by Mikey Brooks
“I don’t know if I’m ready to give up on the facts to start believing in the imagination of Hollywood. But you do make a good argument.”
Ethan laughed inwardly. Jax sometimes talked less like a fifth grader and more like an adult. Jax returned to the notebook and wrote something down.
“Whatcha writing?”
“Operation Number 2.”
Ethan’s eyebrows lifted. “And that is?”
“I’m debating whether to call it ‘Operation Get a Costume’ or ‘Operation Dress-Up.’ You know, for the Halloween party.”
Ethan let out a laugh. “Did you seriously just make a joke? Man, I am proud of you!”
Jax didn’t even break a grin. “If the witches are planning something at the party, we need to make sure we’re there. What should we dress up as?”
Ethan wanted to say a superhero right away, but then he thought that might be stupid for them to fly around the school dressed as Batman and Robin. He could see a cape being a good way for a witch to stop him from running. “Are we too old to dress up?”
“Not when you’re going to a Halloween party. Besides, I think you stop in seventh grade. That’s about the age my mom tells trick-or-treaters to grow up and save the candy for the kids.”
“How about dressing up as FBI agents—you know, like the Men in Black?”
“And wear a suit to a party?” Jax scrunched up his nose like the idea sounded as bad as wearing swimming trunks to church.
A knock sounded at the door and it swung in a second later. Emmy was standing in the hall. Ethan looked up and smiled, then remembered he was mad at her. He promptly put on a scowl. She caught his expression and rolled her eyes.
“Look, I said I was sorry,” Emmy sassed. “Get over yourselves and come down for dinner. Mama J and I made fried chicken.”
At the mention of food, Jax’s stomach made a loud grumbling noise. Ethan caught the smell of cooking oil and rolls drifting into the room. It did smell good.
“You made fried chicken?” he asked. “I’m not sure I want to eat anymore. I remember the tuna casserole you made with Mom.”
“That was all her fault and you know that.” Emmy planted her hands on her hips and glared down at him. For a second, Emmy looked just like Mom. Jax quickly got to his feet, tossed the notebook on his bed, and headed out the door. Emmy didn’t even notice him pass; her eyes were locked on Ethan’s. What did she want—to have a stare off? Ethan could glower just as long as she could.
His eyes suddenly felt itchy and he closed them. When he opened them Emmy was moving into the room and started to kneel down. “I’m really sorry. I was just so mad at Robbie and I took it out on you. I really don’t want a sister. I like having a brother.”
“You know, Em, sometimes you just say really mean things.”
“I know. I don’t think before I talk. Mom tells me all the time, ‘Say it three times in the head and one time out.’ Most of the time I don’t care what I say . . . but I do when it hurts other people’s feelings—especially yours . . . Twinroos?”
Great! Now I can’t be mad anymore. Ethan gave a shrug and smiled. For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to repeat their special word. Emmy didn’t seem to notice anyway. She helped him up and they headed downstairs.
Half of Ethan wanted to stop her at the door and explain what had been going on at school. He wondered if “Twinroos” would be enough to get her forgiveness later, or if even that wasn’t strong enough for keeping secrets from each other. Their parents had kept secrets, and Emmy acted as though she’d never forgive them. His other half wanted him to keep his mouth shut or he’d blow “Operation Sneak-Out” tonight. Maybe he needed to try and break the witches without her. Ethan needed to prove to Emmy just as much as his parents that he wasn’t worthless. That he didn’t need a sister to stick up for him. That he could handle everything on his own.
Ethan kept his silence and followed Emmy to the smell of fried chicken and what had to be pumpkin pie. He’d find a way of making it up to her another day. He couldn’t lose his sister on his quest to be a witch hunter.
Chapter Fourteen: Operation in Trouble
Ethan and Jax waited until they heard the jarring sound of chainsaws coming from Jax’s parents’ bedroom. Papa Washington snored so bad it was like a perpetual warning to burglars that someone was home. They quietly crept down the hallway and downstairs. When they reached the back door, Jax slid it open. Ethan cringed every time it made a squeak. Soon they were out in the chilly autumn air, racing across the grass to the fence.
