She was right, not much happened in Leland.
I glanced at Phoebe and Robin for support, finding none. I didn’t want to be the only one to chicken out, but my stomach was twisting into knots.
Phoebe was nodding at me, her eyes wide with encouraging peer-pressure.
Read looked over the cafeteria, perhaps searching for Heather before he said. “I’m in. But, uh—yeah, what Nora said. What should we pack? I don’t want to bring swimming trunks if the place rains all the time. Do we need passports or money? I mean Aidan’s family has been everywhere.”
Aidan was shaking his head. “No, no, just pack a few pairs of clothes and sleeping bags. It’s not far from here and there will be shelter.” Aidan said, a muscle twitching alongside his high-cheekbone. “Bring what you’d usually bring camping, except for a tent.”
Robin asked. “Is this for just one night? Will it take all day to get there?”
“It’s an hour drive outside of town and I was going to spend one night but we could do more if you guys want,” Aidan said.
Phoebe’s rueful smile targeted me. “Fuller’s coming.”
I had to admit that Phoebe had a point about my blundering sense of adventure. And though Aidan gave me the creeps, I was probably being irrational.
Dropping my chin, I darted my eyes to Aidan. “If I die on this vacation, I’m coming back to haunt you.”
I’m an idiot. Plain and simple.
I didn’t need a skateboarder to point it out this time.
“Fair enough,” Aidan replied without missing a beat.
“Is that a yes?” Excitement rippled off Robin like a personal perfume.
I gave her a reluctant nod. I was being spontaneous, right? Maybe I could figure out what it was about Aidan that disturbed me or just solidify the fact that that I was truly an idiot. So far I seem to have a knack for that. Or maybe I could…talk to Read? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that yet.
Robin began to reminisce about past weekend outings. There would be some new memories to make and why shouldn’t I join in? I couldn’t duck out because Aidan Birket gave me the creeps. Hell no, I couldn’t.
I looked up to see the electric, blue eyes watching me. We both looked away at the same time.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gathering Caitlin from the living room, I wiggled the six-month-old into a jacket. She didn’t fuss, instead finding this to be a rather interesting exercise and flexed her fingers over and over.
On her head I put a warm hat, just in case the spring air wasn’t as warm as promised. Caitlin had a bundle of curly blonde hair, she’d been born with most of it. During her first wintery months of life she had enough static electricity on her head to light a small home.
I shrugged on a light coat, while Mona slowly put on her coat one arm at a time and took a few lazy minutes to tie up her sneakers, one loop at a time.
“Going out!” I called into the house and strapped Caitlin into the stroller. The baby batted at my wrists before slobbering on them. “You’re a peach,” I told her and she looked up at me, all blue-eyed-innocence and shiny drool.
“Okay, not too late!” Mom’s delayed shout came from the den. She and the housekeeper were thinking of new ways to decorate the house. Mom was a part-time interior designer so the house was always changing.
Upon opening the front door Mona pushed past me into the twilight ahead of us. Her long, brown hair that reached her butt fluttered like a heavy flag.
I lifted the stroller until we were down the two front steps.
Mona took the handles and pushed Caitlin beside me. She talked about her day so fast that I began to wonder if she’d ever come up for air. She had a wonderful experience in art-class with macaroni, glitter and glue. Mona was thoroughly convinced that her macaroni medley was the best in class.
The most noise Caitlin created was nonsensical jabbering that eerily resembled Mona’s. After a while Caitlin would grow bored of that and draw out a single note just to hear her voice jolt with each crack in the sidewalk.
On our third block Mona started complaining about her feet and I realized Caitlin had gone quiet. Peering into the stroller I saw she’d fallen asleep.
“Alright, alright, we’ll head home.” I patted Mona’s head and she nodded in agreement.
Mona started talking but I wasn’t paying close enough attention to her ramblings to know the context.
