Destruction: The December People, Book One

by Sharon Bayliss

  “Kids need to blow off steam,” she had said. “It’s better than them doing it in real life.”

  This conversation, as many of his memories, had new meaning now. Had she really meant that fantasy killing would make them less likely to kill people? Did she think this was a real risk? Was that why her parents encouraged her to start murdering adorable animals when she was six?

  David’s stomach filled with acid. As much as he had denied it aloud… what Rachel had said made him wonder about Crystal’s death. The most logical answer would be that the murderous child rapist might have lied or was simply too crazy to have any grasp on reality. So, why did it feel plausible? Evangeline acted so cold about her mother. Said she deserved to die. Didn’t want to have a memorial. And Xavier hadn’t mentioned her at all. Perhaps they had felt so trapped, they could only escape by killing their parents. Maybe they had planned to kill both of them and Whitman got away. And, if they had? Did that even matter? Whitman certainly deserved to die. And Crystal hadn’t been the same person he had loved. Maybe she deserved it too. But still… he wished he knew. Spells did misfire. James had simply wished his partner happiness and killed fifteen people. What if David’s anger toward Crystal’s killer accidently became a spell he didn’t know he had cast? What if it hit his son?

  He watched them for a moment, then went back into his office. He had expected to find Emmy waiting to assault him with questions about the mysterious woman. Maybe she would wait for a more dramatic moment, such as at the dinner table in front of everyone. He looked at the envelope sitting squarely in the middle of his desk. He could call the police. But what if they messed it up again? In the spell, she had intended David to kill him. What would happen if he didn’t? And if he called the police, he would never get the opportunity to kill him himself. To make sure he really died this time. It scared him that this played into his decision-making. He wasn’t a killer. He couldn’t even kill a deer without feeling sick.

  But the deer had been innocent.

  alking to Xavier about what he wanted for dinner intimidated David, and now he had to ask him something much more important. He had to know, before he did whatever he would do to Colter. In case he used any magic against Colter, he wanted his mind to be in harmony with the facts.

  Later that afternoon, Xavier washed the Expedition in the driveway. The keys dangled from his jeans pocket, and David guessed Amanda had let him pull the Expedition out of the garage himself. Seeing him do something as common and domestic as washing a car made Xavier seem different from the boy he had met only nine weeks ago. He looked older, and the same silence that had made him seem timid and afraid now made him seem focused and calm.

  “What did you do?” David asked.

  Xavier paused his sponging. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re washing the car. Is it a punishment from Amanda?”

  He smirked. “No. I like it. And I want to be useful.”

  “Good work ethic on top of everything else. And you don’t want to wash the car with magic?”

  “I can’t do that. Or if I could, it would take much more effort than just doing it by hand.”

  “Good to know. I had been wondering if there was a spell for household chores. Tell me, is there a spell for sorting recyclables? I hate that.”

  Xavier gave David one of his mom’s half smiles and shook his head.

  “Can you take a break so I can talk to you about something real quick? We can sit on the porch… it’s kind of important.”

  Xavier squeezed out his sponge and looked younger again. “What is it?”

  “Just sit down. You haven’t done anything wrong or anything like that.” That statement could be easily contested, and he wished he had phrased it differently. After all, he wanted to ask Xavier if he had murdered his mother.

  Xavier sat down next to David on the porch swing. He still had the sponge in his hands and squeezed it absently.

  “Um…” David said. He had practiced this, but, still, this would be rough. He had thought talking to Jude about condoms had been uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine what it would have been like to live with… that man. I’m sure if it had been me, I would have wanted to do just about anything to get away.”

  As always, David had trouble reading Xavier’s expression. “Okay,” he said.

  “I think you were brave to be able to escape and save your sister too.” Xavier seemed too still, and David wondered if he was still there. But unlike before, Xavier looked him in the eye. David could tell Xavier didn’t breathe much. David didn’t either, for that matter. He took a deep breath to remind Xavier to do the same. Perhaps subconsciously, Xavier did mimic David with a shallower but still audible breath.

  “Was there anything else you did that I don’t know about? Anything you did to save yourself and your sister?”

  Xavier sat back in the swing and turned slightly away from him. He blinked his eyes a few times and rubbed them, as if he struggled to stay awake. Maybe he had to focus to stay present, which seemed brave on its own.

  “Did she tell you something?” he asked quietly.

  For a second, David thought he meant Rachel, but that made little sense. He must have meant Evangeline, the only she who would have known what had happened. Xavier put down his sponge and rubbed his arms as if he wanted start a fire. David didn’t know how much longer he’d stay present. He wanted to reach into Xavier’s mind and take the memory as Amanda had done to him. That way, he would have the answers and Xavier would never have to remember. Then it all popped into place. It came to him so clearly that David knew his desire for the answer had manifested itself into a spell. He already had all the pieces, and with a little magic, all the pieces came into place.

