Authors: Maureen L. Bonatch
Tags: #Ghosts,Demons-Gargoyles,New Adult,Suspense,Paranormal,Fantasy
Ruthie frowned at the photo I’d hung on the wall, replacing one of her rooster pictures. “Why isn’t there a picture in the frame? That’s the paper they put in them at the store. You’re supposed to take that out.” She shook her head.
I turned away. “We didn’t have any pictures.”
“Why didn’t you take pictures? You could’ve done that. Tessa only had to keep you under the radar, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have had a picture or two. You don’t even have to have a camera these days. You can go to the mall with one of the photo machines, or can even use a phone if you got one of those high-tech expensive ones.”
I spun around to face her. “Maybe I was afraid to.”
Ruthie furrowed her brow. “Why?”
I hung my head, wiping my arm across my eyes, hoping Ruthie wouldn’t see the tears spilling over. “Maybe I was afraid of what I might see if I looked too close.”
Ruthie took my shoulders and turned me toward the mirror. “Look. What do you see? I don’t see no devil or angel. I just see Hope.”
I glanced up and then away from my tear-streaked face. “Why does it matter? No one cared before, except for Tessa. But it turns out half of what she fed me was lies.” Tercet retreated to the corner to glower. “No one’s cared until now, and apparently, you all want something from me. No surprise there.”
I recoiled when Ruthie grabbed my forearms with a surprisingly strong grip. The anger on her face distorted her into someone I didn’t recognize.
“Now you listen to me. It was for you. It’s always been you. Things you’re discovering we’ve been living with for all our lives. The orphanage was a mistake.”
“You left me there?”
“With all the chaos of your mother’s death, it was meant to be a gift to you. To keep you safe. I knew you were special, more than most. Oppressors can’t penetrate the nuns. The nuns see demons in all of us, real or not. I thought letting you be raised in the normal world might make you stronger. We may be witches, but we still make mistakes.”
I tried to escape the vehemence coming from Ruthie, but she held tight. She wasn’t done.
“Taking this book has made things worse. Stealing the book could make things worse for all of us. I don’t care what you think you’re capable of,
you
are the one who doesn’t know shit.” Spittle flew from her lips as she spat these words close to my face.
She released my arms and stepped back. “Don’t you ever say that about my sister. Tessa did what she did to keep you alive. She did it for love. We chose her because of her eccentricities. It made it more difficult for the Oppressors to infiltrate her mind because of her addled nature.” Ruthie lowered her voice. “And don’t you ever, ever talk to me like that again, or I’ll forget what my duties are and remember all I’ve sacrificed for you.”
The rage I’d held inside me all these years built, surfaced, and spewed out. “I never asked you to sacrifice anything. You don’t even know half of the sacrifices I’ve made.”
The black fog started to seep around me. I watched the fog grow and tried to brush it off, rubbing at my arm.
Ruthie sighed. “You didn’t ask, honey. No one asks for it. Life is easier if you’re wearing a blindfold. At least that’s what we thought for you. But you can’t change anything. It’s who we are. It’s what we do. We are different, but we also make a difference in this world. No matter how small it may be, it’s significant, if only to one person. We didn’t choose it. It chose us.” Ruthie spun around, and her shoes clacked against the tile as she headed for the door.
I never felt so alone.
“Ruthie, stop.” I hung my head. Tercet crept over to rub against my leg. “Please.”
It wasn’t Ruthie I was angry with, or even all the crazy people in this town. The anger stemmed from thinking Tessa’s death merely might’ve been the catalyst to start this journey. That justice wouldn’t be easily served so I could go on with my life, or at least the life I had before I came here.
She stopped. Her shoulders rose and fell and she let out a gust of air. “You done found the silver lining. Stop focusing on the clouds. Most of us don’t have a choice, but you do. Make the right one.”
“Why do I have to choose? Just tell me.”
“Is a decision yours if someone else makes it for you? It’s your choice to make.” Ruthie faced me. “Do you think you’re ready to accept reality isn’t all you see? There are layers to this world you’ve been blind to. Are you ready to hear that? Some people never are. They can’t handle it. Can you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Ruthie studied me, her expression deflated. “For that part? No. You don’t.”
“Then you’re the perfect person to teach me.” Ruthie had given her whole life for this crazy crusade and I didn’t know the half of it. But I’d already had enough. “Why don’t you leave? Move away?”
