Light as a Feather, Cold as Marble

Chapter 19

Mischa fell a few steps behind us and when Henry and I turned, we saw her still lingering on the sidewalk in front of the ashram as if having second thoughts about leaving.

"Mischa, come on," I said.

"Guys? What if—I mean, would it be crazy if I stayed here? Do you think they'd even let me?" she asked.

"You're only sixteen," I reminded Mischa. "You'd at least have to ask for your parents' permission." The Portnoys were kind of control freaks, and I could hardly imagine they'd entertain the idea of their precious youngest daughter moving into an ashram on the North Side of Chicago to live with an old man who didn't even wear pants. After all, they were the kind of parents who had forced both Mischa and Amanda into enduring gymnastics practice almost every single day for the last ten years of their lives up until all of the trouble with Violet had started, when they'd finally eased up on Mischa a little. Adam Portnoy, Mischa's dad, was always on local television commercials for his car dealerships. Even though when we were little kids everyone used to good-naturedly tease Mischa about her dad's slogan, "come on down to Portnoy Ford and fall in love with four wheels," everyone in town knew that Mr. Portnoy took his public image very seriously.  But I kind of had to admit, staying at the ashram where it felt safe seemed like a good idea for her. We had no better plan to protect our friend from Violet's prediction.

Mischa's face fell. "Yeah, you're right. But maybe..." she dropped the idea and we continued walking to the parking garage.

"So, what was that like, when Bachitar was giving you that guided vision?" Henry asked us as we turned the corner.

"Did we look totally weird when we were sitting on the floor?" Mischa asked.

"Kind of," Henry teased. "Nah, you just looked like you were sitting there with your eyes closed."

"It was pretty amazing," Mischa said enthusiastically. "I just saw all these clouds, and heard this weird music playing. Like harps and a choir. It was so real, I thought maybe someone had turned on a radio in another room, but then when Bachitar ended the vision, I realized it was all in my head. Isn't that crazy? I'm still not sure if my brain made up all that music, or if I was hearing it from, like, another dimension or something."

So far, it sounded like Mischa's vision had been nothing like my own. "Did anything happen in yours?" I dared to ask. "Like, action?"

Mischa shrugged. "No. It was just, like, this very restful, peaceful scenario. I want to try it again at home. Why? Did you see stuff in yours?"

"No, no," I said quickly, vowing to hold off on sharing my vision with Henry until after we dropped Mischa off at the Portnoys' house later that afternoon. It sounded to me like Mischa's vision had been a glimpse of heaven, which freaked me out far more than I wanted her to know. "What was he saying to us while he was guiding the vision? After the part about the spinning blue orb, I kind of tuned out," I said, genuinely curious what Henry had heard the old man say that had resulted in such two very different experiences between me and Mischa.

"A whole bunch of stuff about finding a door in the blue orb, passing through it, finding your own special secret world there, exploring it... a whole bunch of new age-y stuff," Henry said. "Hold on, guys." He stopped in front of the storefront we were passing. "Check this out."

We were standing right in front of a small business with the words, THE OCCULT BOOKSHOP in its front window. I didn't know how we could have passed that without noticing it on our way to the ashram earlier that morning, although it was possible that a metal security gate had been covering the window the first time we'd walked by. On display in the window was an arrangement of a very commercial-looking hardcover book of spells entitled, "Everyday Witchcraft." A hand-lettered poster was also hung in the window, advertising a New Year's sale—25% off all herbs and candles.