Authors: Geof Johnson
Melanie gave Fred a grateful smile, then nudged Nova’s shoulder. “You never told us what your talent is, if you have one.”
Nova took a while to answer, as if she were debating whether or not to tell them. Finally she said, “I write a little. Short stories and stuff. More poetry than anything.”
“Poetry?” Melanie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d love to read some.”
“Unh unh.”
“Why not?”
“It’s...kinda personal. And it’s a little dark, too.”
“What, like suicidal dark?”
“No, not that bad, just...dark.”
“Did you ever publish any, or post any online?” Nova didn’t answer, and Melanie nudged her again. “You did, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“You’re lying. I can tell.”
“Hey, I’m the one with that power.”
“I bet we can search online and find some of your stuff,” Melanie said.
Nova held out both hands, palms facing away from her. “Hold on. Before you do that, let me go through some of my stuff and pick something out for you, something less Emily Dickinson-ish.”
Melanie sat back and pulled up one corner of her lip. “Oh, my. That’s dark.”
“You familiar with Dickinson?”
“Of course, but...oh well. At least you have a talent. I think I’m the only one around here who doesn’t.”
“Bryce doesn’t, either,” Fred said. “Maybe that’s why you two get along so well.”
The room became painfully quiet again, until Nova suddenly turned to face Fred. “That video we just saw was from the Young American Talent Search? I watched the finals on TV. You were good enough to win, I think.”
“Huh?” Fred blinked, surprised by Nova’s abrupt change of topic. “Thanks, uh...there wasn’t much chance of me winning, since I was chained to a bed in Louisiana. Rita and Cassandra saw a recording of that performance I just showed you, and that’s how they found out about me. They came here and kidnapped me.”
“Hunh? There’s nothing on that video that suggests that you’re a witch.”
“No, but they did a scrying, and it somehow pointed them to that show. They got the scrying spell from Momma Sue.”
Nova crossed her arms and frowned at her knees. “Do you really think I should go meet that voodoo queen? I mean, it’s going to be really weird, isn’t it? I don’t know if I want to go.”
“You don’t have to be scared of her or Mrs. Malley. She’ll probably be there, too. It’s fascinating to visit them. Sammi’s already been, and she loved it. I learn a lot when I go there, and you would, too, if you went. You don’t know how to do any spells yet, do you?”
Nova pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. “Never had anybody to teach me. My mom tried to show me how to do the Tarot cards and stuff, but that seems so...I dunno...bogus.”
“Momma Sue is the real deal,” Fred said. “She knows more about witchin’ than anybody, except for maybe Mrs. Malley. Put the two of them together, and you have a veritable encyclopedia of witch knowledge.”
“So why does she teach you?”
“She and Mrs. Malley think it’s important to train young witches right, otherwise they might try some spells they really shouldn’t be doing, and people could get hurt. Plus, Momma Sue wants to instill the right ethics of witchcraft in us.”
Nova scrunched up her nose as if something smelled funny. “Ethics? Witchin’ has ethics?”
“Well, sure. Momma Sue and Mrs. Malley say that a witch’s role is to help people, not hurt them.”
“What about those two witches who kidnapped you? Don’t sound too helpful to me.”
“No, they misused the voodoo doll that Momma Sue gave them, and she was hot to punish them.But Jamie banished them to that other world, first.”
“Was Momma Sue going to kill them?”
“No, but she can do things to you that are a lot worse than death. She can put a world of hurt on a witch that crosses her.”
“Now I
know
I don’t want to go see her.”
Fred patted Nova’s knee. “Relax. Momma Sue won’t hurt you. Neither will Mrs. Malley. You’re one of the good guys.”
“How do you know that? I could be the wickedest witch ever, for all you know.”
“No, you’re not,” Melanie said. “Sammi would know.” Melanie gave Nova’s other knee a reassuring pat. “And I’m sure you’ll like both of those ladies. I met them at the school-building party in Rivershire, and I had met Mrs. Malley before, during spring break.” She nodded once. “When we were staying on Eddan’s world and Jamie fixed her eyes. Bryce figured out that she had cataracts, and Jamie used his magic to clear them up.”
