A Witch's Curse (10 page)

“
There’s a lot you don’t know about me. First things first, why did you write that stupid article in the paper? Don’t you know it’s embarrassing for all three of us?”

“
Maybe for you,” he spat. “You’re the one who used to be like me and Melinda. You were cool, Rose. Now look at you. You’re going out with the worst boy of all, Grady, a typical jock.”

“
Don’t try to turn this into something about my standing at this school. If you liked me that much, you should’ve made it clear.”

“
When haven’t I?”

“
Every time you’ve hit on me it’s been in a joking way, or at least that’s what I thought. Some girls dig guys being goofy when flirting, but in my case, I just took it as a form of kidding around. If you were so passionate about me that you felt the need to put me and my boyfriend’s name in print through slander, then you should’ve told me. Instead, you decided to not act like a man and go the journalistic route of dragging my name through the mud. Nice job.”

“
You’re welcome,” he spat.

“
The only reputation you’ve really ruined, though, is your own. Since I’m dating Grady, there’s a chance my popularity will go up, whereas you’ll only be known as the guy who pined for the girl who was taken by someone much more well liked.”

“
Stop it,” he said.

“
It’s true.”

The bell rang. Neither one moved for the door, knowing there was no chance they were going to get to run away until both had made their opinions clear.

“
No!” James almost screamed the word out. “I mean of all people, Grady Bell?”

“
He asked me out like a gentleman.”

“
Now you’re like all the rest,” James said, his voice raising. “You started out enjoying being different from the crowd. Sure, people called you names. You were labeled unpopular, introverted, sometimes shy, even a witch. Yet no one could ever say that you were unoriginal. And now you’re striving to be with someone who’s like every other gas station worker? It seems like a sick joke.”

“
It’s hypocritical of you,” Rose said. “For your information, he’s loaded with money. And let’s not change the matter here. If you could, you’d go out with the three cheerleaders you know I hate. I’ve seen you flirt with them like you were some kind of dirty old man. By the way, you’re pick up lines are some of the most pathetic I’ve heard.”

“
You’re being intolerable,” he said. “It must be jock itch rubbing off on you.”

“
Oh yeah? Well, I’m not the one so enamored with somebody I can’t have.”

James paused for a second. It was the quietest he had ever been since she had gotten to know him years ago. He lowered his head, before finally putting his face into his hands, as if he were about to start crying. Rose really thought he was about to shed tears. A pang of guilt suddenly hit her.

Since when did my relationship with a close friend become so volatile?

“
I’m sorry, James. You know, I hope you can hear me out and believe me when I say that maybe I over reacted to your article. Please don’t take any of the things I said personally.”

She put her hand on his shoulder while he was sobbing. Not a lot, but he was only releasing a few smalls tears, and in no time he caught his breath and looked up at her.

“
No,” James said. “I’m sorry, Rose. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“
What do you say we get a shake or something at Sharp’s Diner after school, and make it up to each other? This will all be in the past.”

“
So am I,” Rose said. “I mean, this custodian’s closet isn’t the nicest one I’ve ever seen, but-”

“
You don‘t understand,” James said, holding her hand gently. “I’m jealous. Do you know what I am saying?”

Rose looked at him for a quick second, absorbing what it had been he was trying to tell her.

“
Well, you still can’t have me. You know that, right?”

“
Of course. I’m over it anyways. I’ll delete what I wrote from the school’s website soon as I get to a computer.”

“
That would mean the world to me. It’d help all of us out.”

“
And let’s still go get milkshakes, what do you say?”

“
Sounds good,” she said while opening the door. They both walked out of the front, moving away from the storeroom. A calming silence, this time a positive one, fell over them.

Rose turned to him. “Again, this isn’t a date, right?”

During the hour break she met Grady in the cafeteria, who made sure to sit down in the very back. This was a deliberate move on her boyfriend’s part, so as to allow them some measure of privacy, where they could converse whilst being out of earshot. Rose tried to pretend like everything was normal, eating an orange slice from a zip loc bag that she had prepared in the morning, but it was only two minutes into them having met before he decided to discuss just what they had been through.

It had begun to rain. Perspiration and small particles of water clung to the glass walls, ones providing a view of the charcoal hued woods outside.

“
I think we should talk about last night,” Bell said.

“
What is there to talk about?” Rose asked, leaning in towards him.

“
No. In the graveyard.”

“
Oh.” She opened up her cranberry soda, trying to enjoy the flavor enough so as to get her mind off of the topic.

“
What were those things?”

She shrugged. “Nerve endings firing off at the wrong time in unsuitable ways. Byproducts of our imagination. You‘ve heard in Science class what adrenaline can do to the mind.”

“
I don’t knows about yours, but my fantasy life has always been pretty bland. I’m not capable of visualizing something so vividly that it walks, breathes, and maintains detailed looks right in front of me. Usually, they evaporate the way figures in dreams do.”

“
Apparently you don’t know yourself that well.”

“
So you’re saying we imagined the same thing at the same time?”

“
How do you know that what you saw is what I did?”

“
Well, explain to me what you were a witness of.”

“
Maybe I could’ve observed a gigantic crimson rhinoceros making out with a sewer pipe.”

He gave her a blank look.

“
It’s called free association, Grady. Look, I’m just kidding. I saw the skeletons as well. Hey, I loved your letter this morning. It was beautiful to wake up to.”

Her attempt at changing the conversation proved unfruitful, for he brushed what she had proclaimed aside.

“
So, we both saw the same thing with our own eyes. Isn’t that a little strange?”