The lawn sucked at Ethan’s shoes, squelching and squishing as he ran. They reached the back door and Ethan pulled out his key. The house was dark and eerie with the lingering smell of rotten egg. Ethan went to turn on the kitchen light, but Jax stopped him.
“My parents might notice if a light’s on.”
“Oh, yeah.” Ethan felt a little dumb. He should have thought of that. Some witch hunter you’re gonna make. You’ll blow your cover before you even get close to stealing their wands! Ethan literally shook the bad thoughts from his head and flipped the switch to access the hidden panel to the lair. The panel popped out from the wall and Jax pulled it back. They headed down the stairs and punched in the code to open the door.
“Welcome, Orion Family,” the robotic voice said.
“Thanks,” Ethan answered back. Jax looked at him and smiled. Again, Ethan felt dumb. He didn’t know why. Jax wasn’t poking fun of all the mistakes he was making. Jax shut the door and turned on the lights. The fluorescent glow from above lit up the shelves of books.
Jax let out a low whistle. “Dude, this could take all night.”
“What if we try the computer?” Ethan offered.
“What if Rachel starts asking questions again?”
Ethan thought back to the strange instant message they’d gotten from Agent Rachel Orion. She wanted to know their check in status. It got Ethan to thinking about his parents. Did they have to check in with the W.H.O. all the time? If so, he wondered if there was a way to read their check ins. Ethan’s parents had promised to call as often as they could, but they hadn’t called at all. Not that it was anything new, but deep down he hoped they’d keep their promise.
Ethan ignored Jax’s question and crossed to the desk. He sat down and pushed the mouse around. The screens in front of him lit up. He moved the cursor over to the icon that read W.H.O. Headquarters. Entering the several password prompts, he finally made it onto the W.H.O. website. Not two seconds later, a popup message appeared.
I am freaking out! Why haven’t you reported? –Agent Rachel Orion
“Dude, she seems pretty upset,” Jax said, sitting down next to Ethan. Ethan looked at Jax then started typing.
What reports have you gotten so far? —Agent David Orion
Phew! I was beginning to think something was wrong. What are you talking about? I haven’t gotten anything. No reports from any of the missions. Techie checked the system. It’s all online, but none of the hunters from our division are reporting. —Agent Rachel Orion
What do you mean, none of the hunters? —Agent David Orion
I mean NOBODY has checked in! It’s been over a week since the last time I heard from anyone. What is your check in status? —Agent Rachel Orion
“Yeah, Ethan, what’s your check in status?” Jax asked.
“You’re not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.” Jax swiveled his chair so they were face to face. “Dude, there’s something fishy about all this. Read what she said. All the hunters are MIA. They haven’t reported in over a week. Your parents never reported.”
Jax’s pronouncement made Ethan’s stomach churn. If his parents never reported, then something must have happened to them. He thought back to the sound of the spell being cast over Robbie Maser. The witches must have done something to his parents. But what?
Where are my parents? —Agent David Orion
Who is this? �
�Agent Rachel Orion
Ethan Orion. My mom and dad are Mary and David. They left for Transylvania last week and haven’t called. What’s going on? Where are my parents? —Agent David Orion
That information is classified, sorry. —Agent Rachel Orion
No! You tell me where my parents are! Who the heck are you? —Agent David Orion
When no reply came, Ethan slammed his fist down on the keyboard and screamed. It was one thing for his parents to keep a secret, but when they were missing, the W.H.O. should give up the goods. Ethan growled, scowling at Rachel’s last word: Sorry.
“Welcome, Orion Family,” the robotic voice called.
Ethan felt his heart stop.
He took one final breath and swiveled his chair toward the open door. A figure emerged from the darkness, a gun in hand.
***
Emmy was once again lost in her dreams. She stood on the darkened stage, a single light illuminating her pink tutu. Soft music played somewhere off stage that she moved her body to. She lifted her hands into the air and spun in a half circle. She lifted her leg and struck the pose she’d been studying in her book. Her form was perfect.
