The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) (10 page)

BOOK: The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root)
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“You three have a new sister, born on New Year’s Eve, exactly one week after Merry’s birthday. Isn’t that special? We have two holiday babies now!” Miss Sasha reached into the carrier and covered the baby up with a soft-looking, pink blanket that had been wadded up by her feet.

“Well, what’s da child’s name, for mercy’s sake?” Aunt Dora asked, working her way in. “Or have ya even thought of that, yet?”

“Eve.” Their mother smiled tiredly, stretching her arms overhead. She removed her feathered boa and her fur coat and placed them on hooks by the door. “It’s drafty in here. Dora, are you trying to freeze us all?” She rubbed her arms to prove her point.

“Are ya kiddin? It’s hot as Hades in dis house, at least in the downstairs. Upstairs, it’s so cold I didn’t wan’ the girls sleeping up there. Ya should git someone out to check the thermostat. These old house are full o’ weird air pockets.” Aunt Dora meandered into the kitchen.

“Don’t mind her, girls,” their mother whispered, loud enough for her sister in the next room to hear. “She’s a Grumpy Gus, lately. That’s what happens when you go through the change.”
 

Aunt Dora appeared in the kitchen entryway, wielding a rolling pin and waving it overhead. “If I’m gettin’ old, I’m draggin’ ya along wit’ me,” she said, then disappeared back into the other room.

“Maybe Eve can be my birthday present?” Merry asked. She was crouched down, peering intently into the carrier. “We never did have a party for me.”

“We will have a birthday for you, Merry,” her mother apologized. “And you can be my special helper with the baby, okay?” She picked up the carrier and walked to the breakfast nook, placing the baby on the table. Then she settled herself into one of their mismatched wooden chairs and called Aunt Dora to bring her some tea.

“Does it hurt to sit?” Ruth Anne asked, her eyes frozen on her book. “I heard popping out kiddos makes it hard to sit.”

Their mother threw her head back and laughed, long brown waves shimmying around her face. “Ruth Anne, you are such a funny girl. Are you sure you’re only eight?” She caught her reflection in the brass framed mirror on the opposite wall. She studied it, pursed her lips together, then pushed her finger into one of the deeper lines around her mouth. “Dora,” she called into the kitchen. “While you’re at it, can you find me my aloe cream? My skin’s a little dry.”
 

Aunt Dora muttered an indecipherable answer and Miss Sasha returned her attention to her daughters.

“To answer your question, Ruth Anne, I am fine. Fine as wine, in fact.”

Maggie crossed her arms, her chin jutting out defiantly. “Can’t we take Eve back? I don’t want another baby.”

“No, darling. She is ours forever now. You’ll get used to her, I promise”
 

“She going to sleep in the sitting room? There’s nothing in there but junk, anyways,” Ruth Anne said, moving her eyes from the book she was reading to the locked door on the side of the living room.
 

The color of their mother’s eyes changed from violet to black.

“Nobody goes into the sitting room but me, do you understand?” Her jaw tightened and the thin, blue veins in her neck pulsed. Merry, Maggie, and Ruth Anne tensed up at the look on their mother’s face and remained quiet, waiting for her storm to pass. Finally, her face softened. “I’m sorry,” she said, closing her eyes and opening them quickly. “I’m just tired. Having a baby takes a lot out of you.”

She poured herself a cup of tea from the pot Aunt Dora had produced, took a long sip, then swallowed, turning her eyes on Maggie. “She is going to sleep with you in the nursery. You’ll be four soon, much too old for a crib. We’ll get you a big girl’s bed. Won’t you like that?”

Maggie panicked.

She had thought the baby would be sleeping in her room but not in her bed, too. She knew that she had gotten too old for the crib long ago, but she had always felt safe inside the little cage, with her stuffed animals and her night light. It was her own private fortress and at night, when everyone was asleep, she would cover it in blankets and stay hidden until morning.
 

It had kept things...away.

“No!”

Her voice was strong and angry, surprising even her. Mother’s tea cup trembled on it’s saucer. Aunt Dora’s eyes widened but her mother just nodded.

“I know you have nightmares, Maggie,” her mother said softly, “With Eve in the room with you, they might just go away.”

Maggie knew the argument was over and that she had lost.
 

Maybe there were other safe places in the room. The closet or under the crib. She would scout them out later, when she was alone.
 

Or maybe, if she was lucky, the ‘thing’ that was looking for her, would go after Eve instead.

 

 

Somewhere in Central Oregon

September, 2013

 

It was another dream. I rubbed at my eyes trying to push back the past. It was bad enough that I was forced to return home. I didn’t need the constant reminders of why I left.

I tried to wiggle my legs but they were locked in between the seat and my suitcase on the floor of the bus. Our last bus had broken down, and a new one had been sent for us. Unfortunately, the luggage compartment was already full, and so I had to finish the ride with nowhere to put my feet. But I didn’t dare let it out of my sight; a man across the row had been eyeballing it since I boarded, licking his lips and twitching his eyes.

The rest of me was achy too, courtesy of the potholes and poor road skills of our new driver, who I was sure was out to get me ever since I demanded he pull over and let me use a real bathroom because I wasn’t going to pee in their courtesy cesspool.

