The Storycatcher

by Hite, Ann

  “It’s full of bad spirits.”

  “I know. I know,” I said.

  “Don’t act all sassy with me. Have you seen Shelly?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Amanda smiled. “Your uncle was here.”

  “Really.”

  “Didn’t stay too long. Your daddy made sure of that. Your mama went to her room and locked the door. Must have been a bad visit.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Your uncle was driving a big old fancy black car. You sure you didn’t see it?”

  “No, ma’am.” Another lie.

  “Nothing good comes from wisteria blooming in June.” Amanda watched the lavender petals fall to the ground. I just kept quiet. The time for talking would come, and when it did, I could only pray something good would come from all I had to say.

  THAT NIGHT I HEARD a girl’s voice call to me from outside. This would be enough to make most people pull the sheets over their heads. I felt the pressure against my temples, the ache of an unused spell. I stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water. Thump, thump, thump, the pain continued. I fumbled with one of Mama’s good crystal glasses and shattered it on the floor. I began to gather the larger pieces when one sliced into my thumb. Red flashed across my hand. The pressure in my head left and was replaced by a light feeling, relief.

  The girl’s voice, now in the room, called out to me.

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “Make a charm quilt.”

  The pain in my head was gone. I went back to bed.

  MY BODY WAS LIGHTER, better, when I didn’t eat, but I couldn’t tell Mama or Amanda such a thing.

  “Look here, Miss Faith, I made your favorite red velvet cake to go with your lunch.” Amanda held out the platter with the beautiful white frosted cake on it.

  “Thank you. I’ll have a slice after supper.”

  Amanda frowned. “What’s got into you, girl? You’re not eating a thing.”

  I forced a laugh. “I have to watch my figure. You’d make me fatter than a laying hen if I let you.”

  She gave me her look. “You look on the skinny side to me.”

  “Amanda, I have a question.”

  “What that be?”

  “What is a charm quilt?” I looked away.

  Amanda grew still. “Why you ask about such a thing?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard one of the church women talking about making a charm quilt.”

  Amanda clicked her tongue. “I just bet you did. Them holier-than-thou ladies.” She placed a tea towel lightly over the cake and put it away. “It ain’t no quilt you want to make, Faith. Charm quilts ain’t nothing but trouble. They can be one thing or another, but most of the time they all have meanness in common. Can’t think of no other reason to make one.”

  “How about protection? Can you protect someone by making one?”

  Amanda gave me a sharp look. “Well, I reckon, but I ain’t never heard of such around here.”

  “But I could do it?”

  “You need to get your mind off any charms. You know how I feel about such things. They ain’t made for children.”

  I laughed. “I’m not a child.”

  Amanda gave me a real smile. “Leave magic to me. A charm quilt ain’t nothing but hurt, Miss Faith.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Okay.” I left for my room. The voice said a charm quilt.

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON when the heat was the worst, I went upstairs for a nap. I had the strangest dream. Nana Tyson stood in my room near the window. I had only seen pictures of her, but I knew her instantly. She wore a white suit, the pricey kind found in cities. Her body looked frail, and I rushed from my bed to support her so she wouldn’t collapse. Her smile was sad. “Your mother isn’t here to meet me? She sent you instead?”

  “She’s not here. Only me.”

  “She never chose to see what sat right in front of her, never. I’m so sorry you were pulled into their mess, sweetie.” Nana Tyson’s words woke me up. The room was empty, but I swore I smelled her perfume, a light lavender fragrance.

  I had slept all afternoon and it was night. I tiptoed through the hall to Daddy’s room. The door was cracked open and his bed was untouched. But in the dark corner stood the ghost I saw with Shelly in the backyard, the one who seemed angry, a colored girl. She wore the same stained, old-fashioned yellow party dress. Shelly called her Armetta. Of course I never told Shelly I could see her ghosts. No. She’d use that fact against me. In that moment I remembered the woman in the church, the one who asked after Armetta. The spirit stood in the shadows looking at me as if this wasn’t the first time she had come to Daddy’s room. “There be a price to pay. A way to live and a way to die. What will you pick, girl?”

