Conjuring Sight (Becky Jo Chronicles Book 1) (3 page)

“I wish I was in the land of cotton, old times there are not forgotten; Look away!  Look away! Look away, Dixie’s Land!”
I am once again awoken by Dixie and the digging trio. This morning I am grateful to be rescued from rehashing Mama’s funeral. It is a nightmare to relive those emotions.  They are still far too raw, evidenced by the taste of blood in my mouth from where I bit the inside of my cheek.

Calming my breathing, I watch the guys work several minutes before I throw on a pair of jeans, an old t-shirt, a pair of sneakers, and a jacket. I head out the door. I feel like doing absolutely nothing. I want to wallow in self pity, but I know it will destroy me. Since I’m up, I force myself to go for a jog. I have several pounds to lose before I can even attempt to model a swimsuit.

I quietly tiptoe out the side door and turn in the opposite direction of the working guys. Despite being saved from reliving Mama’s funeral, I’m actually pretty annoyed they keep waking me up. It’s really rude singing at the top of your lungs each morning at dawn, especially right outside my window. I’m having a difficult enough time sleeping without them waking me.

Veering to the right, I begin jogging.  Nevada is cold, but soon I am covered with perspiration, and my pitiful jog turns into an even more pitiful walk. I knew I was out of shape, but I didn’t know the extent of my flabbiness until faced with the hills of Virginia City. I stop next to the road, heaving for breath. To add insult to injury, I can see Marina’s house in the distance. My life is just a whole lot of pathetic.

I continue down the road. With my current level of fitness, I am forced to take a long walk. I will just have to work my way up to jogging.

I am about to turn around to begin the laborious walk home when I nearly run into a beautiful Native American girl around my own age. Like so many of the others in Virginia City, she, too, is dressed in an old-fashioned costume. I have to give it to the re-enactors; they take historical accuracy very seriously. Her lovely black dress is perfect down to the buttons on the sleeves and the thin handmade lace at her neck. Antique replica shoes adorn her feet.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say on ragged breath, embarrassed I almost ran into her. “I didn’t see you there.”

Her brows furrow as she scans my clothes.

“I don’t have any workout clothes so I have to wear jeans. I know I look pretty ridiculous running in jeans, but they work.” I force a laugh, offering my hand. “I’m Becky Jo. I’m staying with my sister, Marina Douglass.”

She looks suspiciously at the outstretched hand.  “My name is Clara,” she says so quietly I can barely hear her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Clara. You’re lucky you get to wear such beautiful clothes to work. Virginia City is a very interesting place.”

“It is,” she replies with her forehead still wrinkled.

The sun appears behind a hill. I suddenly remember I didn’t tell Marina I was going out.

“I better get going,” I tell her. I resume my walk, calling over my shoulder, “It was really nice meeting you.”

“Will you be walking this way tomorrow morning?” she asks, suddenly catching pace with me.

“I’m trying to get more exercise. Besides, three noisy guys walk past my window every morning,” I explain. “They have woken me the past two mornings.”

The wrinkles in her forehead smooth as though she’s figured out the answer to some big puzzle. “I have decided recently I also need more activity. Would you mind if I were to join you on your walks?”

I smile my first true smile in a very long time. “No, I wouldn’t mind at all. I would love the company.”

Clara smiles in return.  I don’t understand why, but seeing her happy momentarily relieves some of my own sorrow.  “I will see you tomorrow morning,” she says, practically skipping as she turns off from the main road.

I wave goodbye as she disappears behind some large rocks and sagebrush. Finding a friend in Virginia City would be an unexpected gift. I contemplate this as I make the exhausting trek back to Marina’s house.

When I return to the house, I find Marina in a business suit drinking her morning coffee and eating breakfast while reading over a stack of papers. She smiles when she sees me.

“We were wondering where you went. How was the jog?” she asks.

