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TWENTY-NINE
“Who would have believed it?” I complained to Ralph as I threw my clothes into my suitcase. “My grandmother is a witch and so is Frank Delmarco—gruff, beer-swilling, football-watching Frank Delmarco!”
Ralph, perched on top of the flat-screen TV to keep from being trampled during my frenzied packing, squeaked.
“And clearly Frank’s hiding something because no one at the college knows he’s a witch. Maybe he’s there to watch poor Nicky succumb to his curse.”
Ralph stood up on his hind legs and squeaked again.
“Yes, I know it’s not certain that he’s the one who placed the curse on the Ballards. It could be the Scudder descendant who sneaked the lacuna in that book, but then what is Frank Delmarco doing at the college incognito? I say it’s too much of a coincidence.”
I started to close my suitcase but Ralph jumped into it—an impressive four-foot leap that made him look like a flying squirrel.
“I wasn’t forgetting you, but you don’t have to ride in a suitcase.” I held open a Century 21 bag that still had the tissue paper from the last minute Christmas shopping I’d done two days ago. “Jump in here for now, then you can sit up in the front seat.”
Ralph looked at the bag dubiously, then he made another impressive leap onto my laptop, which lay open on the desk.
“Hey, no, fella! I told you to stay off that.” I scooped upRalph, who was chittering loudly now, and dropped him in the shopping bag. “Or were you just reminding me not to forget it? Thanks, little guy.”
I slid the laptop into its case and shouldered it along with my purse. I took one look around the room to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. It occurred to me that if Ididforget something the hotel would call Paul because the room was registered under his name, and then he would have to call me…
I checked the back of the bathroom door, found my nightgown hanging there, and stuffed it in the Century 21 bag with Ralph. “I think we’re done here,” I told Ralph, and then closed the door behind me.
I had to wait another twenty minutes for the valet to bring my car around. I tipped everyone handsomely and then promptly got lost in the maze of one-way streets around Ground Zero. It was after four by the time I was headed up the West Side Highway, the sun hanging low above New Jersey on the other side of the river. Another night drive, then.
“That’s okay,” I told Ralph, who had curled up in my scarf on the front passenger seat. “I did okay coming down here.”
I hadn’t counted on the snow. I was too preoccupied by the surprising revelations of the day to listen to the weather and traffic reports on the radio. If I had, I would have stayed on the highway instead of taking the shortcut over the mountain. I was only twenty miles from Fairwick when the snow began. It started out as light flurries, but within minutes it was coming down so heavily I had trouble making out the yellow dividing line. I considered pulling over, but the fields on either side of the road stretched off emptily into the dark shadows of the woods—shadows that seemed to move when I glanced at them out of the corner of my eye. I had the feeling that if I stopped here the snow would cover the car and I’d freeze to death, or worse, that one of those shadows might detach itself from thewoods and come loping across the fields. I was on the edge of the forest that surrounded Fairwick now, the same forest that contained the door to another world. I had bragged that I opened the door—and Anton Volkov had said it would remain open until the last day of the year. That meant that it was still open. Who knew what creatures might have come through the door and even now be prowling through the woods and fields for prey?
So I drove on…crawled on, rather, at fifteen miles per hour, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles were white and leaning forward to make out the yellow dividing line. Even with the defrost running full blast, the windshield kept fogging up. Ralph jumped up on the dash and whisked a space clear with his paws, then remained on the dashboard peering worriedly into the snow and shaking his head so often that he looked like one of those bobblehead dashboard ornaments. I was glad to have him there.
When we drove through Bovine Corners I looked for an open gas station or diner where I could stop, but the white clapboard houses and farms were strangely dark. I wondered why everyone would be asleep so early, but when I stopped at the town’s one traffic light I saw that all the shutters had been closed over all the windows. For the storm, maybe? Or because the residents of Bovine Corners were afraid of the creatures that came through the door at this time of the year? As I drove slowly through the town, I noticed, too, that hung on every door was a round wreath—or what I at first took for wreaths. On closer inspection I realized they were hex signs. I supposed that wasn’t so odd in an agricultural area with lots of Dutch settlers, but although these hex signs superficially resembled those of the Pennsylvania Dutch, there were subtle differences. Instead of birds and tulips these signs were painted with large eyes and gargoyle faces—apotropaic symbols to ward off evil. On the last barn on the town’s edge, just as the road began toclimb toward Fairwick, a huge hex sign had been painted with a grinning gorgon’s face, its menacing eyes staring into the woods between the two towns. What were they afraid of? I wondered as I shifted my car into second gear to climb the long slippery hill. What had they seen come out of these woods?
