Bewitching Belle

by Debra Kristi

  “I’m perfectly fine right here, thank you very much.” I yank the blanket up to my chin.

  “No you’re not.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” I close my eyes. I want to rest them, if only for a moment.

  “You’ll be much more comfortable upstairs,” she says. “Grandma already called Mom and told her you’d be staying the night.”

  “What?” My eyes pop open.

  “Best to keep you safe within the charmed protection of the house.” Miri motions again for me to sit up and I comply, albeit in extremely slow and painful motions.

  “And Mom was alright with that?” My head sways, and I brace myself against the side of the sofa. On the ground at my stockinged feet, I notice my shoes neatly set to my left, and to my right, a large empty bowl and damp washcloth.

  Someone managed to remove my shoes without causing me to stir. I must have been completely zoned out.

  “You’re not well. You need to rest. Mom can’t argue with that. Now, come on. Let’s get you upstairs.” Miri encircles me with a supportive arm, but I wave her away.

  “I can walk on my own.” I tug the blanket around me and shuffle toward the stairs. Miri follows with her hands at the ready, acting as if I might tumble backward at any minute.

  I climb the stairs slower than Grandma, and Miri leads me to our old room. The upper portion of our bunk bed has been removed, leaving a sad, but currently inviting, little bed. I head straight for it. Crash to the surface.

  “I’ve been sleeping in Mike’s old room,” Miri says. “So, you’ll have this room all to yourself tonight.”

  “Great.” I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. My stomach twists, and a sharp pain shoots through me. With a moan, I press my hands to my belly.

  “Are you alright? Can I get you anything?” Miri leans over me, her hands pressing into the air at her side, searching for a purpose… and necessary action.

  “No,” I say, answering both her questions with one word. No, I’m not alright. No, she can’t get me anything. “There isn’t anything you could get me that would help me right now.

  “I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.” She frowns and deep thoughts press into her brow. “Maybe a damp washcloth and your water. I’ll be right back.” Miri rushes from the room. I track her footsteps as they move through the house. She returns within minutes with the bowl, the washcloth, my water, and a small cup of ice chips. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.” She takes a seat on the bed beside me.

  “It’s fine.” I press onto my elbows and take a sip of the water. “Where were you earlier?” Had she been home when I showed up here in my devastated state, she would have gotten to meet Luna.

  “I had a fitting for my gown.” She can barely contain the smile from taking over her entire face. “I still can’t believe this is happening. Wish you had been there. The gown is awe-mazing.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” I hand her my water and drop flat to the bed.

  “But one of the salesgirls was less than ideal to me,” Miri mumbles.

  “Is that your way of saying she was a biotch?”

  “I wouldn’t be so rude, but… yes. The shop isn’t in the Quarter. I stayed away from the forbidden zone, and still. I get attitude and nasty glares. It’s ridiculous.” Her hands curl into tight fists. Squeeze and release.

  “Sorry.” It’s all I can muster. I’m too pained and exhausted. I close my eyes.

  Miri pats my shoulder. “I’m going to let you rest. I’ll check on you later.” She stands, moves toward the door.

  “Where’s Grandma,” I ask before she can slip from the room.

  “She’s running a quick errand. She’ll be back shortly.” Miri props the door half closed and disappears down the hall.

  I succumb to my condition and fall back asleep.

  The rest of the day and night pass in a delirious blur. For a portion of the time, Bastian curls on the bed next to me. Grandma and Miri visit me multiple times, but none of the times do I want for much. Nothing, really. Except when I have to hustle to the bathroom. One time, I wake with a start. Grandma is forcing something down my throat, and that, too, has me rushing to the bathroom rather quickly. Of course, I’m not a hundred percent certain that particular incident, or any of them really, wasn’t a wacked-out hallucination. I also recall ripping away at my clothing, and yet, I’m still dressed.

  I wake to light dribbling through the windows. I shift and a slow, burning ache warms my temples. I respond with a grunt turned whimper.

