by Wendy Wang
"That's a great idea," Charlie said. "Why don't you go help Uncle Jack?"
Evan gave her a do-I-have-to look, and she shut him down with the cut of her eyes and purse of her lips. He didn't argue and slunk away.
"Nice," Jen said. "You'll have to show me how you do that. My mom looks haven't been working on Ruby lately."
Charlie chuckled. "I've had almost seven years of extra practice. Plus, Evan knows I won't hesitate to take away something he really loves, like his phone or his tablet. Or both."
"Yeah, Ruby's a little tougher. She does not have any interest in electronics yet. Thankfully,” Jen said.
Charlie shrugged. "You gotta find something she loves and doesn't want to lose."
Jen and Charlie watched as Jack hauled the small child-sized table from his shed. Evan trailed behind him carrying the tiny rocker. Ruby finished out the line, dragging one of the chairs to the table with both hands.
"Sweet sunny Jim," Jen said and shook her head. "Here Ruby, let me help you with that." She rushed to her daughter's aid, picking the chair up out of the grass. Ruby skipped alongside her mother, joy written across her face. Jen placed the chair inside the playhouse next to the table, and Ruby sat down on it.
"Hi, Barbara Jean!" Ruby said.
A shadow crossed Charlie's face, and she poked her head in through the door. Jen's stomach flip-flopped. Her cousin's gaze searched every corner of the 12x12 interior. Jen's heart fluttered when she saw panic in the lines of Charlie's face.
"Uncle Jack?" Charlie took a step back.
"What's going on?" he asked approaching with the second chair to the table.
"There's a bat in the belfries as they say," Charlie pointed to the rafters. All the walls and ceiling had been painted white and the little brownish-black bat nestled high in the corner where the center beam met the wall. It was hard to miss.
"Well shit," Jack muttered.
Jen held her hand out, palm up. "A dollar for the swear jar."
Jack rolled his eyes at his daughter. He scowled and scratched his head. "Let me get a broom, and I'll kill it."
"No!" Jen and Charlie said at the same time.
"Are you trying to bring a curse down on us?" Jen said.
"That is the most ridiculous, superstitious bullshit I think I have ever heard you say Jennifer Elizabeth," Jack scolded. "They can carry disease."
"They also eat mosquitoes and other bugs. They're friends of the environment, Uncle Jack," Evan said. His blue eyes pleaded with him. "Please don't kill it."
Jack glanced at Charlie.
"What? He's right?" Charlie defended. "I bet we can get it out of here without any bloodshed. His or yours."
"And exactly how do you propose to do that?" Jack asked.
"Don't worry," Charlie said. "Just leave it to me and Evan." She smiled down at the boy, and a smile stretched across his handsome face.
"In the meantime, Ruby you're gonna have to take Barbara Jean into the house and play until we get the bat out," Jen said.
"You mean it?" Ruby said.
"I do," Jen said, motioning with her hands. "Come on, sweetie."
Ruby hopped up from the chair. "Come on Barbara Jean. I'll show you my room."
"So what now?" Jack asked.
"Let's just close it up. I need to do some prep work,” Charlie said.
"All right," Jack said. He shooed them all out and pulled the door shut. He folded the flap of the lock in place and snapped the padlock into the loop, then tugged on it for good measure. "You’ve got that key, right?"
Jen pulled it from her front pocket. "I do. I'll put it on a ring and hang it on the key hooks in the kitchen." Jack gave her a nod and headed back to the house.
"Have y'all eaten supper yet?" Jen asked.
"We were just talking about it when all this happened," Charlie said.
"Come on. Y'all can eat with us. I've got a chicken in the oven, and there's plenty," Jen said.
"What do you think, Evan?" Charlie said.
"I think Jen's chicken is far superior to that frozen pizza you mentioned," he quipped. Charlie's cheeks reddened, and she let out an embarrassed laugh.
"Evan!" Charlie said. "I can't believe you said that."
"I can," Jen smirked. "Come on. You can tell me what your big plan is for the bat."
