The Magick of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root) (18 page)

“Now, darlings,” Mother said, as we took her arms and entered the house. “Do be lambs and get me my fancy hat. I’m having dinner with the Duchess of Bedford.”

A strange agitation swept through Sister House that afternoon.
 

Merry fought with Frank on the phone about custody rights, Ruth Anne complained that it was too noisy to write, and Paul wandered around, nodding at the right moments and saying the right things, but seemed so distracted by his phone I thought Eve was going to snatch it from him and flush it down the toilet.
 

Even June Bug had a bad day, claiming she’d forgotten to cap the lids on the jars that housed her collection of critters. She dashed through the house yelling, “Here, buggy buggy!” with a jar in one hand and a piece of fruit in the other, as the rest of us scratched our arms on the sofa watching
It’s a Wonderful Life
.

Eve finally came up with an excuse to get us out of there.
 

“I’m taking Maggie to a baby sign language class in Linsburg,” she announced in her usual fabulous intonation.

Everyone must have thought it sounded as abysmal as I did because no one asked to come along.

“Is it my imagination or is Mother acting particularly weird?” I asked her, as we sped towards Linsburg in Paul’s black Explorer.
 

“Nope. She’s really off her rocker now,” my sister replied, not bothering to slow down for the squirrel that darted across the road.

 
I thought about Mother’s rules of karma and wondered what fate Eve would have suffered had she had hit the animal.

“Sometimes when I’m with her, she is lucid and present,” I said, remembering some of the more pleasurable talks I’d had with Mother in the last few weeks. I’d grown closer to her in those moments, and had even begun to understand what she might be like as a person, sans the Sasha Shantay mask. “…And then she flips like a light switch, talking to people who aren't even there.”

“At least she remembers your name. She calls me Natalie and asks me to turn down her bed or
fetch
her some tea.”

“Do you do it?”
 

She sighed. “Yes.”

I watched the scenery whiz by the open window. Eve drove so fast I could hardly read the exit signs.

 
“She talks to Larinda a lot,” I said. “It’s unsettling.”

The sun was beginning to set, casting waves of pink and orange swirls into the sky. Eve slowed as we rolled into the parking lot of a bar right outside of Linsburg. The lot was full of cars and the sounds of classic rock reverberated from the walls.

“She doesn’t just talk to Larinda,” I continued, trying to hammer in my point as Eve turned off the ignition. “She talks someone named Robbie, too. It’s like when June Bug has tea parties with her stuffed animals, but there’s no tea and there’s no stuffed animals.”

Eve’s nostrils flared as she faced me. “Maggie, there’s something you should know.”
 

Eve never led off with the words
there’s something you should know.
Those were words for people who took things seriously.
 

I clutched the door handle, bracing myself for the news.
 

“Mom’s still sick, Mags. Very, very sick.” A tear slid down her cheek. She swallowed. I watched the lump in her throat slide down. “We didn’t want to tell you because…” Her eyes fell to my belly. “But the doctors don’t give her long. Six months if we are lucky. Probably less.”

Eve buried her face in her hands, weeping.
 

I shook my head in disbelief. “We cured her, Evie. We cured her, remember? She’s okay, now. I know it.”

I spoke to reassure myself as much as I did her. Everything we’d done: coming home, reopening Mother’s store, cutting Leah’s hair, and embracing Mother in our circle at the hospital. We’d saved her; we’d broken the curse.

“Maggie,” she sobbed. “Mom has dementia and she’s in the final stages. It was more than a curse. The dementia weakened her, making her susceptible to it, but…”

“But? But!?” I pulled at the door handle, trying to get out, but it wouldn’t open. “Shut up!”

“…Merry’s trying to buy her more time, but she doesn’t know how much longer she can help her.”

“Stop it, Eve!”
 

“…Merry thinks Mom’s trying to hold on long enough to train us …

“Is Merry a motherfucking doctor, all of a sudden?”

 
Why wouldn't the door handle budge? I yanked at it, my face hot and beaded with sweat. Eve didn’t know what she was talking about. Merry didn’t either. Even the doctors had their heads up their asses. Mother was going to be okay. That’s what all of this was about. This whole Goddamned thing.

“Maggie please…” Eve looked at me, her eyes pleading. She put a hand on my shoulder and I felt her energy seep into me. It was surprisingly warm. “They made me promise not to tell you because…”

“Because I’m a pregnant basket case. I get it.” The door finally broke free and swung open.
 

