Bewitching Belle

by Debra Kristi

  “Sorry about that. I’m at a laundromat just outside of Westwego,” he says. “Someone put a noisy load in the dryer closest to me.”

  “Westwego?” I say, a mere whisper. “Why so far away?”

  “What are you doing all the way out there?” Luna asks, taking my lead. “Why not just have me call you at home?”

  “It’s safer this way. Chuks doesn’t generally come this far out so I have a better chance of keeping this conversation private.” He coughs. Clears his throat.

  My eyes widen and I stare at Luna. Afraid to take calls in your own home? His fears are conspiracy theory level, and I don’t know what to make of that.

  Is he crazy? Or does he have a legitimate reason to be fearful? I lean closer to the phone.

  “You don’t feel your home is safe?” Luna asks.

  “No. Not in the slightest. Chuks's influences are everywhere.”

  “Who’s Chuks?” Luna mouths. I respond with the word “bokor.” She nods. Returns her attention to Uncle Andy.

  “So, what?” she prompts. “Is he listening in on all your conversations? Has your house bugged?”

  “Very likely,” he says. “I suspect that’s what slammed your dad onto the hot seat.”

  “What?” Luna’s muscles tense. Her hand fists, tight. Draining her knuckles white.

  “That’s why I am so, so sorry,” her uncle says.

  “I got that,” she blurts. “But explain to me why you’re so sorry. What did you do? What do you know?”

  A heavy sigh sounds through the phone, and if there weren’t miles of wire between us, I suspect we’d be tasting alcohol in the air.

  “It’s because of me your dad got involved with Chuks in the first place. I got in debt with the Bokor and your dad stepped in to try and help me. Only, he ended up falling even deeper in debt with the man.” He pauses, takes a breath. “I never should have let him try to help. I should have taken the punishment. The punishment your dad ended up collecting on my behalf. I’m so sorry, Luna. I wish I could undo everything. Give you back your dad.”

  Luna remains silent. Munching on his words or her internal pain, I’m unsure.

  “Luna?” he pleads. “Say something, please.”

  “I need a moment to process this information.” Her voice is brash. “My life has been something akin to a living hell this last month, and I’ve just learned you are to blame for that. And over what? Money owed? Is was money, wasn’t it?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer. “You are rooted at the cause of my dad’s despondency, anger and isolation, subsequent death and zombification.”

  “Zombie?” he says, his tone tainted with incredulity. “What are you saying?”

  “And now the Bokor’s ugly curse has swallowed my mom and forced her into the hospital.”

  “I’m really sorry about your mom. I didn’t see that coming,” he says.

  “You’re sorry about a lot of things,” Luna blurts. I bite my lip and gaze at her. Her energy is throbbing, a strong, chaotic pulse of red rage. I wrap my hand over hers, and her mood mellows and her eyes soften.

  “I am. I really, truly am. But what is this about a zombie?” he asks.

  “Didn’t grandma and grandpa tell you?” He remains silent, waiting for Luna to continue. “The same men that buried my dad Saturday morning, dug him up that very night. I saw it. Saw him. And he’s a zombie.”

  “I had no idea. Oh.” It’s clear he moves the phone away from his mouth for a moment. Scratches and scuffs fill the void. “Oh no. I wish I could undo it all and return your life back to the way it was. I’m so sorry, little Luna.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she blurts. “You don’t have the right to call me that anymore.”

  “What can I do to try and make things right?” he says.

  I sit back and silently gesture to Luna. There are things he may be able to help us with, and, if playing on his guilt helps us obtain the necessary information, I’m not above taking that tiny win.

  “You can never make it right,” Luna says. My shoulders drop into a slouch, and a frown pulls at my face. Is she so mad at him that she can’t even bring herself to use him to get what we want? What we need?

  “You’ll be trying for the rest of your days,” she continues. “I’m going to go after the bokor. I’m going to defeat him and restore my parents. You are going to help me do that.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know when I do.” Luna frowns and I sense the emotion runs deeper than the flesh.

