by Isobel Bird
“Well, maybe your life is changing in a direction the rest of us don’t want to go in,” suggested Jed.
“Meaning what, exactly?” demanded Cooper.
“Meaning maybe you should save some of your stuff for outside the band,” said T.J. “We can still do the stuff we all agree on, but some of the other songs just aren’t right for Schroedinger’s Cat.”
Cooper chewed her lip, looking at her boyfriend. Then she said, “Maybe it’s not the songs. Maybe it’s me who’s not right for Schroedinger’s Cat.”
“We’re not asking you to quit the band,” said T.J.
Cooper shook her head. “I know you’re not,” she said. “But I don’t think I can be in the band if I have to worry about what I’m writing.”
She took her guitar from around her neck and unplugged it from the amp. “I’m going to go,” she said.
“Cooper,” Mouse said. “We don’t want you to go. We just don’t want to play at the witch thing.”
“It’s okay,” Cooper said. “Really, it’s okay.”
She put her guitar into its case and snapped the case shut. “I’ll talk to you guys later,” she said as she turned and walked out the door.
She was almost to her car when T.J. caught up with her. “Hey,” he said. “Don’t run away again.”
She turned and looked at him. “I’m not running away,” she said. “I just don’t belong in there.”
“You started the band,” he said.
Cooper nodded. “I know,” she said. “But what I said in there was true. I’ve changed, and my songs have changed. Maybe they really aren’t right for Schroedinger’s Cat. You guys don’t want to play them, right?”
T.J. didn’t say anything.
“Okay then,” said Cooper. “I don’t think there’s much more to say about it.”
“But I want you in the band,” said T.J. “I love playing with you. You’re why I’m in the band.”
Cooper sighed. She put down her guitar case, walked over to T.J., and put her arms around his waist. “I love playing with you, too,” she told her boyfriend. “And we can still play together. I just don’t think we can play together in Schroedinger’s Cat. You write great songs, T.J. The band can do those.”
“What will you do?” he asked.
Cooper shrugged. “Who knows?” she said. “Maybe I’ll start another band and we’ll kick your butts.”
T.J. laughed. “Revenge through success,” he said. “Nice.”
“Hey,” said Cooper. “It worked for Robbie Williams, so why not me?” She paused for a minute and then said, “The band isn’t us, T.J. Just because I don’t think I can be in it anymore doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
“What happened to all the yelling and screaming you used to do?” he asked suspiciously.
“You’ve mellowed me,” she said, kissing him. “Not. I’ve just learned a few things. I’m not saying I’m not upset about this. I’ll probably go home and throw a few things. Just not at you.”
She let go of him and picked up her guitar. “I’ll call you later,” she said as she waved good-bye.
She got into her car and pulled away. As she drove home she thought about what had just happened. She hadn’t told T.J. the whole truth. She was really angry. In some ways she felt betrayed by the band. But she had been truthful when she’d said she’d learned a few things. The incident with the school board over her pentacle had shown her that throwing a temper tantrum every time she felt slighted wasn’t going to help anything. There was a time for yelling, and this wasn’t it.
She was disappointed that Jed, Mouse, and T.J. didn’t want to play her new songs. She really liked the songs, and she thought they could be something great. If the others were scared off by the content she couldn’t help that. As she’d demonstrated before by going ahead with her spoken word performances and by standing up to the school board, she wasn’t going to let other people’s fears control her life.
But what are you going to do? she asked herself. You love being in a band. That was true. Music meant a lot to her, and she was happiest when she was playing. She needed to have an outlet for that part of her creativity, and the prospect of not having people to play with really bothered her.
T.J. had asked her if she was going to start another band. If someone had suggested that a few hours before, she would have said absolutely not. She loved Schroedinger’s Cat, and she couldn’t imagine playing with anyone else. But now she thought about the idea some more. Maybe she could start a new band. But who would she get to be in it? She knew that finding exactly the right people was really difficult. She’d been lucky to hook up with T.J., and not just as a couple. The two of them played well together. Finding someone else she could do that with was going to be tough.
She reached her house and parked in front. Getting out, she locked up the Nash and walked to the front door. When she stepped inside, her mother was standing there, looking through the day’s mail.
“I thought you were going to be at band rehearsal,” she said.
“I was,” Cooper replied. “But I don’t think there is a band anymore. At least not one with me in it.”
“You broke up?” she asked.
Cooper shook her head. “Just me,” she answered.
“What about T.J.?” her mother said, setting the mail down on the hallway table.
“Oh, we’re fine,” Cooper said. “This has nothing to do with us.”
Cooper had just turned to walk into the kitchen when her father came out at the same time, and they almost bumped into each other. “Oh,” he said, startled. “We didn’t expect you home so soon.”
Cooper looked at her parents. “You guys seem a little edgy,” she said. “Is there some reason you want me out of the house? Because I can leave for a while if you want to get naked or something.”
Her mother looked at her father. “No,” she said. “It’s fine. But we do need to talk to you.”
