A Witch's Curse (6 page)

“
What do I owe you?”

“
Nothing,” she said. “It’s on the house. Just get back with me on how it made you feel. Trust in the potion. Here’s a rule though, please don’t drive until forty eight hours after having consumed it; while it won’t feel intoxicating, it does render you incapable of operating heavy machinery.”

“
Thank you so much,” Rose said, and it was then they hugged.

“
Before I go, there’s something else I should tell you. I kind of cursed three girls at my school today.”

Alexis gave an expression of utter horror.

“
It was just a sneezing fit on each one of them, to last through the weekend.”

“
You know as well as I do it was bad energy to place upon yourself,” Alexis said with a sigh. “Yet I must say sneezing is not the worst thing to wish on someone your age. Perhaps the universe will pay you back with a case of the common cold, or a bout of nasty sniffles. Just don’t be surprised when it happens, and don’t do something like that again without consulting me first.”

“
Sure thing,” Rose said, heading for the door.

On her exit from the Realm of The Out of Print, she stopped to put the anti sleep walking potion into her pocket to ensure that it would be safe.

After looking both ways to cross the street, she saw a black shape located in the distant park. Near an empty bus stop and behind a metal fence, the man dressed in black had his hood slung over his head. His features were encased in a circle of shadows.

Yet it was not his attire which alarmed her. Rather, it was the way he stood still, like one in a series of widely known snapshots taken during WWII of an executioner in a firing squad, standing solitary in front of a war ravaged terrain.

She knew he was looking directly at her. Rose decided to go home quickly.

6

Rose was not sure if the potion that Alexis had administered would even help her begin to sleep, let alone cure her late night wanderings, but at the moment it was her only choice.

Going to bed that night, Rose had an uncanny feeling that someone was watching her. This was not an uncommon experience, but after the situation today with the strange man gazing at her from a mile in the opposite direction, her terror towards having a stalker was something she could not shake. Still, she tried her best to get the notion off her mind, making her bed and looking out her window once every five seconds to remind herself that no one was there.

Staring at her lit up and comfortable bedroom, she decided to do a bit of cleaning. She put in a CD and let the heavy harmonies wash over her.

Rose began to organize her closet until she felt something brush against the back of her heel. Deeming it to be nothing more than the edge of a blanket hanging from her bed, she continued rearranging supplies near her wardrobe, until she felt whatever was against her foot begin to move.

Turning around, she saw a cat. The feline was so black that it could have camouflaged itself with any patch of soil after dusk.

“
Shoo,” she said in a firm voice.

The animal turned its head sideways, licking its lips for a second, as if the creature was not even aware that there was a human near bye, and then walked to the wall behind it, scaling the barrier with the ease of a veteran rock climber making their way up an amateur’s peak. The cat leapt through the window and landed on a branch of the tree rocking with the air stream outside.

She shut the window and locked the hinges, taking in a deep breath.

Trying to keep the event of the household pet escaping into her private space out of her mind, she decided that it was now or never to drink the infusion.

Not entirely confident in the potion’s ability to fix anything, she had given herself a heaping bundle of money. The currency consisted of her savings through out the previous week. It came from saving whatever lunch money she had from her father, choosing not to buy any of the processed food served in the cafeteria. It was a back up plan if an emergency happened and she was stranded somewhere upon opening her eyes. She also had a miniature yet effective bottle of pepper spray connected to her house keys in her pocket. It was odd going to bed fully dressed, yet it was necessary.

Pulling the potion out of her backpack, she took a sip of the drink to make sure it was palatable. It had a slight indication of mint, and discovered that its flavors were close to a soda that had lost its carbonation. No longer fearing what taste it could have, she downed it in one gulp.

Rose lied on her bed and waited. Even within a minute of having consumed the brew, she felt her eyelids becoming heavier. She pulled the covers up to her chin and stared at the ceiling, letting the music in the stereo go, hoping the melodies would soothe her to sleep.

In seventeen minutes she was no longer awake. In the dream she was moving through a moss sheltered labyrinth, and her mother was screaming her name out, attempting to find her so as to kill her.

She breathed. Within seconds after coming to, it was clear that the liquid remedy had not done its trick.

Groaning, yawning, and stretching out, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, trying to adjust her vision so as to take in her surroundings. Rose was lying in the middle of a clearing. The meadow was greener than most photographs of Ireland she had viewed. A multitude of pine trees encircled her, their twigs blocking the bright sun from scorching the blades of grass.

Standing up within the dark covered part of land she had been sprawled out upon, a dirt path was visible within her peripheral vision, one leading into an overgrowth of plant life and then a mountain.

Rose had not thought of bringing a cell-phone with her, and now she was beginning to regret it.

Turning around, she saw another natural lane that lead into a much more mysterious looking setting, but something told her that at least it would not be a dead end, or put her in front of a monstrous crest. She decided to follow it, knowing well that this could be a decision leading to an unfortunate outcome, but that was her option.

After strolling through the woods, swatting aside insect life which flew at her, a glimmer of hope arose when she saw a telephone booth in the distance.

She sprinted towards it, leaping over a fallen log and skirting through a concourse covered in pine needles and a few spare brown leaves, and once she was in front of the payphone, she was in the parking lot of a gas station.

After calling collect, she punched in the number of the cab service to the best of her memory. The digits ended up being right, and after giving the request to come and get her to a cigarette stained voice on the other line, they both hung up. Rose stepped out of the glass booth and then walked over to the sidewalk.

