When Witches Wake

by Hilary Foxhill

  “Confused and really uncomfortable, perfect!” Claire said. She looked down at her sweatpants and played with a loose thread, twirling it around her finger and pulling it tight until her finger turned red. Jeremy shot her an annoyed look.

  “So are you going to see her again?” Olivia asked, attempting to break the tension between the two of them.

  “I hope so. I gave her my number. It isn’t often I get the kind of vibe I got from her today. So yeah, I hope she gets in touch with me.”

  “Sounds promising,” Tanner said. “Shall we get started?”

  “Impatient, are we?” Allison asked.

  “No it’s all good,” Jeremy said. “Claire did you have anything to add before we start?”

  “I’m good,” she said. She didn’t look up from her finger.

  “Alright then,” Jeremy said slowly. “Let’s do this.” He crossed the room and pulled the living room curtain closed. The hooks made a sharp metal sound as they slid across the curtain rod. Tanner got up and closed the curtains on the opposite window. Claire stood up from the couch and walked to a large chest in the hallway. She traced her finger down her necklace, and pulled a key out from underneath her shirt. She unlocked the chest and began carrying items to the small table in the dining room. Olivia helped her. Allison stood up and started removing her clothes.

  “Dude we aren’t ready yet,” Jeremy laughed at Allison. “I thought Tanner was the inpatient one tonight.”

  “Well I’m just doing my part. I know time is tight tonight.” She looks at Tanner. “Right Tanner? Uptight. I mean, tight?” She jabbed him on the shoulder as he passed her.

  He smirked but tried to hide it. “Ha ha Allison. You’re a comedic genius,” he said flatly.

  “That’s what I’m always telling you guys!” she said.

  “Really though Allison, the curtains aren’t all closed yet,” Olivia pointed out to her as she helped Claire arrange the items on the table.

  Jeremy closed the curtain on the front door and said, “There, you’re good now. Let’s make some magic, shall we?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT WAS A full moon that night, which was always good for business. June sat at her reading table across from a pretty young woman who came in that night asking about her soul mate. Love was what people asked about the most, even when they tried to play it off like they were there for another reason. She understood this. She knew how loneliness could eat away at a person. She had been a widow for the last nine years, and it still hadn’t gotten any easier. She hated sleeping alone. She hated living alone. So her job was a kind of salvation for her. She had been reading tarot cards for over forty years and she was incredible at it. She saw it as a way to help people, and it helped her fight loneliness. She got to sit with new people every day and got to know them a little through the cards. Once she saw their story spread out on her purple velvet cloth, sometimes she was able to help them. Before she started doing readings full time, she had a lot of students. But she appreciated the steady stream of company that her business provided. Fascination with the occult had picked up recently and she was happy to take part in the boom. She converted her front porch to a small little shop that she opened to the public. Rumors about her spread quickly, the real witch on 34th street, and her reputation brought in the customers. At first she was nothing more than a strange curiosity, but once word spread that she was incredibly accurate, things really took off.

  Tonight had been busy and she planned to close up after this client. What she thought was going to be a quick and easy reading started feeling very strange. She picked up an odd vibe from the woman when she came in, but she told herself the woman was probably just inebriated. That could mess with people’s auras and change the usual energy of a person. She was middle aged and very plain looking. She wasn’t dressed up, but she wasn’t dressed casually either. She took off her jean jacket and hugged it in front of her.

  “Welcome,” June said kindly. “Please sit down.” The woman looked around the space and walked in slowly. She was smiling, but she didn’t seem happy to be there. She looked around the room. The walls were covered in thick tapestries. Dark and earthy colors draped over bright royal hues. Two ornate lamps lit the space which was kept fairly dark. June sat at her oak table. The table was the shape of a half moon, and June sat on the flat side in her large arm chair. The table was carved with filigree details around the edges, and a candle sat near the edge. The woman sat down across from her, shifting in her chair uncomfortably, unable to focus on any one thing around the room. Her eyes darted all about. June sensed her becoming more uncomfortable.

