Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1) (7 page)

You
would think things would have been weird between Joe and me after that, but no,
they went on just the same as normal. Almost rube-like, I should say.

Halfway
through November, Joe broke into my house early in the morning. This happened a
lot, so that in and of itself wasn’t too remarkable.

I
woke up in the morning, and Joe lay on the side of my bed where I was facing.
This too was a common occurrence. You would think it was… you know… romantic,
but by then it felt more like an insult. He could lie down next to me on my bed
with no one in the house, and still not be attracted to me.

Rude.

Joe
seemed agitated, his head in his hands, his elbows almost pushing me off my own
bed.

“Morning,”
I said, and then I turned from my side to face the ceiling. I had
glow-in-the-dark stars up there since my ninth birthday. My dad bought them for
me because I was in my ‘sleep under the stars’ stage, and they wanted me to
occasionally sleep indoors. Go figure.

“I
saw something strange on my way here,” Joe said.

I
looked over at the clock on my alarm. It was four-thirteen in the morning. With
a groan, I pulled my pillow from under Joe’s head and held it over my own.

“Don’t
you ever sleep?” I asked.

He
ignored my complaining. That too was common. “You know that house on Lincoln?”

There
were many houses on Lincoln.

“Yes,”
I said, hoping for him to finish whatever he was saying so I could go back to
sleep.

He
turned on his side so he faced me. He jostled the bed, waking me up more. I put
the pillow back under my head and then adjusted so I could watch him as he
spoke.

“That
abandoned house, the one with the wood covering the windows and the rotten
roof.” He looked at me as if I was supposed to know what he was talking about,
but I didn’t. “With the graffiti on the side.”

Suddenly
I remembered, “and the birds” I said.

‘Yes.”
He answered. It was this ancient house on the corner of a busy street just
itching for a bulldozer. It had one of those commercial ‘for sale’ signs in
front for more than a year, and no one ventured near it, even with stores and
restaurants going up all around it. A flock of blackbirds had made their nest
in the top window. I looked at Joe.

“I
saw a rune on the front door.”

I
sat up on my elbow, my comforter falling down to my waist, reminding me that I
didn’t have my
thin
rune on. I didn’t really care. Joe didn’t like me
thin or regular, so who cared what I looked like in front of him?

Okay,
me. I cared. I tried not to, but I still did.

“What?”
I asked.

Joe
smiled when he could see I was interested. “You want to go check it out with
me?”

I
sighed and lay back down on my pillow, turning my face to my silent clock. Two
more hours. I had two more hours of blissful sleep.

“Fine.”
I said, knowing he would keep bugging me until I said yes.

I
moved my feet out of bed and walked to my bedroom door. I gestured for him to
leave the room so I could change. He stood up, and I saw he was wearing his
jeans and a black jacket. His fingers and his cheeks were red with chill, so I
knew it would be a cold one today.

“Don’t
go back to sleep.” He said pointing his finger at me.

I
rolled my eyes, even though I had considered it. Just for a moment. As I
dressed, my curiosity started making me excited to find out who had left a rune
on the abandoned house.

I
did the rune on my stomach so I could put on my clothes and then stopped in
front of my closet to decide what to wear. The outfit I had picked out to wear:
my too-large polyester pink bowling shirt with a brown leather belt to turn it
into a dress, and wool tights, would be perhaps a bit too obvious for breaking
and entering. While pondering what to wear during my first felony, Joe popped
his head it.

“Don’t
go back to…”

I
was just wearing a bra, my patterned wool tights and black ankle boots. Joe
stared at me for a second, and then jumped back behind my wall.

“Sorry,”
he shouted, his voice muffled by the plaster walls.

I
stood there, frozen like a rabbit in front of a semi. I grabbed the first shirt
I found from my dresser. But it wasn’t a shirt, it was my black lace dress from
the Halloween dance. I threw it onto the floor and instead grabbed a plain tee
shirt and an old black jacket I had recently thrifted. I zipped up the jacket,
and then pulled a gray cotton skirt over the tights. I pulled my hair back in a
ponytail and didn’t bother doing a rune to make it curl.

