“People can’t see them for what they are. Only you can. They don’t know the Oppressor is making them feel bad. It’s kind of like being in an abusive relationship. You start to blame yourself for all the bad in your life.”
I thought about the creature in the woods and the despair overwhelming me as the creature came closer.
“Destiny couldn’t stand it anymore. The despair, the depression, and the pain she saw every day. Sometimes she didn’t even know who to warn.”
“What do you mean she couldn’t stand it anymore? Did she lose her gift?” It still sounded odd to use the word gift in reference to this.
“No, she decreased the likelihood she’d have to use her gift by avoiding people. We don’t read the newspaper or watch television.” Chance paused. “Destiny hasn’t left our house in ten years.”
“Ten years?” I couldn’t even imagine it. I’d never lived longer than a year or two in one place. Let alone stayed in one residence without going further than the back yard. I’d probably go stone cold crazy. No wonder she seemed so naïve.
“Yes, ten years. That is, until today.”
“What do you mean, until today?” I walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside, but no one was there.
“She’s downstairs, waiting with George for Ruthie to get up.”
“Don’t you people ever sleep?” I leaned back against the wall cradling my empty coffee cup, wishing I had more.
He shrugged. “Our nature is to be more nocturnal because most of the Oppressors are out after dark. George was, of course, thrilled with the company. That’s why he wanted you there so bad when I went for the coffee, to compare the two of you.”
“I hope she likes dolls.” I cringed recalling their watchful plastic eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing. Why’s she waiting for Ruthie? I thought Ruthie was sleeping.”
“She is now, but not for long. That woman catnaps all the time. I don’t know where she gets the energy at her age.” He chuckled. “When I ask her, she says she plans to sleep when she’s dead and not before then, if she can help it.”
I wondered if Ruthie still thought that way now that she’d seen Tessa. Perhaps, she’d better rest now. She may not get as much sleep as she anticipated.
“Ruthie is expecting us later.” Chance smiled sheepishly. “Ruthie is going to give Destiny a haircut. I hope you don’t mind. It was my idea. I told her I’d already asked you first, that’s why I came up here to tell you in case you were upset.”
“What are you talking about? Why would I care if she gets her hair cut?”
Chance walked over and popped open my refrigerator and stuck his head inside, checking out the meager choices.
“Go ahead, make yourself at home.”
“Hey, we’re family, right?” He shut the door, an apple in his hand.
I shrugged. “I guess. I’m not used to sharing with anyone but Tessa.” Anger flooded into my gut, knowing I’d never share anything with Tessa again.
“Anyway.” Chance bit into the apple and wiped at the juice, dribbling down his chin, with the back of his arm. “I gave Destiny a way to go out without as much fear.”
“How did you do that? Some kind of spell?”
“No, I’m not good at spells.” He plopped down on the sofa. “I told her to cut her hair like yours, so when she does go out, people won’t know it’s her. They’ll think it’s you.”
“Me? How is that a good thing? How would most people know what she looks like anyway if she hasn’t been out in ten years?”
“I know that, and you know that, but I don’t think Destiny does. Or it’s kind of a psychological thing. Convincing her the haircut may work. She admires you. I think the new style will give her confidence.” He shrugged. “I don’t care what it is. I’m just happy to get her out of that house.”
“I guess.” Admires me? That’s a first.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“No.” I didn’t know how I felt. I wasn’t used to having a brother to think about, let alone a sister who looked exactly like me. Except with her having better skin and less worry lines, of course.
“Good, cause Ruthie wants to touch up what she referred to as that shaggy mess on your head.” Chance held up his hands at my glare. “She said the words, not me.”
It wasn’t as if I could disagree, since I’d done it myself. I’d considered it looked a little rough and wild, in an intentional way, of course. “So Ruthie is a hairdresser, as well?”
“No, she just—”
“Knows. I know. She just knows.”
As if on cue, there was a tap on the door and Ruthie burst in with her usual manner, stopping midway through the doorway. “There you are.” She announced, as if I’d been hiding and not in my apartment. The top of Destiny’s head was visible behind Ruthie’s bulk.
