Chapter Sixteen
Joshua opened his eyes before the alarm sounded off at four-thirty. He had to be at the plant by six.
He turned off the alarm. Colbie turned over but remained asleep. She had come into his room in the middle of the night, just a few hours ago.
Joshua realized that sleeping with a woman was pleasant; Colbie was warm and she didn’t snore. He resisted the urge to kiss her in her sleep. No sense in teasing her.
Brenda left the house after everyone else had gone, driving to Alice White’s house, several miles away.
Brenda had never spoken to Alice and she wondered if Max should have gone with her.
Who am I helping by doing this? she thought. Certainly not me.
She drove out of the city limits, passing farm after farm. She took a dirt road that went on forever, it seemed. Alice White owned hundreds of acres, one of the oldest farms in the area, and the most secluded.
A crazy old witch with property Max didn’t own. Brenda could tell he resented Alice. He said she was the one who got the ball rolling on the whole circle, making it stronger with each member. She and Liz spent days working on their books, practicing rituals. They liked the power, couldn’t get enough.
Brenda came to a dead end, the driveway to the main house. The gate was open, so she kept on driving.
No one had mowed the lawn in years. Old farm equipment and vehicles were resting in the weeds. This place was no longer a farm, but a junk yard.
The local folklore was that the Whites had been related to the Curtises, owners of the legendary Curtis house. All crazy people. Inbreeding had gone on. Brenda grinned. Small town imaginations.
The house was a wreck. Plastic sheets covered the windows, a tarp over the roof. Siding was hanging, swinging in the breeze.
Brenda parked as close as she could get to the house, a grand Victorian once. Brenda looked down at the decayed wooden steps, looking for a handrail. She was glad to be wearing sneakers.
She made it to the front door. Before she could knock, she saw a face through the beveled glass.
The chain was pulled back before the door was opened.
Alice White was almost seventy years old; however, she stood tall, long white hair brushed away from her face. Her skin was weathered from age and sun, but her large dark eyes were bright. She was slender, but not frail. A crucifix on a chain hung from her neck. She wore a sweater with fleece pants, covered in cat hair.
“Are you Alice White?” Brenda asked.
The woman smiled. Her dentures were stained. The smell of the house had reached Brenda’s nose. She looked down, and saw three cats at the woman’s feet, covered by a pair of battered fuzzy slippers.
“Yes, I’m Alice. What can I do for you?”
Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. She pulled at her crucifix, made of silver.
“I’m Brenda Hildebrand. I’m Max’s wife. Joshua’s stepmother.”
“Oh. Well, come on in.”
Brenda stepped in, the floor creaking. The odors of sweat, cats, and old food greeted her. Books were stacked from floor to ceiling in the living room. Antique vases were covered in dust. Cobwebs in the corners. Two more cats rested on a clear patch on an old olive-green sofa. Brenda looked up and saw a chandelier covered in dust and grime, a portrait of Jesus on the wall.
“I hurt my back,” Alice said. “Haven’t been able to clean. Let’s go in the kitchen.”
Brenda followed her. The kitchen area looked at bit cleaner, dishes drying in the rack. The floor should have been mopped. Brenda could see four litter boxes near the back door. Another picture of Jesus, framed, was on the wall above the kitchen table. A Celtic crucifix stuck to the old refrigerator.
Brenda had noticed that most of the stacked books were religious texts.
“Would you like some coffee?” Alice asked.
“No. Thank you.”
“Alice, I’m sure you know about Marilyn and Lois...”
Alice leaned against the oven. “Of course I do. The whole town is talking about it.”
“Joshua was very ill.”
“I know. Is he better now?”
“Yes. But he has memory loss; he doesn’t know about what happened before he went to the hospital. Did you make him forget?”
“Me? Dear God, no. I haven’t used the evil since Liz died.”
“Is that what you call it? Evil?”
“Harvester was–is–a demon.”
“Joshua has a baby on the way.”
“Protect that baby.”
“I don’t know how. I thought you could help me.”
“Make sure the baby is baptized—“
“You showed Liz how to put together spell books. Grimoires.”
“Never grimoires. None of us were that powerful.”
“You have to have something hidden away.”
“I burned it all when Liz died.”
Brenda reached into her coat pocket, pulling out something that made Alice touch her crucifix. “You stay out of that basement, you hear?”
The old key was in Brenda’s palm. “The spells you and Liz were using got pretty wild, I hear. Harvester sort of favored you, too. You got rid of the drought. Max was able to start the plant. Max has never brushed it off as coincidence.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Your old spell books.”
“God would never forgive me if I did.”
“You didn’t destroy all of that hard work, did you? I’m sure you miss the power, the hold you had on others. Christianity makes women so helpless; a life of penitence for being born female.”
“I did far worse.”
“Harvester must have been pleased. Or is he collecting on the debt?”
“Why do you care?”
“I care about Max and Joshua. And the baby.”
“You want the power to control them. But you’re out of your league, Brenda Hildebrand. Maybe you should get exactly what you deserve.”
“Now you sound like a witch.”
“Wait here.”
Alice left the kitchen. Brenda heard her going up the fragile stairs. A cat, black with white ‘socks’; entered the kitchen. The animal hissed at her, then turned and left.
Brenda held the key between her fingers. Alice had no right to tell her where to go or what to do.
Alice entered the kitchen, a tome resembling a large scrapbook in her hands. The gray cover was worn, nothing written or drawn on it. “This is what I have left. Enjoy. May God have mercy on your soul.”
The pages were almost falling out, loose pieces of paper hanging over the edges. “This is it?”
“What were you expecting? Eye of newt?”
