Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1)

by Teresa Rae

  I’m groggy when I start out the door for my walk. I make myself to put one foot in front of the other. I need the exercise – even if it takes all my will power not to go back to bed. I lament it is the weekend, and Clara has the day off. It is so much harder to walk without company. I’m completely caught off guard when I climb over a small hill and find Clara waving excitedly.

  “Becky Jo!” she runs to join me.

  “Clara, I didn’t know you work on Saturdays?” I say.

  “I have to work most days,” she replies.

  “Well, that is both awful and wonderful news,” I say. “It’s awful that you have to work so much, but it is wonderful that I will have company on my walks.”

  I get an extra-long walk to burn off the meal I ate the evening before. It seems as though Clara and I walk all over the state of Nevada, although it doesn’t feel that way. Clara is great company. She is so very interesting and hangs on my every word. She brings a surprising amount of sunshine to my life. Marina’s house comes back into view far too soon.

  “I hope I haven’t made you late for work,” I say, looking at my watch and finding it’s stopped working. I shake it uselessly. Stupid battery!

  She watches my insanity. “No, I’m not late. I will see you, tomorrow morning.” She begins to walk away.

  I stop shaking the watch. I don’t want her to go. A day spent by myself is a dismal prospect. “What time do you get off work? Marina’s out of town, and it would be great to have some company. We could watch a movie and order in a pizza,” I offer, holding my breath.

  Clara gazes at Marina’s house. “I don’t know…”

  “Come on, we’ll have a great time. I’ll even let you choose the movie,” I plead, hoping she doesn’t like westerns. I’ve seen more than enough sagebrush to last me a couple decades.

  She takes another glance at Marina’s house before sighing. “I suppose one evening wouldn’t hurt.”

  * * *

  “What kind of pizza do you want?” I ask, looking over a menu.

  “Order what you want. I ate at work,” Clara says, sitting next to me on the couch.

  I sigh unhappily and put away the menu. “In that case, I’ll just have what Sunny left me for dinner.” I go to the fridge and pull out a bowl of bland vegetable soup. I put it in the microwave. “How was work?”

  “Same old, same old,” she replies, glancing at one of Marina’s fashion magazines. “Did you get much studying done?”

  “I studied the whole day and don’t feel like I’ve learned anything. It’ll be a miracle if I pass the HSAP.” I sprinkle some seasonings into the bowl to improve Sunny’s soup and take a seat next to Clara.

  “You’ll learn the material,” she says.

  “I hope so, because Marina has got it into her head that I’m going to college.” I stuff a spoonful of the unsavory soup into my mouth. The sooner I get my meal over with, the better.

  “I always wanted to go to college,” Clara says, staring at a wall.

  I swallow my soup. “That’s a great idea! I’ll work really hard to pass my test, and we will go to college together. We can be roommates!”

  She shakes her head. “I have other responsibilities now.”

  “It’s never too late. Mama was a lot older than you when she went to school.”

  Clara changes the subject, “What movie are we going to watch?”

  “You choose.” I shiver as I grab a throw blanket and wrap it around my body. I pass one to her. “The furnace must not be working. Let’s put a movie in, and then we can snuggle up in blankets.”

  When we agree on a movie, I put it into Marina’s Blu-ray player and push play. Nothing happens. I push the button a second time. The lights flicker and go out, leaving us in darkness.

  “I guess we can forget about the movie,” I say. Rural Nevada is an inconvenient place to live.

  Clara opens her mouth to speak, but before she can the phone begins to ring.

  “I better get it.” I get to my feet, taking the blanket with me. “It’s probably Marina.”

  I answer the phone. “Hello?”

  The only answer is silence. I hang up. “Her cell phone probably cut out.”

  The phone rings a second time, but before I can answer, Clara picks it up.

  “Hello?” she says.

  I hear someone speaking on the other end, but their voice is too quiet for me to decipher the words.

  Clara frowns deeply before hanging up. “I have to go.” She folds her blanket.

  “Was that one of your parents?” I ask, sorry to see her leave.

  She doesn’t answer. “I’ll see you in the morning for our walk.” With that, she goes out the door.

  I watch her walk down the street, worried my friend is in trouble with her parents. At that precise moment, the lights turn back on and the furnace begins to hum. There’s no point in watching a movie by myself, so I decide just to study some more.

  A couple hours later, I’m still staring at a page I feel I’ve been staring at for an eternity. I shiver with mental exhaustion. It’s time to give up and go to bed. I push away from the desk and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. After the frightening experience the night before, I leave the light on before I literally fall into bed, saying a simple prayer for a good night’s sleep. I instantly fall asleep.

  I don’t know how long I’ve slept when I wake up in a panic. The room is dark, and my heart feels as though it’s going to beat right out of my chest. I try to sit up, but it’s impossible. I can’t move my muscles. It’s like my body has frozen into place. The realization of this brings on a panic attack. I suck in deep breaths of air as I fight against the invisible restraints. Strangely, my room smells like tobacco.

