Awakening (Book One of The Geis) (24 page)

I knew Star Valley got a lot of snow, but I didn’t realize how fast winter could come, or how much snow could fall in one day. By lunchtime there were at least six inches on the ground, and it was still coming. My old school would have closed down for the day during a blizzard like this, but no one seemed fazed by the storm here.

I looked for Josh at every class break, but he must have been doing a good job of avoiding me. Christa shrugged when I asked how Josh was at lunch. I walked to my locker.

My phone rang. I grabbed for it, ducking out of view of the office. Only my mom would be calling me during school.

“McKayla, where are you?” It wasn’t Mom—it was Aunt Avril.

“I’m at school. Why are you calling me?” She mumbled something that I couldn’t understand. “Aunt Avril, what’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid that I have some bad news. Do you remember Mrs. Saddlebury’s neighbor, Betsy?”

“Betsy the busy-body?” I asked.

Aunt Avril didn’t laugh. “She won’t be busy anymore. Betsy is dead.”

I stared, unseeing, through the crowded hallway.

“Can you come and get me?” I asked Aunt Avril when she had finished telling me that Betsy’s death was just like the others—no visible cause of death. We knew better.

“No. Stay at school and go to dance, or whatever you have going on, like usual. The last thing we need is to let the banshee know that we are aware of her.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I need to call and speak with Betsy’s husband. I’ll let you know what I find.”

Christa and I were supposed to meet at her house after school to catch up on math homework, but I didn’t really want to run into Josh right now. “Aunt Avril, let me go with you. I can get a feel for what’s going on.”

“Absolutely not. The banshee wants all of us dead, remember? You be on the lookout. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

The rest of my classes dragged on. I couldn’t concentrate. I kept picturing Betsy, with her quick smile and taste for gossip. How could she be dead? She must have gotten a little too nosy. A chill fluttered down my spine. I didn’t want to be in school—I wanted to be with Aunt Avril, figuring out what was going on. It was frustrating, not being able to do anything.

Christa’s mom picked us up so we didn’t have to walk home in the snow. Josh stayed at school for practice. I stared out the window. Just when I thought things were going well, I had to go and upset Josh. There wasn’t time for awkward moments. We had to get Rourke home and stop the banshee’s plan to eliminate my family. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice Christa’s frosty attitude toward me until we were in her room.

“Listen to this one.” I rolled over on Christa’s oversized beanbag and swatted her with a magazine. “Is your crush ready for love?”

Christa looked up from the desk where she had her homework spread out, and gave me a blank look. My homework sat in my backpack, untouched.

I read Christa the first question in the love quiz. “When you text him, he: a-doesn’t answer until the next day, b-types until his thumbs must be sore, c-answers with TTYL.”

“Derek doesn’t text.” Christa turned back to her homework.

“Ok, what’s up?” I leaned forward so I could see Christa’s face.

She rolled her eyes. “You really don’t know?”

“I’m sorry, Christa. I don’t know what to think.”

Christa shrugged, taking the magazine from me. She ran her finger down the page until she found a question. “The best thing about him is: a-his eyes, they make me want to melt, b-his designer clothes, where does he shop? or c-he is so easy to talk to.”

Josh’s green eyes filled my vision. I shook my head. “Eyes, for sure.”

“Here’s a good one.” Christa leaned forward over her knees. “When he talks to you he calls you: a-using the nickname your friends gave you, b-a pet name that he made up, just for you, c-by your first name, at least you think he did once.” Christa laughed. “Do you remember when Lucas called you McKenzie?”

“I’m trying to forget about that, ok?” I snatched at the magazine. Christa squealed and almost fell off her chair.

“You need to figure out what’s going on with you and Josh.” Christa’s face was serious.

“Nothing is going on with me and Josh.” I blushed. Christa raised her eyebrows.

I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling fan. Ribbons hung from the light, and they spun as the fan whirled around. Someone played the piano downstairs. The song was fast and intense—the melody marched through a sequence of furious rhythms.

“Who plays the piano?” I asked.

“That’s Josh. He mostly just plays when he is upset.” I could feel Christa watching me. “Mom and Dad make us all take the piano until we are in junior high, but Josh still plays. He’s the best out of all of us.”

“I didn’t know Josh could play the piano.” Josh wasn’t that great at the banjo, but listening to him playing the piano, it was obvious that he had talent.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about Josh.” Christa said it quietly. Her tone of voice caught my attention.

“Like what things?” I asked.

Christa came to sit, cross-legged, in front of me on the floor. I sat up.

