by Bill Myers
“No, but she’s cute,” Scott said, peering over her shoulder. “Maybe she snores, huh?”
Becka ignored the comment as she continued to study the photo. “Actually, there’s something familiar about her, but I can’t seem to place her face.” The girl in the photo was about seventeen or eighteen — at least that was Becka’s guess. She stood on a mountain, with an expansive valley in the background. She wore a backpack and hiking clothes. Her safari hat covered the top of her long, dark blonde hair. A gentle smile lit her simple but attractive face.
Scott looked at the image more closely too. “Yeah, I know what you mean. She does look like someone I’ve met or seen before. I just can’t say for sure.”
Becka turned the photograph over. “And look. On the back it says, ‘Iron sharpens iron. Stay sharp . . . and keep a sharp eye on this misguided spirit.’ ” Becka glanced up at Scott and then back at the photo. “What does Z mean by that?”
Scott shrugged. “I can’t figure out how he knows half the stuff he knows. Hey, check this out. I got three free Domino’s Pizza coupons. Now you’re talking my language, Z.”
“That’s it?” Becka asked. “I get earplugs . . . and you get pizza?”
“Now who’s acting like the Fairness Police?” Scott said, elbowing his sister in the ribs.
“Hold on,” Mrs. Williams said. “Isn’t that a note on the back of one of your coupons?”
Scott f lipped it over. “Um, it says ‘Remember to pray for Becka. Z.’ ” He looked up. “Too bad. Nothing in there about sharing my pizza with you, sis.”
Becka’s eyes met Scott’s. Since moving to Crescent Bay, both Becka and Scott had learned to expect the unexpected, especially when it came to spiritual warfare. And when it came to Z, there was always some deeper significance to the things he sent their way. Only this time, neither could make out where Z was headed.
Mrs. Williams stood to leave. “I’m sure this will all make sense in due time. It always does, doesn’t it?”
Becka nodded, but for some reason she felt a growing uneasiness about spending the weekend with Julie. It was the same sensation she seemed to get in her stomach whenever she was about to face some form of spiritual counterfeit.
“So, Mom,” Becka said, clearing her throat, “how can I get in touch with you . . . you know, like if I needed you for something?”
Mrs. Williams raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I got a free cell phone too, my dear. You know me. I couldn’t pass up one of those family plan deals where we share the minutes.”
“Very cool, Mom,” Scott said, nodding in approval.
“Now, I’m not too sure there will be coverage way out at the cabin,” Mom said, “but if not, I’m sure there must be a pay phone somewhere on the campground. Why don’t I call you on your cell? I’ll just plan to catch up with you sometime during one of the session breaks.”
“Becka, you can always program Darryl’s home number into your cell phone too,” Scott offered. “Of course, we may be too busy eating a double-cheese and ’roni pizza to answer.”
“Thanks for nothing, bro.”
“You can count on me.” Scott tucked the coupons in the front pocket of his jeans.
Mrs. Williams called from the living room, “I’ll drop you guys off on my way out. Let’s leave in an hour, okay?”
“No prob,” Scott said. He jumped out of his chair and headed to his room.
After her mom and brother left the room, Becka stared at the phone for a minute. Not only was she being forced to go to Julie’s party, where she’d have to face Laura Henderson, but now she was spending her entire last weekend before the start of her senior year at Julie’s. If anything, she’d like to get some time with her boyfriend, Ryan Riordan.
Becka picked up the phone and dialed Julie’s number. What choice did she have? Julie answered on the second ring.
“It’s me,” Becka said.
“Hey,” Julie said. “You coming?”
“Yeah, looks like I’ll be spending the weekend too.”
“Great,” Julie said. “My mom said you might be, but I figured after our last conversation you might make other plans so you could avoid Laura.”
“I still don’t get it — why Laura?” Becka said, trying not to sound too frustrated. “I mean, I didn’t know you guys were friends.”
