by Jane West
Without warning, the white wall had vanished before my eyes. And in its place appeared a room filled with candlelight. “Holy Jehoshaphat! ” I stood gaping. I knew my neighbor worked with herbs and stuff, but this was far deeper than I’d imagined. When my eyes lifted to Ms. Noel, I blurted out. “You’re a witch?”
Ms. Noel tossed one of her usual warm smiles. “Have a seat, Chile.” She extended her arm, pointing to a chair at a table.
My feet felt glued to the floor as my eyes washed over the room. A strange feeling crept over me. I knew once I stepped across the threshold that I’d be embarking upon a paradox of something that didn’t make sense to me. Yet, I knew without a doubt that it existed. A world I feared nor wanted.
Slowly, I raised my hand to feel for any trace of the wall. Yet the only thing my fingers touched was the air. I gasped, realizing my eyes weren’t playing tricks.
Having the curiosity of nine cats, I eased a step over into the room. Though I was terrified, I was even more captivated. I wrinkled my nose turning back to Ms. Noel. “This can’t be possible?” My common sense kept denying what my eyes were seeing.
Ms. Noel’s body jiggled as she laughed softly. “Chile, the possibility has never been in question.” She placed her hand gently on my shoulder. “It’s always been at ya reach. Just open ya eyes.”
“Ms. Noel, I don’t understand.”
“Stevie, do ya trust me?” she asked.
I gave pause, eyeballing the dim room. I lifted my gaze back to her. “I do, but this is all scary to me.”
“Babee, there is nothing to fear her’. I give ya my word.” Her smile reached her eyes.
“Okay, I’ll try.” Although my heart was pounding against my chest, I took a leap of faith and settled in one of the two chairs that were the closest to me. Ms. Noel followed, seating herself directly in front of me.
Shadows flickered from the candle light making the tight space seem even eerier. I sat quietly, observing every nook and cranny. There was a library of various books on casting spells. A deck of tarot cards and a crystal ball placed in a neat stack on the table. I’d never had my palms read, or my future glanced at through a crystal ball. Reading books and listening to stories about witchcraft was one thing. Dabbling was a whole different story. In my opinion, fortunetellers were rip-off artist like Legend Red. The dude Sara swore was legit. Even though I trusted Ms. Noel, I wasn’t sure how I felt about this now.
“Catin, how ya are?” she smiled. “Ya lookin’ a little feeble.”
“I’m okay. I guess.” I rattled on. “I mean, this is sorta freaky.” I pointed to the hundreds of symbols that papered the interior walls.
“Catin, I’ve got ya, babee!” her eyes gleamed. “I’ve been knowing magick best part of my life. Believe me when I say ya safe.”
“I don’t know.” I still wasn’t convinced. “Why me?”
Ms. Noel’s face brightened. “Fannie is wantin’ ta speak ta ya.”
“Your dead sister?” my heart leaped.
“Yes, she has a message from someone on the other side.”
“The other side?” My blood suddenly turned cold. “Like someone dead?”
“Yes, do ya have a family member who’s passed?” Ms. Noel’s blue eyes were too penetrating.
“No.” I hated lying to her, but I panicked.
Ms. Noel’s face held suspicion. “Do ya trust me, Catin?”
“It’s not you I’m worried about.” I hugged my waist.
“Have ya enjoyed my stories?”
Oh, that wasn’t fair. “Yeah! But, I wasn’t in them.”
“But do you trust me?” She repeated the question, holding her gaze to mine.
I hesitated. Trusting Ms. Noel wasn’t the problem. What I didn’t trust was what I couldn’t see. “I trust you.”
“Ya have hesitance?” she studied me.
“Uh, kind of, I guess.” I shrugged.
“Catin, has ya mom’nem’ ever talked ta ya?”
My brow arched, “About what?”
“About ya life, babee.”
“Ms. Noel, I’m not sure what you’re getting at. My mom’s been dating this dude from her job.”
“Chile, it’s not about her keepin’ company. It’s about the death of ya father.”
My mouth dropped. “How did you know about my dad?”
Ms. Noel interjected. “The spirit world speaks ta me, babee.”
“It's not really a secret.” I shook my head. “A girl at school knew about my dad’s death.”
“Babee, don’t mind that girl, Gina!” Ms. Noel swatted at the air. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout information that might help solve ya father’s case.”
