Chapter Thirteen

Each Notch has a Knife

Salinger

The first step to getting each of the cousin's lives straightened out was to talk to them about their futures. I interviewed each of them.

“Pearl, what do you plan to do after graduation?”

She looked at me like I was a freak. “Well, if there turns out to be a place open in our generation's coven, I'd like to join it. I don't think that's very likely. It will be Intarsia, Clementine, and Fair Isle. I'll be left out because I'm the youngest.”

I nodded. “What about a career?”

“I'm going to work in my mother's shop.”

I had heard about it. It was a mystic boutique called Cold as Stone that sold semi-precious stones, tarot cards, and tiki masks.

“Is that what you want to do?”

She scoffed. “No one is pressuring me. Until I chose my color, they thought I was too childish to help there. My mother lets me work there two nights a week now.”

“Is the money good?”

“She doesn't pay me.”

“Will you get paid after graduation?”

“Probably not.”

I looked around the room because looking at her was a trifle painful. “Are you okay with that?”

“Why wouldn't I be? It's a family tradition. Except that it would be cool if I could figure out a way to get more people to come in. It's practically a graveyard right now. That’s why I wouldn’t be paid.”

I said goodbye to her and scribbled a note in my book about touring the shop to see where I could help.

I didn't ask her about Antony. It was obvious she wanted to be with him forever and ever and ever. I didn't need to make her say it.

⚘⚘⚘

Intarsia was next. She was a sight to behold since she had continued to wear red lipstick.

“What are you going to do in the fall?” I asked, taking her hand and spinning her like a dancer. “Do you have plans?”

She steadied herself against me and rolled her eyes. “Why do you have to look like Colin Ferrell and talk like my mother?” She pushed me away.

I chuckled. I did not look like Colin Ferrell. Instead of correcting her, I said, “Your mother sounds awesome. What does she think you should do?”

“She thinks I should go to work in her yarn shop.”

I rubbed my chin doubtfully. “Would you get paid?”

“Of course, I'd get paid. I get paid now. I have done their books since I first started taking accounting. They're taking mild advantage of me, and that's fine... since I don't have any other plans.”

“Well, we need to get you some other plans. I'm going to that college,” I struggled for the name, “Grant MacEwan tomorrow to look at what's available.”

She groaned. “It's too late. If you wanted to apply there, you should have done so months ago, or didn't you know?”

“Don't be such a defeatist. Just because we can't start something in September doesn't mean we can't make arrangements for later. We have to make plans.”

“And you're planning to go to Grant MacEwan in January?”

“I'll go if you'll go.”

She looked at me like the idea was unheard of. “You'd go to college with me?”

“Yes.”

“You'll be my little bus buddy and go take classes every day there?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that when you have already made up your mind to have Veda and spirit her away to the north?”

At first, I didn't know how to answer her. We stared at each other with open mouths. Finally, I said, “Who's getting married, Intarsia—? I'm two years older than you, but I still haven't got a career. Just like you, I've been spending my time doing whatever my father asks me to do at his shop. Let's just start by going there tomorrow and seeing how we like it.”

She nodded.

I felt like a creep because her eyes shone with a flame of hope that I’d changed my mind. I hadn’t, but she deserved to do something meaningful with her life. Like the jerkwad I was, I smiled at her and let her believe whatever she liked. Then I wrote the time we were going to meet in my book and went on my way.

⚘⚘⚘

Fair Isle was perched in the window seat when I came back from Intarsia's. I had been planning to take her to the college with us, but the truth was that I didn’t even want to talk to her.

I read the book she stole all the way to the end after she left my room the night before. I had been avoiding it the same way I’d been avoiding her. It was terrible. No small wonder Veda dropped it.

We had been all over each other. Her hands in my hair, her tongue between my teeth, the buttons on my shirt torn free, and with each heightened detail of intimacy between us I thought I’d scream. I did scream a bit, swearing and cursing as I did so. Not only did it show that I was an inexperienced writer, but it also showed that I was an inexperienced lover. Reading it was like listening to an ancient fortune teller give you a play-by-play of the first time you got anywhere with a date, which wasn’t exactly true. I wasn’t completely inexperienced. I just hadn’t liked any of the girls I’d dated enough to get swept away the way I was when I thought about being with Veda. I wanted her in my arms badly, but because of the girl swap, that was how I kissed Fair Isle.

The book only ended because I had put a timepiece within it. The ball had to end at midnight, so when the clock struck, Aunt Hazel interrupted us in the library. That was the end of the book.

When I’d had enough of what I’d read, I took it to the firepit in the backyard and disposed of it in the only I knew would ensure it would never be read by another person. With the licking flames, I felt better, like Fair Isle had never slipped her hands up my shirt and enjoyed what she’d felt.

