Poltergeeks (10 page)

 
 

 
 
 

We were back in my house within the hour. For the first time in my life, I couldn't feel my mother's presence. Sure, I was surrounded by the physical reminders of the home she'd built for both of us: a half-filled coffee pot from the morning's breakfast; my mother's tapestries hanging on the walls leading up the stairs to her bedroom; a large double boiler filled with the disgusting horseradish concoction she'd been making. Everything in our entire home represented my mother and our lives together; but the knowledge that she was no longer just a holler away sliced through the numbness like a machete and told me one cold hard fact: Mom might not survive.

  Betty wanted to send Marcus home, but I needed his support. He'd called his parents to let them know Mom was in the hospital and he was going to be staying over to keep me company, God love him. The doctors were mystified by the fact there was no apparent physical injury to my mother that would medically justify why she was in a coma. She was in perfect health and her xrays showed no trauma, but she was unconscious and unresponsive nonetheless. When they asked me what happened, I had to lie of course. Nobody believes in magic even though it surrounds us every single day. I said she simply 'collapsed' at school.

  Betty padded into the living room with two steaming hot mugs of tea in her hand – not exactly my beverage of choice when it's a stifling hot evening, but her heart was in the right place. She handed one to Marcus and I took the other without saying a word. She offered a warm smile and then sat down in the armchair opposite Marcus and me.

  "You're going to have to pull yourself together, Julie," she said in a gentle but firm voice. "We need to help your mother."

  I furrowed my brow as I sipped at the tea. "I'm trying – just hard to focus right now. You said you were a tutelary – what's that?"

  Betty nodded. "Tutelary spirit, actually. It's really rather complicated but in a nutshell I'm your guardian and I've borrowed this body in order to provide you with guidance and protection while we figure out what happened to your Mom."

  "Borrowed this body?" Marcus gasped. "Well who the hell is Betty Priddy? Whose body are we talking to then?"

  "Well Betty Priddy is me, of course. My true name is unpronounceable to your kind, so I concocted this one for whenever I might be needed. The body I am occupying is that of Margaret Somerton, who, until about four hours ago, was suffering from a coronary embolism and quite near death, I'd say."

  "I can't believe we're actually having this conversation," said Marcus as he sniffed at the mug of tea. "What kind of hallucinogen did you spike us with? I don't do drugs!"

  Betty heaved a weary sigh. "There are no drugs in your beverage. I am what I claim to be and we don't have time to bicker about whether you choose to believe me or not. The legal paper confirms that I'm Julie's legal guardian and we need to focus on helping her mother."

  Of course she was right.

  I'd encountered all kinds of spirits as part of my training to become a witch, but I'd never heard of animistic spirits before. Not that it mattered what kind of spirit Betty was because they all have one thing in common: they're completely amoral. They don't experience their existence through the veil of human belief and values and that's why Betty was being so nonchalant about acquiring the body of someone who was near death.

  "She's just doing her job, Marcus," I said. "Chill, okay?"

  Marcus put his mug of tea on the end table and folded his arms across his chest.

  "Fine, whatever," he said, scowling at Betty. "Just steer the hell clear of
this
body, lady. Got it?"

  I turned my attention back to Betty and said, "So how did you know to show up today? Contacting a spirit usually requires some kind of powerful summoning spell."

  Betty shrugged. "I simply knew something terrible had happened. Such was the compact between your mother and I, bound together by pure magic and a promise that should anything ever happen to her, my essence would take form in the mortal realm. I needed a host to contain my essence and since Mrs Somerton was indeed very close to passing on, it made sense to borrow her until all this nasty business of comas and poltergeists goes away."

  "And how does my mother know you?" I asked. "I mean, you're a spirit so I'll assume you don't exactly have a mailing address."

  "She summoned a tutelary spirit," said Betty with a sniff. "I answered the call."

  "That's it?" Marcus grumbled. "She just snapped her fingers and
poof!
There you were?"

