by Laura Sibson
But then Jamie was there. Jamie with his strong hands and warm eyes and I knew he could take away my pain for a little while. I told him to shut the door, but he wouldn’t. Not while Mama was just outside.
Later, after he left, I thought about what had happened earlier, when I’d first woken and had planned to text Jamie and work on the boat all day. The reason that I’d hung Dad’s dog tags around my neck.
After I’d gotten up, I listened to a voicemail message. It was from my new college roommate. I hadn’t gotten around to forwarding our mail, so I guessed that my housing assignment letter was in whatever mountain of mail was collecting back at our house. Hearing that I had a roommate and dorm assignment made me want to talk to Dad right away. I couldn’t remember which dorm he’d been in his freshman year. Why couldn’t I remember? I know he told me—probably a thousand times. I held the phone in my hand, suddenly remembering that he’s not back in Baltimore working. He’s gone. And I couldn’t remember what dorm he’d been in. I called him anyway, to hear his voice. I didn’t leave a message. I never do.
Then, I called the administration offices at UPenn to tell them that I was withdrawing. I did it without talking to Mama, because what would she say? Nothing. I’d been in bed ever since and not even Jamie was willing to give me what I needed. When I leaned into the crevice between my bed and my wall for the bag where I kept Dad’s things, it wasn’t there. I wanted to put the dog tags in the bag. But the bag was gone.
I got up and yelled at my mom. I asked her what she’d done with my bag, what she’d done with Dad’s things. Water flew from my fingertips. Mom raised her hand and I knew she was going to wrap me in vines.
I walked down to the dock and boarded the boat. Sitting on the deck, hugging my knees to my chest and letting the rain fall on me, I felt Dad with me. I was sure that he would appear to me again. If only I waited long enough. Mom had always said that it was the way of our family that our dead stay with us. It had to do with shared memories and the bond of love. So where was Dad?
Chapter Twenty-Three
EDIE
“Dog tags,” I say, closing Mom’s journal and tucking it next to me in the hammock. “My mom wrote about dog tags. My mother wore them to remember my grandfather, so that’s got to be one of the items.”
“His name, two times, hanging on a chain.” Rhia looks up from drawing with a marker in the small sketchbook she carries around. “Sounds like dog tags to me.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Tess says. She’s climbed one of the lower branches of the tree and she’s perched there like an oversized, very colorful bird.
I close my eyes to take in what Mom had written. How Mom had withdrawn from UPenn before she had me. I’d always thought that I was the reason that she hadn’t gone to college. But now I know it was because of her sadness and not being able to share the experience with her dad.
This is the closest I’ve gotten to knowing the grandfather I’d never met. It makes me wonder why GG doesn’t talk about those times at all. I hear Rhia and Tess chatting, and I want to join in, but I also want to look at the photo again. I pull it from my bag and allow myself to get swept back into the memory from so many years ago.
Next thing I know, I’m being shaken. “Edie! Wake up!”
I open my eyes. Rhia’s face is close to mine. I smile to see her so near. She glances at my lips, but then her eyes go to my hand where the photo is clutched there. She moves away.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Got to go—Tess is late for work. Lost track of time.”
“Did I fall asleep?” I look around, trying to orient myself. We are at the beech. I’m in the hammock.
“I don’t know.” Rhia looks at the lines on my arm and bites her lip. “Come on. Tess is at the truck.”
I roll out of the hammock, carefully sliding the photo into my bag. I can get back to it later.
* * *
* * *
On Wednesday morning, we’re supposed to meet for our morning run, but Tess texts to say she can’t make it. I’d stayed up a lot of the night, with the watch on my arm and the photo in my hand. I could almost feel like I was with them, in those memories. When I finally slept, my dreams were full of shadows.
I head out to run on my own, but I’ve got no gas. Unbearable nausea forces me to stop my workout early, which might be a first for me. I text Tess and Rhia, asking when we can look for the next item. I’ve got to stop this infection. A voice whispers that maybe I’m also eager to see the memory held by the next item.
Later, I message them again. Hours go by before I get a reply from Tess saying that she and Rhia can meet me at Cosmic Flow that afternoon. And that I should bring the watch and photo—Rhia has been reading up on dark magic and wants to take a closer look at them.
* * *
* * *
“Did you bring the things?” Tess asks as soon as I walk into the store.
I’m hesitant to pull them from my bag. I like it better when they are close to me, in my bag or in my hands, but I set the watch gently on the table and then the photograph. Nothing happens when I touch them for only a short moment. Nothing except my need to hold them longer and let the memories play.
Using a pencil, Tess slides them over to Rhia. “Be right back.” Rhia scoops up the watch and photo into her gloved hands, taking them with her into the back room.
“Where is she going?” I ask. I don’t like that they are going out of my sight. I rub at the black veins on my arm. I feel sick. I’ve barely eaten anything these last couple days.
Rhia comes back empty-handed.
“Where are they?” I feel my anxiety ratcheting up. I need that watch and the photo. I need them in my hands.
“We’re keeping them locked up,” Tess says.
