Enchanted, A Paranormal Romance / Fantasy (Forever Charmed)

by Rachel Wells

  Nana’s house was a little square place across the street from Long Sands. Nana referred to it most of the time as her cottage. Mandy wasn’t exactly sure of the difference between a house and a cottage, although she suspected it had something to do with the size. The house was tiny, but somehow did not feel confining in anyway. The outside was made of wooden shingles that had once been painted an immaculate white, but were now mostly a weathered gray with flecks of brightness left here and there on them. There was a large porch in front that ran the length of the house on which sat two rockers side by side with red checked cushions. One had been Papa’s, but Nana had wanted it to remain there by hers. She had said it wouldn’t feel like home without it there. The two of them had loved to sit on the porch in their rocking chairs, talking, drinking iced tea, and watching the sea for hours at a time. Now the chair only had the wind with its mournful voice to rock it to and fro.

  Mandy pulled up behind Nana’s car in the driveway and turned off the ignition to the Boat. Nana was already headed up the front steps. She turned around to look for Mandy and seeing her still sitting in her car she motioned for Mandy to join her. Mandy sighed and got out of the car. She didn’t know if she really wanted to have this conversation, but she had already agreed. She dragged her feet up the steps to the porch, listening to the wood groaning and feeling as though she could empathize with the tired old steps.

  Upon entering Nana’s house Mandy was hit with an aroma of cinnamon and flowers. Of course flowers. Where there was Nana there were flowers. Mandy laid her keys down on the small table to the right of the entryway and spotted a basket of pinecones. That must be the source of the cinnamon smell. Craft stores always seemed to have cinnamon pinecones in stock. Nana turned left into the kitchen so Mandy followed.

  Nana’s kitchen was painted a sunny yellow, actually it matched the shade in the breakfast nook at home perfectly. Huh, she must have used leftover paint, Mandy mused in her head. Nana’s kitchen was small, as it had to be in a small house. There was a bay window facing the ocean that was one of Nana’s favorite parts of the house. Along the window was a small two seater butcher block table with two bar stools on either side. It was like Nana to mix the old with the unexpected. “Sit, sit, hon,” Nana offered, pointing at one of the stools. Papa’s side, Mandy thought, looking thoughtfully at the stool. “It’s not going to pull itself out!” Nana urged. Mandy slowly went towards the stool and scraped it back across the black and white checkered linoleum floor. “Now, I’ll just get us a little snack and I’ll be right there. Hot chocolate?” Nana suggested.

  “Yeah, that sounds good,” Mandy agreed, happy at the thought of a hot beverage. She leaned her head on her hand as she waited for her grandmother to be done bustling about the kitchen. She watched the waves going in the same pattern over and over again, musing that it must get old after a while to always be doing the same thing and have no control of your actions. Of course, it was the ocean, so it’s not like it would have any inkling of thoughts like those, she argued with herself. Maybe she was the one losing her mind…

  The clinking of a plate on wood in front of Mandy stole Mandy’s gaze from the ocean to the table in front of her. A small plate was heaped with double stuffed Oreos and Nana was sliding a mug full of steaming hot chocolate towards Mandy. “Mmm,” Mandy breathed.

  “Help yourself,” Nana said.

  Mandy reached for the Oreos and took one, twisting it open to lick out the cream. Then she thought better of it and dunked the cookie into the hot chocolate first and popped it into her mouth. It crumbled apart in Mandy’s mouth, a perfect balance of chocolate and vanilla cream, warm and even sweeter than usual due to its sudden dip. Mandy could easily eat the whole plate if she wasn’t careful. She reached for another cookie, deciding that she would just keep eating and wait for Nana to break the ice. Nana was sipping her hot chocolate, politely waiting for Mandy to be done. As Mandy reached for her fourth Oreo, Nana finally piped up with a “Now, Dear, you don’t want to make yourself sick!”