“I figured you weren’t going to come down, not with your fear of all my little girls.”
“I never said I was afraid of them.”
“I know. You didn’t have to.”
“Is there anything you don’t know?”
“Reckon I’d find out if I did.” She laughed, holding her hands to her jiggling belly. “But I do find it a might amusing you’re afraid of some little dollies of mine but all gung ho to go out and fight off any bad guys. Even without you knowing much of a lick about them. Now that’s what I call gumption.”
She smacked me on the back with such enthusiasm I almost toppled over. “I’m not afraid of them.” Irritated with how weak and whiney my voice sounded, I consoled myself with the knowledge that almost everyone had a fear of something.
“Anyway, I came up here with my shearers to get that mop you got touched up.” Her expression appeared set and prepared for a challenge.
“Please, don’t try to spare my feelings.” I glared at Chance as he tried to hide his smirk. But it was kind of fun, in a way, to have a brother to bicker with.
“I have been sparing them, girl, by putting up with looking at that hairdo long enough. I wanted to let you get comfortable before I put a sharp object near your neck.” She laughed and snapped the scissors open and shut a few times. “Why did you do that to your beautiful hair anyway? I’d imagine it looked somewhat how Destiny’s did before you went to town on it.”
I glared at Chance, then back to Ruthie, still reluctant to believe he had influenced me. “I don’t know. I felt like I had to color it, and that my hair should be black.”
“Yes.” Chance fist pumped into the air.
“What was that for? Wipe that sappy smile off your face. That wasn’t you. I decided to change my hair.”
“Okay, if you want to believe that.” He nodded. “Pretty good for my first long distance effort. I concentrated so hard, but didn’t know if you heard the message.”
I gave up on my stance. “Loud and clear, that migraine almost killed me with all of your influencing. Don’t even think of trying to manipulate me again. I’m not your guinea pig.”
Ruthie examined my hair over the rim of her glasses. “What in the world for? She had beautiful hair until you convinced her she was a hairdresser. Not everyone can just know how to do things, you know.” Ruthie cocked her hip.
“I wasn’t sure if any of the Oppressors knew what Destiny looked like, and I didn’t want Hope walking in unprepared,” Chance said.
Ruthie nodded. “Like I said. I knew.”
Footsteps shuffled on the porch. “It’s cold out here, Ruthie. Do you think you could go in so I can get warm?” Destiny said.
Ruthie stepped the whole way in to the apartment so Destiny was visible.
“Wow.” Destiny’s hair looked amazing as my natural red color with black streaks layered throughout. “That’s the exact style I meant to replicate.”
“I know,” Ruthie replied smugly and clicked her scissors together a few more times.
“I’m sure you did.” I finally understood how Ruthie’s magic worked. It displayed differently for everyone, as Ch
ance had said. Plus it wasn’t anything like I’d expected when I thought about magic. I guess it would be hard to explain something like Ruthie’s abilities.
Destiny tentatively touched her hair, her gaze cast to the floor. “You don’t mind?”
“No. It looks beautiful on you.” I meant every word.
“Thank you.” Destiny blushed, beaming. “It’s not like I’m going to say I’m you. I just want to keep people from staring and whispering about that weird recluse that’s been in her house all these years.”
Ruthie draped a cape around my neck and came at me with the scissors. I pushed at her. “At least let me sit down.”
Destiny sat down at the table beside me and wrapped her arms around her legs in front of her on the chair as if trying to make herself smaller. “Or ask me for lottery numbers.”
I met Ruthie’s eyes in the mirror as Destiny talked. It was the longest I’d seen Ruthie silent. It must be important to let Destiny talk, otherwise Ruthie and Chance would be putting in their two cents, or more like their ninety-nine cents. I was helping out my sister, and the approval was evident in Ruthie’s eyes.
