A Witch to Live
by Glenn Bullion
Copyright © 2012 by Glenn Bullion
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Glenn Bullion.
For Katie and the babies.
Special Thanks:
Rieland Riggs
Robert Moses
Kim Hennesy
Andrew Johnson
Chapter 1
"Come on! Get on up here. Are you scared?"
Six-year-old Rachel Evans looked around frantically. She could hear the other kids in school playing on the swings and monkey bars around the corner. Miss Brown, the recess monitor, organized the games they played. Tag, dodge ball, kickball.
She didn't know what was going on just around the corner.
Rachel looked up in the tree. John Crowe and Melissa Johnson had already climbed halfway. Melissa's twin brother, Michael, was still working his way up, grabbing branch after branch.
John, Melissa, and Michael spent all their time together, and everyone liked them. To be friends with them would make everything so much easier. Everyone would stop picking on Rachel, making fun of her. They'd stop calling her Four Eyes and choosing her last for kickball.
She pushed her thick glasses onto her nose and took a deep breath. They weren't supposed to be away from the other kids. If Miss Brown caught them, they would all be in deep trouble.
"We're not supposed to be here," Rachel said. "Miss Brown always says we're supposed to stay where we can see her."
Melissa laughed. "See? I told you she wouldn't do it. She probably can't see through her four eyes."
John smiled. Michael made it to the limb opposite his friends. He sat and leaned his weight against the tree so he wouldn't fall.
"It's not that hard," he said. "You can do it, Rachel."
She smiled and blushed. She didn't realize they knew her name.
"I thought her name was Lisa?" Melissa said.
"Her name is Scaredy-Cat," John said. "She can't climb a tree."
Rachel looked down at her clothes. She wore a pink dress her mother had bought for her. It wouldn't be easy to climb a tree in it.
But she had to try. If she didn't, they would say bad things about her all over school. They would make fun of her more than they already did.
She didn't know why the other kids didn't like her. She heard her parents talking about it one day after dinner. Dad thought it was because he was one of the richer people in town, and everyone else was jealous. Rachel thought it was because Mom was prettier than everyone else's moms.
Whatever the reason, there were days the kids in her class were relentless. She would get on and off the bus, crying her eyes out. Mom would always be at the bus stop to pick her up, and Rachel had to quickly wipe her eyes and keep from crying so Mom wouldn't see.
On the days they didn't pick on her, they didn't talk to her at all. No one wanted to sit with her at lunch, or play dolls with her.
It was only by freak chance that she was near the corner, playing alone, when she heard John and his friends climbing the tree.
She grabbed the lowest branch and pulled herself up.
"Well, look at this," John said.
Melissa shook her head. "She's not gonna be able to do it."
Michael laughed. "Probably not. Her glasses are too heavy."
Rachel gritted her teeth and grabbed another branch. She felt so high up already, but she wouldn't quit. They were just a few more limbs up, sitting and laughing at her. But she would show them. Then she could greet Mom at the bus stop with a smile instead of tears.
"She's really doing it," John said.
Michael nodded. "Maybe she's not such a wimp after all."
"Look at that dress," Melissa said. "It's so ugly."
"It's not ugly," Rachel said through clenched teeth. "My Mom bought it for me."
She grabbed the branch John and Melissa were sitting on. Their legs dangled just next to her hands. She was almost there. One more limb to climb.
Her hands slipped.
Her head smacked the limb beneath her as she tumbled to the ground. She landed on her back, her head smacking the ground. Her eyes rolled back in her head.
"The dummy fell!" Melissa said.
Rachel cried. She tried to roll over, but she couldn't move. She couldn't even see. She had never been so scared in her life. Not even in her bed at night, before Mom checked the closet for monsters.
"Mommy! Help!"
John and his friends climbed down the tree. They all leaned over her.
"Be quiet!" Melissa said. "You're gonna get us all in trouble."
"Whoa. What's wrong with her eyes?" Michael said.
"Please, go get my Mommy."
"Shut up!" John tried to cover her mouth to quiet her down. "Miss Brown will hear you."
Melissa grabbed John's hand and looked at her brother. "Come on. Recess is almost over. Let's just go."
"We'll keep this a secret," Michael said. "It's her own fault she fell."
John nodded. "We'll lie if she tries to get us in trouble."
Rachel heard them running away. She tried to reach in the direction she thought the playground was, but she couldn't move her arm. She couldn't move anything.
"Mommy, Daddy. Help me," she cried.
Her head started to ache. The pain settled all around her eyes. Her hands and feet started tingling.
She heard Miss Brown's voice in the distance.
"Okay, everyone, five minutes left. Start bringing everything in."
Rachel tried to sit up once again, but a sharp pain ran through her back. She cried out. Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped to the ground.
The thought ran through her mind that she might die. No one knew where she was, and no one liked her enough to come looking for her.
