"Well, I'm sure y'know what yer doin', dear, but it seems unfinished, it does. Blessyerimpetuous'eart, y'should embellish a bit on exactly what the girl did t'this Reggie, y'should."
"It means the little tart was intimate with Reggie, Ruth," Martin said, his eyes rolling in Sara's direction. "Evidently Jessica hasn't stepped out of the closet yet, either."
"Out of the closet, dear?" Ruth queried.
"Forget it! Jessica is so screwed!" Sara laughed.
Martin let out a long breath. "You do know that Gran is gonna zero right in on us when Toni asks her what a necromancer is."
"She is so not! I can't talk to Toni, and she knows it!"
"Blessyeradolescence, dear, what if yer sister shows 'er the diary? I'm thinkin' a bit o'embellishment in that area is a-"
"Are we sure we want to do this?" Martin paced, fanning his hands in front of his chest.
Rufus sounded like a rumbling storm cloud.
"Oh, hell yes! Let's see if Gran can wiggle out of this one," Sara said, clapping translucent hands that made no sound. "We only have eight days until Toni turns eighteen. We have to do something!"
"I just want to go on record as saying; I am not likin' this whole idea of yours," Martin chided. "And can you puh-leease get the diary back in the drawer before the Wicked Witch of the West walks in?"
"'Bless'erMitralValveprolapsed'eart', we wouldn't want 'er t'find it before yer sister asks the dreaded question, we wouldn't."
"She won't," Sara said. "Piece-a-cake."
"Would that be another ill-used phrase, dear?"
"Watch and learn," Sara said, lifting her arms, eyes concentrating on the diary as it hovered over the bed, gliding toward the drawer.
Rufus sauntered over to the door, scratched the wood with both paws, and meowed.
Chapter Nineteen
Toni walked into her bedroom, Rufus meowing at her heels. She laid her duffle bag on the bed and pulled out the three YA novels the librarian had suggested when she'd queried about lesbian protagonists.
The trip to the gym had given Toni more questions about the choices her sister had made, which only added to her confusion about her own sexuality.
Rufus pounced on the bed and began to purr as he rubbed his face and side across Toni's stomach, his tail flitting. She lifted Annie on My Mind, by Nancy Garden, and unconsciously ran her fingers over the cat's back while her eyes played over the cover with two girls holding hands, their foreheads pressed together.
Toni took in a deep breath, set the novel down, and picked up a bright pink one, Sugar Rush, by Julie Burchill. Rufus hiked up his backside under her fingernails as she scratched just in front of his tail. He purred his approval as Toni read:
But then Kim meets gorgeous Maria (better known as Sugar) Sweet, queen of the 'Ravers', and falls instantly under her spell. Leaving her restrained, good-girl past far behind . . .
Toni ran her hand over Rufus's back and down his tail until she ran out of cat. "Sounds like Sara, doesn't it fella?"
Rufus meowed as if in agreement. Toni tossed the book down and picked up the third one, Keeping You a Secret, by Julie Anne Peters, and flipped it over, reading the back. First time I saw her was in the mirror on my locker . . .
. . . glimpse of her T-shirt . . . IMRU?
Toni felt a rush of adrenalin and her arms got goose bumps. She laid down the book but couldn't take her eyes off the cover. The girl looked like Sara.
"What am I getting myself into, Rufus?" she asked, rubbing her arms.
Rufus eyed her as though he was contemplating an answer.
She picked up Sugar Rush, stuffed the other two in the duffle, zipped it up, pulled it off the bed, and tossed it into her closet.
Toni laid the book on her bedside table and pulled off her clothes, tossing them on the floor as she headed for the bathroom. She turned on the water in the tub and poured in some rose scented bubbles.
Rufus watched her every move.
Blushing, Toni covered her breasts as she sunk into the water. Great, now I'm uncomfortable around a cat. I'm hopeless. She playfully splashed Rufus as he hung over the tub, and instead of jumping back the cat sneezed, and then licked the water off his paws.
"You're so silly. Get down before you fall in the water," Toni giggled as Rufus nimbly padded along the tub's edge, avoiding her shooing fingers.
Rufus batted at the bubbles, shook his paw, and meowed over and over again, until she finally got out of the tub, toweled dry and then dressed in a long nightshirt. She climbed onto the bed and the cat curled up beside her.
