Witch Ball - BK 3

by Linda Joy Singleton

  "Yeah. I saw him," Dominic said with a wry twist of his lips. "Nice clown suit."

  The way he said "nice" didn't sound very nice at all. More like "stupid and ridiculous." I pursed my lips and said in a cool tone, "Josh is the most generous person I know. Not many guys would give their time for a good cause. He's considerate and wonderful."

  "And makes sure everyone knows it."

  "That's not true. He cares about people-unlike you."

  "I care about select people."

  "Well Josh isn't selective and tries to make the world a better place. He entertains sick kids in hospitals and at school even the teachers respect him."

  Dominic shrugged. "If you say so."

  "You don't know anything about him."

  "But I know plenty about you. "He gave me a deep look. "Can you say the same for josh?"

  "Things have never been better with us," I lied.

  "So you haven't told him about ... ?" He didn't need to finish. Just remembering that stormy kiss made my stomach feel funny.

  "No-and I don't plan to."

  "Afraid he'll get the wrong idea about us?"

  "There is no us." Dominic was so close I could smell his earthy, fresh scent. I stepped away and added firmly, "What happened in Pine Peaks meant nothing."

  "Sure about that?"

  "Positive. We don't need to feel guilty."

  "I don't." He abruptly crossed the room to a mahogany dresser.

  While I stood there, not sure what to say or why my face felt so hot, he opened a drawer and withdrew the engraved box that my grandmother had left with him. The box had belonged to my ancestor Agnes and held clues to the location of the lost remedy. When Nona had asked me to search with Dominic, she'd shown me what was inside the box: a family Bible, a photograph of my ancestor Agnes with her four daughters, and two silver charms. Each daughter took a charm when they were split up after Agnes's death. We had two of the charms: a tiny silver cat and a house.

  "I found something out," Dominic said, lifting the lid on the box.

  "Where the other charms are?" I asked hopefully.

  "Not yet. But I showed these to a jeweler."

  "Good idea. What'd you learn?"

  "They're made of an impure silver that could date back to the Nevada silver strikes."

  "Agnes said she was going out west. You think she ended up in Nevada?"

  "I plan to find out."

  "How?"

  "By going there Saturday."

  "Were you planning to leave without telling me?" I folded my arms across my chest. "Well forget it. I'm going too."

  "Fine with mebut your boyfriend might not like it."

  "He won't mind." Especially ifEvan has told him what happened at my last school. Of course I didn't say that, but thinking it was scary. I liked how my life was and didn't want anything to change.

  Dominic was staring at me in that intense way again. Uneasy, I turned from him, saying I had to get back before Amy woke up. Then I hurried out of the loft.

  Once in my bedroom, I closed the door behind me. Amy was sleeping with one arm thrown to the side and the other cradling her pillow. Tangled black hair curled around her shoulders and her soft breathing was relaxed. I envied her innocence, knowing my future dreams would be far from peaceful.

  I crossed over to my wall calendar by my desk. I picked up a pen and made a note on Saturday: Nevada/Dominic.

  Looking at the calendar, each dated square of empty white loomed ominously. Moments left of my life. I thought of the deadly witch ball prediction. Five days from yesterday. Placing my finger on today's date, I traced a path across the squares, counting down four more days.

  Thursday, I realized with a sick feeling.

  Would I make it to Saturday?

  I had to take control of my future-no matter how short it might be. I was playing a dangerous game where losing could be fatal.

  Waiting for calendar days to pass would make me crazy, so I needed to discover what powers I was up against. But I'd already asked Opal, and her answers were less than reassuring. I couldn't ask Nona for advice without risking her health. I considered holding a seance, but Nona had warned me never to invite unknown spirits into our home. So what else could I do?

  That's when I had a great idea. Okay, it wasn't that great, but it was the only idea I had, and it was better than sitting around hoping to hear from Josh. I knew he wouldn't call me until after noon since he liked to sleep in late on weekends. Jill, on the other hand, boasted about being an early riser.

  I left a note for Amy and Nona, then pulled my bike out of the garage and headed for Jill's house, which was about a mile away.

