“Who’s the Phoenix?” I asked.
“She’s your mother.”
I sat down. My mother had sent me a book. My mother cared about me and knew where I was. For that moment, nothing else mattered. The dork in my living room, the man wrapped in layers of magic in my bed, the demon next door, all kind of became the background music to something I had dreamt of my entire life. My mother cared about me. Why would she send me a book if she didn’t care? I was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to see her.
“Do you know where she is?”
“Your mother?”
“My mother,” I said. “Where is she?”
“You have more important things to worry about than finding your mother. The king of Hell has set up a nest in the little girl next door. I think you can save the family reunion for later.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Can you help the little girl?”
“I’ll try, but I don’t know that much about Abaddon and I’m not sure I have the power to drive him out on my own. You’ll have to learn and we’ll have to work together.”
“Okay,” I said.
“And when we’re done, you have to learn how to control yourself and cast spells you know how to control.”
“Okay,” I said again.
“I’m tired,” he said. “I’ll need a room to stay in while I’m here.”
“Okay,” I said.
Fred the dork picked up his bags and I showed him to his room. I gave him the blue room that was as far away from my room as possible I didn’t want him anywhere near me. He was altogether too strange to have sleeping in a room next to mine. I had no idea how I was going to explain the presence of a strange man in my house to Aaron in any way that even remotely made sense. I was going to have to do some major lying.
* * *
Of course, I over slept the next day. I awoke to the sun shining in on me and Aaron glaring down at me with enough rage to singe my eyebrows. I sat up and braced myself for a shit storm. When I’d been married to Johnny Boy and he had looked at me like this, I had gone somewhere else in my head. I thought about the things I needed to do that day or the things I wished I could do. That was a trick I picked up from years of living with my father. When that man had ramped up into a good yell, he would have scared the king of Hell away. It’s too bad he wasn’t still alive to help me perform the exorcism. I was used to the yelling. I was prepared for it. I wasn’t prepared for Aaron.
“Phae,” he said almost softly. “This isn’t going to work out if you can’t be honest with me.”
I didn’t answer. I felt really terrible.
“There’s a strange man outside the room who says you need to get up and make him breakfast,” Aaron said. “The book last night was weird, but I can handle a little weird. This is something else entirely.”
“I know,” I said. “I want to be honest with you. The truth is insane and I didn’t know how to tell you the truth without you thinking I’m crazy.”
“You’re just going to have to risk it. I love you, Phae, but I feel like I don’t even really know you.”
“Maybe you don’t,” I whispered. I sat up and put my hand on his. He looked almost boyish. His features were soft and wounded. He looked like he was going to cry. I couldn’t bear the thought of making him cry.
“I have to go to work now,” he said. “I’m working a twelve hour shift. I have two days like this and I think I’ll go home to sleep tonight because I really can’t function at work with this kind of stress at home. When I am off again on Wednesday, I expect the truth.”
“I promise,” I said softly. “No more lies.”
Aaron leaned over and kissed me on the lips. It was such a sweet kiss, I almost turned into a puddle at his feet. He touched my cheek and kissed my forehead and I just looked up at him and smiled. He left me like that, sitting in the bed in my nightgown gazing out at the space where he had been. I really wished he had just yelled. This nice shit was much harder than the yelling. The nice shit made me feel guilty. It made me feel like the bad guy and I wasn’t used to that.
I sat up and pulled on my bathrobe. I stepped out into the hall and went downstairs. Fred was sitting at the kitchen table reading an enormous book that was written in Latin, or what I thought was Latin. He looked up at me with a frown.
“I like pancakes,” he said.
“I’m a shitty cook,” I answered. “And I don’t keep much in the house.”
“Your cupboards are full,” Fred answered. “A well-balanced diet is important.”
“Okay,” I said. I turned and opened the cupboard. It was filled with food. There was fruit and health food. I shriveled my nose.
“What are you some kind of hippie?” I asked.
“No, I just eat well and you eat like a nine-year-old girl with an alcohol problem,” he said.
Fred stood up and started to prepare breakfast. I helped him and handed him things when he needed them. He put bananas in the pancakes and when he was done, I had the best meal I’d had since I had moved from Chicago. There was bacon and eggs and the pancakes. He even helped me clean up the kitchen. I tried to avoid conversation. It seemed dangerous. Fred and I worked in a silent synchronicity.
Fred had shed his brown corduroy jacket and exchanged it for a green one and a T-shirt that said, ‘Candy is dandy but aspartame is a phenylketonuric.’ He couldn’t have looked more like a dork if he had put a special effort into it.
When the kitchen was clean, I called Ellie and asked her to clear my schedule for the day. I hopped in the shower and then threw on some jeans and a T-shirt. I thought I should be comfortable for demon fighting. I imagined it wouldn’t be easy work. I wanted to be as comfortable as possible.
On the way there, Fred broke the silence. “Which spell did you start but not finish?” he asked.
“I always finish,” I answered.
“No,” Fred said. “It is important for me to know which spell brought the demon. You must have left the candles burning or the incense burning and walked away or fallen asleep on one of the spells you cast.”
