Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1) (4 page)

I
wiped away the rest of the
silence
rune. It was almost spent anyway.

“Off,”
I said, gesturing for Joe to get off my car. I pushed his arm, and he stood up.

“What…”
he started.

I
ignored him and sat down in the driver’s seat. I’ve known Erica Fisher since
third grade. I’ve had staring contests with the girl. I would have known if she
was an Instinct… same way I could tell Joe was one. I tried to close the
driver’s side door, but Joe held it open by the metal along the top.

“What,
you’re not gonna give me a ride home?”

I
smiled into the rear view mirror. “Nope, hope you wore comfortable shoes.”

I
hit the gas, and the car sprang forward, leaving Joe standing in the parking
lot, his messenger bag around his chest. I was facing away from the exit, so I
flipped a U-turn, the wheels squealing because I was driving too fast.

Joe
started running toward my car. Right before he would have hit it, he covered
his head and jumped. The brake pedal felt rough against my bare foot. Joe went
through the glass and the metal of the door like it was painted air. He landed
in the passenger seat next to me. His shoulder hit into mine.

I
looked at him, and he smiled back at me.

“I’m
glad that worked,” he said.

“Seriously?”
I said. Erica was at the end of the parking lot making a left hand turn. I hit
the gas pedal. “Don’t you have any boundaries?”

Joe
put his right foot on my windshield, and both of his hands behind his head.
“Not really, no.” He smiled at me, and I couldn’t help smiling back.

I
reached the exit of the lot and then turned left. Erica’s car couldn’t be that
far away. I knew those streets well. I just walked through them this morning. I
lived my whole life here, same as Erica. She lived two blocks behind my house,
so if she were going home, she would turn right at the light.

Something
told me she wasn’t going toward her house.

“There,”
I said, pointing with my right hand.

The
silver car turned left at the light, toward the highway. I sped up in the right
lane, passing a green minivan on the left.

Joe
put his feet down on the ground. His hands perched on the dashboard, his
fingers brushing against the formed plastic.

“So,
what’s up?” he asked, with a false bravado.

“You
know that girl Erica, who followed behind us when we walked to third period?

“Yeah,
the hot red head.”

That
shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did. I rolled my eyes.

“Something
weird is going on,” I said. “I think she might be an Instinct.”

“Man,
did I sign up for the best job or what?”

“You’re
kind of a jerk, you know that?” I said, as I turned left at the light.

“Yeah,
I’ve been told that.” A flash of pain crossed his face so quick I wasn’t sure
if I even saw it. “Several times.”

I
turned back to the road. She was right there, stopped at the light on Twelfth
and Wall. I slowed down, unsure of what I should do next. I sat at the light
two cars behind her.

The
top of her convertible was down. Through the window of the car in front of me,
I saw her tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. She turned her face, as if
she was looking in her rear view mirror, and then she froze. I could almost see
her eyes locked on mine.

Then
the light changed to green, and she must have floored it. The car jumped into
the intersection, and I don’t think Erica even had time to see the car that
crashed into the side of her car. There was this horrible crunching noise.
Solid metal crumpled as if it were made of aluminum foil. The two cars
scrunched up together, silver convertible and gold SUV. They slid together and
came to a stop against a pole.

Screams
came from everywhere, and it took me a moment to realize that the person
screaming was me. I stopped myself. My throat felt raw. I just sat in the front
seat of my car, my fingers trembling, and I couldn’t stop whimpering.

Joe
got out of the car so fast I wasn’t sure if he opened the door or just slid
through it. He ran toward the cars, and I knew I should go out there with him,
but I couldn’t move. People pulled over all along the road. A middle age man
had his cell phone out. I could hear him reporting the accident. Joe went to
the gold SUV first and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He bent
down as if he was talking to the door, and then he pulled once more and the
door came off.

Inside
the gold car, I could see a pink booster seat and tiny pink tennis shoes.

I
left my car then, more running away from my vantage point than going to help anyone.
I walked by the broken cars, searching for Erica. Her windshield was smashed in
a circle, like a ripple on a pond of glass. Her head was down on the steering
wheel, and a line of blood split down from her scalp to her eyebrows. She
stirred against the steering wheel for a moment.

I
looked away. Joe was on the other side of the gold SUV now, and no one but me
saw him materialize through the smashed door and pull out an unconscious woman.
The woman from the SUV looked like a mom to me. A mom with an expensive hair
cut and real diamond earrings. What was a woman like that doing in our side of
the valley? Joe put her down on the grass, and put his fingers against her neck
to check for a pulse.

