I’m halfway down the sidewalk when the front door opens, courtesy of Arja, who gives me a weird look I can’t read. Her eyes look like they might pop out of her head, though. If I can just get ten minutes alone with her I’m pretty confident I could hypnotize her into not telling our parents anything. I could even get inside her head and try erasing her memory of this morning, but she’s my sister and I really don’t want to do that because it’s riskier. I wouldn’t want to accidentally delete half of her proverbial hard drive.
I walk into the house and discover that my parents are sitting at the kitchen table already. In fact, the table has been set and bowls of steaming hot, spicy food are ready to be devoured family style. Arja hurries over and takes her seat. I put my backpack down and am about to take a seat when I remember the house rule: you must wash your hands before eating. So, I head into the bathroom and wash them as fast as I can and hurry back to the table.
“Just in time,” Mom says.
I inhale and exhale a deep breath. “Sorry I wasn’t back earlier. We went to the hospital to see those girls who were kidnaped.”
“The ones on the news?” Dad asks, raising an eyebrow.
I nod. “Yeah.”
Mom bites her top lip; I learned that from her. “Why would you visit them?”
“They were taken by the guys who were going to shoot at our house. So, we just figured we could relate a little.”
Dad frowns. “The police called this afternoon. Those guys are still in the wind.”
“That’s a scary thought,” I say, purposely making wide eyes. “Why isn’t a cruiser outside?”
He clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “They think they’re headed for Canada.”
“Why Canada?”
“Those girls didn’t tell you?” Mom asks. “Apparently, their captors said that’s where they were going.”
I half-smile. “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”
Mom squints like she does when she’s frustrated. “I suppose. I just hope they catch them.”
“Me, too.” I hate that my parents are worried about this. I wish I could just tell them that Robert, Marco and Jenna are no longer a threat.
“So, that was mighty nice of you,” Arja says. “Visiting those girls.” I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not. It’s hard to tell with her.
Dad eyeballs me as he rubs the bottom of his chin, which he usually does when he’s upset about something. “Would you like to say grace, Sharan?”
“Sure,” I say and force a smile. “Thank you Lord for blessing us with the wonderful food that we’re about to eat. And thank you for making us a loving and loyal family. Amen.” I looked at Arja when I said the word loyal and she looked down instead of making eye contact, which can’t be good.
“Amen,” Arja, Mom and Dad say then we start taking food from the bowls and passing them around. It all smells so good. Mom made her famous saffron rice, which has a unique, sweet scent like nothing else. Almost like candy. It’s an expensive spice, but always having it on hand is one of the few luxuries my parents have afforded themselves, this even though I’m sure their Dunkin’ Donuts business is quite the moneymaker.
We always wait to eat until everyone’s done taking their food. Normally, I think it’s nice, but since nobody’s really saying anything it feels like you could cut the tension with a knife. But I suppose if they knew I was a witch I wouldn’t even be allowed to sit at the table, much less have dinner with everyone.
“Why’s everyone so quiet tonight?” I ask, albeit reluctantly. If I am going to be disowned, I just want to know already.
“Your sister told us about what happened this morning,” Mom says as she puts the last serving bowl down.
I swallow hard and it feels like there’s a toad in my throat. A toad with spikes on its back. “Oh, did she?”
“Were you going to tell us?” Dad asks.
My mouth opens but instead of saying anything my jaw just drops. Then nobody says anything, but Arja half-smiles at me as she puts some mango chutney on naan and starts eating.
“Seizures are very serious,” Mom finally says.
“Seizures, right,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. She must have just told them about the seizure, not my being a witch. “I was going to tell you I just wanted to do it in person instead of text. Plus, today was so busy I wouldn’t have had time to text anyway.
“Sharan, was this morning the first time you’ve had a seizure?” Dad asks as he squares his shoulders again.
I bite my top lip. “I think so.”
“You think so?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” I say. I’ve had minor trembling before, especially during premonitions, but it’s been barely noticeable since they pumped us full of meds for PTSD, anxiety and depression. Stupid meds that seem to have taken away my ability to climax. Meds I certainly don’t want increased. “I mean, no, if I have they’ve just felt like the chills.”
Dad clears his throat then raises his voice. “Well, it sounds like what happened this morning was very serious.”
“It was,” Arja adds. I want to kick her under the table but I’m kind of in a position where I have to kiss her ass, less she change her mind and broadcast that I’m a witch.
“Your father and I have decided that you should see a specialist,” Mom says. “And it is not up for discussion.”
“OK,” I say. No point in arguing. Besides, I’m sure the specialist will say I’m fine because I only had that seizure during a premonition and unless I get another one while the doctor is examining me then they shouldn’t detect anything abnormal. Of course, with Emma seizures and premonitions go hand in hand. I hope this morning doesn’t mean it’s always going to happen that way with me. But since the three of us seized this morning, it does kind of seem like that’s just how it’s going to be.
Mom looks worried about me, which I hate. “I’m going to call Mallory tomorrow and see if she recommends the neurologist who saw Emma.” The Mallory she’s referring to is indeed Em’s Mom.