Nova turned to look at Melanie, then she stared straight ahead again and fingered one earlobe. “Another world...I still find that hard to believe. Is that for real, with aliens and stuff, or are you just pulling my leg?”
“It’s definitely a different world, but there aren’t any aliens, just people like us.”
“I know, you told me they’re from Ireland and Scotland or whatever, but...
pssh
.” She gave her head a tight shake. “That’s pretty wild, when you think about it.”
“You can get a quick look at it today, if you want. Maybe when Jamie makes a doorway for Sammi and the others to come home, we can go for a little tour.”
“But it doesn’t look all that different,” Melanie said. “Except that they dress really old-fashioned and ride horses and carriages and stuff. They don’t have any modern things like electricity and cars or whatever.”
Nova nodded slowly. “That sounds kinda nice, actually.”
“It is,” Fred said. “We’ll take you there really soon, if you want. But first you need to go see Momma Sue.”
“No, first I gotta go to Sammi’s birthday party. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” Nova suddenly sat upright, pulled her phone out of her back pocket and checked the time. “You think Rollie’s home yet? I feel like shootin’ some hoops.”
Fred blinked rapidly again
. Boy, she’s all over the place
. “Um, I think he’s still at work. Won’t get home ’til around dinnertime.”
“Hmph. Well, maybe after the party on Saturday. I’ll bring my basketball shoes. You tell him to be ready.”
* * *
“Dammit!” Duane Gundy roared and kicked the garbage that was strewn at his feet. He was in his small, junk-crowded garage, sorting through trash bags he’d swiped from Luke and Libby’s house after they’d set their big plastic bin by the street. It was late and he was tired, and he’d found nothing among the banana peels and coffee grounds and credit card offers. Not a hint as to where Sammi might be.
Libby’s her best friend. Why won’t Sammi write to her?
He leaned back against the wooden shelf behind him and pulled a pack of Marlboros from his top pocket, but paused when he heard the door to the kitchen open and saw his wife step out.
“Duane? Are you okay?”
“Fine and dandy,” he grumbled and put a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with a flick of his Bic. “Just peachy.” He drew a deep toke and held it for a couple of seconds before exhaling.
Her eyebrows drew down when she saw the garbage scattered on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m sorting through trash.”
“Did you throw away something important?”
“Not our trash, stupid. Luke and Libby’s trash.” She looked at him vacantly and he felt like slapping her. “I’m looking for a letter or somethin’ from Sammi. She’s not been calling Libby, far as I can tell, so she must be writin’ to her.”
“How do you know she’s not calling her?”
“’Cause I been listenin’ to their calls with my damn scanner! God, you are dense.”
A hurt look crossed her eyes and she said, “You don’t have to be so mean. Uh...have you been sitting outside their house all this time?”
“Past few nights, I have. That’s why I been usin’ your car, so they won’t know it’s me. Their daddy would shoot me if he found out.”
“Is that why you haven’t been getting up in time for work?”
“Damn, you’re a regular Sherlock freakin’ Holmes, aren’t you?”
“Duane, you’re going to get fired if you keep going to work late.”
He took another leisurely drag from his cigarette and blew it out in several smoke rings. “Don’t care. Finding Sammi’s more important.”
“But what if we can’t make the car payments? They’re due at the end of the month.”
“You think I don’t know that? Now get out of here, you’re startin’ to piss me off.”
“But Duane, if you —”
“Dammit, Brenda!” He grabbed a small paint can from the shelf beside him and cocked his arm back, but she bolted back through the kitchen door before he could throw it.
Chapter 13
Rachel was gathering up the kids on Thursday morning at the Rivershire School to go outside and play when Aiven pointed and said, “Mrs. Sikes, there’s someone here.” Rachel looked across the room to see a slim young woman standing at the end of the front hallway. She wore a long, dark dress and her hands were squeezed tightly together at her waist, her face stiff, her gaze darting about the room.
“Can I help you?” Rachel asked.
The woman took a second to respond, and then she cleared her throat and said, “I came...I am here to apply for the teaching position. Is it still available?”
“Oh. Of course. Hold on.” Rachel turned and searched for her mother, and found her at the back corner, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through a large cardboard box. “Mom? Can you take the kids outside? There’s someone here to apply for the teaching job and I need to talk to her.”
