Bewitched and Bewildered

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Bewitched and Bewildered Page 3

by Constance Barker


  “Every night.”

  They walked down the street, pulling their coats against the early Spring wind. “If you wanted, could you just go into the Twih and, I don’t know, live there with her?”

  “It’s difficult, being in the Twih. Time blows like a wind, it’s not constant. The unworldliness of the place is very taxing on the mind. It can break down your sense of self pretty quick. Creatures there aren’t completely physical, their motives are undefinable. I mean, here, animals want the basic stuff, eating, mating, sleeping, protecting their young. That isn’t the case on the other side. That’s why we decided you and your sisters had to be raised in this reality.”

  Echo nodded. She’d encountered an entity from the Twih. It was trying to latch onto her young cousin, Zuri. In the meanwhile, it had detached itself from a serial killer. “I get it.”

  “It used to be that the Twih was easier to get into. Natives have an innate ability to enter the Twih. Takes a lot of energy, though. The magic equivalent to, say, running a marathon. Now, things have changed. There’s a surface tension, very tough to penetrate from this side. Whatever those changes are, they have also made it much more difficult for Twih denizens to exist in this reality. At least, the sentient ones.”

  They pushed through the doors of the brick building.

  “Maybe that’s why Mom was so out of it when she was here.”

  “Could be. I’ll have to talk to her about it.”

  “Why do you think it’s different, now?” Echo prompted as they walked down tiled halls.

  Dad shrugged. “Climate change, zeitgeist shifts, advancing technology. Maybe all of it at once. Magic is always easier for young people. When you’re a kid, there’s a certain sense of awe that’s a special quality of youth. It fades with age. But maybe today, kids don’t have a sense of awe anymore. They’re addicted to cell phones, social media. They don’t take time to wonder. It seems there’s no place for magic anymore.”

  “I’ve been to the Twih,” Echo said. “It didn’t seem all that bad. Uncle Nick let me in.”

  “Ah, Nick. I haven’t seen him in a while. What’s he up to?”

  Echo shrugged. “I have no idea. He saved me from the Jade Coven. Leshy let me out again.”

  “Leshy? Is that what you call Alan?”

  “Alan? That huge wooly thing with the horns and fangs and glowing eyes is named Alan?”

  “Yeah. Alan McGooby. Leshy is more what he is. The term is Eastern European. Hungarian, maybe? There are other names for those creatures. Paniskoi, Pashupati. Cernunnos.”

  “There you are, Cade. I have to tell you, the board is thrilled with the way things turned out. Oh, hello—Harvest, is it?”

  “Echo,” Echo said.

  “Ava, this is my youngest, Echo. Echo, Ava Taylor. She’s running the show as far as international incidents.”

  “Forgive me, the three of you look so alike. But Quinn, the social worker, she has that Miss Fisher flapper bob, right?” Ava shook her hand.

  “You’re Dad’s boss?”

  Ava’s head angled back and forth. “Not so much. Cade is an independent contractor. I’m just in charge of the division who contracts with him. We more or less work together. The situation is temporary. Unfortunately.”

  When Ava wrapped her arm through Dad’s Echo felt her hackles rise.

  “The legal team needs a debriefing. We’re getting more adept at defending accused witches is less developed countries. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few tricks in our bag with cultural clashes in the West. It’s already arvo in Paris. Afternoon, that is.”

  “I’ll meet you in the conference room,” Dad said.

  Ava gave him a familiar pat on the front of his jacket. “Nice to meet you, Echo. Hopefully I’ll see you again.”

  Echo watched the curvy redhead sashay down the hall. “She knows you’re married, right Dad?”

  Dad’s face contorted into puzzlement. “I think so. Listen, I’m sure this will only take a few hours. Pick me up at three?”

  “Is there a number I can reach you at?”

  “I don’t have a number. Truth is, I’m rarely in a place with electricity long enough to charge a phone.” He gave her a sheepish smile.

  “Three it is. I have to check out some junk shops for candle jars.”