“A ghost told you about my father’s murderer?”
“Portions, yes.”
“Portions!” I leaned forward. “What have you heard?” I was creeped out, but she had my attention now. If there was a led to my father’s murderer, I wanted to know.
“Ya father’s death was deliberate.” Ms. Noel’s words were uncanny.
My breath lodged in my throat. “The authorities suspect that it was a drunk driver.”
Ms. Noel paused. “The driver wasn’t bug-juiced.”
I sat up straight. A chill touched my neck. “But the police reported otherwise.”
“Catin, sometimes the police gets it wrong.” She paused, “Your father’s death was not recent.”
Tears began to sting. “I was eight,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry, babee.” Her voice was soothing.
“Thank you.” I looked away. I needed a moment. The loss of my father was still raw. I’d been lost without him.
“If ya will permit me, I’d like ta call upon Fannie. She’s been askin’ about ya.”
I wasn’t quite on board with speaking to Ms. Noel’s deceased sister. “Can you just tell me what she says?”
“It doesn’t work like that in the afterlife, Catin.”
I sat there chewing the inside of my lip, mulling over whether or not I should give it a shot. With a sigh of defeat, I caved. “Okay, let’s do this.” I still had my qualms if this was a good idea. Yet I couldn’t walk away. What if Fannie could shed new light on my dad’s case?
I watched as Ms. Noel placed a lit candle in the middle of the table. She lifted her gaze back to me. “Take my hands, Catin.” Her stark eyes held mine as she waited patiently.
Without an utter, I did as she asked. Our hands clasped together tightly like concrete. My pulse was off the hinge, but I wasn’t backing out now. I’d stepped over the threshold, and I wasn’t going back.
Ms. Noel began with a strange incantation. The words were similar to Spanish, yet different. I think she was chanting Latin.
The room began to grow smaller by the minute, or it could’ve been my paranoia skyrocketing. I kept my eyes glued to Ms. Noel’s face. I already was ready to jump out of my skin.
Somehow, I managed to sit quiet, watching. Ms. Noel proceeded, calling out to her sister, “Fannie, we here. Come ta the light and speak ta us.” The candle in the center of the table began flickering every which way. Eerily, there wasn’t even a stir in the room. I’d began warring with my internal self that I’d made a terrible mistake.
With no warning, Ms. Noel fainted. Like a domino effect, her body went limp in the chair, and her head thumped against the table. I jumped with a start, eyes wide. “What the hell?” I mumbled. “Ms. Noel, are you okay?” My words rushed with panic. Jesus! She’s dead! “Ms. Noel?” I called to her again and still no reply. My eyes raked over her, praying for any sign of life. After several heartbeats, I caught the slight rise and fall of her chest. “Whew!” I blew out. My heart felt like it was going to burst.
This was a bad idea. I needed to end this séance now. Frantically, I tugged on my hands, trying to pry myself loose. Although, my efforts were futile. Ms. Noel’s ironclad grip was much stronger than I was. I was trapped!
With a sudden jolt, Ms. Noel’s head shot up. Her eyes had gone white! “Holy hell!�
�� I yelped. Fear slammed into my chest as I froze. This took spooky to whole different level. Feverishly, I yanked to free my hands.
Then everything escalated beyond my wildest dreams. Ms. Noel began thrashing about, her head bouncing, veins jutting from her temples. I swore if her head swiveled and she started speaking in tongues that I was cutting my hands off at the wrist! All I could think about was the warm air against my back as I pedaled away on my bike to safety.
To my surprise, Ms. Noel calmed like still waters. Her eyes began blinking. Her pupils returned to normal. She appeared cognizant. “Chile, someone else is interfering with my sister’s contact.” She dragged in a saw-tooth breath. “Do you know anyone by the name? She squinted her eyes tight. The name sounds like John, only it’s spelled differently.”
My eyes orbed. “My dad!”
“Yes, J.O.N.” she spelled it out his name. “Jon is trying to speak. Hold on!” her head bowed as the cords in her neck strained. Suddenly Ms. Noel’s shoulders went rigid as if there was a war waging inside her. Alarmed, I didn’t know what to do. I held myself to the chair, watching through horrified eyes. All of a sudden, Ms. Noel lifted her eyes back at me and spoke. “Ya Father is talkin’ about a soda parlor and Bubble Gum Jubilee.”