Toni pulled out her diary and pen, flipped it to the last page and stared at the messy words written under her last entry: 'Jessica did Reggie. Ask Gran what a necromancer is!'
What the heck? When did I write this? It looks scribbled. Maybe I was sleep writing. But where did the word necromancer come from? And, Jessica did Reggie? Boy, is my mind wandering. Could someone else have written it? Yeah, right? Who? Gran? Mom? Nope, it was me. I'm losing it.
Rufus tried to hop on the diary, breaking her thoughts. Toni eyed the laptop sitting on her desk. She slid the diary into the drawer, got up and headed for the computer.
Rufus jumped off the bed and ran in between her legs, rubbing against her shins. Toni staggered and jumped over the cat. "Rufus, you're gonna get stepped on," she giggled as she fired up the laptop.
The cat leapt up, landed gracefully on the desk near the laptop, and swatted the lid shut.
"Are you smiling at me, you little stinker? You are!" Toni laughed at the cat's antics, ruffled the fur on his head, and then pulled him onto her lap as she sat on the chair in front of her desk. She opened the laptop, typed necromancer in the search field, and clicked the go button.
Rufus vibrated against her stomach, kneading his claws on her nightshirt. Toni yelped, "Rufus! That hurts!" She slapped at his paws; and, when he quit digging, she rubbed his neck as she waited.
Wikipedia popped up first in a long line of sites. She clicked on it and began to read, "A form of magic . . . "
Rufus hissed, jumped from her lap, and began to claw at the bedroom door.
Toni kept her eyes on the screen and absentmindedly got up and opened the bedroom door long enough for Rufus to scamper out before she closed it.
Returning to the computer, she read, "A form of magic in which the practitioner seeks to summon spirits? Huh." . . . spiritual protection and wisdom? Black magic? Demon summoning? Creatures raised . . . unnatural . . . decay? Shamanism? "Calls on spirits such as the ghosts of ancestors in order to gain insight? Huh?" I know Gran believes in ghosts. But surely there's no such thing. I mean . . . could this be possible? Why would I write necromancer in my diary? Did Gran?
Toni hovered the mouse over several sites, reading the description under each. "Game sites . . . Amazon . . . Books, books, and more books . . . Warcraft? A game?" Toni took a deep breath and turned off the computer, shaking her head. Sounds like a bunch of crap to me. So why did I write it? And if I didn't, who did?
A knock on the door announced Gran just before she stepped into the room, Rufus behind her.
"Did you have a good time at the gym?" Gran asked, her eyes jumping from the laptop to Toni before she picked up Rufus.
"I sure did, but I think I'm gonna be sore tomorrow." Toni laughed. "I got a good workout though, and I can't wait until Wednesday. I'm going to start going three times a week. Mom said she'd pay for the membership." Should I ask her about the diary entry?
Toni did not see Sara waft through the bedroom wall over the dresser, followed by Ruth and Martin.
Antoinette ignored the ghosts, her attention on Toni. "I hope you didn't put too much into it your first time."
Rufus wiggled out of Antoinette's arms, landed in front of Sara, sat primly, and stared up at her. Sara growled at the cat.
"It'll be all right, Gran," Toni said with a quizzical expression as she watched Rufus staring up at the dresser. "I took a hot bath and now I'm whipped. I thought I'd read and go
to bed early." Ask her. What are you afraid of?
"Paul called," Gran stated, her eyes jumping from Toni's perplexed expression to Rufus hissing at the dresser. "I think he wants to take you to the bookstore tomorrow."
"Can't you ever let up?" Sara asked. "I mean you have more than a week left before-"
"Oh Gran, I think I just want to put that off for a while. I really don't want to start up a relationship so soon after... Sara's death." I've got too many things on my mind. I need to stop Jessica. And I want to meet Reggie. I need to know what you have to do with a necromancer.
"See! She doesn't want to, Gran!" Sara said. Rufus leapt on the dresser, batting his paw through her ghostly form. Sara yelped and swatted at the cat.
Antoinette picked up Rufus, walked over to the door, opened it, and set Rufus in the hall. He meowed and tried to get back in as she closed the door in front of him.
Ruth took the opportunity to toss a jab for her own cause, namely the summoning of Martin's past blunder. "Now, now, dear, I'm thinkin' some acquaintance is necessary, bless'erlittlevirginsoul, I wouldn't think she'd be jumpin' at the bit ta-"
"Will you give it up!" Martin snapped. Ruth glared at him.