Joe
was downstairs eating one of my Pop-Tarts. He handed me one of the crinkly
packages: blueberry (my favorite) and said, “let’s go.” Like nothing stressful
had just happened.

Then
he walked out of the room leaving both boxes on the counter. I put both my
blueberry and the box of smores flavored ones that I bought for him back in the
breakfast cupboard and closed the door.

“Riz,
your OCD is slowing us down,” he said from the front room.

I
laughed once, and then walked in slow motion from the kitchen to the front
room.

Joe
wasn’t laughing, “I will pick you up and drag you there.”

“I’d
like to see you try,” I teased, slowing down my walking even more.

He
threw me over his shoulder, his arms around the back of my knees, my butt next
to his head and my head over his back.

“How
much do you weigh, Riz? Sheesh.”

Rude.
I ignored his comment, glad that we were back to normal. We walked straight
though my closed front door. I hated when he pulled me through a wall. It felt
itchy. I can’t explain it. He put me down on my front porch.

“You’re
being way too serious for four in the morning, Joe,” I said, prickling at the
chill.

Fresh
snow covered my front lawn, but I could see the dark gray cement on my
driveway.

Joe
had shoveled my driveway, all the way up to my front steps. I stood there with
my mouth open.

I
wanted to hug him, but I didn’t. I wasn’t exactly comfortable yet with the idea
of that part of my body so close to him.

“You
are the nicest guy,” I said instead.

He
smiled and shrugged, looking down at the ground.

“Larissa,
we’ve got to hurry. I want to get home so I can shovel my mom’s before she goes
to school.”

I
nodded and then walked down the steps, careful not to slip on any ice. The
steps didn’t feel slippery though. My garage was open. He already had my keys,
so I went around to the passenger side and wiped the runelight for stay so I
could open the car door. Joe preferred to drive, and I didn’t mind so much. It
made me feel like someone was taking care of me, which sounds weird now.

He
drove us to the abandoned house and then parked in the shopping mart parking
lot next door.

“Why’d
you walk all the way out here in the snow?“ I asked.

“I
didn’t want you to slip,” he said, combing his hair straight up again. It was a
constant war against gravity. “So I bought some more ice melter for you.”

Touched
by his thoughtfulness, I fought the desire to hug him, because I knew a
stronger desire to kiss him was right behind it.

“Thanks.”
I said instead.

He
gave me one of his giant smiles, and I wanted to touch his face, put my fingers
through that hair of his and kiss those curved and gentle lips. I felt his eyes
on me, burning the skin of my lips, and warming my chest.

I
opened the car door and stepped out into the frigid air, grateful for the icy
freedom.

The
house was lit by streetlights, and the eerie orange glow made it look more like
a haunted house than ever before. Its gray wood shingles were cracked, and a
few were missing. The moldy front porch creaked when I stepped on it. I hoped
it wouldn’t break and make me fall. As we took cautious steps across the
ancient wood on the front porch, Joe grabbed my hand, and I worried about a
different kind of falling.

“Careful,”
he said, his eyes on the ground.

On
the front door, beneath the peeling white paint, was a deep green rune. I had
no idea what it was for, or what it was doing. I peeled back the paint a little
bit more, revealing a larger view of the rune.

“I
already wrote it down in your notebook,” Joe said when he looked at me.

I
tried the doorknob. It was locked.

We
stood there for a little while; all the hurry was gone from Joe’s expression.
He nodded once when it seemed like he made up his mind to go in.

“Are
you sure this is a good idea?” I asked Joe as he put my arm around his
shoulder.

He
hoisted me up into his arms and then turned to look at me. Our noses were about
an inch away from each other.

“Sure,
what could happen?” A flash of nervousness crossed his face.

Then
with my eyes closed, we walked through the front door.

It
was dark inside the creaking house. Joe put my feet down on the ground but
still held my hand. The streetlight shined through cracks between the windows,
and the walls. There was furniture inside covered with drop cloths. It was
incredibly dusty, and the air tasted damp and stale. As my eyes adjusted, I saw
one pair of footprints in front of us. It looked like a woman’s high heels,
pointy at the top with just a speck missing behind, walking toward the back of
the house.