  David had assumed when Rachel said Xavier killed his mother, she had meant he had killed her in the traditional sense. He hadn’t taken magic into account. Evangeline had told David that Xavier had cast a spell to find him. David guessed it had been something similar to the catalyst spell his brother had cast. A spell to find their real father with the ultimate intent of changing their circumstances for the better. But as James learned the hard way, the wizard couldn’t choose the means, only the ends. And, if the wizard was dark, the means would be destruction.

  “I think I know what happened,” David said. “It’s not your fault.”

  Xavier became even more still. David wanted grab his wrist and check for a pulse.

  “Xavier,” he continued. “It’s really not your fault. I’m not angry. You had good intentions. Was it a catalyst spell?”

  Xavier still didn’t move. David should just shut up, give him some space, but he couldn’t resist the urge to unfreeze him. He wanted him to say something… anything… so he knew he hadn’t faded into oblivion.

  “How did it happen?” David asked. “Did he kill her like they said, or did it happen in some other way? Perhaps even, peacefully?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  David could barely hear him.

  “I didn’t want to,” Xavier continued. “But I must not have… said it right. After I cast the spell, she never came back into the house. I found her outside. She had tripped and hit her head on a rock. She was bleeding. I killed my mom.”

  Xavier stood as if fire covered him and he needed water.

  “Son, calm down. You didn’t mean to. You can’t even prove it was you. It could have been an accident. A coincidence.”

  Xavier ran down the steps. David didn’t anticipate his plan. He still had the keys. He jumped into the driver’s seat of the still soapy Expedition and turned the ignition. As he pulled out, he busted an ornamental flowerpot. The kid didn’t know how to drive on a good day, and he could barely stay present while sitting on the porch.

  David sprinted into the house to grab his own set of keys and then dove into the Mercedes, but as soon as he made it down the driveway, he couldn’t see the Expedition anymore. He drove to the main road and still didn’t see him.

  David tried to calm
himself. Xavier would cool off and come back. Colter didn’t know Xavier was now alone and unguarded. But as soon as he thought it, the panic flooded back in. Colter was a powerful wizard. Who knew what he could do? Phrases he’d heard in the past few months swam in David’s head. Wizards are hopelessly connected. Wizards can always find each other.

  David drove around looking for the Expedition, but Amanda called him thirty minutes later and said Xavier had returned. He should have known better than to panic. Xavier wouldn’t stay away from Evangeline for long.

  amantha was officially Patrick’s girlfriend, so it took effort not to smile like an idiot all the time. He had to play it cool. If he didn’t pretend their coupling made sense, Samantha might notice her choice in boyfriends had violated the rules of time and space.

  When Dad talked to him about his newfound good fortunes, he didn’t accuse him of using love potions or mind control spells. He only said she couldn’t be in his room with the door closed. He said, “The Carthages dropped off one girl with us, and I plan to return one girl.”

  Other than that, he got the sense Dad wanted to high-five him.

  Patrick and Emmy might end up ripping off Samantha’s arms in a tug-of-war match. But aside from that, Emmy tolerated them. When he asked her if she minded, she said, “It’s gross, but whatever, I’m just glad she didn’t get with Jude.”

  When he asked why, she just shrugged.

  So, three days before Christmas, Samantha leaned into him on the couch like he was her own personal armchair, and he ran his fingers along her smooth thighs while he watched her paint her toenails lavender. It might be all in his head because he knew she was a spring witch, but she smelled of cut grass and honeysuckle. Which made him wonder if he smelled of dead leaves and rotting pumpkins.

  “Do you feel different being around dark wizards all the time?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Evangeline said it could be dangerous for you. Sap your energy or something like that.”

  She huffed. “No. I’m not worried about being around them. They should be worried about me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “What’s the only thing that can break the winter?”

  “What?”

  “The spring, of course.”

  Patrick laughed. “That’s awesome.”

  “We’re the toughest wizards. No matter how cold or long the winter, we break through the ice. Every single year, since the dawn of time.”

  “And you look pretty when you do it too. All covered in flowers.”

  “That’s sweet.” She wiggled closer to him. He put his arms around her and pulled her even closer, his hands grazing the bottom of her breasts.

  “Now I can’t reach my toes,” she said with another playful wiggle.

  “So?”

  “I can reach your fingernails,” she said, reaching toward him with her brush.

  “All right fine. I’ll let you go.”

  “I only need my arms.”

  “So, what is it like having spring wizards for parents?”

  “Mostly… embarrassing. The truth is, I wished they would disappear all the time. But I do miss them now. Despite being annoying, they have a good attitude about life. They don’t get stressed out much and just go with the flow. I’ve never been quite like that, but I’m more easygoing than a winter witch. Talk about taking yourself too seriously. Your family needs to lighten up sometimes. Have a party. Dance or sing or something. They must get tired of being themselves all the time.”

  “Yeah. I think they do.”

  “What about you? What’s it like being an autumn wizard?”

  “I don’t know. I’m the only one I know.”

