The Magick of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root) (41 page)

Merry’s face was covered with a wet towel, in the same salmon color as her skin.

“She’s hurt,” June Bug said, pointing to the couch where her mother rested.

“I’m fine, honey.” Merry smiled, dropping the washcloth into a bucket on the floor and revealing a shiner.
 

“What happened?” I asked, helping her to sit. Merry pursed her lips and I knew she wasn’t going to explain in front of June Bug.

“I’ll take care of your mommy,” I assured my niece. “Can you go play with Leo for a while?”

June Bug regarded me for a moment, then nodded, taking Leo’s hand and skipping off.

“So?” I asked, when they were out of hearing range. “What happened?”

Ruth Anne joined us, carrying a tray of tea and store-bought cookies.
 

“I was in the room with Mama,” Merry began. “She’d been sleeping all morning and I was trying to wake her up, to get her to eat a little something. Oh, Maggie, she’s getting so thin. I can hardly get broth down her anymore.
 

“Anyway, I finally got her to sit up and eat. She was so tired that after every bite, she’d fall asleep and I’d have to wake her up again. Then, after she woke up about the fifth time or so, she starts talking about wanting to go to the garden with Robbie.”
 

“Robbie?!”
 

 
“I told her she had to eat, but she kept saying Robbie was waiting for her and that she wanted to be with him.” Merry burrowed her face in her hands and I noticed that she no longer wore her diamond wedding ring.
 

Ruth Anne poured us tea. “I’m not trying to sound foreboding, but in most every culture around the world, people who are about to die report end of life experiences just like this one.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.
 

“An end of life experience is a vision that’s said to herald the transition between this life and the next. Mainly in the form of visitations from deceased family and friends. It happens just before the person…”
 

Ruth Anne ran her finger along her neck.

“What do you mean you aren't trying to sound foreboding? That’s the most foreboding thing I’ve ever heard. No one wants to hear that Ruth Anne!”

“Don’t hate the messenger.”

“Stop it, you two,” Merry said, lifting her face. “There’s more.”

“More?”
 

“Yes. After I fed her and changed her sheet––we’ve been going through a couple of sheets a day now––I tucked Mama in. As I was about to leave she pointed to something behind me. ‘Robbie,’ she said with a huge smile on her face.”

Merry leaned forward. Her eyes were wide. “There was an energy in the room, I swear it. I felt a presence behind me. I turned, and, and…”

“You saw him?”

“Yes. He was there, as clear and as solid as the two of you. And he was so young. Twenty-two, tops. He wore an army uniform, but not the kind they wear today. Old-fashioned ballooned pants that tucked into his boots and a wide-brimmed hat with a chin strap.”

Ruth Anne pulled out her notepad and drew a picture of a man in the outfit Merry described. It was a crude but effective rendering. “Did the uniform look like this?”

“That’s it. Like something in an old movie.”

“That’s no Vietnam or Korean War getup,” Ruth Anne said. “That looks much older.”

“What are you suggesting?” I demanded.

Ruth Anne tapped buttons on her smartphone. “Look at these,” she said. She slid her finger across the phone, revealing one old photo after another. Stone-faced boys in uniforms and chin-strapped hats stared back at us.
 

The captions read:
Soldiers of The First Great War.

“World War One?” I asked, my jaw going slack. Mother said he’d died in a war, but it couldn’t have been
that
war. “That would mean Mother’s much older than we thought.”

“Much, much older,” Ruth Anne agreed.
 

“When I saw this man, actually more like a boy, standing there in Mama’s room, I tried to shield her from him. All I could think of was that he was a stranger trying to hurt her.”

“Or hurt you,” I said.

“I never thought about that.” She shook her head. “I told the man to leave. All the while Mama kept saying ‘Robbie, Robbie’ and she was reaching her hand out to him and he was reaching his hand out to hers, right through me, like I wasn't even there. Feeling his hand inside me was such a shock, I think I might have screamed. As their fingers were about to touch, a woman appeared.”

“Larinda?”
 

“Yes. She was standing behind the man, smiling, but Mama didn’t notice. All she cared about was reaching Robbie. I grabbed Mama’s hand before he could touch her. That’s when I lost my balance and fell, hitting my head on her nightstand.” She pointed to her black eye.
 

“…It all happened so fast. When I looked again, Robbie and Larinda were gone and Mama was sleeping. When I checked on her she said she loved me and thanked me for taking care of her. Then she went back to sleep. Not another word about Robbie or Larinda. It was as if it never happened.”