Clapping sounded behind her and she lowered her leg, turning to greet her dance mistress. Madam LeBeau stepped into the light, her sleek chestnut hair shimmering. Emmy felt herself smile.
Madam LeBeau smiled too. “That was beautiful, Emmy, absolument magnifique! You have such talent.”
Emmy lowered her head, her cheeks flushing.
“Non, non,” Madam LeBeau said, lifting Emmy’s chin. “A queen never lowers her head to another. Not even to me.”
“But I’m not a queen,” Emmy said, shaking her head.
“Not yet.” Madam LeBeau’s smile grew wide, and her glossy white teeth glimmered like jewels. “But when I am through, Emmaline Margaret Orion, you will be the greatest Witch Queen there ever was.”
Madam LeBeau’s eyes shifted to Emmy’s costume. Emmy looked down. Gone were the pink sequins and tulle. Emmy stood in a black satin dress. Around her neck hung a necklace with a large red pendant, sparkling under the stage lights. Emmy put her hand to the pendant and it stung her fingers. She jerked her hand away.
“Not yet, Emmy, but soon,” Madam LeBeau whispered. “All Hallow’s Eve is just a few nights away. Then you will be able to touch it. We will help you.”
“Who?” Emmy asked.
As if in answer, a glow of orange light filled the darkness around them and green skinned women dressed in ebony dresses stepped forward. Their pointed hats defined them as witches. Emmy sucked in a deep breath. She spun around, looking at the hundreds of glimmering yellow smiles.
“We need you, Emmy. We need you to dance the dance,” Madam LeBeau said. “We need you to become our queen—to right the wrongs of the past. You are our last hope, Emmy. Dance the dance . . . dance the dance!”
The witches began to chant, “Dance the dance.” They repeated it over and over again. A distant drum sounded, mimicking a heartbeat. The red pendant at Emmy’s chest glowed with electricity. She felt the current moving through her limbs.
Emmy’s arms and legs began to move of their own accord. She lifted her right leg and stretched her hands toward the sky—sky! She was no longer on the stage, but under a full moon. Its radiance and wonder filled her with energy and fear. Emmy tried to stop the movement but couldn’t. Her arms were moving so fast. She was spinning, spinning, spinning out of control. The witches continued to chant over and over. She felt herself lift into the air. The moon seemed so close. The witches chanted louder. The drums beat harder. Emmy began to scream. She wanted it to stop. The pendant at her chest was burning. It hurt.
“Miss LeBeau, help me! Make it stop!”
“Dance the dance! Dance the dance! Dance the dance!” the witches cried.
“NOOO!!!”
Emmy shot out of bed and crashed to the floor. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The room was dark. She could still hear the echoes of the chant in her mind. Dance the dance . . . dance the dance . . .
Emmy pushed off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. She stared at the ugly green and blue wallpaper Mama J found so stunning that she covered half the house in it. Emmy clutched her chest, still feeling the pendant’s burn. There was nothing there, yet she could still feel the weight of something pressing against her.
“It was just a dream,” she whispered. Something wet hit her hand and she looked down to see a tear reflecting the dim light coming from the window. She reached up and wiped it away.
Why am I crying? It was just a bad dream. Emmy wished more than anything her parents were home. She’d feel better if she were in her own bed in her own house. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a scary dream, but she did remember her mom singing her back to sleep afterwards.
“I miss you, Mom,” Emmy whispered. The words sounded hollow and empty in the quiet house.
Quiet—it was so quiet. Emmy stood up and went to the door. She opened it a crack and listened. Absolute silence filled her ears. This was the first night she hadn’t heard the sound of Papa Washington snoring. She stepped out into the hallway and over to Jax’s bedroom. She cracked open the door to reveal empty beds.
A mixture of worry and frustration coursed through her. She pushed the door open all the way and crossed to the window. Sure enough, the kitchen light was on next door. Those stupid boys are going to get in trouble. Just then, a shadow passed in front of the window. Emmy could make out two things. The shape of a man, and he was holding a gun.