She thought there were voices not too far away, from the woods behind the school.
"Oh my God!"
"Come on!"
She heard footsteps running, and then stopping near her. A hand rested on her shoulder.
A girl spoke first. "Are you hurt?"
"I fell," Rachel said, her words slurring somewhat. "From the tree."
"This is Rachel," a boy said. "She's in my class. Why is she talking funny?"
"Let's go get Miss Brown."
"No. I can help her."
"Kevin, don't."
Rachel heard the both of them move away and start whispering to each other. She tried to think of anyone named Kevin in her class. There was only one she could remember. Kevin Mishnar. He always sat in the back. He didn't speak much, never raised his hand to answer any questions. He had an older sister, Kristin, in fourth grade. Everyone made fun of them because they weren't really brother and sister. They were both adopted. Their parents couldn't have children.
They were once again at Rachel's side.
"You shouldn't do this," Kristin said. "You've never done it on a person before."
"Rachel, can you get up?"
"I can't move. My back really hurts. I can't even see anything. Please, get my Mommy and Daddy."
"That sounds bad. Maybe like a broken back or something."
"Kevin-"
"It'll work. It always works. Give me your water."
Kristin sighed. "I don't think we should be doing this."
"Stop, Kristin. Just don't tell Mom and Dad."
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
"Sometimes."
"I'm not stupid
. You're stupid."
"Shut up."
Even through the darkness in front of her eyes, Rachel thought she saw something glow bright blue.
"Rachel, drink this water."
She cried. "I don't want water. I want my Mom and Dad."
The water touched her lips. Too much poured down her throat and she started to choke.
"Not too much!" Kristin said. "Just a little at a time."
"I know. Be quiet."
Rachel put her hand to her throat to try to stop gagging.
She could move her hand.
"Okay, that's good," Kevin said. "A little more."
She felt fingers under her head, lifting her slightly as a bottle was put to her lips.
It was the coldest water she ever drank. It tingled as it went down her throat.
Her legs began to move.
She gripped Kevin's hand to hold the bottle steady. The pain in her back went away.
"See? I told you."
"Okay, okay. Just hurry up."
The darkness went away. She could see again, although everything was blurry. She could see the tree she fell from, the branches and leaves swaying back and forth in the wind.
There were two shapes huddled over her.
"She looks okay. Let's go."
"Do you feel okay, Rachel?"
She blinked a few times, and wiped tears from her eyes. "Yeah."
"Good. Come on, Kristin."
Rachel's head was lowered back to the ground. The two shapes over her ran away.
She managed to sit up and look back in the direction of the playground. The blurriness finally started to disappear.
There was a taller girl running with a boy, hand in hand, as they disappeared around the corner. The kids all ran to the doors as the recess bell rang.
She looked up at the tree, at how high up she fell.
There was no pain as she slowly climbed to her feet. She wasn't even sore.
She reached up to adjust her glasses, but didn't feel them. They were on the ground next to her feet.
She didn't need them to see.
Mom and Dad would never believe her.
Chapter 2
Kevin was in the middle of a nice dream involving a half-naked model when the alarm went off on the table next to the couch. Two weeks into his senior year of high school and he couldn't promise he wouldn't kill the alarm before it was all said and done.
He tossed his blanket off and sat up on the couch. The television was on, but the volume was all the way down. A woman on the news stood in front of a map of town. Kevin didn't need to hear to know it was going to be a hot day.
"Hey Kristin," he called. "You still here?"
She poked her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in her mouth, down the hall in their one bedroom apartment.
"Yeah, I'm here," she said. "I keep telling you. Wake up a half hour early and I'll drive you to school."
"That'll make me the coolest guy. Getting my sister to give me a ride."
"It probably would, with your horny little classmates."
He laughed. Sadly, that was probably the truth. His sister was a very attractive young woman. Long blond hair, bright blue eyes, nice figure. If she were to drop Kevin off in the middle of the senior parking lot, he had not doubt jaws would drop and stupid comments would be made.
Kristin left the bathroom and went into the kitchen, almost tripping on her high heels.
"There's enough milk left for another bowl of cereal."
He nodded. "I'll stop at the store on the way home."
He went to get up from the couch, ready to get started on the day, and froze as his eyes fell on the picture in the middle of their coffee table.
It was a picture of the both of them, along with their parents. It was taken two weeks before they died in the plane crash. They were on their way to a private vacation in Cancun, just the two of them. They never made it.
There were days he would wake up, and barely look at the picture. Then there were mornings he couldn't take his eyes off it, and knew he'd probably be late to school.
"Don't worry about the grocery store," Kristin said. "You can borrow the car when I get home-"
She went quiet when she saw Kevin staring at the picture.
She sat next to him on the couch and put an arm around his shoulders, knowing knew exactly what was on her brother's mind.
"You know you couldn't have saved them, right?"