"Well, after all, it's what Gran wants, dear," Ruth said, staring pointedly at Sara.
"And it's so not going to happen!" Sara yelled.
Antoinette ignored them. "I think Paul is just what you need, sweetie."
"Maybe next week. I want to concentrate on working out and getting to know my new friend better." Toni blushed.
"Oh look, she's blushing—young love—how sweet," Martin quipped.
"What new friend?" Sara said. "Tell me she wasn't at the gym with Reggie!"
Antoinette shot Sara a smile. "That would be Paul's sister?"
"Yeah, she's really something," Toni said. "She makes me laugh and she knows a lot about Sara." And I don't think Sara's death was an accident, Gran. I think she killed herself because of what Jessica did. And I mean to find out the truth. If I could only talk to my sister. Toni studied Antoinette. Can you really see ghosts Gran? Can you see Sara?
"Shit! Same thing!" Sara buzzed around Antoinette. "She's sure to meet Reggie if she hangs with Paddy! And she's gonna see the video! Stop her, Gran!"
"Perhaps you should turn the conversation around to Paul," Antoinette said, patting Toni's leg. "I'm sure Paddy would love to talk about her brother."
"I want to know why Sara killed herself," Toni whispered. "I want to know who she really was." Can you talk to her, Gran? Oh this is stupid. Of course she can't. There's no such thing as ghosts, or necromancers. It's fantasy.
"Great! Why won't anyone listen to me?" Sara whipped around Antoinette in a disconnected mass of pink smoke. "I'm tellin' ya, if you want her and Paul to hook up-"
"I hear ya, dear." Ruth turned the knife. "But Gran knows best, she does."
Ruth and Martin exchanged a look with undertones of perceived disagreement.
"I know, sweetie. But maybe there is no 'why'," Antoinette said, "and if you surround yourself with sadness, well, it's not good for you, honey. Paul is such a nice boy. He has a good future, and he adores you."
Sara's form turned frosty. "Ya mean Bartholomew has a good future. Paul's just the how to guy."
"It just doesn't feel right, Gran," Toni said, unaware she nipped her sister's words. She shivered, rubbing her arms while looking into her grandmother's eyes. "Did the temperature drop or is it just me?'
"You bet your ass it did!" Sara huffed smoky icicles.
"Oh, look, she has another talent," Martin wisecracked. "Can you blow rancid smells too, honey?"
Clearly brewing anger, Antoinette calmly, slowly said, "I know you're grieving for your sister, but you need to try to continue with your own life, sweetheart. I know it's hard with Sara gone, it's hard for all of us."
"I am so not gone!" Sara snapped. "And this is all about you, Gran, and the friggin' necromancer thing. What about her? Doesn't anybody care about her? Were we just conceived to keep your legacy alive? I'm so sick of this shit!"
"We all care about 'er, we do." Ruth just wouldn't let up. Martin shot her a look that could've melted ice.
"Gran, do you know what a necromancer is?" There, I've asked.
Ruth gasped. Sara grinned. Martin whipped his head in Antoinette's direction and giggled nervously.
Antoinette smiled as Toni lowered her head, then turned angry eyes loose on the three ghosts.
Sara hiccupped a puff of smoke. "We'll just give you two some privacy, K? See ya." She wiggled her fingers as she backed through the wall over the mirror.
Martin and Ruth, by dints of flapping their arms and legs, loped through after her.
Chapter Twenty
Upstairs in the Farrell house, later that night, shadows flickered off the walls. A soft breeze floated in through the guestroom window, tickling the flames on the black candles burning on small metal trays around the room. Small tendrils of smoke circled up from several sticks of incense, filling the evening air with the aroma of Frankincense.
Antoinette closed the spell book in her lap and smiled at the circle of salt drawn on the planks of the pine floor in front of the rocking chair where she sat.
Rufus, curled on the floor by her feet, hooded his eyes when a small vortex opened within the circle. A gust of wind made the candles whisper with threats of quenching until Sara, Ruth, and Martin were sucked up through the floor and the vortex closed.
Rufus got up and sauntered around the circle of salt, an almost human smile on his face.
