Shadow Child

by Wendy Wang

  "No, I can start, although, I think we can definitely use his insight on this, as well as Tom's," Charlie said.

  "That sounds serious," Tom said.

  "I think it is," Charlie said. "First thing, I just want to say I'm sorry, Jen."

  "You're sorry? What did you do?" Jen sounded bemused.

  "I told you Barbara Jean wasn’t dangerous," Charlie said.

  "What?” Jen’s expression transformed from curious to panic-stricken.

  "First, before you freak out too much. Whatever you ended up doing to Ruby’s room, it blocked Barbara Jean from your house."

  “I basically just revoked my invitation with a quick blessing and a blessing bag on Ruby’s headboard," Jen said.

  "That’s good. Maybe I should do that,” Charlie said.

  “Why? What happened?” Jen asked.

  "Barbara Jean paid a visit to my house," Charlie said.

  "Are you serious?" Jen said. "We just put new wards out for your house."

  "I know, and I burn sage pretty regularly. But somehow it didn't stop her, and I can’t say today that she isn’t a negative entity anymore."

  "Who’s a negative entity?" Ben approached the table wearing a curious expression on his round face. His beard had gotten thicker since the last time Charlie saw him. The dense facial hair downplayed his baby-face but didn’t detract from his good looks. "It’s good to see you, Tom. It’s been a while.”

  “Good to see you too, Ben,” Tom said.

  "Hey, sweetie," Jen moved over closer to the wall allowing Ben to slide into the booth next to her. Ben gave her a quick peck on the lips before taking off the light jacket he wore.

  Once they were all settled, and Jen had gotten Dottie to bring tea glasses for Ben and herself, Ben folded his hands together and settled his sharp blue eyes on Charlie.

  "Why don’t you start at the beginning?" Ben took a sip of his sweet tea.

  “All right,” Charlie said. She began with the auction and ended her story with waking from the bad dream and her encounter with Barbara Jean at her door.

  "And you think the child choked you?" Tom asked.

  "Yeah, I do. I think it scared her when I talked about moving on," Charlie said.

  "Yeah," Ben nodded in agreement. "Spirits don't like the idea of the unknown any more than we do."

  "So that settles it then. I'll make a few blessing bags for your house and maybe you can catch her and Tom can ferry her over across the veil and be done with it," Jen said.

  "I'm free for now, Charlie. If you'd like some help," Ben said.

  "I'd appreciate that," Charlie said.

  "Done," Ben said.

  "Do you want to talk about your dream, love?" Tom asked.

  Charlie chuckled. “Nobody wants to hear about my dream.”

  “Maybe it’s connected,” Ben said. “You’ve said yourself on many occasions that sometimes spirits try to tell you their story in your dreams.”

  “Yes, but this wasn’t about Barbara Jean. It was about a woman, who I think, was about to be committed by her husband,” Charlie said.

  “Oooh, that sounds like the plot of a Lifetime movie,” Jen said. “I’d watch it.”

  “Actually, it was sad and kind of scary. She definitely had something going on.” Charlie rubbed her forehead, remembering Edwina thrusting her head into the mirror. “I may go to the library at Charleston College to see if I can find any information about them. They seemed wealthy, so maybe they’re in the society pages.”

  “We can make a date of it.” Tom pressed his shoulder against hers. “If you’ll have me.”

  Charlie smiled and said, “I’d like that.”

  “Would I be too much of a third wheel if I tagged along?” Ben asked.

  Tom opened his mouth to say something, but Charlie answered before he could. “No, of course not.”

  Tom closed his mouth. A perfunctory smile crossed his lips, and he echoed, “Of course not.”

  “Maybe I could pick your brain about something. If you don’t mind,” Charlie said.

  “Sure,” Ben said.

  Dottie, a longtime waitress at the café, approached the table carrying two plates. Her short, silver hair was held back from her face in a tie-dyed scarf, and the only make-up she wore was a bright, pink lipstick.

  "Here you go," Dottie said putting the plates down in front of Tom and Charlie.

