by E. M. Moore
Mr. Connors’ fingertips curled on the arm of the chair, the fabric gathering beneath him. “An S?”
“No. A lightning bolt with a circle around it.”
“I can’t say—”
The front door creaked as it swung open on its hinges. Mr. Connors stopped mid-sentence. Footsteps plotted a course for the living room and Drake moved into view, his back facing me as he walked up to his grandfather and kissed his forehead.
“Did you have a good time at the fair?”
“Hey Pops. Yeah everything was good.” He squeezed the older man’s hand.
Mr. Connors motioned to me. “Don’t be rude. Say hello to your friend.”
Drake turned and his face immediately fell. “What are you doing here?”
“I—”
“Now you calm down boy, you hear? This nice young lady came over here looking for you. Which you should be grateful for by the way. She’s quite pretty. And she’s had to sit here and listen to the ramblings of an old man while you sat around causing a raucous with your friends.”
Drake turned and smiled at his grandfather. “A raucous, Pops?”
The old man hacked and laughed again. Drake stood over him, hovering while Mr. Connors tried to wave him away. The episode didn’t last very long and I found myself laughing at the sight of the two of them.
“What?” Drake asked.
“She’s laughing at you. You act like I’m a piece of fine porcelain china. Didn’t I tell you? You aren’t getting spit when I die. There’s nothing to give.” He winked at me. “So why do you keep trying to ensure your trust fund?”
Drake walked away and plopped down next to me, my shoulders still heaved with silent giggles. “So you finally met her, huh Grandpa?”
“Yes, and she’s a heck of a lot prettier than you made her out to be.”
Drake chose to ignore him and stared at me with wide eyes. “Did you guys talk?”
I reached out and put my hand on Drake’s leg and nodded.
Drake’s grandfather said, “I guess that’s what two human beings do with each other when their mouths open and sounds come out."
Drake shook his head. “I love you, Pops.”
“I love you too, Drake. Now don’t sit around here wasting time talking to an old man, take her out.” He winked at me and grabbed a remote from the table beside him and turned on the television sitting in the back corner of the room. When Drake didn’t move, he wiggled his fingers at him, spurring us into motion.
Drake laughed and helped me to my feet.
“He’s great,” I said.
Passing once again through the house, seeing all the relics and family heirlooms, I realized something. Things are just things unless they’re attached to people. This whole house was filled with history. What ultimately mattered though, was people like Drake's grandfather. They had history all bound up in them. They practically lived it. They knew the stories, we didn’t.
If I had to be completely honest with myself, I’d realize Drake and his grandfather went through a hell of a lot more than me. Drake lost both his parents and his grandmother already. Yeah, so I lost my dad. Big deal. I didn’t even know him. Right now, he was just some spot on my family tree. That didn’t mean I couldn’t mourn him and shouldn’t mourn him. It didn’t even mean I couldn’t feel bad about not knowing him, but what really mattered?
Drake opened the door and I peered outside. Jennie was gone. She probably freaked when Drake pulled in and decided to hoof it.
“Yeah. I told you he was pretty great.”
“I never meant to say he wasn’t. I just had to know.”
“I get that. Well, I get that now.” He pointed back inside the house. “He made me see it.”
“He’s a smart man.”
He stopped me as we stepped off the porch steps. “So where’s Jennie?”
I pointed to the SUV. “She was there.”
Drake looked over. “She wasn’t when I pulled in.”
“I don’t know. I left her there when I went in the house. I figured you would never forgive me if both of us went in to talk to your grandfather.”
He kicked at the pebble-strewn driveway. “I’m sorry we fought.”
I took a step toward him. “Yeah, me too.”
“I don’t think you should be seeing Jennie,” he said as I slid my arms around him, resting them on his shoulder blades.
“Why?”
“Because Courtney said she’s not a good witch.”
I stared back at him, eyes a blinking cursor on a computer screen.
“I mean literally, she’s not a good witch. She does black magic.”
“Funny. That’s what Jennie says about Courtney and her little coven.”
He looped his hands around my hips. “I grew up with Courtney and those guys. They don’t do that kind of stuff.”
“Animal sacrifices?”
“Animal sacrifices? Ha. That’s a good one. I think Jennie’s watched too many scary movies.”
“I don’t know, Drake. Things aren’t adding up.”
“You’re still worried about the symbol?”
“Yes. Jennie thinks my life is in danger. Your grandpa said he didn’t kill my dad, he was already dead. I don’t believe that heart attack crap. He was young."
Drake nodded. “I admit, it’s weird. But just weird, not life threateningly weird.”
“Will you help me figure out what’s going on then?”
“Help you figure out who the crazy person is? In the town that I love? Yeah. Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“I see where you get your humor now. And thanks, for saying you’ll help.”
***
We couldn’t agree on a suspect list as we sat in a far corner booth in the worst diner in town. Drake thought it would be the best place to meet because no one would be there to overhear our conversation.