It felt good, and I wasn’t doing anything but not objecting to Destiny looking more like me. It was flattering in a way that she wanted to look like me. I thought of Ruthie and Tessa and smiled. Having a sister could be nice.
Ruthie swept the cape off, and I met my reflection in the mirror. It was perfect. Not just the haircut, but because Ruthie stood behind me while Chance and Destiny flanked each side. It was like our first family portrait.
Chapter Fourteen
“Can I see it?” Chance stalked around my apartment. “The book?”
Ruthie and Destiny had left, and I’d wondered why Chance lingered behind. Now I knew. Ruthie must’ve told him about the book.
“It can’t hurt. Well, at least I don’t think so.” I reached under the mattress where I’d stashed the book, again. I could’ve tried to find another hiding place, but what was the point? Ruthie could find it again. I ran my hand over the cover, jerking back when a jolt ran through my body. It wasn’t from the uneven surface of the cover like I’d prefer to believe. It was from the book itself. Although, at the moment, at least the cover wasn’t burning hot. Chance stood behind me peering over my shoulder.
“Can I hold it?” He held out his hands in anticipation, and the enamored look on his face disturbed me.
The book looked ominous, evil. I shouldn’t have it. Damn creepy book acted like it was alive. I was the one who stole it. If it affected anyone, it should be me. I pulled the book out of his reach. “Let me have one more go at it first.”
I’d told Chance about Tessa’s impromptu visit, and we tried to get Tessa to return by standing in front of the mirror and calling for her and other relatives Chance knew, but it was useless. Perhaps they didn’t feel we had a need. Who knew? I could use advice from someone, anyone, who knew what we were supposed to do next. Maybe I could find answers in this book. After setting the book on the table, I grabbed the cover, pulling as hard as I could, but it resisted like it was glued shut. “I don’t understand. I opened it at Griffith’s house.”
“I don’t know why you went with him. I don’t like him.”
“Who? Griffith?” My stomach clenched when I thought of him. I didn’t want to discuss him with Chance. “I should’ve frozen to death instead? Or stayed in those woods with god knows what?”
“No, it’s not that. I agree, being alone in the woods is a bad idea, at any time. But there’s something about him. I don’t want you going to his house again or hanging out with him.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, really? Since when do you tell me what to do? He’s at the bar all the time and that’s my job. Making nice with the creepy guys there.” I smirked. “Besides, if I recall correctly from what you said, I’m the oldest. In fact, you’re the youngest.” I couldn’t resist. I stuck my tongue out.
Chance rolled his eyes, then extended his hand toward the book. “Let me try, I’m stronger.”
“Wait.” I dug in the utensil drawer, tossing aside plastic spoons, spatulas, and cookie cutters until I found an ice pick and tried to pry the cover open with it. Still nothing. Tercet hunkered, back arched, hissing at the book. Finally, something she disliked more than me.
I slid the book across the table toward Chance in disgust. “Have at it.”
Chance gripped both sides of the cover and pulled the book open, then beamed and flexed his biceps. I rolled my eyes.
Chance’s grin faded as he struggled to turn the pages, repeatedly sucking the tips of his scorched fingers in his mouth as the book heated up. “It won’t let me turn to any other page.”
“Look at what’s on those pages, then.” I smacked his hand away from the book as blisters formed on his fingertips.
The book snapped shut.
“Hey.” Chance protested.
“It’s not worth burning your flesh over.” Leading him to the sink, I ran cold water over his blistering fingers. Ruthie had left a small aloe vera plant growing on the windowsill. I broke off a piece, letting the inner gel run over his fingertips. I glanced at Chance to see how uncomfortable this was, but he was watching with a smile, of course.
“What?” I let his hand go and grabbed a paper towel to dry mine.
“Where did you learn that?”
I shrugged. “Tessa, I guess.”
“Destiny would’ve done the same, or I would think, our mother.” He cradled his hand with the other as the gel dried. “Essie taught Destiny, said she learned it from Serendipity, our mother. Mother was gifted with healing.”