  Mandy snorted. “Why not? You can just heal me right, Nana?” She knew she was being sarcastic, and part of her felt bad for talking to her grandmother in such a fashion, but Mandy still wasn’t completely sure how she felt about this whole healing idea. Lashing out was almost like a natural reflex. Things seemed to pop out of Mandy’s mouth on their own accord before she had time to approve the comments. Ashamed, Mandy looked down at her cocoa, afraid for once to meet her grandmother’s emerald eyes.

  “Don’t be mad, Mandy. You were going to find out sooner or later,” Nana said gently. “I always say the sooner the better, so…”

  “So what, Nana? So as if it wasn’t already bad enough to be the new kid in town, who never quite fits in like everybody else, so now I get to add another nail into my coffin of isolation? You know, things weren’t actually going so bad here. Ally and I are getting along and I even got asked on a date. Now you have to come along and tell me you’re some sort of healer and I’m destined to be one too?! Do you not realize how crazy that sounds? Crazy, Nana! If people find out…”

  “Don’t be ashamed of who we are, Mandy!” Nana said sternly.

  Oh, man, she never calls me by my name…Mandy inwardly groaned. She knew she had crossed a line with her sudden outburst of attitude just now. Mandy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Nana,” Mandy said quietly, trying to speak calmly. “I’m not ashamed. I guess I am just having a hard time understanding it, believing it even. And my first impression is that it’s weird. If I think it’s weird, then I would assume everyone else will also think it’s weird. This isn’t the Dark Ages. We have medicines and tools people from Mary Nasson’s time never had, so why would there even be a need for healers now?”

  “Ah, Mary Nasson,” Nana said dreamily. “What do you know of her, Child? Just what Henry told you? A bunch of silly rumors?” Nana shook her head.

  “As a matter of fact, I know more than you probably think,” Mandy said a little smugly.

  “You do? Well, why don’t you fill an old-timer in?” Nana chuckled.

  “Well, I don’t know if you knew but that trunk you gave me had a bunch of old papers tucked into it,” Mandy began. Nana’s face suddenly grew serious.

  “Papers? What papers? That trunk was empty, I’m quite sure,” Nana looked confused.

  “I thought it was empty too. I kept smelling something. Remember when I asked you about what the trunk had been used for? Well, I was looking in it and I noticed a slit in the fabric, and found some seriously old letters…and things,” Mandy shrugged.

  “Things?”

  “Yeah, like pressed flowers and their names and I guess uses for them. The weirdest part was, well now I’m going to sound like the crazy one, but the flowers still smell,” Mandy’s voice fell an octave lower as she said the last part of the sentence, for some reason unsure as to what her grandmother would think of this admittance.

  “Dear, where are those things now?” Nana was leaning in towards Mandy across the table, anxiety written all over her face.

  “They’re in my room. Why?” Mandy looked quizzically at Nana.

  “No time to waste, Dear. We must get those papers now!” Nana directed, standing up faster than a lady her age should be able to move. She grabbed Mandy’s wrist and pulled her towards the door.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  The ride over to Mandy’s house was quiet, mainly because once again Mandy and her grandmother had taken separate cars. Mandy was surprised at her grandmother’s urgency to see the papers. From Nana’s reaction, it seemed that there was more to it than just curiosity at seeing some neat old artifacts.

  From the time they stepped out of their cars, Mandy’s grandmother was consistently a couple of steps ahead of Mandy as they walked towards the house. “Nana, I can barely keep up with you. Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?” Mandy joked. Nana turned around on the step to face Mandy as she waited for Mandy to unlock the front door.

  “I have
a hunch, in fact I’ve had a hunch for years actually, and it looks like I may finally be able to prove it,” Nana sounded a bit breathless by all the excitement.

  “A hunch?” Mandy looked at her grandmother confused as to what she was talking about.

  “Yes, Dear, but unless you unlock the door we’ll never find out now, will we?” Nana urged. Mandy decided it might be better in this situation to wait with her questions. She unlocked the door and swung it inwards, her grandmother practically pushing her in through the threshold in her eagerness.

  “Nana!” Mandy said, appalled at the way in which her grandmother was acting.

  “Well, where are they?” Nana asked eyes darting wildly back and forth.