  “I think autumn wizards are supposed to be practical and smart. They’re the most levelheaded. Like the ducks that fly south and the squirrels that store their nuts before the cold. They’re prepared for what’s coming and know how to survive it.”

  “I don’t feel prepared.”

  “Maybe that’s why you know when something bad is about to happen.”

  “One second isn’t a lot of time to store nuts.”

  “It may get longer once you get better at it.”

  He didn’t like that idea. Patrick had the sense his life would be full of things he’d rather not know about any sooner than he had to. Humans could call it paranoia or anxiety, but Patrick couldn’t count on that. His fear could be prophecy.

  Patrick woke up at 12:57 a.m. He saw the big red numbers hovering in the dark room. He waited for the sound he predicted. The one that woke him up before it happened. But nothing came. It reminded him of the feeling he had when he woke up the night Emmy jumped down the stairs. Something was about to happen. He lay awake waiting, but after a few minutes passed with nothing but silence, he fell back asleep.

  When Patrick got out of bed the next morning, he found Emmy standing outside Jude’s room. She stared at his closed door. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she was cold, but the house felt plenty warm. The look on her face made her look more like Dad than Mom. The slanted eyebrows screamed Dad.

  “What are you doing?” Patrick asked. He didn’t even know why he asked anymore.

  “He’s in there,” Emmy said.

  Patrick looked at the door. “Who? Jude? Yeah, I’m sure he is. I saw him swipe some vodka from the liquor cabinet last night. He’ll probably be out for a while. Is Samantha still asleep?” he asked.

  “Shower,” Emmy said.

  Patrick continued past her toward the stairs. “You do know that standing outside your brother’s door waiting for him to wake up is really weird?”

  “Mmm, hmm,” Emmy said absently.

  n the morning of December 24th, David wrapped the earrings he had bought Amanda. He’d hoped he would come up with something better, but he hadn’t. If he bought something too expensive, she would be mad at him for spending the last of their money on a gift. But, this year, she deserved a truckload of diamonds. He couldn’t win. A month had passed since she had given in to him in the dining room, and he hoped another holiday would weaken her resolve. But love or lust would have to do it, because the eighty-dollar earrings he had bought her wouldn’t have her ripping off her clothes.

  He placed the small box under their colossal tree. On his way to the kitchen, he said good morning to Evangeline, who used the bear-shaped honey bottle to design an elaborate pattern on her plate, which looked like a flower or a spider web. While David rummaged through the pantry, Jude came in and poured himself a generous helping of Cheerios. He took the honey from Evangeline and squirted it on his cereal, an act that caused Xavier to appear from nowhere and stand between Jude and his sister.

  “What?” Jude asked. “I can’t use the fucking honey?”

  “Jude, calm down,” David said.

  Jude slammed the little bear back on the table and took his cereal into the living room. David followed him, although he knew any attempt at a father-son chat would be met with shouting and being doused with Cheerios and milk. But David wouldn’t get the chance to try.

  Patrick came from the bottom of the stairs looking like a different person. His hazel eyes had an extra gleam of gold and were locked on Jude. The ferocity in his movements made him look a foot taller. As mad as Patrick looked, David couldn’t have anticipated what happened next. Jude turned around in enough time to see Patrick shove him so hard he went careening backward through the glass coffee table.

  Without hesitation, Patrick approached his fallen brother and stepped on his neck. After a moment of stunned shock, David moved in to tackle Patrick before he killed his brother, but he didn’t need to. Jude grabbed Patrick’s leg and used a spell to make Patrick fall back. Patrick tumbled to the ground and tried to get back up but stumbled again as if he had suddenly become dizzy or drunk.

  Jude coughed and wheezed, clutching his neck. He had spots of blood on his shirt and arms where the glass had cut him, but none of them looked large. David kneeled down beside him, glass diggi
ng into his knee, but Jude knocked his hand away. He wheezed something that sounded like, “okay”, scrambled to his feet, then went out the front door.

  “What the fuck?” David shouted at Patrick.

  Patrick clung to the couch, trying to pull himself back up and didn’t respond. David followed Jude but didn’t make it in time. Jude had taken the keys off the ring by the door and had driven away in his truck.

  David and Amanda sat across from Emmy at the kitchen table. Emmy looked as if she had dimmed the lights under her skin, in an attempt to become invisible. It wouldn’t surprise David if she popped out of existence right there in the kitchen. David put his hand right above his stomach where acid climbed toward his throat. He had already thrown up twice. He wanted to crawl into bed and not come out, but he had to be a father. He needed to be here, experiencing the worst conversation of his entire life.

  “Am I in trouble?” Emmy asked.

  “Uh…” Amanda said. Her incoherent spluttering was still better than he could do. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell us sooner,” she whispered.

  Emmy stared at the table.

  “Emmy, answer me.” Amanda said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They both spoke so quietly, David had to lean in.

  “Am I in trouble?” she asked again.

  “Well… no,” Amanda said. “I’m just trying to understand. I mean, you were there?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” Amanda said.