Silently,
my heartbeat pounding loud enough I could almost hear it, we followed the
footsteps. The air was so thick with dust I felt I was about to sneeze. Several
of the floorboards were missing, so our eyes were on our footing. Neither of us
saw the black thing fly toward Joe’s head.

Joe
swore and let go of my hand so he could brush his fingers through his hair. I
didn’t see anything move; it was almost as though a shadow had fallen and hit
him.

There
was a creaking sound coming from upstairs. I put my arm around Joe’s waist and
moved in close to him. I was so scared, I didn’t notice this was something I
wasn’t supposed to do.

“Can
we go?” I whispered.

Joe
talked in his regular voice, “Just a little farther.”

He
put his hand on my shoulder, and we followed the footsteps around the corner.
Black shadows streamed in and crashed into both of us. I closed my eyes, but
still it felt like someone tapped my shoulder and the side of my head with warm
bursts of air.

This
isn’t real
, I thought. Nothing was going to hurt us.

The
footsteps went through a series of four filthy rooms, ending again at the front
door at the base of the staircase. The footprints weren’t headed up the stairs
when they first came into the house, but they were now. The ceiling creaked
above us. Someone else was in the house.

“Seriously,
I’m voting we go,” I said pointing with my thumb to the front door right behind
me.

“Come
on.” He started walking forward away from the door, but I didn’t move. He let
go of me and started up the staircase. There was another creak in the ceiling
above me, and I swear it felt like someone was watching me. I could feel the
goose bumps rising up my neck. I sighed and then followed behind him. The
ancient wood on a step gave out, and Joe slid through up to his left knee.

He
swore again, and then for my benefit he said, “um… watch your step.”

When
we got to the top, the morning sunrise streamed through the window,
illuminating the dust motes floating in the air. There was no one up there. The
attic was one open room, the floor beyond the staircase led to a window. Joe
followed the footprints as they walked to the window and then he stuck his head
out, blocking some of the light.

“She’s
gone,” he said, after a moment.

I
felt like I could finally breathe. When I reached the top of the stairs, I
looked around. Behind peeling plaster, thin horizontal beams made the arched
walls look like notebook paper. There were birds’ nests and dust everywhere. In
the corner on the floor, something sparkled. I walked toward it and bent down,
reaching between thin branches and a cold mouse body to retrieve a sparkly pink
shoe.

 It
was my sister’s princess shoe. The shoe that had been missing since the
accident had a dark red stain on the inside. When I realized what it was, I
dropped the shoe with a scream.

It
was my sister’s blood.

We
drove back to Joe’s house in silence. I held the shoe in my left hand, and
every few seconds I picked it up and looked at it. I’m not going to lie and say
I wasn’t freaked out. I was freaked out. I kept turning the shoe around in my
hands, the sparkles rough against my fingertips, trying to convince myself that
the shoe was real. Trying not to think about what it meant that someone left my
sister’s shoe for me to find.

I
didn’t consider Joe’s reaction at all, but apparently, he was also freaking out
about something.

We
pulled along the side of his house, but didn’t pull in the snow-covered
driveway. Joe left the car without removing the keys from the ignition, or even
opening the door.

Joe
walked through the garage door and pulled out a brand new snow shovel. I opened
the side door with the hand not holding the much-freaked-out-over shoe.

“You
want some help?” I asked, trying to think about something else.

Joe
didn’t look at me. “No.”

“Okay,”
I said trying to hide that his tone hurt my feelings. “I’ll come pick you up
for school.”

The
shovel scraped against the broken cement of his driveway. Joe finished a line
and then threw the snow on his lawn.

“I
don’t want you to,” he said, not looking at me.

I
felt the emphasis he put on the words I don’t want you, so I clenched my lips
together, got in the driver seat, and left without looking back at him.

Oh,
he drove me crazy. I came home with forty minutes left before I needed to go to
school, but I was too jazzed up to go back to sleep. My house was so quiet and
so empty. I took a long shower, trying to convince myself that what happened
was a dream. It was easier than you would think for me to do.

