Soul Thing

by Lana Pecherczyk

  That’s right. If she can do it, so can you.

  My thoughts weren’t my own. It was as if someone spoke to me from deep inside my messed-up mind. I pushed the notion away, vaguely excusing my insanity as self-diagnosed post traumatic stress.

  I wouldn’t leave the symbol of my independence scarred and blemished, alone in the barren carpark of a public hospital. My lips curled into a grimace, then a snarl. Those people had taken enough from me, they would not take my freedom.

  I closed my eyes and grew still, gathering bits of data and crafting a formula to solve my problem. I leaned in. The paint fumes singed my nose, but I focused on the red shiny bubbles. I traced the words with my fingers following the bumps and grooves of metal, warmed in the afternoon sun. I stroked the dirt bike’s body as if it were a baby.

  Voices in the background interrupted my concentration. Kitty was talking to someone in a hushed voice.

  I ignored them.

  “Shhh.” I adjusted my footing and rested my head against the surface of the bike so I could look down the length of its body. My eyes fluttered, my vision focused. Calm settled over my body and I centered myself. “Nobody puts baby in the corner,” I murmured.

  There was a choking sound behind me as someone tried not to laugh.

  “What are you doing, Roo?” Tommy asked.

  “Shhh,” I hissed again and stroked the graffiti. Warmth radiated from my fingertips, hotter than the sun-heated metal. I let my energy extend from my fingers, slide beneath the tacky surface and act like a spatula. The paint peeled as my fingers swept under the words, and a chorus of gasps broke out behind me.

  The graffiti separated from the bike and I let it hang, suspended mid air as I narrowed my eyes at its unwavering redness. A bitter taste entered my mouth, a snarl moved up from my stomach and out my throat. I dropped the vile matter, and it fell soundlessly to the ground. My bike looked as good as new, well almost. A bit of buffing and shining and I’d have my baby back. I stood to face my spectators.

  Tommy and Cash stood behind Kitty. They didn’t look too happy with me. Tommy was pale and Cash grimaced beneath his aviator glasses, his tattooed arms crossed. His silence screamed at me. I knew I shouldn’t have done that in public.

  Oh, shit. I’d just done something witchy in front of Tommy. He lifted his blue baseball cap, scratched his head, and put it on backwards.

  “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.” He glanced around the lot. He took a step towards me and reached to grab my arm. “I reckon you should have waited until we got home to do that, Roo. Let’s motor before someone sees us and calls the police.”

  “We need to talk.” Cash cleared his throat and jerked his head to the waiting Jeep. “Tommy, wait for me in the car. Kitty, if you don’t mind, I need to speak with my charge, unless she wants to wind up behind bars again.”

  “Babe, I’ll meet you back at work okay?” Kitty spoke to me but her soft features hardened when she took in Cash’s stern expression. “Call me if you need me okay?”

  She climbed in her car and pulled away with a regal wave.

  I palmed my forehead, staring into space. What could I say? Cash was right, whatever he was going to say, he’d be right. I was in his custody and I’d left without a word, then exercised my abilities in public. I glanced at Tommy. He wiped his palms down his gray t-shirt and let them run onto his denim shorts. Surely after seeing with his own eyes what I could do, he’d be afraid of me. But it wasn’t me he grimaced at, it was Cash.

  Cash waited for his brother to grumble his way back to the Jeep and then turned on me. He ripped off his mirrored glasses to reveal the blue and brown fury in his eyes. His jaw tightened. I couldn’t stand the silence.

  “How did you know where I was?” I asked.

  “I put a tracer on your bike.” His words were short and clipped. “I would’ve come earlier, but I was busy. I’ve left a message with the staff at the Urser Estate Cellar Door to expect you at some point during the festival. If she’s not already watching you, word will get to Petra, so if she’s serious about getting to you, she’ll come.” His voice was icy. “You were supposed to stay at the house.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Tommy was a mess and—what are you wearing?” His gaze ran down my outfit and he lost some of the tension in his stance. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “That’s not really appropriate for riding a bike, don’t you think?”