“Like, do you know why he got suspended from school last month?”

“He got in a fight with Lucas.”

“Yes, but do you know why?”

“Because that’s what guys do?”

“After you went out with Lucas, he said that you let things get a little crazy.”

“What?” I stammered.

“He said you let him touch your—”

My stomach lurched. “I did not!”

“I know. Josh heard Lucas say it, so he decked him. They were in phys. ed. and the principal suspended him. Josh made me promise not to tell you.”

My stomach fluttered. I had known that there was more to Josh getting suspended than he let on, but this threw a whole new light on things. “Does everyone at school know?”

“Pretty much, but don’t worry, it’s old news now.”

The piano song changed keys, and Josh’s fingers pounded out his frustration.

A memory surfaced of Josh holding me as my house burned with Zoey inside. I thought of Josh sucking helium and pretending to be scared, then taking on a banshee to protect me.

“I have to talk to him.” I jumped up.

“Right now?” Christa looked nervous.

I checked my reflection in the mirror and caught Christa’s worried expression. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him that you told me.”

Christa smiled. “It’s ok, he can thank me for it later.”

I hurried down the stairs, slowing as I reached the front room. Jarin ran past me down the hall, chasing Jace into the kitchen. The piano music grew louder the closer I got to the living room. I peeked in the door. Josh sat on the piano bench, his back to me. His hair was a mess, but it looked trendy, like he’d meant for it to look that way. His fingers flew across the keys, striking dissonant chords that pierced my heart.

“Josh.” My voice sounded small compared to the song that Josh played, but when I spoke, he stopped. He sat still for a second, before gathering his piano music. I wondered if he didn’t hear me.

“Josh, I’m sorry.” I knew he heard me this time, but he didn’t look up.

“I haven’t had a chance to thank you,” I said.

“For what?” His face was as cold as the weather.

“You know, getting suspended. Christa told me how you stood up for me in front of everyone, and I think it was gutsy of you.” I took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Josh’s eyes were dark green, almost emerald. I had to tell myself to breathe, to send oxygen to my suddenly light head. “Wiping the smile off the face of that self-satisfied jerk was worth it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Josh smiled at my reaction. I clutched the amulet that hung around my neck and tried again. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Josh’s face turned to stone again. “I heard you loud and clear.” He stepped past me and bounded up the stairs, leaving me alone with a tangle of emotions that I couldn’t unravel.

Get off the floor!
Rourke slammed his cane onto the studio floor. I stopped dancing, and Josh dropped my hand and walked to the bench. I stayed where I was and Rourke took it out on me.

What is your problem?
Rourke paced back and forth in front of me.
Your dancing is weak. We have three days until the feis. Do you really want to make this kind of first impression?

Leah was translating for Josh, but he acted like he wasn’t paying attention. I had tried for over a week to talk to Josh, but he avoided me. The only times I saw him were at dance class, and even then he pretended like I wasn’t there.

Rourke had decided that we could enter his duet in a trophy category at the feis. We had been practicing for hours, but I couldn’t bring myself to dance the emotions it required.

My heart ached as I watched Josh put on his shoes and shrug into his coat. He wouldn’t look at me, and he only danced the duet with me out of duty.

There is no enjoyment in this kind of dancing. The judges will snore, or worse yet, boo you out of the room.
Rourke paced over to Josh. Leah put her arm out to calm him, but he walked past her.
Boy, you have a good thing going. Don’t throw it away.

“Yes sir.” Josh waited long enough for Leah to translate before he walked out the door.

Leah gave me a look of apology. I peeled my shoes off and practically ran to get my bag.

Rourke signed my name, an ‘M’ that circled in on itself like a Celtic knot.

I waited.

You need to fix what’s broken between you two.

“I know.” I threw on my coat and ran out the door to where Josh waited in the car.

Josh didn’t talk on the way to Aunt Avril’s apartment. I opened my mouth to say something, but decided against it. He drove in silence while I stared out the window at the valley, now blanketed with snow. I wished I knew how to fix things. I hated the hard look on his face. I wanted to smooth the lines away with my fingers, and make things go back to the way they were before.

When we arrived, I stepped out of Josh’s car into the snow.

“See you Saturday,” I said. Josh nodded to me before turning his car around for home. I watched him drive away, the tires leaving a double row of tracks in the new snow.

What was my problem? I could sense if the bagger at the grocery store was having a bad day, but I couldn’t chase down the emotions that swung back and forth in my heart. All I knew was that I didn’t like having Josh mad at me.