I
looked back at Erica, and there was this ripple of light that ran over her
entire body.

“Joe.”
I said. He turned from the woman and walked to my side. I pointed at Erica. The
ripple of light ran through her once more, and as it ran past Erica’s face, it
left behind another woman’s face in its trail.

The
woman was in her sixties probably, her hair frizzy and dyed a brown color.
White roots, almost an inch long, ran along her scalp. Blood dripped down her
mottled and wrinkled skin. Her eyes opened, and they weren’t green like
Erica’s, they were this brown so light it was almost yellow. They stared
intently into mine.

Her
mouth moved.

“Hide,”
she said, and then her body, dressed in the yellow and green cheerleader’s
uniform, was still.

I
turned away from this woman who was not Erica. Behind us, the wealthy mother
was stirring, and Joe ran to her side.

“Hey,”
he shouted. “Wake up. Look at me.” The woman opened her eyes. She sat up and
put her hand to her head.

“What
happened to me?” she asked.

“You’ve
been in an accident. The police are on their way.”

“I
don’t know where I am.”

“What?”
Joe asked.

“You’re
in Plymouth.” I said.

The
woman looked so confused. “What, where’s Plymouth? Is that by Toronto?”

Joe
leaned back. “No. It’s in Indiana.”

“What,
America?” She moved her hand to her neck. “What am I doing in the States?”

Joe
looked over at me. “Larissa, look at that,” he said, pointing at the SUV.

A
soft blue light reflected from the side of the gold SUV. I gasped. I knew that
color code.

I
didn’t know the rune. I took a pen from my back pocket and I copied the rune
down onto the skin on my forearm. I stood and walked towards the car, and I
wiped the remaining runelight on the SUV away with my fingers. My arms were
cold. Goose bumps covered my neck.

The
woman shook her head after I lifted the rune and it was as if a fog cleared
from her eyes.

“Where’s
my daughter? Sydney, where are you?”

Joe
reached for the woman’s hand, “She’s fine. She’s right here on the other side
of your car.”

He
helped support the woman and then walked behind the cars.

I
just stood there, my bare feet on broken glass, trying hard not to panic.

We
stayed there on the scene until it got dark. We watched as they towed the
broken cars and took Erica’s (or whatever the Witch’s name was) body away in an
ambulance that never bothered to turn on its lights. Sydney and her mother left
with a couple of people from emigration.

As
we walked back to my car, I tried to make sense of it. The only clear thing was
that some Instinct had been watching me. Or maybe they were watching Joe. I
didn’t know. I didn’t have a chance to ask the woman before she died in front
of me.

Because
some Rune compelled an innocent rube from outside Toronto on a two day journey
that ended two cars away from me, killing the Witch who was spying on us.

It
couldn’t have been an accident, but how could someone plan for something like
that? It was too random of a coincidence.

Honestly,
it made my head ache just thinking about it.

I
took Joe home after all. He lived in this two bedroom white house with black
shutters, right on the corner of a busy street. There were mature trees in the
front yard, and a fresh-trimmed hedge along the side of the house separated the
house from the road. His mom’s white pickup parked in the driveway.

He
looked over at me, gave me a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and then
left the car without a word.

When
I got home, I turned on both televisions and all three radios in the house. The
blaring noise was comforting to me, made me feel like I wasn’t in that creaking
house all by myself. Before I went to bed, I ran my fingers over the protection
rune my mother left above the front door. It was the exact same blue color code
as was drawn on the side of that gold SUV.

See,
every Witch has her own shade of runelight. It’s like their fingerprints, or
like a signature to mark their own work. The rune on the side of the SUV, was
the same color as my mom’s runelight.

That
was too big of a coincidence not to notice.

When
I woke up the next morning, the radio in my room was still playing. I clutched
my sister’s pink blanket close to my face and breathed in deep. There was still
a bit of her smell left in the blanket, even a half year later.

“Morning.”

I
startled and looked toward the unexpected voice. Joe sat with his back to me on
the end of my bed one of my paperbacks in his hands.

Holy
crap. I threw my pillow at him, “Get out.”

He
jumped off my bed and then turned, his hands up like he was playing dodge ball.

“You
didn’t answer all my questions,” he said, taking in me wearing one of my dad’s
work tee shirts I wore as pajamas.

