by Amanda Paris
“Emily, I just wanted you to know…I hope you have a great Christmas,” he said, smiling at me.
He looked like he meant it.
“You too, Ben,” I said, genuinely glad to see him looking so much better.
“I hope you’re happy,” he said quietly.
“I am,” I replied, eager to show him that I felt more normal than I actually was. I still felt the loss of Damien, but I was hopeful for March.
“So how is Damien?” he asked casually.
“I don’t know,” I replied. What should I say? Oh, he’s dead, but I’m hoping to bring him alive soon?
“You mean you guys didn’t get together?” he asked, amazed. I knew what he was thinking—why put him through all that for nothing? I hoped he wasn’t right.
His voice sounded cautious, but there was a note of hope there that I couldn’t help but feel drawn to despite my desire to see him happy with someone else.
“I’m not seeing him again until March,” I answered.
He looked at me, confused.
“I knew he didn’t live around here because I would have known him, but come on, March? Where does this guy live?” he asked.
I didn’t know what to say. The more I told, the more difficult it became to explain.
I looked down, not answering.
“Oh, right, sorry. I guess I’m not allowed to ask those questions…Well, anyway, I hope he’s making you happy, wherever he is. Merry Christmas,” he finished and turned to walk away.
“Merry Christmas, Ben,” I said to his retreating figure.
I thought that by changing the events around his life I could actually change his life. And I could, to a point. But I couldn’t change his heart. I wasn’t even sure I really wanted to.
I sighed and turned the key in the ignition. A few sputtering sounds greeted my efforts. The engine felt like it was about to go. Great. Right when I needed her the most, the Saratoga wouldn’t start. I tried turning it again. This time, nothing happened. I tried several more times, thinking that I would have to use my power, when I heard the knock on my window. It was Ben.
I rolled down the window.
“Looks like she’s finally giving out. Do you want me to take a look? Or give you a lift home?” he offered helpfully.
Ben reached inside to try the ignition. I accidently brushed my hand against his and cringed. I knew he felt his ring on my finger, hidden behind the steering wheel. I’d tried to keep it from him, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if I removed it. Since I’d used the ring to concentrate on reshaping the events around his life, I didn’t want to take it off, afraid I might unravel all my good work.
He grabbed my hand. A look of disbelief crossed his face.
“Emily,” he began. I knew where this was headed. It was written all over his face.
“Don’t say it,” I said quickly.
“For God’s sake, Emily, you’re wearing my ring!” he exclaimed in confusion and happiness.
He had a point.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, withdrawing my hand from his.
“What’s wrong with you? Do you have a terminal illness you’re keeping from me or something? I mean, you aren’t even with this Damien guy. Did you just make him up?” he asked, exasperated.
Had I just made him up?
He didn’t wait for a response.
“Emily, whatever you’ve done or said, I forgive you. I just want this to be over. I haven’t been without you for longer than a week’s vacation, let alone months. I don’t want to lose you forever. Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry. Can’t we just get past this?” he asked, the anguish in his voice tearing me to shreds.
Now he was apologizing to me. I really was the lowest creature on earth.
I had only one thought then. I had to get the Saratoga started. I looked down, closed my eyes and started thinking hard. The old girl finally came to life, and I looked one last time at Ben, tears in my eyes.
“Ben, this can’t go on. You have Angela now, and maybe one day we can be friends. But I’m sorry. I just can’t right now. I hope you understand,” I said on a sob.
But how could he? I couldn’t tell him that I loved a medieval knight whom I was either going to bring back from the past or grieve over for the rest of my life. Even I didn’t understand it.
I didn’t look at him as I drove away. I knew that I was hurting him again, and coward that I was, I felt relief to get away. I thought I could help him, could change his life, but it was killing me. I wondered if I could concentrate hard enough to produce enough cash to enroll in a private school until graduation.
****
When I got home, I had four messages, three of them from Annie and one from Ramona. I returned the call to Ramona first, making sure that Aunt Jo was upstairs taking a nap with the door closed.
“Hello, Emily,” Ramona answered instantly. This always freaked me out a little.
“I got your message,” I said.
“I’ve just gotten back into town from a conference,” she said.
“Oh yeah? Did you have a nice time?”
“Yes, I wish you could have joined me. I met some interesting people.”
I’ll bet she did.
“And before you ask, yes, they were all witches. I learned a few things that might be helpful to you in March. And I bought you a present from an antiques dealer who also happens to be a witch.”
“Do you want me to come down to the shop?” I asked.
“Yes, can you come now?”
“Sure. I’ll be there in about five minutes.”
I wrote Aunt Jo a note telling her I went to see a friend and then headed over to Ramona’s store. I needed to stop by the mechanic’s anyway to ask about bringing in the Saratoga for Aunt Jo. Since I primarily drove it, the least I could do was help to maintain it.
