry said, leading Bay back down the path toward camp. “You’re always hungry.”
I followed them, silent. It seemed the one Bay needed help from this weekend wasn’t me after all. You learn something new every day.
Ten
“Are you okay?” Marnie asked, studying my face as I leaned against the picnic table. I was only half listening. Most of my attention was focused on the log next to the lake. Bay sat on one end of it and Terry sat on the other. They were talking, although I had no idea what the conversation entailed.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“I can’t believe Bay found Donna’s body,” Twila said. “She must have been terrified.”
“She was more worked up because Donna didn’t want to cross over,” I said. “She was barely fazed by the body.”
“Kids are resilient,” Marnie said. “Bay is resilient. I take it Terry apologized.”
“He didn’t,” I said. “I thought he was going to, but instead he just held out his hand and made her come to him.”
“Why do you think he did that?”
“He said he was willing to help her, but she had to help him first,” I said. “She thought about it for a second, and then she … did it. It was like a miracle.”
“I’m not sure it was a miracle,” Marnie said, chuckling. “I think it’s far more likely that Bay was ready for some help. She’s a lot like you. It takes her forever to admit when she needs someone to help her. She’d rather do it on her own. She gets that from you. You know that, right?”
“I don’t think she’d like to hear that.”
“Probably not,” Marnie said. “Still, she’s got a lot of you in her. Of course, she’s got a lot of Aunt Tillie in her, too. I even see a little bit of Mom in her. They’re all mixtures. None of them are exactly like us.”
“That’s probably for the best,” I said. “I’m not sure I like myself some of the time.”
“I like myself most of the time,” Marnie said. “I love Clove all of the time. I love Bay and Thistle all of the time, too.”
I arched an eyebrow. “All of the time?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I want to strangle them sometimes. I still love them.”
I snorted. “Can you finish cleaning up? I want to … .”
“Go and eavesdrop on Terry and Bay?” Marnie asked.
“Yes.”
“Go. We’ve got this.”
I approached Bay and Terry quietly, not wanting to disturb them. The magic of their relationship was in the simplicity, and when they thought someone was watching they clammed up.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Terry said. “It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t nice.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Terry said. “You’re not a monster. None of you are monsters.”
“What about Lila?”
“Lila is a small monster,” Terry conceded. “She’s going to grow up to be a big monster. You’re not going to, though. You’re going to grow up to be an angel.”
“You always say that,” Bay said, giggling. “I’m not an angel.”
“You are to me,” Terry said. “Sometimes I can even see your halo. It almost never needs to be shined.”
“You’re only saying that because you feel bad about me taking off into the woods,” Bay said. “I didn’t do that because of you.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because Donna came to me in the cabin,” Bay said. “She needed me to find her, and she knew she was running out of time.”
“Why didn’t you tell your mom?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“She has trouble with the ghosts,” Bay said. “She doesn’t like it that I see them. I can see that when I talk about them. She’s embarrassed.”
“Like you were embarrassed to have her run the camp this weekend?”
Bay nodded.
“Your mom isn’t embarrassed by you seeing the ghosts,” Terry said. “She thinks everything you do is magic. Well, most things. That sneaking around stuff you and your cousins like to do isn’t fun, but most kids do that so I think she’ll probably let it slide.
“She’s proud you want to help the ghosts, Bay,” he continued. “She’s proud of you. She’s also afraid that if anyone else finds out what you can do, things will become … difficult. She doesn’t care whether things are difficult for her, but she wants your life to be great.”
“I think she’s embarrassed.”
“I think you want to think that,” Terry said. “I think, in your heart, you know that’s not the case.”
“If I promise to tell her next time, will you stop with the deep talk?”
Terry grinned. “No. We’re not done yet.”
“I knew you were going to say that,” Bay grumbled.
“You can’t wander off in the woods by yourself, Bay,” Terry said. “You could get lost. You could fall. Something could happen to you. You have to promise me that you’re not going to do that again.”
“I promise.”
“Don’t just say the words,” Terry said. “Mean them.”
“I can’t promise I’ll always go and get my mom,” Bay said. “I promise to at least take Clove and Thistle with me next time, though.”
Terry sighed. “I guess that’s better than nothing.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Terry nodded.
“Why did you come back over to our camp this morning? I would have thought you’d stay away … at least until lunch … because of what happened.”
“I honestly don’t know why I came here,” Terry said. “I only know that I had a feeling I needed to be here. I had a feeling you needed me to be here.”
“What do you feel now?”
“I feel we should probably take a kayak ride and enjoy the lake one last time before we go,” Terry said. “I think Donna would like that.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
Bay jumped to her feet and leaned over, giving him a quick hug. Her bright smile was back. “Can I tip you over?”