“Oh, my God!” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That’s my favorite ice cream!”
“Now he’s talkin’ about a boy. He keeps repeatin’, ‘faceless boy.’”
I gasped.
“He’s warnin’ ya! Keep away from him.”
“A faceless boy?” How could anyone know? The hairs on my neck stiffened like a Brillo pad.
“Yes, the boy is wearing something shiny.”
I noticed the solemnity behind her glint.
“A ring with an eye!” Ms. Noel explained.
I nearly choked on my own breath. It was as if she was reading my mind. “No. I don’t know anyone wearing a ring as such.” I lied.
Ms. Noel narrowed her eyes. “Chile, don’t be story tellin’!”
Dang! She called me out. Technically I wasn’t lying. He was merely a dream. “I’m not lying. I swear!”
“Your father has a message fer ya.” Her eyes closed once more. She stilled. Then she opened her eyes. “He says fer ya ta sit up and pay attention! He's irritated.” Ms. Noel relented.
Those were his words! Freak-the-fuck-out!
Ms. Noel continued, “He’s tellin’ me that the faceless boy, the ring and a very powerful family, an ancient family, are spooling spells of dark magick over ya.”
“Seriously!” I nearly laughed.
That was when things really got hairy.
“Does the name genetic mean anything ta ya?” Ms. Noel asked. Her face was calm and somber.
I blinked back my confusion. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Your father keeps sayin’ genetic. It must have significant meaning ta ya.”
“No! I haven’t a clue.” As strange and foreign as it sounded, there was an inherent familiarity to it. Yet what?
“Hold on!” Ms. Noel closed her eyes. She seemed to struggle internally. Her eyes darted wildly behind her eyelids. Abruptly, she stopped. Her eyes flew opened, landing her eerie gaze on me. “Ya father claims ya are not of his blood.”
Irritation slammed into me. “What is that supposed to mean?” I hate cynicism, but it seemed to me that Ms. Noel was in Neverland.
“Wait! He’s saying beware!” Her pale blues were glossed. She continued, “This ancient Family has invested a great deal in ya. They’re not gonna let ya go until they have taken what is theirs. Some kind of gift ya possess.”
Needles pricked my skin. “A gift? What throwing spit wads?”
Ms. Noel ignored my snide comment and forged on. “These evil hide in secret.”
Fright squeezed my chest. “Ms. Noel, you’re scaring me!”
“Chile, it frightens me too!” Her breath was short and strained. “Your father is speakin’ about your mom’n’em now. He says ya should ask her why she’s running.”
“My mom isn’t running. She’s bi-polar.” This was a total waste of my time. Whata let down. I’d hoped there might be information surrounding his death.
Just as quickly, the séance had begun; it was just as quickly over. Ms. Noel released her grip, and I was free. I drew my hands to my chest, rubbing them. The numbness was easing up as they began to tingle.
Then my attention drew back to Ms. Noel as my eyes swiped over her. The color in her face had gone pale. The séance had drained her. She flashed a weak smile. “Lord, have mercy on me! That was one strong spirit.” She patted the beaded sweat from her forehead.
My brows dipped into a worried vee. “Are you okay?” Considering Ms. Noel’s age, I feared she might’ve exhausted herself. “Let me get you some water.”
I spun on my heels, rushing to the kitchen. I went straight for the fridge and found a pitcher of water. I hurried to find a glass. Once I finished with that I then reached for a dish towel and grabbed several ice cubes from the freezer. I wrapped the ice in the cloth and tied it up.
In a flash, I returned to Ms. Noel’s side. “Here! This might help you feel better.” I handed both the water and towel to her. “I thought the ice might help cool your temperature down.” I forced a smile.
“Thank ya, Catin!” Ms. Noel flashed a faint smile, and tipped the water to her lips, sipping it slowly. After she had finished, she sat the glass down on the table and placed the ice pack on her forehead.
“Would you be more comfortable on your bed or the sofa?” My heart was in my throat.
“No, Chile. I’m fine, really.” She patted her face with the cool towel. “Mercy me! That was a doozy.”