I stopped short, laughing. I didn’t need to have it repaired by a mechanic. I could fix it myself with my power. I’d still need to take it in, though, to get it diagnosed, so to speak. I couldn’t imagine how to fix it if I didn’t know what to concentrate on.
I made it to Ramona’s store a few minutes after making an appointment with Bill, the only mechanic in town who knew how to repair the Saratoga. I suddenly thought of Ben, who was very good with cars, even old ones like Aunt Jo’s. I mentally shook my head. That’s over, I told myself for the hundredth time.
Ramona was waiting for me when I entered.
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” I said.
“That’s okay. I hope the Saratoga’s feeling better,” she said.
“What? Oh, right. I keep forgetting.”
I followed her to the back room, but this time we went into another sitting room with two large couches and a small stove and fridge.
“Tea?” she asked.
“Sure.”
While she was making the tea, she told me about her trip.
“You meet all sorts at these kinds of events,’’ she said as she stirred the dark brew.
I chuckled, looking at her outrageous, skin-tight green and black outfit. All sorts indeed, I thought.
“One woman had the power to control animals,” she continued. “I’ve never seen the like!”
“Ramona, I’ve been wondering…” I interrupted.
“Yes?”
“Will you let me ask first?”
“Were you going to ask me if you could change Damien once he comes over?”
“Yes,” I said. If he comes over, I thought.
“Now you want to know why.”
I hadn’t even thought that far ahead yet.
“Well, yes, actually. I don’t want to change him per se. I just want him…”
“Modernized,” she finished.
Modernized? I wasn’t so sure about that.
“To be able to communicate with you, to understand your life here when he crosses over,” she finished, reading my thoughts.
This was starting to get on my nerves.
“Yes, something lik
e that,” I replied.
“Remember I told you before that you could do that,” she continued.
“But I still don’t see how. My power is to shape events, not people.”
“But you will be bringing him from the past. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I met two other witches who’ve done this. Timing, they said, was everything. It must be the exact same time of year for it to work.”
“But I’m not sure of the date. I don’t think they even had calendars then like we do now, or if they did, I don’t remember it. I think we marked time with candles,” I finished, trying to remember.
“That’s okay. You’ll be able to intuit it. Both of them said they just knew when it felt like the right time.”
“Did they bring people from their past lives?”
“Yes. And get this: I met them! One was from ancient Greece.”
I was catching Ramona’s enthusiasm and really starting to believe that it could work.
“Could she talk with him normally?” I asked.
“Yes, but she said she had to imagine being able to converse with him when she brought him over. That was essential. I spoke with the other woman, who didn’t do that, and it didn’t work out so well.”
“What do you mean?”
“She brought him over from medieval Italy—Siena—just before the plague. He’d died during an outbreak that wiped out most of the city.”
“What happened?”
“Fortunately, she speaks Italian, but, unfortunately, she didn’t think about the language differences between fourteenth-century and twenty-first century Italian.”
“Oh no! What did she do?” I asked. This was my biggest fear. How could we be together if we couldn’t even speak to each other?
“What else? She’s teaching him modern Italian. She couldn’t exactly enroll him in the local college,” Ramona said, laughing.
“Oh, right,” I said, thinking that I’d never be able to accomplish that.I wouldn’t know where to begin and thought regretfully that I hadn’t ever paid much attention to my language teachers in school.
By this time, Ramona had made the tea, and as I began to sip the strong brew, she handed me a large, rectangular box.
I felt pretty certain I knew what it contained. Sure enough, when I opened it, I found small rosary beads attached to a cross.
“Thanks, Ramona,” I said, enthusiastic for the first time in months.
“They’re authentic. I checked,” she said smugly.
“You mean…” It couldn’t be.
“Yes, early thirteenth century.”
“But you must have paid a fortune for this! Where did you get it?”
“Actually, they were a gift. I just happened to tell some of the others about you, and voila, one of them volunteered this to help you! She’d been a time traveler herself. They aren’t from England, but that shouldn’t make a big difference.”
“No kidding. Thanks. I owe you.”
She laughed.
“Don’t worry; I’ll come to collect some day,” she said cryptically, taking out another bag from one of the overhead cabinets.
“What’s this?” I asked, curious.
“I told you I bought you something,” Ramona said, handing it to me.
I could read Mary Kay on the side.
“Open it,” she said.
I removed the tissue paper and found a complete make-up set, with brushes, glosses, and eye-shadows.
I raised an eyebrow. I never wore makeup.
“I thought you said you bought me something? Don’t you sell this stuff?” I asked.
She looked a little sheepish.
“I do. But the conference was a Mary Kay event,” she explained.
“I thought you said it was for witches?” I asked, confused.
“It is. We like to look good too, you know,” she said, laughing. “I bought it from the woman who gave me that rosary,” she explained, shrugging her shoulders. “Even though I sell the exact same product, it was the least I could do,” she continued, laughing.