Antoinette studied the three ghosts. "I warned you, Sara. I'm afraid you've pushed me a little too far this time."
Sara pulled herself into a standing position, glaring at the cat. "What the heck are you talking about?" she asked, jerking a smoke trail behind her head as she whipped it in Antoinette's direction. "And I don't appreciate being dragged into this damn circle again!"
Rufus sat facing Sara and made a wheezing, hiccupping kind of noise.
"Is he laughing at me?" Sara blurted, pointing at Rufus.
"Blessyerangrylittle'eart, I'm thinkin' y'should be quiet a moment, dear. This isn't the time fer yer temper t'get the best o'ya, it isn't. Yer Granny seems quite beside 'erself, she does." Ruth hiked up her ample frame to stand beside Sara.
Rufus did the hiccupping thing again.
"I don't give a shit!" Sara yelled, and then hissed at the cat.
Martin rose in a puff of smoke, fangs hanging from a translucent snarl. "I just want to say, I had nothing to do with any of this, so if you don't mind, I'll just excuse myself." He retracted his fangs, bolted toward the open window, and ricocheted off the walls of the shield three times, sending Ruth into a dither, before landing in a heap of disconnected smoke on the floor. He shook himself together, glared at Sara, and spat, "Swell! You little pepper pot! I told you this was a bad idea!"
The cat rolled on the floor, tummy convulsing, paws paddling in the air.
Sara kicked at the shield in front of Rufus. "Come on! Give it up why don'tcha!"
"And yet neither of you did anything to stop her," Antoinette chided.
"You ever try to stop her when she has her mind set?" Martin asked all animated hands and arms, a finger dancing in Sara's direction. "I made the suggestion, she merely tossed it aside."
"Yes, well, that she did, dear. In fact, she's tossed several o' our suggestions." Ruth gave Sara an 'I told you so' glance and turned to Martin. "But blessyerspiritshreddin'eart, that's no reason t'abandon ship, it isn't. I'd like t'point out, dear, that we're in this together, we are, no matter one o'us 'as nary a brain in 'er pubescent 'ead."
Sara growled at both of them. "Don't either of you know how to shut the hell up? I mean, you didn't even give me a chance to explain!"
Gran smirked at Sara. "You can't explain this away, Sara."
"I just wanted Toni to get Jessica to-"
Antoinette raised her hand, pointing a rigid finger at Sara. "I know perfectly well what you were
trying to accomplish. And I've taken care of it . . . this time. Toni thought she had written the entry herself after a bad dream. I encouraged that by explaining a necromancer is someone capable of talking to spirits. Namely you. Since Toni is searching for reasons for your death, it made sense to her. But if your little stunt comes back to haunt me when she receives the gift, you will all pay dearly. I'm sure you remember our little agreement?"
Rufus, his head held in an air of dignity, raised one brow, and grinned at them.
"Oh please, not the cat. I hate cats," Martin whined.
"Go on! Like that's gonna happen!" Sara said, matter-of-factly. "Bartholomew's inside of Rufus; there isn't room enough for all of us in there."
"Y'are fergetten' the other place yer Gran mentioned, y'are," Ruth reminded her, with a bit of trepidation.
Rufus purred like gravel under a car's tires.
Martin exchanged a horrified look with Ruth, and the air in the room suddenly took on an atmosphere crowded with their dread.
"What other place?" Sara asked, "I don't remember any other place."
"Godblessyerselective'earin', I'm sure yer Gran is about t'enlighten' ya, she is."
Antoinette pulled a red ribbon protruding from the bottom of the book, opening it to a pre-selected page. "That I am, Ruth, and bless your intrusive souls, I believe in a few days all of you will be thinking twice about crossing me again."
"Oh, honey," Martin shook his head, his eyes as big as saucers, "I'm already there—always have been. Can I be excused, please?"
"Why are you such a suck up?" Sara huffed.
"Your blond—and I use the word loosely—mentality is about to get a very rude, and very ugly, wake up call," Martin mocked.
"I don't see what you two are freakin' out about," Sara said.
"Blessyerinterferin'little'eart, y'are not going t'like this, dear." Ruth shuddered.
Rufus began to wheeze and hiccup again, lost control of his leg muscles, fell to the floor, his paws rubbing his tearing eyes.
Antoinette smiled and began to chant:
"Demon spirit; guard of demented souls.
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