Witch Ball - BK 3 (6 page)

After the last box was carried out to PennyLove's station wagon, I telephoned Nona to pick
me up. Amy made a call of her own and got permission to spend the night. Amy and I would stay
up late watching movies, eating popcorn, and playing card games like we did before I moved out.

It was the best news I'd heard all day.

We were waiting outside for Nona, when I
heard someone call my name.

Turning, I saw Manny running toward me.
His black dreadlocks flew from his face and he
panted from exertion.

"Finally found you!" he said, bending slightly
to catch his breath. "I was afraid you'd already
left."

"What are you still doing here?"

"Looking for you. Can we talk alone for a
minute?"

I glanced cautiously at Amy, who was sitting on
the curb absorbed in a thick, green book. "Sure," I
said.

Manny took my arm and led me a short distance away. "You'll never guess what I got here. I
was packing up my booth and ran across this."

"A notebook?"

"Not just any notebook." He flipped it open.
"It's the sign-up sheet I put out when I set up my
booth. It has some names."

I lowered my voice. "The people who got predictions before me?"

"Exactly." He handed me the notebook. "Check
it out."

I looked down and read three names.

K. C. Myers

Jack Carney

Jillian Grossmer

I kept my expression calm because I suspected Amy
was listening. The first two names meant nothing
to me, but it took all my control to hide my surprise at Jill's name.

"Interesting." I gave Manny a look warning
him not to say much in front of my sister.

He nodded in understanding. "Thought you'd
feel that way."

"Remember anything yet?"

"Nope." His black dreadlocks swayed with the
shake of his head. "I doubt I will."

"If you do, let me know."

"Definitely."

The minute he left, Amy put her book away
and faced me with a curious expression. "So what
was that about? And don't tell me nothing, because
I read enough mysteries to know when people are
hiding secrets."

I shrugged. "It was nothing."

"I'm not a baby, Sabine. You can tell me
anything."

"There's nothing to tell. Just dull carnival
business."

"Then show me the notebook."

"No." I held it securely behind my back.

"Why not if it's dull?" She grabbed for the notebook, but I lifted it over my head and spun away
from her.

"Oh, there's Nona!" I announced, waving at the
car pulling into the parking lot. "Come on Amy."

"You are so not playing fair," she grumbled. But
I ignored her and hurried over to Nonas car.

Nona gave a joyful exclamation when she saw
Amy, and invited her to sit up in the front seat.
Amy hadn't visited since I moved in, so Nona
was full of questions about school, modeling, and
music lessons. I slid into the back, glad to be alone
with my thoughts-and Manny's notebook. Flipping it open, I traced my finger over Jill's flowing
cursive signature. Her double Us looped identically
and the dot over her "i" was perfectly centered.
Super-achiever, even when it came to her penmanship. How would she react to a less-than-perfect
prediction?

It would be simple enough to call Jill and find
out what Manny told her. But would she tell me
over the phone? She'd want to know why I didn't
just ask Manny. That would lead to more awkward
questions I didn't want to answer.

Besides, Jill hadn't seemed upset today. In the
midst of carnival chaos, she maintained a calm,
confident attitude. We'd talked several times and
she'd never once mentioned a prediction. If Manny
had gone into a zombie trance and foretold her
death, I would have heard about it-if not from Jill then from someone else. Whatever Manny had told
her, it couldn't have been bad news-maybe even
good.

Jack and K.C.-whoever they were-probably
received good fortunes, too, and I was stressing
over nothing. Although, if I was the only one with
a bad prediction, that meant the witch ball had a
grudge against me.

Was it because I was the new owner of the ball?

Or was it more personal ... more dangerous?

When we arrived home, I lugged a folding bed
upstairs and set it up in my room for Amy. I was
amused to discover her backpack had more books
than anything. If it had been Ashley, she would
have brought half of her closet plus an arsenal of
makeup. How could twins who shared the exact
genes be so different?

Of course I shared some of those genes, and
look how I turned out. I wasn't fashionable like
Mom, multi-talented like my sisters, or a shrewd negotiator like Dad. In a way I was the "black sheep"
of the family. I even had the black stripe in my
blond hair to prove it; the hereditary mark of a seer.
Nona had one, too, until her blond hair turned
silver-gray.

While Nona took Amy on a get-reacquainted
tour of the farm, I offered to start dinner. I peeled
carrots, sliced chicken, and then simmered them
with noodles and mushroom soup for a casserole.
Savory smells filled the stove-warmed kitchen.
Everything was ready when Amy and Nona returned
from outside; their cheeks flushed and a piece of hay
poking out from Amy's long, dark hair.

Dinner was a festive occasion. Amy and I talked
about the carnival, sharing funny stories about the
people who came to our booth, like the elderly man
who was so excited to score a hit, his dentures fell
out. Nona told about her more unusual clients from
Soul Mate Matches; the little boy who hired her to
find the perfect mate for his father and ended up
with his teacher for a stepmother; and the man who
discovered his perfect match was his ex-wife. I loved
seeing Nona relaxed and acting like her usual self
with zero signs of illness.

After dinner, Nona cleared off the table, Amy
rinsed dishes, and I put them in the dishwasher.
We gathered in the living room and munched buttery popcorn while watching a movie.