I didn’t want to go inside the apartment yet. I walked into the courtyard where a small swing set provided the only distractions for the tenants’ children. I brushed the top layer of snow off one of the swings, wrapping my coat around my fingers to hold onto the cold metal chains. The swing creaked as I pushed myself back and forth, never letting my feet leave the ground.

How did everything get so turned around? Even Christa was mad at me. It had only been a few days since I’d found out Josh’s feelings for me, and already I’d pushed him away. I didn’t know how to fix things between us. The feis was this weekend, and I couldn’t see any way to make things better before we had to dance the duet. I kicked at the snow, stirring up a shower of glittery powder that scattered across the courtyard.

Lizard crouched at the end of the sidewalk, watching me with those lidless eyes. I glared at him. “She’s not going to let Rourke get home, is she?” The lizard didn’t react—just crouched like a statue in the snow. I stood, pulling myself out of the swing, and walked over. “We don’t stand a chance against her, do we?” I told Ansul. “Look what happened to Betsy, when she got in the way. If the banshee wants me dead, all she has to do is whisper in my ear!” I groaned in frustration, looking for a response from the lizard. He gave no indication that he had heard my tirade. The tiny amulet on Ansul’s collar was the only thing that moved—it twisted and turned in the wind.

I put my hand over the matching amulet at my throat. The wind picked up my hair, twisting the curls in every direction. The courtyard looked ominous in the disappearing light. Every shadow could be the banshee, waiting for me. I hurried to the door, not wanting to be alone anymore.

I walked inside, ready for a hot shower and maybe some mindless TV. On the couch was draped a dress—the one from the secondhand store that I had admired. The evening light shone through the window, making the dress look mossy-green one moment and burnt-orange the next.

“I knew that dress was yours when I saw you looking at it in the thrift store.” Aunt Avril stepped into the living room. She held the slippery skirt out. “I’ll have to alter it, but I think it will make a fantastic Irish dance costume.”

“You bought this for me?” I hugged Aunt Avril, sandwiching the dress between us. “I love it!”

I ran my hand over the fabric, loving how the autumn-toned skirt fell from my hands in heavy waves of silk. Away from the cluttered store, the dress looked even more elegant. Clusters of beads gathered at the bustline above a perfectly placed velvet ribbon that lined the fitted bodice.

“Can I try it on?”

Aunt Avril motioned to her bathroom—not really a bathroom at all, but a corner of the small apartment, sectioned off by a beaded curtain. I pulled the curtain shut, eager to feel the silky fabric on my skin.

“Where is your mom tonight?” Aunt Avril asked.

I spoke through the curtain. “She took Zoey with her friends to the ski hill to go sledding.”

“Didn’t you want to go?”

“I had dance.” Another day I would have gone up after class, even if only to babysit Benji and drink hot cocoa in the shack, but today I wanted to lock myself in my bedroom. Except that Aunt Avril’s couch didn’t exactly qualify as a bedroom. “Did you find out anything more about Betsy?”

“The police have named Mrs. Saddlebury as a person of interest, but they haven’t tracked her down yet. Betsy was found in the Saddleburys’ yard. I can sense the violence around the mansion, and there’s no doubt in my mind that Betsy got in the banshee’s way.”

Whoever owned the dress before me must have been taller, but the torso followed the lines of my body perfectly. Fabric swished around my ankles with a whisper. I rubbed the silky chiffon sleeves where they touched my fingertips, reveling in the feelings of excitement and fulfillment imprinted within the fabric.

I stepped out from behind the curtain, pulling the amulet out from beneath the bodice of the dress.

“Lovely, my dear.” Aunt Avril spoke around the pins in her mouth. She circled me, pinning and measuring. “I’ll have this finished in time for the feis.”

“You’re a seamstress?”

Aunt Avril winked. “I’m a woman of many talents.”

“That’s for sure. Are you . . . do you sew better than most people?”

“I sew most of my own clothes.” She held up the edge of her vest.

“I mean, do you sew like my mom cooks?”

“Ah, I see what you are getting at.” She placed the last pin and stepped back to look at me. “That’ll do. Take it off now, and I’ll hem it.”

When I brought the dress back to Aunt Avril, she was sitting at the kitchen table lacing orange thread into a sewing machine. She took the dress from me, and I stood behind the chair, waiting for an answer to my question.

Aunt Avril laughed. “I’m no better at sewing than anyone else I know. Here, sit.” She found the pins and cut lengths of the fabric from the dress. I held a remnant in my hands. “Your mother’s gift is not in cooking. It is in her sense of smell.”

