“Hold your dick,” Sarah said, keeping her voice low. He obeyed, grasping it with both hands. “Don’t talk. Not a word. Hold your dick and your words.” The dark matter flowed into Sarah now and only the audience stopped her from making the spell worse, forcing her to speak quietly and calmly. “Hold your dick and your words until you cry with regret.”
The kid squeezed himself and mouthed something vulgar at her.
Sarah smiled at him, whispering, “So for a while then, jackhole.”
“What’s going on here?” Accompanied by unhappy audience members, two ushers shone flashlights into Paul and Sarah’s faces. “Take your seats, everyone! The sooner you sit down, the faster you can get back to your movie.”
Sarah waited until they had climbed over seats and past legs to where she stood glaring at the skinny dick holder. “They started it,” she said with power in every word. “They should go to jail. Look what that kid is doing.”
The kid yanked at himself as though trying to pull his hands away, but it only made his movements look obscene.
“What about him?” said an old man to Sarah’s right, pointing at Paul. “He punched that kid.”
The dick holder nodded.
“Paul’s a vet,” said Sarah, as though that explained or excused it. With a small cast it did. More ushers came and escorted the dick holder and his complaining friends away. Talking eventually died down and attention returned to the screen.
Paul glared at Sarah as she settled in for the rest of the movie. Neither of them touched their drinks or popcorn or whispered again. The theater took on the strained ambience Sarah would have expected from the first. Dark matter kept her from focusing on anything but Paul. It swirled around him as though it had found a new residence and only needed a way inside.
Braced for the aftershock, Sarah never expected the full force of her very own spell to rebound and slam against her. It blindsided her, shoving her further against the comfortable seat and knocking her soft drink to the floor. Unnatural heat warmed her thighs and she slid her hands up the length of them. Only sheer witch stubbornness kept her from embracing the spell and exploring between her legs. Paul watched her from his peripheral vision as she slid her hands up her body and brushed against her own breasts. She managed to jam both hands beneath her armpits and trap them there, fighting the spell as it bore against her in its entirety. Dark matter stabbed angrily through her breasts and crotch, protesting her lack of cooperation.
I will NOT play with my own tits!
Spells didn’t often rebound. Fuming, Sarah tried to think why this one had. That kid sure as hell wasn’t so full of light he could repel a spell so quickly. Maybe someone of light prays for him—a lot! Whatever the reason, she knew that wherever he was he no longer clutched his dick, since her fingers now longed to clutch a non-existent penis of her own. Swearing mentally, Sarah no longer noticed the movie.
Unable to keep her hands trapped beneath her arms, she wrestled in her seat until she managed to sit on them. Paul crossed his arms and turned away, his focus pointedly on the screen. His obvious anger made the tears in Sarah’s eyes run down her cheeks and, just that fast, the spell broke. Until you cry with regret. Her own words set her free, but instead of relief Sarah wanted to stomp her feet and swear in frustration.
The movie ended at last and they followed the crowd out into the lobby. Without a word Paul went into the men’s restroom and Sarah queued up for the ladies’ restroom. She kept her hands beneath her armpits, prepared for the overdue aftershock, and waited impatiently. There was zero temptation to cast her way to the front of the line.
A familiar voice sounded from behind her. “Hey, lesbian girlfriend.”
Everyone looked, and Sarah turned to grin at Mindy from work, her mood lightening.
“Hey.”
“Was that your boy-toy I saw pounding on some twerp in the middle of my movie?”
“It was.”
“That’s good. We were all getting bored just watching our sixteen dollars a person movie that we paid for.”
Several of the women in line shot unhappy and judgmental looks in Sarah’s direction. “Sorry.”
“Whatever. Can’t believe you don’t know who the blue guy is. I’m probably breaking up with you for that. If I’d been sitting in front of you, I’d have punched you myself.”
Sarah grimaced. “See you Monday?”