“What do you mean, you’re locking them up? Give me back my watch and photo.”
“They aren’t safe,” Rhia says. “They’re corrupted with dark magic.”
A flash of irritation zips through me, followed by a tingling in my fingers. “What are you talking about? They contain beautiful memories of my mother and grandfather. That’s not corrupted magic. It can’t be.”
“It’s like you’re addicted to them—that’s not normal magic,” Rhia says. “And we’re worried.”
“So this is an intervention?” The burn of betrayal ignites in me.
“We’re keeping you safe,” Tess says.
“Those items are not the problem!”
“You look like shit,” Tess says. “And I say that with love.”
“I’m stressed.” I scratch my arm. “You would be too if you had a magical infection working its way to your heart.” I shut down the inner voice telling me that the items are making it worse.
Rhia asks me to pull up my sleeve.
I hide my left arm behind my back. The two of them are teaming up on me and it brings me right back to when those girls yelled freak at me all those years ago. The tingling in my fingers grows. I clench my fists. What had Mom always said? What can you see? And what else? Why can’t I remember now?
“Doesn’t matter,” Tess says. “We know the infection is getting worse.”
“Those items are speeding it up, aren’t they?” Rhia says.
“We just need to find the other three items. You said it yourself, Rhia. We find the items, we banish the baddie. And I’ll be fine.”
“And your grandmother said that if she can’t stop the progression, you’ll be lost to us forever.” Rhia looks really upset. “We don’t want to lose you, Edie.”
“Please give them back. Please!” I hear the desperation in my voice. I feel pathetic, begging like this.
Tess shakes her head slowly like she feels guilty for telling me no. Rhia doesn’t even look at me.
The tingling sensation spreads from my palms to my wrists and my desperation flashes into anger, ho
t and fast. “So you’re not giving me back my property?”
“It’s for your own good, Edie,” Rhia says. “They’re locked up where they can’t hurt anyone.”
I want to rip apart the store. I want to burn it down. I’m scared of these feelings. I’m scared where they could lead. “I need to leave,” I say.
“Wait. Edie! Let’s talk,” Rhia says.
“Don’t run off like you always do,” Tess calls out.
“I might do something that I’ll regret if I don’t.” I turn and leave without looking back.
* * *
* * *
When I return to our living quarters on the boat, GG looks up from a book she’s reading. Temperance looks up from the window she’d been napping in.
“Do you care to talk about it?” GG asks.
My anger flares again and my hands tingle. “Would you actually talk to me, though? Because you’ve told me that I’m infected and that I could be lost forever, but you won’t tell me why or how this all happened.”
“I understand your frustration.”
And just like that the fight goes out of me. She might as well have used Mom’s element and doused me with water. GG’s words have the same effect. My anger can’t grow if she doesn’t engage. I flop in the chair opposite GG. But I’m still craving those memories. Maybe GG can help me get back to those moments.
“Geege, Mom wrote about helping my grandfather build the chairs on the porch and making fires and having s’mores and stuff.”
“Hm-mm.” GG makes a noncommittal noise.
I lean forward in my chair, elbows on my knees. “What was it like with you all back then? I feel like I never hear you tell stories.”
“We had many good memories.” A small smile plays at GG’s lips.
I flare of hope rises in me. “Can you share some?”
A cloud passes over her features. The smile disappears. She clears her throat. “We can’t dwell in the past, can we?”
Seems like an odd answer. I can’t help but think about Rhia’s grandmother. Does GG not share memories because she doesn’t have them? Could she have dementia? GG walks over to me, leans in, and kisses me on the head.
“I love you, Edie. Never doubt that.”
A rush of emotion bursts forth in me like the flowers on GG’s magical hawthorn tree.
“I don’t,” I say. “I won’t.”
GG lifts her chin. “It wouldn’t be a bad time to work on your element.”
I curl my fingers into my palms. “I’m too agitated.”
“When better to practice control? Look, I have a pail of soil here, which can put out any fire. And if all else fails, I can toss you in the river.”
GG’s words coax a small smile from me.
“Come.” She tilts her head toward the door.
We stand on the back deck of the boat. I breathe in and breathe out. I close my eyes. But what if the sparks catch something flammable? My eyes fly back open. “You have the dirt?”
GG nods. “I have the dirt.”
“You’ll put out the fire if it gets out of control?”
“I will.”
“Even if it means throwing dirt in my face.”
“Even then.”
“What if someone sees?”
“In my experience, people don’t believe what they see when it doesn’t match the way that they think the world works.”
I can’t think of any other excuses, so I try. I call up Mom’s guidance from three years ago. She’d said that I couldn’t be frightened—that anger and fear bring chaos to our magic. She’d told me to slow my breathing and calm my mind. Then, she’d said for me to hold up my palms and ask the fire to come to me.
When my breathing is even, I take in a breath and hold my palms up toward the sky. In my mind, I call to the fire. The tingling returns. I open my eyes. Tiny sparks dance from my fingertips just like at the cabin that day. They are beautiful.
“Good! Now form a ball, Edie,” GG coaches me.
