by D. R. Perry
My mouth moved, reciting three times the prayers of forgiveness I knew by heart.
When the services were over, we headed home. Usually, we’d be quiet and contemplative like this each year. We all had tons to reflect on, although that was the first time I was fully aware of how hard it must have been for Mom. She never once complained about not getting to see her relatives.
Clearly, her brother Richard was a seriously bad egg, but what about her parents? She must have missed them, even if she was estranged from them, like Dylan missed his. Maybe she felt more like Grace—a stranger to typical family dynamics.
This time of year, we did an awful lot of reflecting, especially when it came to stuff like my horrible extramagus secret. I was torn because the right thing to do wasn't clear here. If my life were a video game, both of my choices were Nightmare Mode.
Don’t tell Mom my secret. She was still stuck without half her family, wondering whether they were well or even alive, except for Richard, whose fate was being decided on national news. And she got to wonder whether either of her children would grow up to be like her brother.
Tell Mom my secret. She’d still be stuck like now, but in that scenario, she’d know it was me she had to worry about. I'd turn evil someday and end up in prison or worse.
Both of those sucked.
"What was that, Bissel?" Bubbe sat in the middle of the back seat between Noah and me.
"Just my inside voice escaping again." I sighed.
"Well, at least this is the day for it." She reached out, taking my hand.
"I'll do all that when we get home."
But it took longer than that. Hours, in fact.
Later that night, despite being ready for bed, I couldn't sleep. So I got up, leaving Ember asleep at the foot of the bed. Last year I would have paced my room, but that was impossible now unless I wanted to give myself a concussion and spend the rest of the holiday at Salem Hospital, so I headed downstairs.
The television was on, so I walked into the living room where Mom sat up alone. She wasn’t really looking at the screen, just staring out the window, so I took a seat beside her and tucked my feet up under my legs.
"I hope you're getting enough sleep at school," she said.
"Yeah. The day usually wipes me out."
There was a pause, not just between us but from the TV, too. We both decided that was a good time to talk.
"I'm sorry—"
"Mom, I—"
I blinked, but she chuckled.
"Who should go first?" she asked.
"You, I guess, Mom."
"Aliyah, I'm sorry." She sighed. "I should have mentioned Richard sooner. Well, maybe not just him, but also where I came from. The family who raised me and why I left them behind when I made my own family here. Half of you is me, and half of me is them. Raising you and Noah halfway like that wasn't the right thing to do."
"Why, then?"
"I thought it would protect you. Not physically, but your hearts. I saw how afraid of everything your brother was, and how you have such a hard time loving yourself, and I didn't want to make it worse. You're both so strong when you forget all that and just act, and now I bet nobody on that campus is letting you forget that you're both Hopewells."
The silence struck like a Tallin Serpent guarding a nest. It hadn't hit me until just now that Noah got his own share of grief over Richard, even though I was the one who resembled him. Maybe he wasn’t ignoring me because he hated me now. Maybe he was scared, even if I’d never thought of my big brother that way before.
Older siblings had a sort of armor. Izzy's one, plus she has one, and she’d told me this before. The younger kids think the older ones are like Superman, impervious to almost everything, and with extra abilities to boot.
After all this time, it turned out he wasn’t. I should have listened to my best friend. I'd have to go apologize to her tomorrow…but I’d left my mother hanging.
"Mom, I forgive you." I opened my arms, and the hug she gave me was warm and welcoming if a little tear-stained. "I love you."
"I love you, too." After we let go, she pulled a tissue from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. "Okay. It's your turn, Aliyah."
I still didn't know what to say. The choices in front of me were the Lady and the Tiger, but for me, there was a door number three.
"I made a ton of assumptions about all this for the whole month." I waved my hand at nothing, but her face told me she understood. "The why and the how about the Hopewells, and I know you must have worried all that time. Wondering whether I was mad, whether I was really busy every weekend or just avoiding you. But Mom, I'm sorry. I did avoid talking to you about it, how some of the kids at school pick on me because of my uncle. And I'm sorry."