After
my shower, I dressed in my best lace skirt and a light green sweater that fit
snug against my magically thin frame. I twisted my hair up so it piled on my
head like I was Audrey Hepburn. My hair went perfect, and I looked pretty. No,
dang it, I looked beautiful.

I
still didn’t feel like enough.

I
pulled up at Joe’s house, and drove into the shoveled driveway, leaving room
for Ms. P’s truck to pull out. When I knocked on his front door, Ms. P. opened
it and let me in. She made pancakes and gave me a plateful. It tasted
wonderful, like syrup and home all at the same time.

Ms.
P. knocked on Joe’s door.

“This
is your last warning, Joseph. If you don’t get up now, we are going to be
late.” She looked at her watch.

“Don’t
worry... I’ll give him a ride.” I said.

“Thanks,
Larissa,” she said. “I don’t know what I would do without you. He got up early
to shovel the walk, and then just crashed.”

“No
problem, Ms. P.” I said, eating another bite of my pancakes.

She
grabbed her jacket from a hook by the door, and felt in the pockets for her
keys.

“Try
and make him eat something,” She said.

I
smiled, and she left. I stood up and opened Joe’s bedroom door. If he could
walk in on me anytime he wanted, then I could do the same to him. I was sick of
waiting until he wanted to see me in order for me to see him. I lay down on the
side of his bed. His room looked strange from this angle; the mural seemed to
be crashing down on the bed.

Joe
put his head under his pillow. I smiled. Just three hours ago, that had been
me.

“So
how do you like it?” I asked him.

“Go
away, Riz.”

I
didn’t move. “It’s obnoxious isn’t it, to want to sleep and have someone
talking your ear off.”

Joe
didn’t respond.

“I’ve
tried that one too, Joe: being silent, and it doesn’t work.” Joe nestled deeper
in the pillow.

“If
you don’t get up soon, Joe, you are going to be late for school.” I said.

“I
don’t care.”

This
was getting annoying. “What’s your problem, Joe?”

Joe
leaned on his side facing me, “You, Riz. You’re my problem. I want you to go
away.”

My
tears betrayed me at the worst moment. I bit my lip and tried not to make a
sound, but they ran down my face. By the look on his face, you would think I
was the one who just said something horrible. Pain, regret, and most
noticeably, fear flashed across his face.

I
wish I could say I stood and left him there, or that I regained the last shred
of composure I had and left with my dignity. I didn’t.

“What
did I do?” I whispered instead.

Joe
looked at me, our bodies facing each other close on his bed, so close our toes
were touching. I let him see everything I was feeling, my fear, my pain at his
words, even my feelings for him. I didn’t hide anything, and he in return
stared at me stone faced, until that wall cracked. He turned to face his wall,
his body completely still.

“What
is it?” I asked, “What’s wrong?”

Joe
didn’t move; he was quiet, and then his shoulders started shaking in silent
sobs. I put my hand on his shoulder,

“What
happened?”

His
fingers started twisting in rune shapes on the pillow. Sparks flew from his fingers.
I held my hand against his fingers, making them stop.

“I’m
sorry,” he said looking at his fingers, “I didn’t meant to…” There was panic on
his face.

“Joe,
you’re scaring me,” I said.

He
had been acting normal, well normal for Joe anyway, until he had dropped me
off.

Intuition
flashed, “What happened at the house?”

Joe
moved his hand from under mine. “Nothing.”

“I’m
not dumb.”

Joe
sat up and faced away from the mural on the other side of his room. He sat with
good posture, his hands on his knees.

His
voice started quietly, “I followed the footsteps to the window, and looked
outside. The footsteps ran across the fresh snow on the roof. On the other side
of the window in the snow was the rune for water scraped out of the snow. I
looked outside and across the street; there was this woman staring at me, and
she pulled her finger across her throat.”

I
stood up.

He
turned and looked at me, and there was terror in his eyes.

“At
that exact moment you screamed, and I thought… I thought someone had hurt you.”

“They
know.” I whispered. I looked around his room, and it felt like that wave of
runes thundered down on me. “Crap. The Grandmothers know you can do runes.”

