Spells & Sleeping Bags

by Sarah Mlynowski

  Funny how Liana has so many clothes and yet her cubby is so sparse.

  Funny how Alison doesn't smoke yet was caught smoking—by Rose, who just happened to appear in our neck of the woods.

  Funny how Raf can't remember that he was kissing Liana. (Well, not so funny.)

  My heart hammers harder and harder until I'm afraid I might explode. “I have to go,” I say, yanking on my shirt and shorts and stuffing my feet into my flip-flops.

  “Go where?”

  “To the bunk. To the bathroom. I, um, don't feel so well. Can you tell Deb I'm leaving?” Without waiting for an answer, I take off. I run all the way up the hill to the bunk and head straight for Liana's bed.

  I need to find proof. I rifle through the stuff on her shelf. A brush. A hand mirror. Lipstick. Mascara. And then I spot her jewelry box. I know it's a long shot, but anything is better than thinking my sister is a traitor. I grab Liana's baby powder, sprinkle it on the box, and recite:

  “From a caterpillar, a butterfly you became,

  Now let this powder absorb your change!”

  As soon as the powder hits the box, the box begins to morph, the month-old-milk smell becoming more and more pungent.

  The jewelry box becomes a copy of A2.

  Liana's a witch.

  15

  THE TRUTH IS OUT

  THERE (IN THE MIDDLE

  OF THE LAKE)

  I open her spell book to the first page and read Property of Liana Graff.

  How come everyone has a spell book but me? No fair.

  I pace the length of the bunk. Liana's a witch. Liana's a witch! How could it have taken me so long to realize this? You'd think a witch would be able to spot another witch in a crowd. Where was my witch radar?

  Miri is going to be so excited that we have someone else to talk witchcraft to.

  Unless Miri already knows.

  I continue pacing, looping through fifteen, the cubby room, and the bathroom, then back into the cubby room and then back through fourteen, trying to make sense of this situation. Miri and Liana have been best buddies lately, so it's possible Miri knows. But how would it have come up? Did Liana spot Miri doing a spell, get my sister to spill her secret, and then share her own? Or was it the other way around? Or maybe Miri just blurted it out, as I originally suspected.

  If Miri knew, why didn't she tell me?

  I mean, this is huge. We haven't met any other witches besides those in our immediate family. We haven't even heard of any other witches. I mean, we knew they existed, but we've never been given specifics on any other than our departed grandmother and our aunt.

  I heave the spell book into my knapsack (it peeks out on top but I don't care), throw it onto my back, and run to the beach. My plan is to take out a canoe, find them in the middle of the lake, and confront them.

  For someone who hates confrontations, I'm sure having my share of them.

  I change my plan when I spot them tying their boat to the dock. I grab a life jacket, hurry down the dock, and jump into the boat before they can get out. “Pedal,” I order.

  “What are you doing?” Liana demands.

  “Joining you. We're going to have a little talk.”

  “About what?” Miri asks.

  I pull Liana's spell book from my knapsack and lift it in the air. “This.”

  Miri gasps. I'm not sure if she's gasping because she didn't know that Liana was a witch or because she thinks my bringing an A2 to the beach violates some sort of witchy code of ethics.

  “Careful!” Liana says, and starts pedaling.

  Since the paddleboat has only two seats, I'm forced to lie across the container area in the back. When we reach the middle of the lake, they stop pedaling and turn to face me. “So,” says Liana, staring into my eyes.

  “You're a witch,” I say matter-of-factly.

  She doesn't break our gaze. “Yes.”

  I blink a few times and turn to my sister. “Did you know?”

  Miri's face breaks into a wide smile. “Isn't it amazing?”

  Huh. So she did know. A pang of something unpleasant (neglect? resentment? jealousy?) shoots through me like an arrow. “Why didn't you guys tell me?”

  “We were going to,” Miri says. “I swear.”

  “When? Next summer?” I kick the side of the boat in annoyance.

  “There's more,” Miri says, her eyes gleaming. She squeezes Liana's arm. “Should I tell her, or do you want to?”