  “What’s your name, dear?” June asked her.

  The woman looked at June and froze. “Um, my name is, Lynn.” She sat up straight.

  June knew she was lying, but that was okay. Sometimes people lied about their names. A person will ask you to look deep into their lives. Their past and future. But they will be too nervous to tell you their real name.

  “Okay, Lynn,” June said. “What can I help you with tonight?”

  The woman focused her eyes on June and began to speak. “I’m here to find out about my soul mate,” she said, sounding as if she was reading a script.

  “Is that right?” June asked. First she lied about her name and now she lied about why she was here. Two can play this game, deary, June thought. “Wonderful,” she said. June lit the candle. “A basic reading is thirty dollars.”

  The woman put cash down on the table.

  “Please think about your question and split this deck into three piles.” June unfolded a silk cloth and revealed a colorful worn tarot deck. She picked up the cards and shuffled them.

  “I have to touch it?” the woman asked.

  “Yes. You need to split the deck yourself. Is that okay?” She sat patiently and watched the woman.

  “Okay, sure. That’s fine.” The woman hesitantly reached her hand towards the deck of cards and paused before she touched them. Her hand hovered inches above the cards and she looked back up at June. June gave her a reassuring look and nodded, as if to press her on. She picked up the cards and split them as she was instructed to do. She pulled her hand away from them as if the cards were toxic.

  June squinted at her, trying to decipher exactly what was happening. She’d seen young kids come in as a joke. She’d seen skeptics come in with friends. She’d seen people completely hopeless, feeling like they had nowhere else to turn. But this woman didn’t fit into any of those categories. June closed her eyes and concentrated. She did a kind of psychic scan on the woman. Reaching out through her mind’s eye and reading her energy from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She could feel that the woman was scared. She seemed to be there under false pretenses. June began to turn each card over and place it in front of them on the silk cloth.

  “The cards tell a story,” she said. “Even if you aren’t being truthful with yourself, the cards always tell the truth.” The first card that appeared showed dogs howling up at the moon. “The Moon,” she said, recognizing the hidden motives that the woman holds. The next card is flipped over and a woman sits at a thrown, upside down. “The High Priestess, reversed.” June read cunning and manipulative character in this card. The third card showed a man carrying swords. “The Seven of Swords.” Another card that reinforces the intuition she was already feeling. She flips the last card, which depicts the devil. “The Devil,” she said. It rounds out the previous cards with an extra layer of negativity. This woman is up to no good.

  The woman stood up from the chair and stumbled backwards, frightened. “Why did you pull that card!? Why would you do that!?” she screamed.

  June kept her voice calm and tried to soothe the woman, lifting her hand out to her gently. “It’s okay, please sit down and I can explain the cards to you,” she said. “Please don’t be afraid.”

  The woman looked at June and started to walk forward before she stopped. “I don’t want to be here,” she said. “This wasn’t my idea.”<
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  “Okay, dear. I’m sorry you are uncomfortable. If you like I can give you a refund. Either way you are more than welcome to leave at any time.”

  “Okay, I lied. It was my idea,” she said, as her lips curled upwards into a smile that made June’s stomach turn.

  “What do you mean?” June asked.

  Before the woman could answer, she heard a thump behind her, coming from inside of her house. Instinctively she turned to look towards the sound. The woman lunged at her and pressed a cloth against her face. June struggled and pushed the woman off of her and onto the ground. She jumped over the woman to get to the porch door, and saw the front door to her house open out of the corner of her eye. Someone else had been inside her house. She reached for the door handle of the front porch and felt a shooting pain on her skull as a handful of her hair was grabbed. Her legs almost flew out underneath her and she fell to the floor, slamming her head on the ground. Her vision was blurry and she had to struggle to make out the image of a man standing over her. In the dark she couldn’t see his face. She reached up and brushed hair out of her eyes, trying to get her bearings and get back up to run away. She felt an explosion in her side as the woman kicked her in the rib.

