Chapter 23: Text Me When You’re Ready

When the period was over, Teresa went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face. The morning had been tough. Seeing Brandi disappear from on the bus and then reappear in front of the school, some twenty minutes later, was almost daunting. But then Stephanie had prepared her for it. Told her to collect some soil samples because it meant that somehow her friend was only getting stronger. She rubbed moisturizer into her palms and then onto her face. The last thing she needed was to age rapidly on account of Brandi, who once again had refused to listen. She lifted her head closer to the mirror trying to spot blemishes. Finding none, she did a rinse and repeat, hoping that she was up for what came next.

She glared into the mirror, thinking about Stephanie, who was big into hexes and witches and their family’s traditional mumbo jumbo. Initially her older sister had told her that they were going to scare Brandi. Now it seemed, she was trying to make her summon her father. She closed her eyes, remembering the scene from Macbeth that Stephanie had shown her. How her mother and Brandi’s father had been made to take part. She didn’t really think that it was possible. But then again, what did she know? She held her head in her hands, trying not to think about how others saw her. A Junior Achiever. She sulked. Someone a few steps away from being considered a nerd. Her lip caught between her teeth as she remembered her mother.

Before her mother had disappeared, she had tried to show her daughter a few things. Reciting an incantation from the spellbook, where and how to find herbs. Remedies. How to collect and use different elements. She opened her fist, letting the image float away on a puff of smoke. Wondering why she had been so dumb. So rebellious. With her more important thinks like band, soccer and her movie dates with Brandi. Now though, it seemed like she was learning everything by force, something the music teacher had assured her was ideal for performers, especially since most of the greats had been discovered when they were still quite young. Although she didn’t consider herself, in the same frame as Mozart.

After washing out the moisturizer bottle, she filled it with water. Then she placed it into her bag, which also contained clumps of soil, she had taken from Brandi’s place that morning. Opening a chewing gum wrapper, she shoved the gum into her mouth. Brandi couldn’t stop her. Even if she tried. Leaning closer to the sink, she shook the can of aerosol. It would have to be enough to light the fire. She flickered her wrist and pointed. A small window opened. Hopefully the same incantation, which she had used during World Literature, would also come in handy during detention.

Teresa fingered the detention slip, glibly, knowing that it was something she would never have courted. Because before today, the only list she had wanted to be on was the school’s top ten academic achievers. The doors swished behind her and the charms flickered on her wrist. She could control the wind. The air, she told herself, trying unsuccessfully to contain a smile. She pulled her cellphone out of her side pocket almost ready to dial the now familiar number. But waited, picturing her sister.

Through the glass, she could almost see Stephanie’s stern features. The young woman seemed to have everything worked out. Not that Teresa needed to know all the details. She fiddled with a paper towel, dropping it into the trash. Dead Man Walking had been one of those movies that she had skipped, along with Thriller and the Shining. She grabbed hold of the sink. It was now or never.

Opening the phone, she wished that her mother had warned her against all of this. Warned her that helping out would make her feel more and more bleak. Like something was dying inside of her. And something else was taking its place. She coughed. Wiped blood from her lips. Then she tapped a few keys, until the message box appeared. “It’s all clear here,” she wrote. “Just text me when you need me.” No. She erased the words. Began again. “It’s all clear. Text me, when you’re ready.”

Chapter Nine – the Trouble with Teresa

It was one thing when your best friend told you that she wanted to possess special powers. And another when you started to believe her.

Not that Teresa had been naive or gullible. Usually on April Fool’s she was the one person who failed to be duped. The old whoopee cushion trick could get no rise from her. Neither could the false messages of school closing or no homework. Because whatever it was she had learned to stare the perpetrator in the face and tell that they had been lying.

But with Brandi, it had been different. A bit of wishful thinking that she had been almost certain, would amount to nothing more than a few incidents of trust, here and there. Like at the restaurant. But that had gone wrong. Because the man with the red cap had made a few alterations and changed things. History.

She took a seat on the sand, slowly, trying to wrap her mind around everything that she had learnt from her mother; her fingers touching the sports bracelet on her arm. She was useless when it came to soccer. But aikido and kendo proved more versatile; showing up her skills and mental tenacity. Her ability to think ahead and more – something thankfully that didn’t require the movement of a ball.

