by Wendy Wang
"You know Charlie's not right all the time," Jason said.
"I know that," Lisa said. "Whether you realize it or not, it's the thing she fears the most. She's gotten better at trusting herself, but there are still moments where she doubts."
"Yeah well, she seemed pretty sure of herself the last time we worked together." Aggravation made his voice sound like it had been raked across gravel.
"That's because she was right," Lisa said. "You still can't admit it. But she was right. And I'm alive because of it."
Jason rolled his eyes and took a step back. "You looking for a fight?"
"Not today," she said. She pointed to the spread of cards. "This is more important."
"What about your aunt? She's ... intuitive, right?" Jason said.
"You are so stubborn," she said.
"Yeah, I know," he said. "I come by it honestly if that's any consolation."
"It's not,” she shot back. "I guess I'll see if Daphne's busy."
"I appreciate that," Jason said. "Do you think she can help?"
"Sure, as long as she doesn't have some client with a hair emergency," Lisa said.
"A hair emergency?" Jason gave her a quizzical look.
"Never mind. I'll go by and see her," Lisa said.
Chapter 12
"This whole damn house smells like pot," Jack Holloway grumbled his way into the kitchen.
"It's not pot, Daddy. It’s sage," Jen said. "And how do you know what pot smells like?"
"I just do," he said. "So what is the sage supposed to do?"
"It's supposed to dispel negative energy," Jen said, purposefully leaving it vague. There was no reason for her father to know they had a ghost problem.
"Well it's not dispelling my negative energy," Jack said. "The stink of it is giving me a headache."
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Jen said. "I can mix you up something, a tea that will help."
"No thanks," Jack said. He opened the cabinet next to the sink and pulled out a big yellow bottle with a brown cap. "I'll just take a couple of aspirin." He unscrewed the top and shook two pills into his palm.
Jen took a clean glass out of the drainer and filled it halfway with water before handing it to him. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the counter watching him take his pills, wondering how he would take it if she told him the real reason the house smelled like sage.
"So, I guess Ben went home? I thought you would've stayed over at his place tonight." Jack rinsed the glass and put it back into the drainer.
"Not tonight," Jen said. Not until I feel my child and you are safe she added silently.
"By any chance have you seen my reading glasses?" Jack asked.
"No," Jen said. "Where did you have them last?"
"I usually keep them with me in my pocket." His hand patted the breast pocket of his golf shirt where he kept a pocket glasses case. It flattened beneath the weight of his hand. "I was reading in my office earlier. That's the last time I saw them."
"Did you ask Ruby if she'd seen them?" Jen asked.
"Why would Ruby take my glasses?" Jack asked.
"I'm not saying she did. Did you kiss her goodnight? Maybe they fell out in her bed?" Jen suggested.
“Yeah, I did,” Jack said.
"I'll go check her room just in case."
"Thank you, darling," Jack said. "I'm gonna watch a little TV."
"All right." Jen picked up a dishtowel folded it and slipped it over the oven door handle then headed upstairs.
Jen held her breath and turned the knob to her daughter's bedroom. The latch mechanism drew back, and she pushed the door, opening it just wide enough for her to slip inside.
Ruby was stretched out on the twin bed that Jen had slept in as a girl. The quilt and blanket bunched between the footboard and Ruby's feet. A well-loved and a little worse for wear teddy bear stared at Jen from the crook of Ruby's arm. The light from the hall was not quite enough to help her search properly.
On the bureau sat a projector lamp that up until recently, Ruby had used as a nightlight. Jen pressed the button on the side, and the solar system appeared on the ceiling. She couldn't help but smile at the stars and planets slowly rotating around the center sun. Ruby's slow, measured breathing filled the empty spaces of the room and Jen began to search for her father's glasses, taking care to be as quiet as possible. Jen gently combed over the bed then pilfered through the stacks of books and toys on the nightstand next to the bed. Inside the little painted drawer she found all of Ruby's markers neatly arranged with the caps pointing in the same direction. She lowered herself to her knees and got down on the floor running her hands around each of the stuffed animals standing guard next to the space underneath the bed. Ruby had once told her that nothing could come from underneath the bed to get her in the middle of the night as long as she put her stuffed animals in a row like this.