"Jen, are you making those baby potatoes?" Evan asked.
"I am, Evan," Jen said. "I know you like them a lot."
"I do," he said, sounding astonished. "It's almost like you knew we were gonna eat with you."
"It is, isn't it?" Jen said giving her cousin Charlie a wink. "I guess when it comes to food, I'm the psychic in the family."
Charlie put her fork across her plate and wiped her mouth with a paper towel.
"As usual Jen, that was delicious," Charlie said.
"It was," Evan agreed. "Much better than frozen pizza."
"Hey," Charlie reached for her son's head and ruffled his blond hair. "It's better than cereal."
Evan laughed. "That's true."
Charlie let out a sigh and the weight of the week pressed her shoulders down. She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand.
Jack took a sip of iced tea and eyed his niece. "Everything okay, Charlie?"
Charlie forced a smile. She hadn't told anyone about the call center moving overseas. Not even Tom. Her gaze flitted to Evan and then to her uncle.
"Everything's right as rain," she said. "Just a little tired is all."
Evan pushed his plate forward and put his elbows on the table. "So Mom, what's your plan for the bat?"
"I took a quick peek online for how to rescue a bat, and evidently they can sense airflow. I'm thinking we should open the door and see if he'll make his way out on his own,” Charlie said.
"And if he doesn't?" Jack’s voice was full of doubt.
"Then we'll just cast a spell on it,” Charlie teased.
"You're hilarious," Jack said.
"That's not a half bad idea," Jen said. Her face lit up. "I wish we knew someone who could commune with animals."
"Evan can." The words flew out of Charlie's mouth without much thought. Evan made a shocked face.
"He can?" Jen and Ruby said at the same time.
"I can?" Evan said.
"I believe you can," Charlie said.
"Why?" Evan asked. He leaned forward, his body tense with curiosity.
"Because animals seem to flock to you," Charlie said. "Anywhere we go. Dogs, cats, even feral cats don't seem scared of you. And there was that time when you were about three that you fell in the river and a dolphin dragged you out of the water. You told me later that the dolphin was your friend and you cried for it to help you and it did."
"Mom, I was three." Evan made a funny face. "I was just a kid."
"Your still a kid, kid." Charlie grinned and placed her hand over his forearm.
"It's an actual thing, Ev," Jen said. "It's called zoolinguism and it's a cool ability to have."
"If I even have it," Evan rolled his eyes.
"I thought you wanted to be a witch," Charlie said.
Evan shrank back in his chair. His gaze flitted to his uncle. "I ... I do."
"Accepting your abilities is an important part of that process," Jen said.
"Jen's right," Jack's fork clanked against his plate, drawing everyone's attention to him. He picked up his paper towel and wiped his mouth. "That's part of growing up, witch or no witch."
"I think that's why Penny's so drawn to you," Charlie said.
Evan shivered. "Great."
"Penny?" Ruby asked. "My chicken, Penny?"
Charlie covered her mouth and glanced at Jen who held her head in her hands. She looked up Charlie with an expression between irritation and disappointment.
"Penny's dead,” Ruby said.
"Yes she is baby," Jen said, hopping to her feet. "Who wants pie? I'm testing a new recipe."
"What kind of pie?” Evan said, sitting up straight.
"Apple with a streusel topp
ing and a drizzle of rum caramel sauce."
"That sounds good," Evan and Charlie said at the same time.
"Okay, two pieces of pie coming right up," Jen said. "Daddy you want a piece?"
"Naw, sugar. I think I'm going to go open that door so that bat can get out once it figures out it doesn't belong there." Jack got up from the table, strode over to the key hooks hanging on the wall and disappeared out the back door.
"Mommy, can Barbara Jean and I be excused?" Ruby said.
"You don't want pie?" Jen asked.
"No, thank you," Ruby said.
"Then you may be excused. Put your plate in the sink, please, before you leave," Jen said.
"Yes ma'am," Ruby hopped to her feet and carried her plate to the sink. The fork and porcelain clattered against the porcelain, and she dashed out of the kitchen. A minute later, they could hear Ruby skipping along the hallway above their heads. For a second it sounded like two sets of feet, skipping just out of sync with each other.