Julie laughed. “We’re not. We just have a class together and have gotten to talk a couple of times. She’s really not a bad person. Like I said, her dad is a lawyer and knows Sarina Fox’s agent. When Laura offered me the chance to meet Sarina and learn about her TV show at the book signing, I figured the least I could do was to invite her. Come on, Beck, how many famous people ever show up in Crescent Bay?”
Becka took a deep breath. She knew she might as well try to smooth things over with Julie. “Listen, Julie. I want you to know I don’t feel comfortable with Laura there, but I understand why you feel you should be nice to her. So don’t worry, we’ll work it out.”
“Thanks for understanding. I know we’ll have a blast,” Julie said. “And guess what? There’s two other girls coming.”
“Wow. Who?” Becka said.
“Well, of course there’s Krissi,” Julie said, then added, “and my cousin Rachael — she’s visiting from out of town.”
“She’s the one from Sacramento?”
“Seattle,” Julie said. “She’s totally into The Hex and is dying to meet Sarina.”
Becka had heard about The Hex. Who hadn’t? It was only the hottest TV show in the country. She didn’t know much about the show, having never watched it herself. But somehow, if the name The Hex was any indication, Becka was pretty sure it wasn’t the kind of show she’d want to see, and she was a little concerned that Julie sounded so excited about it. Then again, it was Julie’s party and even Z said Becka should watch out for her. Maybe this was what he was talking about.
“It’s gonna be so cool,” Julie said. “Sarina Fox . . . in person . . . signing copies of her new book. WOW!”
“Uh-huh,” Becka said, her palms starting to sweat.
“Laura is also gonna get us hooked up with Sarina for dessert or whatever afterwards. Fun, huh?”
Becka didn’t say anything. Her mouth was too dry to speak, even if she could have thought of something to say. She switched the phone to her other ear.
When Becka didn’t answer, Julie said, “Don’t worry, Becka. Like I said, Laura’s just going to the bookstore and dessert with us. That’s all. I’m sure it won’t be that bad for a few hours.”
Becka cleared the tightness from her throat. “I . . . I’m sure we’ll . . . be fine,” she said. The truth was, she’d never forget the time Laura and several others from The Society attacked and almost killed her. True, Laura had just been acting on orders from Brooke, but it was a close call. “Hey, I better go. My mom’s taking me to your place in an hour or so, and I’ve still got to grab my things.”
Becka hung up and didn’t move for a long minute. In the silence that followed, she remembered what bothered her about The Hex. Several days ago, she and Ryan had been riding to the airport in Ryan’s Mustang. “Spellbound,” the theme song from The Hex, filled the speakers. Although Becka couldn’t recall the lyrics, the DJ made a comment that the song, like the TV show, was heavy into Wicca.
She didn’t know much about Wicca.
She just knew Wicca had something to do with witchcraft.
And in a few hours she’d be face-to-face with what’s-her-name from The Hex.
2
Laura walked to her father’s study. Rather than march right in, she lingered by the French doors that led to the wood-paneled room. A grandfather clock in the corner ticked away the silence. Her mom had left for the beauty parlor several minutes prior, and her dad, a divorce attorney, was probably on the golf course. At least, that was Laura’s guess. After all, it was Friday afternoon. As far back as she could recall, he always claimed he needed a round of golf to settle his nerves after a week of busting up people’s marriages.
; As a child of seven, Laura remembered standing in that very spot, wanting to rush in and give her dad a hug when he would arrive home late from work. The couple of times she had tried, she had been pushed away. Her dad had so much important stuff to do to establish his law practice. She just had to understand. Even her mother had said so.
“Dad’s busy. Don’t bother him.” Even now that she was seventeen, her mother’s words from ten years ago still echoed in her head. Come to think of it, not much had changed.
Laura’s eyes scanned the room. The shades were drawn. The only light came from a small lamp with a dark green lamp shade on his desk. He had a habit of leaving it on. She walked into the office, circled around to the back of her father’s massive mahogany desk, and eased herself into his big, high-back leather chair.
Once seated, the strong smell of tobacco greeted her nose. She noticed a half-smoked cigar resting on the edge of his ashtray. Her eyes drifted across the desktop. She dare not touch anything. Her dad had barked at the cleaning lady for disturbing his things. No, she didn’t come to pry into his stuff. She just took comfort sitting in his chair.
