Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
SALEM, PRESENT DAY
Morana felt like a fugitive scurrying past Mrs Danby’s door up the stairs to her second-floor apartment.
She had no idea what she was doing, all she knew was she wanted to have one day without the awful woman knocking on her door and threatening her with more bullshit accusations.
That thought put a small smile on her lips.
The air inside her apartment felt even heavier than before.
Maybe she needed to burn the book, sage her space and open all the windows, be done with this madness.
There it was, the familiar knocking on her door that she knew was Mrs Danby again. She wasn’t going to open it this time and listen to her ranting at her for no good reason. Instead, she ignored her and went to her kitchen counter with her bag of ingredients.
She should have bought one of the small cast-iron cauldrons that were for sale in the shop, but it wouldn’t matter, she could use a saucepan.
She placed the book of spells next to her various herbs and black candles.
Next, she picked up the book and it felt as if it was thrumming under her fingertips.
If Morana didn’t know any better, she would say it knew what she was about to do and was charged with so much unseen energy it would be hard to contain once she released it.
Morana didn’t know this though and placed it on the counter, picked up the pen and chewed on the end of it while thinking about how to finish the spell.
Feeling a little bad for adding her handwriting to the beautiful book, she began to compose the last couple of lines:
Black candle, red cotton, yarrow, rowan
Light the candle, burn the herbs in the flame
Write the name of thy neighbour on paper and tie with cotton
Hold it in the flame until it burns and speak these words.
‘What is mine can never be thine
I banish thee for all eternity
Into the night, be gone from my sight.’
She stared at what she’d written. Not having to think about it, the words had flowed from the pen onto the soft vellum pages, as if the book itself was writing them.
Tearing a strip off Red’s Sandwich Shop menu, which she had tacked onto the refrigerator, she scribbled Mrs Danby on the corner, folded it and tied the red string around it.
Lighting the candle, she took a pinch of the yarrow and rowan then sprinkled them into the flame, which shot up so high she jumped back, her heart racing, hoping she wasn’t about to banish her awful neighbour by burning the apartment block down and making them all homeless.
When the flame calmed a little, she held the paper in it, watching the grey wisps of smoke as the corners curled and then caught alight.
Dropping it into the saucepan before it burned the tips of her fingers, she repeated the words and watched as the paper turned to ash.
There were no fireworks, no big boom of anything, but the air inside of her apartment was now fizzing with unseen energy that Morana could feel all around her.
She glanced at the book and there were little sparks of red and purple snapping from it as if someone had run a stream of electricity through the pages.
She reached out to touch the sparks that looked like tiny fireflies and felt the energy absorb through her fingertips gathering speed and force.
Then she was thrown backwards with a huge jolt as if she’d been electrocuted.
Morana landed in a heap on the floor with a loud, ‘Ouch.’
Her phone began to ring, and she knew that would be Kim wondering where she was. She didn’t think she had the energy to speak to her, she felt so weird.
Pushing herself onto her hands and knees she crawled towards the arm of the chair it was balanced on. ‘Hey, sorry, Kim I feel sick.’
‘I was worried, you weren’t here to open up.’
‘I know, I’m really sorry. I don’t think I can make it. I got there and felt so ill I had to come home.’ She was breathless, her voice sounded raspy which gave her some credence.
‘It’s okay, take it easy but if you’re not okay for tomorrow can you let me know later?’
‘Of course.’
Kim ended the call, and Morana felt terrible, not just physically but emotionally as well. Her body felt different.
A loud bang and lots of screaming came from the street outside, and she rushed over to the window to see what was happening.
A delivery truck was in the middle of the road with a crowd of people gathering around it.
She could see someone was on the floor and her stomach cramped hard as she fought to stop the sickness rising when she recognised the bent leg with the bright red sneaker on the end of it.
The only person she knew who wore those old school red Adidas sneakers picked up at Goodwill was Mrs Danby.
Morana ran downstairs, leaving her apartment door open, and out into the street.
Sirens in the distance filled the air which was hushed as the crowd around the person partially under the wheels of the truck watched in horror.
Morana pushed her way through them and wished that she hadn’t.
