The Root of Magic

by Kathleen Benner Duble

  Willow pauses with these words. He is right. For someone who has suffered in battle, knowing must be like salve to an unexpected wound. Willow gets this.

  “Okay,” she says slowly. “Yes, maybe you’re prepared. But you are still giving up your right to choose how your day goes. You are letting a berry and magic waters decide that for you. Don’t you want to be in control of your own destiny? Why would you let a bush decide your life for you?”

  “Because it hurts not knowing,” Cora yells. “When someone leaves you or something terrible befalls you, the shock hurts. It’s comforting to know what will happen before it does.”

  “Besides,” Angeline says, “it’s our fate. And you can’t change fate, Willow. I told you that before.”

  Again, Willow recognizes some sense in what they say. Cora, having been hurt, wants no more of it. Can Willow blame her? And Angeline has grown up with this way of life. She knows no other.

  And yet something inside Willow rebels and revolts. She cannot give up calmly and let this predetermined way of life win. And so she tries again.

  “When you fall in love or have your first kiss, isn’t the surprise of that awesome?” she asks. She sees Topher redden. He laughs a little, and she smiles at him. Topher, at least, understands, and this understanding lifts her spirits. “I mean, yeah, maybe you lessen the pain, but don’t you also lessen your joy?” She thinks of the day spent sailing across the lake with Topher, the surprise of it. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  She looks at her mom. “If you always know what’s coming, how can you have the amazing pleasure that comes with the unexpected?”

  Her mom says nothing.

  The colonel steps forward. “That’s enough, Willow. You can talk all you want, but this is the life we have chosen. The one we all want, including your mom. Now it’s time for Topher to say goodbye. Be about it, son.”

  Topher closes his eyes for a minute, takes a deep breath, and then turns to his mom.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” he says again, but this time his voice is shaking. “But I just can’t.”

  His mother nods. Although she knew they would probably be here this morning with this decision, tears are still pouring down her face. “I understand. But I also hope, Topher, that you appreciate why I’m staying. They need me here. I grew up with them. I cannot abandon my town and my people.”

  Topher nods. “Of course I get it, Mom. Have you forgotten? I grew up here too.”

  She nods, and then he leans in and gives her a fierce hug. She hugs him back for a minute but then pushes him away. “Go,” she says. “I’m glad your dad’s here. I can rest easily knowing he’s taking care of you.”

  Topher nods. Then he swings around and gives Joe Joe a hug. Finally, he leans down to pick up Taddie.

  “I don’t understand,” Taddie cries when Topher whispers goodbye. “Why do you have to leave, Topher? Why can’t Dad just come over the bridge? We could all stay here, couldn’t we?”

  Dr. Dawson takes Taddie from Topher’s arms. “It’s okay, Taddie. I promise you that I will explain all this to you in time. It’s okay now. Topher is just going to live with Dad for a while.”

  “Time to go,” the colonel says, coming to stand beside Topher.

  Together, the colonel and Topher begin to walk away, heading toward the bridge. Topher’s father moves closer to his side in order to meet them as the woman, Annie, begins carrying boxes of supplies across. As they near the edge of the bridge, Topher shrugs off the colonel’s arm and runs toward his dad, who grabs him up in a bear of a hug. Their happiness in seeing each other rings right and true.

  Willow takes a deep breath. Now she must make her decision. Her time has come.

  Willow looks over at her mom. Her mom sighs, a sigh full of sadness and knowledge. She is well aware of what Willow is going to do, and Willow sees tears begin to stream down her mother’s cheeks, just like Dr. Dawson’s. And Willow wonders in that moment if her mother’s broken heart might hold Willow in place, if she has the strength to see this decision through.

  But then she looks at the townspeople, standing there, watching her, also held in place—but by a prison of their own making. They too know what she is going to do. But they will not even try to stop her. They do not have the courage to even try to battle the magic.

  And in that moment, Willow is sure. She can’t live like this. In her life, Willow will decide her own future all by herself.

  She takes a step toward the bridge.

  The townspeople wait. They know.

  “Willow.” Her mom’s voice breaks on Willow’s name, and Willow almost lets out a sob. How did Topher find the courage to do this?

  Maybe if she tries one more time.

  She turns and walks toward her mother. “Please,” Willow whispers. “Come with me. We can be a real family again.”

  Her mom looks at her, and Willow feels her waver.

  “Starr,” Cora calls out. “Must we remind you that you’ve eaten a berry? If you try to change the future, you will suffer.”

  Willow’s mom looks back at Cora, and slowly, she nods.

  “I can’t,” she says to Willow. “I need to be here with Wisp, to know how he is.”

  “But if you stay, we’ll never have a chance to be together as a family again,” Willow says.

  “I know, but by staying, I’m also giving Wisp a certain life,” her mom reminds Willow. “A life where I can be the kind of mother I should be—fun, like I used to be before I began worrying every day. Wisp deserves that.”

  “And if he chooses to leave in a few years, when his time comes?” Willow asks.

  Her mother sighs. “Then at least I will know that I have done what I needed to do as a mother.”

  Willow doesn’t know what to say to this. There is nothing else she can think of to convince her mother.