  “I had to borrow from Kitty, I’d left suddenly and…” I had intended to runaway. “I’m sorry I left without saying anything.”

  He paused for a moment, then nodded. “You need to make a decision about the mentor ritual—your father, or me. Marc has declared you a contender, and it’s already been twenty-four hours. If you haven’t chosen by tomorrow, the decision will be taken from you.”

  I sighed. This business again. “Can’t I just not do it? My father’s gone walkabout and unless he’s caught wind of everything, I’m not expecting him to turn up. No offense to you, Cash, but we just met. It sounds like a big responsibility for a stranger. Besides, I don’t even know what the process involves. Are there contracts or something?”

  He glanced at the Jeep. “That’s why we need to talk. Privately.”

  “Can we do it at The Cauldron? I have to get to work.”

  “There’s something else you should know.” He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. “There are a few more restrictions in place. We don’t have time for you to work at The Cauldron; there’s too much prep to be done.”

  “But, I have to work!”

  “I don’t think so. I can’t trust you to stay put when I say so. Why would I be lenient about this?”

  “I’m sorry, okay? I promise I’ll listen, and… I’ll do the ritual thingy. We can do it tonight. I just… I thought I wanted to leave, but I don’t okay? It’s better I stay here, with friends.”

  “You were leaving?” He gave me a concerned sidelong glance, then flashed a look skywards. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Fine, you can work but tonight’s the last time I cave to your demands. After this we do it my way.”

  “Thank you.” I scanned the contents of the letter to hide my smile of triumph, but it didn’t last. “Holy crap. This treaty has taken us back to the dark ages.”

  My knees weakened, and I braced myself on the seat of my bike. I stared at my baby longingly. I wouldn’t be riding her much longer.

  “I can’t go anywhere in public without a man to hold my hand,” I said under my breath. Seeing the truth in black and white made it real.

  “You don’t have to hold hands; you just need an escort.” He stood close, leaning in to review the letter. He smelled like sun-dried linen and rain in the springtime. He pointed. “See? ‘No woman can be seen in public alone without the escort of her sponsored male.’ Nothing about hand holding.”

  He held up a black rubber band. “This is a GPS tracker. Women are required to wear it at all times.”

  “What?” The notion floored me. I finally understood why Kitty had been so devastated. If Alvin didn’t get better, she’d be shipped to the city and tracked like an animal. Then again, Cash had already tracked me.

  “Sit.” Cash pointed to my bike. He didn’t sound enthused. “We’ll put this on before we leave. I was hoping to stake out your aunt’s house tonight, but I guess I’ll be watching you work instead.”

  “Can’t Tommy do it?” I asked. “Watch me at the bar I mean?”

  “Tommy is not your sponsor.”

  I hitched my skirt and straddled the bike, resting the paper on my handlebars. I held out one strappy sandal in Cash’s direction. “It says here that females aren’t allowed to drive.”

  “Humph.”

  I pointed to another law. “And look, a woman can’t hold a job without her father’s, husband’s or male guardian’s permission. This is crazy.”

  He ignored me, knelt, took off my shoe and slipped the rubber band onto my ankle. It snapped back to its origi
nal shape.

  “And we can’t buy alcohol. What the hell does that have to do with being a witch?”

  He squeezed the band and blue, flashing lights circled the rubber. He then replaced my shoe and, with a hand on my knee, spoke quietly. “I know it’s been a lot for you to take in, but even though you and I are not ordinary, we still live in this world, we need to abide by its rules. It’s part of the whole appeal of the Game… apparently it makes it more stimulating or some shit. Look, you fuck up, you lose. Whether it’s the Gamekeeper or someone else who takes you out, you lose. You go back to the Empire worse off than before. You don’t want that do you?”

  I didn’t answer. I was too busy focusing on how his fingers felt warm, hot even. He picked up my discarded jacket and used my knee to lever himself up. When he let go, I was almost disappointed.

