The Water Seer

by HMC

  ‘Modesta had the Visita,’ Mum started.

  Anna raised her eye brows. ‘How bad?’

  ‘On a scale of one to ten?’ I said. ‘Off the bloody Richter.’

  ‘Geez, kiddo. Tell me from start to finish.’

  I told the story again. Every detail of the woman’s face, how it felt, how I used a spell to banish her. I had more questions for Anna than I realised, and they all came pouring out. ‘How can I get hurt in a vision? Did that ever happen to Cat?’

  ‘Not that I recall, Mouse.’ Anna said.

  ‘Could she have killed me? Why did I have to use a banishing spell in a Visita? It’s not even real yet … it’s supposed to be a future I can change.’ I tried to stay calm, but the more I talked about it the more afraid I became. ‘I didn’t even think I could see my own future, anyway!’

  ‘Calm yourself, now. Your Mum and I are here. Cat’s here somewhere, too, I’m sure. Nothing’s gonna get to you, kiddo. This place has more protection spells around it than Merlin’s tower. So does your house.’

  ‘What?’ This was news to me. ‘Why?’

  Mum and Anna glanced at each other, thinking I wouldn’t notice.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Mouse, you have to know,’ said Anna, ‘that if there are good witches, like you and me, there are bad ones, too.’

  Mum put her hand on mine. I knew all about yin and yang. I knew that darkness had to exist for there to be light. But why would this witch be coming for me?

  Anna seemed to read my mind.

  ‘I’ll get my cards. Let’s find out what this bruja wants.’ Anna pronounced it ‘brewhaa,’ just like Cat would’ve.

  Anna left and returned with her deck. They were a gift from Mum. Anna spread her velvet across the table and wiped her cards with silk. She shuffled the Baraja Española pack. Anna had me touch them and focus on the woman’s face. It wasn’t hard to do. She hadn’t really left my head. That red in her eyes. That awful, snake-like tongue.

  A few cards pulled my hand towards them – like they were metal, and my fingers were magnets. I handed them to Anna and she placed them in a gypsy spread from left to right, three rows of seven. One card flew off the table. Mum gasped. Anna picked it up and placed it above the spread. It was an ace – bastos. I knew enough to see the spread was bad. My top card meant lies, bad faith, and death.

  Anna surveyed the table. ‘Espadas, bastos. This isn’t good. There’s a woman, jealousy, magic. Fear.’ She pointed to the corresponding cards. ‘She comes from afar. There is so much pain. And anger. She wants something. Needs it.’ Anna spoke fast. ‘Here she will find it.’ She thought for a second, and shook her head. ‘Our homes become unstable, I’m afraid. Fear escalates and spreads. We must protect ourselves. We must protect…’ Anna put a hand over a card. She pulled away suddenly. Anna stared at me and swallowed. ‘She comes.’

  This was like a bad horror movie.

  ‘Who come?’ Mum put a hand over her mouth. ‘Now?’

  ‘Anna?’ I said. She was far away. Her eyes lost their usual glimmer. Anna’s face was drawn. I reached over and grabbed her shoulder. ‘Anna!’ I shook her.

  Anna’s mouth opened wide. Her voice was high-pitched, like a child’s. ‘Saaaacmiiiiiiiiissssssssssss.’ She continued to hiss, until I stood and pulled her up out of her chair. ‘Anna.’

  Mum ran from the balcony and returned with the pitcher of cold water. ‘Wake up. You wake up NOW.’ She threw the cold water over Anna.

  Anna coughed and spluttered. She inhaled to catch her breath. ‘Cold! Cold! Cold!’ she said.

  Mum and I held onto her until she calmed. ‘You’re okay,’ I said. ‘You’re okay now.’

  After a few moments, Anna was able to sit down. I fetched a towel from inside and draped it over her shoulders. Anna shuddered. ‘What was that?’ I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before. I left my body, but I heard what I was saying. I kind of said it, but I didn’t … Sacmis?’ Anna looked at me.

  I nodded. ‘Sacmis.’

  I was seven or eight when Cat first told me the story. It was one of many. I pictured Cat’s face now, her dark hair hanging around her shoulders and her Spanish eyes fixed upon mine. ‘I have this story in my journal.’ I pulled the thick, tattered book out of my bag. I turned to the front, where I had written several stories down.