I glanced away when he mentioned our mother and this little bit of information shaping the person she had been. The jealousy rising within me faded when I realized, maybe it was because I’d never asked…or because I didn’t want to know. Not knowing allowed me to make my own stories, to live in any fantasy I chose in my mind. Being the happy-go-lucky person Chance was, I’d bet he asked. He wasn’t afraid of the truth.
“I don’t think I ever knew what her name was.” My face warmed, I’d never thought to ask. She was just Mom. “What does it mean?” I peeked from under the veil of hair I’d let fall forward to hide my shame. “Her name, that is.”
Chance leaned against the counter. “There are a lot of ways to define it, but what suits her is happy accident, or more specifically, the accident of finding something good without looking for it.”
I mulled this over.
“Apparently she didn’t always use magic to heal. She could find methods of healing in ordinary things around her.” He reached over and touched my shoulder, holding up his fingers for my inspection. “Thank you. My fingers are feeling better.”
I studied his hand as I spoke. “Do you think…do you think our mother found us to be a happy accident? I mean, she gave her life delivering us.”
Chance cupped his hand under my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Yes. I know she did.”
“But how could you know?”
“Simple, Ruthie told me and you know—”
I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Please don’t say it.” I laughed. “She knows,” I said, before he could.
Chance hugged me before I could protest. “I love you, Sis. It feels good to have you home.”
My laughter faded as warmth spread through me. “Me too.”
****
A beep announced the arrival of a text on my phone. I rolled to my side. Tercet growled low in her throat to protest her shift in position on my head, where she imitated a little fur cap. I made a grab for my phone without opening my eyes, and it slid out of my grasp at the first two attempts, until I cracked an eye. Tercet moved to crouch over the phone, ready to attack.
Who was calling this early? Better yet, who has my number? Although, I’d guess phone numbers were easy to come by. People here acted as if everything was anybody’s business, which somewhat explained Ruthie’s rude behavior. The regulars kept their distance from those passing
through, fiercely defending the privacy of those they knew. From what I’d learned so far, they did that for good reason.
I didn’t recognize the number, but froze when I read the text.
“I think you have something of mine.”
Griffith. I sat up, sending Tercet flying off in a huff. I don’t know how he knew I had the book, but he knew. Grimacing, I hoped he wasn’t like Ruthie. I couldn’t take one more know it all in my life right now. I stared at the text message. There was no use lying. Besides the book wasn’t doing me much good since we couldn’t open it.
I thought about what Ruthie said about on-the-job training. No one knew what we were expected to do. But I’d bet Griffith knew more than we did. I’d been around him several times and even been secluded in his house in the middle of nowhere. If he planned to kill or maim me, he’d passed up good opportunities already.
What did I have to lose? Maybe I could convince him to tell me about the book and help me understand what I was dealing with, and what I couldn’t tell my family about myself. I looked at my hand, no hazy fog right now. I might regret my decision to trust Griffith, but I needed to start stepping up sometime.
I was glad he’d texted me rather than come in person. Although, I couldn’t determine how angry he was about me taking the creepy book over a text.
I texted back. “I did borrow something of yours. I’ve been meaning to get it back to you. Can we meet somewhere?” I wanted to add about making it a public place with multiple escape routes, but didn’t want to highlight my anxiety. I needed to act as if meeting him was no big deal. I couldn’t dwell on what could happen if he was angry with me for taking it.
Falling back on the bed, I laid the phone on my chest and closed my eyes. Tercet jumped back on me and sniffed at the phone. Worst case scenario was he’d bring all his Oppressor friends and force me into a pit of despair and agony. I’d see no reprieve from the depression except for release from the constraints of this world with sweet, sweet death.
Tercet batted at the phone, oblivious to my distress.
Or maybe he’d show up alone and finish what he started in the store parking lot, ravishing me until I’m too helpless to resist him. The heat rose through my body as I envisioned this. Well, perhaps the second scenario wouldn’t necessarily be considered a worst-case scenario. Damn, why’d he have to be such a hottie?
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