“Besides,” she explained, “you want to look good for Damien when he comes over!”
She cackled, truly looking like a witch then, and I couldn’t help but smile, wondering if I’d ever meet more of our kind. I realized then that I’d begun to embrace who and what I was. I guess I had to, not having much choice if I wanted to bring Damien from the past.
I thanked Ramona for the gift and left shortly after that, tucking the box with the rosary safely inside my pocket. I felt surer about what I was going to do than ever. All I had to do was wait. And hope I was strong enough.
Chapter Nine
"Limbo"
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth.
T. S. Eliot, “East Coker”
January is the longest month of the year. I looked out of my window at the drizzle and sighed. Two more months to go. The wait seemed interminable.
Christmas passed by quietly. In past years, Ben had come over for dinner or I’d gone over to see his folks. Since we weren’t together anymore, Aunt Jo and I had spent a lonely day watching several old home movies with my mother in them. Aunt Jo even had a really old one of my father playing with me as a toddler on a swing set in our backyard in Colorado. I think she wanted to cheer me, but it just made me more depressed, reminding me of other loved ones no longer with me.
I couldn’t wait to try my spell in March. The vision I’d had under hypnosis seemed very far away, and even though I still dreamed of Damien’s face, the dreams weren’t as frequent or as real to me. I began to have doubts again that this would work, but the more skeptical I was, the more I knew that I needed it to work.
It didn’t help that Ben had tried calling me several times since that last day in the parking lot. Despite what I’d told him, he’d seen me wearing his ring, and I knew that meant more than any words. He still went out with Angela—Annie gave me regular updates—but I felt fairly sure that he wanted to get back together with me.
I didn’t know what I would do if I couldn’t bring Damien to the present. Try again? Give up? Seek a more powerful witch, perhaps one of those who’d already done it before? It was frustrating at best, maddening at worst.
Could I live without him? I heard a resounding no to that question. But I’d lived without him all my life, I argued to myself.
No, you didn’t, I reasoned. He’s always been with you, not just in this life but throughout time.
As much as I still cared for Ben, I didn’t think I could go back to him even if I wasn’t strong enough to pull Damien to the present. Maybe I could find some happiness with him, just as Ramona had predicted, but that wasn’t fair to him. And I knew I’d never love him the way I did Damien.
Annie had tried asking me several times about how I felt about Ben, but I put her off as best I could. I knew that she didn’t believe Damien was real, and who could blame her? He had yet to appear, and I hadn’t told anyone but Ramona about what I was doing in March. Instead, I just explained to anyone who asked me that I met him on a vacation last summer. I told Annie that I must have dreamed about him as a knight, dismissing the whole notion of a past life. I knew how crazy I sounded. Maybe I was crazy. It felt like it some days.
I sighed, getting my books together for school. Annie was picking me up today. I didn’t want to be in the parking lot alone again
and run into Ben. I heard her honking the horn, and I ran outside, climbing in the passenger’s side.
“So, how was your weekend?” she began.
“Oh, you know, the usual,” I replied, glad for once that she didn’t bring up Ben and Angela.
“When are you going to come out with us again, Emily? I know it’s awkward with Zack and Ben and everything, but I miss you,” she said, sounding a little hurt.
“Annie, you know I can’t. It would feel too weird, you know, with them.”
I wished I could escape them for one day.
“We should do something. And I think Zack misses you too. We all do,” she finished quietly.
“I know,” I said, not looking at her.
I felt guilty. I’d avoided everyone because of Ben.
“Well, let’s go somewhere on Friday, okay?” she asked.
I still hesitated.
“It can just be us, a girl’s night out,” she offered.
“Okay,” I agreed reluctantly, though I did miss Annie. And I knew there was no way she’d invite Angela.
We arrived at school, and I saw Ben holding Angela’s hand. They were sitting outside on the picnic tables—right in the spot where I usually ate lunch now.
I saw them before they saw me. Angela turned around, shooting me a nasty look.
I looked away, hoping Ben wouldn’t look up. If he did, he didn’t call out my name. I’d still have to see him in English class, anyway, so what did it matter?
By now, we sat almost an entire classroom away from each other in every period. He’d moved closer to Angela in every class we had together, and I’d seen him kissing her several times in the parking lot. I thought about what Annie had told me about Angela the day Ben had given me the ring, but I stopped before I could let that thought progress. There were limits even to my tolerance for self-inflicted pain.
Even though it still hurt to see Ben with someone new, it had definitely gotten better, the pain lessening every day as I drew closer to finding Damien. I was, by this time, so focused on what I had to do in two months that I really didn’t think about them all that often. And I had indirectly set them up, after all. I couldn’t expect Ben to stay miserable, and if he was happy, I was grateful to Angela. But that didn’t mean I had to like her or want to see them together.