  It seems like hours later when I am finally able to move the pinkie on my left hand. The muscles in my left arm follow suit. I use my left arm to pick up my right, freeing it as well. I push myself into a sitting position, still unable to move my legs. I wipe sweat off my forehead before massaging my frozen legs. When they are freed from the paralysis, I jump out of the bed and sprint to the light switch. It is still in the on position. The light bulb has burned out.

  Heavy boots walk across the floor towards me.

  Repeating a familiar question, a voice demands, “Who are you?”

  I don’t bother to answer at all this time. I dash out the door, flipping on the light in the hallway. I sigh in relief, but I’ve celebrated prematurely. The footsteps just keep on coming.

  I run down the hall, flipping on lights as I go. The light bulbs explode overhead, showering glass down from above. I cover my head with my hands to protect myself.

  I trip on something hard in the living room. My violin! I quickly pick it up. Obviously this entity isn’t afraid of the light. How will it react to music?

  With shaking hands, I open my violin case and place my instrument under my chin. A loud, clear note pierces the gloom. The work boots cease their relentless forward march. I take this as my cue and begin playing Brahms.

  Unwilling to deal with the spirit, I play until the sky outside begins to lighten all the while knowing whatever was in my bedroom is still in the house. In fact, I don’t stop playing until the entity leaves. Then I collapse on the couch in exhaustion. I thought living in a new house would protect me from the ghosts in Virginia City but, as usual, I was wrong.

  * * *

  The house has seen better days. The shingles on the roof are warped and badly in need of replacement. Several of the top floor windows are broken. A front balcony is sagging and looks as though it will collapse at any moment. White paint has peeled off the walls, and it’s impossible to determine the original color of the wrap-around porch. The front steps are rotten and groan noisily as I walk up them. I lift a hand to knock on the door.

  “Becky Jo!” Sunny excitedly throws the door in a green muumuu. “I had a dream you were coming for a visit!”

  I put my hand down. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

  “Of course
not!” She happily wraps an arm around my body and directs me into the house. “It’s not every day I get visitors! Come in! Come in! I’m just about to pull some cookies out of the oven.”

  The inside of the house is in much better condition than the outside. The ceilings, walls, and floors have been painstakingly restored. I rub a hand down the banister of a spectacular staircase. Sunny has put an enormous amount of work into the house.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say in awe.

  “It will be when I’m finished.” Sunny directs me to the kitchen. “This summer I plan on working on the outside.”

  I take a seat at a tiny table. “Marina said you went to a retreat. How was it?”

  Her lazy eye looks to the left as she smiles excitedly. “I had a great time. I learned lots of new things. And it’s always nice to spend time with likeminded people.”

  “What exactly happens at these conventions?”

  “Witches’ conventions are like any other convention. We attend classes and make social connections.” She laughs with delight. “And then there are the parties!”

  I’m glad she had fun. Sunny is a nice woman who deserves time to let her hair down.

  “Do you have your eyes on any warlocks?” I tease.

  She rolls her right eye while the other still stares off into space. “We actually call them wizards, and I have more important things to do with my time than worry about some man.”

  The timer goes off, and Sunny pulls a tray of cookies out of the oven. She places a plate in front of me. I’m afraid it’s going to break when she drops one of her cookies on it. It looks like a hockey puck. I cautiously pick it up and try to take a bite out of it. It’s as hard as a hockey puck, too.

  Sunny sits across from me. “What can I do for you, Becky Jo? I know this isn’t just some social call.”

  I’m grateful to get right to the point so I get a break from the hockey puck. “Actually, I was wondering if you knew a way I could get the ghost in Marina’s house to leave me alone.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Which one?”

  This is more complicated than I realized. “I didn’t know there was more than one.”

  “There are so many ghosts in Virginia City it will be difficult to determine which ghost is bothering you. And it will be even more difficult to find out why the ghost is bothering you. You have to understand a ghost’s motivations before you can try and reason with them.”

  I sigh. “How am I supposed to figure out what they want when they’re haunting me?”

  “That’s the problem with ghosts – they’re complicated. They’re just like the living, problems and all, but they don’t have bodies or a way to communicate effectively.”

  Great. I’m being haunted, and there’s not much I can do about it.

  * * *

  “You will like the antique store,” Sunny excitedly says from the driver’s seat. “It’s full of amazing things. I just hope Jake has the door knob I need to finish the dining room.”

  “You’ve done an amazing job restoring that house,” I say as she parks outside the small building.

  “I only have two rooms finished. Well, almost three. I just need the door knob.”

  The antique store is a mishmash of decades and centuries past. I walk through the aisles of long-forgotten treasures, looking over old books, dishes, clocks, and even dolls. Sunny goes directly to the clerk with a photo in hand. I disappear into a side room while she describes her door knob to the man.

  I’m instantly surrounded by a rainbow of colors. Racks and racks of clothes fill the small room. Most of the clothing is less than fifty years old, but a few articles are at least a hundred. I appreciate these very old items through protective glass doors.

  A movement to my right attracts my attention. I look up to find a familiar face.

  “Clara, is this where you work?” I ask.

  “I’m here so much it feels like a second home,” she replies before smiling. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

  “I needed a break, so Sunny asked me to come shopping with her. She’s looking for a door knob.”

