Witch Ball - BK 3 (8 page)

I left a note for Amy and Nona, then pulled my
bike out of the garage and headed for Jill's house,
which was about a mile away.

Jill's stepfather, a scrawny, bearded middleaged guy named Phil, answered the door in teddy
bear boxer shorts and a T-shirt stretched over his
belly. "You're too late," he told me. "Jill left for her
job already."

Too late? But it wasn't even nine o'clock yet!
And what job? Jill was always lecturing the squad
that their full-time job was to balance cheerleading
and schoolwork. She warned that missed practices
or failing grades could get them kicked off the
squad.

Phil told me she was at the CVJ Plant, only a
few miles away. So I hopped on my bike again. The crisp morning air felt great and I realized I was enjoying myself. Amy and I would have to go biking
later. I'd taught my sisters how to ride when they
were little and we used to go riding a lot ... before
things changed.

The CVJ Plant was the largest employer in
Sheridan Valley. They made pipes and all kinds of industrial materials. Big trucks with the CVJ logo lumbered regularly up and down the roads. But on
Sunday morning, the parking lot was almost deserted, only a few cars and semi-trucks. Hulking,
darkened buildings appeared locked. I had no idea
how to find Jill-until I noticed a side door propped
open. Parking my bike under a tree, I approached
the door.

"Jill?" I called out, peering inside what appeared to be some sort of delivery entrance. "Anyone here?"

I heard a muffled answer from the back of the
building, so I entered and walked down an echoing
hall. No sign of Jill, but as I turned a corner I saw a
custodian in a brown uniform, pushing a cleaning
cart. Wait a minute-the custodian was Jill!

Her blue eyes widened when she saw me, and
her hands flew to her face. "Sabine!" she exclaimed.
"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"But how did find me?"

"Your stepfather told me."

"I'll kill him!" She pursed her lips. "No one
was supposed to find out where I worked! This is
just great-now everyone will know."

"So what?" I didn't get why she was so angry.
"There's nothing wrong with having a job."

"Not a job like this." She swept her hand toward the cleaning cart. "I can just imagine PennyLove's reaction when she finds out her squad captain
scrubs toilets."

"She won't care," I insisted although I wasn't
really sure. Penny-Love had funny ideas about how
people should behave and could be very critical.

"I'm so busted." She gave me a pleading look.
"Please don't tell anyone."

"I won't say a word."

"Not even to Penny-Love?"

I crisscrossed a gesture over my heart. "Promise.
And there's something I want from you."

"Anything. "

"Tell me what happened yesterday when you
went to Manny's booth."

"Not much." She seemed more relaxed, leaning against the cart. "I only went because Manny is oh-so-fine, like a rebel with a brain. Everyone raves
about his predictions and I wanted to see what
he'd tell me."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing much. The reading was a total dud."

"Really?" I asked, relieved.

"Yeah. I know he's your friend, but the whole
Mystic Manny act is totally fake." She rolled her
eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I still think he's cute
and he was great to help out with our fundraiser.
But his prediction was so far off, it was pathetic."

I let out a relieved breath. "So he didn't say
anything ... weird?"

"Just the usual mumbo jumbo you'd expect
from a fake."

"What exactly?"

"Hmmm . . . let me think." She touched her
chin. "He pretended to go into a trance and his crystal ball let off this eerie glow. A way cool special
effect."

"You have no idea," I murmured.

"The glow got brighter and he kept staring at
the ball. Then he spoke my name in a raspy voice
and said, `The person you fear will pay you a surprise visit."' She chuckled. "You're my only surprise
visitor and I'm not afraid."

"Nothing scary about me," I managed to say
like I was joking.

"I was hoping for an interesting prediction. Like
I'd fall in love with a tall, dark stranger or my mom's
lottery numbers would finally win and we'd be rich.
But Mystic Manny was a big disappointment."

"How can you be sure the prediction is fake?"

"I'm not afraid of anyone."

"No one at all?" I persisted.

"No. Well, there used to be but-" She stopped,
gripping the handle of a broom. "But he doesn't
scare me anymore."

"If this guy suddenly showed up, would you
be afraid?"

"Can't happen. Impossible."

"How come?"

She met my gaze. "He's dead."

The aroma of cleaners and stale air added to the uncomfortable silence that followed Jill's words. I wasn't
sure what to say. On one hand it was reassuring to
know that one of Manny's predictions couldn't happen. But it was freaky to see Jill so shaken. I'd always
admired her calm confidence, yet now she seemed
vulnerable.

"I didn't mean to bring up awkward stuff," I
told her.

"It's okay." She pushed a stray honey-blond
curl from her forehead. "In fact, it feels like I could
be real with you and you'd understand my secrets."

"Well ... thanks. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"You are, aren't you?" She looked at me curiously. "I always thought you were quiet because you
were shy."

"It's hard to get a word in with Penny-Love
around," I joked.

"Or maybe you don't say much because you
have your own secrets."

"Me?" I feigned shock. "Not unless you count
the D on my science test that I hid from my
grandmother."

"Ooh, big crime. You deserve jail time."

"I confess, I'm guilty." I held out my wrists.
"Slap on the handcuffs."

She pushed my hands away, smiling. "You
know, it's nice talking to you like this, without
everyone else around. Usually I'm all focused on
running the squad."