After I burned it, I felt hoodwinked and a little like exacting revenge on Fair Isle for her thievery. Looking at her by the window, she didn’t look like the same girl who had snuck into my room. She was wearing a black shirt that had been worn so many times, it had turned gray. Her hair was spiked and she wore dark circles around her eyes, but they only made her look younger. She was the youngest warrior in a line of soldiers—afraid. Before she read it, she didn’t know what was in the book and once inside, she couldn’t leave when she’d tried. Now she had the aftermath to deal with just as much as I did.

What happened between the two of us when she read my book was irreparable because the version of me that existed in the book had responded to her very favorably. The resulting uproar was exactly what I wished would happen in the book, but with Veda. Except I was wrong. Veda never would have responded the way Fair Isle did.

I swallowed my discomfort and approached her. “What are you doing in the fall?” I asked.

She reached out and brushed her fingertips against the tail of my shirt. Meeting my eyes and my visible reproach, she dropped her hand. In the daylight, she couldn’t win no matter what she did. Clearing her mouth, she said, “I'm moving to British Columbia in September to study. I'm going to be a herbalist. Maybe I'll be back in May next year. Maybe not.”

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I was surprised she had that much direction. “Really? Was that a recent decision?”

“Yeah,” she said, clicking her tongue. She opened her mouth to say one thing, closed it, and said something else, “I need to get away from Veda. The way I feel about her is ruining my life. Do you think you could marry her and haul her up to the Yukon before I come back next year?”

“Um, I don't think I could.”

Her eyes grew to the size of moons. “Does that mean you gave up on her?”

I averted my gaze. “Why are you in such a hurry to have all that settled? Right now, she's not really dating me. She fooled me into thinking she was and I do feel a little foolish. I've been going about this the wrong way. A lot of things have to happen before the end can come.”

Fair Isle stared at me. “Was that English you just used? It sounded like a different language to me. The one called B.S. A lot of things that have to happen? Like what?”

I couldn't tell Fair Isle my plan to help Veda settle her cousins. After all, Fair Isle going to college in B.C. might be enough to set her on the track Veda hoped for her.

I scratched my chin and didn't answer her directly. “I think your plan to be a herbalist is wonderful. You must message me, after you've gone, and tell me about what you're learning.”

She lowered her eyes painfully. “I'm not going to message you. I've already wasted enough of my time on you.” Her voice was scathing as she stood up and brushed past me.

I had to do something about her. I got out my book, jotting down only her name and a question mark.

⚘⚘⚘

The last girl I spoke to was Clementine. When I found her, she was on the couch with a can of pop in one hand and a tube of uncooked cookie dough in the other. Personally, I didn't see how the combination could have been that appealing, but she went on eating it after I came in.

“I want to ask you a question,” I asked.

“I've noticed you like to interview people. Ask away.”

“Does it bother you that I pump you for information?”

“Not at all. I like it when people ask my opinion.”

I moaned under my breath. “You may not like this.”

“Why?”

“It's about you.”

She smiled wickedly. “All the better.”

I launched right in. “Have you ever thought about what you might like to do as a career?”

She frowned. “No. I'm not like that.”

“How come?”

She put her cookie dough down on the coffee table and took a second to wash out her mouth.

“I'm delayed,” she finally said. “No one wants to talk about it or admit it, but I just don't have the impulses of other adults. I work a job now. It's not fancy and it doesn't pay well, but I have no ambition. I just don't care.” She took another sip from her pop can.

“Isn't there anything out there that interests you?”

She groaned. “I have a problem.” Like a mopey child, she fell off the couch and onto the floor.

“A problem?”

“Yeah,” she muttered from behind the veil of her white hair that had fallen across her face.

“Can I help you with it?”

She brushed her hair behind her ear at the wrong angle, but at least I could see her face. Licking her lips she started with a diplomatic, “Have you read many of our family's spell books?”

“I have read some, but probably not as many as you have.”

“Then you saw me in the cupboard?”

I nodded.

“And you don't hate me?”

“Why would I hate you?” I coughed.

“It's just that everyone seems to think the books in the hidden library are there as a status symbol. They're considered too dangerous to be read. It's obvious why the gift to make them has left our family when no one takes the time to read them.”

“But you like to read them?”

“Yes.”

I scoffed. “Why would I hate you for reading the books when I'm one of the writers? We want our books to be read.”

“Of course. That's why I thought I might be able to talk to you about my problem. I like reading the spell books too much.”

“How much?”

“Enough that I've been trying to schedule my work so I can work in the evenings instead of the days. June locks up the school at five for the summer months. That's why I'm here instead of there.”

I sat down on the floor next to her. “I still don't understand what the problem is. So you like to read? Big deal.”

“No. I like to read more than I like to be alive. It's not even reading. It's like the ultimate RPG and I can go questing and adventuring with people who are always completely in character. They never play without me.”

“I agree. It's really fun. That's why I want to make them.”

“For me, it's got out of hand.”

I stopped. “How out of hand?”

She hesitated before continuing. “Within the book's time, I have lived in that world for five years. I've been married for two years and in the story right now, I'm pregnant.”

I stared at her. “Do any of the books last that long?”