  Chapter 6

  Quinn sat at her computer, trying to conjure a report about George Cochran. So far, all she had were negatives—no sense of abuse in the home, no fear of the school on the boy’s part, no indications of psychological issues. She couldn’t very well include the huge, unidentifiable footprints in the mud behind the bus shelter. While he did react when she mentioned nightmares, she didn’t know exactly what those dreams entailed. Quinn typed it anyway. Disturbing dreams may be a contributing factor. Horror movies? The father mentioned that.

  She typed more, back spaced, typed again. Sighed. It was just a preliminary report, but looking at the skimpy contents made her feel like a slacker. When her cell phone rang, she answered it happily.

  “Hey, Quinn. It’s Cora.”

  Quinn hesitated. The last time she’d seen Cora was after the three sisters banished a demon-like presence from her daughter’s closet. At the time, Cora said she wanted nothing to do with the Hutchinsons. Zuri, the daughter, was actually a cousin to the triplets. Mom’s brother, Uncle Nick, was the father. Cora wanted less to do with Nick than she did the Hutchinsons.

  “Everything okay, Cora?”

  Silence followed. Finally, she said, “Look, things were said, and I was in a state at the time. I’m sorry.”

  “I get it. Things were... weird.”

  “Yeah.”

  Quinn heard the sound of typing and phone conversations in the building. The pause went on far too long. “Is Zuri okay?”

  “No,” Cora said immediately. “That is, she’s not sick, and there’s nothing in the house like before. I think.”

  Her mind made a sudden leap. Zuri was half-Twih, like Quinn and her sisters. “Is she having nightmares?”

  “Yeah, she is. Every night. Sometimes, she wakes up screaming. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “How about if I come by after work? I’ll bring Echo along. I know those two are besties.”

  Finally, she heard a smile in Cora’s voice. “Zuri would really like that.”

  “Hang in there. We’ll see you this evening.”

  HARVEST WAS SURPRISED to see Sgt. Jeff Shafer pull up to Mooney’s house. The place was already crawling with State Police, but Shafer was in charge of criminal investigations for the region.

  “Of course I find you here, Hutchinson.” He levered his tall frame from the car.

  Harvest showed him her palms. “I’m just serving an unpaid garbage bill.”

  Shafer surveyed the scene. Forensics guys in boiler suits walked in and out, troopers guarding the entrance. “Oberon thinks gang retaliation.”

  “That’s stupid.” Harvest pointed to the balcony. “Why would gangsters climb up the side of the house and bust in the balcony door? They could’ve just kicked in the front door.”

  Shafer caught the evidence marker on the ground. He questioned Harvest with his expression.

  “Latch was broken off when I got here. See what I’m saying?”

  His eyes tracked up the gate, where mud marred the surface near the top. “You got a theory?”

  Harvest frowned. “Nope.”

  “Forensics identified a round from an innocent bystander as coming from Mooney’s weapon. Given the chaos of the scene, we’re still trying to determine whether it was an accident, or if Mooney was just gunning for dark complexions, if you take my meaning.”

  “He shot Barif Zambo?”

  Shafer’s brows lowered.

  “I escorted his brother to family court.”

  Disbelief dripped from his grunt. “Uh-huh.”

  Harvest felt like she was under a microscope. “Um, did Mooney kill any of the gangsters?”

  “Yeah, he shot two of them. But a lot
of troopers shot a lot of gangsters. Most of them didn’t get their name in the paper.” Shafer faced the house. “Gang-bangers could’ve tracked Mooney down the easiest.”

  Harvest nodded. “Thus the retaliation theory.”

  “Theory is what it is. From what Oberon tells me, there’s a lot of bullet holes in the walls. There are signs of a scuffle, a small amount of blood. What we don’t have is Trooper Mooney. He’s the only one who can tell us what went down. If he’s alive.”

  “Well, him, and the person or persons who attacked him,” Harvest said.

  “One thing at a time. Please tell me you didn’t enter the premises.”

  “Not my job. I saw the vandalism, thought it might be more serious, and called Sgt. Oberon.”

  “You didn’t call me?”

  “He’s the local commander.”

  “Finally, you’re learning the ropes. So I probably don’t need to make the usual speech.”

