Broken Spirits

by S. A. Hunter

  Gran was in the living room watching the news with the volume turned low. “So did you have a nice nap?” Gran asked.

  Mary gave her a small scowl. “No, I didn’t nod off any. I did the best I could. I got my brain to empty for a while, but thoughts kept bubbling up.”

  Gran gave her a disbelieving look.

  “I really did try,” Mary protested. “I sat still and stared at the quartz. I know I wasn’t in there long, but I gave it a good shot.”

  “Mary, you’ve been in there for three hours.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “I thought I was in there for an hour maybe.”

  Gran stared at her. “You really didn’t fall asleep?”

  She shook her head. “No, I swear I didn’t.”

  Mary sat down in the recliner, feeling uncomfortable. The idea that three hours had gone by instead of one was pretty upsetting. She didn’t like the idea that she’d zoned out that long. “This isn’t good, is it?” she asked.

  Gran’s eyebrows rose and shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Mary didn’t say any more and stared at the TV. Why couldn’t anything be normal for her? She couldn’t even meditate normally. Losing three hours. That just wasn’t right.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Reading, Writing, and Interrogation

  Mary had emailed Rachel to ask her to get her homework. The girls hadn’t spoken since the blow-up at the movie theater. Mary wasn’t sure how mad Rachel still was with her, but she was ready to grovel like Kyle had suggested. Rachel’s reply said she’d stop by after school with the stuff. Mary waited in the living room nervously. She couldn’t determine anything from the email. Rachel hadn’t said no, so that was good. She was biting her nails when the doorbell rang. That wasn’t Rachel. Rachel would’ve just knocked and come on in.

  Mary got up and answered it. Kyle was there with a handful of textbooks. He held them out with an apologetic smile. “Rachel asked me to drop these off.”

  Mary wasn’t sure what to feel first: disappointment that Rachel was still mad at her or nervousness that Kyle was at her front door. She was tongue-tied over inviting him inside. Her house wasn’t as nice as his, and it was a bit of a mess at the moment. With Gran’s ankle still healing, the housekeeping had slid downhill. Sure, Mary could’ve pushed the vacuum around and dusted a bit to help out, but she barely managed to keep her own room tidy without prompting. Gran hadn’t bugged her to do anything, so she hadn’t thought about it. Thinking about it now with Kyle right outside made her feel like an idiot. This was exactly why one was supposed to keep a clean house, in case a guy you were slowly beginning to like more and more popped by to drop off homework. You didn’t want the mutant dust bunnies to scare him away.

  She pushed open the screen door, intending to just take the stack of books from him, but Kyle displayed a deft bit of footwork and slipped inside, making it look completely natural. “I like your house,” he said, looking all around. Mary still had a hold of the front door. She thought about leaving it open to encourage Kyle not to stay. He sat down on the sofa and put her textbooks on the coffee table.

  “Thanks,” she said. She released the screen door and let it swing shut and pushed the front door closed, but didn’t shut it tight. She still hoped Kyle would go away. She was not ready for him to be in her house.

  “Rachel said you had to go to a funeral?”

  Mary’s eyebrows rose. Rachel and Kyle sure seemed chummy. “Yeah, it was for Mr. White.”

  Kyle looked alarmed. “Wasn’t that the guy…” he let his question trail off.

  “Yeah, Gran and I were the only ones there. Gran made all the arrangements, too.”

  “Huh.”

  After a moment of neither of them saying anything, Mary got ready to rise and open the door for Kyle. She was halfway up when Gran came in.

  “Oh, hello!” she said with a cheery smile.

  Mary suddenly became very nervous as she remembered Gran’s weird comments about Kyle. He got up and offered the recliner to her. “Hello, Mrs. Dubont.”

  Gran shuffled around and sank down into the recliner. “Oh call me Gran, Kyle. It’s nice to see you again. You’re doing well, I hope?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I came by to drop off Mary’s homework.” Kyle was standing now a bit awkwardly. Mary was sitting in the middle of the sofa. She thought about stretching out to take up as much space as she could. He’d have to leave if there was nowhere to sit.