"I forgive you. But you've talked to someone about it? It's important to take care of your health in all ways."
"Yeah, I talked to my friends. And Bubbe, a little."
"Aliyah, I'm proud of you."
I sat back, not daring to speak. Right now, all the words wanted to come out—the ones I shouldn't say until I was sure she was ready to hear them. The truth.
All my focus was on keeping my hands from glowing, and it was a miracle because it worked.
We thanked each other and then Mom said goodnight, heading upstairs to bed.
It was empty down there, so I sat for a while, not really looking at the Buffy reruns Mom had been watching. I thought I was all alone because Bubbe couldn't possibly have been down in her office at this time of night, so I scooted over, cozying up to the box of tissues and just let the tears come.
It was a knock-down-drag-out ugly cry.
That was what I got for holding back tears for a month and change. A deluge. A flood. The microbes living on my face should have gotten into an ark, two by two. Biblical floods of tears felt extra, even on this high holy day.
"Bissel?"
It was Bubbe. Of course, she was downstairs in her office instead of up in her bedroom. She crossed the living room like a ship on storm-tossed waters pulling into the shore. Her hand rubbed my back, a comfort sorely missed.
"Oh, Bubbe. I'm so tired of it all."
She said nothing, just pulled me into a hug. It never mattered to my grandmother why or how I got in a state like this. She just didn't want me going through it alone. She treated my brother the same way, which was why her next words didn’t surprise me.
"Noah's tired of it too." She kept rubbing my back. "That was why I told him to talk to you already."
"You noticed?" I pulled back to see her face.
"That you two weren't speaking? Yes. And he wants to apologize if you give him the chance, although he knows that's not guaranteed."
"I'll listen, Bubbe."
"Good. I'll have water for the two of you downstairs tomorrow morning. Seven-thirty." She studied my face. "Now, go have a wash and get some sleep. You need rest while fasting, after all."
"So do you." I made use of some tissues. "But you were down there all this time, helping the animals."
"Right, because it's our responsibility to care for them. And each other. Remember, a meaningful life is within our reach, if only we—"
"Choose to care," I finished the sentence with her. It wasn’t just a thing she said, but a core belief we have as faithful Jews, even if we were pretty secular. Trying to make the world better by caring was our duty.
We hugged once more before saying goodnight. As I headed upstairs, my steps were lighter.
Maybe I wasn’t as far off course as I thought.
At the table downstairs, we sat together over water. Bubbe bustled in the hall nearby, feeding and watering the handful of critters in her care. For once, Noah, the king of extra, kept it simple.
"Truce?" he asked.
"I want to be your friend again, Noah. I can't stop caring."
"We can't act friendly at school." He sighed. "Not beyond nods and waves. Too dangerous. You’ve seen what Charity does to her enemies, and if she thinks I switched sides, she’ll torment us both wors
e than she does to you now."
"Yeah, I know. And you gave danger a hard pass before I was born."
"Mood. Anyway, do you accept?"
"For now, but I'm going to try repairing our relationship as well if it's all the same to you."
"Whatever. But I can't afford to play in your little Mean People Suck sandbox, Aliyah."
"I understand. But who knows? Maybe things will change, and so will your mind. At any rate, I didn’t mean to scare you. Fire bad, girl sorry."
"And I'm sorry for pretending you don't exist."
"See? That wasn't so hard."
"Peep."
"Ssss."
"Two out of two familiars agree." I dropped him a wink. The grin he gave back was barely there, but I'd take it.
Back at temple that afternoon, we attended more services. After last night, I felt like I should stay for Yizkor, the memorial part of Yom Kippur services. Noah and I used to stay out with the other kids our age and younger. There was a superstition that attending while your parents were alive was inviting trouble, but I wanted to remember my grandfather. There had to be a reason he had come so strongly to mind during the opening service yesterday, and honoring that felt right.