“You have been chosen,” those were the words that her mother had uttered a year ago and although she had not known what it meant. Somehow, she now knew that she was different. But after that, her mother had mysteriously disappeared and Teresa had been trying her best to get another hold on her – to find out as much as she could from the town’s archives and the local library that seemed to possess newspaper print going back for centuries. She had gotten glimpses of her, a school girl making a row with an errant banker, who had decided to take away her family home. A lost love, who had been sent away and cursed because she refused to give up her powers. And then there were the suspicions of her as being a witch.

Teresa pulled her toes out the water and squealed. This should have had nothing to do with her, she thought, letting the charm bracelet echo in the wind. She didn’t want anything to do with Brandi Daniels, she thought, even though they had once been friends. Even though by the look of things, somehow they still were. She bared her teeth and bit into her arm, trying to tell the difference between what was real and what was fake. Because friends didn’t hurt friends. Didn’t turn on you and make you feel misplaced. Especially when it came to boys.

She closed her eyes, thinking back to the diner and how she had seen them together. Surely there was nothing going on between Brandi and Roger, she told herself, even though her mother had now filled her with some nagging predictions. They could be together, she seemed to be saying and there’s nothing that you can do about it.

Teresa closed her fist and beat the sand, hoping that the infected eggs had done the trick and tonight her friend would see to reason as the clock ran out. But then, she knew that like her, it would be hard for Brandi to face the truth and Teresa watched her arm go up and down. The sound of the bracelet filling her with an eerie sense of calm that seemed to relax her. She pushed strands of hair back and sat up, watching her reflection as though she was reading pages from a book. She should be tested. Or made to see…

Reason. Teresa looked into the water as though it was a huge cauldron and needed a spin. She still didn’t have enough strength for that, so she took a deep breath and formed a smaller pool in the sand – thinking about the party tonight and the possibility of going to the dance.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Stephanie asked, appearing out of nowhere. Teresa shrank back, not wanting to infuriate her. Shielding her eyes with her hands, she looked across at her, from her position further inland, watching as she ambled closer.

Her sister’s face didn’t waver and Teresa wondered how she could be so young, when she was supposed to have been a few years older. Standing up, she dusted her hands in her pants. “I was only clearing my head. Preparing myself for the task at hand,” Teresa said, her eyes down cast. “What’s the plan?”

“It’s all on a need to know basis I’m afraid,” her sister said, flashing her a warm smile. “And right now you really don’t need to know.”

Teresa bit her lip and looked down at her shoes, wondering why there was this need for secrecy when they were already joined. She thought of the pact they had made to rescue their mother and looked down at the scar on her arm, where the stray arrow had grazed her. Heat surged through her body just thinking about it because she was never one to make sacrifices for loved on, except that Stephanie had been insistent. Showing her the three witches who had bound her mother and would deliver her, if only she could deliver Brandi and Roger.

She pulled down the sleeve of her sweater, imagining the pink baby doll dress that they had already picked. Something to “die for,” according to Stephanie. But she hoped it wouldn’t go so far. Brandi had been a friend to her and this thing with Roger was probably nothing more than hormones, she told herself, thinking of how it had been with Spooner. How being with him had seemed to make all of her dreams come true.

“Snap out of it,” Stephanie said, splashing her with water.

She shrieked, gazing and uncurled tendrils of hair. “I said I would help, you don’t have to baptize me.” She said, got to her feet and grabbed her duffle.

“Good.” Stephanie yanked her by the arm. “It’s good to know that you’ve remained compliant.” Teresa gave her a peculiar look, like the one at the library. The day she had decided to show up, even after they had been separated for more than three. No, maybe just absent. Or missing.

“So that’s all you require of me?” she asked, watching the slim card with the picture of the luxurious hummer. “To act like a mode of transport?”

Stephanie shook her head in the affirmative, transformed her younger sister’s clothes with a slight twirl. “Yes, be beautiful and friendly, but get her where she needs to go.”

“All right,” Teresa said, as if she’d heard this many times before. “I’ll get Cinderella to the ball, you and the messenger do what you have to do to warn her – but it better not be like last time.”

Stephanie raised her hands in the air and smiled. “Surely you have forgiven me for that accident. And not tonight, there won’t be another slip.” Teresa looked at her as though she believed her. As though her friend’s life still meant something. And then she remembered her mother, surrounded by the three witches like with Macbeth as they promised him things. Perhaps, there was no other choice. No other way. She sighed.

Turning away from the thunderous waves, she watched as the stretch limo appeared and thought that she could keep her audience waiting, deal or no deal. Pact or no pact.