by Harper Lin
Bea let her breath out as if making a sound might change the outcome of their experience. “We walked out into the waiting room, and several of the people who had been waiting when we arrived stood up and began to approach us,” she said.
“Like the rat man at the vet,” I mumbled.
“Yeah. They were all big, and their features were dark. But not like Jake’s are dark. These weren’t people. They looked like people at first, but if you stared at them, you could see their skin sinking into their bones and murky shadows settling into every fold and crevice. There were four of them in the lobby. We were the only ones who could see them.”
“What happened once you got outside?” I asked.
“Well, we thanked our lucky stars for the bright sunshine and the cold temperature that snapped us back into this reality,” my aunt said. “We got in the car and sped home.”
“I don’t mean to sound negative,” Bea said as she poured her mom some more tea, “but I have no idea what we should do now.”
“Neither do I,” I added. “But if those circled dates on the calendar in Gail’s office are what I think they are, we don’t have a lot of time. Another member of the Elderflower family is going to die.”
“Cath is right,” Aunt Astrid replied. “First things first. Tomorrow, we need to stop by the apothecary. I need sage and lots of it. We’ve got to clean Cath’s house before we even think of trying to help the Elderflowers. We’ll also need to pool our strength, so Bea, anything you can cook up that will give us that extra physical boost is what we need.”
“Sure. Cath will love it. Avocado. Spinach. Maybe even some tofu for good measure,” Bea teased. She knew I hated when we had to force vitamins. But if it meant never seeing that shadow creature in my bedroom ever again, I’d choke down a raw turnip.
“Cath, you’ll need to get the cats up to speed. We’re going to need them, especially if Treacle scared away the one in your bedroom. There has to be something about the felines that these creatures don’t like. We’ve got three. We’d be silly not to get them involved.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
My aunt looked at Bea and me.
“I’m going to ask an old friend for some help.”
Bea and I had no idea what Aunt Astrid was talking about. We didn’t know what old friend or what they could possibly add to the situation. But we trusted she knew what she was doing.
Since I was still staying at my aunt’s house, I walked outside with Bea as she made the journey three doors down to her house.
“Flip the porch light twice so I know you are inside behind a locked door,” I ordered.
“Yeah. I will. Then you run back inside. I don’t care how silly you think it looks,” she said as she started walking backward toward her home.
“I will.”
Bea did as she was told and flipped the porch light twice. I was about to do what I was told when I saw a light go on across the street. That was my house. It was supposed to be empty. But a shadow passed in front of the window.
I didn’t plan on going in. I was only going to peek through the windows and then call the cops. But when I stepped on the porch and the front door opened, I stepped in to investigate. I knew it was stupid. But I did it anyway. I thought I’d regret it until the day I died.
17
Combat Boots
“Cath! Cath, wake up! Please wake up!”
I heard Aunt Astrid’s voice, but it sounded far off. I was lying down. I knew that. It felt painless and comfortable. For a minute, I was sure my head was detached from my body because I couldn’t feel a thing. I wanted to slip back into that void of deep, deep sleep and catch a few more z’s. I didn’t want to talk or move or even sit up.
“Cath! Come on! Open your eyes! Open them!”
That was when the cold settled in. Nothing ruined sleep like being cold and not having a heavy enough blanket. I thought I reached down to pull up my covers, but it was only in my mind. I didn’t feel the mattress underneath me. In fact, my hipbone was starting to ache as it poked into the hard concrete floor. When I opened my eyes, everything was twisted sideways. I was on the floor in my basement.
Treacle’s window was open just enough for the cat to squeeze through.
“Cath? Can you hear me? Nod if you can,” my aunt said. Just then, I heard heavy footsteps coming down the steps.
“Is she okay?”
It was Tom. Oh no. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me like this. I blinked and focused and painfully pushed myself up.
“I’m okay.”
“You are not,” Aunt Astrid barked. “You’ve got a gash over your head, and you may not have broken your ankle, but it is severely twisted. Don’t move. Bea is on her way.”
“What happened? Why am I in the basement?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that,” Tom said as he rushed up to my side.
“What happened to you?” I asked.
“I was coming by to bring you something. I saw you come into the house. But when I got to the door, it was locked tight. I rang the doorbell and knocked. Nothing. I started to shout for you, and that was when your aunt came from across the street.”
I looked at my aunt. All the worry in her face made me sad, and I tried to sit up, but my head began to pound. When I reached up, I felt my hair was wet. I knew it was blood, but I wasn’t going to look.
“She waited at the front door, and I went around back. That was when I saw your back door had been pried open. I pulled out my gun, and just as I started searching the place, calling your name, a dark figure dashed toward the front door and ran out.”
“Did you see who it was?” I looked at my aunt.
She licked her lips nervously.
“All I saw was a person with long black hair and black clothing. She had a hood pulled far down over her face. Combat boots.”
“Evelyn?” I was in shock.
“Like I said, honey. I couldn’t see her face.” I could tell by my aunt’s voice that the answer was yes but she just didn’t want to tell me. “Tom flipped on all the lights, and the door to your basement was open. I told him I’d look for you. He took off after the girl.”