Mrs Danby’s body was broken and lying in a position that told her she was seriously injured without even looking at the blood seeping from her partially crushed head.
Mrs Danby’s eyelids were flittering as if she was in and out of consciousness, blood was pooling all around her like some kind of terrible halo.
Morana felt her knees tremble then give way and she slumped onto the tarmac.
She felt a gentle hand take hold of her elbow, helping her to her feet. It was the guy from Enchanted, who had served her not thirty minutes ago.
‘Hey, come on. I’m sorry, do you know her?’
Morana’s tongue was so dry it was sticking to the roof of her mouth, making it difficult to speak, so she nodded.
‘Well, you don’t need to be watching this. Let’s go into the shop and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
She didn’t argue. She took one final glance at her troublesome neighbour and knew that it was all her fault. She had cast the spell, and it had worked within minutes. Mrs Danby, if she survived this, would never covet her apartment ever again.
* * *
She blurted, ‘It’s my fault.’
‘I’m Ethan, we haven’t been formally introduced, but I can assure you that it most certainly isn’t your fault. Were you driving that truck?’
She shook her head.
‘See, not your fault. Take a seat out the back where it’s quiet and I’ll make us a drink. I’m not sure I was ready for that at this time in the morning.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’m not sure that the woman didn’t totally deserve it too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s the meanest old busybody I’ve ever come across. She had been in here ranting once more about us selling Satan’s tools and doing the devil’s work. Honestly, she would have been one of the main accusers back in 1692, if she had been around then.’
Morana nodded. ‘She wasn’t a nice woman, but what a terrible thing to happen to her.’
He didn’t answer and busied himself boiling the water to make their tea. He passed her a mug of plain old English Breakfast Tea, which surprised her.
‘I thought you’d make some herbal tea.’
‘Nope, the best thing for shock according to my gran who was English is good old builders’ tea. She swore by it. Do you need sugar?’
She shook her head. The sirens outside stopped and she felt bad for the driver; he was going to be in a real mess. Eventually a cop came inside to talk to them.
‘Did you see what happened?’
Ethan nodded. ‘I did. She ran into the street right in front of him.’
‘Yeah, that’s what the other witnesses said. Where had she been and do you know why she was running?’
‘She had been in here for her daily screaming session, like clockwork every other day at 11.15.’
‘What was she screaming about?’
‘She hates just about everyone, and she thinks this store has a direct link to Satan out the back, who we call up every day to ruin her life.’
‘Was she mentally unstable?’
Morana couldn’t help it, her eyes met Ethan’s and they both nodded in unison.
‘She is my neighbour. She had been to my apartment first for my daily threats that she was going to get me evicted.’
The cop looked as if he’d been doing the job forever. He sighed. ‘Jeez, some people huh. Sounds like she isn’t a nice lady, can’t see anyone being sad about her accident. The mess she’s in she’ll be lucky to survive.’
‘She has a daughter, I think she will be,’ whispered Morana.
He shrugged. ‘If she gave her neighbours grief for no good reason, imagine the hell she puts her kid through. Some people have a nerve. Can you show me her apartment? I need to look for some ID.’
Morana stood up. ‘Yes, thanks for the tea, Ethan.’
He winked at her. ‘Anytime.’
The cop told her he was called Frankie as he followed her across the now empty street that had been cordoned off and the crowds dispersed by another two cops who were guarding the scene. Morana let him into the entryway and pointed at Mrs Danby’s front door.
It was ajar.
‘Thanks, are you okay? Which one is yours?’
She pointed upstairs. ‘The one directly above hers and, yes, I think so. Thank you.’
She left him to it, her hands trembling as she gripped onto the hand rail to steady herself.
She had to get rid of the spell stuff and the book.
If the cop found it, she’d be arrested and taken away in cuffs before she could say abracadabra.
What had she been thinking? She hadn’t just banished Mrs Danby, she had hurt her badly, so much so that if she ever recovered, Morana didn’t think she’d be able to live on her own without someone to care for her.
The book of spells was far more dangerous that she had realised. She wished she had someone she could confide in, someone who would know what to do next.