Chapter 14 #2
“I think the owner needs to reintegrate his shadow. Sounds like it’s the part of himself he’s been rejecting, so he needs to show acceptance by embracing all of himself, even the part he doesn’t like.”
Quiet descended upon the room.
I was first to break the silence. “Joan, you’re a genius.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Margie asked.
“Years of therapy, honey. You don’t spend a wheelbarrow full of cash on giant billboards just to call your ex-husband a cocksucker and not do any self-reflection afterward.”
“This is why you’re so good at understanding the motivations of serial killers,” Catherine said in awe. “All that psychology experience.”
Joan basked in the glow of admiration. It was nice to witness.
“It sounds like you need two spells,” Edith said. “One to capture the shadow, and the other to reintegrate it.”
I thought of Ronald’s dream and the astral cord that snapped me back to my body.
“I think I only need one. If we reverse the original spell, I bet his shadow will snap back to him, no matter where it is. Two birds. One stone.” Undo Stephen’s spell, and wherever the shadow was, it would simply reattach to him.
“Do you know the spell he used to separate from his shadow?” Meemaw asked.
“I know where he keeps it.” In a neat file folder in his drawer. I shot to my feet. “If I’m not back in time for Operation Decoration, start without me.”
From behind the sofa, Edith pushed me back to a seated position. “Absolutely not. You said there’s a killer shadow after you. Use the telephone.”
“But we need to do the reintegration spell.”
“Then you’ll do it here,” Meemaw said. “Edith’s right. I don’t want you to leave this condo. It isn’t safe.”
“Then you’ll know who the owner of the shadow is.”
“We’ll know soon enough anyway, won’t we?” Louise asked. “He won’t get out of this quietly.”
“I don’t feel right about it,” I said, returning to a standing position.
“And I don’t feel right about you handling this on your own,” Edith said. “I’m going to complain to the HOA.”
“Please don’t. Justine doesn’t know anything about this yet. I was waiting until I resolved the situation to tell her.”
“They need to hire someone yesterday,” Bernice said. “This isn’t fair to you.”
“They’re trying. They just haven’t found the right person yet.” And I hadn’t exactly been helpful in that regard. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to do this with an audience. It feels too personal.”
“Then at least let one of us drive over there with you and wait outside until the deed is done,” Margie said. “That way we can bust in with magic of our own if you get yourself in trouble.”
“I’ll go,” Louise said.
Joan’s knees cracked as she stood. “Me too.”
“Fine then,” Meemaw said. “The rest of us will map out the locations for the pinwheels.”
“I’ll need to stop home for my black tracksuit,” Louise said. “I forgot to change.”
I glanced floor level. “You realize you’re all wearing white sneakers, right?”
Margie scoffed. “Well, I wasn’t going to spend money on black shoes just for this.”
“What do you all wear to funerals?”
“We’re witches,” Meemaw said. “Whatever we damn well please.”
While Joan and Louise whispered and laughed in the back seat of my golf cart like giddy teenagers, I called Stephen to let him know I was on the way to Terrapin to see him.
Louise tapped my shoulder. “Should you be using your phone while driving? Isn’t that a rule violation?”
“No one saw me except you, and I don’t think the Pinwheel Princesses are going to report me now, are they?” I glanced over my shoulder to see both witches zip their lips.
There were no available spots, so I parked the cart in the loading zone outside Stephen’s building. “I don’t want to hear a word about this.”
“We need a code word,” Joan said, as I exited the cart.
“How about ‘shadow’?” Louise suggested.
“On the nose, but it works.” I tossed Louise the key. “In case you need to move the cart while I’m gone.”
“We should keep the engine running in case we need to make a quick getaway,” Louise said.
“It’s a shadow. I’m not sure putting the pedal to the metal will make any difference.”
I walked to the third floor, checking my surroundings with each step. No sign of a shadow except my own. A pale Stephen hovered in the hallway outside his condo in anticipation of my arrival.
“Did you find him?” he asked, wringing his hands.
“No, but I have a plan.”
Some of the color returned to his cheeks. “Come in.”
I followed him inside the condo and shut the door, making sure not to lock it in case I needed to make a swift exit. I had to admit, it felt comforting to know Joan and Louise were outside standing sentry. As much as I trusted myself to handle the situation, it was nice to know they cared.
