Clawful Reflections

by Harper Lin

  “What are you talking about, Bea?” She’d never spoken to me like that. We grew up together. Her flaming-red hair and cute figure still turned heads as we walked down the street. But I was never jealous of her. We were different, but our name was still Greenstone, and that made us strong together.

  “Look, it’s about time you know that he’s not interested in you. He’s just using you to be closer to me.” Bea shifted from one leg to the other and folded her arms over her chest.

  “Bea, what are you talking about?”

  “I just thought it was about time you know. You’ve been such a burden on everyone for so long. Everybody is tired of carrying your weight. Maybe if you did something with yourself, you could get a man.”

  “You mean a man like Jake, your husband, who is coming across the street right now?”

  I looked at Jake, who was in baggy flannel pajama bottoms and a matching top. The neighbors were going to start wondering why so many people were coming to my place in their pajamas. Any way I looked at it, it wasn’t good.

  “Bea!” he called.

  I looked at Bea’s face, and she looked disgusted, as if Jake were the worst person who she could possibly run into right now.

  “I just thought you should know,” she whispered to me before turning around and trying to stomp right past Jake.

  “Bea, what are you doing out here? Why are you dressed like that?”

  “Get out of my way,” she said, holding her hands up as if Jake were covered with sludge.

  “Bea, come home.”

  “Don’t touch me, or I swear I’ll scream and get the cops here.” She yanked her hand away from Jake and glared at him.

  Jake looked like he’d just seen his dog get run over by a Mack truck. He stood in my driveway as Bea quickly hustled back to their house, slamming the door with such force it made my front window rattle.

  “Jake? What is that all about?” I stepped outside and went up to him.

  “I don’t know, Cath. She’s not the same person. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she hasn’t been at home for hours. She came in for a minute and then left to come over here. Did she say anything to you?”

  I told him what Bea had said, and I thought he was about to cry.

  “I don’t think there is any truth to that,” I soothed, rubbing his strong arm. “Something is wrong with Bea, Jake. I’ll talk to Aunt Astrid tomorrow. She’ll know what to do.”

  “I’m lost without her, Cath. I’d do anything for her. Anything. She’s been acting like she hates me. Like I’m not good enough for her anymore.”

  To see Jake this way, so broken, it made me think of what Patience had said when she blamed me for Tom getting shot. There was some truth to that statement. A police officer who was distracted was a police officer in danger. This problem with Bea was affecting more than just her and her sense of dress. It was affecting everyone around her.

  “Jake, get some rest,” I said. “Even if you have to sleep on the couch. Is there any way you can call in sick tomorrow? Take a day off and go to a movie or to the gym or somewhere just to give yourself a break.”

  I hoped Jake would do this at least until I had a chance to talk to Aunt Astrid. She had no idea what was happening. If I knew that Jake was not at work, I’d at least be able to breathe a little easier while we got to the bottom of things.

  “I can’t. If I don’t keep busy, I’ll go crazy.” He ran his hand through his hair. Just then the door to Jake’s house opened, and something was tossed onto the porch. I gasped when I saw what it was.

  “She threw me out!” Peanut Butter cried. “I was just sleeping, and she picked me up by the scruff of my neck and threw me out.”

  “Oh no.” I hurried to the sidewalk and scooped him up. I looked at Jake, who clenched his teeth. “Jake, she’s not herself. Please, don’t do anything. Don’t try and talk to her. Just wait until I talk to Aunt Astrid. We all need to get some sleep. I’ll keep Peanut Butter until this all blows over.” I nuzzled the cat as he buried his head in the crook of my arm.

  “I’m going to get dressed and go into work. I can even catch forty winks there in the bullpen if I have to.” He shook his head.

  “Okay. Don’t worry, Jake. Aunt Astrid will know what to do,” I assured him. But the next morning when I walked to the café, I was surprised to see the place still locked up tight. There was no sign of Aunt Astrid.