  Bastian leaps off the bed and dashes from the room. Before that moment, I hadn’t realized he was still in the room with me, watching over me.

  His tiny meow sounds once in the hall before falling silent.

  I sit up and rub my head. Make no attempt to move any further. The first simple action took more energy than I was expecting. A moment later, shuffles accompanied by a soft thump along the hallway announce Grandma’s approach.

  “How are you feeling?” She steps into the room, a sorry smile gracing her lips.

  “Like utter dung.” I massage my forehead. “But with far less dung than yesterday.”

  “Well then, I would say that is an improvement.” She steps up beside me and presses the back of her fingers to my head. “Fever seems to have broken. That’s good. That’s good. Are you hungry?”

  Ugh. Food. The mere thought of food stirs within me the desire to hurl. And yet, my stomach wants for something. It growls like a grumpy beast. “I feel fickle,” I say. “I want for something, and yet I don’t. I doubt I’d be able to keep anything down.”

  Grandma presses her lips together tight and nods. “Maybe a shower to freshen up then. Miri left you a change of clothing in the bathroom.”

  “Maybe.” Hot water pelting my skin does sound rather delicious.

  “And afterwards, we can try a combination of ice chips, crackers, and broth.” She extends her hand to help me stand. I accept but don’t apply any of my weight in the action. Not that I don’t trust Grandma’s sturdy strength, but… I don’t want to end up yanking her on top of me.

  She accompanies me to the bathroom. Even turns on the water for me.

  One glance in the mirror tells me I don’t want any further knowledge of my state. I clearly look like something that just clawed its way out of a deep grave.

  I’m familiar with the bathroom and the placement of everything, so Grandma excuses herself and I eagerly, but slowly, shed my attire and slip beneath the welcoming spray of water. Decide I want to stay there within its beautiful caress forever.

  Of course, I don’t.

  I eventually get out, get dressed, and get myself downstairs to the kitchen.

  Miri and Grandma are sitting at the table. Grandma is nursing a warm coffee, and Miri is sipping on a fugly green juice. I cringe and try not to stare at the liquid. It makes my stomach all sorts of unhappy.

  “I trust the shower helped, if only a little?” Grandma rises from the table and moves deeper into the kitchen.

  I drag myself forward and drop into a chair. Throw my arms out over the table and rest my head. “A little,” I mumble.

  “Try some of this. It may help you regain some strength.” Grandma sets a tray down next to me. I peek through partially closed eyelids. It appears to be the things she promised me, ice chips, crackers, and broth. Plus, something else. A liquid that resembles neither water nor juice.

  “What is that?” I motion, ever slightly, to the drink.

  “A mixture of water and Gatorade.” She returns to her seat at the table. “Water alone will not replenish your body of all the necessities you lost yesterday.”

  I mumble a sound of reluctant acceptance. Turn my head and gaze at Miri. “What are you drinking?”

  “It’s all natural,” she says, lifting the glass from the table. “A mixture of healthy greens to keep my body strong.” She takes a sip.

  “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” I blurt.

  Miri chokes on her drink. Coughs and
sprays green mush across the table.

  “Well. I’ll take that as my cue to give you girls some alone time.” Grandma takes her coffee and leaves the room.

  “How did you know?” Miri wipes her lips and then the table, cleaning up the mess with a napkin.

  “Just a feeling, really. Maybe it’s a witch thing. Or maybe it’s a sister thing. But I had a gut feeling, and now you’ve confirmed it.” I fold my hands and rest my chin on them.

  “Phillip and I kind of want to keep it on the down low until after the wedding.” Miri crumples the dirty napkin. “You can do that, right? Keep it a secret.”

  “Um…” My head sways gently to the left. “I may have let something slip in front of Mom.”

  “Seriously?” Miri groans. “She is the last one I want to know about the baby right now. I don’t need any more grief from her.”