“My walk was fine.” I cringe with more embarrassment as I plop down on the seat next to her. “I met a new friend.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Someone from town?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Her name is Clara. You should see how beautiful she is; I think she’s Native American.”

Marina nods. “The Pyramid Lake Reservation isn’t too far away. She’s probably Northern Paiute.”

“She’s really nice. She’s going to start walking with me each morning.” I eye Marina’s bowl of suspicious grits.

“That’s good news. I’ll feel better not having you walking around by yourself. We do get a few drifters passing through town.” She stacks the papers in front of her. “I’m sorry. I want to spend some time with you, but I’m needed at work.”

I’m really disappointed, but I put my fake, beauty pageant smile on my face. I don’t want to be any sort of burden for her, not after all she’s done for me. “I understand.  I was going to do some homework and help Sunny with the shopping.”

“I’m happy for the company.” Sunny dances around the kitchen in a screaming yellow muumuu. She definitely looks sunny. Her small braids are pulled back in a green bandana. “But, first, eat your grits with almond milk.”

I found out the day before that Sunny is a vegan. What I wouldn’t give for a nice slice of bacon! The grits are nasty, and I have no idea how that’s even possible. How can you possibly ruin it? It’s a good thing I’m not that hungry because I don’t have time to contemplate it before Sunny’s pulling me out the door.

“Did you hear those three guys walking by this morning?” I ask as we get in the car. “They were really noisy.”

“There are a few hell raisers in town.” She gets in next to me.

“Well, I wish they’d raise hell somewhere else.” Even handsome boys need to worry about interrupting a girl’s beauty sleep – or the lack thereof.

Like the day before, downtown Virginia City has a surprising number of tourists and re-enactors.

I watch a woman, in a gorgeous period dress, cross the street with some tourists. “They really take history seriously here, don’t they?” I say, thinking Mama would have liked the town, despite the ghosts.

“Yes,” Sunny answers, staring off into the distance in some kind of trance.

“How did you become Marina’s housekeeper?” I say abruptly.

She laughs, pulling herself out of the trace. “I was knocking on doors, looking for work. She was on the phone when she answered her door, and I thought she hadn’t heard me asking for a job when she covered the receiver to tell me to come in and put in a load of laundry. I’ve worked for her ever since.”

“You don’t mind working for a black woman who is younger than you?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve worked for all sorts of people, and Marina is by far my favorite employer, besides no one could possibly define Marina by her skin color or age.”

“That’s true. How long have you lived in Virginia City?” I continue to question her, wanting to know how all the pieces of the puzzle fit together.

“Eight years, I’m trying to restore the old Blair Mansion.” She scratches a hairy leg.

“Can you tell me about the locals?”

“There’s not much to tell. The locals will be annoyingly friendly,” she answers simply.

“Why do you say that?”

“I just know the people in this town.  For the most part, they’re kind, humble people, and they adore Marina.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“She has helped many of them with their legal problems.”

“Has she helped you?”

“No, not with any legal problems, but she has with other problems.” She cackles, wiping tears out of the corners of her eyes as she laughs at some inside joke I don’t understand. “Honey, why do you think I couldn’t find work? Everyone thinks I’m crazy.”

“Are you?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I am a witch in training.”

Okay?  I raise an eyebrow. This is new. Marina told me Sunny was into spiritualism. I didn’t understand that meant Sunny was some kind of amateur witch.

I ask, “So, you’re into voodoo?”

“Let’s just say I’m into magic, but I completely stay away from black magic. Nothin’ good ever came out of the dark side. Besides, there’s a lot more powerful magic than black magic.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. “What does Marina think of this?”

Sunny smiles at me. “We both know Marina isn’t a woman who believes in magic. She thinks the whole town is a bunch of superstitious fools for thinking I’m a witch.”

“So, do they run when they see you?”

“No, they just walk the other way or turn on their sprinklers.”

“Aren’t they afraid that you’ll curse them or something?”

