by Neva Bell
“Let me see your brand,” I say when my head is above water.
I’m guessing Jessica is a dove. She has a bit of spunkiness to her, but she seems too sweet to be a hawk.
Jessica’s face goes blank for a second. “I don’t have a brand.”
“What?”
She shows me her back. Nope, no tattoo there.
“You’re not a witch?” I ask shocked.
Jessica uses the ladder to climb down into the pool. “No. I’m a plain old human.”
“How did your family get involved with Willa then?”
“It’s complicated. My mom is a witch, but my dad isn’t.”
“Oh.”
Jessica nods. “I had a fifty/fifty shot. Unfortunately, I wasn’t lucky.”
“I don’t know,” I say, “being a witch isn’t that awesome.”
She laughs. “Maybe not for you, but I think being a typical witch definitely has some advantages.”
I can’t argue with her.
We swim and make small talk for half an hour. Jessica is a nice person, laid back and funny. I’m sure she and I will get along fine.
Before leaving the pool area, I use the phone on the wall to call the extension Jessica gave me.
“Yes?” answers a male voice.
“This is Chloe. You can turn the pool cameras back on.”
“Understood.”
When we’re in the elevator, I ask Jessica if I can get a TV for my room.
“Of course. I’ll look into it while you’re out tomorrow. Depending on timing, we may be able to install it before you get back.”
The twisting in my stomach returns. “If I make it back.”
“You will,” Jessica says confidently. “Willa is fantastic at glamour spells. No one will ever know it’s you.”
I’m sure Jessica is right. Willa is the Verhena, her magic is legit.
But it’s not Willa’s magic I’m worried about. It’s myself. Will I be able to maintain control of my emotions when I see my parents? Or worse, Chelsea’s casket? Is there any way I can get through her funeral service without losing it?
When I return to my room, I call Frank.
“Hey Frank,” I say when he answers.
“What’s up Chloe?”
I twirl the phone cord around my finger. “I’ve been thinking about tomorrow.”
“Okay…”
“It may be best if we just go to the gravesite. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it through the service at the funeral home.”
“Whatever you want to do, we’ll make it happen.”
“Thanks.” I hang up the phone and stare at the ceiling once again.
Chapter Nine
Jessica wakes me the next morning. I slept like crap and I’m a hot mess.
I walk into the closet, but don’t see anything funeral appropriate. I flop down on the chair in front of the vanity and consider not going at all. Wouldn’t it be a lot easier that way? Then I can pretend none of this happened. I can tell myself Chelsea is at Leviston, crushing her Curing classes and becoming the amazing witch she was supposed to be.
I’m trying really hard to put on a brave face when all I want to do is curl up in the fetal position. I don’t want to go to my sister’s funeral. I don’t want my sister to be dead. I don’t want to see my parents torn apart. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to be alive at all.
But I owe Chelsea more than that. I have to be strong. I can’t let myself waste away.
Jessica walks into the closet. “Put on whatever you want. Don’t worry about hair or makeup either.”
“Does Willa’s glamour include an outfit?”
Jessica smiles. “It’s the works.”
Well, getting ready just got a lot easier.
I put on a pair of cutoff denim shorts, a Rihanna t-shirt and a pair of black Chuck Taylors. It’s not exactly February weather attire, but if Jessica’s right, I won’t be wearing this outfit outside.
Jessica and I join Willa, Beth and Frank for breakfast. I’m relieved to see bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s pizza and my stomach is begging for food.
Despite being anxious about the day ahead of me, I eat my toast, most of my eggs, and a piece of bacon. I’m daydreaming about the funeral when Willa claps her hands together and snaps the fog in my brain.
She looks at me and Frank. “You guys ready?”
“I guess so,” I respond at the same time Frank answers, “Yes.”
“Stand up,” Willa directs as she pushes her chair back. “Now, get your butts over here.”
Frank and I do as told.
“I thought about it and I think it’s best if I make you look like a couple in their early fifties. That is your parents’ age, right Chloe?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. You will look like an average couple from your parents’ jobs, neighborhood, bowling league, whatever, who are coming to pay their respects.”
Frank nods. “Makes sense.”
“Okay then. Stand still.”
Willa’s face turns into a wall of concentration. I’m not sure what to expect. Will I float into the air and transform like the Beast did at the end of Beauty in the Beast? Will electricity shoot out of Willa’s fingers and zap me? Will it hurt?
A tingling sensation runs up my arms and legs. It reminds me of the pins and needles I feel when my foot is almost asleep, but not quite. The sensation stops as quickly as it started.
‘There!” Willa exclaims with a smile. “All done.”
I don’t believe Willa has actually done anything until I turn to look at Frank. Well, what used to be Frank. He is now much shorter, has a full head of grey hair and is sporting a mustache. His Under Armour shirt and khakis have been traded in for black dress pants and a gray tweed blazer. Under his blazer is a button-down white shirt with a tie.
“You look hilarious!” I exclaim, then clap my hand over my mouth. I don’t know whose voice that was, but it wasn’t mine.