  More? What more could there be? I'm not sure how much more my brain can take. “Tell me what?”

  Liana cocks her head to the side. “You go ahead.”

  Miri takes a deep breath and then shrieks, “She's our cousin!”

  And that's when my head explodes. Okay, not really, but it feels like it. “What?”

  “Liana”—Miri pauses for effect—“is Aunt Sasha's daughter.”

  I look from Miri to Liana and back to Miri. Liana is the daughter of my mother's only sister? The aunt I don't remember? Mom says I saw her only once, when I was a year old. “What are you talking about?”

  “Aunt Sasha has a daughter. Liana. Who you must have met when you were a baby.”

  “But why wouldn't Mom tell us we had a cousin?”

  “Who knows? After the fight, she didn't want us to have anything to do with that side of the family.”

  A million different emotions are tugging and pushing inside me. On one hand, yay! A cousin! I've always wanted a cousin my own age. How much fun is that? It's like having a twin but you don't have to share a room or identical DNA. On the other hand, of all the people who could be my cousin, does it have to be Liana, my new nemesis?

  Not that I'm totally convinced she really is my cousin.

  “Don't you think she looks like us?” Miri asks.

  Her hair is darker and straighter than ours. More witchy. But her eyes and chin are kind of the same shape, I guess.

  And she does have our genetic predisposition.

  I suppose it's possible. . . .

  “I look a lot like my mother,” Liana says. “That's why I couldn't let your mother see me on visiting day. She hasn't seen me since the fight, but why take a chance?”

  “How do you know about their fight?” I ask her. Their big secret fight.

  Miri laughs. “Liana was the one who brought it up. And that's how I knew she really was our cousin!” She gives Liana an adoring look. “Not that I thought you weren't.”

  “But how did you know we were your cousins?” I ask.

  “My mom didn't keep your existence a secret. I knew that I had two cousins, Rachel and Miri Weinstein, but she wouldn't let me contact you.”

  It's so unfair that her mom told her about us while my mom kept her a secret. “Do you know what the fight was about?” Finally, the skeleton gets to come out of the closet!

  Liana shrugs. “My mom never told me.”

  Oh well. It's back to the closet for Ol' Bones.

  “Isn't this incredible?” Miri continues excitedly. “After the fight, our mothers never spoke to each other again, and then we randomly meet at camp thirteen and a half years later! It's like a movie.”

  Yeah, a movie I've seen twice, The Parent Trap and then its remake. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. “It's kind of unbelievable,” I say finally. How did we possibly end up at the same camp? “How did you hear about Wood Lake?”

  Liana smooths her hair back and smiles at my sister. “I wanted to go away for the summer and I read about it on the Internet. As soon as I saw it, I just knew. I felt that this was the place I needed to be.”

  “It's destiny,” my sister says. “It has to be.”

  Sounds suspicious to me. Wait a sec. “Mir, how long have you known about this?”

  She flushes and stares at her bitten fingers. “A few weeks.”

  “What? Since before visiting day? Mom was here, and you didn't tell her that her niece was here too?” I stare at Miri in astonishment.

  “I . . . we were afraid Mom w
ould pull me out of camp if she knew. You know how she feels about Aunt Sasha. She doesn't want anything to do with her. I . . . we were afraid that the banishment would extend to Liana, too.”

  “But I thought you wanted to leave camp,” I say. “This would have been your ticket out.”

  “That was before.” She smiles at our cousin.

  That pang of neglect/resentment/jealousy strikes me again. “You could have at least told me.”

  “I wanted to, but Liana said not to. She said you didn't like her.”

  True, I didn't and still don't. She kissed my boyfriend! Why would my cousin try to steal my boyfriend, anyway? But more important, why would my sister keep a secret from me?

  Liana takes her arm.

  Ah. Of course. Miri finally had someone all to herself, and she didn't want to share her.

  “You weren't very nice to her,” Miri persists. “Like when you told your friends not to trust her after she moved into your bunk.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “News travels fast in this place,” Liana says.

  “See?” Miri continues. “You started rumors about her for no reason. Liana's never been anything but nice to you.”