“
Someone must have slipped something into that soda we were drinking,” Rose said, trying to sound serious enough to believe the lie herself. “That‘s the only cogent explanation. We hear about it all the time in the warning video‘s that we see in Health. I‘m guessing that someone slipped acid in our soda‘s.”

“
We hardly drank any of it,” he responded. “Like, two sips each before you spilled it on my coat.”

“
Sorry about that. It must have been powerful, is what I‘m saying. Two sips is more than enough to make two people trip out. At least, that‘s what I‘ve read.”

“
If I ever find out who drugged us, I’m going to kill them.”

Rose nodded, feeling good after having convinced him of her story.

“
I want to see you again. We should have another date, and we’ll do it right this time. We’ll bring our own Cokes. How does Sunday sound? I have a game on Monday, so I’ll be busy then. Maybe you can see me play?”

“
Absolutely,” she said with a smile. “Sunday it is. Here’s my phone number.”

A half hour after school, James and Rose were sitting in the diner, overwhelmingly pleased to be out of the storm. The inside of the eatery was typical to the outdated fifties era - red leather booths, white and black floor tiles, lamps made of iron hanging by chains from the ceiling, immaculately white counter tops and unlabelled ketchup bottles, pictures of Buddy Holly and Chuck Berry playing their vintage guitars were hung on the walls, and an indigo lit juke box in front of what appeared to be a concession stand, one begging to be fed money by any person with quarters who enjoyed the oldies. All of the waitresses wore poodle skirts, and the male bartenders donned leather jackets.

Cherry colored curtains were draped over the windows, but on this evening they were rolled up, giving them a perfect vision of the dampened lot outside, where there were two vintage 1957 Chevrolet’s parked outside in order to attract visitors. They had both ordered strawberry shakes.

When they were finished with their early desserts, they stepped outside. The realm of the out of print was only two blocks away, and she reasoned her vehicle would be safe in this space - the crazy, tranquil and meditative part of her felt like sojourning through the gale. Rose was not really equipped to walk into a downpour, but she was going to do it anyways. Lake Pines was such a town that there were generally lots of shelter anywhere there were rows of businesses, and thankfully the jurisdiction possessed plenty of those.

James turned to her. “We’re good?”

“
Of course,” she said.

They hugged, and went their separate ways. It was time to visit Alexis Harvey.

Walking into Miss Harvey’s shop, the first thing she noticed was how different everything was from the way it had been before. A few books were arranged in odd shapes. One stack had been built on a table, and it swiveled sideways, resembling an L. Rose had come to expect altercations of the physical look of the bookstore, since it was not uncommon for it to change in some way every month. The peculiar thing was how the shelves had been painted a different color, light instead of a dark brown.

Alexis was nowhere.

Rose put her backpack on the floor, and then walked to the other end of the room, where there was a door leading to the underground part of the market. She knocked on it twice, before opening it and switching on a light connected to a wire. The sudden illumination revealed the staircase leading to the basement.

“
Who is it?” Alexis had a voice which flew across the air like an acidic venom, for she probably suspected some kind of an intruder was barging in on her personal space.

“
It’s just me, Ms. Harvey.”

“
Oh, Rose, I’m glad you’re here. I was just thinking about you. Feel free to come on down. I’m rearranging some things.”

“
I can see that,” Rose said, making her way down the steps, being careful after hearing the loud creaking that her body’s pressure was applying to the wooden and antediluvian flight. When she reached the subterranean vault, she bore witness to Alexis literally carrying a box bigger than her full of paperbacks and hard covers alike. She set the massive package on the concrete floor, and reached for a book. It was Marcia Davenport’s The Valley of Decision.

“
Your sleep walking potion didn’t work,” Rose said.

Alexis stopped what she was doing and stared at her.

“
It’s never happened again,” she continued. “The sleep walking, I mean. Yet the drink did nothing except hydrate me for the night.”

Alexis looked at her with a gaze of confusion.

“
Yet something else strange happened. One out of this world, quite literally.”

She felt odd knowing that this was the first time all day when she was going to acknowledge that what her and Grady had seen was not actually a myth brought about by their deceiving or warped senses, but rather an actual a tangible happening.

“
Speak, child.”

“
I saw a family of the undead walking around last night in the graveyard. Well-” Rose was about to spill out the words me and a boy, but stopped herself, afraid of the response she may get from her mentor.

“
Where?”

“
The graveyard,” Rose said quickly, hoping that her own lack of enthusiasm behind the description would somehow inspire not as much alarm.

“
What were you doing there? I thought I had expressly taught you at one point that only black magicians perform rituals in such a place. You haven’t turned on me now, have you? You’re not trying to cast more curses, right?”

“
Of course not, Ms. Harvey. I was there because I had just gotten out of a late night study hall, and the cemetery is a nice short cut to get home. It may be trespassing, but it saves me a lot of time.”

The notion of her signing up for a group where her and other teens she barely knew would congregate after school and work on academic studies was not plausible, but thankfully Alexis fell for it.

“
Oh, that’s not good.” Harvey was pacing nervously now, wringing her hands together and wiping sweat from her brow. “My dear, pull a chair out, the one from the corner. I get the feeling we need to talk.”

Rose did so, and upon sitting down she stared at Alexis to find the affectionate and wise old witch very lost in her own thoughts.

“
I should have known,” she said. “Or at least guessed.”

“
What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

She shook her head, placing her hands on her lap and releasing a deep breath. “It is written in every ancient text that the cadavers who sojourn here in the night are both symbols and omens. Firstly, they represent never ending strife. They are incapable of partaking in eternal slumber.”