Emmy did the only sensible thing any girl could do in the situation. She ran to Jax’s closet, grabbed his baseball bat, and went to go save her brother.
Chapter Fifteen: More Family Secrets
Ethan stared dumbfounded at the man holding the gun. He didn’t know what to say. He kept looking from Jax to the gun in Papa Washington’s hand. Jax, it seemed, didn’t know what to say either. Ethan wondered if he’d ever seen his dad touch a weapon before, let alone point it at him.
“What in the great good earth are you boys doing down here?” Papa Washington kept the gun on them.
“Dad, I know we’re in trouble, but can you please not shoot us?”
Realization dawned on Papa Washington and he lowered the gun. “I thought something was seriously wrong. The alarm goes off when the door’s opened after midnight. I thought . . . well, never mind what I thought. You boys shouldn’t be down here. How did you even know about this room?”
“We could ask you the same,” Jax said.
“Yeah!” Ethan agreed. “This is my house. I should know what goes on in my own house.”
“If you had any sense, you would’ve stayed out of it. Now, you two need to come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Ethan shouted. “I want answers and I want them now! Where are my parents? You know what’s going on, don’t you? Tell us!”
Papa Washington’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Ethan had never even raised his voice to his own parents and here he was, yelling at his best friend’s dad. He didn’t know who looked more shocked, Papa Washington or Jax.
Ethan glared at Papa Washington. He had to win this fight. If he couldn’t get answers out of Rachel, he sure the heck was going to get them out of this guy.
“Look, Ethan, there are things you need to understand. What your parents do is very—”
Thwack!
Papa Washington’s eyes rolled up into his head and he fell forward. He crumpled to the floor. Emmy lifted her head from her colossal swing and gave a triumphant grin.
“Are you crazy?!” Jax roared.
“Show some gratitude, Jax, I just saved your life!”
“Saved my life—you just killed my dad!”
Emmy dropped the baseball bat. “What?”
The three of them rushed to Papa Washington and rolled him over. Jax put his head to his dad’s chest. Ethan waited for him to give the signal that he was ali
ve. Before Jax could say anything, Papa Washington’s chainsaw snore filled the room.
Jax sat up and his shoulders sagged.
“I’d say he’s alive,” Ethan joked. Emmy and Jax both glared at him. “What? I’m not the one who went all ‘warrior princess’ on him.”
“He had a gun!” Emmy said in defense. “What was I supposed to do, let a guy come down here and plug you full of bullets?”
“He wasn’t going to shoot us,” Jax snapped. “You didn’t have to hit him so hard.”
“I didn’t know it was your dad, okay? I’m sorry. I saw a guy with a gun, that’s all.”
“You saw a man with a gun and instead of calling the police, you came after him with a baseball bat?” Ethan couldn’t believe how totally awesome his sister was. She made some of the toughest guys looks like wimps. “You’re pretty cool, Em.”
“What?” Emmy and Jax said in unison.
“Well, she is! Dude, think about it. Had your dad been someone else, she would have just kicked the bad guy’s butt. You have to admit, that’s pretty sweet.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Jax moaned. “We can’t just leave him on the floor. What if he has a concussion? You know you can die from head wounds?”
Ethan laughed. “Tell that to kick boxers. Does it keep them from fighting?”
“Not now, Ethan.” Emmy shook her head. “Let me look at his head. If he got knocked out, he probably has a concussion, but as long as he is snoring, we know he’s fine. I just don’t look forward to telling him who did it after he wakes up.”
Ethan watched Jax and Emmy look at the back of Papa Washington’s head. If he remembers anything at all when he wakes up, we are all in serious doodoo. Wait a minute! Ethan sat up and looked from Papa Washington to the computer. He had an idea.
He sat down at the desk and rolled the mouse down to the bottom of the screen, pulling open a search field. He typed in “Washington” and clicked Search. An icon started spinning as the computer searched the files for the name. A list popped up. Most of it was case files in Washington state or Washington D.C. This isn’t working, I need something else . . . got it!