  “How?” he asks again.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.” She straightens. “I know. I’ll call your house, and tell you I hate you. When you get that message, you’ll know it’s time to get to a safe phone and call me back.” He doesn’t argue with the chosen message method, or Luna’s choice of signal words. He simply agrees and takes down my grandma’s phone number.

  “You know what else you could do?” she continues.

  “Tell me. Anything.”

  “Tell me everything you know about a living person being able to control or possess another human being.” She glances at me and shrugs.

  Here we go, diving into the help-my-mom territory.

  “There’s not much to tell, really,” Uncle Andy says. “It takes a powerful person to possess or control another, especially when they are still mentally coherent.”

  “Not a zombie,” Luna clarifies.

  “Not a zombie,” he confirms. “Generally speaking, I would say it takes someone on the level of a voodoo priest or priestess, possibly a bokor. Of course, there are some who practice in private and don’t share the full strength of their power with the outside world. Are you asking about a particular incident?”

  “Maybe.” Luna’s response is blunt.

  “Well, in any case. In order to open the recipient to their control, possible possession, the individual targeted has to give their consent,” he says.

  “Who would do that?” Luna and I both belt. I throw my hand over my mouth in an attempt to hold back any further reactions.

  Uncle Andy is quiet for a moment or two. I’m guessing my addition to the conversation didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Anyone attempting such a powerful magick,” he whispers, “is likely already a master manipulator. They are going to get the consent they wish through an unsuspected line of questions. The target is rarely aware of what they are giving away.”

  “And how do we break their control?” she asks.

  “You don’t.” His response is quick. Short.

  “There must be a way? Something. Somehow,” she says.

  “Sure.”

  Luna and I fall silent and the air becomes heavy with our held breaths.

  “You kill the source.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kill the source. Kill Caleb.

  That’s not going to happen. Caleb is locked up. Doing time in the pen. He even managed to get himself tossed into solitary confinement. Nobody’s getting to him in there.

  Plus, murder is all kinds of wrong.

  Luna cuts the conversation with her uncle to a sharp end, dropping the receiver into the cradle.

  “Well, that’s a bust,” I blurt and slouch in my chair.

  “Really?” she asks. “There isn’t anything we can do?”

  “Are you suggesting we kill a man?” I yank the scrunchy from my hair, allowing my kinky curls to explode in all directions. With a sense of defeat, I toss the scrunchy to the table.

  “We could use magick,” she says.

  “Be it by magick or other means, it’s still murder, and I’m not down with that.” I spin the hair scrunchy around my finger. “That would likely forever taint your soul, not to mention all the dark magick it would require. Dabbling in such forces might actually eat your soul.”

  “You’re right.” She drops her arms on the table and slides into a slump, like me.

  “There has to be some sort of answer we are missing,” I say. “I refus
e to believe that my mom is forever stuck in Caleb’s control.”

  “Meow.” Bastian rubs against my ankle.

  “Hey there, pretty boy.” I reach down and rub the fur along the cat’s back. “Do you have the answers to our predicament?”

  “Meow.”

  “Clearly he does. Maybe we should put him in charge,” Luna says, a smile attempting to crack through her frustrated façade.

  Pulling Bastian into my embrace, I cuddle him like a baby, rubbing his head and the space behind his ears.

  “Would you mind if I called the hospital really quick and checked up on my mom?” Luna rests her hand on the phone, anticipating my response.

  “Go right ahead.” I step away from the table and carry Bastian into the front room with me, giving Luna some privacy for the call.

  I settle into the fluff of the sofa. Place Bastian on the cushion in front of me. He wastes no time jumping to the floor, out of my reach. He meows and dashes for the other room.

  The favor of a cat is short lived. I reach for the television remote.

  Bastian appears before me and meows.