Ruthie shook her head. “You can’t run from destiny. It follows you wherever you go. Besides, this is my family. I’d never leave when they need me.”
I sat down heavily onto the chair at the table. “Maybe I gave all my hope away already, and I don’t have any left.”
Her hand rested on my shoulder for a moment, but she removed it before I could shrug off her touch. She leaned down to face me. “No, you didn’t. Or you would’ve never come here. That was your choice. No one made you come. We just helped lead the way.”
“I came here for something. I thought it was to…” I dropped my gaze to study my fingernails and noted the chipped pink polish realizing how desperately I needed to paint my nails. “I thought I came to find my mother. But now…”
Ruthie pulled a chair across the floor, with a loud scraping sound. The cushion expelled a gust of air as she plopped down and clasped my hand. I looked up in surprise when I didn’t feel the familiar drain.
Ruthie smiled, displaying those pearly whites. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about touching me with your gift and all. I know now, if you’re using it for the right reason it won’t affect me or you. Well, I kind of knew before, which I should have, being I named you and all, but one can never be too cautious.”
“Would you stop all the blubbering and just get to the point, already?”
I jumped back from the table, ignoring Ruthie’s hurt expression when I dropped her hand. That was Tessa’s voice. At least, I thought I heard her voice. It certainly was one of her favorite expressions.
“Ruthie, did you say that?”
“Say what? About being cautious? Although obviously that’s not a word you’re too familiar with. Not with the way you’ve been gallivanting around town and all.” She narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something. You don’t have to act like that. I told you your touch doesn’t bother me.”
Ruthie turned to peer into the mirror hanging on the wall by the table. “I don’t look that bad, do I?” She cupped her hand over her mouth, breathed into it, and then inhaled. “I did brush my teeth today, too.” She patted down stray hairs, which had snuck free and multiplied into an explosion of frizz resembling a dandelion ready to take flight in the wind.
“No, it’s not that. I thought I heard…”
“Heard what?” She tapped at her ear with the palm of her hand. “I usually hear pretty well.” She chuckled. “I’m gonna let you in on a secret. I don’t need a hearing aid. I let people believe that so they talk around me thinking I can’t hear them. You won’t believe the things I hear.” She smirked, but her smile faded as she studied me. “What? It is me you’re looking at, isn’t it?” She faced the mirror. “It’s this color, isn’t it?” She stroked her hair. “George talked me into it, I don’t know if I like it.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s nothing.”
“Tell her already,”
said the voice, which sounded exactly like Tessa.
Jumping up from the table, I took a step toward Ruthie, who was still transfixed in the mirror, primping. Her reflection displayed her concentrating fiercely as she tried to force the renegade hairs back into place. It also displayed my confused expression. And Tessa.
Stumbling backward, I fell on my ass. Tercet streaked by in a blur of fur to avoid becoming a seat cushion.
“Are you all right?” Ruthie turned from the now vacant mirror. Obviously, she hadn’t seen anything. I brushed her offer of assistance away.
“I’m fine. Just tripped over my own foot.” I stared at the mirror, now housing only the back of Ruthie’s head, as she watched me with concern. She settled back in her chair. I rose slowly, never taking my eyes off the mirror housing my reflection. Tessa peered from the glass, looking mightily irritated.
“Oh my God, Tessa.” I cupped my hands over my mouth. No longer caring if Ruthie thought I’d gone insane. “I never thought I’d see you again.” Tears pooled in my eyes and overflowed down my cheeks.
“What are you blubbering about? Ruthie followed my gaze to the mirror. “Land’s sake, it’s not God. It’s Tessa.”
“It’s about time someone greeted me. I was called to the Kitchen hours ago, and I’ve been waiting here for you to notice me. It’s not as if I have all day. Well, actually I do have all day, but maybe I don’t want to spend my time sitting here.” Tessa’s laugh was the same tinkling like ice into a glass I remembered. Making her sound like a young child and her expression just as youthful when it lit up her face.
I looked from the mirror to Ruthie. “Can you see and hear her, too?”
“Of course she can, she’s standing beside you,” Tessa said.
“Quit giving her a hard time.” Ruthie waggled her finger at her sister’s image. “She’s been through a lot lately, and no thanks to you.”
