by C. D. Gorri
“Actually I’m not lost.” I gripped the arm he had resting on the door. Must have hurt because he struggled to get my hand off. I could smell his amusement quickly turn to fear. I tightened my grip just a little.
“Are you lost?” I asked. My voice just a tad dark. He looked up at me and that’s when his scent turned acidic. Fear went into panic. He started yelling and I let go of his arm. I may have smirked a little. The driver gunned it and the sped away.
“Great way to keep from making a scene, Grazi, sheesh.” Alessio was only half joking. His dark eyes continued to dart about.
“Come on we’re almost there.” We followed Alessio through the dank cold alley for another few city blocks. I heard music before I saw the old wooden door.
It was loud and exotic, like guitars and bells. Someone was singing in yet another language I didn’t recognize. This was starting to be a thing with me.
Foreign languages and stuff like that. Time for me to make an investment in a few Rosetta Stone packages. Though I didn’t think they had ancient Armenian which is what I was told she was singing.
The smells came soon after. Fragrant spices and meat cooking. Like some sort of beef stew. Ronan’s stomach growled. I smiled up at him. He remained stoic. Okay, fine. Be that way. Alessio took what looked like an old skeleton key off a chain from around his neck and opened the door. It made a loud creaking noise.
“Angelina, you’re at it again, huh?” Alessio smiled fondly as we walked inside.
“Alessio! You’re back!” A voluptuous young girl of around 13 or so threw down a guitar and pressed a button on her lap top before jumping into Alessio’s arms.
“Nice to see I’ve been missed little cousin!”
“Did you see my last video?”
“Yeah, you’re gonna be a star, cuz! Where’s puri daj? I’m here with my friends.”
“Oh. You guys are the Werewolves, huh? Cool.”
Ronan and I looked at each other and I focused on the girl in front of me. She was lovely. Her skin was a creamy caramel, her eyes hazel green and her hair a mane of dark brown curls. She smelled a little like apple pie. Hmm, magic.
“Yes. We are. How did you know?”
“Are you kidding? You guys smell like-”
“Okay! Anyway Lina, get puri daj.”
“I was going to say you guys smell spicy like cayenne pepper. It’s how Wolves smell to us I guess.”
“I think you smell like cinnamon.” She smiled at me and winked at Ronan.
“That one is cute!”
“Um thanks.” Ronan’s blush was becoming, red hair and all. It was funny to see him squirm under the younger girl’s scrutiny. I found her charming and honest in her flirtations. I liked her.
“Puri daj! ‘Lessio’s here, he brought Werewolves!” Angelina shouted across the small cluttered house. She winked again at Ronan then took off up a narrow flight of stairs guitar in one hand, lap top in the other.
“Alessio! My grandson finally makes his way home, eh?” A deeply accented voice came from what I assumed was the kitchen. That’s where all those wonderful smells were coming from. My stomach growled and I felt my cheeks get hot. Can’t take a Werewolf anywhere.
“Bring your guests in here. Let’s feed them, yes.”
Alessio walked hurriedly into the small kitchen. It was painted a deep shade of peach. There was a large pot of some kind of beef stew bubbling on one burner and a pot of noodles on the other. An older woman, maybe around sixty stood stirring the pot.
She was very attractive with her long dark hair streaked with gray in the front. It was pinned up on top of her head in sleek curls. She wore no make-up. Her olive toned skin was smooth and unlined. She wore a pair of black slacks and a red blouse. Small gold earrings hung from her ears.
Not the gypsy I was expecting. I felt my face get hot. Embarrassed by the stereotype that I had played in my mind. You know, a short, chubby woman, long skirt, kerchief on her headful of white and black curls, tons of eyeliner and red blush. Maybe a glowing crystal ball. Anyway.
“Puri daj! Thank you for welcoming us here.” He bowed slightly then at her amused look he walked over and embraced her, placing a kiss on each of her cheeks.
