Fatal Charm Page 8
“Smith.” I repeated the word, hope stirring. “That could be the one—if the town is over 150 years old. Can you find out?”
“Have I ever let you down?” I started to answer, but Manny wisely held up his hand and stopped me from replying. Then, with a grin, he shooed me away and promised to let me know what he found out later.
I put all this out of my mind while I slipped back into the grooves of familiar school routines. But I couldn’t pay attention in my classes. Not because I disliked my teachers or learning. But because during those weeks I’d lived with my family in San Jose, I’d done independent study—which jumped me ahead in all my assignments. In English Lit I’d already read the book and written the report. In science, I’d aced the quiz. In history, I knew who won the war and in what year. Only gym wasn’t old news—but then who could study ahead for a volleyball game?
Sitting through boring classes left too much thinking time. I worried about Nona’s illness, wondered if Velvet would get enough insurance money to reopen Trick or Treats, stressed over the whole Josh versus Dominic dilemma, and tried to figure out how and why my weird astral trip had sent me to Jade.
By lunch, I was eager to chill with my friends and catch up on the latest news. But after getting whacked on the head with a volleyball, I detoured to fix my hair in the only non-smoky/mostly clean girls’ bathroom on the other end of campus.
It only took a few minutes to brush and twist my hair into a braid. I was just wrapping it with a hair tie when I heard my name called and the door burst open.
“Manny!” I exclaimed.
“Hey, Sabine.” He leaned one arm against the door, grinning.
“Get out! Girls only, no guys allowed.” I glanced around anxiously to see if the stalls were occupied and saw only one closed stall. White sneakers with pink laces shifted under the door.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
I pointed to the occupied stall. “I repeat—you’re not allowed in here.”
“Sure about that?”
“Positive.”
Manny tossed me a challenging look, then swaggered over with cocky confidence to the closed stall. He rapped on the door. “Hey in there, can I ask a question?”
“Sure,” came a muffled reply.
“Are you okay with my being here? I wouldn’t have done it if this weren’t important.”
“Is that you, Manny?” a girlish voice asked.
“The one and only.”
“Cool! I’m a huge fan of your Mystic Manny column. How do you come up with such amazing predictions?”
“It’s a gift,” he bragged, ducking as I reached out to swat him.
“And your editorial really made me think. I never knew my choice of ring tone could influence my entire life.”
“Brilliant, wasn’t it?” He grinned. “Well, go on with your … er … business.”
“No rush,” she called out.
“See. My being here is perfectly okay, Sabine. But we’re leaving anyway.” Manny grabbed my wrist. “Come on. We have to talk.”
“Right now?” I asked as I tucked my brush into my backpack.
“Only if you want to hear what I found out.” His black eyes sparkled. “About Nevada.”
“Are you serious? You found the location?”
“Did you ever doubt me?”
“Always. But I love surprises. How did you do it?”
“Magic keyboard fingers,” he joked, waving his hands. “Turns out there used to be a town called Horseshoe, only its name was changed. Want to hear more?”
I definitely did, but not in a public restroom. So I slipped on my backpack and followed Manny. As we swung the door out, a girl I recognized from my calc class was coming in. She gave Manny such a surprised look, double-checking the “Girls” on the door, then back to Manny with confusion.
Manny and I burst out laughing.
Then I made him tell me everything.
*
That evening, Dominic, Nona, and I faced each other across the dining room table. There was hot raspberry sage tea, crackers and cheese, plus some shortbread cookies spread out before us. A fire spread out warmth from the nearby living room, and anyone looking in would have thought we were models for a quaint Norman Rockwell painting.
But there was nothing cozy about our purpose.
“Nona,” I said in a solemn tone. “Dominic and I have something to tell you about the charms.”
A blank look crossed her face, and she reached inside her pocket.
“You don’t need your notes,” I said, stopping her before she could pull out the papers. “I’ll remind you.”
“I don’t need reminding about my own life,” she snapped. “You think I could forget the charms that my great-great-grandmother left as clues to the remedy? There’s nothing wrong with my memory. I’m the one who told you about the charms and showed you the one shaped like a house.”
“A cat,” I corrected. “That was the first charm. The house was the second charm and I found it.”
“I knew that. Don’t treat me like a child.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s natural to forget small details. But I haven’t lost all my marbles yet. I still remember the important things.” She smiled at us, sipping her tea and nodding as if everything was fine—but the light in her eyes was dim. She was only partly there.
“You’re doing great, Nona,” I said calmly, although I felt like crying. Someone had to take the adult role, and without volunteering the job had quietly passed to me. I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Her skin was sun-spotted and leathery from a life spent outdoors. Her fingers seemed smaller than I remembered.
“So what did you want to tell me?” she asked.
“Dominic found the last charm.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Dominic showed her the tiny silver horseshoe.
“Manny just told me today he found out there used to be a town called Horseshoe in Nevada, only now it’s called Shrub Flats. The remedy has to be there.”
“We’ll find it,” Dominic added with a protective glance at Nona. I knew he couldn’t love her more if she’d been his own grandmother.