“Yeah. But a lot of good that did. I’m not sure where she ran off to, but I lost her quickly. It was like she just vanished.”
“Mom!” Bea yelled from upstairs.
“Down here, Bea!” my aunt called back.
“I’m going to search upstairs. I’ll be back in a minute,” Tom said as he quickly went back up the steps and held the door back for Bea.
“Why did you come in here when Mom told you not to?” she scolded me.
“I saw a shadow moving around,” I admitted. It sounded as dumb an excuse as it was. “This is my house, after all.”
“But Mom told you it needed to be smudged. Don’t you ever listen?” Bea’s bottom lip trembled as tears filled her eyes. “You can be so selfish sometimes, Cath Greenstone!”
My cousin had never spoken to me like that. I looked up at my aunt, who was still holding me against her. But I was surprised when her eyes didn’t meet mine.
The lump in my throat forced out the words I would have never said on my own.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t that I thought I was always right. I didn’t. But when I did something wrong or impulsive, saying “I’m sorry” always seemed a little lame. It was easier to take some of Bea’s chores at the diner so she could go home early or pick up some supplies for Aunt Astrid that she wasn’t expecting in order to save her a trip. Actions spoke louder than words, right?
“You should be sorry.” Bea rubbed her hands together and sniffled. “What would I do without you? You’re my sister. Do you think I want to lose you to a monster under the bed?”
The words pierced my heart. That was how my mom died. Now my eyes filled with tears. I felt my aunt’s arms around me squeeze me affectionately.
“Lay her down, Mom,” Bea ordered. “Just to teach you a lesson, I’m going to go put my h
ands in your freezer for a couple seconds.”
As my aunt helped me lie flat on the cold concrete floor, I took her hand in my left hand and Bea’s hand in my right. I couldn’t find the words, so I just squeezed as a couple tears fell.
“Okay. I need you to lie still. Just let me have a look at you.” Bea smiled through her own tears. I watched her face become serious as she inspected not my physical skull and neck but all the little areas where energy travelled. It was as if she were combing for lice. She poked and prodded through every fiber of my aura, looking for some sign of serious blockage. Her hands held my face, my shoulders, and my arms and ran through my hair. When she got to my ankle, I saw her eyebrows purse together.
“There isn’t a break, but you’ll be gimpy for a while.”
“Did you just call me gimpy? Not all that politically correct, are you?” I huffed through the pain of Bea touching my ankle.
“Oh, when you bring trouble on yourself like you did, you just wait. If you think gimpy is bad, you’re going to hate it when I refer to you as Cath the Cripple.”
Even Aunt Astrid had to chuckle.
“I’m glad you two are finding so much humor at my expense.”
“Hush and stay still,” Bea ordered. I couldn’t see anything, but Bea continued to run her hands over the length of my body. Even through the pain in my ankle, I could feel her encouraging my inner energies to flow and circulate more than they usually did. My fingertips and toes tingled, and my head began to clear and stop aching.
“Okay.” Bea sat back on her heels. “I think you’ll live. Mom, does her head need stitches?”
“I don’t think so.” Aunt Astrid looked at the side of my head and then at my face. “But you’ll want to be careful brushing your hair. Let’s get you back across the street. This place is starting to get heavy. Do you feel it?”
“I do,” Bea admitted.
Before I could push myself up off the floor, Bea had called for Tom.
“No. I can make it up the stairs,” I protested.
“Hey, you can argue all you want, but your aunt isn’t going to let you get up any other way,” Tom said. “I’ve got to carry you. It isn’t up to me, Cath. Aunt Astrid is the boss.”
I looked at my aunt, who had a stern look on her face. As much as I hated to admit it, Tom was right. There was no telling Aunt Astrid no.
“This is humiliating,” I muttered in Tom’s ear.
“Really? I think it’s kind of romantic.”
“Pay attention to the stairs and where you are going.” I harrumphed.
Once we were out of the basement, Bea held the front door open, and Aunt Astrid put a camouflage spell on the broken back door. If anyone decided to go snooping around or if the intruder decided to come back, they would see a plank of plywood over the entire door. If they tried to remove it, a shock of electricity would be sent through them. That worked as a deterrent as well as an alarm directly to Aunt Astrid.
Once we were safely at Aunt Astrid’s house, Bea helped me take a bath while my aunt told Tom about the old friend she was going to be contacting for some help.
When I finally came downstairs, I knew I looked a mess. I had on my aunt’s baggy flannel pajamas that were wonderfully warm and cozy but not what you’d want your boyfriend to see you in. My hair was wet, and I had a big, goofy Band-Aid along my hairline.
My aunt was packing Tom a small snack of chocolate pie, half a turkey sandwich from the café, a bag of homemade potato chips, an apple, and a plastic container of cheese squares and crackers.
“I was on my way to work when I stopped by. I’ve got to get going now.”
“Sorry you had to deal with all that,” I said.
“Well, whoever was there was lying in wait for you.”
“How do you know?” I shivered and looked at my aunt and Bea, who were both listening.
