Beautiful Souls (18 page)

    
              I walked down the sidewalk along the front of the antique shop toward my Bug. The streets and sidewalks were alight in the glow from the refurbished gaslights, and autumn décor could be found hung and draped across anything that didn’t move.

    
              The eeriness crept up my spine once again, raised the hairs on my neck till they tingled, and a burning sensation nagged at my back, alerting me that I was being watched. I turned quickly to look, but saw no one.

    
              I hopped inside my Bug parked at the corner, whipped around the intersection doing a U-turn, and just barely made it through the only stop light in town before the yellow light turned red. I headed down Highway 13 till I saw the ‘DINER’ sign flashing in the murky evening light, and made the slight turn leading to the gravel parking lot. Now that Zoey was acting so strangely, I was having second thoughts about meeting her for dinner. I decided to still show because I really needed to find out about my visions, and standing her up would forever ruin any chance I had in doing just that.

    
              I nervously walked across the parking lot of
‘Montey’s Family Restaurant & Grill’
moments later, followed the sidewalk to the main entrance, and gripped my backpack tightly, keeping it snug against my shoulder. I chose a small booth in back, but wasn’t able to sneak in as unnoticed as I’d hoped.

    
              Mia, Montey’s wife, waitressed a few nights every week to help out with the dinner rushes. She caught a glimpse of me just as I slid into my chosen booth.

    
              Mia walked out from the back room with a giant stack of napkins tucked between her hands and her waist, her chin playing a careful balancing act with the top of the stack. She was successful not to break the napkin tower while in route to the front counter, then she made her rounds and filled each table’s chrome napkin holders to capacity.

    
              “Hi, sweetie,” she greeted me cheerfully. “I’ll be right with you.”

    
              Mia continued to fill the holders till her napkin tower had been completely depleted, then she made her way to the end of my booth, whipped out the pencil hiding behind her ear covered up by her curly gray hair, and fished for the order pad tucked into the hip pocket of her faded jeans.

    
              “You expecting your mom and dad tonight?” Mia inquired.

    
              “No, not tonight, Mia. I’m meeting a friend from school. Zoey? She just moved to town last week.”

    
              “Oh, yeah. Zoey Fitz, something ‘er other, right?”

    
              I smiled politely and shook my head in slight disbelief, yet I should have expected as much. I should have already known the way gossip travels in this town. I’d surely lived here long enough to know the speed at which gossip flies around here.

    
              Mia chuckled, “Can’t pass gas in a small town without everyone gettin' wind of it, huh.”

    
              I’d heard this expression my entire life, spoken from the mouths of almost every Fairview citizen my parents’ ages and older. “I suppose so,” was the only response I could muster.

    
              “So, you wanna go ahead and order your regular?”

    
              My regular was a cheeseburger plain, old-fashioned waffle fries, and a large sweet tea, no ice, no lemon. “Sure, why not.”

    
              “What about Zoey?”

    
              “I, I’m not sure. Could you just hold my order till she gets here? It’ll still be a few more minutes.”

    
              “Sure, sweetie, not a problem.” With what seemed like one swift movement, Mia slid the order pad back into her hip pocket, tucked the pencil back behind her ear in its hiding place under her curls, and scooped up some abandoned dishes from a nearby table. She disappeared behind the swinging door to the kitchen in a matter of seconds.

    
              I wanted to take this time alone to look through the book, still safely tucked away inside my backpack. I hoped for zero interruptions from the many well-known citizens who frequented Montey’s regularly. They would surely want to make small talk with me if I was discovered, and heaven forbid the possibility of them inquiring over my reading material. I couldn’t take that chance. Any one of them would probably have me committed if the subject matter, of the book stashed in my bag, were to be made known.

    
              I sat in the booth, slouched as low as my body would allow without getting too much of a crick in my neck, and turned so that my back would face the front half of the diner. Hoping to be inconspicuous, I carefully and quietly pulled the worn book from my bag, laid it in my lap hiding its golden title under the edge of the table, then opened the cover to reveal the first page.

Witch Families,

Bloodlines,

Descendants,

& Specialties

The words were written by hand in what appeared to be actual India Ink from centuries past, probably scrolled with a two-hundred year old fountain pen. I admired the beauty of the old-world handwriting for a brief moment, realizing that more of my mom’s love of old things existed in me than I’d known was there.

                   I looked up to take a quick glance around the large open space, still resembling a luncheonette straight out of the nineteen fifties or early sixties, to see if anyone had spotted me. No new customers had arrived, so I turned to the next page in the book.

-Contents-

Chapter One:

The Witching Tree

Chapter Two:

Known Magical Families & Their Descendants

Chapter Three:

Legends, Myths, & Fairy tales

Chapter Four:

-Powers-

Good Wizardry vs. The Dark Arts

Chapter Five:

Amulets, Talismans, & Pentacles

Chapter Six:

Spells & Hexes

Chapter Seven:

The Magical Realm & The Future Realm

I carefully turned the delicate and brittle, yellow parchment pages until I found the first page of
Chapter One: The Witching Tree.
I was curious as to what a
‘witching tree’
was, so I wanted to explore this chapter right away. I learned that a
‘witching tree’
was nothing more than a simple family tree, the only difference
appearing to be that this one was created for supposedly known Wizard families.