“I did the best I could.” Tessa crossed her arms over her chest and scowled back. “You think it was easy for me? Keeping secrets all these years? Always looking over our shoulders? Moving all the time?”
“You think my job was a piece of cake here?” Ruthie shot back. “No, I couldn’t make my cookies or open the bake shop. I spent my time teaching Essie how to nurture Chance and Destiny to grow their abilities without exposing them to the Oppressors.”
“Ladies.” They both fell silent. It amazed me how Ruthie took this all in stride, as if it wasn’t unusual to have an argument with her dead sister’s reflection in the kitchen mirror. I sank back into the chair.
Ruthie patted the mirror. “Tessa? Where did she go? Bad as the time she snuck out without a word when we were sixteen. She left me to face our parents when they found the stack of pillows under her sheets.” Ruthie squinted into the mirror, her eyes bulging behind her thick spectacles as if Tessa would reappear if she looked long enough.
“What? She’s gone?” I stood to look into the mirror. Tessa continued in mid-sentence as if she’d never left.
“—and you always had to have the last word, probably why you were born second.”
“You’re back. What happened? Where’d you go?” Ruthie rubbed her forehead at this new phenomenon. “Kind of rude to pop in and out.”
“I didn’t go anywhere.” Tessa scowled, as if the answer should be obvious. “Hope left.”
Four eyes magnified behind pop bottle glasses turned to me. Apparently, Tessa still needed hers in the afterlife, or wherever she was. I bet that disappointed her. She hated to wear her glasses, but she couldn’t see without them. “I didn’t go anywhere,” I said. “I sat down.”
“You left the mirror,” Tessa said. “A few can see us in the mirror when we’re in the Kitchen, and you’re one of them. Others can see us as long as you’re standing with them.” Tessa nodded. “At least until all of your abilities get honed more.”
“Us?” I moved closer, but Tessa was the only one filling the frame, besides Ruthie’s reflection and mine. “Is there someone else in there?”
Tessa’s expression was smug as she met Ruthie’s curious stare, obviously thrilled to have information over her younger sister. With them together, it surprised me that I hadn’t noticed the similarities in their features, although perhaps that’s what drew me to Ruthie.
Ruthie grasped the frame and leaned into Tessa’s reflection, who instinctively moved back despite the protection of glass and other dimension. “Spill it, sister. How many people are in there? Who’s in there? Is Frannie in there?” I guess fear of an intimidating sibling remained long after any real threat was gone.
“Frannie,” Ruthie yelled, pressing her cheek against the glass to try to peer under the edge of the frame. “Come on out, old girl, we got a score to settle.”
“I don’t know who all is in here,” Tessa yelled back. “And you can’t call them out. We have to be summoned to the Kitchen.”
I peered around the small kitchen space of the apartment, making a mental note not to walk around in the dark here, and never to sleep in the nude. “This kitchen?”
“No, not that kitchen.” Tessa waved me off. “The place I’m in now.” She gestured around her. “It’s called the Kitchen. It’s only the women who are called here. I think because everything happens in the kitchen, especially if you’re a woman. You’re either cooking, cleaning, or gossiping in the kitchen.” Tessa shrugged. “I guess some things never change. But the good thing is when we’re in this kitchen, it’s for gossiping, no cooking or cleaning here.”
Ruthie cleared her throat. “Speaking of cooking. You never did give me the secret ingredients for your baked beans.”
“That’s why they’re called secret ingredients.” Tessa pursed her lips.
Ruthie scowled. “When you said you were taking the recipe to the grave, I didn’t know you meant literally. Here’s your chance to let your baked beans live on after you’re gone.” Ruthie watched Tessa’s expression, as if trying to determine if she was winning the battle. “I’ll even call them Tessa’s baked beans so you still get credit for them.”
I shook my head at the sisters. “Seriously? Can we talk about baked beans, later? We have more important things to discuss.”
“That’s because you’ve never had Tessa’s baked beans. Oh, I guess you may have, so you know what I’m talking about, and I haven’t seen her for years. She was too busy gallivanting around the country to think about me not having any of those beans.” Never taking her eyes off Tessa, Ruthie nudged me with her elbow. “Even though she knew darn well those were my favorite. When she died, I realized I’d never get to taste them again.”
“Really?” Tessa glared at Ruthie. “All you cared about when I died was my baked beans?”