“This is Grazi and Ronan. They are my friends.”
“Indeed, they are. You may call me Madame Magdelena.” She kept her eyes on the stovetop as she stirred and added spices to the pot.
“Yes, well, sit down everyone. Here have some ghoulash, you are all hungry, I see.”
Ronan and I sat down at the old wooden table and thanked her for the food. She dished out huge bowls of noodles with a heaping scoop of spiced beef on top. I took my first bite and was sunk. It was amazing. Ronan and I had seconds before she would speak to us. It didn’t take long for a Werewolf to eat.
“You are full? Good. Now we begin.” She cleared the table and sat in front of us. The smell of cinnamon became stronger as she looked at me.
“You are special, little Wolf. Trushal odji, you want to know many things. Give me your hands.” Ronan tensed. She looked at him and smiled. It was not a comforting smile exactly. I sensed this woman’s power in that smile. She may be helping us now, and yes her magic smelled good, but she was old and powerful and allegiances change.
“I am not going to harm the princess, young Hound.” She spat the word as if it burned her tongue.
“Though your kind has done no favors for mine. I have fed you and you will be protected under my roof always. It is our way. Your hands, little princess.”
I looked at Ronan, his eyes met mine. I could see in their green depths that he wanted to leave. But he stayed, silent and strong. For me. Thank you.
I reached across the old table. My hands did not tremble though I was nervous. I hadn’t had any dreams since I put up the dreamcatcher. But I knew I couldn’t hold them off forever.
Alessio stood behind his grandmother. His arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. Could he be trusted? I still wasn’t sure. But it was too late to turn back. Her hands were cold, but strong.
“You doubt me, child?”
“It’s not you. I mean, I’m Catholic, I’m not supposed to believe in this stuff.” She smiled widely and I saw she was missing a tooth on the right side all the way in back of her mouth.
“You are so young, so naive. The Catholic Church is completely based on the most incredible supernatural story of them all. Jesus Christ, killed for all the world’s sins and then rising from His grave and up to Heaven, body and all? Some people would say that is unbelievable, no? Besides that Catholics believe in other supernatural things too. Virgin births? Apparitions of the Holy Mother, possessions by the Devil, visitations, exorcisms, stigmata. It is a very old religion and has many stories like this.”
“I never thought about it like that.”
“Yes, well, few people do. Though there are plenty of atheists in the world. The point of religion is to have faith. Nowadays people want to see proof on Youtube or Twitter. But can faith ever be proven?”
“I guess you prove faith just by having it.”
“You are wise, little Wolf. Now, I have bad news.” I tensed at her words. I felt Ronan’s anxiety increase. It made the room seem smaller, a little claustrophobic actually. I tried to calm both of us by simply breathing in and out.
“It looks like you have been marked by the Hunters. I see you already had a run in with them. Hmm. There will be more. You must prepare yourself. Ah. Here it is.” She let go of one hand and took some powder out of a small jar that suddenly appeared on the table. She sprinkled some fine powder into my right hand. It swirled and moved until forming a circle right in the center of my palm.
“That is your magic line. You are more than Wolf, princess, you are a Dreamwalker too. Tell me, your family where are they from? Where does your Wolf side stem from?”
“My family? Well my dad was from Ireland, he was a Hound. My mom was just, regular I guess, she was born in New Jersey.”
“And what about her parents?”<
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“Her parents were from Italy.”
“Italiano. I see. I see. You know there is a long history of the Romani people across Europe going back thousands of years, my girl.”
“Okay. What does that have to do with me?”
“We have picked up many different things from many different cultures. I had a great-uncle who was part Italian. He used to tell tales of the sorghum witches who used to steal babies and make all the crops in the villages suffer.”
Great, now it was story time. I wanted to move my hand out of her grasp, but she held firm. I sat silently. Listening as respectfully as I had been taught.