“They
can threaten me all they want, but no one hurts my friends.” He stood up and
faced me, his bed a barrier in between us. “And you’re my best friend, Larissa.
The best friend I have ever had. I will never let anyone hurt you.”

 “The
Grandmothers know you can do runes, and they know I’m associated with you.
They’re in contact with your mom. That means her life is in danger too.” I said
to myself, panicking so much I didn’t think about the impact my words would
have on Joe.

“But
she’s a rube,” he said. “She doesn’t know anything about magic. They won’t hurt
her, right?”

“The
Grandmothers have hurt a lot of people, taking down an Instinct who can do
runes. My mom told me a story once, when I was barely thirteen, about a
nineteen year-old Instinct who discovered she could do runes. I don’t remember
what she did to gain the Grandmother’s wrath, but I remember that she thought
to evade them by doing the rune for
hide
. Normally when a Rune performs
hide
,
it’s like you can’t see them; they could be standing in the same room, and your
eyes would just glaze past them. I used to know that rune, back when I was a
kid. Anyway, the Grandmothers were ruthless. They killed every shadow who
moved; they killed innocents, rubes, children. The Instinct finally gave
herself up to stop them from killing any more. But then, with her in custody,
they killed the last connection to her past just in case she was hiding behind
another’s face.”

“You
should be dead right now,“ I told him. “You did a rune, and they know it. And
they warned you. Why would they have warned you, but not silenced… they’ve
shown unusual kindness to you, and I’m scared. I don’t know enough runes to
protect you. To protect your mom. I need my mom’s notebook. And I need it now.”

“Well,
I’ll help you get it.”

“That’s
the thing,” I said. “I don’t know where it is. It could be anywhere. It could
be in the Grandmothers’ Study, or at Giara’s house, or hidden under a rock in
the middle of Russia.”

“So
what can we do?” he asked.

“I
don’t know,” I said. “Do you see now why I’m freaking out?”

Joe
sat back down on the bed. He pulled the blanket over his knees and stared into
space for a minute. I stared at him, hoping that some brilliant thing would pop
into his mind and save us.

I
breathed in deep and tried to slow my heartbeat.

“Okay…”
I said. “So they know. They were just warning you not to do it again. Maybe you
haven’t crossed the line yet. Maybe it’s not as bad as my mom said. If they
were going to act, they would have.”

“Okay,”
he said.

Why
didn’t they do anything? I looked around his room, as my memory of what
happened finally crystallized into a clear sense of ‘Oh crap, I’m in trouble.’
I always felt like the Grandmothers were monsters in the dark, protecting and
threatening at the same time. But maybe the stories were exaggerated, or maybe
even fiction. A lie to teach me to obey.

“But
we’re okay…” I said, a fake smile hiding my thoughts. “I’m obviously not any
kind of a threat to them, and you…” I looked at him for a second and then
turned quickly away. “Anyway, if they were going to act, they would have.”

“Okay.”
Joe looked at me once, his hand brushing against my forearm. “Are you in
trouble ‘cause of me?”

I
looked down at the floor.

“Yeah,
you could say that.” I admitted.

My
neck ached, and my eyes were tired. It was just too much, too much in one day.
I was exhausted and it wasn’t even eight a.m. yet. I lay down on Joe’s bed and
pulled the covers over my head.

“You
are right about one thing, though.” I said through his comforter.

“What?”

I’m
gonna get hurt because of you
, I thought but
didn’t say.

Instead
of the truth, I hid behind another smile as I pulled the comforter away from my
face.

“Ditching
school seems like a good idea.” The bed moved as he lay back down next to me.
“Just for today.”

We
lay facing each other, sharing Joe’s pillow. His sheets smelled like tide as
they covered us. We felt like we were safe in a tent. A tent in a tornado
maybe, but at least we couldn’t see the storm raging outside.

“I’m
sorry,” Joe said. “I’m so sorry.”

I
didn’t know if he was apologizing for his words or for what was going to happen
to me because of him. Either way, I didn’t have a response. I turned my back to
him and tried to fall asleep.