  I set down the remote and scrutinize the cat. “What?” I say.

  He dashes out of view.

  I wait. Don’t move. He reappears again. Meows.

  “Alright.” I get up and follow him.

  Bastian leads me to the staircase, glancing back every few moments to confirm I am following. I am. He leads us upstairs and across the landing where he takes a seat in front of the door to my old bedroom.

  “Sorry, buddy.” I crouch and pet his fluffy fur. “That room is off limits to you.”

  “Meow.” He paces back and forth across the blocked entry, rubbing his side against the door with each turn.

  “Why isn’t he allowed in that room?”

  I stand and spin. Smile at Luna. “Because my mom’s in there, and the silly guy takes issue with her. Starts hissing and growling.”

  “Probably senses the control she is under.”

  I agree with a hard nod. Luna gazes at the closed door, then drops her sights to the cat at my feet. “It’s awfully quiet in there.”

  “Grandma’s sound-proofing spell.”

  “Did someone call me?” Grandma steps clear of her bedroom.

  “Just explaining the spell you cast on the room.” I jab a pointed thumb over my shoulder, indicating the door at my back.

  “Right. Right. That magick you’ve asked me to stop performing.” She pauses her walk at the top of the stairs.

  “Only because it appeared to be hurting you. You have to know that I would never request such a thing under any other circumstances.” I weave my fingers together.

  “Now you know how I feel,” she says. “Wanting to keep my loved ones safe.”

  Right. I drop my head.

  “I talked to your school earlier this morning.”

  My head pops up at the mention of school. It’s Monday and if my life were normal and my mom wasn’t currently possessed, I’d be in Algiers, attending school.

  “We can swing by there today and pick up a take-home packet with all the work your classes are doing while you are away.”

  “Really? I have to keep doing my schoolwork? What if the world was ending?” I pout.

  “Well…” She takes the first step down and pauses. “It’s not and you do. Get ready, we’ll head over shortly.”

  I frown, then burst with realization. “It’s Monday,” I exclaim.

  “That it is,” she says.

  “Can we go closer to the end of the school day to collect the packet?” I ask. “I usually meet with my coven on Mondays. If we go a bit later, I can still do that.”

  “And I suppose you’d want to spend time with your coven before returning here?” She raises a brow with her question.

  “It goes without saying…” I grin.

  “That would have us returning after dark,” she says. “And I don’t drive after dark.”

  My lips torque into a twisted frown, and I contemplate the dilemma presented. “Can’t you drop us off and Miri or Michael bring us back?”

  “Possibly.” She sighs. “I’ll have to check with them to see what can be done.”

  I thank my grandma profusely. She checks with my siblings. And after a slight schedule rearrangement, a deal is struck.

  Around one thirty, Luna and I jump into the car with Grandma, and we head for my school in Algiers. The car radio plays a news station as we amble toward the river.

  “Two children in two weeks have gone missing,” the newscaster reports. “No sign of foul play. No signs at all.” She pleads with listeners to report anything they may have seen or heard. Anything at all.

  Grandma turns off the radio. “That’s enough depressing information for one day.” She glances in the rearview mirror at us in the back, pins her attention on Luna. “How’s your mother doing, dear? I heard you called the hospital to check in.”

  “She’s resting,” Luna says, repeating to my grandma what she told me almost immediately following the call. “She finished receiving her blood transfusion early this morning, and she’s been sleeping a lot. They told me to expect that. But so far, her numbers have improved, and she appears to be on the mend.”

  “Good news,” Grandma says. “Very good news, indeed.” She pulls into the school parking lot. The dismissal bell is due to ring in ten minutes.

  “Let’s hurry.” I jump out of the car and rush my grandmother, and Luna, to the administration office.

  I’m forced to go through the niceties; questions about my mom and my return date, before I can collect my packet. I answer them all to the best of my ability and then dash back out to the parking lot, prop myself against the side of the car. Wait for James and Jeanna to get released from class.