“Oh,” I said. “Shit. I didn’t think that would be such a big deal. It was one of my early spells. It was a candle garden. It was a garden of healing.”
“When you do things like that,” he said. “It’s like leaving an open door between this world and the other. Anything can wander through.”
“I didn’t realize,” I said trying to sound as contrite as possible.
“Did you even read the book or did you just leaf through and find the spells you needed?”
“I skimmed it,” I said.
Fred shook his head as we pulled up in front of the Dollar house. If it is possible, the house seemed worse than before. The paint was almost completely gone, leaving the house gray and battered looking. The lawn was thick with thorns and weeds. A dark cloud hung over the house. Fred stepped out of the vehicle and looked around. He had his book under his arm and he had told me to bring mine.
Sam looked worse than she did before. She looked tired and gaunt, as though she’d lost several pounds overnight. I could count the bones in her chest. Her eyes were giant orbs of blue in her sunken skull. Even the baby seemed limp in her arms. The house was worse inside, too. The carpet was even dingier and the cobwebs were thicker. Sam and her house seemed to be fading away.
Fred introduced himself to Sam very politely and explained that he was here to help me. He told her he did this sort of thing all the time and there was nothing at all to worry about.
“I need you to trust me,” he said. “Because I’m going to ask you to do something unusual.”
Sam nodded. Fred handed her the keys to my house.
“You’ve spent too much time here and your energy is being drained away. I need you to go to Phae’s house with your baby and rest for a while. We will watch your daughter. What is her name?”
“Louisa,” Sam whispered.
“Can you do that for me?”
Sam nodded. “Be kind to my baby,”
she whispered. Fred smiled a surprisingly charming smile that made him almost handsome and he helped Sam gather the things she needed to leave. I watched as he walked her to the car. When Fred came back, I wanted to punch him, but I didn’t. I really didn’t want Samantha Dollar sleeping in my house, but it was time for me to let go and do what I had to do to help the girl upstairs. I let Fred lead me upstairs to Louisa’s room.
Fred walked in without knocking. He entered and sat down and opened his book.
“You brought a friend,” the demon said when he saw Fred.
“I’m very social,” I answered.
“Don’t you need a real priest for an exorcism?” the demon asked.
Fred ignored the demon.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “You tell me.”
“This one abandoned the Church,” the demon said.
“You used to be a priest?” I asked Fred. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I didn’t know the man from Adam. He could have been a former sumo wrestling nun for all I knew. I guess I’d been brought up to believe that warlocks were evil and couldn’t be priests.
“The Church likes people with the gift,” Fred said. “It seeks us out and uses us to help with exorcisms and blessings and whatever else they need. I worked for the Church for a very long time.”
“I know you, priest.” The demon laughed. “I know your smell.”
Fred ignored the demon.
“How do you know him?” I asked.
The demon laughed. “He called my brother to save his sister, but my brother is a liar. He only made the priest’s sister sicker. She died in his arms. You should have called me, priest. I would have saved her for you.”
“I was young,” Fred said. “I didn’t understand my power then. I understand it now.”
Fred stood up and began writing strange symbols in a circle, around the demon, in red paint. I watched with interest. The demon didn’t react. It merely watched.
“I need you to give me your hand,” Fred said. “I’m going to draw your strength from you.”
I gave Fred my hand and he began to chant in Latin. I really had to learn Latin. The demon laughed, but Fred continued chanting. His voice droned on and I began to feel weak. My feet fell from under me and I fell to the ground, but Fred still clutched my hand. The demon laughed again and the symbols around grew bright red and caught fire. The girl fell to the ground and wailed. She clutched her stomach as tears poured down her face, and then she rolled over onto her back and opened her mouth wider than was humanly possible. The demon emerged from the girl’s mouth like a baby being torn from its mother’s womb. The girl fainted from exhaustion. The demon crawled up to me on the floor. Ick. It was really very ugly. It looked like a giant toad man that someone had shit on. The giant toad demon was covered in something that resembled vomit and it smelled so bad, I had to breathe through my mouth to stop myself from gagging. I pushed myself away from the grimacing demon, went to the girl, and checked her pulse to see if she was breathing. She was okay. I almost sobbed with relief. I looked at her piquant little face and gently caressed her cheek.
“I didn’t like the girl in any case,” the demon croaked. “I’d prefer the witch. Give me the witch, priest, and I’ll go back to my own world.”
“No,” Fred said.
“If you do not give me the witch, I will make this entire town rot from the inside out until there is nothing left here but death and ash.”
“You can’t have her,” Fred said.
The toad demon crept towards me leaving a trail of slime and shit behind him. He licked me and I drew back.
“Delicious,” the toad demon croaked. “Sweet, like candy. You could give yourself to me, witch. Give yourself to me and I’ll spare your shitty, rat-infested town.”
Fred kicked me before I could open my mouth to consent. His kick landed in just the right place and the breath left my body.
“You can’t have her,” Fred said.