“We’re leaving in the morning, so I’ll miss school,” I told my grandmother. “I’ll need you to write an excuse.”
Nona pursed her lips and shook her head. “No. That’s not acceptable.”
“Why not? Your health is more important than school. Besides, I’m ahead in all my assignments—I won’t miss anything.”
“Except our holiday celebration,” Nona sat her cup down so hard it rattled.
“What holiday?” I demanded,
“Sabine, you must be kidding. And they say I have problems with my memory, but you don’t see me forgetting a major holiday.” She chuckled. “With company coming, I’ll need your help getting ready. There are so many preparations: peeling potatoes, baking pies, preparing the turkey—”
“Turkey?” I felt sick and shared an uneasy look with Dominic. “But Nona … Thanksgiving isn’t until next week.”
“Next week? I was sure when I looked at the calendar … ” Her voice faded and she seemed to shrink in her chair as if aging years in a few seconds.
“It’s a mistake anyone could make,” Dominic said with forced cheerfulness. “I’ve never had a real family Thanksgiving. By next week we’ll have found the remedy and we’ll have lots to celebrate.”
Nona managed a faint smile. “I’m counting on it.”
“We won’t let you down.” I clasped her small, withered fingers. “I promise.”
Then Dominic and I made plans to leave in the morning.
On a road trip that meant life or death to Nona.
It was early morning, chilly with an overcast sky that loomed ominous in the east. Rain wasn’t predicted, but weather had a mind of its own, so I brought a hooded jacket, gloves, and an umbrella. Where we were going, over the Sierra Mountain pass, rain could quickly chill into heavy snow.
I reached across my lap to fasten my seat belt and my elbow brushed Dominic’s leg. A jolt like a stun gun blasted through me. I jerked my arm back, heat rushing to my face. Abruptly, I turned to the window and faked an extreme interest in scenery.
What was wrong with me anyway? Getting all weird over being near Dominic? We’d spent lots of time together before, so why was now any different? It wasn’t like he’d made a move on me or there was anything sexual about an elbow touch. This was all about me overreacting. He probably hadn’t even noticed or cared … not that I cared if he cared or wanted him to notice because that would be totally wrong.
Damn, I was seriously losing it.
If I didn’t get a grip on my emotions, this trip would be a disaster.
I put on a casual face like everything was normal. I was too aware of Dominic, longing for more than a brief elbow touch. I wanted … well, things that just couldn’t happen.
Admit it, Sabine, I told myself. You’re hot for Dominic and denying the attraction won’t make it go away—only confuse truth with lies.
I wanted to get closer to him, yet wanted to get far away from him. I wanted to touch him, but couldn’t risk where that would lead. I wanted to talk to him about everything, except I feared words could tumble into an avalanche I couldn’t handle. I was keenly aware of his strong, calloused hands, one poised on the wheel and the other casually resting inches from me. His jeans were frayed at one knee and he was missing a button on the leather jacket he wore over a blue cotton shirt. I noticed a tiny feather in his wavy brown hair, probably from Dagger, and resisted the urge to pull it out.
I’d be resisting a lot of urges today.
“Do you have a map?” I asked after long, silent minutes. My forced casual tone gave no hint of my inner drama.
“Map?” He looked startled, as if he’d been lost in deep thoughts.
“So I can navigate while you drive.”
“In the glove box, but don’t bother.”
“Why not?”
“Shrub Flats is so small it’s not mapped.”
“Then how do we get there?”
“I got it covered.”
I waited for him to explain. But he slipped into his annoying habit of clamming up and focusing on the road, not on his passenger. What was he thinking about or who he was thinking about? Not me of course …
“Do you think it will snow? The mountains are so beautiful, but the sky has turned to such a dark gray. It’ll be hard to find Horseshoe in a snowstorm.” Okay, I was babbling without giving him a chance to answer, which happened when I got nervous.
“Snow would be cool,” was all he said.
“Not if it storms while we’re on the road.”
“My four-wheel drive can get through anything.”
“Then yeah, snow would be cool. My family stays at a cabin in Tahoe every winter and we have a great time sledding and skiing. Do you know anyone in Shrub Flats? How will we find where the remedy book is hidden?” Babble, babble, babble. God, I was pathetic.
“The charms should help.”
“Once we figure out the fish, cat, and house. Maybe there’s a statue of a fisherman holding a cat or a house shaped like the charm. Do you have any theories?”
“A few.”
“Like what?”
“The house could be where Agnes lived.”
“That charm isn’t shaped like a normal house. It has weird angles; rectangular with a steep pointy roof and round windows. Maybe it’s a church.”
“Or a hotel,” he guessed.
“Would a small town have a hotel?”
“Maybe a boarding house—unless it burned down in the Pig Fire.” He flicked his turning signal and passed a large semitruck.
“Pig Fire?”
“I read about it in a history book.” Dominic had a quiet passion for reading and often went to the library; it was one of the things I admired about him.
“Nevada was rich in silver mines,” he explained. “Towns would sprout up overnight but then vanish when the silver strike ran out. Horseshoe had a lucky streak until 1913, when a huge sow broke out of her pen and knocked a lantern into hay. The fire took out half the town, leaving only stones and shrubs. Horseshoe became Shrub Flats.”