The Cantor sang some prayers and the Rabbi read, but the heft of the service came during silent prayer, read to ourselves from books. Standing, we recited Ancestor of Mercies, and Yizkor was almost over. Just one part remained.
Tzedakah, which is an act of charity. I must have somehow known I'd do this part of the service, because I actually had a few dollars to put in the box.
After that, the final sprint toward the end of the holiday began. Neilah, the closing of the gates. Noah and the other young folks came back in as the ending started. This was our last chance to atone for the previous year.
The ark, where the Torah scrolls stayed most of the time, was closed as everyone recited.
"Seal us in the Book of Life."
Now we literally had minutes to affirm our faith, praise God's name, and deny idolatry of any over Him. We did it together as a family within the congregation.
When the Rabbi blew the Shofar horn, it was over.
But it was also the beginning of a new year, one in which I'd vowed to do better. And as we left the temple to break our fast at home, I silently prayed that I was up to the challenge.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Overall, my prayers were answered. Or maybe I answered them myself. Either way, it wasn’t easy. Serious effort was involved, energy spent on hiding my solar magic and keeping my temper at bay. Choosing kindness over retribution didn't come easily for me anyplace but inside my head.
I wasn’t doing it alone, and all through the rest of October, I was grateful for my friends and for Ember. The campus would have been a pile of ashes if it weren't for them, so I made it a point to thank them, even for the small stuff.
Halfway through the month, Headmaster Hawkins announced that we'd have an all-day outing into Salem on Halloween. That meant my friends and all the other students got to see and participate in the parades, concerts, and general festive atmosphere I had experienced every year in town.
Everyone was excited, even the teachers. They decorated their classrooms, including the gym and the library. Grace came running into our room one night, saying that Professor DeBeer gave her permission to work in Creatives for extra time to make her costume. Her excitement was almost palpable and I joined her, kicking off over a week of early mornings and late nights spent working with textiles and sewing machines.
Dylan was there too, even though he said his wardrobe idea was easy. Mostly, I thought he liked the excuse to spend extra time with Grace. We also worked on the costumes during Creatives period each day, drawing no small amount of attention from our classmates. Even though Hal and Faith had ordered their outfits, they looked on with us. Alex and his clique checked on our progress at least twice a day.
Sewing was a pretty obscure skill here at good old Hawthorn Academy. I learned loads about it from Grace, who was a master. She could have been a cosplayer, while I walked into it with the basic skill of how to reattach a button. Good thing my idea was relatively simple.
I wasn’t sure why I was so excited about wearing another mask. Maybe because the holiday was all about disguise, or because I wouldn't be the only person wearing one for the day. Pick whichever you’d like and run with it, I guess.
Once again, I caught Luciano and DeBeer arguing heatedly, except this time, it wasn’t about lab safety or course materials. It was far more festive than that.
"I don't care what you say, Lucy. They're talented for sure, but I just can't stand the way they conduct themselves in interviews."
"They've got heart, and one of the most important causes in the post-Reveal world, Miss Susie. And don't call me Lucy, it's Luciano. Professor, if you're being horrible."
"Are you sure we're talking about the same band?" She snorted. "And I'll call you what I like. What are you gonna do about it anyway, cry?"
I trotted off, increasing my speed to catch up with Logan. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear more. Disagreements about music were all fine and well, but our teachers were getting too personal, and I didn't want to witness any weird fallout. I was still curious whether there was some deeper reason why they were constantly at odds, though.
In the last four days leading up to Halloween, Penelope put treats in our dinner bags. On Monday, we sat in the lounge, grinning at the jack o' lantern-shaped cookies adorned with orange and black frosting.
"Oh, ho ho, I'm Santa Pumpkin, coming to bring candy corns down your chimney on Halloween Night!" Hal held his cookie in front of his mouth and nose.
"Eeeek!" Faith leaned back with her hands on her cheeks. "No! Anything but the worst candy ever!"