  "It doesn't work that way," she said with a shrug. "I am here in an advisory capacity only and Julie's mother knew this when she made arrangements for her care in the event of her…"

  "Her death?" I snapped. "Might as well say it because that's probably what's going to happen to her."

  Betty's features hardened and she stomped her foot on the carpet in frustration. "That's enough!" she growled. "Much is about to happen and none of it good. I answered your mother's call all those years ago because she demanded a guardian who knew the answers but not the questions."

  I gave her a helpless look and threw my arms in the air.

  "The answers but not the questions? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You're speaking in frigging riddles, for crying out loud!"

  "That is what I am bound to in accordance with your mother's will when she summoned me, Julie. I recommend you think good and hard about the nature of my being here. It is entirely possible your mother believes that a natural curiosity exists within you to ask the right questions, and I will happily answer when asked. In short, your mother is confident enough in your intellect that you will find those questions when the time arises. I'm thinking that time is now, wouldn't you agree?"

  I was exhausted. My head was swimming with emotions ranging from shock at nearly losing Mom to rage that whatever was responsible for her being in a coma was out there somewhere. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. I had to remain objective and it was pointless to direct my frustration at Betty because she was doing what my mother had willed her to do.

  "Look, Betty," I said trying to contain my frustration. "I'm sorry, okay? You said that a whole bunch of stuff was going down, so I'm assuming that it has to do with whatever put my mother in the hospital. If that's the case, I'll start with the poltergeist at Mrs Gilbert's house. Do you know who or what yanked it into the mortal world?"

  Betty shook her head. "I know that a magical presence was tainted with the stench of malice that is benchmark for a very ancient form of dark magic. Mortal practitioners like you and your mother could easily detect the malice but neither of you are sensitive enough to trace its origin."

  I blinked at her a few times and then asked, "All right. Is it fair to assume more poltergeist activity is about to occur?"

  "I suspect that is the case, yes."

  "Then is the poltergeist activity part of some evil plot or something?" Marcus asked. "I mean, why drag a spirit back into the world of the living unless you're going to use it for something pretty nasty? Maybe whoever did it is… I don't know, enslaving the spirits or something?"

  Betty flattened her skirt and squared her shoulders. "I don't know of any mortal devices or scientific methods that would contain a spiritual entity's will. No, I think this goes well beyond the realm of alchemy. Use your instincts, Julie. They'll lead you in the right direction."

  Great. Not only did Betty pull Jedi mind tricks on people, she actually sounded like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

  I chewed my lip for a second and considered what I'd been taught about spirits and the afterlife. Namely, that when a person dies, their immortal soul normally crosses over to what is conventionally called "the other side". The other side is a manifestation of positive energy or negative energy – in other words, heaven or hell. Mom says that how a person's immortal soul winds up in either place is a question that nobody really knows the answer to. Religious people consider it to be a matter of faith whereas good old Marcus hypothesizes there is an afterlife pipeline for every single one of us and that the negative or positive influences of our deeds in life will determine what happens when we die. The living energy that fuels our very existence and acts as a force for good goes to the happy place and the negative energy, the spark that ignites the darkness that exists in all human beings… Well, it fuels the bad place. So at the moment of death, Marcus thinks your soul is dragged to whichever locale contains more energy than the other.

  In order to pull a spirit back from either domain would require some pretty amazing magic and the ingredient for the spell would have to be enhanced by the power of emotions like jealousy or hate which can provide just the right kick to make a spell deadly.

  "My gut tells me that if a spirit was brought back to the mortal plane, then this all has to be part of some larger scheme. Maybe the spirit is being used as part of a spell recipe. I mean, what use is the ghost of someone who's been long dead?"

  Betty crossed her legs and a look of mild satisfaction formed on her face. "You're thinking like an experienced witch, I'm impressed," she said. "The answer to that question is staring you straight in the face and the sorry victim is lying in a hospital bed right now."