  I jerked awake, this time to my room flooded with late-afternoon sun. The dreams sat with me on the bed, too real. A sharp knock made me jump. Daddy pushed open the door. When I was younger, I used to wonder how many plain white dress shirts he owned. Probably a closetful. Each one crisp and clean.

  “Your uncle Lenard was here this morning. Did you see him?” His voice was soft but stern. When I didn’t respond, he ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. “He upset your mother. Don’t bother her.”

  “Was it him or you?” My words were quiet but sassy, almost hateful.

  “You don’t want to be punished, Faith.” His voice turned mean.

  “I am a woman, a grown woman. You can’t punish a grown woman.”

  His face turned hard. “You are my daughter. Is that understood? You will not disobey me. You obviously do not know what is good for you.”

  “You can’t keep me from being grown. Most girls my age are married.”

  “Really, Faith, is that what you’re looking for—a husband? Didn’t you learn your lesson with that boy? Don’t you understand what kind of girl you are? You can never marry.” His voice grew louder. “You are an abomination in the eyes of God. A sinner of the worst kind.”

  “Stop. I’m not,” I cried.

  He stepped closer. “You have sinned in more ways than one.”

  “Will is that boy’s name and you know it. I never did anything wrong and you know that too. I just wonder what Mama would say if she knew the story Will knew.”

  Daddy grabbed my arm, squeezing until his knuckles turned white. “You are a tramp, trash. You make me sick.” His face was bright red. “Your colored boy will walk with you the rest of the way to Hell. You’re just like him. You are the devil, the mark of the damned is on your soul.”

  I only stared at him.

  He shoved me so hard, my head bumped against the wall. “You’re a whore.” He spit on me and left the room.

  The pounding pressure began. I pulled open my drawer and took out the knife. The thump at my temples slowed. I sat on the bed and stared at the wall.

  Shelly barged through the door into my bedroom without knocking and stood stark still. Her gaze settled on the paring knife in my hands, so perfect for peeling the skin of an apple. I pressed my thighs together like a child trying to hide her worst deed. Shelly moved through the space separating us and took the knife right out of my fingers while all the time staring at me like I was some crazy person. I was. For a minute Shelly and I just looked at each other. I guess I could have explained how making the cuts helped me breathe better, took the pressure away, helped me from using the magic, but shame formed a knot in my throat.

  She studied me a minute more. “You got one mean spirit following you. Probably all stirred up from you stealing pictures off them stones at the cemetery. You crazy putting them on quilts. That’s just asking for a haint to smite you down. You’re one strange girl. I know what you really are. I’ve seen what the others haven’t. Something worse is going to happen if you don’t stop that mess.” Her words clipped the air like sharp shears used for cutting hair. “The spirit be a colored girl. She’s part of this here mountain, and that makes her a haint to worry afte
r.”

  I swallowed the crazy laugh building in my chest while the warm blood trickled down my thigh. “I don’t believe in ghosts, Shelly,” I said in my most hateful voice. “And really you don’t know anything about me.”

  “You go ahead and poke your old hatefulness at me. This spirit is mean. Don’t mess with mocking her. She’ll not have it. And I know all about you being a mountain witch. You can’t deny it. I been watching you.”

  Oh, how I wished I was a witch.

  “You ought to ask Nada to help you before you make a mess you can’t clean up alone.” She looked at the blood dripping on the small handmade rug.

  The warm moistness on my thigh kept me from ripping out her hair. “You’re crazy with all your magic and talk of ghosts.”

  “You ain’t the one to be calling nobody crazy, girl. You know it be a real spirit. I seen you looking at the one that saved us from the storm. You was right there and seen it all. I know you can see them. Your face tells the whole truth just like now. You know what you done to your legs is crazy. You know it.”

  I looked out the window. Those woods were haunted. I’d heard the cries myself on some nights.

  “You might be mean and spoiled but you ain’t never been a liar. I’ll tell Nada you’re coming tonight.”

  I thought of clawing out her eyes. “Will wouldn’t like how you’re acting right now.”

