by Jack Massa
Next moment, they’re gone.
I’m standing alone in the silent clearing, under the silent moon.
I’m alive. And I belong in this world.
I run for the road and Granma’s car.
When I pull the minivan up in front of Granma’s house, a Harmony Springs police car is parked there. I jump out and run inside.
In the living room I see Granma sitting up on the couch. Molly is in a chair, talking to an officer, who is taking notes. Another officer is kneeling in the corner, beside Fiona. She’s sitting on the floor, clutching her stomach, staring straight ahead like she’s in shock.
“Abby!” Granma calls.
I rush over and hug her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Are you okay? Fiona didn’t touch you, did she?”
“No. No, I’m fine. But you’re all wet. And your arms are cut.”
“I’m okay.”
Molly’s standing beside me. “Yeah? You look like you’ve been through a blender.” She examines my arms, then calls to the officer. “Jim, we need first aid for this girl.”
Jim gets up and heads for the door. Molly shouts after him, “And get on the radio and tell them Abby Renshaw’s here, and she’s okay.” She turns back to me. “Ray-Ray’s got the whole shift out looking for you.”
“He does? Is he okay?”
“Yeah. A little wet, from what I hear.” Molly tilts her head toward the corner. “I think the only one who’s not okay is Fiona.”
I sit down and take hold of Granma’s hands. “What happened with Fiona?”
“She showed up about an hour—no, more like forty minutes ago,” Molly answers.
“She said she needed to talk with me,” Granma says. “But she sounded strange, incoherent, almost like she was…” She hesitates.
“Possessed.” Molly supplies the word. “All of a sudden, she jumped up and started screaming. Something about you and Margaret and her patron. She stumbled around and fell. Then she crawled over to the corner and hasn’t moved since.”
I look at Fiona, who is staring at nothing. I’m thinking that when Raspis was blown out of this world, he took her mind with him. I shiver.
Jim comes with the first aid kit and starts wiping the muck and blood off my arms.
“So,” Molly says. “And how was your evening?”
Later, after I’m patched up, after the ambulance comes and takes Fiona away, after Chief Quick and Ray-Ray arrive to check on us and take Molly home, after I finally get a shower and something to eat, I say goodnight to Granma and crawl up to bed.
But tired as I am, I don’t fall asleep.
I’m bruised and sore from the cuts, but that’s not keeping me awake. Something else…I’m still charged from the power of The Book of Lebab and of that circle, of all the shamans and magicians of the Springs.
I stand up and go to the window. The full moon is high, and I can see Bliss Bayou clearly. I stare for a long time, not sure if what I’m seeing is real.
I put on my shoes and walk quietly down the stairs. I go out through the kitchen and cross the backyard in the moonlight. A little path leads down to a spot where I have a good view of the water.
No question about it: under the bright moon, the water is flowing fast and clear.
Bliss Bayou has changed back to Bliss Spring.
24. So, is Guardian of the Springs a viable career choice?
I sleep till early afternoon.
When I finally get up, I feel like a disaster area. The cuts on my arms and legs aren’t too bad, but I ache in every muscle. I trudge down to the living room and find Granma beaming.
“How are you feeling, Abby?”
“Okay. I’m sorry I slept in, Granma. I didn’t get you breakfast.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I got my own. Listen, Kevin called this morning. Violet’s awake. They think she’s going to be all right.”
I slump into a chair and let out my breath. I’m so happy, so grateful.
Granma continues: “Kevin told me the first thing Violet said when she woke up was ‘Abby did it.’ So, Abby, what exactly did you do?”
When Molly questioned me last night, I said very little. I was just too tired to sift through what to say and not say. Now I give Granma the whole story, everything that’s happened to me all week, culminating with last night. She listens with a calm, thoughtful expression, like it’s all wonderful and makes perfect sense. And like she’s really proud of me.
When I tell her about meeting George Renshaw, and give her his message, her eyes glisten with tears. “Oh, my. I’ve felt so close to him lately, ever since I started spiritual work again. I talk to him now sometimes. But it’s so nice to hear that message—and to know you got to meet him.”
Later, Molly calls to check on me and to fill me in on the news.
As I learned last night, Ray-Ray swam to a safe distance downstream, then got to a phone at a neighbor’s house. Within fifteen minutes, three police cars converged on the Alden house. They drove up with lights flashing, but no sirens.
The Wainwrights saw them coming and tried to run, but they didn’t get very far. Inside the house, the police found Adam Gathers, Phil Deering, and Elston Tyler. They were sitting in the living room, drinking brandy. Based on Ray-Ray’s evidence, all six men were arrested on charges of unlawful imprisonment and attempted murder.
At first Deering and Tyler tried to explain it all as a misunderstanding. But when Adam found out that Fiona was in custody and unresponsive, he cracked. He confessed to the whole Save Harmony Springs conspiracy and the occult circle. He said that Fiona believed she was in communication with the ghost of her great-aunt and with her great-aunt’s patron spirit. Adam claimed he only found out last night that they intended to bewitch the Renshaw girl into drowning herself.