The lethargic sun slunk below the western mountains. The gargantuan shadows stretched themselves over the valley. The air was nippy and houses flickered lights on inside. Evening came quicker here than anywhere else because of the mountains.
Our stretched shadows ambled ahead of us.
“Nora?” Mona asked annoyed. “Are you listening?”
“Hmm?”
Against my ear I felt air followed by a whisper. “Pssssssssst.” The sensation rippled goosebumps down my right arm and stopped me dead in my tracks.
Mona eased the stroller to a stop and squinted at me through the orange rays of light. “I said, did you see the moon?” Mona pointed to the chalky full moon opposite the sun.
Tilting my chin up, I lost my breath. The distraction had worked.
It was beautiful. The oversized disc appeared almost fake against the fading blue sky. A few stars twinkled to life, but not many. “Wow,” I breathed, feeling Mona move closer to me.
“I don’t like it,” she admitted in a soft voice.
“Why not?”
Air brushed my earlobe again, just before, “psssssst.”
Jumping I searched the ground and quiet houses. “Did you hear that?” I glanced down at Mona’s upturned, uncertain face. She didn’t answer but canted her head and pretended to listen.
“It’s like a hissing noise,” I explained and we both fell silent. As much as I strained to hear it over the neighborhood noises, it wasn’t there.
“A bug?” Mona asked at last.
Just block it out, I thought, my head swimming in a surreal haze. Was I making all of this up right now? Was it all in my head? From the look on Mona’s face I knew it very well could be. She’s helpless here with me, I thought. If I turned into the monster from my own childhood she wouldn’t be safe with me.
“Psssst.”
Mona’s lips parted and I could have screamed in joy at her acknowledgement until she said, “Kyle said that on full moons witches come out and eat kids. He said they like girls more than boys and it happens all over the world. That’s why there’s so many missing kids…”
The joy detonated, leaving hollow disappointment in its wake.
Taking a deep breath, I gathered my wits. I am the adult, I reminded myself. “Kyle’s wrong. There’s no such thing as witches.”
Mona’s pinched brow lowered as if she wasn’t entirely convinced.
I motioned forward. “Let’s keep walking. What were you saying before?”
“Can you push Caitlin?”
I obliged by taking the stroller before we set off again.
Mona walked alongside me and her hand came up to grip my wrist. She kept glancing at the moon, her urge to talk dissipating.
The silence left me with the idea that the eyes were back. The weight of them pressed into the back of my neck.
Struggling for another topic I realized I hated Mona’s silence. “Witches are only in storybooks. Kyle was pulling your leg.”
Mona’s lips formed a tight line of disapproval and she wouldn’t look at me, only at the moon.
“What makes you think that any witch could be real based on what some kid said?”
She shook her head. “It’s okay, Nora. I won’t believe in witches.”
“Good.” I knew she was lying.
We were nearing home and I was eager to get the girls inside and away from the eyes. Quickening my steps I tried to think of something else. If I didn’t acknowledge it, maybe it’d go away. It was like the doctor said: it’s not really there. Everything was in my head. You have to be stronger than your emotions, Nor
a!
I looked up and down the street for something to divert my attention. The Dyne couple got a new car, a Porsche. Someone was going through a mid-life crisis.
Passing the Mueller’s I noticed their newly painted fence, a powder pink.
Maybe the asylum should be called up, just not for me.
Mona took a deep breath, opening her mouth and closing it again. She did this two or three times before gathering enough courage to ask. “What about Aunt Nell? Wasn’t she a witch?”
Screeching to a stop, I stared at her aghast. “Who told you that?”
“Psssssssssssst,” it was longer this time and I let go of the stroller as if it were scalding. “Dammit!” I snapped and Mona jumped away in fright.
“Nora,” she scolded, her face ashen, “Mom told you not to swear—” Her foot knocked into an object just within the Belmont’s yard. The orange sky reflected off the glossy surface like a beacon.
It was a silver hand-held mirror, lying face down in the lawn.
