Ocean Magic (PJO x KC x HOO)

5. 'Shopping' For 'Essentials'

Once, when I was a little girl, I told my dad that I wanted to learn how to sew. Classic little girl dreams, right? Anyway, he bought me some string and a small, child-size sewing machine (who knew they had that size?) and enrolled me in a beginner's sewing class. I was surrounded by so many old ladies, but it wasn't like I was scared. No, I knew these older ladies would take care of me and make sure I knew what I was doing when I messed up.

So, why did I quit sewing?

My first thought was that I'm a quitter. I like to quit things, things that I don't deem worthy enough to fulfill my time. I quit the things that didn't interest me or if they were too hard for me to complete. Plus, threading the string through the top of the little needle made me so angry that I couldn't focus on the actual sewing part. But as I grew older, I realized that sewing just wasn't for me. Instead, knitting was. 

I got my first set of knitting needles back in Canada before we moved away for good. Even though I couldn't sit still for long periods on end, there was something about knitting that calmed my nerves and made everything fade into the background. Knitting was almost like magic; I moved the knitting needles back and forth, and in return, a creation was made. I thought it wasn't magic, but in a sense, it was. 

I just didn't know I was going to get my first taste of real-life knitting magic when we stopped to get some essentials for our very long and very boring trip. 

〰✦〰

The car traveled down the highway, speeding toward our destination somewhere in New York. I wasn't sure if we left Florida yet or not, but the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky, casting warm shadows on me and the nearly dead body in the back seat. I peered over at the boy lying beside me, Pepe's soft song keeping him alive. 

His brown skin was still pale, and sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn't look scared anymore. I shifted beneath his legs, trying not to move his body too much so that the blood would stay below the skin. Lifting his gray sweatshirt, I sighed when I saw that the wound looked much better. Maybe it was my pressure on the hole, or Ama's magic, but the blood had stopped flowing. 

That was all me, you know.

I said that you did help me, Ama.

Did I tell you to stop calling me that? I distinctly remember telling you to stop calling me that.

Sorry, old habits die hard. Thank you, Amathaunta, for helping me staunch the blood flow.

Oh, you're welcome, my dear Ariel Murphy. 

I snorted, rolling my eyes. Through the rearview mirror, Pepe met my eyes, pausing his song for a moment. "How's he doing back there?" he asked, his voice soft in the otherwise silent car -- well, besides the sound of the stifling hot blowers. "Because this ritual is nearly over. I really need the herbs to complete it, but so far, I've been holding his life in my song."

Looking back at the kid, I shook my head. "He still looks bad, but the bleeding has stopped."

For now. 

What does that mean? 

Just watch out for him. He's close to death. 

No duh. 

Ama gave me a mean look, her dark eyebrows furrowed on her face. She turned her head so I couldn't see her, which was alright with me. Sometimes, this Egyptian goddess annoyed me to death, and she just started inhabiting my body. I wasn't sure how I was going to live with her living in my head, if I even had to have her inhabiting me for the rest of my life. That question interested me, but I didn't dare ask her about it. She was pouting, and it was best to leave her alone.