“What’s the plan?” Stephen asked.
“We need to reverse the spell you did and reintegrate you with your shadow.”
His face drained of color again. “Undo my successful spell?”
“No offense, Stephen, but I think we can both agree that your spell was far from a success.”
“What if I don’t want him back? What if I want us to stay separated?”
“That shadow is part of you, whether you like it or not. You’re not separate entities. You are him and he is you.”
“That isn’t true. I’m not a killer.”
“Maybe not in the traditional sense, but it’s your shadow that’s consumed with rage. All your rage.”
His brow creased. “Does this mean I’ll feel mad about things again?”
“I would expect so.”
He looked crushed. “It was such a relief not to be angry all the time. I thought I finally hit that relaxed stage of life, where nothing bothers me.”
“It’s okay to be angry sometimes, Stephen. In fact, it’s normal.” Anger could be a useful emotion when it became fuel for change instead of fire for destruction.
“It wasn’t okay in my family,” Stephen said. “I wasn’t allowed to cry or yell or express any strong feeling, so I learned not to have them anymore.”
My father used to say that anger was a secondary emotion. That if I felt angry, I needed to look deeper and identify the emotions lurking beneath it and address the root cause. If I heeded his advice as a child, I didn’t remember it.
“You still had them, Stephen. You just learned to suppress them instead of process them. You know, Dr. Adam is an easy person to talk to.”
“He’s a healer,” Stephen replied, by way of objection.
“Yes, a healer of the mind as well as the body. If you’re not comfortable with him for whatever reason, I’m sure we can find you someone else.”
“I’ll have to find someone on the mainland willing to visit me in a paranormal prison in the middle of the desert.”
I said nothing. I didn’t see how Stephen could escape some form of punishment. An innocent woman died as the result of his actions. A certain level of justice had to be served, but justice was no longer my domain.
The wizard opened the file folder, resigned to his fate. “We should get started, I suppose.”
“If you find it too difficult, I can do the spell,” I said.
Stephen inhaled deeply. “No, it should be me. I created this mess. I’m the one who should undo it.” He collected the ingredients and placed them neatly on the counter, along with a mixing bowl and a blender.
“A shadow smoothie?” I asked.
“Basically. If I drink the same potion again, it should reunite us.” He sprinkled a teaspoon of cinnamon into the mixture.
“Why cinnamon?” I queried.
“Nothing to do with the spell. I like the taste.” His finger shook as he hit the button to blend the contents.
“You’re doing the right thing, Stephen.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier.” He poured the slush into a tall glass and brought it to his lips. “Here’s mud in your eye.” He paused, frowning. “Do people still say that when they toast?”
“Probably not since 1949.”
“Ah, well. I was never cool.” He gulped down the potion, then calmly rinsed the glass and placed it in the sink.
“How long will it take?” I asked.
“It was fast the first time, so not long, I expect.” He rinsed the blender, then put away the gathered ingredients. He was tidy, I’d give him that.
Stephen emerged from the pantry, staring at his hands. “I think it’s back.”
“Step to the left.” I directed my phone flashlight at the wall behind him. “Raise your right hand.”
The wizard raised his hand. And there it was.
Stephen turned to observe the wall. “It’s attached?”
“Consider yourself integrated.”
Tears slid down his cheeks. “We’re one and the same.”
“You are.”
Stephen’s cries intensified to choking sobs. “I killed Darlene. It was me. I’m so sorry.” His back slid down the wall, and he curled into the fetal position on the floor, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
The world was lucky I didn’t set my shadow loose.
I had enough unprocessed rage to fuel a nuclear power plant.
I should probably take my own advice and speak to Dr. Adam about that, except that would require me to reveal more about myself than I was willing or able to do.
In a way, I wasn’t much different from Stephen.
I’d hidden parts of myself that I refused to acknowledge.
I claimed it was for the safety of myself and those around me, but maybe that was the lie I told myself in order to justify my choices.
Stephen’s tears continued to flow, unabated. “I feel so alone,” he whispered.
“You’re not alone, Stephen.” I sat on the floor beside him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m right here.”