  15

  Smell of Sulfur

  Panic settled deep in my chest. I ran back to my place and grabbed Treacle and Peanut Butter before I headed across the street to my aunt’s house.

  “We might have to pool our magic together, guys,” I said as I led the march from my house to Aunt Astrid’s. I didn’t want to walk into something like an ambush or attack without a little help.

  “We’ve got your back, Cath,” Treacle assured me as he marched on my right.

  “I’m not afraid,” Peanut Butter added.

  “It’s okay to be afraid, honey,” I said. “It’s how we act when we’re afraid that counts. You look as brave as a cougar to me.”

  I saw Peanut Butter’s shoulders square off and his chin rise a little higher. If only I had someone to give me a pep talk like that. We went up the steps to my aunt’s wide front porch. She had wind chimes with stars and moons hanging at the corner of the roof and a mat at the door that read WELCOME.

  I cupped my hands over my eyes and looked in. There was no movement. Telepathically, I called Marshmallow, my aunt’s Maine Coon cat, and got no answer. Finally, I rang the bell and pounded on the door.

  “Aunt Astrid?” I shouted. While I pressed my ear against the cold wood, I listened for any movement.

  “I’ll go check out back,” Treacle offered.

  “I’ll go with and check the back windows,” Peanut Butter said.

  “Okay.”

  I had a spare key. But the idea of using it frightened me. That meant she wasn’t able to answer the door. I paced then peeked in the window again.

  When Treacle and Peanut Butter returned, they said there was no sign of anyone inside. Finally, I took my key and unlocked the door. We all went inside. I could detect a strange smell of sulfur, and that was never good.

  “Aunt Astrid? Hello?” I dashed upstairs while the cats carefully circled downstairs. Finally, I heard Treacle yelling for me.

  “We found them! Cath, hurry! We found them!”

  I ran back down the stairs, following Treacle’s voice in my head. Finally, I reached the open basement door where the two cats were standing, looking down. I saw my aunt’s legs at the bottom as well as Marshmallow’s. My heart caught in my throat, and tears instantly filled my eyes.

  “Aunt Astrid! Marshmallow!” When I got to the bottom, I quickly inspected my aunt’s head for cracks or bleeding. There was nothing. Not even a lump. I let out a great sigh of relief and scooped her head and shoulders up and into my lap.

  “Aunt Astrid. Please open your eyes,” I pleaded. “Please open your eyes.”

  For a flash, I saw Tom. I did the same thing to him, and he didn’t listen. Was Aunt Astrid in a coma too? What would I do if she was? What would I tell Bea?

  “Aunt Astrid, please.” I shook her and smoothed her hair away from her face. I looked at her hands and saw they were dirty but not scratched or cut like she had to defend herself against something. “I need your help. Bea is in trouble. Please.”

  Finally, there was movement behind her closed eyelids. Slowly, they began to flutter until finally they opened wide and she looked at me.

  “Aunt Astrid? Are you all right?” I tried to smile as tears rolled down my face. This was not how I expected to start my day.

  “Cath?”

  “Yeah.” I squeezed her to me, and I cried with relief. “What in the world happened? You gave us all such a scare. What are you doing in the basement on the floor?”

  Treacle and Peanut Butter were grooming Marshmallow as she began to wake up too. I looked at the cat and asked her if she was all ri
ght.

  “My back paw is hurt where she grabbed me. Other than that, I’m okay.”

  “Grabbed you? Who grabbed you? Aunt Astrid, what happened here?”

  “It was Bea,” my aunt said, pinching her lips together. I swallowed hard.

  “What?” I nearly dropped my aunt’s head against the concrete floor. “I just saw her last night. She said some of the strangest things. Jake came to fetch her, and she practically cussed him out in the middle of the street. Then she tossed out poor Peanut Butter.”

  “But I’m okay. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Peanut butter said bravely, getting affectionate head rubs from the other familiars.

  “After I closed up the café and came home, I started doing some research on what we’d learned about Mrs. Kitt’s death. I’ve narrowed it down to two possible suspects causing all the trouble. I was going to go collect you and Bea, but I saw Bea coming from the Lourdeses’ house.”