  Jill's stepfather, a scrawny, bearded middleaged guy named Phil, answered the door in teddy bear boxer shorts and a T-shirt stretched over his belly. "You're too late," he told me. "Jill left for her job already."

  Too late? But it wasn't even nine o'clock yet! And what job? Jill was always lecturing the squad that their full-time job was to balance cheerleading and schoolwork. She warned that missed practices or failing grades could get them kicked off the squad.

  Phil told me she was at the CVJ Plant, only a few miles away. So I hopped on my bike again. The crisp morning air felt great and I realized I was enjoying myself. Amy and I would have to go biking later. I'd taught my sisters how to ride when they were little and we used to go riding a lot ... before things changed.

  The CVJ Plant was the largest employer in Sheridan Valley. They made pipes and all kinds of industrial materials. Big trucks with the CVJ logo lumbered regularly up and down the roads. But on Sunday morning, the parking lot was almost deserted, only a few cars and semi-trucks. Hulking, darkened buildings appeared locked. I had no idea how to find Jill-until I noticed a side door propped open. Parking my bike under a tree, I approached the door.

  "Jill?" I called out, peering inside what appeared to be some sort of delivery entrance. "Anyone here?"

  I heard a muffled answer from the back of the building, so I entered and walked down an echoing hall. No sign of Jill, but as I turned a corner I saw a custodian in a brown uniform, pushing a cleaning cart. Wait a minute-the custodian was Jill!

  Her blue eyes widened when she saw me, and her hands flew to her face. "Sabine!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

  "Looking for you."

  "But how did find me?"

  "Your stepfather told me."

  "I'll kill him!" She pursed her lips. "No one was supposed to find out where I worked! This is just great-now everyone will know."

  "So what?" I didn't get why she was so angry. "There's nothing wrong with having a job."

  "Not a job like this." She swept her hand toward the cleaning cart. "I can just imagine PennyLove's reaction when she finds out her squad captain scrubs toilets."

  "She won't care," I insisted although I wasn't really sure. Penny-Love had funny ideas about how people should behave and could be very critical.

  "I'm so busted." She gave me a pleading look. "Please don't tell anyone."

  "I won't say a word."

  "Not even to Penny-Love?"

  I crisscrossed a gesture over my heart. "Promise. And there's something I want from you."

  "Anything. "

  "Tell me what happened yesterday when you went to Manny's booth."

  "Not much." She seemed more relaxed, leaning against the cart. "I only went because Manny is oh-so-fine, like a rebel with a brain. Everyone raves about his predictions and I wanted to see what he'd tell me."

  "What did he say?"

  "Nothing much. The reading was a total dud."

  "Really?" I asked, relieved.

  "Yeah. I know he's your friend, but the whole Mystic Manny act is totally fake." She rolled her eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I still think he's cute and he was great to help out with our fundraiser. But his prediction was so far off, it was pathetic."

  I let out a relieved breath. "So he didn't say anything ... weird?"

  "Just the usual mumbo jumbo you'd expect fro
m a fake."

  "What exactly?"

  "Hmmm . . . let me think." She touched her chin. "He pretended to go into a trance and his crystal ball let off this eerie glow. A way cool special effect."

  "You have no idea," I murmured.

  "The glow got brighter and he kept staring at the ball. Then he spoke my name in a raspy voice and said, `The person you fear will pay you a surprise visit."' She chuckled. "You're my only surprise visitor and I'm not afraid."

  "Nothing scary about me," I managed to say like I was joking.

  "I was hoping for an interesting prediction. Like I'd fall in love with a tall, dark stranger or my mom's lottery numbers would finally win and we'd be rich. But Mystic Manny was a big disappointment."

  "How can you be sure the prediction is fake?"

  "I'm not afraid of anyone."

  "No one at all?" I persisted.

  "No. Well, there used to be but-" She stopped, gripping the handle of a broom. "But he doesn't scare me anymore."

  "If this guy suddenly showed up, would you be afraid?"

  "Can't happen. Impossible."

  "How come?"

  She met my gaze. "He's dead."