The demon laughed as Fred began to chant again. I felt myself fade even more as the chanting continued. Suddenly, the demon croaked and laughed and leapt upward, vanishing in a cloud of smoke and sulfur. Fred released my hand and I fell to the floor. I could see Fred pick up the little girl and lay her on the bed. He anointed her with oil and said something over her. The darkness around the house faded to light and the room brightened. The carpet grew lighter and the dust vanished.
Fred picked me up and carried me down to the car.
“What did you do to me?” I whispered.
“I needed your strength to drive the demon out,” Fred said. “He was too strong for me.”
“I feel broken,” I whispered.
“Do you have the strength to drive home and tell the mother to come back?”
“I think so,” I said.
“Good,” he said. “Send the mother home. The demon won’t be back here.”
I nodded and looked up at the house. It was white again. The weeds were still there, but the shadows were gone. I could hardly move, but I managed to get the car back to my house. I stumbled in to find Sam sleeping with the baby on the couch in the den. They looked so exhausted, I hated to wake them. I sat down beside them and took a deep breath. I felt like I had almost died. I didn’t mean to but I drifted off a little. I woke up and looked over at Sam.
I had probably slept for more than an hour. I sat up and shook Sam. She opened her lovely gray eyes and looked at me.
“It’s over,” I said.
“Really?” she asked.
I nodded.
Sam began to weep. She took my hand and wept. I held her. The baby in her arms woke and sat up. It looked at me. I smiled through my fatigue. Sam sat up and pulled the baby to her and kissed it.
“Thank God,” she said.
“Go home,” I said. “Your little girl will want to see you. Lord knows, she doesn’t want to be stuck over there with Fred.”
Sam laughed. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank God for you.”
I wanted to tell her it had all been my fault in the first place. I wanted to beg her forgiveness, but I lacked the courage. There weren’t enough words to ask forgiveness for this.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” I said.
Sam left and I collapsed on the sofa. I must have slept all day, because it was dark when I woke up. I felt like I had been up all night drinking vodka. My head throbbed and I felt vaguely nauseous. I sat up. There was a light coming in from the kitchen and I could hear pots and pans banging. I stood up and stumbled into the light. Fred was in the kitchen cooking something. It smelled good, like sage.
I stumbled over to the cupboard and grabbed some ibuprofen and pulled a beer out of the fridge. Fred took the beer out of my hand and replaced it with a glass of water. I didn’t have the energy to fight with him, so I took the pills with the water. I sat down at the island and watched Fred cook. He moved quickly and deftly in the kitchen and the smell became so intoxicating, I wanted nothing more than to eat. The buzzer went off and he pulled something out of the oven. That was what smelled good.
“What is it?” I asked
“Boeuf Bourguignon,” he answered.
“It smells amazing.”
“It is. Go set the table and get the drinks on.”
I did as I was told and laid out the best plates and silverware I had in the dining room. It was actually quite pathetic. My cheap, chipped plates were laid out on a great beast of a mahogany table that had been left with the house. It had lion’s claw feet and beautiful, intricate chairs. Above it, a red crystal Victorian chandelier cast a romantic light over the elegant room, filled with crown molding and hard wood. My cheap plates looked like someone had spit them up in the middle of House Beautiful magazine. The cups were pink and plastic. They looked even worse, if that was possible.
Fred stepped out of the kitchen with the steaming pot and laid a trivet down on the table. He returned to the kitchen for the sides and then went back to the kitchen one last time emerging with two wine glass
es filled to the top with red wine.
Fred looked at the table and scowled. “You don’t entertain much, do you?” he asked.
“I never entertain,” I answered.
“What a waste,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Such a beautiful house and no one but you ever sees it. That is a waste.”
“It’s not wasted on me. I love this house. I knew the moment I saw it that I had to have it. I restored it from a crumbling ruin.”
“Of course you had to have it,” he said. “Any spellcaster would give his left eye for this house.”
I sat down and put my napkin in my lap. He sat down and served us both.
“Thank you,” I said.
“This is for me,” he said. “I can’t eat the crap you have in this house and all the restaurants in this town look like they fell off the back end of a truck.”
“Why would any spellcaster want this house?” I asked as I stuffed the intoxicating mixture into my mouth. I knew the answer. Diane had told me before, but I wanted to hear it from another spellcaster. I wanted to hear it from my own kind.
“It was built on a sacred place, a place of power. Like Stonehenge. Whoever built this house must have been a witch. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that this house’s history was filled with drama and tragedy and rich with ghosts. Spellcasters are drawn to places like this. We’re drawn to old cemeteries and churches, to the old sacred places that are like wellsprings. They feed us. They make us stronger.”
“People always say this place is haunted,” I said. “But I’ve never seen any ghosts.”
“Of course you haven’t. You never will. Ghosts fear us. They fear the spirits that follow us. They avoid us. If you were a necromancer, you would draw ghosts, but you aren’t. You are something else entirely.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but I was too busy eating. Fred ate slowly. He savored every bite. He ate like someone out of an old movie. I, on the other hand, shoveled the food in my mouth as quickly as I could. I was starving. I don’t think I had been this hungry since I was married to Johnny Boy. The carrot and salad diet he had put me on had left me so hungry, I would have considered eating my own young, if I’d had any.
The Accidental Witch Page 13