Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
THEO
Ilet go of Kennedy’s hand.
Touching her brought about the strangest physical reaction, similar to a lack of blood flow when a limb falls asleep, so I flex my fingers and clench my fist to rid myself of the tingling sensation. Yet the minute I do, I miss her warmth.
My first impression of her is that she’s fearless.
Based on the way the others spoke about her situation, I was picturing a fragile little girl, terrified and alone.
But Kennedy is the exact opposite of that.
Standing in front of a room full of people, feet planted firmly in the center of the chalk-drawn pentagram, is a confident and determined young woman.
Her brilliant red hair drapes over her sloping shoulders and reaches the bottom of her shoulder blades.
She stands with one leg bent, hip popped, waiting for someone else to make a move.
Her sheer self-possession elicits that same warmth within me I felt from her touch.
It spreads like ink spilled on a page, its current reaching to stain every part of my body.
I tear my eyes away and focus on the others. Everyone is gasping and pointing at her like she’s the headlining freak show at the circus. A twinge of guilt passes over me, but I shove it aside and listen to the conversations being had amongst their Ooos and Ahhhs.
Simone is grinning from ear to ear with a gleam of pride in her eyes.
Calliope taps her lightly on the shoulder as a way of congrats, and though the gesture was clearly half-hearted, Simone doesn’t notice.
She’s too caught up in having accomplished her task.
But she isn’t alone in her celebration for long, because the other women rush over to hug her enthusiastically.
The sheriff and the older redheaded woman look a little disappointed, like the performance didn’t meet their expectations. What did they expect? Audrey Hepburn or the Beatles to appear from the Great Beyond?
Aidan and the other two men who kept to the outskirts of the spectacle, finally join the witches to get a closer look.
Meanwhile, Kennedy has finally relaxed her stance.
Her shoulders sag as she peers down at her own hands.
Slowly, she drops into a squatting position and places her palms flat on the floorboards. A shaky laugh escapes her parted lips.
I might be wrong, but I’m almost certain I’m witnessing a ghost being able to feel her own body again, no longer unmoored. The happiness on her face feels foreign to me. I’ve spent so long out of my physical body that I’ve forgotten what having one feels like, but I have no wish to remember.
For years, I hovered in the periphery of the house’s boundaries, undisturbed.
I was both here and not, a spiritual being tethered to the place I was born, but with little connection to it.
Much of that time was spent in, what I can only describe as, a coma.
I chose to remain in such a state, because it was a place where no memories could reach me.
No reminders of my previous life for me to dwell over. Just an empty bliss.
Occasionally, there would be sounds: the creaks and groans from the natural settling of the house, or the fierce pounding against the windows during a winter storm.
In those moments, the noise would remind me of what I was.
But the enticing stasis would eventually caress my cheek again, and I would slip back into nothing.
It wasn’t until something much more raucous disturbed my peace that I was fully awoken from my ghostly slumber.
My memories flicker back to a family of four moving into the house.
First, there were the crashes of walls coming down, the sound of a machine cutting through floorboards, and the murmurings of men—something I had not heard in over a decade.
But it was the sound of her voice that triggered my eyes to finally open and truly see.
Moira Baker.
I shake my head and dislodge the memory from the front of my mind, only to realize why Calliope looks so familiar. She resembles her grandmother almost identically. I want to ask her so many questions, but the murmurs of wonder from everyone around me are too much.
I retreat to the front of the house, rubbing my hands together to soothe the tension building inside me.
After a while, the majority of the spectators decide they’re bored and it’s time to go.
Even Aidan suggests it’s best to leave the witches to their work, and I watch as he and Joanna quietly close the front door behind them, a murmured “goodbye” following them out.
I’m left with Kennedy and the two witches. Realizing something, the novice looks at me with a sheepish grin. “It’s Theodore, right?”
I press my lips into a fine line and nod.
“Thank you for letting us use your house.” Her eyes dart across the cobwebs in the rafters with bright optimism. “Clearly you were right about the magical properties here, Calliope.”
The more experienced witch waves a hand in dismissal and shrugs, rolling her eyes smugly.
Having them here without Aidan is uncomfortable.
Amidst the urgency of the situation, Aidan had only briefly introduced them after politely asking permission to use the house.
I respect Aidan, but clearly no one from this generation has any clue about the history between my family and the witches of Shadow Hills.
If they did, they would not be alone with me right now.
Simone glances at me nervously when I don’t respond to her, but Calliope’s focus is solely on Kennedy who has now chosen to sit cross-legged on the floor.
“You can leave the circle, you know.”
My voice causes both witches to jump, but Kennedy smirks.
“Of course!” Calliope insists, playfully tapping herself on the head as if she simply forgot. “You’re not stuck.” She pokes and slides her finger across the surface of her telephone. “Ah yes. And if you ever get lost again, you’ll automatically get pulled here.”
“Cool,” Simone gushes. “So, it’s like respawning in the last saved spot of a video game.”
Calliope lifts a brow. “Sure.”
“So, this is where I’m supposed to stay?” Kennedy questions nervously.
Six pairs of eyes land on me.
“Is that a problem?” Calliope asks shortly.
But Simone jumps in with, “If that’s alright with you!”
Kennedy’s eyes remain on me. She’s waiting for me to say something with that same confident aura as before.
Am I really agreeing to open up my home to another ghost? I had no problem providing her with a safe place to be summoned, but I’ve enjoyed my solitude for over a hundred years, and now I must give it up just because this spirit couldn’t figure out how to tether herself properly?
Then I see her face start to fall.
Without realizing it, I find myself relenting. I drop my chin and close my eyes, giving Kennedy a single nod.
She smiles and tells the others, “He’s fine with it.”