“I can just ask Em,” I say.
“No, that’s OK. I have some questions for Mallory anyway.”
“I see.” I take my first bite of Jaipur vegetables. So yummy. I especially love the way my mother makes it with extra cashews and paneer (an Indian cheese). That’s something I asked her to do one time and she’s made it that way ever since. Tastes like she took my advice and added salted butter this time, too.
“So, how was your first day at Greenmont High?” she asks.
“It was fine,” I say. “Uneventful, really.”
They ask for further details and I tell them as much as I can. Just, you know, not about how we could’ve made a guy’s head splatter or what Lia did instead. Eventually, they also ask how Krystal and Priscilla are doing. I explain how we had to split up because visiting hours were almost over, but that Priscilla seemed to be in an OK mood for someone who went through what she did. And that Juliana and January reported that Krystal is doing well, too. Then they ask me where I was all afternoon, since we were late getting to the hospital, and I say that I was studying at Li’s with her and Em. Can’t exactly tell them I went to a magick shop, obviously. Suffice to say, by the time dinner is over, I feel like I’ve just been interrogated, which is how I often feel coming away from family meals.
Arja follows me into my room after dinner, closing and locking the door behind us.
“I wish you wouldn’t have told them about the seizure,” I say, somewhat angrily.
She shakes her head. “Um, I think what you want to say right now is thank you for not telling them what else I learned about you this morning.”
“Yes, thank you. But, just for the record, I’m still a Christian,” I say. “I’m just, you know, too.”
She rolls her eyes, showing me her give-me-a-break face. “You do realize the Bible says you’re not supposed to allow a witch to live?”
“It says you’re not supposed to suffer a witch to live.” I
f I know better than she does about something, I have to say so. Otherwise, she’d be a complete know-it-all 24/7.
She crosses her arms in front of her. “Doesn’t that mean the same thing?”
In inhale deeply and blow the air out of my nose. It’s that or grind my teeth. “I’m sure you could find four Bible experts who’d all tell you something different. But why should I even care about that? The Bible says that homosexuality is a sin and I’m in love with Lia. So, I must be on the fast track to hell, if you want to believe everything it says in the so-called good book.”
Her eyebrows cinch together as she thinks.
I’m fully expecting this to turn into a major debate, otherwise known as a screaming match.
Her eyebrows relax and she actually smiles at me. “The church is a haven for pedophiles, so I don’t really care what they say anymore anyway.”
“Nice,” I say as I start emptying my backpack. “But that wasn’t your attitude this morning.”
“Shar, I was in shock. I never saw anyone use magick before. How should I have reacted?”
“I can appreciate that. I still remember my reaction the first time I saw Em do a spell.” I start taking my books out of my backpack. I did all my homework during the first twenty or so minutes of study, but I still want to review things in case there are any quizzes tomorrow.
She picks up my French book and starts flipping through it. “So, I did some reading today... Is Wiccan what I’m supposed to call you?”
“Em, Li and I prefer witch.”
“Really? For shock value?”
“No. It just feels more honest.”
“Funny you should mention feeling honest with all of the lying you’ve been doing.”
Mon Dieu. I thought she was being nice now. “I’ve kept one thing secret to keep the peace. One thing. That hardly makes me a liar.” I’m so livid that blood rushes to my head so fast that I have to sit down on my desk chair for fear of falling over.
“I understand you not telling mom and dad. Just not keeping it from me. I thought we told each other everything.” She takes a seat on my Poang chair, which I bought because I liked Li’s so much. “So, those people who want to kill you? How does witchcraft factor into that?”
“It doesn’t.” I know that makes me a liar, but it’s better than letting her know she could’ve been shot to death because I’m a witch. “Except for the fact that I had a premonition the night those guys were coming to shoot up the house and it saved your life.”
She looks confused, her eyebrows forming a uni-brow. “Don’t you mean saved our lives?”
I might as well level with her. “No, actually. You were the only one who was going to get shot.”
“Shit,” she says. She doesn’t know what to say beyond that. She just looks around my room a bit before her eyes stop on her lap and that’s where she directs her gaze.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told her that. But it is the truth. “So, I hope you see witchcraft isn’t all bad.”
“Why were those guys even after you though?” she asks, looking at me with a sour face.
“After the shooting, the Culour family – the one that lost three kids that day – they hired them to kill us. Well, they were supposed to terrorize us first but, yeah, eventually kill us.”
“I’d like to believe that,” she says. “I really would. But I think there’s something you’re not telling me. And who knows if or when they’ll come back, seeing how they escaped from the police.”
I shake my head. “Were you not paying attention at dinner? They’re headed for Canada.”
“How can you be sure they won’t send someone else after you?”
I look her straight in the eyes. “Because I’m psychic.”
“Seriously? You’re totally calm about this because you’re psychic?”
She sure is moody tonight and I’ve had just about enough of it. “Maybe I am. Besides, I thought you were going to be supportive a minute ago.”
“Before I knew I was going to get shot.”
“C’mon, that’s in the past. And my psychic witchcraft gift did protect you. Can’t you just leave it at that?”