  “Who?”

  “The babe couple’s house.” Aunt Astrid rolled her eyes.

  “Oh yeah. I’m always forgetting their real name. Wait. Why would Bea be coming from their house? Maybe she was just checking up on things for them. Believe me, I was in the house. They don’t have a huge television or gaming system or even a full fridge. There is no reason for Bea to go over there. It’s as boring as the post office.”

  “I don’t know. So, I stepped outside and waved her over. I was going to ask her that very question. She was dressed so unlike herself that I knew something was very wrong. She was starting to dress like…like Mrs. Kitt had been, remember?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” I shook my head. “Why didn’t I see it before?”

  “When I asked her about it, she became angry and nasty, saying things I know my daughter would never even think, let alone utter out loud. So, in my ultimate wisdom, I tried to throw a binding spell around her quick, and I was going to go fetch you. But Bea was ready for me. I don’t know how, but she was, and she tossed Marshmallow and me into the basement. I’m lucky I didn’t break every bone in my body.”

  “So, do you think there might be a clue in the Lourdeses’ house?” I asked. “Because I don’t think we are going to get anywhere by asking Bea why she was there. She might have had intentions of throwing me in the basement too, but Jake came by.”

  I shivered at the thought. It was one thing to be attacked by a crazy entity from another dimension. It was a completely different kind of terror to have a family member do it.

  “I think that is a good idea.” She started to push herself up.

  “Well, it’s an idea, anyway. A good one? I don’t know,” I muttered as I helped my aunt to her feet and up the stairs.

  Once we were in the kitchen, my aunt asked me to make her a special cup of tea and make sure to have some myself.

  “We don’t know what we are going to encounter in there. It’s just a little elixir to give us that extra protection,” she said as she handed me an old tea tin with loose leaves in it.

  I didn’t want to say anything, but it smelled like a combination of orange and wasabi. As it turned out, it tasted like that too.

  “This has got some kick,” I muttered as I sipped my cup and handed Aunt Astrid hers. She had quickly changed her clothes and tied her hair up in a loose bun, with wild silver-and-red tendrils falling around her face.

  “It does,” she said, gulping down the hot liquid like a cowboy downing whiskey at a saloon. “Let’s go.”

  Before we even had the front door closed behind us, Aunt Astrid took hold of my hand and pulled me close to her side. I looked at her, and she jerked her chin in the direction of the street. I followed her gaze until I saw what she was staring at. It was Bea.

  16

  Vial of Salt

  Bea was running across the street from the babe couple’s house back to her driveway, where she got into her car and sped down the street in the opposite direction of where we were.

  “What was she doing over there?” I whispered, knowing no one had an answer. When we thought it was safe, we headed across the street to the house two doors down from mine. The front door was locked.

  “How is she getting in?” I asked. “The last time we used a spell to help us pass through walls, she was puking for hours afterward. I don’t think she’s doing it that way, do you?”

  “How did you guys get in when you needed to rescue the cats?” My aunt was shaking her head.

  “We found the key at Mrs. Kitt’s place. I gave it to Bea to unlock the place so Old Murray could take the cats out and then…trusted she’d lock it up and put the key back.”

  “Something made her keep the key in order to get inside again.” My aunt looked in the window, and she looked as if she were studying something through the sheer curtains. “No. No, it can’t be.”

  “What?” I whined.

  “We need to get inside this house immediately.” She looked down at the cats, who were lined up like soldiers in the army, waiting for orders. I peeked in the window but didn’t see anything other than a boring love nest for the babes.

  “No problem,” I said as I looked at Peanut Butter. He was the youngest and the lightest of the cats and needed to start getting in the habit of assisting us witches when he could.

  “Can you find a way in?” I asked him.

  “I can already see a window cracked up on the third floor,” he meowed proudly.

  “Once you are in, do you think you can find a way to get us in?”