"You're good at it and everyone respects you."

"I got them fooled. You may not know this,
but my attitude is one hundred percent bull."

"Nah. Only eighty percent." We both laughed,
then she announced that she was due a break. She left her cleaning supplies and led me to a small
room with a couch, kitchenette, and coffeemaker.

She poured herself coffee and offered me a
cup. I wasn't wild about coffee, so I accepted raspberry tea. We settled on the couch and she turned
to me with an embarrassed expression. "You must
be wondering why I took such a grubby job."

"Well ... a little," I admitted.

"I think I can trust you to keep this between
us. No one else at school knows."

Sipping my tea, I waited.

"I need this job so I can afford cheerleadering.
You have no idea how expensive it is-uniforms,
cheer camp, and traveling."

"Don't your mother and stepfather help out?"

"My stepfather is husband number four, and
he's paying child support for three kids of his own.
There's never enough money." Jill sighed. "My
mother can't save anything either."

"What about your dad?"

"He's not around."

"Still, he should help with your expenses."

She tensed, looking down at her coffee as she
added, "You remember that guy I said I was
scared of?"

"The dead guy?"

"Yeah ... well..." She met my gaze. "He was
my dad."

I was completely speechless and had no idea
how to respond. Finally I managed a feeble, "I'm
sorry."

"Well, I am, too-but not because he's dead. I
caused his death. "

Now I was totally speechless. Mouth-open, jawdropping shock. And I had no clue how to respond
without coming off judgmental or insensitive.

"You must think I'm a horrible person," she
said quietly.

"No ... of course not."

"Don't be nice. I don't deserve it. I should love
my father no matter what ... but I can't ... not
after what he did ..." Then suddenly she started
telling me more than I think either of us expected.

"Once upon a happy family, or so I thought, I
was Daddy's special girl." Her eyes narrowed. "Dad
got laid off and was home a lot. He took me to the
zoo, on picnics, and to movies. I was so proud to be
Daddy's girl, until one night when Mom worked a
double shift and I woke up to feel hands touching
me..."

Her words were raw and powerful, rushing
out like a dry river suddenly washed with a storm. It was like once she started talking, she couldn't
stop. Tears flooded her eyes as she told how he said
it was because he loved her. He warned her not to
tell anyone, but she did. And the police took her
father away.

"He died in prison," she finished.

Jill's aura pulsed with purple and red like
bruises. Her pain jolted me. I thought of my dad
and how he'd taught me to roller blade and play a
wicked game of Scrabble. Even though he was busy
I received regular emails from him, sometimes a
funny lawyer joke or a short message just saying
"hi." I couldn't imagine being afraid him.

"So now you know my worst secret," Jill said
solemnly.

I pantomimed zipping my lips and throwing
away the key.

She pretended to catch the key and tuck it into
her pocket. Then she lifted her coffee cup to her
lips, made a bitter face, and said it was too cold.
Standing abruptly, she crossed to the sink and rinsed
the cup out.

I joined her by the sink and washed out my
own cup. Neither of us said anything, the noise of
running water loud and a lingering scent of coffee.

There was another scent, too, I realized. Smoke?
Like tobacco and mint. And when I turned around,
a transparent figure loomed over the couch where Jill
and I had just been sitting. But this wasn't like my
usual visions - the man's face was horrifying; jagged
and cloudy, like fragments of a puzzle that didn't fit
together.

I heard a gasp behind me and whirled to find
Jill staring, too.

"Ohmygod!" she exclaimed. "Dad!"

Okay, this was beyond spooky. I was used to seeing
ghosts, but not used to other people seeing them
with me.

"Daddy?" Jill moaned, shaking and turning
white as paper. "But you're ... this can't be happening! I don't even believe in ghosts!"

Her father regarded her with hollow skull-like
eyes. His mouth opened and I thought I heard him
say, "Jillian."

She didn't seem to hear him and turned to me
with a wild expression. "Sabine, tell me I'm hallucinating. I'm going crazy, right?"

"You're not crazy." I gripped her hand. "I see
him, too."

"But he's-he's DEAD!"

"I know," I said with understanding.

"So how can he be here?"

"Maybe he wants to tell you something."

"Or he's mad and wants revenge!" She gave a
frightened cry and backed against the wall.

"No, he doesn't." I studied the cloudy figure.
Not a ghost bound to earth, but a spirit. I sensed
sadness, but also peace and love. His mouth opened
and I heard him say, I'rn sorry.

When I turned to Jill, she was cowered against
the wall with her hands covering her face. "Don't
let him hurt me!" she sobbed.

"He can't hurt you," I tried to explain.

"Then why is he here?"

"Because he's worried about you and wants to
give you a message."

"How d-do you know?" she stammered. "I
didn't hear anything."

"Listen, maybe you will. He's calling out to
you."

She lifted her head, wiping a tear from her
cheek. "Daddy?"

He nodded and spoke her name, but I could
tell from Jill's confused expression that she still
couldn't hear him.

"He called you Princess," I told her.

"That's what he used to call me." She hugged
herself, trembling. "What else is he saying?"

"He's asking for forgiveness."

She ran her hand over her forehead. "I don't
know if I can forgive either of us."

"He wants you to know he loves you."