"Mom?" Evan said.
"What?" Charlie asked.
"Jen asked if you wanted some ice cream," Evan said.
"Oh," Charlie shook her head. "Sorry. No, thank you. Is it warm?"
"Just the way you like it," Jen said and placed a slice of pie in front of her cousin. "You looked lost there for a minute. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's fine." Charlie picked up the dessert fork next to the small plate and sank the tines into the crumble topping. "So do you think it weirds out your dad when we talk so casually about being witches?" Charlie took a bite of the pie. The flavors of apple, cinnamon, ginger, and rum caramel flooded her mouth. "Oh my goddess Jen, this is so good."
Jen beamed and sat down at the kitchen table across from Charlie with a piece of pie in front of her.
"I'm glad you like it. It's going on the menu for the week of Samhain,” Jen said.
"It's perfect," Charlie said, taking another bite.
"Thank you, and no, I don't think it weirds him out. I think he would say if it did,” Jen said digging into her pie.
"Good, that's the last thing I'd want."
Jen gave her a smile. "I know honey."
Chapter 7
Jen usually slept like the dead. Only one thing could wake her. The sound of her daughter's voice in distress. She had been known to sleep through the worst storms, plane rides, sirens, trains. None could wake her.
When the sound of a little girl's laughter and small footsteps filtered into her consciousness at 1 a.m. Jen bolted upright in bed and stared at the door. Had she really heard that? Or was she dreaming? She cocked her head and listened harder. Her eyes adjusted to the inky blackness of the room. The laugh, small and high-pitched, skittered through her senses. That wasn't Ruby's laugh. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as she threw back the covers and put her feet onto the cold hardwood floor. Even with her short legs, she was across the room in a few seconds. She reached for the doorknob but stopped. Her hand hovered above the tarnished brass knob when it squeaked right and then left.
"Ruby?" she said. Finally, she put her hand on the doorknob and tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Ruby Ellen, this isn't funny." She ignored the blood rushing in her ears, reaching for any other emotion but fear. Fear meant that it won (whatever it was on the other side of the door). Where did that thought come from? She batted it away and hit on her anger. Righteous mom anger. "Ruby Ellen, you let go of this doorknob right this minute, young lady."
Jen took a deep breath and twisted the knob. The mechanism clicked, and she pulled the door open. She expected to see her child, staring up at her with wide, apologetic eyes, but instead, she was met with an empty hallway. Jen stepped into the cool corridor and looked one way then the other. Still empty. Her father's door at the opposite end of the hall was shut, as was Ruby's door across from his room. As stealthily as she could, Jen walked the ten feet between her bedroom and her daughter's. Her heartbeat had settled down to a loud thunk-thunk-thunk in her throat. When she got to the door, she turned the doorknob as quietly as she could and pushed the door open. Inside, Ruby was curled up under her covers with one arm wrapped around a raggedy teddy bear named Kirby. Her little chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. Jen let out a breath of relief. She had imagined (dreamed?) the whole thing. Jen closed the door and headed back to her room. It didn't take long for the heaviness of sleep to fill her arms and legs. It dragged her into the darkness where the tinkling sound of a little girl's laugh chased her through her dreams.
The flat thud echoed through Charlie's bedroom and her eyes flew open. She sat up and reached for the light. Her eyes searched the room for the source of the sound. Everything seemed where it should be. Nothing had fallen on the floor or been knocked over on her bedside table or dresser. She listened to the sounds of the rest of the house. It answered with the usual stillness of 1 a.m.
Penny, the ghostly chicken that haunted her cottage, was nowhere to be seen. She was probably roosting in Evan's room, which she often did when it was her week of custody. She had not been lying to Evan at dinner. She believed he really did have an ability to communicate with animals. Even the dead ones, like Penny. And the chicken seemed to know that. Maybe he would be the answer to helping the poor bird move on someday.