Kevin said nothing. Both of their lives changed forever on that day. He went from being a freshman in high school, ready to tackle the world, to an orphan. Kristin went from graduating high school, with dreams of college, to being forced to take care of her younger brother.
He gave Kristin a sideways glance. He felt for her the most. She was twenty-two years old. She was supposed to be having fun, going out with her friends. She wasn't supposed to worry about struggling to pay the rent on their apartment.
"Anyway, like I said. Don't go stopping at the store on your way home. You can take the car when I get home, or I'll just stop after work."
"I like to have dinner ready when you get home."
She smiled and squeezed his shoulders. "I know. Couldn't ask for a better brother. But please, put some shorts on. Seeing you every morning in boxers on the couch kind of ruins my breakfast."
"Funny."
They both stood and went their separate ways. Kevin stumbled into the kitchen. Kristin went to the front door, and then turned.
"Hey, Kevin. I kind of woke up with a headache, and it's not going away. Would you mind?"
He smiled, knowing exactly what she meant.
He grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator. He unscrewed the cap, covered the top with his thumb, and turned the bottle upside down.
The water started to glow bright blue, lighting up the kitchen.
No matter how many times Kristin had seen it in her life, it always amazed her.
Kevin put the cap back on and tossed the bottle across the living room. The blue glow started to vanish. But they both knew whatever it was he did with water, it didn't just go away when the color did. The water would heal anyone who drank it within twenty minutes.
She popped the cap once again and took a deep drink, her headache beginning to fade. She took another drink, and her tense muscles started to unwind.
"Thanks."
He smiled and nodded, then turned his attention back to the refrigerator. She closed the door behind her.
Kevin poured a glass of orange juice as he listened to the quiet apartment. This was his life. It was simple, and he liked it. He wouldn't have minded having his own bedroom, but knew the money they saved on rent was worth it. Kristin and he fought at times over who should have the bedroom, both trying to give it up for the other. But the situation was simple. Kristin was the breadwinner. She needed the room, and the rest.
Sleeping on the couch wasn't so bad.
He smiled as he stole a peek at the bookshelf against the dining room wall. He earned a small share of their money, and Kristin would flip out if she ever found out how.
He looked over the many books they had. Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, Hiroshima, The Great Gatsby, Hamlet. All required reading throughout his time in high school. He wrote papers for other students, and made decent money doing it.
His mood brightened as he got ready for school. Another week or so, and the literature projects would start. Then he'd be busy, and money would roll in.
He put on a pair of jeans and a plain white tee shirt from the hall closet, and then slipped on his favorite jacket to complete the look he took every day to school.
It was a mile and a half walk. He grabbed his backpack and a cereal bar, waving to his parents' picture before leaving the apartment.
*****
"Rachel! Time to wake up or you'll be late to school."
Rachel moaned and turned over in bed. It didn't matter what time she went to sleep. She always felt like a zombie the next morning.
"I don't w
ant to go to school, Mom."
"Tough. Get your ass up."
Rachel smiled. "No. I'm going back to sleep."
"Don't make me come up there."
She heard her mother's wheelchair stop at the bottom of the steps.
"That would be a neat trick, Mom."
"Oh, you're funny, young lady. Nancy will be here any minute. You want me to send her up there after you?"
"Okay, okay. I'm getting up."
"That's what I thought."
Rachel stepped into her private bathroom that was connected to her bedroom. She heard Nancy arrive downstairs as she turned on the shower. Her father was seldom home, always away on business. Her mother had spent the past ten years in a wheelchair. Multiple sclerosis. Nancy was a private nurse who was paid very well to spend most of her time with Rachel and her family. She did everything, cooking, cleaning. She was a part of the family.
Rachel indulged in the hot shower longer than she should have, as always. She was in a good mood, but that started to slide away as she got ready for school. The routine was always the same.
She sighed as she looked into her closet. No matter what clothes she wore, what shoes she picked out, no one would pay attention to her. No one would talk to her. No guy would step up and introduce himself.
She had grown used to it over the years. Still, some days were harder than others.
She was an average girl, didn't stand out in any way. She wasn't on the cheerleading squad, like Melissa Johnson. She wasn't a star athlete, like Tessa Hayes. She was a school news reporter, nerdy and smart, with hair that hung in front of her face, who didn't get enough sun.
School was a part of her life she dreaded. Her favorite part was when the final bell of the day rang, and she could work on the school newspaper and website with the few friends she had.
Mom was already in the dining room. Nancy was in the monstrous kitchen Dad had redone a few years ago.
“Morning,” Nancy called. “You want some pancakes and sausage?”
“That sounds great.”
Rachel sat at the table and looked at her family. Wheelchair or not, Mom was still the most beautiful woman she knew. Strangely, Mom's multiple sclerosis only made her more beautiful. She had her bad days, where every muscle hurt. But she never complained, never lashed out at life.
A Witch to Live Page 1