Staring across the street, she could have sworn that a vague figure was watching her, but when trying to catch a closer glimpse, the person disappeared like smoke. A shiver slithered down her spine.

A yellow vehicle was there seventeen minutes later. She sat in the back, knowing well that the dirt and dew covering her clothes would stain the seat. She just hoped to make a narrow escape after paying the fair without having to dish out money for damage to the interior.

After he pulled into the driveway, the cabbie looked at Rose in the rearview mirror.

“
You can have this one for free,” he said.

“
What? Why?”

“
You look like you’ve had a worse night than me. And my night wasn’t good.”

“
Keep this as a tip,” she said, handing him a twenty dollar bill before quickly stepping out of the car, in spite of his protests.

Rose walked into the house and found it to be quiet. Her father was being overworked this week, and as a result was sleeping in later than usual - a fact she was grateful for.

An epiphany hit her. It would be impossible to drive herself to school. Driving would have been much more convenient, but Alexis had told her she couldn’t operate a vehicle until forty eight hours after having finished the sleepwalking potion, and despite how it failed to work, she learned long ago not to question the system of the craft.

She tiptoed upstairs quietly, grabbing her backpack after stuffing it full of new clothes, hoping they wouldn’t be too wrinkled by the time she would get to the school grounds. Skipping steps on her way back down the flight, she ran through the door and onto the lit porch. She waved at the taxi. He pulled back into the driveway.

The cabbie rolled his window down. “I‘m here. What is it?”

“
Can you drive me to the high school? It‘s about seven minutes away.”

He said yes, and she jumped into the backseat.

The cab pulled up to the curb outside of the gymnasium, and he stared at her for a few seconds.

“
Is this one for free?” Rose asked, trying to wear her most charming smile.

“
Depends. You gonna give me another tip?”

She begrudgingly gave him a five, hoping he would not ask for more. When he did not, she leapt out and made her way straight to the ladies bathroom, where she could change into suitable clothes, and perhaps borrow perfume from another student so as to mask the scent of the prairie still adhering to her jeans.

She walked out clad in cleaner attire.

A janitor was standing in the hallway. He was standing there with a mop bucket and a smile on his face. “You just got here, didn’t you?”

“
What do you mean?” Rose asked.

“
This was a minimum day.”

“
What time is it?”

“
Twelve forty seven.”

After taking in the empty hallway before her, she thanked him and then paced out. All of the buses had left, so once again she would have to find a way home. She knew she could walk four miles; it was not that long of a journey, but it still did not seem like a very safe option. There would be too many people and possible problems on her trip there, not to mention her newfound stalker. Of course, on any normal day this would have been an irrational thought, but it was not at this juncture in her life. Not when men dressed in the robes of a twelfth century monk stalked her.

Knowing that it would not take her long to walk back home, considering her father was under the impression that it was a full day, she decided to pass the time by going to her favorite place whenever she wanted to be alone.

Within four minutes she was near the football field and bleachers. There was a tree close to the stands that she loved for its shade and spotlessness. She set her bag down and retrieved a book she was reading, titled The Shipping News by E. Annie Proulx.

She looked out at the field, and the Lake Pines football team was practicing. Even though the rest of the student body had left, there was no rest for the athletes.

The jocks. The guys she hated because of how they smelled like a basement in the summer cluttered with expired canned foods and usually had no manners.

She saw a quarterback throw the ball so poorly that it looked as if it had not even spun, but rather hit the ground after a mediocre toss, one resembling what a five year old might have accomplished when attempting to chuck the pigskin half way across the field. A few of the other teammates circled him for a minute before huddling together.

The guy who had weakly thrown the ball walked over to the bench. When she took her eyes off the words of the novel, she saw him walking up hill, towards her. Rose tried to hide her face in between the covers of the book, but before she knew it, his shadow was blocking the heat of the sun from her skin.

“
I’ve read that thing twice,” he said.

She set the tome down in her lap, filled with inclusive skepticism. “Really?”

“
No,” he said with a snort. “Hey, can I sit next to you? I’m already dirty, so I don’t mind getting the muddy part.”

“
If you insist,” she said, moving aside her pack so as to give him more space.

He sat down, stretching his legs and looking out at the player‘s field. “Do you have anything to eat?”

Rose rolled her eyes.

“
Don’t take offense,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve burned more than my day’s worth of calories. Okay, I get it. Let’s push that aside.”

There was an uncomfortable pause between the two.

“
So what’s your name?”

“
Rose Whelan,” she said, reluctantly extending her hand out and regretting it, knowing this action was nothing more than a result of impulsiveness and half-witted courtesy.

“
That’s a beautiful name,” he said.

“
How?” Rose asked. It was the one thing she carried over as a result of her overbearing and intolerable mother. Rose was given by Karen, not Damian.

“
I like it. That‘s all.”

“
Thanks.” She lowered her head, knowing she couldn’t resist the question, despite how every logical part of her being wanted not to. “What’s yours?”

“
Grady,” he said. “Grady Bell. You can compliment me on my given name later, because right now I’m interested in hearing about you.”

“
Funny,” she said, her voice a monotone. “I was thinking the exact same thing, except I was contemplating how fascinating you are.”

“
In what way?” Grady’s eyes glistened with curiosity.