Beautiful Creatures (#1)

·•9.02-A Hole in the Sky

Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, string beans, and biscuits-all sitting angry and cold and congealed on the stove where Amma had left them. Usually, she kept my dinner warm for me until I got home from practice, but not today. I was in a lot of trouble. Amma was furious, sitting at the table eating Red Hots, and scratching away at the New York Times crossword. My dad secretly subscribed to the Sunday edition, because the ones in The Stars and Stripes had too many spelling mistakes, and the ones in Reader's Digest were too short. I don't know how he got past Carlton Eaton, who would've made sure the whole town knew we were too good for The Stars and Stripes, but there was nothing my dad wouldn't do for Amma.

She said the plate in my direction, looking at me without looking at me. I shoveled cold mashed potatoes and chicken into my mouth. There was nothing Amma hated like food left on your plate. I tried to keep my distance from the point of her special black # 2 pencil, used only for her crosswords, kept so sharp it could actually draw blood. Tonight it might.

I listened to the steady patter of rain on the roof. There wasn't another sound in the room. Amma rapped her pencil on the table.

"Nine letters. Confinement or pain exacted for wrongdoin'." She shot me another look. I shoveled a spoonful of potatoes into my mouth. I knew what was coming. Nine across.

"C. A. S. T. I. G. A. T. E. As in, punish. As in, if you can't get yourself to school on time, you won't be leavin' this house."

I wondered who had called her to tell her I was late, or more likely who hadn't called. She sharpened her pencil, even through it was already sharp, grinding it into her old automatic sharpener on the counter. She was still pointedly Not Looking at me, which was even worse than staring at me right in the eye.

I walked over to where she was grinding and put my arm around her, giving her a good squeeze. "Come on, Amma. Don't be mad. It was pouring this morning. You wouldn't want us speeding in the rain, would you?"

She raised an eyebrow, but her expression softened. "Well, it looks like it'll be rainin' from now until the day after you cut that hair, so you better figure out a way to get yourself to school before that bell rings."

"Yes, ma'am." I have her one last squeeze and went back to my cold potatoes. "You'll never believe what happened today. We got a new girl in our class." I don't know why I said it. I guess it was still on my mind.

"You think I don't know about Lena Duchannes?" I choked on my biscuit. Lena Duchannes. Pronounced, in the South, to rhyme with rain. The way Amma rolled it out, you would have thought the word had an extra syllable. Du-kay-yane.

"Is that her name? Lena?"

Amma pushed a glass of chocolate milk in my direction. "Yes and no and it's none a your business. You shouldn't be messin' with things you don't know anything about, Ethan Wate."

Amma always spoke in riddles, and she never gave you anything more than that. I hadn't been to her house in Wader's Creek since I was a kid, but I knew most of the people in town had. Amma was the most respected tarot card reader within a hundred miles of Gatlin, just like her mother before her and her grandmother before her. Six generations of card readers. Gatlin was full of God-fearing Baptists, Methodists, and Pentecostals, but they couldn't resist the lure of the cards, the possibility of changing the course of their own destiny. Because that's what they believed a powerful reader could do. And Amma was nothing if not a force to be reckoned with.

Sometimes I'd find one of her homemade charms in my sick drawer or hanging above the door of my father's study. I had only asked what they were for once. My dad teased Amma whenever he found one, but I noticed that he never took any of them down. "Better safe than sorry." I guess he meant safe from Amma, who could make you plenty sorry.