Six months. They were giving Mother six months. Or less. The sounds from inside the bar were happy, jovial. How could anyone be happy when the world was falling apart?

Eve spoke again. I could see her mouth moving, but I only heard the beating of my own heart. She put both arms around my neck, pulling me to her. Her tears washed over my face, but I didn’t join her in crying. Mother hadn't been taken yet.
 

“We are going to beat it. Again.” My heart thumped with new resolve. “With the money we make, we can afford better doctors. These Dark Root quacks don’t know what they are talking about. Besides, we are witches, Eve. There has to be a spell, or potion, or amulet, or something…”

“Maggie,” Eve said. “Witchcraft doesn’t solve everything.”

Ten

THE KIDS AREN’T ALRIGHT

“Well, that was a complete waste of time.” Eve stormed out of the bar, almost hitting me in the face with the door as she left.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, catching up to her.
 

We climbed into the Explorer and slammed our doors simultaneously. Eve turned over the ignition but didn’t pull out of the lot.

“What gets me,” she said, turning on the windshield wipers just as it started to rain. “…Is that you were able to rig the game against
me
that night at The Watering Hole, and yet here, you couldn't drop a pool ball into a sinkhole.”

“I did the best I could,” I said, refusing to look at her. “I never said I was a good player.”

She snorted. “That’s an understatement. June Bug would have made a better partner than you.”

“Well, maybe next time, you’ll take her.”

“Trust me. If she were two feet taller and had an ID, I would.”

“I suggest you drive us home,” I said, cracking the window to release some of the hot air that had accumulated inside. “It’s not like we are out anything, just a few hours.”

“Hours I’ll never get back,” she glowered, clenching the wheel at 11 and 1 o’clock.

“What would you be doing right now, anyway? Organizing your closet? Or combing through Paul’s texts to make sure he’s not talking to a woman?”

“I already organized my closet,” she said, punching the gas.
 

“Goodbye, ladies,” one of the guys we’d been playing called to us with a grin and a wave.
 

I flipped him off.

“Oh, great,” Eve said, “for all we know he might be crazy. He could get in his car, chase us down, and rape us. Or worse.” We squealed out of the lot, kicking up enough mud to paint the back window brown.
 

“What’s worse than rape?” I asked, rolling up my window and locking the door.
 

“Maggie, I lived in the
city
,” she said, emphasizing the word as if I had spent my entire existence in the hollers.

“So?”

Her chin trembled and her face paled. “There are lots of bad things that can happen to you. Take it from me.”
 

I stared at her, wondering what she meant. But she quickly drew a smile back onto her face. “We just need to get better,” she said, her words Southern-sweet.
 

“I think you need Prozac,” I said.

“Have you been practicing like you were supposed to?” Eve flipped her hair back, her eyes focused on the road.
 

“Of course, I’ve been practicing. You were there.”
 

We’d been up in the attic apartment over Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe every morning before the store opened, working on our plan to get rich playing pool. Eve placed tennis balls and balloons strategically around the room and ordered me to perform “tricks.”
 

“Put that one under the chair,” she’d say, directing my attention to a blue balloon. “Roll that ball off the shelf…”

It was hard work, and I failed more often than I succeeded, but every once in a while a ball rolled or a balloon bounced and Eve and I would stand up, whoop around the room, and high five. I wasn’t sure what made the difference, but I seemed to do better when I was calm and centered.

“I think I was too upset today,” I said. “Maybe you shouldn't deliver bad news like that before we play a game.”
 

Eve pressed her still-glossed lips together. “I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m not good at keeping most secrets.”

I blinked rapidly at the word “most” as I realized there was a well of information inside her I didn’t have access to.
 

“I’m glad you told me,” I said. “I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m a delicate flower.”

“More like a weed.” She tossed me a smile as she turned onto a side road, a shortcut of hers. We fell into a deep thatch of woods where the rain never made it to the ground. The thick canopy of leaves collected water, funneling it down to the branches below, creating a series of intricate and beautiful waterfalls. Our own little rain forest.
 

I patted my purse, glad that we had only played a practice game. I couldn’t risk losing even one dollar. I had somehow missed all of my shots, even the easier ones, and when Eve hit the eight ball just shy of the corner pocket, I couldn’t nudge it the half-inch needed to sink it and win the game. My powers were on the fritz.
 

“Mother says our magic is tied to Dark root,” I said. “Maybe we need to play in town.”