Blood Creek Witch Page 11

  Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. I really don’t know what I’m doing.” She couldn’t remember all the words Hattie had used in her incantation after Jenny had sipped the terrible drink. Would the words have any power without Hattie drinking the potion? Would she be doing everything wrong?

  If she had the ability, she might as well try to use it. It couldn’t make things worse, could it? She began the chant, focusing on Hattie’s body and willing it to be repaired, even if she didn’t know exactly what was injured.

  “Fever a-falling, bones are a-mending

  Itching and ailing relieve you…”

  She couldn’t remember the second part, so she started making up words.

  “That ain’t what she said,” Jessabelle announced.

  Jenny offered a mic-dropping rejoinder: “Shut up!”

  Hattie’s eyes fluttered open, but it took her a moment to focus. Seeing Jenny, she broke out into a wide smile. “Amy! You’ve come back! I’ve missed you!” Jenny didn’t know how to respond, terrified that Hattie was hallucinating. Hattie’s expression changed, and she said, “No, you’re… you’re Jenny. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. What about you? Are you okay, Aunt Hattie?”

  “I have no idea. How bad do I look?”

  “Hard to tell.”

  “That doesn’t sound promising.” Her eyes focused better, and her face grew hard. “What about the snallygaster? Where is it?”

  “We killed it,” Jenny said. “Or, really, Jack killed it.”

  Jessabelle shook her head. “Don’t believe her. She stood in front of that thing and kept it distracted until Jack came up next to it and blew its eye out.”

  Hattie’s smile was thin, but sincere. “You kids. My personal band of ass-kickers. In case I forget when I’m chewing all y’all out later, I’m real proud of you.”

  Jessabelle helped Hattie drink the potion. Hattie partly gagged halfway through, but finished off the rest of the jar. “Oh, laws, I forget how terrible that tastes.”

  Hattie helped Jenny recite the spell again. The results were dramatic. The gash along the side of Hattie’s head sealed and faded to something that resembled a fresh, tender scar. Her breathing deepened and grew more regular, and within minutes Hattie stood and was ready to move out. Her arm remained injured, and they made a barely-functional sling out of a strip of gauze from Hattie’s pack.

  They made slower progress, but they exited the woods and found Hattie’s truck before the last of the sun’s fading red glow had been swallowed by the mountains.

  In the twilight, Jenny could still make out the Casto’s farm, and the hill where she’d found Sam’s body. Had it only been last night? So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that it felt like it had all started a week ago.

  “Jenny, can you drive?” Hattie asked.

  “I don’t have a license.”

  “I didn’t ask that. Nobody’s going to be checking your license up here. Can you drive?”

  Jenny nodded. “I got my learner’s.”

  Hattie handed her the key. She and Sean rode with Jenny in the cab, while Jack and Jessabelle rode in the truck bed. Hattie gave her directions. Even driving slowly, each bump in the dirt road felt like a ramp propelling them into orbit.

  Hattie held on with her good arm, and asked, “Sean, are you sure you don’t want to stay with us? It won’t be much, but I can make up the couch for you. We’ll have pancakes in the morning.”

  “No, that’s okay. I agreed to help Evelyn out with something tomorrow, anyway.”

  “Nothing that concerns us, does it?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.”

  Hattie nodded. Her eyes focused on the dirt road ahead, jaw set. Jenny was certain Hattie wanted to offer suggestions about Jenny’s driving, but her aunt avoided even looking at her. They dropped Sean off first, then Jack. After Jack waved goodnight, Jessabelle came to the driver’s side window.

  “I don’t trust him,” Jessabelle said.

  “You don’t mean Jack, do you?” Jenny asked.

  “No, I mean Sean. I saw him and Evelyn together. One of ‘em bewitched that ogre like it was nothing.”

  “Good thing, too,” Hattie said. “Or both of them would be dead right now, and maybe the Castos and their neighbors, too.”

  Jessabelle shrugged. “I reckon so. I still don’t trust ‘em.”