  “Willow,” the colonel says, “if you’re going to go, then you need to do it now.”

  The colonel’s bossy tone irritates her. She reaches out defiantly, pulling on her mother’s and Wisp’s hands. She leads them both closer to the bridge, away from the townspeople.

  Willow kneels down in the snow. She looks her brother in the eyes. “On the day you turn thirteen,” she says, pointing to where their father waits for her on the other side, “I’ll be there. Dad and I will both be there, waiting, on your birthday.”

  Wisp nods. “I know you will.”

  Her mom nods too, smiling a little.

  There is nothing more to say. Willow stands. Her mother reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from her face. Willow bites back a sob, and her mother quickly wraps her arms around her. Willow holds her mother tight, breathing in her mother’s scent for what might be the last time.

  “Willow. Now,” the colonel calls to them.

  Willow bites back a snappy retort. After all, he is right. She has to leave sometime. So she forces herself to break away from her mother and turns to her brother.

  “I’ll miss you,” she says. She hugs him close.

  He whispers, “I’ll work on Mom. Somehow I’ll get her home. I promise. It’ll be okay, Willow.”

  “How?” Willow asks.

  Wisp smiles. “I’ll figure it out. Go. Dad needs someone too.”

  He steps back—the little boy all man now.

  “Go,” he commands her. “Go with Dad.”

  Willow bites her lips. Tears tickle the corners of her eyes, but Wisp is firm. Finally, Willow nods her agreement.

  She turns and begins to walk quickly onto the bridge, wanting to reach her father and Topher and his dad before she can change her mind.

  But halfway across the bridge that separates Kismet from the rest of the world, Willow turns for one last look.

  Her mother’s eyes are swollen with sorrow.

  “I love you, Mom,” Willow calls back to
her mother, “but you know, living like this means you’ve let fear win. So you see, you’re just like Dad, who couldn’t face the hard stuff either.”

  Then Willow turns again and begins to walk across the last half of the bridge. But she has only taken a few steps when she hears a voice.

  “Willow! Wait!”

  Willow turns.

  “You’re right,” her mother calls to her.

  Willow pauses. Has she heard her mother correctly?

  But already her mother is grabbing Wisp’s hand and running toward the bridge, pulling him with her.

  Willow’s heart begins to gallop. They are coming! Her mother and Wisp are coming!

  “Stop!” the colonel yells into the surprised silence suddenly surrounding them all. “Stop, Starr DuChard! This isn’t to happen. You are not to go!”

  But her mother keeps running.

  It doesn’t take long for the townspeople to overcome their shock at this change in their predicted future.

  “Stop her! Get her!” come the cries.

  James and the colonel run after Willow’s mom and Wisp. Having brought her to Kismet and fed her a berry, they are not about to let her go.

  Willow watches, stock-still, barely able to breathe as they chase them. Her heart pumps in sickening beats and bursts. Will they make it?

  Her mother is slower than her brother. If she does not pick up speed, James will have her in hand soon. Her mother must realize this too.

  She lets go of Wisp, pushing him ahead of her. “Go!” she yells at him.

  Wisp does not need to be told twice. He runs, his little arms pumping, his little legs churning. Soon he is at Willow’s side. She grabs him, turns, and pushes him back toward their father.

  “Go!” she yells to her brother. Then she turns back toward her mom.

  Her mother is on the bridge, and Willow is almost certain she will make it, when suddenly, her mom lets out a piercing screech and drops to the ground, grabbing her head.

  “Mom!” Willow yells, panic swelling her insides.

  Her mother tries to lift herself up, to find purchase enough to stand. But she can’t seem to manage it. Instead, she lets out another shriek and rolls into a ball, her arms pressed to her head as if a great weight is crushing her skull.

  “It’s the magic!” Topher cries behind Willow.

  Willow’s mom tries again. She pushes herself to her knees, crawls a few feet more, and then lets out a third and final painful cry before slumping over.

  James and the colonel have reached the bridge now. But just as they go to step onto it, they too are forced to their knees. The magic trying hard to force everyone back to their predicted fate.

  Willow’s mom seems to have given up. She is no longer rising. Willow begins to run to her, when the bridge starts to shake beneath her feet.

  “Willow!” Topher yells. “The bridge is collapsing!”

  She doesn’t want to stop, but panic rises in her. Has her moving made the structure less sturdy? Their car drove onto this bridge. How is it possible that Willow can have this strong an impact just by taking a step?

  But she can’t leave her mother there on a bridge that is falling to pieces.

  Then her mother uncurls from her ball. She struggles to rise once more. She inches forward and then tumbles again. The bridge groans and shakes.

  Willow’s heart pounds as she weighs her choices.

  “You have to get her!” Topher yells to her again.

  Willow knows he’s right. If she doesn’t rescue her mother, she could end up where they almost were thrown that first night they came to Kismet—in the rushing magical waters below.

  “Stay away, Willow!” the colonel shouts to her, holding his head, grimacing in pain. “Your mother is not meant to go with you. The magic has made that clear to us all and to her. You are to leave. She must not.”