I
threw my alarm clock at him, “Get out of my room.”

The
alarm clock phased through Joe’s body and landed with a crash against my plush
carpet.

Joe
raised one hand and fixed his hair so it stood straight up.

“Whatever.”
He stood and walked through my closed door.

I
put a hand on my heart to try to slow my heartbeat when Joe‘s head phased
halfway through my door.

“You
got any food?” he asked with a smile.

I
reached around in my bed trying to find something else to throw, but he ducked
out before I had the chance to lob something at his head.

“Show
off,” I shouted after him. I sat in my bed for a minute, taking a deep breath
to slow my heartbeat, and keeping myself covered in case he popped in on me
again. I climbed to my alarm clock, turned off the radio, and then carefully
walked to my door. The hallway was clear, but downstairs I could hear Joe
rifling through my silverware drawer. I opened my closet door, grabbed the
first dress I could find, and then I sprinted across the hall to the bathroom.

I
took the world’s fastest shower. And let me tell you, there was nothing calming
about taking a shower when some strange boy who could walk in at any moment and
probably wouldn’t even hesitate to do so is right down the hall. I dried off,
and then tried to put on the flowery dress I brought into the bathroom, but it
didn’t fit because I forgot to put my
transformation
rune on my stomach
before I put it on.

It’s
not like I was fat. Magic helped me stay trim, but my build is naturally much
bigger than is socially approved. So, I put the right rune on my stomach with
my fingers trembling, and then once the rune hit, I pulled the zipper up
without any hint of resistance.

My
hair was the one part of me that was naturally thin, but after I put the rest
of my
transformation
runes on, and smiled into the mirror, I looked the
way a pretty rube would after about an hour of preparation. It only took me
three minutes, including the shower. The clock in the bathroom said
seven-fifteen, so I still had about twenty minutes before I had to leave for
school.

Armed
with my
transformation
runes, I opened the bathroom and walked into the
hall. It was quiet downstairs, so I knew Joe wasn’t down there.

Down
the hall behind me, a noise came from inside my parent’s room. I found him in
my parent’s closet, standing over the mess of paperwork I had made when I
searched for any backup copies of my mom’s notebook.

He
looked around the room for a minute, taking in the dust on my parent’s
bedspread, the disarray of the open drawers, and the pile of paperwork on the
floor.

“Where
are your parents, Larissa?”

“Shut
up,” I whispered.

My
heart was so close to my throat that I couldn’t speak at a full volume. He
walked past me and I grabbed his arm.

“Don’t,
please.”

His
arm slipped through my grasp and he walked out my parent’s open door. I
followed behind him as he opened the white door with the words ‘Phoebe’s Room’
in a rainbow of painted wood cutouts. He opened the door, and I stood back, not
wanting to look in my sister Fee’s empty room.

I
started walking away, my eyes to the floor that so desperately needed vacuumed.
I took the stairs two at a time until I reached the bottom. Joe’s empty bowl
sat in the spotless sink. I opened up the dishwasher and put in his bowl. It
was Tuesday, so there was still another six days before it was full enough for
me to start it. I pulled out a clean bowl from the cupboard, poured some
cereal, and then turned to face the staircase.

Joe
walked down the stairs. I didn’t want to look at him, but his eyes, so full of
compassion and understanding, seemed to hold everything I needed. He walked
toward me and cupped my face with his left hand. I started crying then and he
pulled me into a tight hug. I kept my arms folded as he held me close.

We
stood like that for a while, me crying, and him not saying anything. I moved my
arms and held him back, my hands against his shoulder blades. He smelled like
soap.

It
was comfortable for about five seconds, and then it seemed weird. I backed up,
and Joe let me go without any resistance. I wiped my eyes and then pulled the
milk from the fridge.

“How
long ago?” he asked.

I
thought for a moment, although I didn’t need to.

“Eight
months and five days.” I took out a spoon and took a bite. I don’t think I
could taste anything.

“How’d
it happen?”

“Car
crash.”

His
eyes closed as he realized what yesterday must have been like for me.

“Dude,
I’m sorry,” he said.

He
opened his eyes and they were so blue. Light blue at the center and darker blue
around the edge. A sunflower of yellow swallowed his pupil. His eyebrows were
full, light freckles covered the bridge of his nose and cheeks, and his hair
defied gravity, looking like a casual mess as it fell over his ears.

I
looked away. “Thanks.”