  The aroma of cleaners and stale air added to the uncomfortable silence that followed Jill's words. I wasn't sure what to say. On one hand it was reassuring to know that one of Manny's predictions couldn't happen. But it was freaky to see Jill so shaken. I'd always admired her calm confidence, yet now she seemed vulnerable.

  "I didn't mean to bring up awkward stuff," I told her.

  "It's okay." She pushed a stray honey-blond curl from her forehead. "In fact, it feels like I could be real with you and you'd understand my secrets."

  "Well ... thanks. I'm good at keeping secrets."

  "You are, aren't you?" She looked at me curiously. "I always thought you were quiet because you were shy."

  "It's hard to get a word in with Penny-Love around," I joked.

  "Or maybe you don't say much because you have your own secrets."

  "Me?" I feigned shock. "Not unless you count the D on my science test that I hid from my grandmother."

  "Ooh, big crime. You deserve jail time."

  "I confess, I'm guilty." I held out my wrists. "Slap on the handcuffs."

  She pushed my hands away, smiling. "You know, it's nice talking to you like this, without everyone else around. Usually I'm all focused on running the squad."

  "You're good at it and everyone respects you."

  "I got them fooled. You may not know this, but my attitude is one hundred percent bull."

  "Nah. Only eighty percent." We both laughed, then she announced that she was due a break. She left her cleaning supplies and led me to a small room with a couch, kitchenette, and coffeemaker.

  She poured herself coffee and offered me a cup. I wasn't wild about coffee, so I accepted raspberry tea. We settled on the couch and she turned to me with an embarrassed expression. "You must be wondering why I took such a grubby job."

  "Well ... a little," I admitted.

  "I think I can trust you to keep this between us. No one else at school knows."

  Sipping my tea, I waited.

  "I need this job so I can afford cheerleadering. You have no idea how expensive it is-uniforms, cheer camp, and traveling."

  "Don't your mother and stepfather help out?"

  "My stepfather is husband number four, and he's paying child support for three kids of his own. There's never enough money." Jill sighed. "My mother can't save anything either."

  "What about your dad?"

  "He's not around."

  "Still, he should help with your expenses."

  She tensed, looking down at her coffee as she added, "You remember that guy I said I was scared of?"

  "The dead guy?"

  "Yeah ... well..." She met my gaze. "He was my dad."

  I was completely speechless and had no idea how to respond. Finally I managed a feeble, "I'm sorry."

  "Well, I am, too-but not because he's dead. I caused his death. "

  Now I was totally speechless. Mouth-open, jawdropping shock. And I had no clue how to respond without coming off judgmental or insensitive.

  "You must think I'm a horrible person," she said quietly.

  "No ... of course not."

  "Don't be nice. I don't deserve it. I should love my father no matter what ... but I can't ... not after what he did ..." Then suddenly she started telling me more than I think either of us expected.

  "Once upon a happy family, or so I thought, I was Daddy's special girl." Her eyes narrowed. "Dad got laid off and was home a lot. He took me to the zoo, on picnics, and to movies. I was so proud to be Daddy's girl, until one night when Mom worked a double shift and I woke up to feel hands touching me..."

  Her words were raw and powerful, rushing out like a dry river suddenly washed with a storm. It was like once she started talking, she couldn't stop. Tears flooded her eyes as she told how he said it was because he loved her. He warned her not to tell anyone, but she did. And the police took her father away.

  "He died in prison," she finished.

  Jill's aura pulsed with purple and red like bruises. Her pain jolted me. I thought of my dad and how he'd taught me to roller blade and play a wicked game of Scrabble. Even though he was busy I received regular emails from him, sometimes a funny lawyer joke or a short message just saying "hi." I couldn't imagine being afraid him.

  "So now you know my worst secret," Jill said solemnly.

  I pantomimed zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

  She pretended to catch the key and tuck it into her pocket. Then she lifted her coffee cup to her lips, made a bitter face, and said it was too cold. Standing abruptly, she crossed to the sink and rinsed the cup out.