  Her mom raises her head wearily. “Go on, Willow,” she calls into the rising wind. “Take Wisp. Get out of here. I’m going back. I can’t fight this pain, and I did make the choice.”

  Her mom pushes herself to her feet, turns, and begins to head back toward the waiting townspeople, who even now are nodding with satisfaction at this decision.

  But Willow cannot obey her mother—not this time. This time she will not just do as she is told. This time she will fight. She will be the gladiator her mother has always been for them. Willow will not let these townspeople and their magic berries decide her mother’s fate. Their family future is for their family to decide!

  At last, she makes herself move, to run to her mom, and with that choice, her feet seem to fly. She knows she is in a race against Kismet, for the colonel and James are already waiting, waiting to snatch her mother as soon as she nears the end of the bridge.

  Willow pushes harder. She is close, so close.

  She reaches out and grabs her mother’s arm, yanking her away from the end of the bridge, and begins to pull her back toward the other side. Her mother lets out another scream of pain and drops to her knees again, but Willow continues pulling her toward her father and her brother, toward a life unknown.

  “Stop!” the colonel demands. “Bring her back, Willow! Can’t you see you’re hurting her?”

  But Willow will not listen. She will not stop. She will never stop trying to reunite her family, to live their life the way they decide.

  She drags her mother after her, pulling and tugging. Her mother’s body is limp from the pain, and her heaviness weighs on Willow.

  “I can’t. I can’t help you,” her mother cries. “I’m trying, but the pain is so bad.”

  “You can, Mom,” Willow says. “We can do this. You’ve always been our fighter. But today, we’re going to fight this together.”

  A rumble of thunder reverberates in the distance. The bridge gives a shudder. A flash of lightning splits the world around them in two. Thunder rolls down from the mountain like a monster about to eat its fill.

  “We won’t make it,” her mother says, her teeth clenched from the pain in her head.

  “We will,” Willow says. “You’re not alone. I’m here, and together, we can do this, Mom. Fight, Mom. Fight to be with us.”

  Her mother tries to stand again, struggling with everything she has against the pain that is the result of rebelling against the magic, this town, her fate.

  A crack sounds behind them.

  “Willow, hurry!” Topher calls. “The waters are destroying the bridge.”

  Willow swallows hard and pulls again on her mom’s arms.

  Then, suddenly, there is someone else there.

  Willow looks up. Her father has come for them. He has come out onto the bridge. He has come to save her and her mother. At last, her father has found the strength to help them.

  Together Willow and her father lift her mom, draping her arms across their shoulders. They drag her toward the other side as the bridge slowly collapses behind them. The sound the structure makes as it disintegrates is like the sound of an avalanche.

  They run, bumping along with Willow’s mom between them. And when they finally, finally, reach the other side, the bridge, at long last, gives way completely, the whole thing magically disappearing in the end without a single sound.

  * * *

  They stand on either side of the divide, staring at one another: a townspeople united, a family reunited.

  They each have their beliefs, and who is to say which is right?

  “You had better keep your mouth shut about what you’ve seen,” Annie warns them before heading to her truck. “I’m out here, so I’ll be keeping an eye on you. Don’t you forget it.”

  “We won’t say a word,” Willow’s mom manages to choke out.

  Willow looks over at the other bank, with no way to reach it now, and nods her agreement. The secret of the magic in Kismet is safe, and really
, who would believe her anyway?

  Across the gorge of the river, Willow watches the colonel and Cora, Layla and James, Old Woman Wallace and Angelina and Grace turn away from them. Slowly, they and the others make their way back up the mountain toward a stone wall that lies hidden from most humans, to a locked gate that keeps the town contained in their certain and safe world.

  Only Dr. Dawson remains for a minute more. She raises her hand to her lips and sends a kiss to Topher. He sends her one back, tears in his eyes. Then his father comes and puts his arm around Topher’s shoulder.

  “Come along, son. Let’s go.”

  Topher looks at Willow. “Will I see you again?” he asks.

  Willow smiles. “Of course. Who else could I talk to about what happened? I’ll need to see you just to be sure I didn’t dream it all.”

  Topher laughs. Then he turns to his father. “Okay, let’s go home, Dad.”

  Home.

  Willow watches Topher walk toward the car that will take him to his, and then she turns toward what she hopes is still her car.

  Her father is holding her mother, whose color seems to be returning now that she is firmly on this side of her decision. Her parents cling to each other like storm-tossed survivors, which is what they are.

  Willow watches as Wisp squeezes himself between them. He gives her a thumbs-up.

  Willow would like to smile too, but she still isn’t sure if her parents will ever knit themselves back together again completely. Yet in leaving Kismet, they have all decided that they are willing to accept that uncertainty.

  The future lies before the DuChard family now—undetermined, unpredictable, a blur of possibilities, a potential pit of dangers, probably some sorrows, definitely some joys.

  And Willow knows then, with the confidence that only someone who has seen her future can know, that the true magic of life lies in those days that are not yet known.

  Stories start with a seed of an idea, send out roots in a writer’s mind, and finally blossom when pen is put to paper. But all manuscripts, like young plants, need dedicated gardeners to help them grow. I have had some wonderful ones during this book’s maturation.