  “I’m glad you came. There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

  She directs me to a corner of the small room. I was so busy looking at clothing I didn’t notice the jewelry cabinet.

  “These are so cool,” I say. There are numerous pieces of large, gaudy costume jewelry from the fifties and sixties.

  Clara opens the cabinet and stretches her arm into the far bottom. She carefully removes a necklace and lifts it for me to see.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I say, running my finger across the chain.

  “It’s made of platinum, and the diamond pendant is a full karat. Yes, it’s beautiful, but it’s also special. The diamond is a very powerful talisman. It will protect you.” She passes the necklace to me.

  “I can’t afford something like this,” I object.

  “You can’t afford not to have something like this.” She takes the necklace and clasps it around my neck. “Just tell Jake that we made a deal, and I’m letting you have it for fifty dollars. That’s what we paid for it at an estate sale.”

  I shake my head.

  She stops me. “Becky Jo, you have been a true friend to me. Let me do this for you. Wear this necklace as a token of our friendship.”

  I am suddenly grateful I moved to Virginia City. Clara is the best friend I’ve ever had. “That’s very nice of you. I’m really glad you’re my friend.” I know it sounds a little sappy, but I mean every word.

  “Believe me when I tell you that I’m even happier I met you. You can visit me anytime at work. You are always more than welcome.” She smiles at me. “Also, the door knob Sunny is looking for is probably in the windowsill on the west side of the building.”

  When I walk into the main part of the store, Jake frowns at me.

  “Miss, you’re not supposed to get into the display case without assistance.” He steps forward to take the necklace away from me. “This is a very expensive necklace…”

  “Clara said I could have it for fifty dollars,” I repeat what I was told, hoping she won’t get in trouble. “Do you need to talk to her about it?”

  His face pales. “I-I’ll take your word for it,” he stutters.

  “Sunny, Clara said the door knob is probably in that windowsill.” I point to the west window.

  “Thank heavens!” She heaves herself to her feet and goes to the window, locating the rare doorknob. She shakes her head when she sees the price tag.

  Jake sees the gesture. “Any friends of Clara’s are friends of mine,” he quickly interjects. “I’ll let you have it for five bucks.”

  * * *

  Sunny is bubbling with joy as she turns the knob, over and over, in her hands. Finding the treasure was a huge triumph for her. “I still can’t believe I found one, and that necklace you bought is breathtaking.” She makes a weird gesture with her fingers. “Our friend Clara deserves a little luck.”

  “The clerk really acted strange when I brought her up,” I say, turning onto our street.

  “She’s probably the owner’s daughter.” Sunny gingerly puts her knob into her purse. She shakes her head at my necklace. “An employee would never give away a diamond like that for fifty dollars.”

  “Clara said it was a talisman and would protect me.”

  “Really?” Sunny’s eyes go to the necklace around my neck. “Did she say what kind?”

  I shake my head. “She just said it’s powerful.”

  Sunny touches my necklace and jumps as though she’s been shocked by electricity. She smiles as she rubs her fingertips. “It is very powerful! A talisman and my door knob; next time you walk with Clara, I’m sending her a bag of my special granola.”

  * * *

  Since I moved to Virginia City, the three guys have woken me up each morning at dawn. Because a scary ghost has been keeping me up playing the violin, I’m exhausted. So far, I’ve held my ton
gue, but my patience has dissolved. I come up with a plan to get the guys to be respectful without hurting their feelings. I need more sleep in the mornings if I’m going to be able to play the violin each and every night. Even fifteen minutes more would be great. The next morning, I’m waiting for them.

  When the guys walk by with Mr. Skinny singing Dixie, I say extremely loudly as they pass my window, “If you can hear me, I can hear you!”

  I’m confused when the singing doesn’t stop so I yell, “Be quiet!”

  The singing continues.

  I’m not normally a rude person, but I have to get more sleep and my head on right before I study for the HSAP. I’ve even talked Clara into walking in the evenings with me instead of the mornings. I need these guys to let me sleep.

  In frustration, I open my blinds and scream, “Shut up!” I know it’s not lady-like, but I’m tired of being awakened each day by the noisy trio.

  They act as if they’re deaf. They just walk by, not noticing my screams and hysterical waving.

  “Just go ahead and be a bunch of jerks!” I yell.

  They go to their field and begin digging.

  “What are you carrying on about in here?” Sunny walks into my room.

  “Those stupid guys woke me up, again!” I angrily shut my window.

  “For being from the city, you sure are bothered by some singing,” she teases.

  “It’s not so much the singing as it is waking up to the same song, over and over, again.” I put on a robe.

  “As least one good thing comes out of them waking you each morning,” she muses.

  “And what would that be?”

  “We can get an early start on the day.

  * * *

  That evening, after a night of little sleep and a strenuous day of studying, I wait in a bush outside the house after my walk with Clara. Since I’m not getting anywhere with the guys singing outside my window, I’ve decided to try to talk to the handsome one on his evening stroll. I definitely need more sleep and this may be the only way to get it. My heart starts beating really quickly when I hear the footsteps in the gravel. I’m suddenly freezing from the nerves of meeting him face-to-face. My body covers with goose-pimples