  “I’ll keep her under control. I may have a lead on what her problem is, and it’s magical in nature. A possible mind-control or curse set upon her by Caleb.” I push my upper body upright.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She rises from the table, tosses her dirty napkin in the trash, and washes out her glass, sets in beside the sink. “I’ve been given a lot of thought to the events of two years ago. I suspect Caleb had a deeper influence on her far earlier than we realized.” She turns and leans against the counter. Locks her gaze on me. “The man is dark, and he had designs to tap into our magick. Syphon what is ours for his own personal gain.”

  “Yeah. Too bad we didn’t see it sooner. But we were younger and clueless. What could we have done?” My stomach sounds with a gurgly growl, and I gnaw on a cracker.

  “Maybe Mike…” Miri says.

  “Michael did try,” I interrupt. “Since the first day Caleb walked into our lives. But Mom wouldn’t listen to him. Mom wouldn’t listen to any of us.” I take a sip of the Gatorade-water mixture. It’s almost too sweet for my stomach to allow. I cringe. Swallow and breathe deep.

  “Are you alright?” Miri steps forward. “Need me to get the bowl.”

  I shake my head and wave the notion away. “The bathroom is right there.” I point to the bathroom door.

  “Yes, but even that might be too far, depending on your condition,” she reasons.

  “I’ll be fine. Everything is going to be fine.” My last statement is more of a message to myself, a promise, really, than an evaluation of the current, certain truth.

  “And how do we make sure that it will be?” She returns to the table.

  “I don’t know.” I wave my hand at my side. “I’m still working on that. Can we talk about something else now? Like, the baby, maybe?”

  She gazes downward and rubs her belly. “Little Nara.”

  “So, it’s a girl?” Miri nods. “How do you know?”

  “Moms just know these things sometimes.” She beams at her belly, as if she can see the developing fetus curled up within her.

  “And Phillip?” I ask and collect another cracker from my small pile.

  “Completely thrilled.” She settles her arms on the table and blooms a warm smile. “I’m glad I don’t have to keep this from you any longer. Holding the secret to myself was driving me crazy.”

  “You shouldn’t have tried to keep it from me,” I blurt. “We’re sisters. We should be open with one another.”

  “You’re right.” She drops her head.

  “Is the baby the reason you’re getting married?” I lean into the table.

  “What? No.” Miri’s head snaps up. “I love Phillip and want to spend the rest of my days with him. I don’t want to wait for that part of my life to begin.” She presses her hand to her chest. “I’m hurt that you would even think that.”

  “I just wanted to be sure.” I shrug. “So, Phillip and Grandma know. What about Michael?”

  Miri shakes a solid no. “Not yet.”

  “You should tell him.” I grab another cracker. Although the thought of food makes me feel nauseated, my belly remains in constant need of filling.

  “I’ll have to, now that you know. Leaving him as the odd man out will just piss him off.” She half laughs. A quick glance at the clock, and she is pushing to a stand. “I need to go get ready for class, or I’ll be late.”

  “School? Today?” I blink, glance at the clock. Eight. My school already started. Unlike Miri and her college schedule, I don’t have the luxury of picking my class times. I’m so late.

  “It is Monday,” she says. “Thankfully, my first class isn’t until ten thirty today.” She glances at me and catches my wild expression. “You don’t have to go to school today.” She jabs a finger in my direction. “That is the one and only upside to being ill.” She turns and heads toward the stairs.

  Monday. Monday my coven meets. And it’s the last meeting before the full moon. “My bike?” I push away from the table.

  Miri spins back on me. “I brought it in last night. It’s safe in the back.” She cuts a sharp finger through the air between us. “But you are not to try and ride that thing home. Not today. You hear me? I’m going to call Phillip and have him drive you home, later. After you’ve gotten some more rest.”

  “But. My coven.” My muscles slack, and I feel as if my face is melting toward the ground.

  Miri jabs her fists into her hips and cracks a grin. “So, it’s about your coven and not school. I should have known.” She shakes her head. “You are in no shape for magick today. Trust me. What Grandma did for you last night took a toll on both of you.”