  I shuddered as the truth hit me like a freight train.

  "Crescent Ridge wasn't the target. It was just a ruse to so it could go after my mom or me!" I gasped.

  Betty's face took on a grim look. "That's right, Julie. Whatever it is, it was aimed at the pair of you. Only you were the bait to force your mother's involvement."

 
 

 
 
 

I sat, my feet hanging over the edge of my bed. I stared hard at my amulet. I remembered the first time I'd ever seen it, dangling from a thin chain around my mother's neck. Dad had been gone for less than a year and Mom and I had planned a picnic. We were seated on a flannel blanket underneath an enormous poplar at Confederation Park. The sounds of robins and magpies filled the air and the warm, early spring breeze carried the scent of lilacs and freshly mown grass.

  She beamed at me. "Raise your magic and you'll feel the tug of energies surrounding all living things, Julie."

  "Everything?"

  She nodded. "We're all bound together by the energy that flows from our hearts. Every breath you draw, every touch of a loved one's hand – we all glow with these energies from within. The trees, the sunlight, the grass underneath the blanket… The entire world hums with life. If you reach out with your spirit, you'll be able to feel it, sweetheart."

  I stretched out a tiny hand that was covered with henna tattoos and spread my chubby fingers wide.

  "Like this?" I asked.

  "That's right," she said, as her fingertips brushed against mine. "Concentrate now. Clear your mind of all your thoughts and you'll feel the tiniest fragments of living energy."

  I shut my eyes tight and pushed all thoughts out of my head. Within seconds I could feel a gentle pulse of energies tingling against my skin; tiny snaps that felt like little jolts of electricity in the warm air.

  "It's working. I can feel it!" I gasped.

  "I can feel it too, sweetheart. Now open your eyes."

  I squeezed the amulet tightly as I fought back the urge to cry, the memory was so vivid that I could still feel the warmth of the sun against my skin, and I wanted more than anything to relive that first lesson in magic with my mother. But I couldn't. I was alone in my room, Mom was in the hospital and I felt completely lost.

  I had to do something – anything – to help her.

  School was out of the question if I was going to get to the bottom of the attack on my mother. I'd have to scour her thirty or so books on spells and incantations because somewhere there had to be lingering fragments of dark magic that I'd missed. Marcus stayed with me all night and as 7.30am rolled around, I told him that I needed some time to sort myself out and that I'd call him after school. He initially kicked up a bit of a fuss, but I smoothed things over by asking him to keep any eye out for anything supernaturally weird that I should know about. Of course, Principal Eggleston would want to discuss why the second floor girls' washroom was destroyed and why my mother was taken from Crescent Ridge Junior high school in an ambulance, so Betty drove Marcus to school and promised to use her own special set of skills to convince the principal that a water surge had blown through the bathroom's plumbing.

  Okay, so having a spirit guardian who can pull off Jedi mind tricks can be handy at times.

  I sat up in my bed and stared at the wall in front of me. That ache that I'd been feeling in the center of my chest was still there. I wasn't hungry. I wasn't anything more than still very numb. I just wanted to hide away from the world but I couldn't. I needed to find out what happened to Mom, so I crawled out of my bed just as my cell phone vibrated. It was Marla.

  DarkChik: OMG, I heard what happened. I'm sooo sry. L

  Jules: Thx

  DarkChik: What was that at school?

  Jules: Not sure. I can't talk okay?

  DarkChik: The place is haunted. No other explanation.

  Jules: Probly is. I won't be at school today.

  DarkChik: I know. Is your Mom… is it bad?

  Jules: Yes. Coma. Docs don't know what to do.

  DarkChik: LLL

  Jules: Thx. I have a question tho.

  DarkChik: What?

  Jules: What happened in the bathroom? Did u see a star carved in wall in that stall?

  DarkChik: Ya. And some stuff like burned grass. I flushed it because it stank.

  Jules: That burned stuff. Was it still warm?