It was about as close to him as she could get.
It would have to do.
Laura was about to leave when the phone on his desk purred. He had set the ringer on the lowest setting. On the second ring, the answering machine clicked on. Her ears perked up as the confident, deep voice of her father came on: “You’ve reached the home office of Les Henderson. Leave a confidential message at the tone. I’ll return the call shortly.”
The breathy voice of a woman whispered, “Les, it’s me. I know you said not to call you here, but I just had to tell you what a wonderful time I had at lunch today.”
Laura just about flew out of the chair. She leaned toward the answering machine. Who was this woman? What was she doing with her dad at lunch? Was she a client? If so, she sure sounded awfully friendly.
“I . . . well, I can’t wait to see you . . . tonight . . . I’ll be sure to make it . . . worthwhile.” The caller paused, then added, “I feel positively naughty, don’t you? Bye, dearest.”
Laura was too stunned to move. For a second, she couldn’t breathe. It felt as if a giant vacuum had sucked out all the air from her lungs. She brought a hand to her face. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.
Her dad? Having an affair?
The walls of her father’s study felt as if they were closing in on her, squeezing every ounce of life out of her world. It didn’t make sense. Her parents didn’t appear unhappy. As far as she could tell, they rarely argued. Then again, her folks rarely did much together aside from having brunch on Sunday at the country club.
The grandfather clock chimed four times. Laura focused on the clock through the tears now dampening her eyes. She remembered she had to be at Julie’s by five. She’d have just enough time to do what she knew she had to do. She willed herself to leave the room, climbed the staircase to the second floor, and then made her way to her bedroom.
She closed and locked the door behind her, as if doing so would shield her from the knifelike betrayal she felt slicing away at her heart. Try as she did, she couldn’t shake the voice of that woman echoing in her mind: “Bye, dearest . . . bye, dearest . . . bye, dearest . . .”
She fell facedown on her bed, sobbing. Several minutes passed before she managed to pull herself upright. She sat on the edge of the bed and dabbed her tears with a corner of the sheet. Like a lost child, she sat, hands folded in her lap, waiting to be rescued.
In the stillness, a plan of action formed.
Slowly, Laura got down on her knees and withdrew a black, three-sided hat from beneath the bed. It was her Cone of Power, or, as her unenlightened friends called it, her witch’s hat. She put it on her head and then walked to her desk.
She grabbed a piece of red construction paper and, with scissors, fashioned it into the shape of a tongue. Using a marker, she scribbled a few words on the paper tongue. Satisfied, Laura picked up a glass jar from the corner of her desk and then walked to the center of the room with the jar and the tongue.
As a Solitary, a witch practicing the craft of Wicca alone, Laura knew she had to create a magic circle, a holy ground in which she would cast a spell. Unlike Brooke, the leader of The Society who was way deep into black magic, Laura viewed her private journey into Wicca as a less dangerous pathway to personal enlightenment.
She had pulled away from The Society last year after that horrible night at the park when she realized the control Brooke had over her. Laura shuddered, thinking about how she had taken part in terrorizing Becka. And while Brooke was still dealing with the police, Laura was required to have regular counseling for her part in the assault. Talk about an awful year.
That’s when she discovered Wicca. As a Wiccan, her spell casting was a positive way to protect and provide for the people and things she loved. Or so she was taught.
She took a deep, cleansing breath and tried to quiet the restlessness in her spirit. As the calm settled upon her, she walked toward the North with her dominant hand leading the way. Her fingers pointed downward as she moved.
Laura began to pace in a clockwise direction around the room. As she walked, she imagined a hedge of tall trees emerging in the wake of her fingers as they floated through the air. She whispered these words:
“Circle of power, I call thee forth.
Be for me a boundary between this world and the spirits.
May it be a perfect place of peace, love, and power.
I look to the keepers of the North, the East, the South, and the West
To assist me now; consecrate this place
In the name of the lord and the lady.”