Well, the residents of Bovine Corners weren’t the only ones with access to magic. There was one spell I remembered from the spellbook—a spell for safe homecoming. It simply involved repeating the word for home in three different languages:Casa, heima, teg. That should be easy enough. Even if I hadshown no talent for witchcraft, as Adelaide had said, and I wastainted with fey blood. Your mother assured me she saw no sign of it, Adelaide had said.
Had my mother been disappointed that I had no power? The thought brought tears to my eyes, blurring the already snow-fogged window—anda memory.
I was five or six, hiding in my mother’s closet because I didn’t want to go to my grandmother’s house. I could hear my parents calling for me, making a game of it like they sometimes did, my father calling “Kay” and my mother calling “Lex,” but then they stopped right in the middle of my name and I heard my father say, “I hate her going there as much as she does. One of these times Adelaide is going to notice.…”
“She won’t notice anything because there’s nothing to notice. I told her she’s shown no sign of having any power—and shewon’tshow any sign of it.”
My parents had argued until I couldn’t stand hearing them argue any more, and I had called out, “Here I am. I’m not lost.”
“I’m not lost,” I said aloud to Ralph. I repeated the words while concentrating on keeping a steady pressure on the gas pedal. If I had to stop here I’d never get the traction to start up again. The trees came close to the shoulder now, tall pines that grew in serried ranks that hemmed in the narrow route. If Iran off the road I’d plow straight into one of them. When I reached the top of the hill I let out a long breath that fogged the window.
“Pshew! Ralph, that was scary. At least it’s all downhill from here.”
Ralph gave me a quick nervous look and pressed his nose against the windshield. I looked ahead and saw what he was worried about. The road curved downward at a steep grade and it was slick with unplowed snow. I took a deep breath and slowly edged the car over the precipice, keeping one foot on the brake. As I picked up speed I realized that if I braked too quickly I’d skid. Although there were still trees on the left side of the road, on the right the mountainside fell away in a sheer drop to the valley. I could see the lights of Fairwick down below, beckoning like a safe harbor. Home, I thought,Casa, heima, teg. Suddenly the rear wheels fishtailed and I went into a skid. For one horrible moment I saw the lights of Fairwick gleaming out of the falling snow. Had my spell backfired? Maybe Adelaide and my mother were right when they said I had no talent for witchcraft. Was it trying to take me back to Fairwick by the most direct route? I heard Ralph excitedly squeaking…and then somehow the car straightened itself at the last minute and we sailed down the last slope onto Main Street.
I was shaking so badly that I had to pull over. I peeled my fingers off the steering wheel, closed my eyes, and said a little prayer of thanks. When I opened my eyes I saw that I was in front of the Fair Grounds café. “What say we treat ourselves to some hot chocolate?” I said to Ralph. But when I got out, I saw that the café was dark. A cheery sign with snowflakes and pinecones announced:CLOSED FOR THE HOLIDAYS! SEE YOU IN THE NEW YEAR!
Looking up the street I noticed that all the shops, at least some of which usually stayed open late for students, were closed. I supposed it made sense since the students were allgone, but I was disappointed at how dreary the town looked. Well, I thought, getting back in the car, Diana will be home at the inn…and Liam would be there. At least he hadn’t said anything about going away for the holidays, but then our last encounter had ended rather abruptly. It was probably going to be awkward the first few times I ran into him…Better if he had gone away for the holidays. But if he hadn’t, I’d just act like nothing had happened.
I started the car and drove to the end of Main Street, peering at all the shops with theirCLOSED FOR THE HOLIDAYS!signs. It looked like the whole town had cleared out for the period between Christmas and New Year’s.
I turned right up the hill that climbed to my house and saw that most of the houses on my street were dark, too. Oddly, though, the woods to my right weren’t completely dark. Lights flickered through the trees as if someone had strung Christmas lights through their branches. I was staring into the woods when an enormous antlered buck bolted right in front of my wheels. I slammed on the brakes and went into my second skid of the night. This time I wasn’t able to come out of it. The car spun completely around, plowed into the woods, and pitched down into a gully. I ended up at a tilt, my headlights tearing a crooked path through the snowy woods. I stared dumbly into it, too rattled to move, watching the snow fall through my high beams. Then I looked for Ralph.
He was on the floor of the backseat, puffed up like a dandelion seed head, a crumpled Post-it Note sticking to his right hind leg, but otherwise he looked okay.