“You should see yourself,” the new Frank responds in an unfamiliar voice.
I look down. I’m wearing a black dress, pantyhose, and black pumps with a kitten heel. I run over to the windows to see my full reflection. Big eyes, a medium-sized nose, and a lipstick painted smile are my new features. I have red, wavy hair that hits just below my shoulders. I look pretty good for a woman my mom’s age.
“This is unreal,” I say in my alien voice.
“Tell me about it,” Jessica says from the breakfast table.
“Willa, can you turn me into Gisele Bundchen?” I ask excitedly.
The new Frank rolls his eyes. “Because that would be inconspicuous.”
Willa laughs. “I save Gisele for myself.”
I’m awestruck. “This is so cool.”
“Alright,” Frank grabs my arm, “let’s go wifey.”
My stomach rolls. Reality crashes back in. This glamour isn’t for fun. It’s for my sister’s funeral. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.
I say good-bye to the ladies and get into the elevator. Frank pushes B2 and the elevator starts to move.
I gaze at my reflection in the elevator doors. “This is too weird.”
“I know,” Frank agrees. “It’s crazy.”
The elevator opens to the underground garage and five members of the Guard are waiting for us. They stare at us for a moment, not sure who they are looking at.
“It’s me,” Frank confirms. “And this is the new Chloe.”
The Guard members exchange glances, but roll with it.
“Chloe and I will leave through the auxiliary exit. Cars 1 and 2 leave first, then me and Chloe, and then Car 4. Got it?”
Everyone nods their heads.
“The auxiliary exit?” I ask as we walk toward the opposite side of the garage.
“We don’t want to leave from the building’s garage. If the rogue wolves know where this building is, they’ll follow any car coming out of it.”
We stop in front
of a concrete wall. “Um, where are we going?”
“Patience my dear,” Frank responds.
I stand there waiting for something to happen, but nothing does.
“Frank, I don’t mean to be rude…”
I stop talking when the concrete wall in front of us begins moving backwards.
“What the hell?”
Old man Frank smiles. “O ye of little faith.”
The wall pushes back about three feet, enough room for us to squeeze through to the other side. As soon as we’ve cleared the path, the wall starts moving back into place.
“Well that was different.” I look around. We are in a parking garage identical to the one we just left. “What is this?”
Frank walks toward a white Toyota Camry. “It’s the garage for the office building next to ours. We built an access into it years ago.”
The Camry’s lights flash as Frank hits the unlock button on his key fob. He takes the driver seat and I ride shotgun.
“How are the other cars going to know when we’ve left?”
Frank starts the car and shifts into drive. “There are two Guard cars in here with us. They have radios to the other members.”
“Okay. So what’s the plan?”
“Car 1 has just left the other garage. Hopefully it will draw the attention of anyone watching. Then Car 2 will exit this garage.” Frank points to a red Ford ahead of us. Its driver looks like a business man. “Then we will exit, followed by Car 4.”
“Are they following us to the funeral?”
Frank shakes his head. “No. As we drive through the city, those cars will turn off. Guard members are placed in cars along the route and will follow us until we reach the next set of cars.”
I’m impressed. “You’ve thought of everything, huh?”
Frank shrugs. “We do what we can.”
We cruise through New York City. I check the side mirror for any potential stalkers. My heart is racing, but everything seems to be okay. I don’t notice the Guard members’ cars coming and going and I know it’s happening. Surely no one else would recognize their cars. Frank and I are silent, both ready and alert.
Once we’re out of the city, I breathe a sigh of relief. After some time, Frank relaxes too. His new shoulders, not nearly as bulky as his real ones, are less tense and he lets one of his hands fall from the steering wheel.
It’s odd to see Frank in the form of this older man. If I walked by him on the street, I would never put two and two together. Sitting in the car with him though, I notice certain facial expressions and gestures that I recognize as being unique to Frank. It lets me know Frank is really under the disguise.
I ask him if he’s noticed the same about me.
“Honestly Chloe, I haven’t paid much attention. I’m on the lookout for any potential danger.”
I nod and go back to staring out the window.
“I want to talk to you about something though,” he says.
“I’m a captive audience.”
“What I said to you yesterday…about being your friend…”
“You mean about not being my friend,” I correct him, looking straight ahead out the windshield.
Frank sighs. “What I meant to say came out wrong.”
“How so?”
“I want to be your friend, but I have to remember that I’m also your bodyguard. I can’t get too wrapped up in having fun with you.”
“If you’re my bodyguard, then why can’t you stay on the same floor as me? It’s boring as hell up there by myself.”
Frank shifts awkwardly. “Those rooms are reserved for your personal guests.”
“Yes, and you’ll be my personal guest.”
“I don’t think you get what I’m saying.” Frank looks at me meaningfully. “Your personal guests.”
Ohhh.
“I see. So people will think we’re doing it if you stay on my floor.”
Frank rolls his eyes. “Yep. Chloe’s still in there.”
I smile. “I get it Frank. I really do. I’m just lonely.”