The
kitchen in my house was always a place of safety for me. Somehow Joe added to
the comfort of this room. To me.

Then
he took it all away.

“How
do you pay for things?” he asked.

I
bit my lip, “Life insurance.”

“How
come no one knows?”

I
sighed. “The Grandmothers thought it would be best for me, as a fully accepted
Witch, to take care of myself. They put
hide
or
confusion
, or
maybe even a
forget
rune on my personal file. One of them, Giara, comes
and visits me every few months. She’s from Chicago.”

“Why
don’t you just go live with your grandmothers then?” he asked.

“They
aren’t my grandmothers. We’re not related. The Grandmothers are the leaders of
the Fellowship of Female Witches. There are four of them total, the strongest
two Witches from either branch of magic, Instincts and Runes. Giara is the
second in strength of the Runes.” I scratched my eyebrow. “I shouldn’t be
telling you this.”

“Because
of the friction between the two genders,” he said. “Who leads the men?”

“The
Grandfathers.” I answered. “I don’t know much about them, except that my dad
used to go to an annual golf tournament every May. He always said it was for
‘Networking,’ but my dad owned a Mexican Restaurant. What kind of networking
did he need to do?”

“Your
dad could do magic?”

“Yeah.
He was a Rune,” I said. “I don’t know anything else about how the male
Fellowship, or whatever it’s called, was about. There’s a strict ‘don’t spill
the beans to a girl policy.’ And my dad and I were never that close to begin
with.”

It
always felt weird to me, not knowing anything about the men’s side of magic.
Whenever I used to ask my dad about it, he’d close his eyes, and start humming
some song I didn’t recognize. My dad and I had this weird relationship. Even
when I was little, he didn’t like being in the same room as me, or talking to
me for more than a few minutes. And he never talked to me about magic at all.
For a while, I thought he hated me. But sometimes he’d buy me random gifts and
have my mom give them to me, or he’d kiss the top of my head when we were in a
crowd of people.

I
leaned against the kitchen counter and pulled myself up on the edge. It felt
good to talk about them, so maybe even Joe’s obnoxious round of questions still
ended up comforting me somehow.

My
cereal was starting to go soggy, so I picked up my bowl and started eating
again.

“Hey,”
I said when I remembered how to speak, “how did you know a rune?”

“Three
runes, actually.” Joe said, and then he sat down on one of the dining chairs
facing toward me. “This is gonna sound weird.”

“And
the rest of our conversations have been completely rube-like.” I said with my
mouth full of cereal.

Joe
smiled and then looked away, “I’ve always been good at patterns. You know,
seeing patterns in things. Like those curtains,” he said pointing toward the
kitchen window, “they’re embroidered with three different color blue threads,
and light and dark silver. The darker blue is used forty percent of the time,
followed by the medium blue at twenty, the light blue at about fifteen. The two
silvers were used an equal amount to show light and shadow...”

He
looked at me as if he was embarrassed. I could feel the heat from his eyes on
my face. I think I sat there with my mouth open. To me they were just white and
blue curtains.

I
swallowed, “What does that have to do with the runes?”

“There’s
a pattern there, in every rune. But the patterns… it’s like… They don’t
connect, in my brain.” Joe held his hands on either side of his face, and he
looked down at the ground as if he was in some other world.

He
shook his head, looked me in the eye, and smiled, “I saw my first rune when I
was five. This was when we lived in California. It just looked to me like a
pretty pattern, you know. I kept trying to draw it, once in blue crayon in the
corner of one of my mom’s library books. I saw another one of them when we
lived in Maine. I was, what nine then? I wrote them both down all the time. It
was like they stood out to me.”

“Well
duh, they glow.”

“L.O.L.,”
he spelled out with a straight face.

I
laughed.

He
continued, “Anyway I just started hunting for them. When I was fifteen, this
was when we lived in Utah, I used to trace the runes with my fingertips, and a
few times I swear I saw sparks.”

I
stopped moving. “You can do runes, too?” I asked. A chill ran up my neck.

“No,
I’ve tried. I was up all night last night trying, and all I could do was an
occasional spark.”

I
can’t tell you how much that relieved me. My mom used to tell me stories from
our history of men and women who were both Rune and Instinct... stories that
made me stay up all night with my light on.

My
mom always finished telling me these stories with this sentence, “Larissa, if
you ever meet an Instinct who can do runes, hide.”

The
fact that the woman in the silver convertible said the same thing to me right
before she died didn’t make me feel any better.