“No, but that’s a good idea!  Maybe I’ll start with the neighbors and hope it doesn’t leach over to us,” she says sarcastically, indicating she takes her beliefs very seriously.

“What kinds of things can you do?” I change the subject.

“Today, I’m going shopping. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the only thing you’ve done since I started this car is ask me questions. You really are Marina’s sister. Now, let’s go buy some groceries.  I’m thinking of making bean burritos for lunch,” Sunny answers, pointing to a grocery store.

Soon we have a grocery cart filled with food. I take the liberty of adding things I know Marina and I would like such as cheese, eggs, and yogurt. This is a major reason I volunteered to go shopping with Sunny. She huffs and puffs under her breath about empty calories and animal products as I do so, but Marina and I will starve to death if some changes aren’t made.

“Sunny, I didn’t know your niece was visiting?” the clerk says as we begin unloading the cart onto the conveyer belt at checkout.

“My niece isn’t visiting,” Sunny says, not elaborating at all.

“Then, who is this pretty, little girl?” the woman smiles at me.

“Marina’s sister,” Sunny rolls her eyes as she fills her cloth grocery bags with food.

“But …” She’s noticed the obvious, Marina is black, and I’m white.

Sunny looks up from the groceries and smiles a big, toothy smile. “I know. It’s uncanny how much they look alike, even for sisters.  I was just telling Marina this morning that they could be twins!”

I fight to keep a stoic face.

Once we leave the store, Sunny says, “Lena is the worst gossip! I can’t stand people who have to be in everyone else’s business! Serves her right for trying to put her big nose where is doesn’t belong! You’ll find out soon enough that small towns are filled with big gossip. Some of it true, but most of it’s hogwash.”

Sunny’s bean burritos have the texture of Play Dough, but at least they’re edible, covered with a lot of salsa that is. Once I finish, I go to the fridge for some yogurt.

“You should forget that sugar packed stuff and have some soy nuts with me,” Sunny tries to tempt me with a bowl of brown pellets.

“You couldn’t even pawn those off on the squirrels in your backyard,” I retort, opening my yogurt. I was barely able to force myself to eat the burritos.

“The squirrels like my soy nuts just fine, thank you very much.” Sunny gives me the oddest look before smiling. Out of the blue, she adds, “Yes, the universe works in strange, but wonderful ways.”

*     *     *

That evening, I decide to go to bed early because I’ve been sleeping poorly. My room still smells like paint, so I open the window to enjoy the fresh night air. I wrap in blankets to fight away the cold. It has been a pretty good day. I am thinking about Mama when I hear footsteps in the gravel on the path next to my room. With nothing else to do, I discreetly peek out my curtains to see who is walking by.

There he is, Mr. Gorgeous, walking up the path from the opposite direction. Unlike earlier, he is alone. He must have worked all day because his clothes are caked with dirt and his shirt has perspiration stains. Even dirty and covered in sweat, he is incredibly handsome. When he passes my window, he is so close I could reach out and touch his dark, wavy hair.

“What should I do?” he barely whispers in the night.

At first I think he’s talking to me, in a perfect Southern accent, until he continues, “What should I do with Samuel, Papa? Gabe and Rose worry he means me harm, but I can’t just throw him out with the way things are.”

He simply shakes he head as he disappears behind the house.

I don’t know this guy, but my heart fills with empathy. I realize his dad must be dead, and he’s asking for advice from the other side. I can completely relate to that. Deep in thought, I continue to stare out the window for several hours.

It is past midnight when I hear the garage door hum. Marina has finally arrived home from work. A few minutes later, the door quietly opens.

“Becky Jo?” she whispers.

“I’m awake.” I sit up. “Were you able to get caught up at work?”

She makes her way across the dark room and sits next to me on the bed. “Mr. Stanford has a lot of business deals in the works right now. I’m really sorry, but I have to put in some long hours until they are finalized.”