I wrote down names and Drake went through and crossed them off, relying on his true detective skills. “Please, I was in Kindergarten with her” and “Boy Scouts with this one.” The one he crossed out until you couldn’t see the loops of my writing underneath it, was Rose.
“No way.”
“Jennie thinks she’s a witch.”
Drake scribbled down Jennie’s name at the top of the list. “For starters, her name goes here. No way is Rose a witch. You have no idea who she even is. You just met her. You have no idea who all of these people are,” he said, scanning his finger down the list.
“Maybe that’s why I can see them more objectively.” I folded up the paper and put it in my pocket.
Drake took a bite of his burger and then let the processed meat drop back on his plate. His face mashed together as he chewed. “Abigail’s is so much better.”
“Spies can’t afford to be seen.” A light bulb went off in my head like a corny cartoon. “…Oh my god, I’ve got it. We’ll spy on a Wiccan meeting. That’s how we’ll find out who’s bad and who isn’t.”
He smirked. “Who wants to kill you and who doesn’t?”
“Exactly.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Isabella
1639
“Don’t do this to me John!”
A cry from the closed goal door carried through the wood and down into the dark interior. The door banged open and a bundle bounced off the stairs and rolled down, ending in a contorted heap at the bottom.
The judge stuck his head in and stared straight at his son. “Get away from her.”
Thomas shuffled away from Isabella and pointed at the tangle of clothing. “Who is that?”
Mr. Ludington’s chin rose in the air. “Mrs. Shipton.”
“But you—”
“Get up here now boy! Away from that witch!”
Isabella reached for Thomas, but he slapped her hand away. “Do not touch me.”
She looked once again to the mess of skirts and cried out. “Do not leave me in here with her. You know what she is. Please!”
Thomas stood and strode over to the steps.
His father patted his back as the shaft of light emptied, leaving two women—two convicted witches—in the dank cell.
Mrs. Shipton stirred. She groaned and lifted herself up to a sitting position, rubbing her head and shoulders. The waning candle caught her eye and then her stare moved upward to Isabella’s face. “I warned you. You did not listen."
Isabella ignored her. Bringing her feet in front of her, she laid her head on her knees and wrapped herself up.
“I told you he would hurt you. I told your mother so that she might stop you. I knew that he would do this to you. I knew his displeasure with your family.”
“Who?” Isabella winced as her voice carried to the other woman. She did not mean to speak.
“Who?” She scoffed. “John Ludington. I knew he was not fond of you, no matter what good things people said of you. He has issues with money. Your parents' lack of money.”
“My father works hard.”
“And has nothing to show for it.” Isabella saw a slight raise of the woman’s shoulders from across the room, her features contorting in pain. "That makes him still the same poor farmer.”
Isabella made no answer, resting her head down on the tops of her knees again. Muted cries started to echo throughout the cell. Isabella tried to shut it out, to smother her ear against her knee to drown the sound, but she couldn’t. When Mrs. Shipton spoke, her words rang out loud and clear. “I know I should not have done what he told me to. But I love John. And he loves me too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sarah
“Shh…” I smacked Drake in the arm as he stepped on yet another twig. “Jeez, haven’t you ever had to sneak around before.”
“No.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I’m with Mr. Squeaky Clean over here.”
I treaded softly over the branches and leaves as we walked through the woods to spy on tonight’s Wiccan meeting. Drake wasn’t quite so quiet or so graceful. He sounded more like a Mack truck parading down a gravel road.
“I’m sure you have so much experience doing this.”
I lifted my shoulders. “Not exactly this.” I knew the way around my house in the dark though, that was for sure.
I ducked down as we approached the clearing. We’d been walking to the right of the dirt road. As we got closer though, we moved further in so no one would see us. I motioned for Drake to get lower. He complied, but his entire face smirked. He thought this was dumb. Maybe it was. I really didn’t care.
Drake and I settled down in some leaves, our backs against enormous trees whose branches reached for the sky. We could just see the clearing through a tangle of leaves in front of us. That was fine with me; I was more interested in hearing their voices, not watching cruel animal sacrifices or anything else the disturbed Wiccans wanted to do.
Drake twisted toward me, the leaves cracking underneath his weight. “Sarah?”
I stared through the clearing; a few coven members had arrived and talked amongst each other. “Hmm?”
“Sarah?”
I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. They kept their voices low. I thought I heard the word Mother, as Jennie had mentioned before, but I couldn’t be sure. I was about to suggest we move a little closer when Drake’s lips landed on mine. I froze. He urged my mouth open with his and I closed my eyes and kissed him back.
Soon, the voices, the coven, were far away. We embraced each other and our once light kisses turned deep and needy. We broke apart, both breathing heavy and staring into each other’s eyes.
“Where did that come from?” I asked. “You said you weren’t going to kiss me again.”
“You weren’t paying any attention to me, and I needed to know if you liked me.”
“You couldn’t just ask?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I needed to know the truth.”
“And you think I would lie about that?”