Frank pats my shoulder. “I know you are, but it won’t be like this forever.”
He’s right. As soon as the wolves are eliminated, there will be no need for extra security. Maybe I can even go home.
“Do we have a plan for taking care of the wolves?” I ask.
Frank shifts his weight again. “There is a plan in the works. I’m not a huge fan of it. You won’t be either.”
“When do I get the details of this plan?”
“We can discuss it on the way home.”
“Not even a hint?” I press.
“Not right now Chloe. We have too much to worry about first. I promise on the way home we’ll talk about it.”
“Yeah right.” I slump down in the seat. I’m being put off and I don’t like it.
“Trust me, we’ll discuss it. I don’t have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something is happening today while we’re gone. The initial stage of the plan will be in full force by the time we get back.”
What the hell is he talking about?
I cross my arms. I know Frank won’t tell me anything until he’s ready, so I don’t bother trying to get more answers. Not yet anyway.
“Fine. On the way home then,” I say firmly.
I ponder what could possibly be happening today while I’m gone, but give up when I can’t come up with a single plausible option.
As I continue watching the world go by, I think of a question. “What did my parents tell their non-witch friends about Chelsea?”
“They told everyone that you, Rory and Chelsea were in a bad car accident. According to the story, you are badly injured, but recuperating at a hospital in Vermont.”
Good enough cover story as any I suppose.
I think of another question. “Do the witches know about me? About what I am?”
Frank nods. “Yes. They know.”
I’m sure that was a sight to see. The members of my coven were probably shocked as all get out. “Chloe?” I can see them asking. “Chloe from our coven? The girl who used to run around like a maniac? Are you sure?”
After a couple hours, we pass the welcome sign for my hometown. The sun is shining and it’s an unusually warm day for February. Frank pulls into the entrance for the cemetery and drives around for a few minutes, then stops on one of the side roads. Down the row of tombstones is a green tent. The telltale sign of an open plot. The mechanism used to lower Chelsea’s casket is ready and waiting.
I close my eyes and fight to maintain control.
You can’t draw attention to yourself. You must go unnoticed, I repeat to myself over and over again.
Frank pulls out his cellphone and checks his messages. “They just left the funeral home. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
He turns to look at me and notices I’m staring at the green tent. Motionless.
Frank reaches out his hand and grabs mine. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but say nothing.
“We can turn around. Right now.”
“No,” I mumble.
“I’m serious,” he insists. “If you don’t think you can handle it, I’ll get us out of here.”
“No,” I say a bit stronger.
Frank nods his head and turns back to his window. We sit and wait for the procession. I practice breathing techniques while Frank scans our surroundings.
As promised, a black hearse pulls in ten minutes later followed by what seems like an endless stream of cars. Three of my cousins, Rory’s brother, and two other male members of our coven lift a coffin out of the back of the hearse. They steady the coffin in their hands and walk toward the green tent.
My parents exit a black limousine. They look awful. My dad is wearing a black suit and a tie Chelsea and I gave him one year for Father’s Day. He always told us it was his favorite because it has “I love Dad” written all over it in small white script.
He and my mom are both wearing d
ark sunglasses. My mom grips onto my dad’s arm as they walk toward the gravesite. She is wearing a black dress suit and a wide brim black hat.
I want to run to them and hug them as tightly as I can. Instead, I remain glued to my seat.
“Are you ready?” Frank asks.
I open the car door in response. I inhale the winter air and tell myself I have to keep it together. At least until we get out of the cemetery.
We join the stream of people heading to the gravesite and I slip my arm into Frank’s. Willa’s plan worked perfectly. We blend in unnoticed with the other fifty-something couples.
We stand toward the back, but I can see my parents seated in the front row of chairs under the tent. They have chosen a dark cherry coffin. It’s covered with pink roses, Chelsea’s favorite.
A giant picture of Chelsea stands in front of the casket. It’s one of my favorite pictures of her. It was taken when we had our senior pictures done in high school. She is laying on her stomach in the grass, propped up on her elbows. Her blue sweater makes her eyes shine and her smile is bright.
Samantha walks to the front of the casket and clears her throat. “It’s time for us to say our final farewells. You all said beautiful things about Chelsea at the service and I echo every one of those sentiments. A wonderful girl taken from us too soon.”
My mom cries softly into her tissue and my father pulls her against him as he fights to keep his composure.
Samantha continues. “Many of you have asked about Chloe.”
I stiffen when I hear my name.
“She is recuperating, and she is now in stable condition. Her prognosis is good, although she is reeling from the loss of her sister.”
Some in the crowd nod and look relieved. Others are whispering back and forth to each other, the witches gossiping about the truth.
My mom scans the crowd and I swear she stops on me for a second. I hold my breath until she turns away.
Samantha recites a traditionally Christian prayer, but throws in a few phrases the witches who are present will recognize. After she’s done, a small line forms in front of my parents.
The bulk of the crowd begins walking back to their vehicles, but I move toward my mom and dad.