PART IX: CATHERINE

When I wake the next morning, I feel somewhat rejuvenated. Although I haven’t stopped thinking about Max and what must be done to stop him, the guilt I’d been carrying for years regarding the way I’d left T’Chuba in England has been somewhat relieved since my encounter in the woods the night before.

I dress in sweatpants and a sweatshirt and walk into the living room. Bolan is sitting on the floor, petting Bregaris who’s laying on his side, pulling the wood sprite’s arm this way and that with his giant black paw, directing Bolan’s hand where he wants to be rubbed.

“Good morning,” the wood sprite says.

“Good morning,” I say. “I’m going to the pond.”

Bregaris stands and stretches and yawns. Bolan gently hops onto the black panther’s back and holds firmly to his collar as they follow me downstairs and out the backdoor.

“Would you mind keeping him busy on the grass while I attempt to see if I can find Max?” I ask. “If he jumps in the water and starts splashing around, I’m afraid the waves will be too disruptive to see anything.”

“Of course,” Bolan says as he directs the panther to lie down in the grass.

I kneel at the edge of the pond and lean over the water. With my hands on my knees, I begin to repeatedly chant an incantation that will allow me to use the pond’s surface like a crystal ball. I breathe in and out and attempt to focus. After a time, the world around me begins to fade and all I’m able to perceive is the water’s flat surface. In the pond’s reflection, I see Max in a library, reading a book. On the pages of the book is a woodcut image of a vampire. My brother is now aware of what he is. This image becomes murky and obscured before it slowly refocuses. Now I see Max hitchhiking at night near a highway onramp that looks to be in New York City. He appears cleaner and is wearing different clothes. He gets picked up by a blue van. The van has a Maine license plate. If Max’s destination is Rhode Island, there’s a good chance he’s arrived by now. The vision ends and I fall gently onto my side.

When I open my eyes, Bolan is leaning over me, his hands on his knees, and a black-capped chickadee on his shoulder.

“He’s in Rhode Island,” the wood sprite says. “This bird just told me that a colony of bats saw him come into town last night. He arrived in a blue van.”

“Where is he right now?” I ask, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.

Bolan turns to the chickadee on his shoulder and whistles. The bird cocks its head and whistles back. “She doesn’t know,” Bolan says.

“It’s day. Wherever he is, he’s sleeping,” I say, thinking out loud.

I say goodbye to the wood sprite and walk Bregaris back into the house. I shower and dress for work. I put the container of leftover pad thai in my book bag along with an umbrella and my wallet. I pull on a navy pea coat and walk out the door.

***

Business is slow, and I have plenty of time to unload inventory. I try my best to keep busy. If I stop working, I’ll begin to worry about where Max is and what he’ll get up to as soon as the sun goes down. I close the store at noon and reheat my pad thai in a microwave I keep in the back.

After eating, I light a candle and say an incantation that will grant me protection. At one o’clock I reopen the store and continue to work, going through boxes of donated books. After three o’clock, Calvin and his friend Amanda arrive. I hadn’t been expecting them. They leave their bicycles on the sidewalk.

“Why don’t you two bring your bikes inside if they’re not going to be locked up,” I say, sighing.

I don’t know how I’m going to keep these two busy, but I’ll think of something. The children wheel their bikes into the store and lean them against the wall behind my desk.

“What happened to the sword?” Calvin asks.

I turn to look up at the scimitar that has been hanging above my desk for years. It’s gone. I look around on the floor, assuming it fell during the night, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You’re such a liar, Calvin,” Amanda says.

“No, I swear, she had a sword.”

Amanda sighs, exasperatedly. “Where are your witch books?”

“Witch books?” I ask.

“Yeah, you know, the ones with the spells in them and stuff,” the girl says.

“Follow me,” I say. Amanda follows me over to a small bookcase. I’m wondering where the scimitar could have disappeared to. There was no sign of anyone breaking into the store, and I never left my desk while customers were browsing. I squat in front of the bookcase. Amanda sits herself cross-legged on the rug. “This shelf,” I say, referring to the top shelf of the small bookcase, “holds books about ghosts and spirits. This middle shelf has books about the occult and cryptozoology.”

“Cryptozoo-what?”

“Cryptozoology. That’s the study of animals and creatures that may or may not exist.”

“Like bigfoot,” Amanda says.

“Yes, exactly,” I say.

“What’s on the bottom shelf.”

“Ah, that’s the shelf dedicated to witchcraft and Wicca,” I say, pulling a book off the shelf and opening it. “This is The Modern Guide to Witchcraft.”

Amanda stares intently as I flip through the first few pages that go over the definition of witchcraft as well as common misconceptions about witches. She seems interested and takes the book over to one of two comfy chairs I have set up in the back of the store. Calvin has already hopped into the other chair, a small stack of Peanuts collections on the floor next to him.

“That ought to keep them busy for a while,” I whisper to myself as I go back to work.

The rest of the afternoon goes by in pleasant peacefulness. I organize more books and fill some boxes with duplicates to take to the library. I haven’t forgotten the missing scimitar, but I can’t imagine where it disappeared to.

Just after four, Calvin and Amanda say goodbye. I tell them they can each take one book. Calvin chooses a Peanuts collection and Amanda chooses The Modern Guide to Witchcraft. “Good choices!” I say. Amanda has a basket on the front of her bike and carries both books back for her and Calvin. I wave goodbye out the door as the children ride off.

I tidy up and put the books back that Calvin and Amanda had taken out to peruse. In the later part of the afternoon, there’s some patronage from folks getting out of work, mostly regular customers.

As the sun begins to go down, I start to worry. Max will be waking soon. If he is in Rhode Island, as Bolan believes him to be, he’s following the only clue he has: the book I’d left in his pocket with my store’s name and address stamped inside.

As soon as the last customer has left, I flip the sign to closed and begin shutting off the lights, preparing to leave for the day. I’m anxious to get home as I sense something wicked in the air.