  Sacmis was a little girl, found by the villagers next to the River Nile, close to the ancient Egyptian city of Luxor. She was found with nothing but the clothes on her back. Her body was black and blue with bruises, and red with wounds. From what or who, no one knew. She was alone.

  She said nothing but her own name. No one knew where she came from, or what terrors she’d seen. Some said she sprung from the River Nile itself, and the trip left her battered and broken. Some say the Gods were punishing her and she was left to live as a human – to endure the suffering of this world.

  Her hair was copper, and her eyes shone with a red in the sun never seen before by the people. She was beautiful. But, beauty meant nothing when food was scarce. No one could take Sacmis in.

  Though his family was scraping by, a farmer named Ptah took Sacmis into his home. Ptah and his wife were kind and loving, and they gave Sacmis everything they could. But soon, his own two children – a son and a daughter – grew jealous of Sacmis. They teased her and called her names.

  The more the children taunted Sacmis, the better Ptah and his wife treated her to make up for their childrens’ foibles. Still Sacmis did not speak, which only gave the children encouragement to continue their bullying.

  Ptah struggled to keep his family fed. Before too long, bread, salted fish, and geese appeared in the farm house. Ptah knew it was Sacmis. How she came by these goods he didn’t know. Thankful to the Gods for his luck, Ptah fed and cared for Sacmis and his family until she came of age. Rather than leave home, she stayed on, helping with the cooking and mending. Ptah’s children grew up and moved on, but they never accepted Sacmis. Eventually, they had children of their own.

  One day, Ptah’s boss knocked on his door, and told Ptah he’d be receiving a raise. This was unheard of in the village, and news spread of Ptah’s good fortune. His wife was thrilled, and tried to persuade him it was due to his excellent work.

  The villagers soon forgot the suffering Ptah and his family had been through in the past. They only resented his special treatment.

  Though Ptah knew they were jealous of his good fortune, the villagers gave him the best cuts of meat, the freshest grapes and figs, and even invited him to their homes. He turned them down. Ptah knew when they were being overly kind, it was Sacmis. Somehow, it was her influence that had brought it about. Was it some kind of magic? Ptah didn’t know, but one thing was certain – magic was trouble, and the attention from the villagers was becoming too much for a quiet man.

  Sacmis returned one day and Ptah noticed her belly was growing round. He thought it could be from the extra food, but as time went on, Sacmis continued to grow. He wondered which man in the village had done this to her. Because of her beauty, there were many young men who fussed over her. How could he tell which?

  ‘Sacmis, name the father of the child you carry,’ he whispered one day, as they stood together outside, by the river. She shook her head. ‘Tell me,’ Ptah said. Still, Sacmis shook her head. She sighed heavily, and threw her arms around Ptah. She sobbed. He stroked her hair. ‘What will become of this?’ he said to the wind.

  That night, Ptah spoke to his wife. ‘That girl is with child,’ he said. ‘We already have enough trouble with the people of the village. It’s time she left.’ Ptah had made up his mind, and there was nothing his wife could do to stop him. Upon their visit with the grandchildren, Ptahs’ son and daughter were happy to hear the news. ‘We’ve never liked her. She causes nothing but trouble,’ said the daughter. And the more they talked, the worse their revisionist history regarding the poor girl became, and even the wife joined in. It made them feel justified in casting her aside. Ptah’s ending word
s were, ‘She’s brought shame upon our family, and must leave at once.’

  Little did they know, Sacmis had heard the conversation. She sat by the side of the house and wept with her hand on her stomach. The ache in her heart was so overwhelming she could hardly breathe. That night, as she walked on, with no place to go to, there was a sharp pain in her stomach. Soon blood trickled down her leg.

  Sacmis lost the babe – the only human that might have ever truly loved her.

  It was in that moment, weeping on the ground, with blood beneath her, and with all that she’d lost screaming in her head, that Sacmis forgot everything human within her heart.

  And that night, something evil possessed Ptah. He killed everyone in the village with his bare hands, including his very own wife, children, and grandchildren.

  I placed my journal down. Mum held a hand on her heart.