  Gran chuckled. “You all are much better students than I ever was. I’d’ve been horrified if a friend had brought me homework on a day I missed.”

  Kyle politely chuckled and looked over at Mary on the sofa.

  “Sit down, visit!” Gran said, waving over at Mary and the sofa.

  He looked over at Mary who hadn’t budged from the center of the sofa. It looked like he was beginning to get the hint. “I can’t stay long.”

  “So you’re taking Mary to the homecoming dance?” Gran said.

  The question shot Mary up off the sofa. “Kyle, thanks for bringing over my books.” She went over to the door and opened it.

  Kyle looked a little hurt by the sudden dismissal. He turned and gave Gran a small nod. “It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Dubont.”

  “What did I say?” Gran scolded.

  Kyle smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Gran.” He came over to the door, shot Mary a look and went outside. Mary glanced back at Gran as Kyle slid by her. Gran was giving her a shrewd look. She slipped out the door and trailed after Kyle. He’d stopped at the end of the sidewalk and was waiting for her.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  “What?” Mary asked.

  He sighed with a shake of his head. “If you don’t want to go to the homecoming dance with me, just say so.”

  “What?” Mary said again. Where’d he get that idea?

  “It’s fine. I know you don’t usually do stuff like that.”

  Mary wasn’t sure what to say. “I was looking forward to it.”

  “You were?”

  “Well, if you’re not going to take me, then of course I’m not going. The only reason I thought I would go was if we went together.” Mary suddenly realized her eyes were stinging. She blinked them rapidly and looked at the grass.

  “Mary?”

  She waved her hand at him, but kept her head down. She was still struggling to not show her full disappointment, which might involve sniffling. “It’s fine.”

  Kyle grabbed her hand and stepped in close to her. “Hey, look at me.”

  She shook her head. He lifted her chin to see her face. The tears had been blinked back, thankfully. “I still want to go with you if you want to go,” he said.

  “Then why’d you say you were okay not taking me?”

  “Because in there, you seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “I didn’t want Gran to say something weird to you, that’s all.”

  “Something weird?”

  “Yeah, like parent stuff,” Mary said lamely. She was lying again. She’d been worried Gran would mention Cy or something about Ricky.

  Kyle grinned. “What does she think? I wouldn’t make a good boyfriend?”

  Mary froze. Whoa. Did he just use the b-word? She stared at him in disbelief. They’d been on one pseudo-date, and that had been bad. Did he really think they might— “That’s not—that’s—that’s not—” Mary couldn’t get anything out. The b-word echoed in her ears.

  Kyle’s grin widened. “Bye, Mary. See you tomorrow.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. When he stepped back from her, all the air whooshed back in. He was still smiling when he got into his truck and backed out. Mary continued to stand in the front yard after he left. Her mouth may have been hanging open.

  “Boyfriend?” she finally said to herself. She was brought out of her daze by an unfamiliar car turning into the driveway.

  The passenger side window slid
down, and the driver leaned over the seat to ask her, “Is this Old Grannie Fortunetelling?”

  Mary nodded and her arm came up automatically to point at where she could park. “Yeah, just pull around back. The entrance is in back.”

  The lady didn’t thank her or anything, instead she hit the gas too hard and gravel spat everywhere in her wake. Mary jumped back and gave the back of the car a sour look. She went back inside. Gran was already out of the living room and in her office. Mary went to the kitchen and checked the schedule that hung on the fridge. There was someone penciled in. The name was Smith. A lot of people gave fake names, Smith being the most popular. The surly attitude and probable fake name put Mary on alert. Mr. Graham had said it was a woman who had stolen Mr. White’s hand. Could this be her? She crept back to the office. Gran didn’t like for her to eavesdrop. She’d gotten into trouble for it chronically when she was younger, but she didn’t like the feel of this lady. She was nervous about Gran being alone with her.

  The lady was already in Gran’s office when Mary crept back. Gran was offering her a seat and asking if she would like something to drink. Gran liked to keep things casual and hospitable with new clients. She wanted to put them at ease because they were usually very nervous. If she didn’t put them at ease, their nervousness would mess with whatever task they wanted Gran to perform.