Cooper narrowed her eyes. “What’d I do now?” she asked.
“Nothing, honey,” said Mr. Rivers.
Cooper raised an eyebrow. “I must have done something,” she said. “You never call me honey unless it’s serious.”
“Let’s go sit down,” her mother said, walking into the living room.
Cooper followed her, wondering what was going on. There was a definite air of seriousness in the tone of her parents’ voices. But she couldn’t think of anything she’d done that might have caused a problem. In fact, she and her mother had recently gotten over the icy silence that had descended upon them during the battle over the pentacle, when Mrs. Rivers refused to support Cooper’s stance while her father took Cooper’s side.
“Did Grandma die?” Cooper asked suddenly.
“What?” her father asked.
“Grandma,” Cooper repeated. “You know, your mother. Did she die?”
“Not unless something happened to her in the last hour,” her father said. “She was fine when I talked to her. Why?”
“You guys just seem all tense and weird,” said Cooper. “If I didn’t do anything, then someone must have died, right? So if it’s not Grandma, then who is it?”
“No one is dead,” Mr. Rivers said.
“Cooper,” her mother said. “Your father and I have decided to separate.”
Cooper laughed. “Right,” she said. “What’s really going on?”
Her parents weren’t laughing. Cooper’s smile faded. “No way,” she said.
“We’ve been talking for some time now,” Mr. Rivers said quietly. “We think the best thing for us is to be apart, at least for a while.”
“You guys can’t separate,” Cooper said. “You’ve been together forever. What happened? It’s not like you fight all the time or anything.”
“People change, Cooper,” said her mother. “Your father and I aren’t the same people we were when we got married.”
“Is this because of the pentacle thing?” Cooper asked suddenly. “That’s it, isn’t it
? You’re splitting up because you disagreed about that.” She stood up. “You’re doing this because of me. Because I made you take sides.”
“Cooper, it’s not because of you,” her father said.
“Your father and I disagree on a lot of things, Cooper,” said her mother. “But that’s not why we’re doing this. It has nothing to do with you.”
Cooper stood before them, not knowing what to do. She still couldn’t really believe what her parents were telling her. They were splitting up? How could that be? Other people’s parents split up, but not hers.
“Sit down, Cooper,” said her mother.
Cooper did as she was told, so stunned she couldn’t even argue. She just sat there on the couch, staring first at her mother and then at her father.
“We know we’re just sort of throwing this out at you,” said her mother.
“What happens now?” Cooper asked numbly.
“I’m going to be moving into the apartment the firm owns in town,” her father said.
Cooper nodded. It figures, she thought. The guy always moves out.
“It’s the easiest arrangement,” her mother explained. “But your father will still be here a lot. It’s not like we’re not all going to see each other.”
Cooper didn’t say anything. She was thinking about her father living somewhere else. Not only did that make her sad, but it meant that she would be spending most of her time with her mother. She and her mother had always had an uneasy relationship, one that occasionally resulted in fireworks. Her father was able to keep them from clashing too often, and Cooper was afraid that things would be difficult without his calming presence. In particular, she was worried that her mother’s grudging acceptance of Cooper’s involvement in Wicca might become a bigger issue than it already was.
“Cooper, do you have any questions?” her father asked.
“When are you moving?” she said.
“I’ll stay at the apartment tonight,” he said. “I’ll come back this weekend to get some things from the house.”
“How long do you plan on being there?” Cooper asked him.
Mr. Rivers shook his head. “I can’t answer that,” he told her.
“I guess that’s about it, then,” Cooper said. “I’m going to go up to my room now, if that’s okay.”
She stood up. Her parents also stood, and her father put his hand on her arm. “Cooper, it’s okay to be angry about this.”
Cooper looked at him. Suddenly she could feel her eyes beginning to tear up. “I’m not angry,” she said. “I’m just sad.”
Her father hugged her then, holding her close and rubbing her back. She knew he was trying to make her feel better, but she just felt stupid. At the same time, she didn’t want him to let go. As long as he held on to her she could pretend that he wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t about to walk out the door and move into a new apartment where she and her mother weren’t.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered in her ear. “It really will.”
Cooper let go of him. Her mother gave her a small smile but didn’t make any move to embrace her. Cooper wondered if her mother was as apprehensive about living alone with her as she was about living alone with her mother. She felt as if she should say something to her, but she couldn’t think of anything that would sound sincere. “I hope we don’t kill each other” would just sound sarcastic, even if it was the truth.
“I’ll come up and see you before I go,” her father told her. “I have some things to do here first.”
Cooper nodded and left the room. Going upstairs, she went into her room and shut the door. When it was closed she leaned her back against it and sighed. “What else can happen to you today?” she asked herself out loud. “First the band and now your parents.”
She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about what had happened with Schroedinger’s Cat and now with her parents. No matter what anyone said, she couldn’t help thinking that both disasters were at least partially her fault. If she hadn’t insisted on writing songs with lyrics the rest of the band couldn’t stand behind, she’d be practicing with them right now. And maybe if she hadn’t caused tension in her family over the pentacle issue her father wouldn’t be moving out.