  Anna studied me. She sipped her tea. The laughter of the kids across the road playing football in the sunshine seemed out of place, and it felt as though it should’ve been night time, with a howling wind whipping up the ocean to set the mood. Instead, people were strolling, exercising, and having a big day out with their children. Meanwhile, I was I wondering how safe my tiny family and I were from some evil force that might be inclined to visit at any given moment. Peekaboo … I see you.

  ‘I don’t think you had a Visita, Mouse,’ Anna said. ‘I know it’s not a spirit. Cat would never have allowed that. As you mentioned, it came through when you listened to the water in your sink. Your agua. Now, if there’d been a roaring fire in your bathroom, I’d have doubts. Then there’s the protection spells around your house…’ Anna was thinking.

  ‘Could it be some kind of message from another source? A warning maybe?’ I said.

  She nodded. ‘It makes sense.’

  I thought for a moment. ‘But why couldn’t Cat, or the guide – or whoever – just come instead of showing me that horrid woman? Plus, it hurt me.’

  Anna shook her head. ‘Good question. Maybe whoever it was isn’t trained in the craft. Perhaps showing you the threat was more effective.’

  ‘Right. Thanks, newbie, for scaring the beejeesus out of me and ripping up my hand. I wish Cat was here.’ The words escaped before I could suck them back in.

  Mum rubbed my shoulder. ‘Catalina will come.’ I put my hand over hers. Mum’s warm skin, and the sparkle in her eyes, reminded me I wasn’t alone. It was lucky for me I had these two special women in my life and they had some idea what was going on. I hadn’t meant to sound ungrateful – I was lucky to have them. Experiencing this on my own would’ve been frightening. Well, even more so.

  I sipped my tea. The taste and scent of the chai was a comfort. ‘What do you think this woman wants?’ I asked Anna.

  She licked her lips and studied the cards. After a while, she looked up at us. ‘Honestly?’ She pointed to the two bastos. ‘A child,’ she said. ‘I think this thing wants a child.’

  Mum gasped. She put a hand up to her mouth, as if to cover up a scream.

  ‘Well she can’t have any of my children.’ Anna folded her arms, referring to the 542 students in her care. ‘No way, no how.’

  ‘What are we going to do about it?’ I said.

  Anna looked at Mum. ‘What do you think, Connie? Do we wait this out a little?’

  Mum thought for a moment. She glanced at the kids playing football across the road and kept her eyes on them as she spoke. ‘We wait.’ She turned back to me. ‘Modesta, you must watch for the signs. Whatever is coming, we need more to know.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Anna. She ran a hand over her spread, as if the cards might change. ‘How this woman is related to Sacmis, I don’t know. I can’t mine much more from this reading, but I’m sure it will come to us.’

  I exhaled. It wasn’t until I loosened my neck and shoulders that I realised how tense I was. ‘I have to remember that trick,’ I said.

  ‘Which trick is that?’ said Anna.

  ‘The one where you relax and let the Universe tell you all you need to know –especially under circumstances like these. It’s impossible.’

  Anna nodded. ‘Don’t worry. Somehow, I have a feeling we won’t have to wait long.’ She finished her tea. ‘Mouse?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Stay away from your bathroom,’ she said.

  I laughed, even though I could’ve cried instead. ‘Not a prob, Anna.’

  Mouse’s Journal

  My first Visita. Noon (I think) April, 2006. Elder Entrance house, backyard.

  Roman is a golden retriever. He is a shiny-coated puppy with eyes that never leave me. I was swinging on my tire in the backyard – it’s still connected to the sugar gum – when I first saw him. I was missing Cat that day because I was wishing she could see the new house. I was thinking how lonely it would be on Anna’s balcony with just the three of us. I was angry because I thought I’d never learn to be a water seer like Cat now she was gone. Anna was special, but she wasn’t my Aunty.

  Mum was cooking in the kitchen. I could hear her banging pots and pans around to soothe her aching heart. Cooking did that for her. Not me, though. I needed the ocean, the trees, or at least the sky above.

  Back and forth I went, swinging, hoping to hear her again. ‘I miss you, Cat,’ I whispered to no one. The smell of lilac hit me. I could almost feel the oil on my skin. The distant sound of Bon Jovi crooned about how he was a cowboy, and on a steel horse he’d ride.