  “I think they said something about needing to get groceries,” Mandy replied.

  “No, not your parents, Mandy! The papers, the old papers you found!” Nana seemed as if she was ready to split a gasket at any moment.

  “Sheesh, Nana, chill!” Mandy said, not even caring how that might sound. She had a feeling that her attitude was probably the last thing on Nana’s mind at the moment. “They’re in my room.” Mandy started up the stairs with her grandmother hot on her heels.

  Mandy flipped on the light and walked over to her desk. She turned on the little table lamp and grabbed the folded stack of papers from under a big dictionary, her lame attempt at a hiding space. She started to unfold them as Nana’s hand reached forward. “May I, Dear?” Nana asked, seeming significantly more calm now that her elusive treasure was only inches from her.

  “Sure,” Mandy agreed with disgust, handing them over to her grandmother. Nana unfolded the papers more roughly than Mandy had been handling them, which was surprising to Mandy. Didn’t Nana realize how old and delicate these papers were? She wanted to tell her grandmother to be careful, but she bit her tongue. She watched in shock as Nana’s eyes scanned over the letters and flung them carelessly back on the table without a second look, followed by the recipes or whatever they were. They landed in a tumbled heap on the desktop, the last one sliding down to the floor in abandonment. “Nana!” Mandy could not help exclaiming for the second time in five minutes.

  “This,” Nana breathed, obviously excited with the one document she was left holding. “This is what I was hoping for!” Nana’s hands seemed to be shaking with anticipation.

  “Those are just those weird flowers I was telling…” Mandy started but stopped short as she watched in horrified silence as her grandmother ripped one side off the paper. The tearing sound was too loud and had the same effect as someone raking their nails down a blackboard. Mandy cringed, unable to say anything but at the same time wanting desperately to make Nana stop wrecking the ancient page. Instead of finding her voice right away, Mandy’s mouth fell open and a gasp came out, followed by what she knew was herself talking, but in a much higher tone than she was used to hearing. “What are you doing?!” The piece that Nana had ripped off fluttered to the floor, already forgotten. Mandy bent over to pick up the discarded paper. “We can tape it, Nana. I have tape,” Mandy said looking hurriedly at her desk trying to remember where she had left that roll.

  “If we tape it, we won’t be able to look at this, Dear,” Nana said calmly, pulling out what looked to be another paper that had been hidden beneath the page of flowers. Mandy recoiled at the sheer shock of it.

  “I don’t understand,” Mandy said, shaking her head at what she was seeing.

  “Look, Dear, it’s just as I thought!” Nana said gleefully, handing Mandy the now ruined page of flowers. Mandy found she was almost scared to touch it. It had lain in secret for so long in the trunk, but it seems in itself was another secret that Mandy had not yet discovered. Mandy took it gingerly and looked at the ripped edge Nana had left. It revealed it was actually something of a homemade pocket. The flowers had been glued to what was actually two pieces of paper. Mandy gently looked between the papers at the now empty resting place of the paper Nana had found. The two pieces of paper had been glued together only at the edges, leaving open the middle spot to conceal this newfound document. Mandy remembered how she had noticed the heaviness of the flower paper in comparison to the letters, but she had just assumed Mary Nasson had used a thicker kind of paper in order to hold up through all the glue and flowers. Mandy felt her mouth drop open again as she pieced it all together in her head. She looked from the flower page to her grandmother’s hands holding the paper and then up at her eyes, which were intent on the paper itself, everything else forgotten.

  “Nana, what is that?” Mandy needed to know. She figured it must be something of importance if it had been hidden away like that for all this time. Her grandmother held up hand at Mandy without looking at her as if to silence her.

  Mandy felt a slight pang of jealously that her grandmother had discovered this newest addition instead of herself. After all, Nana had given the trunk, and therefore its contents as well, to Mandy so technically the letters were hers. She felt a right of ownership to the mysterious paper and was feeling a bit annoyed that she could not look at it first, or at least with her grandmother. Was it so hard to give her some explanation in the mean time? Nana’s eyes were darting back and forth across the page and she was nodding her head in a knowing way.