“Not unless you’re holding donuts and you edu-ma-cate yourself about who the blue guy is.” Mindy got out of the unmoving line, lecturing as she made her way to the door, “Reabsorption. It’s a thing, happens when the line is long enough. Makes blue eyes green, because yellow mixed with blue makes green. Did you know that? See what color mine are? Yeah? Not green, are they?” Mindy tried to make her way past the crowd of women clogging the entrance to the ladies room. “You might want to move so I can get out of here before something worse blows out.”
PAUL DROVE HOME. Sarah didn’t mind. She scooted low in the passenger seat and put her feet on the dashboard, pretending that his silence didn’t hurt, but it did. The aftershock had finally hit and cut up the inside of her mouth. It bled a bit.
Miles before the house Paul steered the Jeep off the main roadway and parked it beside a still black pond with an old gristmill on the far bank. A bright moon hung silver and low over the trees. The last time Sarah had been here, the cops had been dragging the pond.
“We shouldn’t stop here.”
Paul took a sip of his giant Dr Pepper. “I want to know why it was okay for you to do what you did, but not me. Because I probably would have punched that punk a few times and he’d have shut his mouth. What you did—Sarah, people are going to think he has either a mental condition or that he’s some sort of sex offender. You went too far.”
“I didn’t want you to get arrested.” The truth of Paul’s words hurt, but she kept her answer short.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me the truth? At least not the whole truth?”
Sarah shrugged, staring through the Jeep’s square window. There didn’t seem to be any point in telling him that the spell hadn’t affected the kid for long, nor in explaining a rebound. Not unless he’d noticed and asked why she’d watched the movie for a while with her hands beneath her jacket, tucked up inside her bra. After a moment of quiet she swallowed a bit of blood and said, “See that ring of light around the moon? It looks huge tonight, but the truth is the night sky is made up of dark matter with only that much light to hold it at bay until morning.”
Paul leaned forward to squint over the steering wheel. “There’s too much light pollution here to really see the night sky as it is. This is practically an optical illusion. There are so many stars in the Milky Way that in many places the sky glitters with light at night.”
Sarah recalled nights spent with her family when they’d traveled to other places. She’d seen the skies Paul spoke of. But there was a saying witches liked to quote. “‘Dark always wins because there’s so much of it.’”
“You can’t think like that. It isn’t your job to win the war, Sarah. It’s only your job to win the battle.”
“Are you quoting me soldier advice?”
“I’m quoting you logic. What’s wrong with your mouth? You’re talking funny.” He leaned forward to gaze at her in the faint light of the dashboard. “Your lips are swollen.”
“It’s the price for casting.”
Paul widened his eyes and hit the light on the ceiling, turning it on. “Open your mouth. I want to see.”
Sarah obeyed, watching his expression. His dark brows pulled together and he growled, “God, Sarah. It looks like someone took razors to your mouth.” He hit the light again to shut it off and put the car in gear. “Let’s go wash that out with salt water. Does that always happen?”
“Mmphf. It varies.”
”Does it last long?” Paul pulled the vehicle onto the main road.
“That varies too. Depends on how big I cast.” And what torment dark m
atter is in the mood for. Sarah watched the woods flit past the window as the car sped down the road. She blinked back tears of pain. Choosing to ignore aftershock pain wasn’t an option. Dark matter didn’t make anything that easy.
ENTERING THE FRONT door while juggling the mail, newspapers, and his large soda, Paul tried to tug his key out of the new door lock and dropped his Dr Pepper. The edge of the giant cup hit the marble of the foyer as Sarah turned her eyes toward it and automatically corrected the mistake. Willing liquid and ice back into the cup and the lid onto the rim came second nature. The cup shot back through the air in an arc and came to rest in Sarah’s hand. It wasn’t until she turned her eyes in Paul’s direction that she realized how shocking it might be for him. “I’m sorry. I’m so comfortable with you I didn’t think.”
“No,” he managed, his eyes wide as he managed to dislodge his key and kick the door shut behind him. “That’s actually incredibly cool. I guess you really are a witch.”
Sarah laughed. “Are you just figuring that out?”
Paul led the way into the kitchen, flipping on light switches. He turned on the hot water tap and went to the cupboard, selected a small glass and grabbed the salt shaker. “Come here,” he said, motioning to the sink. “I’m making salt water for your mouth.” He tested the heat of the water on his wrist, filled the glass and unscrewed the top of the salt shaker.
