Witch Ball - BK 3 (9 page)

"How can he when everything was my fault?"

He shook his head.

"Yes, it was!" Jill rose to her feet. "If I hadn't
told Mom you wouldn't have gone to jail and you'd
still be alive."

Again, he shook his head.

"Is he saying something?" Jill asked, grabbing
my arm.

"Yes," I replied. "Although it's static-like. He
says you did nothing wrong. He was the one who
was wrong. And he's very sorry."

"I'm sorry too ..." Her voice cracked.

"He wants you to be happy."

"How can I be? I messed things up."

"He says if you can't forgive him, at least forgive yourself."

"I'll ... I'll try." Her eyes shone bright with
tears.

"He adds that he won't be able to come back."

Jill nodded, then whispered, "Bye, Daddy."

I thought I saw a faint smile cross her father's
cloudy face before he faded to gray. Then he was
gone. Only the whiff of mint and cigar smoke
lingered.

I'd stayed a while with Jill, listening while she
talked about her father, not the bad memories, but
the good ones. She was still confused, hating her
father yet loving him, too. Healing would take
time. When we parted, her aura was brighter. And
I was relieved she hadn't asked me the tough questions, like why a visit from a spirit didn't scare me
and how come I could hear her father when she
couldn't.

That was minor compared to a startling realization I had while pedaling home.

Like Manny foretold, Jill had been visited by
the person she feared.

The first prediction had come true.

I tried not to freak out-and failed.

I wanted to blame this all on coincidence, but
what were the chances that Jill's father would appear the day after the prediction? Also, it was hard
to ignore the fact that his spirit showed up when I
was with Jill-as if I was a conduit for the other
side. Would he have still appeared if Jill had been
alone?

Like the whirling bicycle spokes, my thoughts
spun in circles. Since one prediction came true,
did that mean the others would too? I refused to
believe I was going to die in five-I mean, fourdays. That was just crazy. But what if . . . something did happen?

I returned home, both physically and mentally
exhausted. I longed to crawl in bed and hide under
my covers for the next four days. I'd be safe in my
room, and on Friday everything would be okay.

Instead of heading for my room, I joined my sister and grandmother in the kitchen. Sweet aromas
swirled around me like a warm hug. Amy and Nona
sat at the table, enjoying conversation and blueberry
waffles. They smiled up at me, and I thought how
much I loved them and they loved me, too. It was
impossible to imagine either of them ever doing anything to harm me.

"We saved waffles for you." Amy gestured to a
covered plate.

"Thanks." I took the plate.

"You didn't say much in your note," Nona
pointed out. "Where have you been?"

"With a friend."

"Well I know it wasn't Josh," Amy said teasingly. "Because he called and asked where you were.
I told him I didn't know but that you'd probably be
back soon, and I was right."

"Josh called!" I nearly dropped my plate.

"Yes," my grandmother answered. "About
twenty minutes ago."

"I'll be right back." I moved for the phone,
but Nona stopped me.

"Don't bother, he's not there. He said he'd call
when he returned from a fishing trip."

A fishing trip? I didn't even know he liked to
fish. But then he didn't know everything about me
either-not yet. But I had to tell him soon or Evan
would ruin everything.

I didn't say much while Amy and Nona made
plans to do something fun before Mom picked
Amy up this evening. I didn't care if we went shopping, out to lunch, or saw a movie. My brain was
stuck on worry. I didn't believe the prediction, but
how could I ignore it? I really needed to talk with
someone-and thought of Manny.

Excusing myself, I left the table and went to
the phone.

"Hey, Beany," Manny greeted when he got on
the line.

I didn't waste any time, and without revealing
personal details about Jill, I told Manny his prediction had come true.

"Wow!" he said in awe. "My powers amaze
even me.

"It wasn't you," I chided. "It was the witch ball."

"Can't a guy enjoy his moment of glory?"

"Not when my life is at stake. Remember what
you predicted for me?"

"Oh ... the death thing." His tone grew serious. "That's not going to happen."

"Jill didn't believe her prediction either."

"But you're safe. You've got the other side on
your side."

"If you mean Opal, she doesn't know anything
about the witch ball. And I don't want to wait till
Thursday to find out what happens. I've got to take
action now."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Then I told him what I wanted.

The rest of the day passed quickly-too quickly
considering it might be one of my last.

Amy, Nona, and I had a picnic at a River
Oaks Park. We goofed around on the playground,
swooshing down a curved slide, then kicking high
on swings. Nona challenged us to a game of hopscotch-and won. I felt embarrassed for acting like a kid, but none of my classmates were around, so I
figured, why not?