"They're your sentinels," Jen had said.
"Sentinels." Ruby had smiled a strange, happy smile.
Jen lowered herself to her elbows and peered under the bed. A thick layer of dust made her groan, but there were no glasses. Just a lone dust bunny. She and her father would have to have a talk about what dusting actually meant since he agreed it would be part of his job at maintaining the house.
Jen sat back on her heels and patted the top of the head of the nearest stuffed animal.
"Good job," she whispered.
A chill brushed across the skin of her exposed neck. Jen shivered. Another sound competed against the sweet steadiness of Ruby's breathing. A sound that made Jen's stomach feel like an icy rock in her gut. Rustling fabric. The sound she always associated with her mother and the cotton dresses she often wore. It was the starch that made them rustle her mother had once told her. Jen slowly turned her head, ignoring the thud of her heartbeat in her throat. Nothing. There was nothing behind her. Stupid of her to get so panicked over nothing. She let out a little nervous laugh and turned her head back to continue her quest. The site of the woman's bare feet in front of her made her breath choke in her throat. Her gaze slowly lifted, past the skirt with the rustling petticoat beneath it to the tiny waist, belted and perfect before finally landing on her face, which must have been stunning in its time. The pale translucent skin of her arms and face had a glow, and she almost blended in with the planets and stars. The only thing marring this apparition was the blood from the long open wounds of her inner forearms. It dripped from her fingers landing on the hardwood floor in quiet taps.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It splattered onto the trunk and feet of Mellow Yellow, the elephant sentinel, guarding against the monsters beneath her daughter's bed. Her body wouldn't move. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing would come out.
Is this what Charlie sees? She had no idea what to do. Charlie always seemed to talk to them. But her mouth wouldn't cooperate.
The spirit stared down at her. Her dark eyes pleading. Her chin quivered as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. It was as if her lips were glued together.
Jen swallowed hard, afraid to blink.
"Mama?" Ruby's voice sounded groggy. Jen let out a little scream and fell backward hard on to her butt and elbows. A sharp, hot pain radiated along her forearm. The light clicked on, driving back the darkness. Ruby sat up scrubbing her face. "What are you doing down there?"
Jen glanced around trying to look everywhere at once. Where had she gone? Was she even real?
"Come on, baby," Jen said her senses finally clearing. "I think you should sleep with me tonight."
"Why?" Ruby said.
"Because I'm lonely, that's why. Why don’t you come, keep me company?" Jen said. She got to her feet and stared down where the blood had pooled in front of Mellow Yellow. Except now it was just a hardwood floor. A little old. A little scratched. A little dusty. But there were no signs of blood or anything bad. "Come on honey." Jen leaned over and picked up Ruby without asking her again.
"All right," Charlie said. She squeezed Jen's hand and t
ried to convey a sense of calm to her shaken cousin. "You think you saw a ghost."
"I don't think anything. I know. I saw a ghost,” Jen said. Jen's eyes cut to the recliner across the room where her father sat holding a sleeping Ruby.
"Have you ever seen a ghost before?" Ben stopped his pacing and stared down at his girlfriend. It surprised Charlie that he was as rattled as Jen. Ben had never struck her as the type. He usually handled things with cool logic and a little arrogance. If that didn't work, then he used intimidation and witchcraft. She’d hated him the first time she met him, but he'd grown on her since then.
"No," Jen said. She squeezed Charlie's hand tighter. "I haven't. I don't see ghosts. That's Charlie's thing."
"Technically, all witches can see ghosts. I mean we have the wiring, so to speak, to do so,” Ben said.
"Great," Jen said. "That's just flipping great."
"And she didn't say anything?" Charlie said.
"No, she just stared at me. It was the saddest and most horrible thing I think I've ever experienced."