  Harvest sighed. “If the man had paid his garbage bill, I wouldn’t even know about this. I’m not butting in.”

  “Great to hear it.”

  ECHO PARKED ON 2nd Ave waiting for Dad. She’d picked up a dozen ugly granite ashtrays she thought would be perfect for her latest candle. The outside would be a two peaked, and two-wicked, volcano. Exterior wax would be dark and painted to resemble rock, while the inside was a mix of reds, yellows and oranges. When lit, it would look like the volcanoes were slowly erupting, bright lava flowing down the slopes. She also found a box of dinosaur toys at the Salvation Army for five bucks. Dinosaur toys frequently played a part in her candle art.

  While she waited, her cell phone rang. “Hey, Quinn.”

  “Hey. I got great news. Cora wants us to visit.”

  “Awesome possum! I haven’t seen Zuri since...”

  Since she was nearly possessed by a blue, smoke-like demon.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Quinn hesitated. “Cora says Zuri’s having nightmares. I thought maybe you could talk to her. You know, on the friend level.”

  Dad walked out of the building, and Echo stuck her hand out the window, waving.

  “N.P. I forgot how much I miss her.”

  “I’m sure she misses you, too.”

  Echo put the phone on speaker as Dad got in the truck. “When are we going?”

  “I have a few more things to do here. How about I pick you up at the Grams’ at five?”

  Dad leaned in. “Your Aunt Mary is making fried chicken. You don’t want to be late for that.”

  “Dad, hey! I’m sure this won’t take too long. I’ll try to get done as quick as I can.”

  “Mary’s fried chicken waits for no one.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Well, we might have to eat it cold. Once Echo and Zuri get together, they can talk about dinosaurs and natural philosophy for hours.”

  Dad’s head angled as he squinted at Echo. “Who’s Zuri?”

  “Our cousin,” Echo said. “Your niece.”

  “My niece?”

  “Uncle Nick’s daughter,” Quinn said.

  Dad’s face melded into part shock, part anger. “After all the difficulties with Trinity’s pregnancy—Nick had a kid? What the hell was he thinking?”

  “She’s awesome, Dad. Really smart. You’d love her.” Echo felt dismayed at his reaction.

  His features relaxed into a distant smile. “I’m sure I would. Does her mother know she’s raising a half-Twih witch?”

  “Uh...” Both Echo and Quinn stalled at the same time.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I gotta go. See you at five.” Quinn hung up.

  Echo started the car and pulled onto the street. As she drove, she told Dad a little about Blue Rodrigo, the Twih creature that tried to possess the little girl.

  “Blue Rodrigo?” Dad frowned in thought. “You mean, a clawed ego tried to imbue her soul?”

  “We got rid of it.”

  “I always thought Nick was a little irresponsible, but allowing some unsuspecting woman to raise a witch? It’s unconscionable.”

  Echo took 5th Ave toward Scandia. “You think Zuri is in danger?”

  “Definitely.”

  Chapter 7

  Quinn knocked on the kitchen door, Echo shuffling her feet on the step below. Past the curtains, she saw Zuri look up from the kitchen table. In a moment, she exploded out of her chair and threw open the door.

  “Echo! Quinn!”

  “Zuri!” Echo shouted.

  “Group hug!” Quinn shouted.

  The embrace was fierce enough to make them stagger through the doorway. Cora entered from the living room. To Quinn’s relief, the woman broke into a smile.

  “Where have you been, Echo?”

  “Away at school.”

  “I go to school, too.”

  “Yes, but I live at the school.”

  Zuri made a face. “You live at school? Ick!”

  “No, it’s fun. It’s like a sleepover every day.”

  Quinn watched Zuri take her sister’s hand and lead her to the kitchen table. “I’ve been drawing woolly mammoths. You wanna see?”

  “You bet. How’s fifth grade?”

  Zuri shrugged. “I thought there would be more classes about dinosaurs.”

  “I have classes about dinosaurs.”

  The little girl’s mouth dropped open. “You do?”

  “In geology class. It’s about rocks, and the ages of the earth. If I keep going with it, eventually I’ll start taking paleontology.”

  Cora shook her head and smirked at Quinn. “Coffee?”