You can’t do this, she told herself. You can’t start thinking that your involvement in the Craft is to blame for any of this. She’d done that before. She’d even quit the study group because of her fears that being part of Wicca was causing problems in her life. But when she was honest with herself she knew that was just an excuse. Practicing witchcraft wasn’t responsible for what was going on. But it sure didn’t help anything, she thought.
There was a knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.
Her father opened the door and came inside, shutting the door behind him. He was carrying a suitcase.
“I’m going to go now,” he said.
Cooper sat up. “Did you remember your toothbrush?” she asked, trying to make a joke.
Her father smiled. “And my clean underwear,” he said. He smiled sadly. “I can’t tell you how hard this is.”
“I know,” said Cooper.
“You’re going to have to be nice to your mother,” her father told her. “This is really hard on her.”
“That makes two of us,” Cooper replied.
“Three,” her father corrected her.
“You’re not seeing someone else, are you?” Cooper asked suddenly.
“No,” her father said, sounding shocked.
“Mom isn’t seeing someone, is she?” tried Cooper.
“No one is seeing anyone,” her father told her. “This is just about two people going in different directions.”
“And you’re positive this doesn’t have anything to do with me and the witch stuff, right?” Cooper said.
“Absolutely nothing,” Mr. Rivers replied. “I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but you had no part in this particular upheaval.”
Cooper smiled despite the sadness she was feeling. “I know,” she said. “I can be a real drama queen sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” said her father.
Cooper stood up and hugged her father. “I love you,” she said. “Come back soon, okay?”
“I’m only going into town,” her father answered. “You’ll probably see just as much of me now as you always have.”
Cooper pulled away. She nodded. “Okay,” she said as her father picked up his suitcase and turned to leave. But as he shut the door behind him she knew that she didn’t believe it.
CHAPTER 8
“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts for the descent into San Francisco International Airport.”
Annie looked out the window of the plane as she buckled her seat belt across her waist. Below her she could see green hills and blue water. It all looks so small, she thought as the plane began to glide slowly downward and the world rose up to meet it.
Half an hour later, having collected their luggage, Annie and her Aunt Sarah were in a shuttle van on the way from the airport to the city. Annie looked out the window. She was excited, but she was also worried. She hadn’t told her aunt anything about the voices she’d been hearing or about the visit to Jace Myers. But she’d definitely been thinking about them. A lot. She was sure that the voices were her parents trying to contact her. But what did they want? They sounded so insistent, and they made her so frightened. Were they mad at her for what had happened? She didn’t think she’d be able to bear that, although she wouldn’t blame them at all if they were. After all, it was her fault that they were dead.
“Does anything look familiar?” Aunt Sarah asked as they entered the city.
Annie looked out at the houses and stores passing by them. “No,” she said. “But it was a long time ago.”
She wanted to remember. She wanted to feel as if she was coming back to a place she’d been happy in once, a place that had been her home. But she couldn’t pretend to recognize anything when she didn’t. All she could do
was watch the people and buildings go by and wait for something to bring back memories.
The van turned and drove up a hill. As they crested the top, Annie saw a park spread out before them. People were walking dogs, playing catch, and jogging along the paths that wound through the trees and bushes.
“That looks kind of familiar,” she said.
“It should,” her aunt replied. “Your old house is only a few blocks away. Your parents used to bring you here in the afternoons.”
Annie looked at the people in the park. There were many families enjoying it on this warm, sunny day. Two men were walking with a little girl between them, each of them holding one of her hands. Looking at them, Annie remembered what it felt like to walk like that with her mother and father. She had been so happy then, and it had felt as if nothing bad could ever happen. She hoped the little girl felt the same way. And when she saw a woman walking a big brown dog while a boy who looked about Meg’s age ran ahead of them chasing a ball, she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about how she’d constantly begged her parents to get a dog. They’d promised to get her one when she was seven, but the fire had ended that dream as well.
The van turned again and drove halfway up a narrow street before stopping in front of a small house. The driver got out and opened the door for Annie and her aunt. As he collected their bags from the back of the van the front door of the house opened and a woman came running out. Her long black hair was twisted into numerous braids, and the silky pale pink shirt she had on over her jeans made her cinnamon-colored skin glow.
“Sarah!” she cried, running to Annie’s aunt and giving her a big hug.
“Riza,” Aunt Sarah said. “It’s so good to see you again. Annie, you remember Riza, don’t you?”
Annie looked at the woman. A vague recollection of her face swirled in her mind, but she couldn’t quite place her.
“My hair was much shorter then,” Riza said, laughing.
Suddenly, Annie remembered. “You’re the one who made those sculptures out of glass bottles!”
Riza laughed. “You do remember,” she said. “Unfortunately, you’re about the only one who remembers those. Now I paint scenery for drama productions.”