"Tell me about her dress again," Charlie said. "Please,” she added to soften her less than easy tone.
"It rustled.” Jen squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to remember. "She had on petticoats, and it was like her skirt was caught in a perpetual state of rustling."
“Petticoats? Really?” Charlie said.
Jen dropped her head against the back of the couch and put the heels of her hands over her eyes. “Yes.”
Charlie reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She tapped on the Pinterest app and brought up one of the boards. Ever since her dream, she'd been unable to stop thinking about Edwina and how Augusta had dressed her so meticulously. It was Tom who suggested she search Pinterest, which surprised her. She’d had no idea he even knew what Pinterest was, much less how to use it. Maybe that's why she liked him so much. They actually had a good time searching for dresses from the 1950s that fit the style Edwina had worn in her dream.
"Did it look like any of these?" Charlie handed the phone to Jen.
Jen scrolled through the board. The color drained from her face and she handed the phone back to Charlie. "This one."
"That’s a day dress,” Charlie said. “Was it blue?”
“Maybe.” Jen let her hands fall from her face to her lap and she stared at the ceiling. “It was hard to tell because she was sort of see-through.
"Can I see?" Ben asked and held out his hand. Charlie handed him the phone. A somber expression spread across the lines of his face. "How old do you think she was?"
"I don't know. It was hard to tell. I was terrified. I mean if I had to guess, I'd say she's probably in her late 20s maybe early 30s,” she said.
"Do you have any permanent markers?" Ben asked.
"What?” Jen and Charlie said at the same time. They both shifted their gaze to look at him.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Why?” Jen asked.
“Because I’m tired of playing around. It makes me mad that this spirit got into this house. Especially with all the protections in place. It’s time to pull out the big magic. A boundary that neither she nor the girl can break,” Ben said. “Charlie, will you help me?”
“Of course,” Charlie said, getting to her feet. “What do we need to do?”
“We need to cast the mother of all protection spells,” Ben said.
“Great,” Charlie said. “Let’s do it.”
Charlie held two sharpies in her hands. Jen had pilfered them from her morning journaling supplies and given them to Charlie with a worried frown on her face. Charlie had tried to reassure her with a smile, but it didn’t work.
She followed Ben up the staircase to the second floor. He looked as tense as she felt. It was one thing to put herself in danger, but something altogether different when it came to her family. She had brought this on them. Because of her blindness. And her underestimation of the strength of the spirits attachment to the Playhouse and the furniture that came with it.
"Stop it," Ben said. He stopped at the top of the landing and turned around to face her. "This isn't your fault."
"I didn't say anything," Charlie said.
"You didn't have to, Charlie," Ben said. "I’m just as much of an empath as you. Your guilt is choking me. Stop it. There will be spirits you're not gonna be able to detect. It’s just the way the world works."
"Sounds like something my grandmother would say," Charlie said.
"Your grandmother was a wise woman," Ben said.
Charlie reached the top step. "Fine," she said. "I just don't want anything to happen to them. It would kill me."
Ben lowered his voice and nodded. "I know. It would kill me too. Is Evan with his dad?"
"Yeah. It Scott's week." Charlie said.
"Good," Ben said. "You ready to do this?"
"Sure. Just show me what I need to do," Charlie said.
Ben opened the bag he carried and pulled out a small leather binder wrapped with a leather cord to keep it together. He opened it to reveal several small notebooks tucked inside. Each had an elaborate sigil on the front that she’d never seen before.
"What language is that?" Charlie asked.
"The sigils? Different languages. Druidic, Enochian, Latin," he said.
"Do you speak all these languages?" Charlie asked.
"These are all dead languages," Ben said. "Nobody really speaks them anymore, except for maybe the Pope and witches in the case of Latin."
"Some witches on the local witches’ council that do all their spells in Latin," Charlie said. "I personally took Spanish in high school."