  I jerk straight. What Grandma did? The confused memory of her shoving something in my mouth rushes to the forefront of my mind. “What… what did she do?”

  Chapter Eight

  Miri’s gaze flickers to the clock and back to me. I know… just know, she’s thinking about the time. The time answers to my question will take. The time necessary for her to get ready for school. And the time required to travel from here to her classroom. Can she afford sufficient time to placate me?

  She must decide she does, or at least, that she is going to risk it, because she steps back into the room. “Last night, you weren’t just sick. You were powerfully sick. Somehow, you managed to catch yourself a righteously, nasty bug. And I don’t know how long it would have plagued you had Grandma not stepped in.”

  She takes several quick steps closer, leans toward me, and lowers her voice.

  “But the magick has taken a toll on her. She won’t admit it, but I can see it and it isn’t good.”

  “Did I hear my name come up in the conversation?”

  My gaze snaps past Miri to Grandma who is now standing in the dining area threshold. Somewhere nearby, a buzz saw starts up, along with banging and loud voices… And a sharp pain to my skull.

  Miri startles straight. “And so, it begins,” she says of the home construction project.

  “How long will you have to put up with that?” I ask.

  “Too long, I’m afraid,” Grandma responds.

  “I need to get ready, so I’m going to let you get Belle up to speed on her condition and what you did for her last night.” Miri taps Grandma’s arm and heads out of the room, up the stairs.

  “Okay, Grandma.” I tap my finger against the table, indicating the place beside me. It’s my way of saying join me. “Spill the beans.”

  “Very well, dear. If I must.” She moves to the table and takes a seat. Pats my hand.

  “I have this odd, fuzzy memory from last night, and I’m sure if it’s real or not.” I rub my head. “You didn’t really shove something down my throat, did you?”

  “I’m sorry.” She squeezes my hand. “I know that was uncomfortable for you, but it had to be done. It was a potent magick that cleanses your system. I fear your condition would have worsened had I not recognized the signs.”

  “The signs?” I say. “The signs seemed pretty on par with food poisoning.”

  “Yes, well. Similar in many ways. Different in a few others.” She leans toward me. “You somehow managed to ingest a
serious toxin. Do you have any idea where you might have picked up such a thing?”

  In a flash, I am recalling my time with Luna, the cocoa we never ordered, the men watching us, and our quick departure. It was mere minutes before my stomach began to feel like someone was digging deep into my gut with a trowel.

  “The bokor’s men, I think.” I frown. Drop my gaze to the table.

  “The bokor?” Grandma’s back stiffens. “What are you doing having any involvement with him? He should not be any part of your life.”

  “It’s not me, Grandma.” I raise my gaze to meet hers. “I think he has something on Luna’s dad. He sent his men after her, so maybe he’s trying to use her to get to her dad. I don’t rightly know yet.”

  “That sweet girl you brought here has the bokor after her?” She pulls her hands into her lap.

  “I believe so.” I fidget, rubbing my fingers across my thumb over and over.

  “That’s not good. That’s not good at all.” With a frown firmly in place, she pins a tight stare on me. “You might want to steer clear of her.”

  My mouth drops open, and my head jerks back. “What? Are you suggesting I abandon my friend in her time of need? I can’t do that.”

  “For no other reason than your own safety.’” She reaches for my hand, and I pull away.

  “I see I have upset you.” She stands and begins to pace. “But after all that has happened to this family, I do not believe I can withstand any more heartache or loss. So, I need you to be smart, and safe, and not take any reckless chances.”

  I feel like she is making reference to things beyond the events of two years ago. Things that have to do with my father. But I don’t care about him. He was never there for me, and I can’t share her pain over his loss.

  “I’ll try,” I say. “Smart is not always my default setting.” I shake my head and wipe the sweat from my brow.

  Her hand drops on my shoulder. “Your body is still healing. You should be resting. By late this evening, you should once again be right as rain.”