Sarah cringed at the amount he poured into the water. “That’s going to be disgusting.”
“Wo-man up, witchy-woman,” he said, swirling the water in the glass to mix it. He handed it to her. “Swish it around, and use all of it.”
Scowling, Sarah took the glass. The first mouthful burned, likely more than it would for the average person. Salt had light properties and her mouth had so recently been full of dark matter. Eyes watering, she spit the first mouthful into the sink. Paul leaned against it, watching the blood-tinged water swirl down the drain as she took another mouthful. It surprised Sarah to sense that the sight of that little bit of blood upset him.
“I had a really bad time in Afghanistan.”
Sarah didn’t dare look at him. This was the first information he’d ever offered.
“After it was over I kept having a bad time. I’d dream about it, but sometimes in my dreams things went differently. Nobody died. We won the battle. I wanted it to be true. Some days I’d pretend that’s how it had been. I’d pretend so hard that when doctors talked to me about it, I’d refuse to admit the truth. I got so good at pretending there was a time I couldn’t tell what was real and what was what I wished.”
Sarah spat more pink-tinged water and set the glass inside the sink. Paul continued to lean against the sink, both hands squeezing the edge of the granite counter. She put a hand over Paul’s, her fingers covering the horse’s nose.
“When that explosion hit that truck at Target I thought it was a bomb. You were on the ground and when I spoke to you, I don’t know. I knew it wasn’t a bomb then. You were so matter of fact and the things you said were almost funny. It took the edge off for me. Even after you left later I kept looking at the front of my dad’s car, reassuring myself that you’d been real. I did have to come back and see you, because I wanted to make sure I hadn’t imagined you.
“The first time I came here you were so off the wall with the Popsicles and all. I made a copy of your insurance card and came back again as an excuse to see you…”
Shit. Sarah still didn’t dare look at him. It was the spell.
“That time I came I heard you screaming—I was shaking by the time I got upstairs. I don’t know what I thought; you sounded terrified. But there you were standing over a box just wailing. I think I’ve done that myself, when I’ve heard a loud noise and flashed back. I knew I could help you. It felt good. It felt real. It reminded me of when I used to be capable, when I was an EMT. I was good at it. Once. But then you did all that weird stuff, and I had to get away. I thought maybe I needed to go back to the hospital. That my mind had completely snapped.”
Sarah looked at him then. “I’m so sorry, Paul. So sorry.”
“I didn’t want to go back. I blocked everyone from calling my phone and thought maybe if I just took a break, you know—anyway, that’s why I stayed in the park. I mean, I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t have enough money, but I could have called someone. It’s just that ever since the hospital my family has been really protective. It was a big thing for them to agree to let me come pick up the stupid car. They gave me prepaid credit cards, so I couldn’t get taken advantage of, they said. But I had to use all that to get the car repaired. Sometimes it feels like they’re more worried about their money than me.”
“Damn.” Sarah almost hugged him. She moved to do it, but changed her mind and quickly backed off.
“Anyway the only reason I called you when I was in jail was yours was the only number I knew.” Paul laughed, a whispery sound. “Since I’d deleted their numbers. And I like being here. It’s peaceful. There’s no pressure on me. I thought maybe we could do each other some good. The truth is I figured you were a little bit nuts too.”
Sarah leaned against the sink beside him. “Yeah, well, I think you have that right, Paul.”
He let go of the sink and dropped an arm across her shoulders. “Tonight at dinner when you did the spoon thing, I was worried. But then I saw nothing unusual. I mean some dust I guess, but I knew that was real. Then at the movie theater, that kid. Man, he made me mad. You know I see punks like that who are just looking for trouble while good men die. It’s such a kick in the—you know some people give everything, and they don’t expect anything in return, except maybe a little human decency.” There were tears in his voice. “I’m glad you stopped me though. I might have really hurt him. I don’t know. But when you did what you did to that kid, in front of all those witnesses—well, I knew then that I wasn’t hallucinating that unless the entire theater was. Shoot. You blew my mind.”