I remember in second grade having to listen to the most boring story about the succession of popes three times in one day because some kids were chatting during the lesson. It was the worst school day of my life before high school and social anxieties started to creep in. Anyway I remembered that day now. Zip your lip. Lesson learned.
“I recall him talking one dark night as all the children, me included, gathered around a campfire. He told us how the Benendanti would turn themselves into wolves and hawks and other half-man, half-animal creatures. They would then enter the land of dreams and with fennel stalks fashioned into weapons, they would beat back the sorghum witches and return the babies and the crops to health. It was a cyclical battle. Every six months or so they would be required to fight.”
I listened very carefully. Benendanti. I had heard this word before. From Nonna. Ronan interrupted my thoughts.
“And if they didn’t win?”
“If they did not win. The babies were never seen again and the village would die out from famine and pestilence.”
“So you think I may, what? Be part, Benendanti? Is that it?”
“Could be. I’m not sure. This circle in your hand represents the Moon. Your Wolf in you is strong, but there is other magic too. If you are truly walking into dreams then this is a possibility, eh? It makes sense. The only question is why? Why would you be drawn to this particular setting?”
“I don’t know. Because I’m supposed to fight the witches?”
“Maybe. I suggest you let it happen again. This time tell Alessio before you take down the dreamcatcher and I will dreamscape for you.”
“Okay. Thank you, Madame Magdelena.”
“You are most welcome. But be warned, something is coming, child. It is dark and angry and I sense it wants you, but for what purpose I do not know. You should be careful.”
“I will be.”
The following week at school was busy. The end of the quarter always is. Teachers seem to feel the need to give extra tests and assignments as if it is their last chance to prove we are learning something. I walked out of English lit with a frown. I’m not sure I got across all I wanted to about the Weird Sisters. You know, the Witches in Macbeth. They were sort of prophets that set into motion his ultimate destruction. On purpose? Maybe. Possibly. Hmm…
I bumped into someone and straightened myself out. It was Sebby.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I had never been good with awkward moments and now was no different. I could smell his anxiety and it made my stomach tighten.
“How was the exam for you?”
“Um, it was okay.”
“Yeah, huh. I know you’re a brain, so no worries, right?” I smiled a little at his attempt at humor.
“Look Sebby, I,”
“It’s okay Grazi, let’s just be friends. We were good as friends.”
“I’ll always be your friend, Sebastian. I promise.”
“Good.” He pulled me into a quick hug and I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. That is until I looked up and met a pair of angry emerald eyes.
Ronan turned his back and stormed off. Where? I didn’t know. To his next class? Highly unlikely. I left Sebby with a forced smile and followed after Ronan. Call it Werewolf intuition, but I knew where he had gone.
The soft strains of the piano sounded down the South hallway and I followed them. I entered the music room as quietly as I knew how. It was empty. The curtains were drawn except for one right near the piano bench. Soft rays of the fall sunlight fell on Ronan as he played. It made a thousand shades from brown to red to blonde through his hair. It reached his jawline now in thick and wavy locks.
I so wanted to reach out and brush it back with my fingers. Across his ivory forehead. He had lost all of his tan by now and his skin was pale and even. My own was olive toned. I wondered how I looked next to him.
His eyes were closed, but his hands. They moved skillfully over the black and white keys. Pounding out a tune I had never heard. Pouring out all of the emotion I couldn’t see in his closed eyes, but I could feel in my heart.
I didn’t know what to do. What to say. So I just listened. My feet moved of their own will it seemed until suddenly I was standing at his back. One hand hovered over his shoulder daring to land. Ronan, why? Why now? How can I explain to you what you mean to me when I don’t know?
The door slammed and I jumped a step back. Ronan’s eyes flew open and he almost knocked over the bench as he sprung up.
“Sorry dears.” It was the cleaning woman. She pushed her cart full of strong pine scented cleaners and bleach and proceeded to empty out the garbage bags.