  “That would be great.”

  The two of them retired to the living room where they could overhear the girls talking. Cora’s features sagged into worry. “I just keep remembering that summer. The thing in her closet. It was real, wasn’t it? I try to tell myself it was just a dream.”

  “We took care of it, Cora. It won’t come back. This is probably just stress-related. She’ll tell Echo. She tells Echo everything.”

  Cora chuckled despite herself. “I must admit, I miss having Echo around. Those two.”

  “Did you hear about the feathered dinosaur tail they found?” Zuri said.

  Echo said, “Tell me.”

  “I’m hoping this dinosaur fascination leads her to a broader interest in science,” Cora sighed.

  “Better than her staring at a cell phone all the time.” Quinn sipped. “So these nightmares, tell me more.”

  After looking over her shoulder, Cora lowered her voice. “She says something is in the yard, watching her.”

  Quinn thought about Zuri’s bedroom. Her windows overlooked the side yard. The backyard was wooded, quickly becoming fairly thick forest beyond the property line. “Well, we do live in the woods. Maybe it’s coyotes or something.”

  The women paused, listening to see if the girls overheard.

  “Did you hear about the dinosaur eggs?” Echo asked.

  They resumed their conversation. “Why would coyotes look up at her window?”

  “Just thinking out loud. Did you check for tracks or anything? Knocked over garbage cans?”

  Cora made a conciliatory face. “Well, no. Do you think I should have?”

  Quinn thought about the large, undefined tracks behind George’s bus shelter. “You might want to think about it next time it happens. If she has another nightmare.”

  The woman nodded agreement. “Oh! You probably haven’t heard, but I’ve taken a full-time teaching job. Fourth grade.”

  “That’s great, Cora.”

  “So dinosaurs died out because their eggs took too long to hatch?” Zuri exclaimed.

  Echo said, “I know, isn’t that crazy?”

  In a TV announcer’s voice, Zuri said, “That’s not crazy.”

  “That’s evolution!” The two girls shouted together.

  “Even so, I was hoping, if we mended some bridges, I might go back to working at the Chandlery this summer.”

  Quinn grabbed Cora’s hand. “Ye
s. The Grams miss you and Cora. They’d be thrilled. No bridge repair necessary. I know how... horrible last summer was for you.”

  “Hey, what’s this? This isn’t a dinosaur,” Echo said.

  The women went silent.

  “No. It’s just the shadow monster.”

  They locked eyes. Quinn found herself holding her breath.

  “Shadow monster? What’s that?”

  Zuri was quiet for a moment.

  “C’mon, kid,” Quinn whispered.

  “It’s just a shadow monster. It watches me sometimes.”

  “Like, in a bad dream?” Echo prompted.

  “Sometimes. But I’ve seen it. Well, it’s just a shadow. I only sorta see it.”

  “It’s scary?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where do you see it? In your room?”

  “No!” Zuri sounded incredulous. “Down in the yard. It looks up at me. I can see its eyes. Then it goes in the woods.”

  “Wow. Lots of stuff going on while I’m away at school. What do you think the shadow monster wants?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think it wants to eat me?”

  “Nope.” Echo said this with authority. “I think it’s just passing through, heading into the woods. Sometimes animals are curious. Shadow monsters probably are, too.”

  A silent moment passed. Then Zuri asked, “Did you hear about Mansourasaurus?”

  HARVEST TAPPED HER fingers impatiently at the dining room table. The smell of frying chicken made her stomach do happy cartwheels. Gramma Em and Aunt Mary bustled around, battering and frying, checking the potatoes and gravy.

  “If they don’t get here soon, we’ll start without them,” Mary said.

  “Amen,” Dad agreed.

  But a few minutes later, a car pulled up the drive. Echo and Quinn bounded in. “Are we too late?”

  “Just in time,” Gramma said.

  “You need help with anything, Ma?” Dad asked.

  Gramma snorted. “I’ve seen you cook, Cade. No thanks.”

  “Finally!” Harvest said. “Something really weird is going on.” She told them about the trooper’s home, the break in on the second floor, the mysterious muddy tracks up the wall.

 

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