She shakes her head. “Is it so wrong that I’m worried about my health and safety? And yours?”
“I wish this morning had never happened,” I say. “Clearly, knowing I’m a witch is too much for you.”
“Don’t say that.”
I raise my voice slightly. “Well, it seems you can’t handle it. So, why don’t you just forget it?”
She doesn’t say anything. Of course, she can’t just forget it. Not on her own. But I can help with that. Forget it, forget, forget it, I push on her. You didn’t learn anything this morning. It was a regular morning. Nothing special. Nothing to remember. Shar just had a mild seizure. That’s all. Otherwise, it was an ordinary Monday morning. Forget anything else you think you learned.
We sit here in silence a beat. I wonder if it worked. I bet it didn’t. I doubt I can hypnotize anyone without Li or Em’s help.
‘”I just thought of something!” Arja suddenly exclaims like she’s just had a major scientific breakthrough. This can’t be good.
“What?” I ask. Forget it, forget it, forget it. There’s nothing up with Shar. Your sister is a normal, awesome sister. Lord and Lady, please make her forget I’m a witch. Let the word never leave her mouth, as if it’s been stitched.
“Shit,” she says, scratching her arm. “I can’t remember.”
“Seriously?” I ask. “We were talking about this morning.” I have to test her to know for sure if I’ve hypnotized her.
“I remember now,” she says, making my heart skip a beat or three. Please help me, Lord and Lady.
I give her my full attention. “What was it then?”
She points at me and scowls. She looks like she’s about to accuse me of something. I must not have hypnotized her right.
I bite my top lip. I had a mild seizure. You told Mom and Dad. That’s all that happened this morning. You remember nothing else.
She stands up, still pointing at me. “You – you took another long shower this morning and mine went cold halfway.”
I find myself grinning and have to fight the urge to chuckle.
“You think that’s funny?” she asks, a vein in her forehead swelling as her face turns almost as red as mine was a minute ago.
I shake my head. “No, no. I was just thinking about something Li said. Sorry about the shower. I’ll be faster tomorrow, but can you get out so I can study now?”
“Fine, fine.” She gets up and leaves my room.
I lock the door behind her and breathe a huge sigh of relief. Speaking of which, it took me two years since I turned fourteen before my parents would finally let me get a door knob that locked. It was one of my sixteenth birthday presents, which my parents thought was funny. I pretended to laugh but, really, I was livid that it had taken them so long to truly give me my privacy. Of course, now that they know Li and I are together they won’t let me lock it when she’s here. They do let me shut the door at least. But, seriously, every time we hang out and it’s just the two of us my mother will think of a reason to come knocking on my door and she’ll open it before I even say come in. So not cool.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EMMA
Mom made spaghetti out of squash tonight. Not to be confused with spaghetti squash. Spaghetti squash is a type of squash that looks like it has spaghetti inside of it. It’s especially yummy with cinnamon and brown sugar. But what my mother cooked tonight is this spaghetti you make by pushing zucchini and yellow squash through this contraption that looks like it was made for Play Doh and it comes out looking like spaghetti. Surprisingly, it tastes like it, too. And it’s so much healthier than regular pasta. Not that I consider pasta bad for you. I just like the squash version better lately. My mother made it with a nice, chunky sauce with lots of red bell peppers and black olives. She also made meatless meatballs. So yummy.
Mom, Dad and I are sitting
at the kitchen table, though we’ve been finished eating for twenty minutes. When we were done Dad gave me a few whistles on key chain necklaces for Lia , Shar and I. They call them rape whistles because college girls wear them so they can sound the alarm if some creep starts chasing them or anything. Dad said it’s just in case those guys or anyone else from that devil-worshiper’s cult come after me. (Dad knows J was a witch. He just doesn’t know I am, too.) At first I was like, what good is a whistle really going to do me? So, he told me to blow it. Ouch! It is so loud and piercing! It makes your ear drums feel like they’re going to split wide open and bleed. You’d have to hear it to believe it. It’ll definitely get someone’s attention, that’s for sure. The only problem is it gave me a flashback from the shooting for two seconds when it started screeching. I saw myself lying on the floor, looking at my hand, which had just been shot right in the middle and hurt like hell. It only lasted for a moment though, the sheer volume of the whistle snapping me back to reality just in time for me to stop blowing it before causing myself any permanent hearing damage.
“You should wear it around your neck at all times,” Dad says. “Just for now at least. Until they catch those guys. I’m sure Lia and Shar will agree that it’s a sound idea.”
I laugh. “A sound idea. Good one, Dad.”
“Emma, will you help me with the dishes?” Mom asks, getting up.
“I can get them,” Dad says, also standing up.
“I’m sure Mom and I can manage,” I say.
He sits back down. “OK then.” He picks up a medical journal that arrived in the mail today. That’ll keep him busy for a while.
Mom and I bring the dirty dishes from the dining room into the kitchen.
“Should we use the dishwasher?” I ask. For some odd reason, my parents prefer to do them by hand most nights, but I’m so exhausted I just want to get what’s about to be an awkward conversation over with already.
In Memoriam Page 12