Landlocked (A water witch novel) (32 page)

I turned to the window and watched as the city scenery thinned to the sparse scape of the highway. The last light of day was gone and the moonlight bleached the darkness a gloomy gray. The familiar forest of shabby pines stretched up on either side, but looked sinister in the strange light. By the time the car pulled into the parking lot of the Bayou Baby, it was way passed closing time.

“See, they’re closed. Now can we do something not crazy, like have you tell me what’s going on?” I asked as Dylan parked the car.

“Cala will be here,” Sylvia opened the door.

I sprang out into the thick humid air and caught up to her. “And what does Cala have to do with any of this?”

“Everything,” she whispered, searching around the wide front door that bore a closed sign. Lifting up a box lid, she grabbed hold of a thick rope coiled at the bottom.

“What are you doing, looking for a spare key? Try the welcome mat.”

“Mari, stop being so snippy.” Sylvia pulled hard on the rope and a sound like a wind chime rang in the restaurant.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jaron and Dylan carrying
Owen between them. They had his arms draped over their shoulders, and if anyone caught sight of them, he could have passed for a guy who'd had too much to drink being supported by friends. A light flickered on and my palms started to sweat. What were we doing here? Had my family really lost it? Would these people scream and call the police? I wouldn’t blame them if they did. It’s what I’d do if a gaggle of strangers with an unconscious man rang the bell at my house at midnight.

The handle jiggled, and the door slowly crept open, spilling a wedge of light across the pavement.

“State your name and your business here,” said a low scratchy voice.

“It’s Sylvia—”

The door flew open and standing in its place was an old woman. She was as wrinkled as a raisin, but her eyes shone with such youthful ferocity it was impossible to guess her age. “Sylvia, sweet thing, what are you doing here at this hour?” she asked brightly. “I could get some gumbo on the stove—”

“No, Cala, we’ve brought Mari…” Sylvia gestured to everyone behind her and the old woman’s reaction wasn’t near as surprised as I’d though it would be.

“And a few others, I see. I wondered the last time if I could hold it back in her eighteenth year. Just getting too powerful…”

“I know, but there was no other option… I think they’ve found us.”

She nodded, deepening her double chin. “It was only a matter of time, child. Now come on in before anyone sees you,” Cala said, turning back into the place.

“Here, I got him,” Dylan said, taking the full weight of
Owen and carrying him through the doorway.

“Do you really think we’ll get answers here?” Jaron asked, meeting my eyes for the first time since we left.

“I don’t know. I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“What if we don’t like the answers we get… what if you don’t like what you find out?” He rubbed his palms together and inspected them while waiting for my answer.

“Knowing is always better. I don’t care what I find out in there. I just know that I’m ready to be done with all of the secrets, lies, and craziness.” When he didn’t look up or respond, I prodded, “Aren’t you?”

He nodded and walked through the doorway, taking my hand tightly in his before closing the door behind us.

The restaurant was dark and strangely hollow at night without the sounds of hungry customers chatting with one another. A door at the back of the room next to the kitchens stood ajar. I had never noticed it before, and as I got closer, I realized that it was built to look like part of the wall. Cala’s voice reached my ears.

“He’s got it bad,” she whispered. “Don’t know what they were giving him, any chance?”

“No,” Dylan said. “I wish we could tell you more, we just know that they were after him, and we couldn’t let that happen.”

Jaron paused in the doorway and looked at Cala. She was waving a stick over
Owen, who was lying flat on the floor. “What are you doing to him?” Jaron asked with a threatening edge to his voice.

Sylvia and Dylan raise their eyebrows. Cala seemed unperturbed.

“Don’t worry now, boy. I’m not planning on using your brother as a piñata, unless you think he has candy on him, of course…” She glanced at Jaron from underneath her heavy lidded eyes.

He suppressed a grin. “Can you help him?”

If I had asked the question it would have come out laced with skepticism, but his voice was saturated in so much hope it tugged at my heart.

“Yes, I believe that I can—”

“Really?” Jaron interrupted, stepping forward.

“Yes, really. Now get over here and let me get a look at you,” Cala said. He walked to the center of his room, skirting his brother, and stood beside her. She put her hand on his chin and pushed it left and right, fixing him with an intense gaze. “Did a number on you too, didn’t they? Willingly it looks like…” She turned to Sylvia. “I’ve got just the thing for these two, you’ll have to help me with the sick one—it may take a while to get him back. Few weeks even.”

Sylvia nodded. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

“Good news.” She walked to an ornate cupboard at the back wall and pulled open a drawer, after digging through it she held up a small mason jar filled with what looked like a bright green paste. She handed it to Sylvia. “You know how to use this already.”

Sylvia nodded. “Are you sure this is all there is to it? I could have made this at home.”

“Simple things were all they needed to fool this poor clueless boy.” She gestured to Jaron. “They’ve been keeping Owen stably under for a long time. They must have given him just enough to stay alive, but not enough to get better.”

“He’s not clueless!” I said.

“Maybe not as much as you, but clueless none-the-less,” Cala said offhand as she pulled ropes of varying size out of her cupboard.

My mouth fell open. I wasn’t used to being talked to like that.

