Chapter 5
Remodel temporarily forgotten, I find myself spending hours poring through the book. It has been three days since it arrived, and I’ve hardly thought of anything else since. There’s just so much!
There are spells to bring abundance and prosperity. Spells to attract friendship, love, happiness, and spiritual growth, for health and well-being.
There are lists of herbs and gemstones - what they’re used for and what they shouldn’t be. There’s generation upon generation of knowledge, and I can hardly take it all in.
I’ve not tried doing any spells yet, though I’ve been tempted several times just to see if they would work.
There have been a couple of other incidents of my magic making an appearance: reaching for a light switch and having the switch flip without my fingers ever touching it, frowning at my bowl of soup that has gotten cold while I was distracted reading, and having it begin to steam as warmth spreads through it.
It has been little things, but huge revelations at the same time.
I want to try a spell, but I’m very apprehensive. I’m sort of afraid I’ll screw something up and open some portal to hell, but I know my curiosity is eventually going to get the better of me.
I’m sitting on my back patio enjoying my morning coffee and making mental notes about landscaping my yard, the plants and trees I want removed, flowers I want to add and replace, when I finally decide I should try my hand at a spell.
I’ve taken to carrying the Book of Shadows with me as I go about my day, and it is lying on the glass-top table next to my coffee mug.
I steel myself for what I’m thinking of trying and then pick up the book and open it to the page I have marked.
It is a spell for abundance. It is fall, and we’ve just entered a full moon cycle - something highly recommended to make the spell work properly and to its full potential.
Though it is fall, I live in a warm climate, and I’m ready to see colorful blooms all over my property.
I need color in my life, as I lived in the dark for so long during my marriage.
A spell to bring a plethora of blooming trees, bushes, and flowers seems like a good place to start. It doesn’t appear to be a complicated spell, but it will take at least twenty-four hours to complete.
I run into the house to grab a bowl to gather in and am reaching for the knob on my glass-fronted cabinet when I remember a copper bowl I found in the attic the day before.
It was beautiful and ornate, and after I gave it a thorough cleaning, I set it on a table in my foyer to display it.
Now, it seems the perfect receptacle for holding my spell ingredients.
I grab it and hurry back outside before I change my mind. I go from tree to bush to flower and carefully cultivate buds and petals, making a nice layer in the bottom of the bowl. The colors all look so pretty against the copper, and I find myself hoping that I can truly make this spell work.
I’m to leave the bowl outside all night to charge the buds and petals with the power of the full moon.
I begin to look around for the perfect spot to set it when it dawns on me that the widow’s walk is it.
There are no trees to block the moonlight, so my ingredients should get the full arc of the moon as it passes through the night.
I haven’t been up to the widow’s walk yet, and when I open the door and step out, the view takes my breath away.
I’m not certain why it has taken me so long to climb up here.
The previous owners left a wrought iron table and chairs.
They’re in desperate need of sandblasting and painting, so I add that item to my ever-growing list of repairs.
But for now, the table suits my purposes, and I place the copper bowl in the middle to await the glow of the moon.
It’s such a gorgeous morning, and I decide to sit and enjoy the view for a moment.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m a witch, that I have powers.
It’s a bit overwhelming but quite fascinating at the same time.
It makes me curious about my birth family.
So much so that I wish I had some way to contact them, to find out more about my heritage.
I lean back in the chair, close my eyes, and let the sun warm me, head to toe.
A light breeze blows and sends a slight shiver down my skin.
But I realize instantly that it isn’t the breeze that has given me the shiver; it’s the whisper on the wind repeating in my ear that has given me those goosebumps.
“Call for us. We will come. Call for us. We will come.”
My eyes pop open in surprise. I don’t know who is speaking to me or why, and I can’t fathom why I’m not surprised in the least that it is happening. Have I accepted my newfound heritage so quickly and effortlessly that I’m no longer questioning when strange things happen?
I hear the whispers again, overlapping and running together in my mind, pleading with me to listen. Suddenly, I remember there is a passage in the book about seances. A seance? My heart begins to race as I consider the possibilities.
If I go through with it, who will I be speaking with?
My ancestors? Good spirits? Bad? I don’t know.
And while the possibility of speaking with a family member to find out more about my heritage is highly appealing, it’s the thought that I could be opening a door to evil that makes me pause and not rush into anything.
As in all things I’ve discovered throughout my life, research is necessary before making decisions.
And I’m a hell of a researcher.
That night, I dream of mysterious mouths and hands bringing me pleasure once again. I wake to find myself out of bed, out of the house.
I wake in the garden under the light of the full moon. Naked. Confused. Longing once again for things I’ve never experienced and will likely never have.