  “You probably shouldn’t. But that’s no reason to be rude.”

  When they got home, Hattie dug through a bedroom drawer to uncover a medical sling. Jenny helped her put it on, replacing the tied gauze strips which had bunched up to become little more than a cord. Once the sling was in place, Hattie turned to her and said, “Now we need to decide something.”

  Jenny prepared for the onslaught. Her mother would have ripped her up one side and down the other for any one of the things they’d done today, much less all of them together. Instead, Hattie said, “Dinner. I’m starving, and I reckon you are even worse. We’ll have to do simple. Are hot dogs okay?”

  Jenny nodded, half-expecting “hot dogs” to be some kind of West Virginian code word for the trouble she was in. Instead, Hattie gave her instructions for making coleslaw and started boiling hot dogs. With her free hand, she motioned to the pot and said, “You keep an eye on this. I’m going to call a doctor I know in Branton. Not meaning to slight your healing abilities, but my arm is still busted good. I’ll see if he can come up here and make a house call.”

  “Doctors around here still make house calls?”

  “He will, because I have. I reckon he’ll be glad to have a chance to reciprocate.”

  Jenny took a few moments to mull that over. A doctor called on a witch for help? Certainly not for medical help, right?

  A few minutes later, Hattie returned from making the phone call. She opened a can of finely-ground chili, dumped it in a bowl, and heated it in the microwave. Then she put the hot dogs in buns and poured both the chili and coleslaw on them like condiments.

  Jenny looked at the mess in the buns and back at her aunt. Maybe Hattie’s head injury was worse than she’d thought. “Um, did you mean to do that?” Jenny asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Put the coleslaw on top of the hot dogs?”

  “Of course I did. Didn’t your momma ever fix you West Virginia hot dogs?”

  The idea sounded horrible. “Um, no. Is that even a thing?”

  “Come on, I’ve been to Chicago. They have stranger hot dogs out there.”

  “Maybe, but come on! Coleslaw?”

  “Try it. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it. But ‘round these parts, it’s how you eat a hot dog!”

  Jenny tried. After she got over the strangeness of it, she had to admit it tasted pretty good. Maybe it was simply that she was starving after having skipped lunch, but she ate a second one and enjoyed it even more.

  Afterward, she washed dishes while Hattie offered what help she could with one hand. When Jenny finished, Hattie said, “Doctor ought to be here in about twenty or thirty minutes. That should to be enough time to take a shower and clean up. You are a beautiful young lady, but right now you rightfully look like you’ve been through hell. Don’t volunteer anything for the doctor. He’s smart enough not to ask questions.”

  Jenny waited for the other shoe to drop. Hattie hadn’t said anything about what had happened, and Jenny couldn’t wait any longer. “I’m so sorry. I know this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have agreed to go up into the woods.” Tears came to her eyes as she spoke. “I didn’t know what I was getting into. Everyone could have died and it was my fault.”

  Hattie said nothing. Jenny continued. “I had no idea what I was doing. Then we both got hurt. It was stupid and irresponsible. I just got so excited thinking that Jack needed my help, that I could do something nobody else could. I thought I was invulnerable. I was so wrong.”

  Hattie looked at her sternly. “Jenny?”

  Jenny wiped her eyes and stared at the floor. “Yes?”
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  “My arm really, really hurts. Would you mind getting me a beer out of the fridge and two ibuprofen from the shelf next to the glasses? My doctor friend is probably going to get on my case over it, but I need something while we wait.”

  “Umm… okay.” Jenny found the beer, opened the can and put it and the two pills on the table for Hattie, who downed the pills and half the can in thirty seconds.

  Jenny sat down, still hanging her head down. Hattie stared at her. Jenny looked up. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  Hattie shook her head. “Why? Sounds like you done said it yourself better than I could.”

  “Aren’t you angry?”

  “A little. Mostly I was terrified, and now I’m relieved. Every one of us could have died up on the mountainside today. We’re all pretty lucky to be alive. Now, I ain’t going to fault you for going up there to keep Jack from getting his fool self killed. But, you don’t know what kind of danger you brought on yourself.”