“No.”
“Please?”
Terry sighed. “I don’t even know why you’re asking,” he said. “You know I can’t say ‘no’ to you.”
“I know. I’ll get Clove and Thistle.”
Bay skipped off in her cousins’ direction, and when Terry’s eyes landed on me he couldn’t do anything but shrug. “I may spoil her a little,” he said.
That was okay. Sometimes she needed it.
“WHAT happened to her face?” Aunt Willa was beside herself when she caught sight of Rosemary.
“I think it
’s called karma,” I said, placing my hands on my hips as I regarded her. “You and I need to have a talk.”
“I’m not talking about anything with you until you tell me what happened to my granddaughter’s face,” Aunt Willa said, gripping Rosemary’s chin and tilting it in my direction.
“You know exactly what happened to her face. It’s poison oak.”
“This is beyond poison oak,” Aunt Willa hissed. “This is … something else. Something wicked.”
“Something witchy, you mean,” I said. “Rosemary, why don’t you tell your grandmother what happened to your face.”
“I have no idea,” Rosemary said, her eyes widening with faux innocence. “I woke up this way. I think someone wanted to hurt me, Grammy.”
“What’s going on?” Marnie asked, moving around the picnic table warily. “Do I need to get a rope to tie anyone up?”
“Aunt Willa and I were just about to have a … discussion,” I said.
“About what?”
“About why she really sent Rosemary to camp in Hemlock Cove,” I said.
“I thought she could embrace her roots,” Aunt Willa said. “Apparently that was a mistake. It seems her roots cast a curse on her.”
“The curse was for everyone in the cabin.” I was surprised by Aunt Tillie’s sudden appearance. She’s sneaky when she wants to be.
“How do you know that?” Aunt Willa asked.
“I’m the one who cast it.”
“Why?”
“The curse was meant to teach some nasty little girls a lesson,” Aunt Tillie said, shooting a pointed look in Rosemary’s direction. “If the afflicted girl admitted what she did and wanted to make amends, the symptoms faded. If she lied or plotted or did something mean … well … then the symptoms got worse.
“There were ten girls in that cabin,” she continued. “Three of them were cured right away when they cleaned up the mess. Two more were better by lunch because they’re not bad kids, they were just hanging out with bad kids.
“That leaves five girls who showed continued symptoms,” Aunt Tillie said. “Three of those girls figured out what was going on and adjusted their attitudes. Only two girls are still showing symptoms. And, go figure, those are the nastiest girls at the camp. Coincidence? I think not.”
“I want this child’s face back the way it’s supposed to be right now,” Aunt Willa commanded. “I’m not messing around.”
“When Rosemary adjusts her attitude, her face will return to normal,” Aunt Tillie said. “I’m not lifting the curse. I don’t care what you want.”
“I’ll sue you,” Aunt Willa warned.
“For what? Casting a curse? Do you really think you’ll find a judge who won’t throw that case out of court?” Aunt Tillie asked.
“This is … outrageous,” Aunt Willa thundered. “I sent this child here for a few days of fun. Look what you’ve done to her.”
“She did it to herself,” I said. “And you didn’t send her here for fun. You sent her here to see what we were doing, and to whisper in a few little ears so you could try to cause trouble for our children.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Don’t bother lying,” Marnie said. “It took us a little while to figure it out, but you did the same thing when we were in high school. You sent Nettie here to undermine us. That’s what you were doing with Rosemary. Isn’t that true, Rosemary?”
“No,” Rosemary said, shaking her head.
The lie caused another red boil to appear on the end of her nose.
I arched an eyebrow as I faced off with Aunt Willa. “You might want to tell her to stop lying,” I said. “You also might want to pack her up and get out of our town.”
“Excuse me?” Aunt Willa was livid. “I grew up in this town. This is my home. You can’t kick me out of town. You don’t have the right, and you don’t have the power.”
“You can make an argument about whether or not we have the right,” Aunt Tillie said. “Don’t doubt for a second that we have the power, though.”
Aunt Willa involuntarily shivered, a hint of Aunt Tillie’s power licking her skin with the wind. “You are not my boss!”
“As far as this town is concerned, we are,” I said. “We want you gone. We want Nettie and Rosemary gone, too. Don’t you dare come back to this town until you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”
“Keep Nettie away from us,” Marnie said. “Keep Rosemary away from our children. They’re good girls. They don’t need the likes of Rosemary around them.”
“And you keep away from me,” Aunt Tillie said. “We may be sisters, but we’re not family. My family is these girls … and their girls. They’re my family. You’re nothing but a … disappointment.”