My mind was swirling with fraught. “Ms. Noel, let me help you to your bed.” Even though this wasn’t my idea, I felt riddled with guilt. I should’ve protested, refused, and walked away, anything other than sitting here letting my good friend go through this torture.
Ms. Noel patted my hand. “Babee, I’ll be just fine. Don’t ya fret none!”
My lungs were starting to open, and I was beginning to relax. Ms. Noel’s skin color was returning, and gaining her strength back. I smiled, though I still was very concerned with my dear friend. “Okay. Do you want more water?” I started reaching for her glass, but she patted my hand.
“No, baby, I’m fine. I do need ta speak ta ya about a pressing matter.”
My brows furrowed. “What is it?” I was at my max for any more problems. My head felt like it was spinning into oblivion. This was my first séance, and my last.
“Honey, I don’t mean ta upset ya. But ya need ta listen. Ya should have a fast talkin’ with ya mom’n’em.”
I rubbed my temples. My head was throbbing. “I really don’t want to talk about my mother.”
“Babee, I understand. I don’t like havin’ ta tell ya this either. But I think ya mom’n’em is hiding information concerning ya father and ya birth. Ya father kept sayin’ “ask ya mom’nem about his death and ya birth.” That was his last words before his spirit vanished.”
My lips flattened, tight with tension. The topic of Sara always sent me into orbit. No one could subdue her spirit. I admit I was no match for my mother. “Ms. Noel, I doubt Sara can barely hold a thought. She’s bi-polar.”
“I git what ya sayin’. But ya need to know that ya mom’n’em is carrying a secret. She’s been holdin’ it long before ya birth.”
I appreciated her concern, but I didn’t have it in me to address my issues with Sara. I shook my head, hand held up in protest. “I know you mean well, but my mom dances to her own tune. Half the time she’s off her meds and to be honest, I don’t think the meds work. She is who she is, and I can’t change her.” I shrugged, feeling heavy with guilt. “I just deal.”
Ms. Noel’s expression was full of empathy. “I’m sorry fer’ ya troubles, babee. But I think it’s in ya best interest ta hear me out.”
I suddenly pushed away from the table. The air felt stifled. I needed fresh air “T
his is enough!” I held my palm up. “Sara is an enigma! I know she harbors secrets. She’s been like this since my father’s death.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “I had accepted her behavior a long time ago. Asking her questions will get me nowhere. If she is holding some life-changing secret, I’ll never know what it is. Sara will go to her grave before she confides in me.” I blew out a frustrated breath.
“Stevie ”
I hated myself for hurting Ms. Noel’s feelings. Even still, I had to speak my mind. I interrupted, “I don’t understand any of this stuff.” I paused. “You’ve had your whole life to make sense of the paranormal. I’ve had five minutes. I’m not even sure I believe in spirits and ghost and magick. How am I supposed to accept something I know nothing about?”
“I know it’s hard for you to believe right now, but you will come around.”
My friend was convincing. Yet I wasn’t ready to accept the world of weird.
“I don’t know. It all seems so stretched.” I shrugged.
“Babee, it will take time.” The plea in her voice was so profound that it broke my heart.
“I love your stories, but I can’t swallow all this in one setting. Heck! I’m not sure I believe in God. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to excuse myself.”
“Of course, Chile, I wouldn’t hold ya against ya will.”
I hugged Ms. Noel at the door. I didn’t want her to think I was angry with her. I started to push passed the screen, but I hesitated. Unable to face my dear friend, I tossed over my shoulder, “I know you have my best interest, and I love you for it. You’ve been more than kind to me. But,” I swallowed. “I’m sorry that I can’t believe like you.” Tears began to well up, and I ducked out before I made a fool of myself.
Buried Secrets
I darted inside the diner, scurrying past customers and heading straight to the far back booth. I flopped down into the seat with an irritated huff. I rested my head on the cool table and closed my eyes. My heart was beating erratically.
It was utterly crazy believing an eighty-something-year-old woman’s tall-tales about a stupid ghost. Then how the hell did she know about my dreams, the faceless boy, and the ring? Come to think about it, how did Ms. Noel know about a lot of things? She seemed to have this sick sense. Yeah, I meant sick. Creepy much? Setting aside my feelings for Ms. Noel, I had a hard time swallowing her far-fetched beliefs. What did I know anyway? I never fretted over my lost soul or bothered putting faith in a God that I’d never met.