  “Fucking dirty witch,” she said.

  “Let’s finish this up,” the man said from above her.

  “No, please,” June whispered.

  “Shut up!” The woman kicked her again, harder. June cried out in pain.

  “Stop fucking kicking her!” the man whispered to the woman. “We need her to be quiet.”

  June coughed and held her side in pain. She spit out blood.

  “That’s why I brought this,” she said. She pulled out a bandana. “We can use it as a gag.” She bent over June. “Hold her arms down will you?” She tied the gag around June’s head.

  “Now let’s get her inside,” the man said. He dragged her by the arms across the porch.

  The woman smiled down at June and tilted her head to the side. She pulled a knife out of her bag. “We are gonna have some fun tonight, dear .” She aimed the knife and twisted it in the air towards June.

  June tried to cry out but could barely make a sound without her side exploding in pain. All she could manage was a wince. Her head was killing her and she still couldn’t see straight. She was pulled into her dark house, and the woman quietly closed the front door behind them.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I HAVE BEEN trying to call you all week. Where have you been?” Christopher asked over the phone. They had been talking for a half an hour before he finally asked her.

  “Sorry, Dad,” Emily said. “I’ve been kind of out of it this week. I haven’t been sleeping well.” Emily laid on her couch with her feet up on the arm rest. Eli curled in a ball on her stomach, purring.

  “I was worried about you. Why haven’t you been sleeping well?” he asked.

  “Mom said she was worried about me too,” she said. “Why are you guys both worried about me all of the sudden?”

  “Well, Em,” he said. “You just haven't been yourself lately. I’m sure your mother has noticed that as well. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Emily pet Eli and was silent for a moment as she considered how much she wanted to get into with her dad. They were close and she usually shared everything with him. Unlike the relationship she had with her mother, which was almost always tense, her relationship with her father was very comfortable. She sometimes felt like an outsider for the kind of relationship she had with her father. All of her past girlfriends and even most of her friends growing up had strained relationships with their fathers. But she always felt like hers was rock solid. She wanted to confide in him, but for the first time she was nervous about how he would take what she might say to him.

  “It's okay, Dad,” she sighed. She wasn't ready to try and explain what was going on. Maybe once she figured out something more she could open up about the dreams she’s been having. “I’m fine, please don’t worry about me.” She gently moved Eli off of her lap and sit up on the edge of her couch.

  “Okay.” He was silent and she knew what he was going to ask next. “So, Em. Are you seeing anyone lately?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, Dad. I’m still not seeing anyone.”

  “Why not? You haven’t told me about anyone new in so long.”

  “Dad. I don’t know. I got burned out on dating and I just haven’t been interested in anyone I’ve met.” She thought of the woman from her dream. If she met her in real life she’d marry her in a heartbeat.

  “I’m sorry Emily. I know you’ve wanted to settle down, and I wish I had better advice. All I can say is that you’ll find the person for you when your heart is ready.”

  She wanted that to be true. She didn’t feel like it was true for him. He fell madly in love with her mother, but they didn’t want the same things. Her mom didn’t want a family, and she didn’t want to settle down. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t get her to stay. She left them when Emily was six years old to move to Ireland, where her family was from.

  “Are you seeing anyone Dad?” she asked. In part to change the subject, but she was also curious about her dad’s personal life. She knew he’d been lonely.

  “No,” he said.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “I just,” he paused, recognizing the humor in what he was about to say, “I just haven’t found anyone I’m interested in.”

  “Right,” she said. “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you ever had recurring dreams? Dreams that were so real they felt like memories that haven’t happened yet?”

  “I can’t say that I have. Are you having recurring dreams?” he asked.