“Some of the things you keep under your bed were pushed out. Also, there was a knife from your cutting block lying on the floor. They must have dropped it when I came in.”
I was afraid I was going to puke. The lump in my throat wouldn’t go down when I swallowed.
“What a mess.” I gulped.
“What do you mean? I got to carry you in my arms. The night turned out better than I had imagined.”
I blushed all over the place and wanted to melt into the floor. The lump in my throat gave way to butterflies in my stomach. I smiled at him and enjoyed a long kiss good night.
“If you two are finished, I’ve got to get back home too. Jake will be very worried when I tell him what happened. But I think since this was a person we know, Jake should be put on alert.”
“Tom, would you make sure Bea gets home okay?” I asked as I opened the front door.
“Of course.”
“You,” Bea growled. “Get some rest. Don’t go anywhere. Treacle and Marshmallow will sleep with you. That ought to help keep your circulation going. By tomorrow, you should feel good except for that ankle. It might take a few days to right itself.”
I nodded. There was no way I was going to put up a fight.
After they were gone and I locked the door, I hobbled up to my aunt.
“So, what do you think about this?”
“I can’t think anymore.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to have one last cup of tea, and then I might take a catnap. You should go to bed. Take my room.”
I didn’t argue. Instead, I gave my aunt a kiss on the cheek and hopped pitifully to bed. Treacle and Marshmallow were there and did exactly what Bea had said they would. Treacle perched around my head, and Marshmallow curled up at my feet. There was a constant flow of energy back and forth that was warm and sedating. Almost instantly, I fell into a deep sleep. But it didn’t last. When I woke up, only about an hour had passed, and my aunt was still up.
I crept out of the bed, hoping for a glass of water and maybe a forkful of pie. But I heard my aunt talking quietly. At first, I thought she was chanting a spell or something. But then I heard her laugh. It wasn’t the kind of laugh as if she’d seen something funny on television. This was a giggle like a girl who was being flirted with.
I tiptoed to her study and carefully peeked in.
“Oh, my love. If only you were here with me. We’d have so much fun on these adventures. The girls have grown into such beautiful women. Bea has your eyes. Your niece definitely has the Greenstone sense of humor.”
I could hear whispers replying to my aunt, but they were so low I couldn’t make out any words.
“I hate this time had to be wasted on this problem. But I’m scared for the girls. Thank you for your help. Until next year, then, my love.”
Quietly, I slipped back to the bedroom and climbed under the covers to the nonstop purring motors of the cats. I barely noticed the throbbing in my ankle as I thought about the calendar.
“What day is it?” I scrolled through the week and month, coming to February 6. It was a Tuesday. “It’s the worm moon.” I snapped my fingers and slapped my head only to wince. The worm moon was also called the Lenten moon or Crow moon. It was the last full moon before the vernal equinox. It was the one night out of the year that a witch could call the name of a deceased loved one, or in some cases a desperately hated rival, and speak with them. A witch could communicate with the dead at any time of the year, but it resulted in severe energy draining. It often required more than one day to recuperate. The Worm moon was like a freebie.
Just then, I realized who it was my aunt was talking to. Uncle Eagle Eye.
18
The Apothecary
The next morning, other than a slight headache, I was feeling pretty good. Until I put my foot on the floor and tried to walk.
“Yeow!” I hollered. “Oh, this is going to be great at work.”
At that moment, I heard feet pounding toward my room. I knew they were moving too fast to be my aunt’s. It had to be Bea’s.
“Good morning, spaz,” she chirped cheerily.
“Good morning. Would you
get a load of this ankle? It looks like a grapefruit in a pair of pantyhose.”
“Ha! It does,” she replied.
Peanut Butter slunk in the room and hopped up on the bed with Treacle and Marshmallow, who were slowly stretching themselves awake.
“The gang’s all here.” I gave them each a scratch under the chin. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about work. How am I going to get around with this?”
“Well, Jake had a splendid idea. It’s waiting for you downstairs.”
“Jake? Had an idea? I don’t want it.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s just say sympathy isn’t Jake’s strongest asset.”
“Well, you did bring this on yourself.” Bea chewed her nail daintily. “And you did make Mom and me worry terribly. Not to mention poor Tom having to lug you upstairs after giving chase to the intruder.”
“Evelyn,” I answered.
“Maybe? From the description, probably,” she said, frowning.
We sat there for a moment.
“I overheard your mom last night. She was talking to your dad.” I wasn’t sure if I should be telling Bea, but it didn’t feel right to keep it to myself.
“She was? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I could tell by what she was saying.” I cleared my throat. “She told him how pretty you are and how funny I am. That he’d be proud of us.”
Bea looked at her nails.
“I don’t remember too much about my dad,” Bea admitted. “He died when we were little.”
“I don’t remember too much either,” I admitted. “But I remember him being a nice man. Apples don’t fall far from the tree.” I gave her a gentle nudge with my elbow.
“I wonder why she reached over to the other side like that. Mom doesn’t usually like to dive too deep into those dimensions. She prefers to stay local, so to speak.”