  ‘You’ll be all right, Sirenita,’ she replied.

  ‘Cat?’

  ‘This is Roman,’ she said. The golden puppy appeared before me.

  ‘Whoa! He’s so cute!’ I jumped off the swing and bent down to pat Roman. My hand went straight through him. I gasped and fell to my knees. Roman disappeared.

  ‘Cat? What happened?’

  ‘Roman needs your help, Mouse. He’s lost. He’ll be passing by your house in about five minutes, and I want you to go out the front, pick him up, and bring him upstairs. He’s a good boy. He’ll let you carry him. He needs to go home. Can you do that, Sirenita?’

  ‘Yes, Aunty.’ I was hesitant. As you can imagine, Cat sounded in my head like my own thoughts. I could’ve been talking to myself … and answering. Even scarier.

  I sat on the short brick wall that was – and still is – my front fence. After the fourth minute, I felt as if I’d definitely imagined the whole thing. I was so young; confused and terrified I’d started hearing voices. I’d be passenger one on the next bus to crazy town. Population: tea.

  Sure enough, Roman plodded down the path, cute as he was in my vision, but this time real.

  ‘Come here, Roman! Good boy. Oh, you’re a good boy.’ I picked him up and took him upstairs to Mum.

  ‘What you have there, Modesta? He is a pretty boy, he is.’ Mum patted Roman on the head, and then frowned. ‘You cannot be taking people’s dogs. Where he come from? You take him back.’

  ‘He needs to go home. Can we call the number? It’s written on his dog collar,’ I pleaded.

  ‘Very good.’ Mum called and Roman was picked up within the hour.

  I went to see Roman a few times after that. He’s now around two-and-a-half years away from retiring as a guide dog for a man called Rodney Spencer.

  ‘Good job, Sirenita,’ Cat said, as I lay on my bed, waiting for dinner that night. I held a photo of her as she spoke, and pretended it was a normal conversation with two living people. Not weird at all.

  ‘Will you come back again?’ I said.

  Cat sighed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know, my sweet. But one thing you must know is, you’re a water seer now, just like you wanted. There will be things you have to do, and you’re going to have to be brave, you hear?’

  ‘What kinds of things, Aunty?’ I sniffed.

  ‘Listening to agua. Looking for signs. Learning your craft. Anna will teach you. Your mother will be your anchor. Do you know what that means?’ I did. I nodded. ‘You have to listen
, and you have to obey. There are consequences if you don’t.’

  ‘You mean punishment if I don’t do the job?’ I said.

  ‘Sort of. You’ll do just fine, though. But if you ignore the messages, if you ignore the warnings, bad luck follows. You understand? I know from experience.’

  I rolled over on my bed and stared at her photo. ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘I know, Sirenita. We had no choice. You are the only female left in our family with a strong connection to agua. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be around to help. Okay? I love you.’

  ‘I love you, Aunty.’

  ‘You all right, mate?’ A scruffy man glared over the counter. His face was familiar. He was one of the recovering addicts who used the methadone clinic across the street, and came in for a sandwich and cream bun most days.

  ‘Sorry. Yeah, I’m okay.’ I was at work at the bakery. Focus, Mouse.

  I tried to gain balance over my body. He passed me a ten dollar note and waited, but I didn’t know what to punch into the till. I looked at the counter and saw a sandwich bag and a cream bun. Okay, think, girlie. Concentrate. ‘$6.40 for one sandwich and a cream bun.’ I waited another second in case he corrected me and rang it up. ‘$3.60 change. Have a good day.’

  ‘See ya.’ He left with his food, and I took several deep, controlled breaths to steady myself. My thoughts were bouncing around my head like an echo in a cave. I swayed a little. For a moment, I’d forgotten where I was and what I was doing. It was like I’d just woken up in the bakery and had to retrace my steps. How I’d come to be at work all flooded back, but not like reaching for a normal memory – more like reaching for one from a week or two ago.

  The morning’s little event popped into my head like a nightmare from childhood. Sacmis. Anna and Mum would still be drinking tea and talking about it, including whatever it is they were hiding from me. They way they’d stolen glances at each other as if I wouldn’t notice. Was I being paranoid? Maybe.