  I joined her by the sink and washed out my own cup. Neither of us said anything, the noise of running water loud and a lingering scent of coffee.

  There was another scent, too, I realized. Smoke? Like tobacco and mint. And when I turned around, a transparent figure loomed over the couch where Jill and I had just been sitting. But this wasn't like my usual visions - the man's face was horrifying; jagged and cloudy, like fragments of a puzzle that didn't fit together.

  I heard a gasp behind me and whirled to find Jill staring, too.

  "Ohmygod!" she exclaimed. "Dad!"

  Okay, this was beyond spooky. I was used to seeing ghosts, but not used to other people seeing them with me.

  "Daddy?" Jill moaned, shaking and turning white as paper. "But you're ... this can't be happening! I don't even believe in ghosts!"

  Her father regarded her with hollow skull-like eyes. His mouth opened and I thought I heard him say, "Jillian."

  She didn't seem to hear him and turned to me with a wild expression. "Sabine, tell me I'm hallucinating. I'm going crazy, right?"

  "You're not crazy." I gripped her hand. "I see him, too."

  "But he's-he's DEAD!"

  "I know," I said with understanding.

  "So how can he be here?"

  "Maybe he wants to tell you something."

  "Or he's mad and wants revenge!" She gave a frightened cry and backed against the wall.

  "No, he doesn't." I studied the cloudy figure. Not a ghost bound to earth, but a spirit. I sensed sadness, but also peace and love. His mouth opened and I heard him say, I'rn sorry.

  When I turned to Jill, she was cowered against the wall with her hands covering her face. "Don't let him hurt me!" she sobbed.

  "He can't hurt you," I tried to explain.

  "Then why is he here?"

  "Because he's worried about you and wants to give you a message."

  "How d-do you know?" she stammered. "I didn't hear anything."

  "Listen, maybe you will. He's calling out to you."

  She lifted her head, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Daddy?"

  He nodded and spoke her name, but I could tell from Jill's confused expression that she still couldn't hear him.

  "He called you Princess," I to
ld her.

  "That's what he used to call me." She hugged herself, trembling. "What else is he saying?"

  "He's asking for forgiveness."

  She ran her hand over her forehead. "I don't know if I can forgive either of us."

  "He wants you to know he loves you."

  "How can he when everything was my fault?"

  He shook his head.

  "Yes, it was!" Jill rose to her feet. "If I hadn't told Mom you wouldn't have gone to jail and you'd still be alive."

  Again, he shook his head.

  "Is he saying something?" Jill asked, grabbing my arm.

  "Yes," I replied. "Although it's static-like. He says you did nothing wrong. He was the one who was wrong. And he's very sorry."

  "I'm sorry too ..." Her voice cracked.

  "He wants you to be happy."

  "How can I be? I messed things up."

  "He says if you can't forgive him, at least forgive yourself."

  "I'll ... I'll try." Her eyes shone bright with tears.

  "He adds that he won't be able to come back."

  Jill nodded, then whispered, "Bye, Daddy."

  I thought I saw a faint smile cross her father's cloudy face before he faded to gray. Then he was gone. Only the whiff of mint and cigar smoke lingered.

  I'd stayed a while with Jill, listening while she talked about her father, not the bad memories, but the good ones. She was still confused, hating her father yet loving him, too. Healing would take time. When we parted, her aura was brighter. And I was relieved she hadn't asked me the tough questions, like why a visit from a spirit didn't scare me and how come I could hear her father when she couldn't.

  That was minor compared to a startling realization I had while pedaling home.

  Like Manny foretold, Jill had been visited by the person she feared.

  The first prediction had come true.

  I tried not to freak out-and failed.

  I wanted to blame this all on coincidence, but what were the chances that Jill's father would appear the day after the prediction? Also, it was hard to ignore the fact that his spirit showed up when I was with Jill-as if I was a conduit for the other side. Would he have still appeared if Jill had been alone?

  Like the whirling bicycle spokes, my thoughts spun in circles. Since one prediction came true, did that mean the others would too? I refused to believe I was going to die in five-I mean, fourdays. That was just crazy. But what if . . . something did happen?