  Ms. Smith didn’t seem to have any desire to take Gran up on her hospitality or keep things casual. “You read palms, correct?”

  “Yes, and Tarot cards. Would you like your fortune told?”

  “Read my palm.”

  It sounded like Ms. Smith flopped her arm onto the table.

  “Let me clean it first.”

  “What?”

  “It helps me give an accurate reading.”

  “Fine. Get on with it.”

  Ms. Smith certainly was a hard case. Gran was probably right now using a baby wipe on her palm. Then there was silence for a few moments, as Gran was surely pondering the lines before beginning to give the fortune. Mary had read a book on palmistry, like she’d told Kyle. She knew the lines: heart, head, life, sun, Mercury, fate, and the girdle of Venus. She even knew the mounts: Luna, Mars, Venus, Saturn, Jupiter, Mercury, Sun, and Rahu and Ketu. She knew them like one would memorize anatomy, but interpreting them was lost on her. She could stare and stare but not know what to tell the person. Gran said she just needed to build up her confidence, but Mary just couldn’t believe the things she thought she saw in a person’s palm. She flipped over her own palm and studied it while she waited for Gran to speak. Her heart line was strong. Supposedly, she lived through her emotions rather than through logic. She didn’t know if that were true, but it sounded possible. Gran refused to give her too close a reading, saying it was bad for fortune-tellers to focus their skills on family. Like a doctor working on a relative.

  “You are seeking something and cannot accept the thought of not attaining it, but this something will bring you no good. It will ruin you if you keep pursuing it.”

  “Only if I don’t get it,” Ms. Smith said.

  “No, even if you do get it.”

  “Does it say how I get this something?”

  Gran sighed, obviously unhappy that her warning wasn’t being heeded. She was quiet again. Mary wondered if Gran was suspicious too of what Ms. Smith was after. “It is guarded.”

  “Well, I need it. How do I get it?”

  Gran was quiet again. Mary worried what Ms. Smith would do if Gran couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know. Mary began to wonder how she could find out who this woman really was. She was taking everything Gran said seriously even if she was disregarding it. If Ms. Smith didn’t get what she wanted and thought Gran was holding out on her, things could get tense. Why was she here now? If she had the Hand of Glory, she could just stroll in whenever she wanted to get the box.

  “Don’t confuse desire with necessity,” Gran said.

  “Oh, what I’m seeking is very necessary.”

  Gran didn’t reply immediately. Mary wondered if it might not be best to just give Ms. Smith the box so she would go and hopefully never darken their doorstep again. “I’m sorry, Ms. Smith. I can’t say how you’ll get what you seek.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t, madam. I’m very sorry, but you wouldn’t want me to lie, would you?”

  “No, Mrs. Dubont. I don’t want you to lie.” Her meaning was clear. She thought Gran was lying to her. Mary didn’t like this at all. She turned to go get the phone and call Kyle or maybe the police. She stepped wrong, and the floorboards creaked.

  “Who’s out there?” Ms. Smith called.

  Mary silently cursed as she turned around. Maybe just knowing there was another person in the house would cool her down. She pushed the beads aside and stepped in. “It’s just me. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but Gran, you need to get ready for your seven o’clock.”

  Gran played along smoothly. She looked at her watch and nodded her head. “Yes, you’re right. Ms. Smith, if you’d like to schedule an appointment for another reading, I’d be happy to oblige.”

  Ms. Smith was staring at Mary. It was making her uncomfortable. “And, I won’t charge you full price for this reading. Just half. That’ll be twenty-five dollars.”

  Ms. Smith reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet. She tossed a fifty onto the table. “No need to give me a discount. I take it you’re her granddaughter?”

  Mary only nodded, not wanting to get into a conversation with her.

  “Do you read palms, too?”

  Mary shook her head.

  “But you think it’s pretty cool, right? Your grandma, the fortuneteller.”