    
              The originators of this book dated back more than two hundred years, so it was fascinating. I browsed, eye-locked and amazed, through the handwritten names infused inside elaborately drawn leaves on an incredibly detailed sketch of a giant and ancient-looking, branchy tree.

    
              Names popped out, some more than others like: Sarah Brown (1774-1812),  Leopold Mather (1668-1692),  Bridget Putnam (1702-1721),  George Proctor (1648-1713), and so on. I noticed that this book had to have been created in the early seventeen hundreds at least, and carried on by being added to through the years and generations.

    
              The chart appeared to have started with four main families, then branched out into over a hundred direct descendants. There were also markings next to many of the names, and curiosity immediately struck me about what those markings meant.

    
              I lifted my head, once again, giving another quick look around the room to see if I’d continued to remain undiscovered. Still nothing. I hoped that I wouldn’t cause suspicion by sitting here slouched in the booth all alone. I thought it’d be safe to continue for a few more minutes, so I turned to the next chapter in the book. I was completely enthralled, focused, and wanting more.

    
              The second chapter gave written descriptions of the families, listing their names and known Wizard abilities. I noticed, only approximately half the names from the family tree were included in this section. I guessed the cause was, perhaps, that these were the Wizards that had been more influential, maybe more powerful, during their times.

    
              This section of book also contained incredibly faded handwritten side notes next to many names. I peered closely to read the notes, and winced as realization hit me. The side notes contained death information to coordinate with the corresponding names. Much of the deaths had been due to hangings or being burned at the stake. Those poor unfortunate souls must have met their demise during the times of the infamous Witch Trials.

    
              Influenced by that somber page, I thought back to Leo and what might have happened to him had he been unfortunate enough to have lived during that time. The thought broke my heart, and I turned the worn, brittle pages, leafing through the book attempting to find a less depressing chapter to peruse.

    
              I knew my remaining alone time was dwindling. Zoey should be arriving within a few short minutes.

    
              I scanned a couple pages that were mostly filled with old legends, depicting whether certain famous tales happened to be either true or false. Another page held some terrifying pictorials of dark witches and warlocks cursing innocent individuals for wronging them in some way, and I quickly turned the page to clear my mind from that chapter’s contents. I didn’t want to think about what Leo had said, that there were hundreds and possibly thousands of others out there in our present time, in this current world, that were also magical but so much unlike him --- that they were evil and dark --- and after me.

    
              I flipped more rapidly now, knowing I had only moments to scan a couple more pages, when I passed the sketch of a necklace. It was a rosary sort of chain in the ‘
Amulets, Talismans, & Pentacles’
chapter. I'd been flipping so quickly that I passed the picture, and I quickly flipped a couple pages back, searching for the familiar image that had just whizzed past my sight during my frantic searching of the book.

    
              There it was. I gasped. I sat back against the hard booth seat, shocked and breath-taken at the sketch lying on the yellowed and aged page before me. It was identical --- absolutely one and the same.

    
              My necklace, that at this very second hung from my neck, draping lazily across my chest and moving slightly with the increasing erratic pounding of my heart, was a perfect match to the sketch in the book. I felt the pounding in my chest become heavier as I drew my gaze ever closer to the image until I was only inches from the sketched necklace, studying it. I attempted to find any variation from my own, but they were exact.

    
              Was it really the same necklace, amulet, talisman --- whatever? An amulet of some kind, I thought. Maybe this explains why Leo asked me to protect the key at all costs and in return it would protect me, but then why would he have given me such a special and magical amulet that had been passed through his Wizard family for generations? It obviously held great importance, so I didn’t understand why Leo’s family would have entrusted it with me.

    
              I felt as if I almost wanted to rip it off from around my neck, terrified of the magical powers that it must hold, and how they might affect me. The thought was washed away almost as quickly as it came. It was a part of Leo, and I held it closer because of that fact. All the feelings swirling through my body and mind, at this very moment, were more than I was able to handle.

    
              I read on regardless, my curiosity leading the way as always. I couldn’t help myself. Overcome by curiosity and fear, I desperately tried to understand more.

    
              Did the necklace itself hold powers of its own? Did it pull from the powers of its owner? Had it been enchanted with some ancient spell, or heaven forbid a curse, placed on it by a distant ancestor of Leo’s? Was that also passed down through the generations along with the necklace? I continued to read, attempting to find answers to these questions swirling throughout every nook and cranny of my mind. If my necklace was included in this magical book, then there must have been a supernatural reason why. I read on till the moment I was shocked back into comprehension and reality by a light touch across my shoulder.

    
              I jumped. Without hesitation I slammed the book closed, giving little regard to its delicate pages and crumbling leather coating. I was not inconspicuous in the least. There was no time left to be discreet, and I stashed the book into my school bag without once looking up to see who’s hand was lying on my shoulder.

    
              It was Zoey. I knew it before my eyes ever caught sight of her. When the book was safely zipped in my backpack and out of sight, I peered up to acknowledge my visitor. She was looking down at me, arms folded over herself now, and wearing a suspiciously cheerful grin. Her eyes told me she had waited for this moment for a very long time. Ironically, that’s the same way I felt about meeting her.