"You're not missing much," Ben said. "You don't need Latin to write a spell. Sometimes the sigils from some of the earlier languages are more powerful." He thumbed through one of the small books until he found what he was looking for. "Like this." He held up the book with the pages splayed so she could see the incomprehensible design called a sigil Ben was talking about.
"It looks like a fancy pitchfork," Charlie said.
"When I combine it with a couple of other sigils it becomes an ironclad protection spell. We just have to say an incantation after we draw them, to activate them."
"And we're gonna do this with permanent markers?" Charlie didn't mask her skepticism. "Seems like it would need blood or something."
"I'm not a big fan of blood magic." Ben said. "There's too much that can go wrong. Most spells that require blood have a chance of coming back and biting you in the ass. Some magic has too high of a price for me."
"Sure," Charlie said. "That makes sense. It's just permanent marker. You know, it doesn't come off."
"Once we activate the spell, the markings will actually disappear. You won't even see them. And I don't know anything that can break them," Ben said.
"So what is the plan exactly?" Charlie said.
"You and I are gonna write the sigils on the windows in the four corners of the house. And for a little extra protection I'll write this sigil on Ruby's door," he said, flipping a couple of pages forward.
"Can we do this to my cottage too?" Charlie asked.
"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way," Ben said. "Then tomorrow, you and I are gonna go dig up every single ward that Jen has put around the property and replace them."
"Great," Charlie said not feeling very enthused about having to dig.
"Come on let's get started. We'll begin with Ruby's room." Ben headed toward Ruby's corner bedroom.
"Wouldn't it be better if we split up?" Charlie said.
"It will be more powerful if we say the incantation together. You don’t happen to have your wand with you do you?" Ben asked.
"No, it's in my cottage. Do I need it?" Charlie asked.
"No," Ben said. "Not really. Unless you feel you need it to focus your magic."
"I think I'll be okay just using my hands," Charlie said.
"Perfect," Ben said. "Now come on."
Charlie scanned the room for any sign of the spirit Jen had described. She detected
no strangeness to the energy of the room. No flickers. No cold spots. No shadows. Just a little girls room. Full of sweetness and toys.
"You know I always hated dolls," Ben said. He stood in front of the bookcase between two tall windows that overlooked the backyard. Several collectible dolls were propped up in metal stands on the top shelf. Their glass eyes stared at Ruby's bed. Charlie suppressed a chuckle, walked over to the shelf and turned each doll to face the wall.
"Better?" Charlie asked.
"Better," Ben said.
"I'll take this window, and you can take that window, okay?" Charlie said, pointing to the window to the left of the bookcase.
"Fine," Ben said. He handed her the notebook, holding the place for the first sigil with his thumb. "You can take this. I know them by heart."
"Really? You've written these that often?" Charlie asked.
"Yep," Ben said. "I do this for every single place I lay my head. I should've done this months ago for Jen."
"There wouldn't have been any point. She wouldn't have let you," Charlie said.
"Yeah, I know," Ben said.
Charlie took the book and stood in front of the window. She craned her neck and watched Ben write the three sigils vertically, first on the top pane of glass, and then he repeated them horizontally on the bottom pane. Charlie glanced at the page in the book with the first sigil, then flipped to the other two pages to copy the other sigils. She mimicked Ben's pattern on the two panes of glass then took a step back to compare her work with Ben's. They matched. Charlie handed the book back to Ben.
"What's next?" She asked.
"Let's do the other corners of the house and then we'll activate them all at the same time," Ben said.
"Sounds good," Charlie said.
“Do you feel comfortable writing these now?” he asked.
“I do,” she said.
“Good. I’ll take Jack’s room,” he said.
Charlie nodded and headed down the hall past Jen's door and the bathroom to Lisa's old bedroom. This was the room Charlie sometimes stayed in. A yellow and white quilt covered the mattress of the antique oak-paneled bed. A tall oak bureau was flanked by two windows that faced the bed. Charlie went to work in earnest, writing the sigils on the glass panes before she moved on to the bedroom across the wide, second floor landing.