  Is she kidding me? “Liana, you stole my boyfriend!”

  She widens her eyes innocently. “Honestly, Rachel, I don't know what you're talking about. I swear, I never kissed Raf.”

  “I saw you!”

  “You couldn't have. You must have imagined it. New witches sometimes have hallucinations when their powers are just kicking in.”

  Miri nods. “It happens to a lot of witches, so don't get upset.”

  “Miri told me all about your problem,” Liana says. “So I forgive you for making up rumors about me.”

  First of all, I can't believe that Miri told her about my problem. I take a moment to give Miri a good glare. Second, I did not hallucinate the kiss. Did I? “I don't know what to think.”

  “I'm sorry, Rachel. Jealousy can often trigger the hallucinations. So I forgive you. Sometimes I think my looks are a curse. Sometimes I wish I looked more like you, Rachel.”

  Gee, thanks. Is it possible? Did I imagine the whole thing? Raf has been denying it. . . . And my magic has been a bit fickle.

  My newfound cousin is conceited, obnoxious, and manipulative, but—sigh—she's still my cousin.

  “You have to believe her,” Miri says. “Give her the benefit of the doubt! She's our cousin!”

  I look at Liana. “All right.” I'll give her a chance. I do like her version of events—the version in which Raf doesn't kiss her. Yay! Now I wish I hadn't gotten so angry at him. . . .

  “You guys are going to love each other!” my sister gushes. “You just need to spend some quality time together. I bet you played together as babies.”

  Rose's whistle echoes over the lake. “All boats in!” she screams.

  “Guess this is the end of our little chat,” Liana says. “Miri, pedal backward and I'll turn us around.”

  Miri complies happily.

  There's that pang again.

  Liana might be her cousin, but I'm her sister. Who does this girl think she is, telling my sister what to do?

  That's my job.

  “Oh, say can you see . . .”

  Instead of singing, I study all the campers and counselors at flagpole. If Liana is a witch, are other people at camp witches too?

  Deb? Tilly? Will?

  Raf?

  I catch Raf looking at me and quickly look away. I'm so embarrassed about everything I said to him. I haven't quite figured out how to apologize for my crazy accusations.

  I watch as Rose pulls a Koala boy out of line and yells at him to be quiet. Ha. If anyone else here is a witch, it's probably her.

  Or maybe she didn't actually yell at the kid. Maybe I just imagined it. Maybe the kid yelled at her.

  I keep looking around the circle. Prissy is singing at the top of her lungs in pig Latin. “O'erway ethay andlay ofway ethay eefray andway ethay omehay . . .” Speaking in pig Latin is Prissy's new favorite activity. “Ymay amenay isway Issypray” is how she now introduces herself. After she finishes the song, she sticks her finger into her nose, then wipes it on Tilly's sleeve.

  For Tilly's sake, I hope I'm hallucinating.

  While Carly stacks (her left arm wobbled during freeze), Deb stands at the head of our table, clapping. “Guess what, girls!” she squeals.

  “What?” we say in unison.

  “Break out your Camp Wood Lake T-shirts! Tomorrow morning we leave for an overnight canoe trip!”

  Two days of being on a boat? I've tried canoeing only twice at camp, and I wasn't very good. And that's a lot of quality time with Liana. Intense quality time. I do want to get to know her better, but . . . well, she hasn't exactly made an effort to get to know me. I was already here when she came, and she chose a spot at the other end of the table.

  I wasn't sure whether we were spilling the cousin-beans to the rest of the bunk, but since she didn't mention it, I decided I shouldn't either—which is fine with me. I mean, I have only two friends left in the bunk. Two friends who aren't too crazy about Liana. I wouldn't want to alienate them with my nepotism.

  I wonder if anyone has an extra T-shirt to lend me, so that I won't have to wear my Oodle Wamp Ack.

  “Just the five of us?” Morgan asks. “Or is fifteen coming too?”

  “Bunk fifteen is coming too,” Deb says. “And me. And a leader.”

  Poodles' ears perk up.

  “Who's the leader?” I ask for Poodles' sake. “Is it Harris?”