“If yer too good for our facilities, you can piss yer pants for all I care,” he growled, purposely aiming the bus into every hole and divot in the road thereafter.

I glared at the back of his head from my seat. He glared back through the rear view mirror.

It was a standoff and he was winning.

“Piss break,” he finally hollered as we rolled into the parking lot of a run-down, roadside bar. I watched my fellow passengers––an old couple with a squawking bird, three teenaged boys who kept referring to my rack, and a young man who kept his face buried in a book––slush past me on their quest to find a real, working toilet. The twitchy man across from me rubbed his greasy palms through his even greasier hair and offered to sit with my suitcase if I needed a break.
 

I dislodged it from its spot and hefted it out of the bus, giving the driver a dirty look.

“Where are we?” I asked one of the teen-aged boys, who shrugged in response. I then asked the book-reading man, who informed me that if I had kept my paper itinerary, as he had, I would know exactly where I was.

I should have taken a plane, I thought, then dismissed the idea.

I had never flown anywhere in my life, and as much as I now hated traveling by bus, the thought of sitting in a metallic floating machine made my knees weak. No matter how many people explained the
science
of it to me, it didn’t seem possible.

And at least the scenery had been pretty. I had spent hours leaned up against the cool glass window, watching as California faded into Oregon. The landscape was lush, green, rolling, straight out of a portrait. A man I sat next to for awhile had been tracking Big Foot, he said. Looking out the window, staring at an endless horizon of nothing but trees, it was hard to discount his beliefs.
 

Anything might live in these woods. Fairies, elves, even a Sasquatch.

“Twenty minutes,” the driver called to us, shutting the double glass doors behind him. I was near the last in line for the bathroom, slowed down by my over-sized suitcase. The twitchy man leered at me through the bus window.

I looked around as I waited my turn.

A neon sign announced that we were at the Fat Chance Bar. Only a few beat-up cars and trucks dotted the parking lot. A wooden door led into the main bar. The
busser’s
bathroom, according to a crudely-written sign, was located on the side of the building.
 

I grabbed a Pay Day bar out of my purse and gnawed on it while waiting my turn. A gust of wind caught my skirt, sending it floating above my thighs and the teen-aged boys elbowed one another.
 

I was startled by the ringing of my newly-acquired phone.

I removed it from my bag and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Maggie! Are you okay? I heard you were coming home by bus.”

I was surprised to hear Merry’s voice. I wasn’t sure how she had gotten this number, but I could only guess that Jason had something to do with it. I turned my body away from the crowd and cuffed the mouthpiece with my hand.

“I’m fine. Almost home, I think. Ready for me?” I laughed nervously. When she said nothing I continued. “...Where’re we meeting? Not Mom’s, I hope? I don’t think I can handle jumping right into things without getting my feet wet first.” My fingers tightened around the phone. What would come would come...but hopefully not tonight.

“No. We are meeting at Harvest Home, if that’s okay? I just got here this morning.” Merry paused, sucking in her breath. “Maggie, Mom’s not good. I had heard things were bad, but I didn’t know they were this bad. I think we all need a good night’s sleep before seeing her.”
 

She laughed, a nervous laugh, and it took me aback. Merry never got anxious.

“You reach our sisters?” I asked casually, grabbing the handle of my suitcase and moving up in line.

“I tried. I can’t find she-who-shall-not-be-named
at all. I even looked her up on the Internet and tried to email someone with that name. No response.”

“Email? They still doing that?”

Merry laughed. “Maggie, you are so funny sometimes. I miss that.”

I smiled, feeling the distance between us melt away. We may not have seen each other for eight years, but we were still sisters. “And Eve?” My eyes turned upwards, towards the darkening sky. “Aunt Dora told me she had moved to New York a few years ago. Acting, right? If I know Eve, she’s too busy leading her glamorous life to come back to Dark Root.”

“Well...” Merry’s voice tightened. “Eve will be here late tonight. She’s catching a ride from a
friend
.” She tilted the word like she were trying to push it down. She had never approved of Eve’s
friends.
Bad news, the lot of them, but that didn’t stop Eve from collecting them.

“Well, I should beat her there, then,” I said, relieved. “If all goes well.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Maggie. I miss you so much. We’ve been apart too long.” The words slid from her throat and wrenched my heart. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said, her tone light again.

“A surprise? Is he six-foot-tall and rich?” I teased, leaning against the wall of the Fat Chance Bar.

“Nope. But I think you will like it, just the same. Can’t wait to show you.”
 

The excitement in her voice warmed me, and for the first time, I couldn’t wait to be home. If only to see my Merry.

“Okay, enough Hallmark talk,” I said. “See you on the flip side.” Merry knew this was my cue to leave. I hung up, not letting her say goodbye. I hated goodbyes.

I turned towards the restroom when a young man in a blue t-shirt and faded jeans stopped me. “Excuse me miss, I couldn’t help but overhear. Did you say you were going to Dark Root?” He grinned, his white teeth almost glowing in the near dark. He was clean cut, lean, and muscular. And he smelled too good to have been riding the bus.

BOOK: The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root)
9.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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