“Don’t be upset, dear, it’s not an observation of intellect on either of your parts, I assure you. It’s more of a personal boast if anything, as I am the reason that you are clueless. Seems that I can’t keep you that way any longer.” Her stubby arm shot into the air, clenching a few bundles of dried herbs. “Here they are, I was about to go and get some fresh sage and rosemary out of the kitchen walk-in… but dried is so much better.” She took a length of rope and laid it across the table then lit the sage on fire with a match and threw it into a stone bowl. As the aromatic smoke wound up into the air, she began tying knots in the rope, whispering while her short fingers worked.

I looked quizzically at Sylvia. She mouthed the words, “It’s okay, ” and I turned back to watching Cala.

“All right,” she said as she pulled the last knot tight. “You.” She tossed the rope to Jaron. “Untie those.”

“Why,” he asked, raising an eyebrow and assessing her.

“Because you allowed them to bind you, now you must unbind yourself. Now untie every knot and think of the things that you have been sworn against speaking of.” She turned to face me. “And you, I’m so proud of the work that I have done on you, child. But I did tell them that it might not be in your best interest.”

I turned to my aunt and uncle. “What is she talking about?”

“We’ll tell you everything, just do what she asks,” Dylan whispered, sounding tired.

“Please, Mari,” Sylvia added.

Cala stood and left the room. She was only gone a moment and returned carrying a silver goblet that was oddly familiar, though I was sure I’d never seen a cup like it. It had been masterfully molded to look like a seashell and appeared to be an antique. She handed it to me; gold frothy liquid swirled inside of it.

“One moment, dearie,” Cala said, going back to her cupboard and grabbing the sprig of rosemary. She struck a match and lit the rosemary aflame, she let it burn for a few seconds and stuck it in the cup, where it sizzled as the fire was put out. “Drink up.”

I glanced at Jaron. He met my eyes and nodded toward where Sylvia and Dylan sat, and I understood. If I trusted them, I should drink. If I didn’t, we should get the hell out of there. I looked at my guardians and tipped the cup to my lips. They had made my whole life happy. If I couldn’t trust them, I couldn’t trust anyone. The cup was empty when I handed it back to Cala.

“Jaron, Mari, listen. Both of you have had some nasty jinxes lifted. You are going to feel tired, maybe even exhausted, that’s normal. But you are both cleansed—”

“What about my brother?” Jaron asked, still playing with the untied rope in his hands.

“Sylvia will be giving him medication, and, in time, he will be perfectly healthy—now if that is all, I’ll ask you to leave. Although my grounds are private, I cannot say that you came here unseen and word spreads faster down here, as you know.” She eyed Sylvia.

“Yes, we should hurry. I don’t want anyone waiting to meet us.”

It felt like someone had put mascara made of steel on my lashes, and I could barely keep my heavy eyelids open. Sleep was settling on me like a warm blanket, and I was having a hard time understanding what they were talking about.

“Good grief, they’re both falling asleep,” Sylvia said. “Thank you, Cala.”

“Of course. Keep her safe. She is the only hope any of you… any of us have.”

Dylan groaned under the weight of
Owen as he picked him up. On the way out of the room, he kicked Jaron in the leg, waking him.

“Huh?” Jaron mumbled before groggily standing up and following the two men.

“Come on, dear,” Sylvia said tenderly. She lifted me up and let me lean on her as we walked to the car. The cool night air on my face made me a little more alert, and I realized she was still talking, so I tried to pay attention. “Whatever you think after tonight, we love you… and always have.”

She settled me into the back seat with the other two unconscious people, and I fell asleep as soon as my butt hit the seat.

17

When I opened my eyes the next morning, the light burned them so badly I clamped them shut again.

“Mari?” Sylvia whispered.

I kept my eyes closed and replayed the previous day in my mind. So much had happened in so little amount of time. The day before had been the best day of my life and the worst day at the same time. Jaron and I had connected so deeply and kissed so passionately, but even that couldn’t overshadow the realization that my aunt and uncle had been lying to me my entire life. They might not have admitted it in so many words, but after what Cala had said, I knew.

“Maribel?”

I opened my eyes and again blinked back the sunlight that seemed too bright.

“Light hurting your eyes?” she asked.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

She sighed and sat at the foot of my bed. “Because I remember it hurt my eyes at first too. You’ll get adjusted and it will be normal for it to seem so bright.”

I shook my head. “Are you going to start telling me what’s going on? I just want you to be honest with me.”

She patted my leg. “Let’s go downstairs and have a talk.”

I followed her downstairs where Jaron and Dylan were waiting for us in the living room. “Where’s Owen?”

“In the guest house, he is just as stable as he was at the hospital,” Dylan replied. “Have a seat. You can ask anything you want.”

I sat down next to Jaron and gathered my thoughts. There were too many questions running through my mind. For some reason my nightmare and Sylvia’s reaction to it seemed like the start of all of this craziness. “Okay, a few weeks ago I had a nightmare and you freaked out.” I looked at Sylvia. “You said that my dreams were important. Why?”

“When you were four years old, we lived in another town, closer to the coast. We had raised you there for three years, we were comfortable and felt safer than we should have, we weren’t as vigilant as we should have been.” She paused. “You woke up one night screaming hysterically. It was so hard to see you that upset. Try as we could to calm you, you wouldn’t stop telling us that men were coming to hurt us… you were never a nervous child and I just knew you were right. We left the house just in time and were on the run for months before Dylan was sure that they were off our trail. You saved us.”