“The Gray Wolf's book has lasted that long.”

I made no expression to give away that I knew what she was talking about. I had never been allowed to read his book. The author had forbidden it and I was not about to go against his word.

“What do you like about it?”

“Moron,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I love it because I'm in love with Noatak, but he's the projection of a man who was young twenty years ago if not more.”

“And he married you in the book?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes filled with tears that looked like half self-pity and half self-hate.

My brain was firing. It had to mean something if he had married her within the pages of his book. Just like it had for Evander and his girlfriend. He had married her in his book and by Emi's account, they were the happiest couple in the world. If the Gray Wolf had married Clementine, then there had to be the possibility that he could love her. I had to learn more.

“What happens if you try to take a book out of the library?”

“You don't want to know. If it was anything reasonable, I would have done it ages ago.”

“I'll see if I can help you.”

“Help me? How?”

“I’ll think about it,” I declared, writing a few notes in my book.

⚘⚘⚘

The next person I had to see was Antony and finding him in a mood where he was willing to talk to me was tricky. I had a feeling that anything I said to him was going to make him feel like kicking my head in, but if Veda wanted him to be happy then I had to get on speaking terms with him.

It was afternoon and he sat on a bench beside the bus stop. He was smoking something that made him exhale orange smoke. I asked him about it since it seemed the only icebreaker there was.

“It's dragon's breath. Don't you use it yourself?”

“No. I've never seen it before.”

“Oh,” he said condescendingly, “then it's your first day.”

I ignored him. “What is it?”

“It's one of the perks of having a witch girlfriend. Pearl makes it for me. You're telling me Veda doesn't make it for you?”

He was making fun of me, but I had never seen anything like it. Even with its name, it wasn't a man thing. If it were, I would know about it. My family was all men. A woman had to be part of the equation. “No. What is it chemically?”

“Nothing illegal, though it is bad for you. It's never good for your lungs to breathe in burning air.”

“Does it give you a buzz at least?”

Antony glared at me. “Sort of.”

“What's it for?”

“It's a love potion.”

I chuckled. “It's not love unless it's magic, huh?”

“Don't get the wrong idea. It's not like Pearl is trying to bewitch me. I asked her to try making it for me. It's an old family recipe and I've always wanted to try it.”

I scratched behind my ear and examined Antony. He wasn't over Veda. That was why he was furrowing his brow so darkly. He liked Pearl just fine now that she had been brushed over with fairy dust, but that didn't mean he could just turn off his feelings for Veda like a switch. That was why he needed to smoke his love potion and stay close to Pearl.

It didn't matter what Antony's career goals were. He needed to get over Veda and I didn't know how to help him with that. She had never wanted him and she had been very clear about it. What was the problem?

It was me.

The fact that she was giving me attention was what was bothering him. So, I decided to try being honest with him.

I leaned my shoulder against the light post. “You're right. Veda doesn't make it for me. If I asked her to, she would refuse.”

“Aw, poor you.”

Then I clued into the rest of his problem with me. He thought I had ranked Pearl much lower than Veda. He wasn't wrong. I had. Pearl before the makeover was in a very low spot. My list went: Veda, Intarsia, big gap, Fair Isle, Clementine, and then Pearl. However, Pearl was not that much lower than Clementine. If I had to make the list over again, I would make it differently. I would list Veda, Intarsia, big gap, Pearl, another big gap, Fair Isle, and Clementine. Before my last conversation with Clementine, I would have placed her before Fair Isle, but after what she had told me, a romantic relationship between the two of us was completely out of the question.

“You know,” I said to Antony. “I didn't choose Veda because she was more beautiful than the other girls. All of them look alike to me.”

“Then why did you choose her?” he practically spat.

“Because, whether the rest of you can see it or not, she is the most like me. Our approach to witchcraft is similar. I find her hilarious. Did she ever make you laugh? She makes jokes the rest of you don't understand constantly. When I look at her, I can see we are both wolves. It makes me want to run with her. Did you feel that way about her when you were with her?”

Antony looked at me like I was a freak. His mouth hung open and it was like he didn't breathe while I spoke. Orange smoke hung around his mouth and nostrils and didn't move. “I can't believe any of that actually came out of your mouth,” he finally said. “Writers are freak'n weird.”

“It's not a story. Even though she's fighting me, our connection feels real.”

“Too bad. She doesn't think the two of you connect at all.”

“I know. Still, I want to know if you felt like the two of you were the same under your skins. Did she make you feel like that when you were with her?”

Antony shot me a deadly glare. “I can't wait for the bus with you around. I'm walking!” He strode angrily away from me.

I watched him until he was gone and then threw myself on the bus bench. Maybe that had done it. Right now, he was like a Chinese tiger who couldn't think. He had nothing but rage, but maybe I had set him on the right path to figuring out why he should forget Veda and move on. Just because a woman was beautiful did not make her right for you. The color of your souls together made her right. Antony only wanted Veda as a trophy and he was cross because Pearl wasn't as shiny.