  She couldn’t keep nodding and shaking her head without beginning to look like an idiot. “Yeah, I think it’s pretty cool.”

  “You do more than fortunetelling, don’t you, Mrs. Dubont? You hold séances, as well?”

  “I’ve stepped back from that line of work,” Gran lied.

  Ms. Smith finally rose from her chair. “Shame. I would imagine good money is in that as well.”

  “It can be dangerous.”

  Ms. Smith gave her a sharp look. “How so?”

  “People who come seeking the dead are highly emotional. Sometimes what they hear isn’t what they want and things are worse than before.”

  “Yes, I suppose drama is inevitable. Well, I’ll take my leave of you ladies.” The way she’d said drama was weird. Like it was a good thing.

  They watched Ms. Smith leave and listened to her car rev and leave the driveway faster than it should. “She was a bit scary,” Mary said.

  Gran shrugged and held the fifty up to the light to check the watermark. “She pays well though. Fifty dollars for thirty minutes of work. Not bad, huh?”

  Mary rolled her eyes. If Ms. Smith called, she was going to find Gran’s appointment book full until the next leap year. “Do you think that was her?”

  “What, dear?” Gran asked.

  “The one who stole Mr. White’s hand? Mr. Graham said it was a woman, and here she is suddenly asking about getting something that she wants and it’s dangerous.”

  Gran frowned. “I don’t think so. She’s pushy, but I got the sense that what she wants is something from me.”

  “Like the box?” Mary persisted. It seemed obvious to her.

  Gran shook her head. “Not something physical. She wants me to do something for her, but I won’t.”

  “What does she want you to do?”

  “I don’t know. She hasn’t asked me yet.”

  Mary wasn’t convinced. Ms. Smith seemed like a prime suspect to her. “I don’t want you meeting with her alone. Make sure I’m here if she comes back.”

  Gran sighed. “I’ll try, but I don’t think we have anything to worry about with Ms. Smith.”

  “Well, someone stole Mr. White’s hand.”

  “I know, dear. I know.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  "Mary, your breakfast is ready!"

>   Mary clomped down the stairs to the kitchen. She didn’t feel like going to school, but then she never felt like going to school. Having had Monday off, she felt even more disinclined. Actually, she felt really tired. She rubbed her eyes and made a beeline for the coffee.

  “Are we sure homeschooling isn’t for me?” she asked. It was an oft-asked question, especially in the morning before she left. She poured some coffee into a travel mug. She usually drank it with cream and sugar, but didn’t bother this morning. She didn’t care how it tasted. She just wanted the caffeine.

  Gran shook her head. “I don’t want to go back to school anymore than you, even if it would be here and I’d be the teacher,” she said.

  Mary rolled her eyes and slumped into her chair.

  “There is something I need to tell you,” Gran said as she placed a plate of scrambled eggs before her.

  "What is it?" she asked. She noticed Gran still had the cordless phone in her hand.

  "Mr. White's building burned down last night. It was destroyed."

  "Whoa. What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

  Gran shook her head. "Thankfully, no. And the surrounding buildings are okay as well."

  “Do they know what caused it?”

  “They think it was accidental. You remember his apartment. It was very cluttered. One spark, and it would’ve burned quickly.”

  “This seems a little too coincidental.”

  “I know.”

  “I wonder where Ms. Smith was last night.”

  “I’m not about to ask her. Now eat up, or you’ll be late for school.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Mary wasn't sure what to expect when she went to school. It felt like her life had been put on a roller coaster ride, but everyone at school just gave her blank looks. She was still weird, but she was currently boring weird. That was fine with her. She had enough going on without the school persecuting her more than usual.

  She had to hunt down Rachel during lunch. Her friend hadn't appeared during TAB, and she wasn't in their usual spot out on the lawn. Mary finally tracked her down in the gym wing. She was sitting with some drama kids. Mary slowed down as she approached. She wasn't friends with them. She found them kind of fake. They tried too hard at expressing themselves. Everything was either a tragedy or high comedy. It got old really fast. Rachel, though, could be as dramatic as the best of them. This could go very badly.