  “School gets out in a few minutes,” I say to my grandma. “Let me just make sure James is cool with Luna and me hanging out and getting picked up later. If all is good, then you can go.”

  Grandma agrees and decides to wait while sitting comfortably in the car. Luna bumps up next to me, rests her head against my shoulder. Hangs out and watches the front of the school. I press my hand against the slope of the trunk, and she does the same, our pinkie fingers touching. The bell rings, and in a matter of minutes, the front walk and parking spills over with fleeing students.

  When James and Jeanna exit the cement day-hold it takes them all of four seconds to spot Luna and me waiting, supported by Grandma’s car at our backs.

  “You’re here!” Jeanna dashes around and past kids and cars, straight for us. “Does this mean you are going to attend our Monday meetup?”

  I nod, and a gleeful dance bounds in my chest. Luna casts me a sideways smile, her hair spilling across half of her face in the process.

  “Blessed be the heavenly gods above,” James says, throwing his arms wide. “Your presence is a most beautiful delight.” He drops his books into a hold at his front, and comes to a pause before me. “So…” He appraises both Luna and me. “What’s happening, witches?” His gaze narrows on the barely there touch of our hands.

  “New developments on a daily basis.” I rub my pinkie along the side of Luna’s finger. “I’m hoping we can rehash what we already know, and discuss a few new tidbits?”

  “That’s what our meetups are for.” He glances up at the overcast sky. “We’ll sip some thought-provoking tea and ponder the current climate.” When he says climate, he isn’t talking about the weather.

  A later pickup is approved, and my grandma heads home, while the four of us—James, Jeanna, Luna, and I—make the walk to James’s house.

  “We need to figure out a way to look into the past,” I say, looking both ways before crossing the street. “Specifically, at interactions between my mom and Caleb.”

  “We need to figure out where she unknowingly gave him permission to possess her like he is now,” Luna adds.

  “That would require mirror magick,” James says.

  “Oh!” Jeanna jumps and side
skips forward, her attention directed at us. “The mirror in your mom’s room, did it use to hang in the room she once shared with him?”

  “Of course not. The entire house burned down.” My feet stop carrying me forward, and I recall the short list of items that actually survived the wreckage. The mirror—surprisingly enough—was one of those items. Falling witches! “I can’t believe I am going to say this but, you’re right. It did.”

  “What is she right about?” Luna swings her gaze between me and Jeanna.

  “Private spaces, such as a boudoir, are more likely to capture the energy exchange of spell groundwork someone wanted to keep secret.” James flairs his hands through the air in a theatrical delivery.

  “We need the mirror,” I say, believing… hoping… it captured whatever trickery Caleb used to ensnare my mom.

  “Yes.” Jeanna punches the sky, and excitement for having moved our quest further explodes from her over joyous expression.

  We make a detour to my house and collect my mom’s mirror. Thankfully, it isn’t a large mirror, and it’s rather easy to manage along the continued walk to James’s place.

  Once we get to James’s, he makes tea to help balance and focus our thoughts, and we dive straight into discussion of Luna’s parents, the bokor, and Caleb’s hold on my mom.

  There are four of us, and Luna will pull her uncle into the fight against the bokor… as she advised him the other day. I’ll recruit Michael, and James will get his brother John to join our cause. That’s the combined power of seven. Using the element of surprise and the power of seven on our side, we start drafting a plan to defeat Chuks the bokor, and free Luna’s parents.

  One afternoon is not enough time to determine a plan. There is information to be gathered, books to be referenced, people with whom we must confer. Deciding we will check in each day this week and compare notes, update information, and further our planning, we set the bokor issue aside… for now… and focus on my mom and Caleb.

  The mirror is set in the center of the table where we all have a clear view of the reflective surface.

  “Does anyone here have any experience with mirror magick?” Luna asks. James and Jeanna exchange a yeah-no glance.