American Bruja: The Los Angeles Cauldron

Chapter 32. Aislinn McBride

Journal entry from Tuesday, August 9, 2011

6:00 p.m. at Peppergate Ranch

I pace along the brick pathway sheltered by Peppergate Ranch's overhanging eaves. My skin's tingly as I wait for the temperature to drop below 100 degrees. Although Amber remembers the drive to the trailhead, she doesn't recall how to hike to the place called 'the Grotto.' So, she texted the teenagers who helped us with the protection spell at Peppergate Ranch. Thankfully, they agreed to guide us.

At the center of the courtyard, Kibbles sprawls underneath the Japanese Maple tree. The shadows cast by its trunk and crown lengthen and extend across the grass. Confident the oppressive heat is waning; I bang on the guestroom door to rouse Rose from her nap. Kibbles raises his head at the sound. His brown eyes meet mine and he rises to shake the leaves and dust from his fluffy body.

Behind me, another door creaks open. I turn and Amber steps outside her bedroom. She's wearing a purple t-shirt that matches her purple backpack, jean shorts, and Nike trail runners. As she turns to close her door, a grumbling Rose opens the guestroom door. I pivot to my sister - I mean - my mother. In the doorway, her fingers labor over her cell phone as she texts Christopher. Our cover story is we're taking Amber school clothes shopping, then out to dinner. Hope he falls for the ruse.

Amber crosses the courtyard toward us. Kibbles intercepts her as she reaches the overhand. Crouching, she hugs him and kisses his fuzzy head. "I'm sorry you can't come with us."

As Amber rises to stand, I stoop to scratch behind Kibbles's ears.

He follows as we walk to the double doors leading to the driveway. Amber is the last to exit and again apologizes for leaving him behind. I turn back toward the house as she's shutting the double doors. When they close, Kibbles lets out a pitiful whine.

We tumble into the rented Mini Cooper. As I slide into the front passenger seat, my leggings stick to the hot vinyl. Rose turns the AC on full blast and steamy air fills the car. In the back behind the driver's seat, Amber pushes the button to lower her window.

Rose turns the car around and I lower my window as well. As she eases the Mini Cooper down the long, winding driveway, I look out the passenger window at the vast reservoir. The hill where I saw Conlan stands out from the others with its boulder-rimmed crown.

When the car rounds a bend lined with mature oaks, the mysterious hill disappears. A rustic iron gate blocks our way when we reach the bottom of the driveway. Rose retrieves a grey garage door opener and depresses the button. Nothing happens, so she opens her window and tries again. With creaking and rattling, the iron gate retracts.

Near the driveway's entrance on the road sits Christopher's green Jeep Cherokee. He waves, then pulls alongside us as his window rolls down. "Thanks for taking Amber shopping for school clothes." His lips turn downward as he looks at Amber. "Kiddo, I'm sorry I haven't had time."

Sweat pools on my chest as I turn in my seat to see if Amber can play it cool.

She lowers her head. "It's okay, Dad."

Christopher looks at Amber, then his eyes move to Rose. His face is unreadable. "Have fun."

I'm frozen, afraid to say or do anything that might tip him off. Rose nods, then turns right onto the two-lane road.

My fingers and toes tap as we pass a blue sign whose white letters read "Welcome to Lake Manor." Tiny cottages flank the road. To the north is a white clapboard church, the source of the tolling bell I heard earlier. As we pass beneath an oak arbor, my hands drip with sweat. Twisting my fingers, I snap, "Can't you go any faster?"