  Jenny looked down, and nodded. “I know. The ogre could have killed me. Should have killed me. I didn’t know what I was doing.” The tears were flowing now, but they were made of more complicated stuff than just sorrow or fear.

  Hattie frowned. “Look, Jenny. I ain’t your mother. I never was a mother. I don’t know how to do this. You look at me, and you see an adult. You see someone trying to finish what your parents started. I’ll do what I can. But when I look at you, I sometimes see my sister. You are different in many ways, but the same in others. Both good and bad. I want to spare you from the bad, if I can. But my first and most important job is to keep you alive. I just ask that you try and keep that from becoming too much of a chore.”

  Jenny sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I don’t see how my mom and I were alike. She was really good at fitting in everywhere, with anyone. I try, but I always zig when I’m supposed to zag.”

  “Is that right?” Hattie pursed her lips together and shook her head. “She wasn’t always like that. She found herself in plenty of trouble growing up. Honestly, compared to her, you’re an angel. Not that I’m encouraging you to be otherwise. I reckon she learned to fit in as a way to camouflage herself and your family. It must have been hard on her.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine her getting into trouble.”

  “I reckon motherhood changes a woman. Especially after what she went through.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hattie raised her good hand and fanned the air. “Never mind that right now. Anyway, my point is I can’t be her. I never knew her plan, if she had one. What I do know is no matter what we do, trouble’s going to find you, like it already has. The best I can do is prepare you.”

  Jenny wiped her eyes again. They stayed dry this time. “How?”

  “I’m going to teach you what I can of old-fashioned Appalachian folk-magic. That ought to keep you busy, at least. I can’t do as good a job as your momma or my momma could, but I’ll do my best. This isn’t a reward. But if you feel inclined to pull something like this again, you should learn how to do it right. Besides, I could use someone to help me out around here.”

  Three days ago, learning witchcraft would have seemed ridiculous. After the terror of the last two days and encountering ghosts and monsters, it sounded like a luxuriously safe and mundane way to spend time with her aunt. “I would love to.”

  “You say that now. Most of it is memorization, repetition, and straight-up practice. And you definitely need the practice. I think the healing you worked on me today left plenty of room for improvement.”

  A tiny smile broke through Jenny’s face. “I’d better get a shower,” she said.

  Hattie nodded and took another drink of her beer.

  After her shower, Jenny collapsed onto her bed. The after-effects of grief and terror and the most physical day of her life ganged up on her. She fell asleep before the doctor arrived.

  Evelyn wasn’t home when Sean returned. Now that the terror had subsided, hunger gnawed at his insides. In spite of Evelyn’s request that he “make himself at home,” he didn’t feel right going through her kitchen looking for something to eat. He dug around his backpack for the dregs of week-old trail mix and a protein bar. As he prepared to take a shower, Sean caught sight of himself in the mirror. The combination of shirtlessness, farmer’s tan, and dirt and grime from the trail made for a ridiculous image.

  After the shower, he collapsed into bed. He started thinking about the house, and Evelyn’s promise, but soon his thoughts, and later his dreams, were full of monsters. In spite of this, he slept soundly through the night.

  The smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs drifting through his door woke Sean late in the morning, and his growling stomach would not allow him another minute of rest. He found his one remaining change of clean clothing, dressed, and entered the dining room to greet Evelyn.

  She made small-talk. The dark circles under her eyes belied her alert manner and light discussion. Happily, she served him brunch, letting him start eating before beginning the interrogation.

  “So Sean, were you involved in that fight last night, with the guns and the dragon-thing?”

  Sean froze with the food on his fork halfway to his mouth. How did she know about all that? Was the snallygaster found? Was there a crowd of people there right now? “Kind of. I mean, I was there.” He shoveled the eggs into his mouth and took his time, pretending to chew.

  She waited between his overly-long bites before she asked, “Who shot it in the head with a shotgun?”