  She sucked in air. “Will ain’t here, and if he was, he sure wouldn’t like what you be doing one bit.” With all her mean ways, I still understood the truth floating between us. He would hate what I had become. “I be special. You remember that. I have the most special gift on this mountain as far as Nada believes. Go on and see her after supper.” And she was gone out the door.

  Sometimes I wondered just what she knew of Will leaving. She spoke out about everything but him. It was as if he died.

  AMANDA WAITED AT HER little wooden table. Shelly wasn’t anywhere to be seen. This fact helped me relax. Amanda crushed pieces of what looked like brick into red dust. “Sit, child.” Her voice was sweet enough, but I heard the sternness. She wasn’t putting up with excuses.

  The chair I sat in creaked with age.

  Amanda swished her finger in the dust. “You be too thin.” The heat bugs hummed outside. “Pastor’s real put out with his uppity ways and ran him off. Your mama had a nice long talk with him. I don’t know about what, but it couldn’t be good. Lenard Dobbins ain’t never been nothing but pure trouble, more so than your daddy. I promise you.” She looked at me. “Mrs. Dobbins said she didn’t believe you talked to your uncle. She’s comfortable with that. But me and you know that be a lie.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The words hurt my teeth.

  She nodded. “What you see in this here dust?” She fluttered her fingers at the tabletop. Amanda was pretty. Her face was soft and gentle, and her hair was relaxed in big curls. Most of the time she kept it tied in a bright-colored scarf.

  “A shadow shaped like Shelly’s ghost girl, the one from my dream. Armetta.” The words popped out of my mouth like someone else was speaking for me.

  Amanda nodded like I made perfect sense. She pushed some of the red dirt around so it made another design. “What now?”

  I shrugged and turned away. The pressure in my head threatened to begin.

  “Look hard, girl, or you be wasting my time.”

  Letters formed in the dust: “W-I-L-L.”

  Amanda sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t mess with me.”

  Anger bubbled up from way down deep inside, but I managed to shove it back. “Remember, Faith, you got to keep this a secret. You can never let on you know.” Will’s words rang in my head.

  “I didn’t come here for this. You asked me to tell you what I saw. I did. I see his name.”

  Amanda moved my skirt up my thigh. “Will ain’t got a thing to do with any of that.”

  Some of the cuts I made earlier in the day were trying to heal. The new one looked bad, deeper. “Why did you ask me if you didn’t want to know? I’m sorry you don’t like the answer. Next time I won’t even bother coming to see you.”

  “Never you mind now. Stay where you be. How Will got a thing to do with this? He’s been gone too long now.” Her voice sounded strained, like she was holding back.

  The truth was that Will was behind more than Amanda knew. He left me when I needed him most. I looked out the front door into the yard. “I don’t know anything about him leaving,” I lied. It was the untruths that ate at my soul.

  Amanda watched me close. “I guess. But I don’t like thinking on him. His very name hurts to the bone.” Her touch on my arm pleaded for a better answer. “I just need to know what happened that last day, Miss Faith. You don’t owe me a thing, but what happened to my boy?”

  She thought he was dead. Maybe he was; at least the Will that walked off our mountain died. Sweat broke out on the back of my neck, and my head began to pound. I promised. “I don’t know.” The silence in the room took me over.

  “How you don’t know, Miss Faith? How? You two was closer than any souls could be. Drove Pastor crazy. I seen that. I knew. I always warned Will to stay arm’s length of you, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  The words were stuck in my stomach, twisting and turning.

  “You know. I know you do.”

  The hum of the heat bugs grew louder. I swallowed the thick feeling down my throat. “I don’t know.” Each untruth tasted easier.

  She squeezed her rough fingers into my arm. “What happened? He wouldn’t just up and leave like he did. No good-byes. He was my boy. How can you tell me you don’t know? Now look at this mess.” She nodded at my scars. “Something happened that day. You’ve been like my own girl. Why won’t you tell me?” The pleas pulled at me. I loved Amanda. It would serve both her and Will right if I told her everything that happened that afternoon. Just screamed it at the top of my lungs. He wasn’t ever coming back to the mountain.