  Emily sighed. She hadn’t wanted to open up to him about this yet, but she was hoping he would be able to help somehow. “Yeah. Pretty much every night. Bits of the same dream over and over. Each night it could be a different part, but it's all part of one dream. And they are starting to play when I'm awake and close my eyes. I am losing so much sleep and I'm constantly distracted,” she said.

  “Wow Emily that sounds like a lot,” he said. “Maybe you could get a sleep study done?”

  “What? Like go it and get hooked up to wires and sensors all night? I don't know how that would help,” she said.

  “Maybe you have a sleep disorder. There are all kinds of sleep disorders. And if you were diagnosed with something, maybe a doctor could help,” he said.

  “I thought about it, but I feel like they would just give me pills and don’t like the idea of that. Plus it’s embarrassing. I wouldn’t want to get into the dreams that are causing it, and then they might send me to a therapist or something and it would turn into a whole thing.”

  “Okay, I guess,” he said. “I wish I saw you more, Em. We only live twenty minutes apart you could stop by once and a while.”

  “I could say the same to you, Dad,” Emily sighed.

  “Well, I think I’m going to let you go for now. I’m going to start getting ready for bed.”

  Christopher sounded disappointed, but understanding. He probably knew that Emily would open up to him more when she felt ready to. “Okay Em,” he said. “Just know that I’m always here for you, okay?”

  “I know, Dad. Thanks,” Emily said. “I love you.”

  “Love you too,” Christopher said.

  Emily hung up the phone and set it down. She reached in her pocket and looked at the business card the guy from the Cottage gave her. She flipped it over and read his name and number.

  “Jeremy,” she said. Her thumb ran across the corner of the card and she pictured his face. She couldn’t place the feeling it gave her. It wasn’t deja vu. And it wasn’t exactly recognition. She hadn’t met him before, but she felt like she knew him. It didn’t make sense, and she felt silly even thinking about it. Her thoughts shifted to the woman from her dream like a flash and she noticed her heart beat faster. She stood up and shook her hands vigorously as she paced back and forth in fro
nt of the couch. “Get it together Emily.” She walked into the kitchen and looked at the clock on the oven. It read 9:45pm. She shifted her gaze above the clock and eyed the bottle of red wine that sat on the shelf above the stove. She wasn’t usually the kind of person to drink alone, but she needed to clear her mind, and she was out of ideas. She grabbed the bottle and put it on the counter. She pulled the bottle opener out of the shelf in front of her, and reached over her head and into the cupboard for a wine glass. The glass was dusty. She blew in the glass and dust flew in her face, tickling her nose. She ran the glass under some water from the faucet and opened the bottle of wine. Before even bringing the bottle to her nose, she could smell the sweet aroma. An image snapped in her mind for an instant. Dancing naked in a dark and smoky room. She shook her head, trying to shake the image out of her mind. She poured wine into the glass and just before she was about to stop, she poured a little more. She closed her eyes, took a sip, and as the wine filled her mouth she was transported back into her dreams yet again. Her vision was flooded with red and then she was standing naked in that dark room that bodies danced in just a moment before. She was drinking wine out of ceramic chalice so heavy that she needed to hold it with both hands. She opened her eyes and was back in her own kitchen, holding the wine glass with two hands. She looked at the glass and blinked, trying to clear her vision. Keeping her eyes open this time, she struggled to gulp down the entire glass of wine before pouring another. She downed the second glass even quicker than the first. She placed the empty wine glass on the counter and wiped a red drop from her bottom lip. Her head felt woozy. She closed her eyes and could see nothing but blackness. Her purple tinted lips turned upward into a smile and she poured another glass of wine. She carried the glass into the living room and sat down in the couch, kicking her feet up on a small blue ottoman. She picked up her phone and turned on classical music. She felt relaxed and calm. Her shoulders relaxed, and her jaw unclenched. She gently sipped her third glass of wine and the night drifted away from her and slowly into blackness.