Drake paused, and, taking my face in his hands, he brought me closer to him. Our lips touched again. A soft, sweet kiss that turned my insides to butterflies. He pulled away and searched my eyes again. “I knew if you liked me, you’d kiss me. If you didn't…”
“What?” I asked, moving my hips closer to his, eager to kiss him again.
His voice caught in his throat. “I don’t know…you’d probably punch me or something.” He bent his head and kissed my cheek, then the side of my mouth. “I really like you, Sarah.”
“I really like you too.”
“God guys, get a room.”
I jumped. Then, spotting Jennie peering at us through some branches she forced out of her way, my body relaxed.
Her face crinkled together like a rotten apple. “Aren’t you here to do some spying? The meeting’s that way.” She shot a glance through the woods. “It’s already starting. I’m going to do some work from the inside. By the way, I had to apologize to Priestess Courtney so I could come to tonight’s meeting.”
She shot me a look. A look which made it clear she was not happy at all about having to say she was sorry. Then, she took off, shook her head, and walked around to the road before striding up next to the hooded group.
I looked back at Drake. He was scowling. “How does she know we’re here?”
“I texted her.”
“I don’t like her.”
Now that our lips weren’t on each other’s, I felt hot and my insides buzzed. I looked down at the ground, an annoying thought repeatedly poked my brain, reminding me I had more important things to do right now than kiss Drake. Though it was a nice distraction from all the witch stuff.
He pulled on my sneaker. “Come here.”
I twisted and sat in between his legs, laying my back against his chest. He folded his arms around me.
“Just because we’re acting like Nancy Drew doesn’t mean we can’t……have fun.”
He kissed my neck and no matter how much I wanted him to keep going, I turned to him and kissed his lips. “We should really pay attention to this.”
He pecked me on the cheek. “You act like someone’s going to hurt you or something.”
I laughed and snuggled back into his arms, eyes straight ahead toward the clearing.
Courtney was at the meeting now.
She drew the circle and everybody stepped in, hands linked. Each coven member dressed in the same long robes that descended to their knees. Courtney placed white candles at intervals around the circle and lit them. When she moved next to her fellow witches, they bent down in front of her, their foreheads touching the blades of grass.
Back at the altar, Courtney bent over in the same fashion murmuring words I couldn’t quite understand. She rocked back and forth, eyes staring down to the ground. I craned my neck to see past a leafy branch.
None of the witches moved. I couldn’t tell which one was Jennie. The stupid robes made each witch undeterminable from one another. I wished we’d come up with some sort of secret sign language so I’d comprehend what was happening. Looking back at Drake, he shrugged his shoulders and tightened his grip around me, burying his nose in my hair.
He was some help.
Courtney rocked some more, her voice rising and lowering in tune. The wind blew the flames on the candles almost out before it switched directions again and the fire shot right back up. Higher and higher the flames reached, fueled by the wind, looking like mini torches. The high priestess stopped and rose to her feet. The other witches fidgeted as Courtney smiled down. “Rise," she said, voice powerful.
The coven members rose, their knees still planted firmly on the ground, and tilted their heads to see what Courtney revealed. She brought up an object to her face, and a solid wall of some sort interrupted my view. I unwound Drake’s hands from around me and rose to my knees, mimicking the actions of the witches.
Courtney laughed—an astonished, amused laugh. “It’s Mother!”
The coven looked around at one another, all smiles except one. I picked Jennie out now. Instead of looking up at her high priestess, Jennie stare
d into the woods and locked eyes with me. Her shoulders lifted as if to say ‘I have no freaking clue’.
“Whose mother?” Drake asked.
“No idea. We need to find out.”
Drake stood, but I pulled him down and brought my finger to my lips. We both peered back through the darkening forest as Courtney held the object high, waving it around toward the sky. “It’s her. It’s really her.” She brought the square back to her face and smiled. “I’m glad you have come.”
I turned toward Drake and lifted my eyebrows. He shook his head. Courtney turned the object around. It was glass. A mirror, actually. The green of the leaves in front of us showed on the shiny exterior. The high priestess threw back her hood and walked up to each witch, facing the reflective surface toward every one of them.
The coven pulsed with excitement and agitation. When Courtney got to the witches nearest the edge of the woods where Drake and I hid, I could recognize some of them from the other night in the reflective surface. Their eyeballs stayed intact this time, their faces flashing with happiness.
“What the hell is going on?” I whispered.
“No idea.”
“They’re only looking at themselves.”
“I see this.”
When Courtney got to Jennie, the young witch mimicked that of her coven. Her eyes lit up and she nodded. Did she actually see something?
“This is crazy,” Drake laughed out. His voice rose.
“Shh.”
“No. Come on, Sarah. They know we’re watching. That’s why they’re acting like this. They’re playing a joke on me. Well, har har…too—”
I clasped my fingers over Drake’s mouth and brought a finger to my lips again, threatening him with my eyes. I turned back toward the circle to find Courtney at the altar, bent over, pouring something on a white candle and then dropping little leaves on it. She then lit the candle. The flame rose, higher than any other around the circle, yet the wind calmed to a tortoise speed.