We finished the afternoon by going to Trick and
Treats for dessert. The owner, Velvet, was delighted
to see us and offered us free samples of fudge. We
had yummy flavors like cheesecake, caramel pecan,
butterscotch, and pumpkin swirl.

Amy teased that she must be in heaven, and I
told her she was right.

While my sister examined glass cases full of
delicious treats, I found myself studying Velvet. I
didn't know her well, but she and my grandmother
were close friends and shared an interest in otherworld topics. She had no wrinkles, so could be anywhere from thirty to fifty. She spoke in a lilting
British accent and resembled a proper nanny in
high heels, a tailored skirt, and jacket. But in my
mind I saw her in flowing robes while she chanted
healing spells. There was something almost magical
about Velvet.

While Amy and Nona sat on a small wicker
table, sipping soda and sampling sweets, I whispered to Velvet that I wanted to speak to her privately. She made the pretense of needing my help
lifting a box, then we slipped into the back room filled with New Age items like candles, potions,
crystals, incense, books, charms, and more. Only
select customers knew about this special room.

"Tell me what's on your mind," Velvet said, her
brow pinched with concern. "How is your grandmother? Has her condition grown worse?"

"She's doing okay-but I'm not." I hung my
head. "Do you know anything about witch balls?"

"Of course." She turned to point at a cluster of
delicate glass balls hanging in a display window. "I
have several for sale."

"Those are very pretty-but they're new. What
do you know about really old ones?"

"Just the superstitions about warding off evil
spirits. Why do you ask?"

"Because I sort of inherited an old witch balland its ghost."

I explained that the witch ball was a gift from a
distant relative who kept it in her attic for decades,
how Nona called the ball "evil" and freaked when it
moved from my room to the kitchen all by itself.

"And that's not all it did," I added solemnly.

Then I told her about the predictions.

"Oh, my stars!" she exclaimed when I'd finished.
"And one of these predictions has already come
true?"

"Yes." I shivered. "I was there when it happened."

"So now you're afraid your prediction is real."

"I don't want to believe that, but I can't help
being scared."

"Of course you are. This is clearly the work of
a disturbed ghost."

"Opal, my spirit guide, said the same thing. But
she didn't know anything else, and though I can usually see ghosts, I couldn't see anything around the
ball."

"Not a good sign," she said, tapping her fingers against a glass counter. "That means the ghost
has unusual powers."

"Like what?" I bit my lip.

"My customers often share peculiar tales, and
this reminds me of a haunted, ornate hand mirror
in a New Orleans antique shop. No one would buy
the mirror because when they looked at it, their reflection distorted into something bloody awful.
One lady suffered a heart attack after peering into
the mirror."

"How terrible! So what happened to the
mirror?"

"The owner of the antique shop decided to
destroy it."

"Did it work?" I asked hopefully.

Velvet shook her head. "No. When he tried to
break the glass, he felt hands on his throat and
blacked out. So he gave up trying to destroy the
mirror. He considered calling an exorcist, then had
another idea."

"What?"

"He put the mirror and its ghost up on E-bay.
Made a bundle and shipped his problem off to
someone else."

"Tempting idea." I gave a grim smile. "But I
couldn't do that to someone else. Too bad the
postal service doesn't ship to the other side."

"More's the pity," she said half-seriously. "It
seems to me you have a two-fold problem. You need
to prevent the prediction from happening and also
get rid of the ghost."

"I can't reason with a ghost I can't see." This
haunting was totally different than that ghost I'd
encountered in Pine Peaks.

"You'll need to protect yourself." Velvet stared
around her room, then strode over to a shelf and
picked up a small bottle and handed it to me. "Next
time you're near the witch ball, dab on a small
amount of this."

I looked at the oblong green bottle with a label
that said Chamo-Skull. "What is it?"

"A fragrance used for relaxation."

"To calm the ghost?"

"No-you." She shook her head. "You'll need
to be calm so you can perform a cleansing ceremony with holy water and prayers. Be firm when
you speak, do not show any fear. Tell the ghost in
no uncertain terms to leave you alone."

"Will that keep me safe?" I asked hopefully.

"I can't promise that." Velvet seemed worried,
and her high heels click-clicked as she crossed to a
cabinet with shelves of bottles, boxes, and potted
plants. She pinched off a leaf from a blue-gray plant,
sprinkled on a thick dark liquid, then tucked it inside a small satchel, which she fastened with a ribbon around my neck.

"What's this?" I asked, fingering the soft satchel.

"Extra protection . . . just in case." Worry
creased in her forehead as she slipped her arm
around my shoulder. "Good luck, my dear. You'll
need it."