“It’s okay. We need to get to class, anyway.” I reached out and took Ronan’s hand and he let me. I felt my blush, but held on tight. Something about the old woman was creepy and I just wanted to get out of there. I wanted to talk to him. Run with him.
The cleaning lady hummed a little as she bent to empty another small trash can. What a sucky job. Especially when you’re too old to really move about. I walked over and helped her pull a fresh bag from the roll on her cart after watching her struggle with it.
“Thank you, dear.” She smiled at me. It was a hideous smile. She only had about three teeth and I felt deeply ashamed of myself for being so vain. Looks didn’t matter. This was an older woman who needed a little help. I smiled back and turned and found Ronan waiting for me.
His eyes never left me. My heart thudded in my chest. When we got out into the hallway he took my hand. He pulled me along the corridor until we were outside.
“Wait, we can’t leave.”
“And why not. That was your last exam for the day wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, but there’s Phys. Ed. and then I have a free period.”
“Come with me, Maria.” He held out his hand and I took it.
No deliberation, no thinking about it. I took it. And it was warm and strong and fit mine perfectly. He smiled brilliantly and we were off. Out the side door that never quite closed.
I had never done anything like this. I never skipped school. I felt wild and free in ridiculously happy as he pulled me along into the woods behind the Church.
We walked and walked until we came across a stream. That same one we had jogged to just a few short weeks ago. Was it really such a short time? It felt so much longer now. I felt like I had known him forever.
He held my hand and drew little circles on the back with droplets of cold water. I sat in between his legs, my back to his belly. It felt so right. I don’t think I can describe it. I wanted to stay there. My back pressed against him, my hand in his. He took his left arm and wrapped it around my waist. He buried his face into the side of my neck and I felt him breathe me in.
“You always smell so good, you know that? Like my nan’s gingerbread cake and the beach at sunset and fresh cut grass all at the same time.”
“You smell good too.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Like the forest. And something else. It’s spicy and sweet all at the same time. I don’t know. I like it.”
“That’s good then.”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
“So, you were saying goodbye to him then? Weren’t you?”
“I told Sebastian the only thing I could offer him is my friendship. I meant it.”
“Friends? I guess I can live with that.”
“Good.”
“But what will you be to me?”
“I don’t know.” That last bit came out whispered. It seemed foolish to give us a name, a label. I turned my head so that I could look into his eyes. He met my gaze. For once he didn’t avert his eyes out of respect or whatever you want to call it.
We simply stared at each other. It was probably only a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. His emerald eyes held flecks of gold fire and in them his Wolf greeted me. I felt mine respond in kind.
I reached up with my hand and put it around his neck. I pulled his head down to me. It felt like the right time. His lips met mine. Softly and sweet. Mine. Ronan is mine.
That night I got home late. We had blown off the rest of the school day entirely. Uncle Sean was not thrilled, but he let it slide since we went back to the house for practice.
If you had asked me a few weeks ago what to expect after spending a few hours with Ronan, I would have said it was impossible. There was no freaking way. He was always just so abrupt and rude. Funny how a kiss can change everything. And I have been thinking about his kiss since that very first time in his room.
I had never been so happy. I should have known I was going to have to pay for it. The sun had set hours before I hopped the fence into my yard. Ronan right behind me. I sensed something wrong immediately.
“Want me to come with you?”
“Can you get to my room and wait for me there?” He nodded and walked around the back. I entered the kitchen to find Uncle Vito with a pile of ledgers and my grandmother weeping into a handkerchief.
“It’ll be okay, mama. The man is wrong. I never made such a mistake, I swear it!” Uncle Vito pleaded with his mother. Disbelief and shock in his voice.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked Nonna. She looked up at me. Her eyes tired and her heartbreak clear in them.
“It seems that accountant of Vito’s. He made some mistakes, Grazi.”
“What do you mean mistakes? Like in the taxes?”
“Si, the IRS, they come here before. They say we owe them $240,000. They say Vito’s landscaping is not worth that much, so they take the house instead.”