  “I knew it!” Nana declared triumphantly.

  “Knew what?!” Mandy asked, exasperated beyond belief with her grandmother.

  “This, Dear, will forever change Mary Nasson’s place in history. It will clear her name!” Nana said.

  “I still don’t get what you’re talking about,” Mandy said sitting on the edge of her bed.

  “You started to tell me a story, Mandy, and this will give it the ending it deserves, rather than the one it ended up with,” Nana brought the paper with her and sat down next to Mandy on the bed.

  “I told you a story?” Mandy said baffled, shaking her head.

  “Yes, Dear. You went out for ice cream with your friends and you came home upset because they told you that Mary Nasson was your ancestor and also a witch,” Nana said nodding. “Remember?”

  “Yeah, but remember how you told me that she was a witch, and so are you?”

  “Ah, I believe I said some people call us witches, but we prefer the term healers. When people think of the word witch, well what do you think of if I say witch?” Nana probed.

  “Um, I don’t know…pointy hats, broomsticks, bubbling cauldrons, spells and stuff…” Mandy trailed off, unsure as to where her grandmother was going with this.

  “So you can see why we would prefer to use the term healer then can’t you? Healers help, healers heal. It may be magic, that’s true, but it’s not evil or of the devil. And the biggest misconception is perhaps that we can do magic on whoever we want. The truth is Mandy, it only works if one believes. The most important thing to remember is that you cannot heal without truly believing and you cannot be healed without also truly believing.”

  “OK…” Mandy replied not sure of what else to say. “So how does that pertain to whatever you’re holding?”

  “This, my dear, is what soiled your poor ancestor’s name and ultimately brought her to her early grave, and yet it is also what will clear her name for the rest of time. Do you know Mary Nasson’s fate, Child?” Nana asked softly.

  “Lucas told me she was hung. And that his however many greats grandfather testified as a witness in the trial against her,” Mandy said, feeling her pulse quicken.

  “That’s true. And this just happens to be a letter from said gentleman,” Nana said nearly spatting out the last word.

  “Well what does it say?” Mandy demanded, realizing that the letter was about to reveal some important truth to her.

  “See for yourself, in the words of Daniel O’Leary, the esteemed doctor of yesteryear’s York,” Nana said passing the letter to Mandy.

  Mandy took it carefully and began to read:

  May 12, 1774

  Goodwife Nasson,

  I write in haste, as this will not be pleasant for either of us
. Hence, I will get directly to the business at hand. It appears you mean to drive me out of business, Woman! I have not a steady income but rather a dwindling one as more and more of the good people of York seek out your incompetent hands instead of my own educated ones. I am left scrambling to put food on my table. This cannot be. I know not what you do, but I do know what you be. You use the supernatural to do your evil healing. The devil does your bidding in healing the sick and frail in exchange for souls, yours and the unsuspecting. Whilst so far you have not been caught, you had better sleep lightly, Goodwife Nasson. For if you so much as have one patient whom does not make a recovery from your treatments, I will use that as an opportunity to expose you of your shameful deceits. I will make it known by any means I can secure, that you are indeed a witch and so binded to the devil himself. The town will not have it as I can no longer tolerate you. I swear to you, upon everything that is holy, that if you so much as try to defend yourself, the sparing of your neck will mean that of your sister’s. And if I so much hear that you have even breathed a hint of this letter to anyone, there will be no reckoning with me. Take this in silence and treat your patients wisely, Goodwife, for if there comes a day you do not have a victory, I will be there to celebrate your loss. Hear me now, for I am

  Doctor O’Leary

  His name was signed with a flourish, highlighting how proud he was of his title. Mandy suddenly realized she was holding her breath and inhaled and exhaled quickly. The words on the page seemed to be getting blurry. “Are you all right, Dear?” Nana asked, searching Mandy’s blank face. “You look rather pale.”

  “Yeah, I’m just, I don’t even know what to say. I’m shocked,” Mandy replied looking down at the damning piece of paper. “So when Elias…”