“Oh, Nora,” Mona gasped in awe. She let go of my wrist and bolted for it.
Mona lifted it in her delicate hands, her mouth forming a perfect O of admiration.
It looked like a heavy antique, not something a Belmont child would use, considering they were closer to Caitlin’s age.
Looking at the mirror, I followed the intricate swirls as they curled and swooped within the metal frame before twining around the thickened handle like metal vines. The mirror itself was dirty and smudged. It distorted our images making us appear ghoulish and surreal. Mona entertained herself by making faces at her reflection.
Caitlin stirred but didn’t wake when I asked, “Can I see it?”
Reaching out as if I expected Mona to bite me, I was quick to pluck it from her cupped fingers. I cradled it in both of my hands afraid of its fragile appearance. Mona tipped herself up on her toes to watch.
My warped reflection showed a girl with dark blue eyes, her full lips pinched tightly together and light brown eyebrows arched in surprise. I reached up to touch my forehead, I didn’t think I was raising my eyebrows.
“It’s so pretty,” Mona gushed.
“Yes, and it’s not ours,” I said gently. “We should give it back to the Belmonts…”
Mona gasped sharp and shrill. “What?” I might as well have told her to cut off her hair.
I nodded towards the Belmont’s door. “It’s not ours.” I tried to sound firm, though I heard the shudder.
My mirrored reflection shifted out of the corner of my eye, capturing my attention again.
The girl, who was supposed to be me, had changed. My hand reached up to touch my mouth to feel that my lips were still closed. She was still me, her distorted mouth opened in a silent scream. I licked my lips but the girl in the reflection didn’t move. “We should give it back,” I told Mona.
“No,” Mona shrieked through clenched teeth. “I found it.”
Looking back to my foreign reflection the lips began moving around invisible words. A voice crackled in my ear as if someone had been speaking through a bad connection. The pssssssssttt, overrode the words, making only a few syllables stand out.
With one hand I slapped my palm over one ear to block out the sound. I didn’t dare peek at my sister to see if she was doing the same thing. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the peculiar reflection as the words repeated themselves until the voice rose over the crackle. It wasn’t my voice, I think. It was hard to tell if it was female or male but the words were taking shape.
“Offered death for once the brave.”
Feeling my gut twist I dropped the poisonous mirror.
Mona shouted, her hands swinging to catch it, but missed. It fell to the pavement with a metallic clang. Facing the sky, the mirror went black as if it was turned off.
“What did you do that for?” Mona shouted.
I grabbed Mona’s hand. “It’s not worth it,” I muttered and was forced to squeeze her little hand harder when she tried to wrench herself free. She squealed a protest and had to hop to keep up with me. I knew I should feel sick for hurting her but I’d worry later and panic now.
We had to get away from that thing, away from the gnarled voice. The farther we got, the less it crackled and the safer I felt.
Mona had seen the mirror too, so it wasn’t a delusion, right? But, the voice. I swallowed hard, feeling the lump in my throat. Was she in danger just by being with me?
I’m not going to cry, I promised myself, feeling the pressure behind my eyes.
Mona cursed at me with words I didn’t know she knew.
This episode or delusion, whatever it was, had happened right in front of my little sister.
This time the message hadn’t been in private. I watched her react to me. I saw the bewilderment play across her round face. It was painful to have it replay in my head, but I did, over and over.
Mona began to cry. Her frantic sobs haunted me all the way to the house. It wasn’t very long before Caitlin was roused to join her.
Having barreled into the home with two screaming little girls was probably the last thing my mother wanted to hear.
I fumbled with shaking hands to unstrap Caitlin and passed her to our stunned mother who had rushed to the door upon hearing the racket.
Mom blinked, her wild brown eyes flickering from face to face. “What happened?” She asked as calm as her alarm would allow.
Shaking my head, I threw up my arms in mute exasperation. I would leave Mona to do all the raving sobs. Mom would have to lecture Mona about possession.