  Ben's eyes grew wide at the sight of Charlie's meal. His stomach growled loud enough for the whole table to hear and Jen laughed. "Dottie, could you please bring us another plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes?"

  "Coming right up," Dottie said with a smile, then turned on her heels and headed back to the kitchen.

  Chapter 11

  Lisa Holloway opened the locked doors to the built-in decorative cabinet in the wall next to her television. Her stomach fluttered a little. This was the first time she had ever shown Jason Tate her altar. It was as personal to her as anything she had allowed him to do to her body and far more sacred. She gently straightened up the collection of items sitting atop a navy blue velvet scarf. There was a mix of crystals and small jars with what to an ordinary person's eye might have seemed like a strange or random collection of items. But every one of them had meaning for her. In the center of her altar was a shiny brass pentagram within a double circle. She’d placed across the back of the shelf a small broom that she had made herself as part of her witch's training. She had learned her craft first from her grandmother Bunny and later her aunt, Evangeline. A deck of tarot cards sat in front of an obelisk made of white quartz, along with an orderly arrangement of pictures in small frames, one of her dad. One of Jen and Ruby. One of Charlie and Evan, and one of Daphne and Evangeline. Her family. Each photo frame had a black tourmaline crystal glued to the top center rail and a tiny burlap bag tied with a leather cord that wrapped around the base. Inside the bag were various protective herbs, salt, a crystal or two and any other object she deemed worthy of inclusion for its magical properties. There were also candles of different colors in brass holders. She took the deck of cards, and both a purple and a gray candle from the altar.

  "So this is it?" Jason asked. "This is where all the magic happens." The teasing in his voice irritated her. She sighed and closed the door to the altar. The lock clicked when she turned the little brass key, and she slipped it back into her pocket.

  "That's not really helpful," she said. "Would you go into a church and say that to a priest or a pastor?"

  "No," he said. The wry grin on his face faded and his expression grew thoughtful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun. Really, I didn't."

  "Magic isn’t all just fun and games you know. In essence, this is my religion."

  "You're right," he said, his handsome face contrite. "I really am sorry."

  "Apology accepted," Lisa said, trying not to bristle too much. She knew she could be prickly. Hard to love and even harder to hold onto. She was trying to do better. Be a better girlfriend. She had never done that with any of her past boyfriends.

  "So how is this going to work exactly?" he asked.

  "I don't know exactly," Lisa said. She walked over to the breakfast bar in her condo where she had spread out a fringed black velvet table runner. She placed the two candlesticks down above the tarot cards.

  "I need a lighter," she said.

  Jason stood at the end of the breakfast bar partly in her way. She scooted around him and opened the top drawer. Jason regarded her with some curiosity. Several organizers fit together like a puzzle, filling the space inside, giving things like a lighter, a Leatherman tool, two screwdrivers, a pair of pliers and a small flashlight a home. Two small baby-food jars had been repurposed to hold an array of buttons and other sewing tools, like needles and pins.

  "You keep the neatest junk drawer I think I've ever seen." His lips twitched into a grin.

  "You say that like it's a bad thing," she said. Her fingers wrapped around a long, thin barbecue lighter. She pressed the little button with her thumb and pul
led the trigger. A flame appeared at the end of the black metal tube. Once she was satisfied that it worked, she closed the drawer and went back to the work area she'd made. She settled into one of the barstools and put the lighter down next to the velvet.

  "I need the picture," Lisa said.

  "Right," Jason said. He opened the manila folder lying on the counter in front of him. Inside, the school photo of a pretty, brunette thirteen-year-old girl stared back. From the look on Jason's face, Lisa knew this was one of the most important cases to come across his desk in a long time. Lisa would've recognized the girl even without the photo. Keeley Moore had dominated the news for the last three-and-a-half months. Her story had even made national headlines. Not one, but two FBI agents had consulted on the case. Other counties had offered up men for a massive search for the girl.