  He looked nervously to the side but then meowed that he’d figure something out. My aunt and I watched him shimmy up the side of the house, using the branches of trees, the bricks, and the other window ledges as his ladder. Once up on the third floor, he disappeared inside the house through the window that was only cracked about three inches.

  Within seconds, he peeked out at us, with the sheer curtains making a hood over his little head.

  “Good job!” I said to him. “Do you see any window latch that you can slide open or a door handle you can turn? Anything?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  It was almost comical how we could hear the cat darting around from room to room, looking for a weak link in the chain.

  Finally, I heard him shout he did it.

  He came running back to the front window to tell us he’d opened the door to the mudroom that led to the garage.

  “That’s great, honey, but not exactly what we were hoping for.” I slouched as I repeated his feat to my aunt.

  “Oh, it isn’t? Just wait,” he purred.

  Within seconds, the garage door started to go up. Peanut Butter strutted his stuff back and forth by the door that led into the house.

  “I was wrong, kitty. Great job!” I said as my aunt and I quickly scurried inside. “Where did you learn that trick?”

  “I do it at our house all the time.” Peanut Butter accepted his scratches behind the ear with pride.

  “That had to be something Jake taught you to do.” I smiled. Jake might have been a dog man deep down, but if he was going to have a cat, that cat was going to learn some amazing tricks. Opening the garage door was pretty cool. Treacle and Marshmallow agreed as we pressed the button, sending the door back down. My initial excitement over getting inside without passing through walls or breaking a window quickly passed as I felt the oppressive air of the place.

  “Now, before we go into the living room,” Aunt Astrid said, “I need you to promise me something.”

  I looked at my aunt, who took my hands in hers.

  “Anything,” I said.

  “Do not look in the mirrors.”

  “Why would I?” I asked as if she told me not to put my hand in a hill of fire ants. “I avoid mirrors at all costs. The only reason I look at the one in my house is to make sure I don’t have my T-shirt on inside out.”

  My aunt smiled the most kind, genuine smile at me. I didn’t know why, but it was contagious, and I smiled back at her.

  “We need to move those mirrors. Tu
rn them around first and then move them,” Aunt Astrid said. “Follow my instructions. We’ll get this done quickly.”

  We walked into the living room. Even though it was a bright sunny day outside, the room was dark. There was a faint hint of sulfur in the air.

  From one pocket, my aunt pulled a vial of salt. She made three tiny piles on the floor in front of each of the mirrors, five in this one room.

  “There are more upstairs,” I muttered. “These people love to look at themselves.”

  “We’ll check those in a minute. These are our primary concern now,” Aunt Astrid said. She clapped her hands and rubbed them together.

  “Cogitatio. You see nothing. Cogitatio. You see nothing.” Over and over she muttered those words as she connected the dots of salt with her fingers. With another loud clap, she rubbed her hands together.

  I promised I wouldn’t look at the mirrors. But as I stood in front of the big mirror Bea had been looking at, the one with the fancy frame around it, I noticed out of the corner of my eye the reflection inside bending and warping like the glass were being heated from the inside.

  “Cath. Get ready to turn that mirror,” Aunt Astrid ordered.

  I stood next to it, awaiting her orders. My hands were cool against the frame. Aside from the mirror rolling and folding on itself, I wasn’t all that scared at what we were doing. Treacle, Marshmallow, and Peanut Butter took their places, each in front of the other mirrors like guard dogs.

  “Cogitatio speculum! Turn it! Now!”

  17

  Black Magic

  I did as I was told and started to turn the mirror around when I felt something grab at my leg.

  When I looked down, a bluish-gray gnarled arm had reached out, and the bony fingers latched onto my pants. Now I started to sweat, and my hands got slippery as I pulled the mirror.

  “What is it?” I screamed.

  “Don’t look in the mirror, Cath! Just turn it around!” Aunt Astrid sounded like she was shouting while trying to swat away a swarm of wasps. I turned to look at her, and she, too, had arms reaching out, clawing and grabbing at her.