  The familiar knock began inside of my head. I had to concentrate and wait for the feeling to pass.

  Amanda released my arm. “You wasn’t nothing but fifteen. You can’t be blamed for anything that happened when he left. What drove him from me, Miss Faith?” She looked back at my scars. “Them things have a story to tell me. Each and every cut.” She covered the marks on my thighs with my skirt. “Something is driving you to this. Something you know.”

  She was right about that.

  Amanda picked up a bottle and sprinkled white powder over the dust on the table. With her eyes closed tightly, she moved her lips in what looked to be a silent prayer. She scooped the dust into a small sack with a drawstring. “Sprinkle this in front of your door and cover it with the small rug near your bed so it won’t be noticed.”

  I nodded.

  “As long as the dust is there, you be protected from your father. He can’t come through that door. You should have come to me earlier. I should have known you was in trouble. Your mama came here worrying over you. I should have known. He can’t hurt you if you do what I say.”

  My hand tingled and burned when I touched the pouch. I wanted to believe in its protection. I had to believe that Amanda’s magic was real.

  “You do what I say, and the bad can’t come. I’ve been good as that mama of yours to you. Rocked you in my lap alongside of Will. You crawled in my bed when you was sick. You tagged after me all day long. You remember all that? You know how much I love you.” She pointed to the drawstring sack. “This be my best conjure. It’s a strong spell. But what follows you might be bigger than any of my magic. Time will tell. The one condition on this spell working is you got to believe, girl. You can’t doubt.” She reached behind her and took a small brown jar off a low shelf. “Here, keep this salve on those places. They’ll heal without scars. No more of that mess. You hear?”

  A jagged line cut through my heart. I loved Amanda that much. I knew my cuts marked her. “Yes, ma’am.” I hung my head.

  “Now, it’s not shame I want to see on that
face of yours. You be the best girl I know besides my Shelly. You got to stop walking that graveyard. It’s not a safe place. All matters of haints looking at you. This whole mountain not be safe for you. Something is chasing your soul. Winter be here soon. Nobody has to run in the winter. If we can make it until then, my time with Mrs. Dobbins will be over. We got to manage until winter. Then we’ll see.”

  “Mama will always need you, Amanda.” But the truth was I needed to know Amanda would be right where I could find her.

  Amanda gave me a dark look. “Lord, your mama be the thorn in my side since the day I chose her.”

  “I heard Mama chose you.”

  Amanda laughed. “Don’t believe no stories that woman has told. I picked her, sent her a dream.”

  Those two had something. It wasn’t love, and it wasn’t hatred either. Something strange, still, and turbulent all in the same movement sat between them.

  Amanda touched my hand. “If Will comes to you, leave him be. He don’t need to be in this mess. Leave him. Understand?”

  “If he came to me, you’d know ’cause I’m not going anywhere. I wish I could.” I was stuck on the mountain. Shoot, I couldn’t even go to Asheville without a scene. “Will was smart enough to never come back.”

  “You’ll be right here for a while. Just a while, though.” She looked out the door like she could see something I couldn’t. “Go on, now. Get on to your house before it gets too dark.” Amanda sat at the table as if all the energy had drained out of her. She stared where the dust had been. “It’s going to be a hot, hot summer, I suspect.”

  WHEN I GOT BACK to my room, I found a note:

  Faith:

  That bottle tree in the yard is for the colored spirit that don’t like us. But it didn’t work. It ain’t going to work ’cause she’s way too smart. This colored girl is going to cause a bunch of trouble. Be careful.

  Shelly

  Part of me knew this was Shelly’s way of saying she halfway cared, but I wouldn’t have admitted that out loud.

  Mama and Daddy came to say good night just like always, like I was some little girl instead of a grown woman. Daddy stopped at the door like he had run into a wall. I held my breath. He made no move to come across the threshold. Mama didn’t even notice. She was blind just like Nana Tyson said in the dream. Behind Daddy stood Armetta.