My mother’s nose, powerful? It didn’t sound glamorous. “You mean she can make things smell good?”

Aunt Avril stopped cutting. She handed me the pins. “Skill that is at first glance insignificant can be the most dangerous when overlooked. A sense of smell can evoke memories, overwhelm or calm, and even be used as a weapon.”

“A weapon? How, exactly?”

“Smell isn’t only about odor. The nose can discern cold and pain as well. Let me show you.” Aunt Avril opened a cupboard and ran her finger down a row of vials, each with a different-colored label. Picking a red one, she unscrewed the lid. “Smell.”

I inhaled. A cool, minty fragrance filled my sinuses. I wrinkled my nose.

“What do you smell?”

“Peppermint?”

“Right. Now smell it again, but this time don’t dwell on how it smells, concentrate on how it feels.”

A whiff of the peppermint oil tingled my flared nostrils, making me cough.

Aunt Avril nodded. “That’s pain you are feeling. It’s not intense now, but if I could increase the sensation ten times, or a few hundred times, you would be begging for relief.”

“So Mom can make other people smell things? Is that why her candy business does so well?”

“One of the reasons. Maggie’s like you—not only can she sense with her power, but she can project it onto others.” Aunt Avril turned the dress inside out, sticking pins to form a hem.

“Does the power work better on some people, and not others?”

“Probably. Have you been practicing?”

“Sort of.”

“And is it working?”

“Not really.”

Aunt Avril let the dress fall to her lap. “Without faith there is no power, and without power there could be no reality.”

“You mean I have to believe that the emotion is true in order for it to work?” It made sense.

“I told you she would understand.” Aunt Avril waved her hand to Theron’s shrine near the door.

I stopped Aunt Avril’s arm as she reached for another pin. “If my mom’s power is as intense as you say, then why doesn’t she use it for more than cooking?” Aunt Avril didn’t answer, and when she continued to stare at the photo of my uncle, I wondered if she had heard me.

“Aunt Avril?”

Her eyes snapped to mine, and she took in air as if she had been underwater, holding it until she surfaced. “Yes, dear, I heard you. Your mother has chosen not to develop her skill for anything other than culinary pursuits. Even now, she’s cautious.”

“There must be some reason why she kept her ability a secret from me.”

Aunt Avril rolled her eyes. “I suppose you ought to know.”

She had my full attention now. I slid my chair closer to hers.

“Growing up, we loved our visits to Grandpa’s dairy farm. Maggie and I mucked through the cow fields in our boots, played house in the empty silo, and chased after the peacocks until they dropped their feathers for us. The only bad part about staying with Grandpa was our cousin, Brock. He was a year older than me, and such a tease. Whenever we adventured on the farm, Brock would sneak up on us and ruin our fun. Looking back now, I’m sure he wanted us to include him. But to us he was a pest.

One rainy afternoon, Grandma gave us some hot buttered rolls and shooed us into the loft so we wouldn’t be underfoot. We didn’t want to share the rolls with Brock. Maggie came up with an idea to keep him out of the loft. She gave Brock a desire to smell the rain.” She inhaled as if she could still smell the pungent rain.

“We played in the loft for hours, never imagining that it might be dangerous for Brock to stand out in the storm. Grandma said she tried to get him to come in the house, but he wouldn’t leave the hay field. He stood alone, smelling the rain, a beacon for the lightning bolt that struck him.”

I pictured my mother trying to hurt someone on purpose, and failed. I was sure it was an accident. But someone got hurt, and all because Mom used her power on another. I could see now why she didn’t want to use her powers.

“Did he die?”

“No, Brock was in bed for weeks, and Maggie spent all of her time at his bedside until he recovered. She didn’t want the responsibility that the power gave her.”

I’d never thought of my power like that—a responsibility with dangerous potential. I’d thought about trying to influence Josh. Not much, just a tiny bit so that he would be willing to listen to my side of things. I rationalized that it wouldn’t be wrong because he would be glad to hear what I wanted to tell him. But now I decided it would be taking away his right to ignore me.

Aunt Avril folded the dress into a neat square, the pinned hem on top. “I’ll finish the rest tomorrow. We’d better get dinner started. Everyone will be hungry when they get home.”

I picked up stray threads, balling them together in my hands. “Will Mom be mad that you told me?”

“Definitely. But she’ll get it over it.” Aunt Avril winked. “She always does.” Aunt Avril slid me a paper with a number written on it. “Crew’s number at the FBI,” she said, motioning for me to pick it up. “Keep it close. Just in case.” I picked up the paper and tucked it away in my satchel.