Laura glided around the room three times as she spoke the words, stopping at the northern point. She bent over. With a slap of her hand against the floor, she added, “This great circle of power is sealed.”
This done, she walked to the center of the circle, holding the tongue-shaped paper and jar. Laura opened the jar and then placed the tongue inside. She replaced the lid and tightened it with a twist. As she worked, she said:
“Speaker of evil, temptress of my dad,
I bind your tongue; I forever banish you
From this home, so you harm us no more.
May the spirit deal with you according to your evil intent.
May only love and positive energy encircle my home,
So mote it be!”
Laura closed her eyes. She envisioned the angels in the spirit world bathing her room with a warm light. She lifted the jar above her head, imagining the paper tongue inside scorched by fire. She lowered the jar, opened her eyes, and walked counterclockwise around the circle three times. With care, she put the jar in the bottom drawer of her desk and placed her three-sided hat back under the bed.
She glanced at the clock on her bed stand. She had thirty minutes before she had to be at Julie’s house. It was then that a new idea came to her mind. She decided to cast a special spell of friendship for someone she’d be meeting later that evening.
She quickly retrieved the hat, grabbed a candle and a lighter, and then retraced her steps to conjure up a magic circle. This time, as she stood in the center, she pictured Julie’s thick blonde hair. For a second, Laura considered how much prettier Julie’s hair was than her own stringy blonde mane, but she quickly banished the negative energy that such comparisons generated.
Laura lit the candle and held it above her head. She said:
“I light my candle; my will be done.
Sarina Fox, kindred seeker,
Be drawn this day, to be at one
With me and with the lady.
All hail the goddess,
So mote it be!”
With a puff of hot breath, Laura blew out the candle.
3
Hey, Mom,” Scott said, picking up two large suitcases, “I thought you were only going for the weekend.”
“I am,” Mrs. Williams said, checking her hair in the m
irror by the front door. She smiled. “One for each day.”
“Gotcha.” Slumping under the weight of a suitcase in each hand, Scott headed to the car. As he lugged them toward the driveway, Ryan Riordan pulled up. Scott turned and called toward the open front door of the house, “Becka, Ryan’s here for the dog.”
Becka bounded out onto the front lawn. “Hey, Ryan.”
He gave her a hug. “Boy, is somebody moving?” he said with a laugh, pointing to the luggage.
“Actually,” Mrs. Williams said, joining them, “it may look that way, but it’s still just for the weekend.”
Becka walked with Ryan toward the house. “Now, you’re sure you and Muttly will get along?”
Ryan laughed. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. I love dogs.”
They headed to the kitchen, where Becka had Muttly’s stuff. “Here’s his food — just two scoops twice a day.”
“I think I can handle that.”
“And his toy, his blanket, his leash.” She stopped mid-step. “Are you sure this isn’t asking too much?”
Ryan gathered up the items. “I promise, Beck, we’ll be fine. Besides, if Muttly misses you, I’ll call you at Julie’s, and you guys can talk on the phone . . . deal?”
Becka blinked. “That reminds me. I’ve got a cell phone now.”
“Imagine that,” Ryan said with a sly grin. “The Williams have joined the rest of mankind.”
Becka ignored the friendly jab and jotted down her new number on a napkin. “Here ya go,” she said, tucking the paper in his shirt pocket. “Muttly’s around back. Here, I’ll get him — ”
Ryan squeezed her arm. “No, I’ll get him. You just do what you need to do to get ready.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, and let’s plan on doing something Sunday night when you get home.”
Becka liked the sound of that. “Thanks, Ryan.” Her heart did a little flip-flop as he hugged her. Becka zoomed out of the kitchen and grabbed her bag.
“Come on, Becka,” her mom said, switching off the lights in the living room.
“Mom, give me another sec, okay?” Becka said, plopping her overstuffed duffel bag by the front door. Beside it she placed Julie’s present. An arrangement of colorful crepe paper sprouted out of the top of the bag. She was all set. Well, almost. She wished she had a better idea of what Wicca was all about, especially since she’d be meeting Sarina from The Hex.