Hearing all this, Deering and Tyler also rolled on Fiona. They’re angling for a plea bargain. Meanwhile, Fiona’s in no position to tell her story. She’s under observation in the county psychiatric ward. The diagnosis is catalepsy, brought on by an acute psychotic break.
“The others are all at the county detention center,” Molly tells me, “being held without bail. Oh, and my dad says you’ll need to come down and give a statement as soon as you’re feeling up to it.”
Well, that should be interesting. “Is Ray-Ray all right?”
“I think so. Last night he was all charged up, with the arrests and everything. Today he seems kind of moody, like he’s got a lot on his mind.”
“Right.” Busting an evil cult, getting shot at, finding out that the supernatural is real. Not to mention kissing a new girl—a girl he thinks is pretty strange. I guess he has a lot to sort out.
Maybe I should call and help him.
No. I decide I better give him space.
Monday morning, I go down to police headquarters and give my statement. I haven’t seen Ray-Ray since Friday night, and I’m hoping he’ll be there. But he’s not. Instead I meet with Chief Quick, a stenographer, and Ms. Ramirez, a county prosecutor.
I’ve thought hard about what to say, and I rehearsed it with Granma. Of course, I have to tell the truth. But I also have to consider my oath not to reveal any secrets of the Circle of Harmony.
So I can tell the truth, and nothing but the truth. But the whole truth? That’s where it gets dicey.
I start by explaining how Molly and I found the magical chamber in the attic of the Alden house. Since then, I say, I’ve suspected that people were doing evil magic there, and that it was related to the fights and vandalism in the town. Then I had a premonition that something terrible was going to happen the night of the full moon, and that I needed to go there and try to stop it.
So that explains how I ended up at the Alden house. For the rest, I can pretty much repeat what Ray-Ray must have said. We were locked in the storage room together, and the
n they took me upstairs to the attic. I managed to get away and lock the attic door. Then I let Ray-Ray out, and we made a run for it.
I’m relieved that they don’t press me for details about how I escaped the attic. And I don’t even need to mention what happened in the clearing at the top of Bliss Bayou. In fact, Ms. Ramirez and Chief Quick don’t probe at all into the occult stuff. They only want facts that will help make the charges stick, and the simpler, the better. They seem satisfied that my story matches Ray-Ray’s on the key points—that we were locked in the storage room against our will and that at least two of the men shot at Ray-Ray from the dock.
When I’ve signed the statement, Ms. Ramirez thanks me and says that it’s possible I’ll have to testify in court, but not likely. I gather she figures that my talking about premonitions on the stand would not be terribly convincing. She says that with all the plea bargaining and Fiona’s incapacity, it’s looking like the case might never go to trial at all.
I’m actually surprised there’s so little interest in the occult aspects of the story. I’ve had paranoid fantasies of cable news trucks and TV interviewers storming the town. And my mom seeing headlines like “Harmony Springs Preservation Group Linked to Devil Worship” or, worse, “New Jersey Teen Intended Victim of Cult Murder.”
Even Molly’s blog posts are restrained. She’s focusing only on the facts of the arrests and on what she’s hearing about investigations into the Alden-Gathers’ finances. It’s possible there will be further charges of criminal conspiracy or fraud. When I ask Molly about the paranormal angle, she admits that her dad warned her about writing anything that might be construed as libelous, Phil Deering being a lawyer and all.
“Besides,” Molly says, “no one wants to talk about that stuff. I think they just don’t want to believe it.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Seriously, Abby. I’m having to rethink my whole paranormal investigations blog. I mean, by following this story, I’ve proven to myself that the spirit world is real. But just writing the truth won’t convince other people. And I’m not even sure I should try.”
“These things are secret,” I quote, “and should not be taken lightly.”
“Exactly. I think I understand that now. I think, at this point in my career, it’s better to stick with hard news.”
People in town seem much more interested in the fact that Bliss Spring is flowing again. When a hydrologist from the Florida Geological Survey comes out with instruments and diving gear the next day, Molly is on the spot to interview him. He reports that it’s a first magnitude spring, with roughly half the flow of the four other springs combined. When asked why the spring is suddenly open again, he says it must be due to a pressure shift in the aquifer—rare, but not unheard of.
Absolutely no mention of Lebab.
People always look for the rational explanation.
That night, still pondering this, I sit down to do the Daily Ablution. When I approach the fifth Spring, Annie Renshaw is waiting for me.
“Greetings, dear friend. I wondered how you were doing.”
I smile to see her. “I’m good. Everything is good.”
She peers at me a moment, reading me. “You are surprised that no one is demanding more explanations about the magic you experienced. This is partly due to Lebab’s influence. He works to keep these things hidden from those who are not ready to understand. It is best for all involved, and best for the springs.”
I can see how that makes sense. “I’m still trying to understand exactly what happened that night. I had a strong sense that I was drawn to the circle at the top of the bayou, that we all were.”
“Yes, I definitely believe that.”
“Did the Great Goddess do that?”