Sarah covered her face with her hands. See how stupid it is to tell? Idiot!
Paul moved in front of her and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her not into a romantic embrace, but a simple hug punctuated by a rough sob on his part. “Don’t. It helped. The Coke spill clinched it for me. I saw that. I saw you reverse that spill like I might grab something I dropped out of the laundry basket. It looked as normal for you as it would be for me to nab a sock before it hit the floor. I’m not crazy.”
“I’m sorry, Paul. It’s kind of an unspoken rule not to tell regular people. I shouldn’t have.”
“No! Everyone needs help and a friend, Sarah. I’m not saying I’m okay. That kid at the theater, man. I need to get those feelings under control. You do too, though, you know? You shouldn’t just make some dude grab his junk and hold it in public.”
“I know.”
“But the Coke thing was cool. Can you do it again? It’s one of those things you can do without using dark matter, right?” Paul let go of Sarah, grabbed the glass of half-used salt water out of the sink and whipped it across the kitchen. It hit the fridge and shattered all over the floor.
After a moment of stunned silence she said, “You are so cleaning that.”
“You’re not very good,” he said. “I thought you’d stop it or maybe you can put it back together or something.”
“I didn’t know you were going to do it!”
“So time travel is out?” Paul said, chuckling. “Or can you take us back a few seconds and nab that glass before it hits?”
“Yeah, right.”
“Dang.” He scratched his cheek. “For a second I thought it was cool to have a witch friend. Now, not so much. Kinda lame.”
Sarah smiled at him. “Everyone’s a critic!”
“Good night, Sarah.” Paul gave her a half hug and kissed her cheek. Sarah closed her eyes, smiling even wider. It wasn’t until they’d departed, Paul cleaning broken glass, and Sarah heading upstairs to her room, that she realized that kiss was sweet and needed, but Paul’s lips didn’t feel like any
thing more than her aunt’s once had.
Sarah slumped in the church pew, trying not to worry the sore spots inside her mouth with her tongue. The salt water had helped. This morning she had used it again and it hadn’t burned as badly.
The congregation moved to kneel and Sarah scooted forward onto the cushioned kneeler. A guy in the pew in front of her kept half his butt on the seat. Cheater.
Since she’d scored the last row this week, Sarah scooted back a bit and copied him.
Yesterday Paul said he’d go to church with her, but when she stuck her head into his room this morning he’d answered everything with “Huh-uh.” Except the hike. He gave a definite “Mmmm” when she asked if he’d want to go back to the gristmill in the daylight and hike around. Maybe it’s time to put that much behind me. It’s not like I believe in ghosts. The thought made her snort. The guy in front of her glanced back and Sarah looked around, pretending it hadn’t been her.
Eyeing the sunshine lighting up the stained glass windows overhead, Sarah contemplated the love spell. The thought of Paul leaving—and he would leave once his dad’s car was fixed—and going back to Oklahoma made her sad. It wasn’t because she would be broken hearted and need to follow him, but because every day she looked forward to spending time with him.
Face it. He’s my first real friend.
Maybe I could find him a job here! He said he couldn’t get an EMT job after being in the psychiatric hospital, plus the sight of blood upsets him. But I bet I could—
That sounds exactly like obsessive casting to keep your boyfriend close, doesn’t it, stupid?
She groaned. An old lady and the guy with his backside half on the pew in front of her turned to look. Sarah stared at the missal, pretending to read along with the priest’s droning.
This is so boring!
Like witch ceremonies aren’t?
Maybe that’s why I’m so at home here…
Of course dark matter didn’t congregate here. It dusted over several people, and a few handfuls waivered around one of the altar boys. Some lay on the floor around the confessionals, and a small cloud of it hovered over one of the shrines full of candles, but nothing like at a witch ceremony. The entire purpose of those was to draw dark matter closer to use. Aunt Lily had hosted them at vacation destinations. The witches who came would cast on themselves and each other and leave looking like they’d been to a discount plastic surgeon in a foreign country.
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