Charlie reached for the light. Another flat thud resounded through her room. Higher pitched. It reminded her of something hitting the glass. She got out of bed and pushed back the curtains and sheers covering the window next to her bed. She could only see a large black rectangle. Living out in the country made nights dark, and darker still when the moon wasn't full.
She clicked off the light next to her bed and waited for her eyes to adjust. There was just enough starlight to see the wide, green yard stretching to her uncle's house. The white clapboard siding had a faint glow that drew her attention. She let her gaze drift from the back porch to the parking pad, past her uncle's boat tucked beneath the carport, to the white playhouse. The dark rectangles of the windows looked like eyes. The door was wide open making it look like a yawning maw. The image of a monster filled her head for a second, and she shivered. Maybe they needed to cleanse the little playhouse, just to be on the safe side. Something small and black flew toward her window, catching Charlie's eye. She could just make out the wings of the bat before it drove itself against the window. Charlie gasped and stepped back at the same time. The bat struck the window with a thud. A painful screeching sound ushered from the poor little beast, and it dropped to the ground, leaving a streak of blood in front of Charlie’s eyes.
"What the –?" she said. Her voice sounded loud and out of place in the silence of the rest of the house. Bats could echolocate. There was absolutely no reason for one to hit a window. She had helped Evan build a bat house to put in his father's yard when he was seven, and they'd read a lot about them to get it right. Why on the goddesses green earth would one bash into her window? Had it been the reason she'd awakened?
She turned on the light again and dug her feet into the wool slippers she wore around the house. A moment later she dug through the top drawer of the dresser in her living room that acted as storage and a television stand.
She found the flashlight and pressed the button. The blue-white lights of the LEDs created a wide circle on the floor. She adjusted the width and grabbed a fleece jacket from the coat rack on the wall by the door before heading out into the darkness. A chill settled around her shoulders and she took a minute to put on her jacket then walked around the corner of the small house. Her bedroom light shone bright yellow-white, guiding her. She swept the round light across the ground below the window, unsure of what to expect. A small black circle of fur caught her eye. She moved closer to find a bat on the ground. It struggled to breathe for a few seconds and then stilled.
A sick feeling spread through Charlie's belly. She would get a shovel in the morning from her uncle's shed and bury the poor little thing in the woods.
"Mom?" Evan's voice behind her made her heart bounce ag
ainst her ribcage. "Everything okay?"
Charlie pressed one hand to her chest. "You scared me."
"Sorry," he said. "I heard a noise and saw the light."
"I'm sorry I woke you," she said. Evan moved closer.
"What is that?" He pointed to the black furry mound.
"It's a bat. It ... well, it evidently hit my window a couple of times," she said.
"Is it okay?" Real concern filled his voice, and he took a step toward it. Charlie stopped him from getting too close though.
"No, sweetie, it's dead."
"Bats use echolocation. It shouldn't hit anything it doesn't want to."
"That thought had occurred to me," she said. Evan's gaze shifted to the playhouse. "Do you think it's the same bat that was trapped?"
"I don't know. It seems highly unlikely, but I guess anything's possible," she said.
"Maybe it was sick," Evan said.
"Maybe so," she said. "We should get you back to bed. You've got school tomorrow."
"What will happen to it?" Evan asked.
"The bat? I'll bury it tomorrow, or maybe ask Uncle Jack to," she said.
"I think it was the bat from the playhouse, Mom," Evan said.
"What makes you think that?" she asked.
"I don't know, just a feeling," he said. "And I don't think it was sick."
"Why?" Charlie said.
"I don't know. I just don't," he said. "I have this weird feeling that it didn't really want to hit your window."
"I don't understand what you mean, honey," Charlie said.
"It's just a weird image in my head. It's probably nothing," he said shrinking back from her questions.
"Tell me what you see." Charlie stepped closer and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. You're not weird."
Evan sighed and nodded. He closed his eyes as if to call up the image again. "It's like something took the bat and threw it at the window."
"Some thing? Or someone?" Charlie asked.
Evan paused a beat. The line between his brows grew deep and dark. "Someone."