  On July 5th, during a summer camping trip with her family to Palmetto Point State Park, Keeley Moore had walked by herself 50 yards from her parent's beachfront campsite to the public bathroom just before dawn and vanished into the ether without even a hair, piece of fiber, or tire track left behind by her abductor. Amber alerts had gone out, and her picture had been splashed across social media. The videos of her parents begging for their daughter's safe return had broken Lisa's heart and put Jen and Charlie on edge for weeks. What if it had been Ruby? Or Evan? Perverts weren't confined to those who snatched little girls.

  Lisa reached for the photo and placed it between the two candles. She rested her fingertips on the bottom of the image for a moment, concentrating on the girl’s face, setting her intention for the reading.

  "Before I start, I just want to say I've never done this sort of thing before. I'm pretty good at finding missing things, but I’ve never done a reading like this for a missing person or anything living before," she said.

  "I know, honey," Jason said. "I promise you any information you give me is better than what I've got right now."

  Lisa gave him a quick nod. She picked up the lighter and flicked it to life, touching the flame to the wicks of the candles. Her fingers brushed over the deck of tarot cards. It was a traditional deck that her grandmother had given her when she officially joined the coven at seventeen. She wasn't sure precisely what spell her grandmother had put on the cards, but despite her excessive use of them when she was younger, they looked almost as if they had never been used. After a quick shuffle, she fanned them out into a line and let her left hand drift back and forth over the cards before she began to draw from them. One by one she selected the ten cards she needed and then placed them face down in front of her in a Celtic cross spread. From the corner of her eye she saw Jason watching her movements, studying her with his usual intensity. She turned over the first card in the center of the circle of cards she’d laid out.

  The Sun.

  "What does it mean?" Jason said.

  "It represents the girl," Lisa said. "Carefree and innocent. I can't remember from the news, is she an only child?"

  "Should you be asking me questions? Charlie doesn't like to know—"

  "I'm not Charlie, and this isn't like what she does,” she explained. “I’ll need to ask clarifying questions to make more sense of the meaning and I’ll answer your questions."

  "Okay," he said. "Yeah, she’s an only child. And this is her?"

  "Yeah, pretty much,” Lisa said. “She’s the light at the center of her family.”

  "You can tell that from one card?" Jason said. The skepticism in his voice made her bristle.

  "Yes, I can. I love you, and I know this is weird for you, but negative energy will mess me up so— "

  "Sorry," Jason said. He held his hands up in surrender. "Didn't mean to upset you. It’s just strange because that’s how her mom described her to me when I interviewed her. Sunshine is what her parents call her in private. That wasn’t in the news."

  "I’m not surprised about that. The cards tell me a story about the answers I'm seeking. Some of it will be the past. Some will be the present. Some of it will be the future,” Lisa said. “Each card will stand alone but it will also make up part of a bigger picture. You know what I mean?”

  "I guess. I didn't even know you read tarot,” he said.

  "Jen and I both do. Although I tend to rely on it more than she does,” Lisa said.

  "What about Charlie?" Jason said.

  Lisa chuckled. "Charlie doesn't need it. She can see the story most of the time without anybody's help."

  "And Daphne?" Jason asked.

  "Daphne was never one to focus on seeking answers this way.” She shrugged. “She has plenty of other talents."

  "Like what? Fixin’ people’s hair?" Jason chided.

  "Hey, not only is she the best I’ve ever seen when casting a glamour, she's also a wicked potions mistress," Lisa said, letting her irritation show. Her younger cousin might drive her crazy, they might butt heads on occasion, but she was Lisa’s family, and she didn’t like it when other people disparaged Daphne. "You might think twice if she ever hands you a drink and is wearing a weird little smile. Just sayin’."

  Jason laughed, but it was broken and nervous as if he wasn't sure if Lisa was joking or not. "Really?”

  “Really,” Lisa said.

  “Okay. Good to know,” Jason said. “Let’s keep going.”

  Lisa turned over the second card that was crossways beneath the center card and placed it across the Sun card.

  “Eight of Swords,” Lisa muttered. “That makes sense.”