“You must have more. Your tools...”
“All gone. You don’t need that stuff, anyway. You’re just a novice...”
“I only want to keep things under control—“
“Harvester will have control. He already does.”
“Then what can I do?”
“Let the girl have her baby and leave town. Give her some money and let her go. None of them should be used.”
“The drought could return. The plant is in the middle of a merger—“
“Let it all go.”
Brenda took the book, hugging it against her.
“Where did you find that key?” Alice asked.
“In the Jeep.”
“Poor Joshua. But he had a right to know.”
“He doesn’t remember now. And it has to stay that way until the baby is born. Can I keep the book for a while?”
“You can keep it forever.”
“Be careful, Alice.”
“I’ll be all right. My God is faithful.”
Brenda drove with the window open, trying to get the smell of Alice’s house out of her nose.
The old book didn’t smell much better. Brenda continued to the end of the dirt road before she pulled over.
Alice was trying to scare me, she thought. But she lives alone out here. S
he’s the only one left from the circle, besides Bonnie and Ruth.
Brenda placed the book in her lap over the steering wheel. She turned the cover.
Alice did not personalize the book; less of a journal, more of a folder, but some things were glued to the yellowing pages. A few photos, some drawings. A sketch with a pentagram in the middle, a design of stars and letters on the edges. Brenda did not recognize many of the faces in the photos. Her gaze stopped on the image of a little boy in shorts and a striped T-shirt, his name written on the back.
Davey.
Brenda did not think to ask about the boy. He had lived in that house with Alice.
The drought. The plant. Nothing was mentioned in this book. A few spells were written down on notebook paper. She studied more photos. Liz. Blonde hair and her big face. Broad shoulders. She never showed off, always the earth mother.
Brenda came upon another drawing, this time on a page. A pregnant young woman in a loose dress, her striking features familiar. Written above her head:
The vessel.
Brenda shuddered. Poor Colbie. They were all dumb to think they were safe.
Brenda put the book back on the passenger side seat. She started the car, ready to head home.
She was back on the main road towards town when the engine started to sputter. When it stalled, she put the car in neutral, pulling over. She turned the ignition several times, but heard only silence.
Brenda sighed in frustration. She pulled her cell phone from her purse. When she put the phone to her ear, she heard whispering, followed by a soft clapping, becoming louder. She turned the phone off, but could still hear the voices.
“Beauty queen...”
“The bombshell...”
A woman’s voice. Brenda grabbed her purse and phone, opening the door. She stepped out of the car and broke into a run. When she stopped, the whispering came back, so she kept running.
A small motel was off the main road. Brenda headed in that direction, the music filling her head before she entered the parking lot.
“Miss Michigan...”
She stopped in the paved lot. She dropped her purse, catching her breath while searching for the concealer stick, a fair shade that matched her skin. She bent over and made a circle around herself on the pavement. She didn’t care if anyone thought she was crazy. The stick broke, so she squeezed it between her fingers, drawing a clumsy five-sided star. No spell could get past a protective pentagram. Brenda stepped into the center, raising her arms.
Before she could say a prayer to Hecate, the sounds started to fade. She took deep breaths and started to calm down. She stayed in the circle for several minutes, hoping no one drove into the lot. She had an ink pen, so she drew another pentagram on her chest, above her breasts. She put the contents back in her purse and returned to her car.
The engine started and Brenda finished driving home. She made sure Alice’s book was locked in the trunk.
“Max, what are we going to do?” Brenda asked.
“Nothing. Don’t tell Colbie or Joshua about what happened. And burn that book.”
They were in their bedroom, the door shut. Colbie and Joshua were in their beds asleep.
“I can’t do that,” Brenda said. “Maybe I can use the book to help Josh.”
“He’s starting to remember little things now. It’s only a matter of time.”
“And how much did he know before smashing up his Jeep?”
“He knew enough to be furious. His heart was broken because of all of the lies.” Max rested against the pillows. “He’s asking questions about Davey. He didn’t remember the boy until Ruth mentioned him.”
“He might remember that, too.”
“He was only three years old. He had forgotten most of Liz’s insanity, including Alice and Rebecca. Promise me you’ll never go out there again.”
“I promise. Any news from the police?”
“They questioned a few suspects. Even a few guys from the plant. Like Alton.”
“Alton? He lives with his mother. Collects Star Trek stuff.”
“Yeah. Those guys are real thorough detectives.”
“They’re idiots.”
“Well, why don’t we go down to the police station and tell them everything about Josh?”
Brenda didn’t miss the sarcasm. “And do you think they would believe any of it?”
“Not a bit. I was lucky when most of Liz’s stuff burned up. At least I didn’t have to explain anything.”
Brenda had told Colbie about her experience at Alice’s farm and the terror after.
Who would have that kind of power to stop a car? Colbie thought. To make Brenda so scared, she had to run away and make a protection circle?
Brenda had been practicing more during the day, but she wouldn’t tell Colbie where she went with her books and tools, she liked to be alone.
Colbie wandered over to her window, no longer afraid of the lacy curtains.
Brenda was surprised when Colbie told her the truth about what she and Anna did to help Joshua. Now, Brenda was willing to teach her more. Brenda should be including Anna, then they could have a circle of three, but Brenda didn’t trust Anna, who didn’t like keeping too many secrets and the one about Joshua was the worst.
We can’t tell him now, Colbie thought. He might start to remember everything, and even I couldn’t believe it, but Brenda wouldn’t lie about what Liz’s circle did all those years ago. How did they all get pulled in? Did they really believe they ended the drought? Grandma said they were strong, but Liz’s attachment to Harvester was stronger.