Focusing on the sparks, I imagine them coming together to form a ball of fire, of light. They begin to merge together. Over each palm hovers a sparking ball about the size of a marble. The fire tickles me but doesn’t burn. The balls begin to grow larger, the tickling more intense. It’s too much.
“No!” I say, dropping my hands.
“Call it back, Edie,” GG commands.
But it’s too late. The fire has hit the deck of the boat. GG flicks one hand and the pail full of soil smothers my flames. I curl my fingers into my palm.
“You allowed your fear to take over,” GG says.
She flicks her fingers again and the soil rises and sets itself back into the pail.
“That’s what happens every time,” I say. “I keep hoping that the fear will go away, but it doesn’t.”
“It’s possible that it never will,” GG says. “Here.” She hands me a broom and a dustpan. “For the rest,” she says.
As I sweep up the remaining dirt and ash, I feel more hopeless than ever. “I’ll never learn to master this element if I can’t stop being scared of it. Mom said I couldn’t be afraid.”
“You will,” GG says, taking the dustpan and broom from my hands. “It’s not that you can’t be afraid. You can’t allow your fear to be your boss. Make friends with the fear. Tell it to step aside. And you’ll master your element.”
I don’t know how I’m supposed to make friends with fear. My approach to uncomfortable things is either to run away or figure out a solution. Making friends with fear doesn’t seem to fall into either category. And on the topic of fear and friends, I wonder how I’m going to find the last three items when I feel so betrayed by Tess and Rhia for tricking me into giving up my items. I rub at the veins webbing my skin and wonder how long I have before I’m lost and what that even means.
Chapter Twenty-Four
EDIE
On Friday before work, I pull on a long-sleeved shirt, but first examine the progression of what’s happening to my arm. The lines haven’t progressed any farther since Tess and Rhia took those items, but the fingers on that hand continue to feel cold. I go to GG and she covers the lines with her remedies and gives me two tablespoons of her best honey. But she shakes her head.
“It’s not working, is it?” I say.
“It doesn’t appear so.”
“What did you mean before when you said I could be lost to you forever?”
GG sighs one of her epic sighs. “When it reaches the heart, the person becomes a shell, living in another dimension altogether.”
A chill runs through me. “And you truly don’t know any way to fix it?”
GG closes her eyes tight before opening them to look at me. “There is a way, but it’s very dangerous and we do not have everything that we need.”
* * *
* * *
My shift with Tess is stilted as each of us avoids the magical elephant in the ice cream shop. My mind is occupied with what GG meant when she said that the way is dangerous and that we don’t have what we need. I’m also still angry at what Tess and Rhia pulled, double-crossing me like that. But if I’m honest, the longer I’m away from those items, the better I feel. After two days, the nausea and dizziness are pretty much gone, even though the black veins remain.
I’m not ready to admit that yet, so I’m relieved when the shift is over, and I can go back to the boat. We’ve just begun cleaning up for the night when her phone rings. I can hear Rhia yelling from where I stand by the sink. I turn off the water.
“What?” Tess’s face shows shock. Her eyes flick over to me.
“Working. Yeah, she’s here, too. What?! No! Okay. Be there as quick as I can.”
“What’s going on?”
Tess has trouble looking at me. “We need to leave right now. The beech is on fire.”
Tess s
peeds down the roads and for once I don’t mind. We turn off the main road and start to bump over the side road that leads us to the field where the beech stands. As we turn the corner, we both gasp. All we see are flames. The entire tree is lit and sparking. The weeping branches spill fire toward the ground and smoke billows upward to the sky.
“No!” Tess wails.
The flames are not orange, red, and yellow as they should be. The flames eating this beloved tree are a sickly green.
“Get me as close as possible,” I say.
“What? No! We are calling nine-one-one,” Tess says.
“Tess, get me as close as possible. Nine-one-one won’t be able to help.”
Tess rockets across the field toward the tree where one lone figure is on her knees. I can feel the beech dying. I don’t know if I can help—I might be too late.
“Grab Rhia and get back,” I say. “As far as you can. Promise me!”
“Okay, okay,” Tess answers. Her face is fixed in fear.
I jump from the Jeep and sprint across the field. Rhia runs toward me. When she reaches me, she pushes me hard in the chest. I stumble backward.
“Rhia, what the fuck?”
“You did this!” she yells.
“What are you talking about?”
“You can conjure fire,” she screams. “You said you’d do something you’d regret. You’re getting us back for taking your things. You burned our beech!”
“Rhia, I’m trying to save it, not burn it. Go with Tess.”
Rhia collapses on the ground, wailing. The air is filled with the acrid smell of burning and the popping and crackling of the fire as it roars through the tree.
“Rhee, come on,” Tess yells, tugging on Rhia’s arm. “It’s not safe.”
Rhia allows herself to be pulled up. I sprint the rest of the way to the beech where I stop and kick off my shoes. I wiggle my toes into the dirt, connecting to the earth beneath me. The tiny acorn pendant on my necklace warms. I touch my fingers to it for the comfort it always gives me.