  The skin pinched around his eyes when he looked at me. “If you ever disappear again, I’m taking you straight to jail and I’ll leave you there to rot. This will be your last night working at The Cauldron and your last few days in this town. I’d close off all ties tonight if I were you.” He flicked a look at my outfit. “And here”—he handed me the yellow jacket—“put that on. What you’re wearing is unsafe for that mode of transport.”

  He turned towards the Jeep and looked over his shoulder at me. “Because you’ll have to get rid of your bike soon, I’ll let you have one last ride. We’ll follow you to work.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DESPITE THE NEW protocols and laws, the bar filled quickly, and I lost myself in the duties of a barmaid. The floor had been scrubbed with bleach so evidence of the recent traumatic events had vanished. The resilience of the human race astounded me. No matter how bad a tragedy, we always bounced back.

  Maybe the crowd was there for a last hurrah and a farewell to the freedom of woman, or maybe it was curiosity about the state of political affairs and what it meant to our little, coastal town. It was certainly my last hurrah. Every menial task held a special meaning, from cleaning the beer-slop tray to restocking the fridge. I knew it was the last time I’d be doing any of it, but my melancholy was laced with nerves. What would my future entail? In the end, it became so busy that I had no time to worry. Even Joe jumped on the bar, took orders for meals and ran them out when ready.

  I felt alive.

  The excitement literally buzzed off patrons as they walked in the door. The frequency of their energy rose and fell as they spoke to me making the true meaning behind their words apparent. Spikes in their aura meant they lied, calm vibrating waves meant they didn’t. I was a human lie detector and, since it was my last night, I threw in a little extra show to help Joe keep his business on the popular side. Hopefully, word would get around and he’d have a level of mystery shrouding his establishment well after I was gone. I was a veritable polygraph machine and loved it. It was the first time in my life I felt free to be myself.

  Towards the end of the night, I was having so much fun, I barely noticed the music start. I spotted Tommy bopping around with a couple of age-appropriate bimbos and looked for his brother. He seemed rather bored on the sidelines with a beer in one hand and a cute blonde on the other. She kept combing her hands through his short hair, giving him a porcupine effect. His attention focused on an undetermined spot in the distance.

  “Tsk tsk. Just look at that tart with her hands all over him. Can’t she see she’s embarrassing herself?” Kitty pulled out her compact from under the bar and inspected her face.

  “Huh?” I pretended to not hear her, then thanked my last customer, glad for a short reprieve. People filed onto the dance floor and their energy swelled and pulsed with the music. I had a sudden pang of jealousy and wished I wasn’t stuck behind the bar. I felt the pull of the rhythm in my bones, vibrating and tingling my insides. It didn’t help to see the touching and feeling going on between loved-up couples. I longed to be in there, to be one of them.

  I missed touching.

  Despite how it ended with Steve, we’d had some good times and feeling nostalgic, I missed him too. But he’d morphed into a stalker so suddenly after we took our relationship to the next level that the emotion was short lived. The memory coaxed a frown from me. Sabina had said a hex could be transferred through blood, saliva or other bodily fluid. Did I think the wrong things when Steve and I’d made love? Did he become obsessed with me because I inadvertently cast a hex? I shivered at what that thought said for my future love life and shelved a glass beneath the bench.

  Kitty placed a glass beside mine. “What happened at the hospital after I left?”

  “This is my last night. I haven’t told Joe yet, but I don’t have control of my own fate anymore, seems like Cash does, unless I’m willing to let my father, or some random back into my life.”

  “He’s making you move back to the US with him? I knew it! Wow—I so knew it. He must really like you, babe.”

  “No it’s not like that; I’m not moving to the US. It’s to do with his work, he travels a lot and...” How could I explain Cash’s sudden interest in me?

  “Babe, I got news for you. When a guy makes a commitment like that, it’s not for work. Well, he doesn’t seem so bad, hey? Better than a stranger, or a police officer. Life’s short, even shorter for women these days.” She waved her GPS adorned leg at me. “Babe, you gotta take your wins when you can.” She paused and touched my hair. “Well, apart from the frizz, the red suits you.

  “It was an accident though.”