  “Um, a local kid. He’s named Jack.”

  “Interesting. You are lucky he was with you. Who else were you with?”

  “A couple of local girls,” he said, before shoveling in another mouthful of food.

  “Was Hattie Rose there?”

  He nearly choked on the bite. He nodded without thinking, and then added, “Yes. She was hurt, but not too badly.”

  “Two monsters in one day.” Evelyn’s eyes sparkled. “Are you out there looking for trouble?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t mean to.” Feeling defensive, he opened his mouth to explain his actions, but stopped himself and changed the subject. “By the way, what did you do with your ogre?”

  “I found a safe place to hide him away for a while. Someone is going to come and take it away in a few days.”

  “Take it away? Not kill it?”

  “I prefer not to kill, Sean. Besides, it could be useful. Like if another monster comes out of those woods.” Something in how she spoke gave Sean a subtle chill. “But this evening, we’ve got other plans. I trust you’ll be free?”

  Sean shrugged. “What’s up?”

  “I’d like to find out if you truly have the Sight and can see spirits. That is, if you haven’t lost your spine already. Since what you are seeking drove you back into the woods after nearly being eaten by an ogre, I’m going to assume you are not easily dissuaded. Let’s test your abilities.”

  Evelyn brought Sean to a church a few miles outside of Branton. Or at least, it had been a church once, decades earlier. All of the windows had been shattered long ago, and the floor bore signs of more than one party. The roof remained intact, although it sagged in spots, and most of the pews had been cut up for firewood. In broad daylight, it probably seemed sad and pathetic. But in the moonless twilight dim, the old church genuinely creeped Sean out.

  Evelyn unslung a bag from her shoulder, and began setting up six thick, white candles in a wide circle on the floor. She drew lines and squiggly characters between the candles with chalk. She finished just before it grew too dark to see what she was doing. She checked her work with a flashlight, then pulled a long-stemmed lighter from the bag and lit each one of the candles.

  “So what happens now?” Sean asked.

  “Now, you talk to ghosts.”

  “Talk?”

  “You’ll ask them some questions for me. I’m not so gifted with the Sight, but I will call them for you.”

  “How many ghosts are you talking abou
t?”

  “Many. There are a lot of ghosts here.”

  “Why here? What happened here?”

  Evelyn didn’t answer. She stepped carefully into the center of the circle of candlelight, and removed the pins from her brown hair and let it spill out onto her shoulders. Then she recited something in Spanish. He recognized a few words, like espíritu and los vivos, but little of it even sounded like contemporary Spanish. As she finished, she seemed illuminated by a faint blue glow.

  “You shouldn’t be here!” a sharp voice scolded behind him. Sean whirled to see a man in an olive three-piece suit with stringy long hair. His beak of a nose bore an inverted forest of hairs that might never have been trimmed. And there was something strange with his eyes. They didn’t reflect the light like real eyes should. Except a hint of violet.

  Another figure emerged. This was a dark-haired girl, fifteen at most, wearing a navy blue dress with white polka dots and large white collars. “You’d better get going now, before he gets you!” she said.

  “See anything yet?” Evelyn asked.

  Sean nodded, his gaze darting between the two forms. A third appeared, a half-bald man with ratty clothes and a scraggly beard. He spoke, not to Sean, but to himself. “I should have listened,” the man moaned. “Now, I’m stuck.”

  “Can you hear them?” Evelyn asked.

  “Yeah. They don’t seem happy.”

  “Happy people don’t leave ghosts behind. Now, talk to them.”

  “About what?”

  “I need to know where Annabelle Rose is.”

  “I thought she was dead!”

  “Then talk to her ghost if you see it.” She glared at Sean. “If she is dead, find out where her remains are. One of these ghosts knows what happened to her.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  Sean turned to face the ghosts. They’d become distracted, milling about. The dark-haired girl sat on the rotten remains of a pew, clutching at the hem of her dress. Sean stepped toward her and knelt down to be as nonthreatening as possible. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Annabelle Rose. Do you know her?”