I, personally, didn’t want to be near the girls. What if I saw something that wasn’t real and ended up hurting them? I didn’t think I could live with myself.
I retreated to my room without an explanation. I couldn’t deal with the questions right now. I felt like I’d done something awful. As if grease coated my skin, staining it for the weighty eyes to see—and they saw.
I locked my bedroom door and the damnable gaze lightened just a little.
On the shelf beside me I saw the bear.
Mom hated that I still kept it. It was worn a little, but not by use. I rarely played with it but it made me feel safe sometimes. Plucking it off the shelf I held it tight to my chest. “Okay, Damien,” I cooed, my body shuddering, “let’s try to be rational.”
With my bear-protector, I crawled onto my bed and my foot hit the backpack leaning against the side.
Turning on my bedside lamp, I drew my knees to my chest and the stuffed animal. I was grateful that I couldn’t see the eerie full moon but the streetlights bled into the room. I thought about what Mona said about witches eating children. She had asked about our aunt. I hadn’t seen that coming for miles, even my parents refused to talk about her so where had Mona picked up the information?
What if something happens on the weekend? Maybe it wasn’t just my sisters I should be worried about. I pulled and tugged at my shirt and realized what I was doing. I’d lost more clothes to the stupid nervous habit.
Slipping off the bed I rummaged through my pile of dirty clothes until I found the jeans I had been wearing that day and dug through the pockets until I found the wrinkled piece of paper.
All together could they be some sort of poem? I stared at the words for what felt like forever, letting the words jumble together.
It didn’t make any sense.
Dropping the note in my lap I ran my fingers back into the French braid and pulled just enough to feel a bite of pain; something to reassure me that I was awake. I wanted to believe there was a connection with the messages. A vain hope that the words meant something.
Swallowing back my fears, I noticed my backpack’s open maw. Within the gap my notebook jutted out near the top. I could write them down for now, maybe find a connection between the three messages.
Reluctant but determined, I plucked the scribbler free and opened it to a blank page to purge the messages from my head.
The weighty eyes had disappeared entire
ly, leaving me to spend the next few hours staring at the words they’d left behind.
CHAPTER SIX
Friday arrived too soon. I’d spend several hours each day worrying and trying to figure out if I should go or not. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if I didn’t and hell I’d probably feel a little better about that, but I know it would raise more questions. Ones I didn’t want to answer and if Phoebe wanted to, she’d hound me until I broke down.
I even called Aidan’s cell at one point but he didn’t pick up and I didn’t know what to say for a message. He never called me back either.
Adjusting my grip on the shopping bags, I breathed in the fresh air. Maybe this weekend would be worth it. More than likely I was overreacting. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Phoebe nudged me as the city bus pulled around the corner. “Are you alright?”
Phoebe and I didn’t live far from each other and we agreed to bus it together to Aidan’s.
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically. I always hated that question.
Parting her lips, Phoebe was interrupted by the shrieking brakes as the bus shouldered the curb and hissed to a stop.
To avoid Phoebe’s curious gaze I watched the bus doors folded open.
At first Phoebe didn’t budge. I knew she was watching me and I motioned for her to lead. Phoebe was often rebellious with orders, but today she brushed past me to plod up the steps. The heavy pack bowing her spine for balance. We each paid and flopped onto empty seats, side by side, near the front.
The bus jerked to a start and Phoebe started again. “So, seriously, are you trying to think up excuses not to go because of Aidan?” There was a twinge of disapproval in her low voice.
Squirming, I hugged the duffel bag on my lap. Ah, Hell, why not? Before I could analyze what I was about to do, I asked. “Has anything weird happened to you lately?”
Phoebe shook her head. “Weird how?”
“Well,” I struggled to collect my thoughts. “On Monday you said you were having nightmares.”
“Oh yeah,” Phoebe looked startled as if she’d forgotten. “I didn’t tell you about those dreams, did I?”
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