Evelyn left with the kids and Rachel introduced herself to the stranger, whose name was Shauna Duffy. The young woman couldn’t seem to keep her blue-gray eyes off of the spinning ceiling fans and the fluorescent lights. “That is amazing,” she said softly.
“Everybody seems to think so at first, but you get used to them pretty fast.” Rachel gestured broadly with one hand. “Let me give you a quick tour before we get down to business.”
Rachel showed her the entire facility, and Miss Duffy was clearly awed by the television. Her eyes widened appreciatively when she saw the restrooms. “My, this is a wonderful convenience.”
“Jamie wants this school to be as modern as possible, considering the circumstances.”
“Jamie the Sorcerer?”
“Yes. He’s my son. He’s the one who’s responsible for all of this.”
Miss Duffy folded her lips into her mouth and surveyed the room again. “It is most impressive. I have heard that it is much nicer than the school in Paulsbury.”
“Jamie wants the local children to have the best education possible.” She led the slim woman to one of the long tables and gestured at the chairs. “Let’s have a seat and you can tell me about yourself.”
They took their places across from each other and Miss Duffy looked around again before turning back to Rachel. Rachel took the opportunity to size her up. She looked like Brinna, only thinner, with the same long, light brown hair that was so common in Rivershire, tied back with a ribbon.
“What are your qualifications?” Rachel asked. “Have you taught before?”
Miss Duffy took a deep breath before answering. “I am currently teaching at the Fullers’ household. I am the full-time tutor for their three children, but I have always dreamed of working in a proper school. Tutoring is a tenuous occupation, because the children grow older and your services are no longer needed.”
“Well, to be honest, we don’t know how this school is going to work out. We don’t know how many kids will end up coming here and we don’t know if they’ll stick with it. A lot of these kids live on farms, and their parents need them to work. We have to do a lot of persuading to convince them to let us have their children for a few hours, five days a week.”
“It is only five? I have to teach every day at my present posting.”
“We’re modeling this school after the ones on my world. I teach in a school there.”
Miss Duffy stared at her for a moment with her lips slightly parted. Then she leaned forward and said quietly, “Is it true what people are saying? Is there really another Earth?”
I’ve been hearing that a lot lately
. “Yes, it’s true. Maybe we can show you sometime, if we can get Jamie to make a doorway for you.”
“He is a most powerful sorcerer, I am told.”
“He is, but he’s a good boy, too. I’m very proud of him. He still does his chores with only a little bit of complaining.”
Her mouth fell open again. “Jamie the Sorcerer does chores?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He has to keep his room neat and help clean up the kitchen and take out the trash.” Rachel nodded once. “And mow the grass and other stuff.”
Miss Duffy stared at her incredulously. “But...but he is an all-powerful sorcerer, is he not?”
“He’s still my son and he has to do his share around the house. It’s the way he was raised. It’s the way I was raised, too. My mom — that’s the lady you just met — she doesn’t put up with laziness, and I don’t, either.”
“Is he the headmaster of this school?”
“Oh no. We don’t really have one yet. We’re making decisions as a group. Jamie, me, my mom, and my aunt, who’s not here today because she has a doctor’s appointment.”
“Who does the hiring here?”
“I can do it, but first I need to know your qualifications. What can you teach, and how long have you been teaching?”
Miss Duffy cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “I can teach reading and writing, Latin, mathematics, music, and art, and I have been at my present post for almost two years.”
“When you say music and art, what do you mean?”
“I can teach the violin and flute, but most of these children probably cannot afford to purchase instruments, so I would teach them singing, if you were you to hire me. I am a watercolor artist, but I would most likely teach them basic drawing. They would not be able to afford the painting materials, I believe.”
“Don’t worry about that. The school would pay for that stuff. We have a budget for equipment and supplies, as well as for teachers’ salaries.”
“Is it true that Master Jamie is paying for all of that? And the clinic, too?” Miss Duffy glanced past Rachel toward the windows on the other wall and the two-story medical facility beyond.
“Yes, but he really hates to be called
master
.”
“It is a sign of respect.”