Then Nona had work to do in her office, so
Amy and I headed upstairs. I was standing in front of my mirror, brushing out my hair, when it hit me
that josh hadn't called. I was afraid to think what
this could mean.

"Why are you frowning?" Amy asked, pulling
on the baggy T-shirt I'd loaned her.

"Just tired." There were probably a dozen logical reasons why josh hadn't called; it probably had
nothing to do with Evan.

"I've had so much fun today." Amy hugged the
stuffed unicorn. "I'm glad Mom let me come here."

"Me, too." I set down my brush and summoned a smile. "Would you like to choose tonight's
night-light?"

Her eyes widened. "Really? But you never let
me touch your collection."

"That was when you were a baby-now you're
ten. Go ahead and pick one."

She crossed the room and held her breath almost reverently as she opened the glass cabinet.
"The black cat is wicked looking, but the green
frog is funny. Oh, I like the musical note, too. Remember who gave you that?"

"Yeah-you." I chuckled. "It was my birthday
and you made me follow rhyming clues all over the
house until I found the night-light plugged into an
attic outlet and tied with a big red bow."

"Wait till you see what I have planned for your
next birthday."

I groaned. "I'm scared."

"You should be," she teased, turning back to
the cabinet.

A few minutes later, Amy had decided on a
stained glass night-light like a Victorian house. "It
has a little attic window like the spooky house in one
of my favorite books, The Haunted Attic Mystery."

"Everything reminds you of a book," I teased.

"I've already read twenty-one this month."

"Wow. I'm impressed."

"Too bad you're the only one." Amy sighed.
"Mom says I should be more active and that reading too much will give me squinty eye wrinkles."

"Don't let her get to you. She used to tell me
not to wrinkle my forehead and I turned out just
fine," I said, lifting my brows in exaggeration so my
forehead squished into deep creases.

"You're too funny." Amy giggled. "I wish you
never moved out."

"It was tough at first. But it's worked out okay,
and it's great being with Nona."

"Not so great for me. Mom's always on my
case and Dad works so much it's like he moved
out. And Ashley ... well our house isn't a home anymore." Kneeling down, she plugged in the Victorian house night-light. Soft amber, green, and
blue lights shone across my walls. But Amy had
turned away and stood before my window, staring
into the dark night.

Coming up beside her, I slipped my arm around
her slim shoulders. "What's going on with you and
Ashley?"

"She's driving me crazy."

"How?"

"She's all, `we're gonna be a famous singing
duo.' But I don't want to sing in front of lots of
people."

"You're in front of people at your music
recitals."

"That's different. I'm not the focus, it's the
music. Modeling is okay, too, cause I don't talk
much and daydream a lot. It's Ashley who wants to
be a diva, not me."

I nodded with understanding. "Then don't
do it."

"Ashley already signed us up for voice and more
dance classes. She says she needs me because being
twins is a good gimmick and will get us noticed."

"Tell her how you feel."

"I've tried only it's like she doesn't hear me.
When we were little, I didn't mind letting her decide stuff. But now she tells me what to wear, who
to hang out with, and how to fix my hair. I can't
stand her."

"You don't mean that you love Ashley."

"Maybe. But I hate her, too."

The anger in her tone startled me, although I
could understand her resentment. It sounded like
Ashley was getting out of control-becoming more
like Mom. I shuddered at this thought. Two of my
mother?

Now that was scary.

A short while later, Amy had calmed down
and was curled under a blanket with her face halfhidden in a thick, green book.

I was too wound up to relax. So much had happened today, and I hadn't had time to sort through
my emotions. I usually chilled out by working on
crafts; the repetition of weaving thread was like meditating. But just as I opened my craft bag, the phone
rang.

josh! I thought excitedly. I hoped it was him.
Then I'd know we were still okay, that Evan hadn't turned him against me. I might even find the
courage to tell josh about my past.

As I hurried to the phone, I tried to summon a
vision of the caller. This was a psychic game I'd
played since I was little, and usually I guessed right.
But now when I searched my mind for a face or
name, I got nothing.

So I had no forewarning when I picked up the
phone.

It wasn't Josh.

"Good evening, Sabine," my mother greeted in
that formal tone reserved for strangers and her eldest daughter.

"Hi, Mom." I paused. "Uh, you must want
Amy. I'll go get-"

"No," she interrupted. "I want to speak with
you. "

"Me?" I twisted the phone cord so it dug into
my fingers.

"I apologize for calling so late. But today has
been rather hectic."

"Amy said you were staying with an old friend."

"Yes, Trinity VonSchlep, I'm sure you've heard
of her work as a casting agent. We were sorority
sisters in college and it's been wonderful seeing her
after all these years. Trinity is quite taken with Ashley, which could lead to some fabulous opportunities for the twins. But that's not why I'm calling."

I braced myself for criticism. Here comes the
real reason.

"We haven't had a chance to talk since the birthday party and I wanted to tell you how glad I was to
have you there."

"Glad?" This from the same woman who'd told
me not to attend the party!

"Sabine dear, you behaved so wonderfully, so
poised and mature. I was very proud of you."

Huh? Was I hearing right? My mother-proud
of me?