  “Well, make more happy accidents. There are no mistakes in life, just regrets. It’ll all work out.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Girl, I’m always right, when will you get that?”

  We laughed, and I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I needed to laugh—it felt good. That was until I noticed Tommy swaggering to the bar with eyes puffed into alcohol-induced slits. Cash looked rather the same. I guessed I’d be driving home and leaving my bike alone to fend for herself.

  “Howdy there, Miss. Kitty Muse.” Tommy flushed and averted his eyes as Kitty leaned over the bar with a smile, half exposing her ample goods.

  “Please, call me Kitty.” She pouted and took the empty glass from his hand. She winked at me as she turned her back on him to grab a fresh glass. “So, tell me Tommy, is Cash dating someone back home?”

  Tommy snorted and rolled his eyes. “Cash don’t date, Miss. Kitty, he has relations.”

  “And what, pray tell, does that mean?” Kitty asked.

  “Well, you know… the rumpy pumpy.”

  “I know what it means. What I meant was, does he have commitment issues? Why is he not married? Is he an ax murderer or something?”

  “Gee, Miss. Kitty. That boy has more problems than a math book, let alone commitment issues. But he ain’t no ax murderer, I can assure you of that. He’s got his righteous stick so far up his—” Tommy flashed his eyes at me and stopped. He placed his hat on the bench and apologized for his unkind words.

  “You sure you want another drink?” I asked him and took the glass out of Kitty’s hands.

  He hiccupped and squinted. “Maybe not.”

  “Why don’t you go dance it off.” I grinned at him and his ears turned red. He leaned his elbows on the bench, slipped to the side and knocked his hat off. When he’d recovered it, he dropped his chin in his hands and gazed at me. “You’re so pretty Roo, I could look at your smile all day.”

  “Oh dear, you’ve definitely had too much to drink. You sure you didn’t have one of those potions?” I joked, pointing to the cocktail list.

  “You know we slept together last night,” he said to Kitty. “I got proof. You wanna see?”

  My jaw dropped. It was my turn to blush.

  Kitty fiddled with the sound system, preparing for her show, then sashayed over. She rested her hip on the bench top then ruffled his hair. “Aww you’re so cute Tommy. I could just squeeze your little school boy cheeks.”

  “I ain’t no school boy.” His eyes darted to me and he
shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “I know.” I shooed him back to the dance floor.

  Joe popped his balding head through the kitchen door. “Kitchen’s closed. Kitty-Kat, you ready to get on stage?”

  She nodded and smoothed her black-collared shirt. “Got something special for tonight, babe. I’ve been working on this one for weeks and my girls are dying to get out of this horrid top.” She squished her breasts together and pushed open the kitchen door with her butt, smirking as she left.

  I turned back to the bar to find the last person I expected to see.

  “Hi, Roo.” Jed smiled sheepishly. He wore a maroon shirt and jeans. He straightened his collar like it was too tight.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here, considering you arrested me a few days ago.”

  “Yeah about that… look, I’m real sorry for everything. I didn’t believe a word of it but had to do my job. You understand don’t you?”

  I nodded. I could sense that he was telling the truth. It hurt, but I understood where he was coming from. “So, why are you here?”

  “I’m off duty and, despite what you think, I don’t have it out for you, quite the opposite. I guess I just wanted to come and see what it’s all about.” He eyed my outfit hesitantly. “And to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m okay. Thanks for asking. You’ll probably be disappointed, though. No real witches here tonight.”

  “Oh? How can you tell?”

  “The hunter is here, and he would have said something.”

  “That’s right, your new guardian.” Jed’s gaze swept the room. He licked his lips and leaned in. “There’s something I have to tell you. The Inquisitor has been stirring the pot at the station. He’s got some officers worked up about your release and he’s cooking up something with the local PAW group.”

  “People-Against-Witches? They’re all talk and no bite.”

  “They’re more than that. He’s been holding meetings and discussing alternative methods for this witch hunt—even though he’s not sanctioned to be on it.” He nodded to one of our house beer taps. “I’ll have a pint of that one, thanks.”