Everybody laughed, even Darren, who had come by to chat for once.
"I hear you have quite the craft project going on," he said.
"Me? No, I'm just making a mask." I jerked my thumb at the corner, where my roommate sat with headphones on, hunched over some stubborn homework. "It’s Grace who’s doing big things with fabric."
"Well, regardless, we're all waiting to see how it all looks in a few nights." He smiled, waving as he left. "Happy studying!"
On Tuesday, Penelope gave us cups of chocolate pudding with gummy worms inside. I knew from peeking into the cafeteria while passing that these weren't the usual fare, so I decided to ask Dylan what he knew about the special treats.
"Oh, those are from the café." He grinned. "They're test batches, really. The rest of the school won't get to try these until lunchtime on Thursday."
"Wow."
"Do you know there's a rumor that Penelope is dating the new vampire chef?" Faith studied her nails as she perched on the arm of the cushy chair her boyfriend sat in. "Scandalous, they say."
"No." Hal shook his head, but he reached out, and Faith took his hand. "Well, it shouldn't be, not in a perfect world."
"World's flawed. Sucks to be Gaia." Grace shrugged. "But what else is new?"
"Hey, but aren't we trying to do our best here?" Logan waved his hand at the lot of us, but he looked right at me. "Make it even just a little better?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "And this whole campus plus the entire town outside it has an enormous party coming up. More chances to shake all the haters off."
"Please don't tell me you're planning some sort of Taylor Swift flash mob, Aliyah." Faith closed her eyes, leaning against the back of Hal's comfy chair-and-a-half.
"Definitely not." I chuckled, glancing at Logan. "I can't dance that way."
Wednesday, the dessert in the bag was a cupcake. You might guess the decoration because Logan's reaction was to yeet it across the room.
Yup. It looked like a tarantula.
It was inside a clear plastic clamshell case, though, so it was still good. Doris trotted over to retrieve it, the package crackling in her teeth as she carried it back. When she dropped it at Logan's feet, she curled her tail around her haunches
and purred.
"Yeah, okay, Doris. You're a good girl, but I still think someone else should pick that up?" Logan shuddered. "I've got a bad case of arachnophobia."
"Here, let me help with that." I took the cupcake from Doris, then opened the package. Using the knife that came with our dinner bags, I cut the legs off the sides and the mandibles off the front. After that, I grabbed a handful of trick-or-treat-sized Twizzlers from my bag, the kind you peel. Once I arranged them on the spider's legless body, the dessert had a completely different look.
"Ta-da!" I held it out for Logan's inspection, but he still had one hand over his eyes. "It's harmless, I promise."
"A ladybug?"
"Uh-huh." I grinned. "Definitely not a spider pretending to be something else."
"Aliyah Morgenstern, I could kiss you."
Our friends went so silent you could have heard a pin drop. As far as I knew, everyone else had gone there except us, but I think for Logan and me, things were different, even though we’d had plenty of perfect moments for that since Parents’ Night.
I liked Logan. He might have been frighteningly pretty and somewhat awkward, but he was also sweet and kind. I had no idea what his motives were. Maybe that was the problem.
I wasn’t sure if he was serious. It was impossible to tell whether he was into me or not lately. The dynamic that reminded me of Azreal Ambersmith had vanished since the dance. I should be as certain as possible before I said or did anything definitive.
My concerns weren't entirely emotional. They were practical, too. Heightened emotions plus new situations might equal solar magic surprise. Also, Logan's discomfort was plain to see on his face.
"Uh, we gotta talk about this later," I managed.
Conversation picked up again, the usual banter that almost had its own personality in our group. But it was a little too loud and slightly strained, as though it were a clock somebody had wound too tight.
After dinner, we went our separate ways, and Logan didn't follow me. I couldn’t blame him, but maybe we'd get a moment the next day. We all got a half-day and left campus after lunch. I knew Salem proper like the back of my hand. If anyone could find a secluded corner, even on the busiest night in town, it was me.