“I don’t have to stand here and take this,” Aunt Willa said. “You can’t threaten me. You can’t get away with it. I won’t stand for it!”
“Then go.”
“Oh, I’m going,” Aunt Willa said. “You just remember, though, this is going to come back to haunt you one day. I can promise you that!”
“We’ve dealt with our fair share of hauntings,” I said. “We prefer the friendly ghosts. I wasn’t joking. Don’t you dare come back here unless you’re ready to apologize for everything you’ve done.”
“We’re never going to apologize,” Rosemary said. “We’re the ones who are right.”
“Go,” I said, pointing toward the parking lot. “Take that … thing … with you.”
“Come on, Rosemary,” Aunt Willa said. “We’re leaving.”
“You’re not leaving,” Aunt Tillie said. “We’re kicking you out.”
“What about my face, though?” Rosemary looked worried. “It won’t still look like this when school starts, will it?”
“Of course not,” Aunt Willa said.
“What if it does?”
“Then we’ll buy some good makeup. Come on. I can’t wait to get away from this place. It’s always been a cesspool. It’s always going to be a cesspool as long as they’re here.”
“Can we stop at Burger King on the way home? I’m hungry.”
“Burger King? Have you been eating saturated fats?” Aunt Willa was furious. “I can’t believe this! I just can’t believe it!”
AN HOUR later, the camp was mostly packed. Our girls were the only ones left, and they were running around the beach with Terry and the boys while we closed things down.
After showing the body retrieval team where to find Donna, Terry returned to camp. His boys would be gone within the hour, and he seemed to be having a good time playing with the kids.
“Are you all packed up?”
I jumped when I heard the voice, turning to find the dark-haired boy watching me from a few feet away. “I am. What are you doing? Why aren’t you playing with the others?”
The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just curious about what you were doing.”
“Are you excited to go home?”
“Not really,” the boy said. “It’s boring in the city. I like the country better.”
“Well, maybe you’ll move to the country one day,” I said.
“I’m going to move here.”
“Really? What makes you say that?”
“I like it here,” he said. “It’s quiet. It’s fun. I like the girls.”
I rolled my eyes. I knew exactly what girl he liked. “I’m sure you do.”
“What’s her name? The blond girl, I mean. What’s her name?”
I thought about telling him, but in the end it didn’t seem a good idea. It’s not as though we were ever going to see him again. “I think you should get going,” I said, pointing. “Terry is herding you guys into the canoes. I think he’s ready to get you guys home.”
“You’re going to see me again,” the boy said. “I know you think you’re not, but you are.”
“How do you know that?”
The boy shrugged. “I just know. Sometimes you get a feeling about things.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Another boy, one with the same coloring as the first, raced up the embankment. “Come on. We have to go.”
“I’m going,” the first boy said, watching the second race back toward the beach. He turned to me one more time. “You really are going to see me again. Maybe we’ll be neighbors.”
“That would be nice,” I said, smiling at him.
“Come on, Landon!” The second boy stood on the shore, gesturing wildly. “Stop screwing around. We’re going to be late. Mom is going to be mad if we’re late.”
I watched the boys scamper off together, internally thanking the goddess for our girls. They may be dramatic, and they may be obnoxious at times, but at least they are easy to understand.
I glanced around the camp one more time, relieved to be saying goodbye.
“We should go,” Bay said, stepping up beside me. “I want to go home.”
“I do, too,” I said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m great,” Bay said. “Can we stop for ice cream?”
I sighed. Terry wasn’t the only one who couldn’t tell her ‘no.’ “Sure. Get your cousins and Aunt Tillie in the car. It will be nice to go back to our boring lives.”
“Oh, our lives are never going to be boring,” Bay said. “They can’t. It’s in our genes.”
I thought about arguing, but it seemed pointless. She was right. “It is definitely in our genes. Now get your butt in the car. I can’t wait to get out of this place.”
“It’s not so bad,” Bay said. “It’s kind of pretty.”
“Oh, now it’s pretty?”
“It was always pretty,” Bay said. “It’s people who bring the ugliness.”
That was pretty wise for a fourteen-year-old. “Are you worried about Donna not passing on?”
Bay shook her head, her ponytail swinging. “She’ll go when she’s ready. We all have to do things in our own time.”
“That’s not what you thought earlier.”
“It’s what I know now,” Bay said, her eyes twinkling. “That’s all that matters.”
She was absolutely right. “Come on, kid,” I said. “Let’s leave the pretty place and wreak havoc at our own home. I think we’ll all be happy then.”
A Witch of a Time Page 33