Annie seems amused. “You mean, was it Her will working through you, or your will working through Her? That’s a question a magician can never answer. It is a mystery of our art. The important thing is, you and Raspis were drawn there, to the place where he was formed. He did not perceive it was also the place where he would end, the place where you—where all of us—could most easily raise the power to unmake him.”
“So Raspis is definitely gone for good.”
“Exactly. For good.”
“And Lebab’s power is free again, and that is why Bliss Spring is flowing?”
“Yes, Abigail.” She looks deep into my eyes. “But your help is still needed.”
“How? What do you mean?”
“As long as humans have lived in this place, there have been magicians who guarded the springs and channeled their power. You saw many of them in the circle that night. Now that the power flows freely again, a new guardian will be needed.”
“Me? But I’m only a kid.”
Annie laughs gently. “Not anymore. You are a young woman now. More than that, a woman of power.”
Okay. That’s nice to hear. “What would I have to do?”
“You will learn in time if you choose this path. If you do not, another will be found. Lebab is patient. He does not dwell in human time.”
“Well, that certainly gives me something to think about.”
“Indeed.”
“I have another question for you, Annie. That night in the clearing, after Raspis was blown away, you and Otis went to Margaret, and you treated her as though you were still friends, as though nothing had happened.”
“She is our friend.”
“But after what she did to the two of you. She helped murder you. How could you be so forgiving?”
“You will understand in time, Abigail. From where we exist now, what happened in that lifetime seems so long ago. It’s no more important to us than a quarrel among three-year-olds. But the love we have for our friends, the love of the soul, that lasts forever.”
I’m in the shop on Wednesday morning when my phone chirps.
“Abigail Adams. How R U doing?”
I look at the text and smile. It’s been several weeks since I’ve heard from Franklin. “Benjamin Franklin! Fine. How R U?”
“BORE-DUH. Please entertain me with tales of your exciting summer.”
Hmm. How much is it wise to tell him? “Well, I kissed a guy on Friday night. Not sure where the relationship is going though.”
“Nice. If it doesn’t work out, can I have him on the rebound?”
Picturing that makes me laugh. “Sorry. He is totally not your type.”
“Figures. What else?”
Well…how can I put this? “I’ve done a lot of work for Save Harmony Springs.”
“And did U save the springs?”
“Actually, I believe I did.”
I was supposed to fly back to New Jersey this Sunday, but I’ve decided to stay a little longer. I call Mom to explain.
“Granma went back to the doctor yesterday. Her ankle is coming along fine. In another week she’ll be able to drive, so I want to stay one more week to make sure she’s okay. I’ve gone ahead and changed my flight. I’ll be flying home a week from Sunday instead. I hope you don’t mind too much, Mom.”
“Well, I don’t know. I understand your wanting to take care of her. But that will give us only three weeks to look at colleges.”
“Actually, Mom, I’ve been researching that. There’s a good college only forty minutes from here, Clermont State. I’d really like to apply there. I could live here with Granma and commute.”
“Oh, Abby, no! With your grades, there are so many good schools you could go to.”
“It is a good school. Their graduates seem to do very well. If it doesn’t work out, I could transfer to UF in year or two. Then I could still stay with Granma part of the week. Anyway, I’m thinking of a dual major—English and either business or political science. A degree like that would be really strong for getting me into law school.”
“Law school?”
“Yeah, I’m definitely considering
it.”
Environmental law, to be precise. If I do decide that Guardian of the Springs is my path, I figure a law degree will come in handy. Then I could also work on protecting other historic and wilderness places in Florida. That feels like a really good way to spend my life.
“Wow,” Mom says. “I am glad you’re giving this serious thought. But we’ll talk about it more when you get home, okay?”
“Sure, Mom.”
“I guess I’ll have to get used to the idea that my little girl is growing up.”
Thursday, almost a week after the full moon.
I meet Molly at the antique shop, and we head over to the Presbyterian church. The Save Harmony Springs committee is reorganizing under Reverend Johnson and Jonas Carter. Even though the development plan by the Texas-Brighton Land Company turned out to be bogus, they feel that the organization is still needed. It’s only a matter of time before new development interests show up. The committee wants to keep the idea of preserving the springs alive.
Molly and I walk down Main Street, over the broken sidewalks, under the huge oak branches and Spanish moss. If it’s possible, I think I love this place more than ever.
I ask Molly about Ray-Ray. I still haven’t seen him since the night of the full moon.
“You and Ray-Ray.” Molly laughs. “When did I become your go-between?”
“What do you mean?”
“You keeping asking me about him. He keeps asking me about you. Hey, I just had a thought: why don’t you talk to each other?”
“I know. But—”
“Tell me: did something happen between you two that night? I mean, other than dodging ghosts and bullets?”
“Such as?”
“Something romantic?”
“Well…kissing happened.”
“I knew it! And how did you feel about that?”
“I felt great. I’d like it to happen some more.”
“So why haven’t you called him?”
“I know. I’ve thought about it a bunch of times. But I don’t want to pressure him. I figure if he wants to see me, he’ll call.”
“Right,” Molly says. “I’m sure normally he would. But in this case, there may be a problem.”