  “Why?” Jason asked.

  “It shows she’s been abducted and is being held captive. The woman on the card is tied up, blindfolded and surrounded by swords. She’s a victim.”

  “You think she’s alive then?” Jason said.

  “She was when she was abducted. There are still more cards to flip so I don’t want to make any assumptions yet.”

  “Right,” Jason said. “Let’s keep going.”

  Lisa reached for the top-most card and flipped it over. Her body relaxed a little and the tension she held between her shoulders lessened.

  “You’re smiling. That’s a good card?” Jason asked.

  “Three of Cups. Yes. It’s a good card. It represents influence so you may end up working with Charlie whether you like it or not. And maybe Jen or Daphne.” She touched the card, knowing she was one of the three women holding up a brass cup on the card.

  “Not Charlie,” Jason muttered.

  Lisa rolled her eyes. If he didn’t want to work with her cousin, that was fine. It didn’t mean she couldn’t. Lisa turned the next card. “The Star. It reinforces her roots, how she’s the center of her parents’ universe.” Lisa turned the next card and scowled. “Someone betrayed her.”

  “Who?” Jason said.

  “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t hurt to take another look at who was around her that week. Friends, family, other campers.”

  Jason pulled a little notebook he kept in the breast pocket of his shirt along with a pen and scribbled a note.

  Lisa paused for a second, letting her hand hover over the next card. The energy in the room shifted from anxious to heavy. The sixth card in the Celtic cross spread would be a glimpse of Keeley Moore's near future. If the girl was dead (or going to die soon), this card could show Lisa that outcome and part of her didn’t want to know. Part of her wanted that little girl to get away from whoever was holding her captive and make her way back to her parents.

  "We're not meant to know what's over the horizon, darling. That’s why the world is round,” her father had told her more times than she could count. “If we know too much, we might not want to face the scary and the bad things in front of us. But if we don't, darling, we won't find out what's on the other side."

  She'd thought that nonsense when she was a teenager and even into her twenties. But now, she knew there was wisdom in his words.

  "What are you waiting for?" Jason said. He stared at the cards. His brow furrowed and his jaw set as if he were trying to figure out some puzzle.

&n
bsp; "Nothing," Lisa said and turned over the next card. Her heart dropped into her belly.

  "The tower. What does it mean? Is it bad?" Jason said. “Is she dead?”

  “No. I don’t think she’s dead. Things are in turmoil or will be, even more so than they are now. It could mean she’s being held somewhere and y’all are close to finding her, but things are still touch and go for her.” She sighed. “The other cards will tell me more," she said. She turned the last four cards in rapid succession, not waiting to contemplate each one. She took a breath and began to look at the situation as a whole instead of card by card.

  "She had a happy life before. Carefree and she shined. She's artistic and has this sunny sort of energy that people are drawn to. That's what he was drawn to, too." She tapped the Nine of Swords card. “I’m really curious about how this plays into it all. I have this nagging feeling that someone saw something, but didn’t say anything because it would expose him.”

  “Are we gonna find her alive?” Jason asked, his voice full of caution.

  "I don't know. Part of it could depend on you,” she said.

  “On me? I’m doing everything I can,” Jason protested. “Following every single lead no matter how small.”

  “This card tells me you’re really not.” Lisa touched her finger to the card in the seventh position. Temperance. “This is about the attitude at hand. It shows the need to work together. To temper whatever pride or hurt feelings or mistrust you might have toward a certain psychic.”

  “That can’t be true,” Jason scoffed.

  “I’m just telling you how I see it. And there’s still a lot of confusion and darkness to come, and there’s no resolution at this point. I don’t know how much longer she'll stay alive. And this spread isn't giving me any information about where he's keeping her, other than she's in a dark, lonely place." She tapped the eighth card. The Nine of Swords. "I don’t sense that she’s fighting anymore. We need to find her before she gives up, otherwise, she may be lost forever."

  "There's a danger of that?"

  "Yes, there is, and honestly, you need help," Lisa said. "This is going to take more than just me, though."