“Freaky,” Ruth Anne said. “If Miss Sasha really did have an end of life experience, that doesn't explain why Larinda was there. In most every documented case, it’s only friends and family who have already passed.” Ruth Anne pulled at the tufts of her brown hair, scrunching her eyes in concentration.

“It’s all just one of Larinda’s illusions,” I said. “She wanted to spook you.”

“Well, it worked.”

 
I looked at the crystal bracelet on my wrist: Mother’s Circle. If I hadn’t taken it from her at the hospital, the dome wouldn’t have slipped and Larinda never would have gotten inside Dark Root.
 

“It’s not your fault,” Merry said, sensing my distress. “The Circle was meant to be yours. Now we need to fix what’s been broken.”

“I know.” I filled my lungs with air then pushed it out. “We have to keep our wits until then.”
 

Merry dabbed the washcloth to her eye again. “I was caught off guard. I’ll try not to freak out if I have another encounter.”

“You’re exhausted, that’s why.”

“I’ll try and be a bit more help,” Ruth Anne said, taking the last cookie from the tray. “Then maybe Larinda will come to me. I’d love to have a chat with her.”

“Good luck with that. She only comes when she isn’t wanted.”
 

I heard Leo laughing in the next room, a series of grunts and snorts.
 

I turned to Merry. “Ruth Anne probably told you already, but I’m taking Leo home tomorrow. That will be one less worry, anyway.”

Merry nodded. “Yes. She told me about your visit from the cop this morning. June Bug and I are really going to miss Leo.”

“Me, too.”

“You did all you could,” she said. “And maybe he’s a better person now than he used to be?”

“Maybe I am, too.”

I spent the evening saying goodbye to Leo. Though he’d been with me less than a month, I couldn’t imagine life without him.
 

“Now Leo, remember not to talk too much, at least at first,” I instructed him, folding up his shirts and packing them into his duffel bag. He had what he had come with and a few extra items I had purchased for him with the cash he had in his wallet: a pair of jeans, two new shirts, a package of socks and a package of underwear.

“You might miss me,” I said, folding his pants and tucking them into his bag. “But I’ll be thinking about you. Got that?”

“Can-dee,” he whined, staring out the window.

“Oh, will you quit whining about candy? This is important, Leo! You are…you are leaving.” The last word caught in my throat.
 

He lowered his head. I felt bad for scolding him.
 

“Want a Pixie Stick?”
 

He nodded, holding out his hand for the treat.

Before I packed his wallet I looked at his driver’s license. “I didn’t know your middle name was Geoffrey.” There was so much I didn’t know about him. So much I’d never know.

“Where we going?” he asked, placing his candy-coated hands in his lap.

I regarded him curiously. He had spoken a nearly full sentence, one that required thought and perception. “We are going to see your mother. Do you remember your mother?”

He blinked twice but didn’t respond.

“I’m sure she’s really nice. And she will take good care of you.”

He took my hand and held it, interlocking our fingers. “Magg-ee my mother.”
 

I yanked my hand away. “No, Leo! No! Maggie’s not your mother”
 

I tossed his duffel bag into the hall while he stared at me. “Stop looking at me,” I ordered. “Help me pack. Find the rest of your things.”

But he didn't move. He continued to sit in silence, watching as I removed every trace of him from my bedroom.
 

How much did he really understand? I wondered. Perhaps there was a whole world going on inside of him he wasn’t able to articulate. Or maybe he was starting to remember his old life.

Panic slammed me in the chest.
 

If he
was
starting to remember…

“Leo, do you remember when we found you?” I asked, hurrying back to the bed. “Do you remember that night?”

He nodded, fiddling with his thumbs.

“What do you remember?”

“Dark. Scary. Dirty.” He pedaled his feet up and down on the hardwood floor, shaking his hands by his side.
 

“Anything else?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Worms.”

“Worms?” Oh, God. Poor Leo. Alone and scared in the dark, fighting his way through dirt and worms to come back. And it was my fault.

I wanted to tell him not to worry because I would take care of him. But it was his real mother’s job now.
 

“It’s bedtime,” I said. “Want me to tuck you in?”

“Uh-huh.” He crawled under the covers. I shut off the light and pulled the blanket over, kissing his cheek. He smelled like crayons and baby powder.
 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, stroking his hair. “For everything.”
 

He was asleep before I spoke the words.
 

“Have sweet dreams,” I said, waving my hands over him, casting a spell of peace upon him as his slumber deepened.