“What if the fire destroyed the remedy book? Nona won’t ever get any better … only worse … until she slips into a coma and never … ” My voice cracked. “Never wakes up.”
Dominic pursed his lips determinedly. “We will find the remedy.”
As he said this, my head went all dizzy and I had a flash of my great-great-great-grandmother Agnes kneeling outside in the dark of night beside a sturdy metal box, digging into rough ground with a small shovel. That’s all I saw, but it was enough to offer hope.
“You’re right.” I felt in my pocket for the small satin bag which contained the charms, letting my fingers glide over one. “The remedy is out there—we just have to decipher the charm clues. The fish could mean a fishing pond.”
“Or someone named Fish.”
“What about the house and cat?”
“House cat or cat house?” Dominic winked. “As in Nevada’s oldest profession.”
I knew he didn’t mean gambling. “No way! Not Agnes.”
“Desperate people will do anything when they’re desperate.”
“My great-great-great-grandmother would never sink that low. She was a devoted, respectable mother.”
“And accused of poisoning her neighbor.”
“She never poisoned anyone—her herbal medicines cured people. She was treated crappy by neighbors and forced to leave her little girls. By the time her girls received the charms, it was too late and they were split up into different homes.” I’d had visions of Agnes and her daughters, and ached with an overwhelming sadness for them. Losing people you loved was so hard. And I thought of Nona.
Dominic seemed to guess what I was feeling. “Don’t worry,” he said gently. “We’ll figure out the charms.”
“Over a hundred and fifty years later?”
“You never know.”
That was the problem, I thought with frustration. There were too many things I didn’t know. Everything hinged on possibilities and hopes, elusive non-tangibles. We were following a tiny clue of silver to another state on the slim chance of finding an old book that may not still exist.
Impossible.
Yet impossible things were normal when you saw ghosts, chatted with spirits, and had prophetic visions. Ironically, this was not the kind of “normal” life I’d hoped for when I’d started a new school this year. I’d strived to create a new and improved Sabine—and on the surface, I’d succeeded. But sometimes I felt confused about my own identity. Despite my cool boyfriend and popular girlfriends, I was still a freak … and maybe that was okay. I’d rather be unique than a clone of everyone else. Sure, my inner freak got me into trouble sometimes, but my abilities helped people—which made me feel good. And I realized that I liked myself.
I wondered if Dominic liked … more than liked me.
Of course, I’d never ask. Why did my thoughts keep coming back to Dominic? I should be thinking about Josh. A loyal girlfriend wouldn’t go on a road trip with a guy she lusted after. Although it wasn’t like we planned to stay the night together. We’d only be gone for five or six hours that did not involve anything romantic. And I’d been upfront with Josh, explaining that I would be gone today because of Nona’s illness. Okay, maybe I left out a few details … like who I was traveling with.
Did that make me terrible?
Don’t answer that, I told myself.
As we climbed higher into the hills, the temperature dropped. Dominic cranked up the heater. Outside, pine trees shivered from chilly winds, but inside, close to Dominic, I was warm. At the 8,000-foot elevation mark, snow piled along the steep, rocky hillsides and the traffic slowed, flashing red brake lights as we neared ski resorts. Lots of cars had ski racks a
nd I imagined how much more fun this trip would be if we were going skiing. My family used to go skiing.
But that was before Jade threatened our family. I sighed, thinking of laughter and snow fights and warming our hands around a fireplace. Dad didn’t act like he wanted a divorce, yet he was hardly ever home and now I knew where he spent all that time away from us: with his other family, Jade and Crystal.
Was Dad willing to work to save his marriage? Or would he rather be with Crystal, who was as relaxed as my own mother was uptight? When he was home, he and Mom argued a lot. Not a good sign. How much longer would my parents stay together? A secret daughter wasn’t something Dad could hide forever, and when Mom found out … it was too horrible to imagine. There would be shouting and ultimatums. War would erupt and everyone would lose—except Jade.
My parents’ problems weren’t Jade’s fault, but she was undeniable proof that Dad wasn’t perfect. If Mom found out about her, my parents’ marriage was over. I had to make sure she stayed away from my family.
Dominic frowned at me. “Did I do something to piss you off?”
I shook my head. Traffic was moving again, although slowly as we curved around a spectacularly sharp drop. Far below, a beautiful emerald-blue lake shimmered with reflections of the frosty white-tipped mountains.
“Worrying about Nona?” he guessed.
“Yeah.”
Dominic’s expression softened. “Me, too.”
“I appreciate all you’ve been doing for her.”
“It’s my job.”
“You’ve gone far beyond your job description.”
“I care about Nona, and I care about—” He shot me a sideways look.
“What?” I held my breath.
“Sure you want to know?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
Red lights flashed ahead and the truck slowed to a crawl. Dominic hesitated, studying my face as if searching for something.
“You,” he finally said. “I care about you.”
Fast breath, dizzy head, soaring heart. I couldn’t think—only feel an insane rush of joy. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t betray Josh like this. No matter how much I wanted to. That meant hurting Dominic instead … and myself.