  “No, Harris only goes with the guys' bunks. Rose is coming with us.”

  We all boo.

  “Come on, girls,” Deb says. “She's not that bad.”

  “Yes, she is,” Poodles says. She's obviously disappointed for other reasons.

  “Where are we going?” Carly asks.

  Deb gives us a thumbs-up. “Harbor Point.”

  “That's supposed to be nice,” Carly says. “My sister went there two years ago and loved it.”

  I don't totally understand what a canoe trip is. Do we sleep in the canoes?

  “Where exactly do we sleep?” Liana asks.

  Omigod, she was totally reading my mind! How cousinly!

  “In tents,” Deb says.

  I'm not crazy about tents. I imagine there are lots of spiders in tents. And what if it rains? Are tents waterproof? I don't want to get all wet. “Who puts up the tents?” I wonder aloud.

  “We do,” Deb says.

  We do? “And where do we go to the bathroom?”

  Poodles laughs.

  “In the WC,” Morgan says. “Wooden can. Or you pee near a tree. Or under a branch toilet if you need to get formal.”

  I am from Manhattan. I do not pee in the woods.

  “I hate canoe trips,” Carly whines. “Do we have to go?”

  “Yes!” says Deb.

  “It could be fun,” says my cousin the suck-up.

  “Now, that's the spirit,” Deb says. “We pack tonight instead of going to evening activity, and we leave from the dock at nine. Tomorrow we canoe till about one and then we hang out at Harbor Point. We leave the next morning.”

  I wonder how many rolls of toilet paper we should take. I suppose I can always megel some more all the way from camp. I've got that particular megel down pat. Too bad it's the only thing about my life that seems to be working.

  “So you really think Liana is a good witch?” I wouldn't want to have to drop a house on her or anything. It's free play, and Miri and I are leaving the mess hall and walking to the Upper Field bleachers.

  “Definitely. She's taught me so many fun spells! Like automatic bed-making and sweeping. And some advanced ones too, like communicating with animals. I'm going to test them out on Tigger and Goldie when we get home.”

  I can understand trying to communicate with our cat—after all, cats are supposed to be mediums for witches—but our goldfish? This I have to see.


  “Did you know she knows tons of other witches? They all hang out together in Switzerland. They go to boarding school and everything.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “What, she goes to Hogwarts?”

  “No, Rachel, don't be dumb. It's more of an underground thing. We are so lucky to have such an in-the-know witch for a cousin,” Miri says, all googly-eyed.

  If you want to know the truth, it's nauseating. “I think she's a little strange,” I say.

  “I think she's amazing.”

  Gag me, please. “Miri, isn't it a bit weird that she wants to spend so much time with you?”

  Miri stops in her tracks. “No, Rachel, it isn't. Some people like spending time with me. Not everyone sees me as a nuisance.”

  Hello, drama queen. “I know that, but Liana is two years older than you. I wonder why she went out of her way to be friends with you and not me, that's all.”

  “Is it so impossible for you to believe that someone would prefer me to you?”

  “That's not what I meant.”

  “It is too. Yes, Liana would rather spend time with me than with you. And you know what? I would rather spend time with Liana than with you. She actually respects me and enjoys hanging out with me. She cares about important stuff, things more important than popularity, straight hair, and boys who don't even like her!”

  I gasp. “I can't believe you just said that.”

  “Well, I did. It's true. I can't take how completely self-involved you are.”

  “I am not! You'd better apologize,” I say to her.

  “Why? Are you going to turn me into a roll of toilet paper if I don't?”

  I'm so angry that I take off at full speed and leave her standing on the road. “I'm not speaking to you until you apologize,” I call over my shoulder.

  “I don't care. I have someone better to talk to!”

  Sucker. With Liana and me away on our canoe trip, the only person who will speak to her is Prissy.

  I hope Miri knows pig Latin.

  16

  TENTS AND OTHER

  DISASTERS

  “Knuckles facing out, Rachel, knuckles facing out,” Carly says.

  Unfortunately, I'm still not a very good canoeist. Which is surprising, considering it's so boringly simple. In-out, in-out, repeat process a million times.