The Art of Practicing Magic Alone

Two- A Moment of Nostalgia

It did not surprise me when Ellis did not talk to me for the rest of the school year. He existed on the same plane that my mother did, although for different reasons. In the hallways of our high school, he was the class clown, a crowd following him wherever he went and I could tell that he took pleasure in it. Sometimes in class I'd stare at him, watch as he used his slick smile to tease out the parts of girls that they so desperately tried to cover up. Ellis was good at making those around him feel special and wore his chameleon skin better than my mother ever could. I envied his ability to fool those around him, but always questioned whether or not I could ever be happy in his shoes.
Senior year came quicker than I could have ever anticipated. Goldie showed up to my house on the first day of school in her favorite polka dot rain boots and asked me to walk with her to the school. Her red curls were wet with rain and when she saw that I wasn't ready, she let out a long sigh and shook her head. I let her in through the screen door and watched as she struggled to wiggle out of the boots. "You really want to walk in this weather?" I said, looking out of the window. Rain gently pattered against the sidewalk outside.
"It's our last day," She pleaded, "it's ceremonious."
"I think that word implies that we've done it before and we haven't. And it isn't our last day, we have to go back tomorrow." I walked her into my room and started shuffling through my closet for a raincoat that didn't exist.
"Yeah but it's our last first day and that is monumentous. It's the beginning of the end," Goldie said dramatically, waving her hands around, "The last hoorah, the climax."
I narrowed my eyes at her, "You've got to be kidding me, right?"
"Not even a little bit."
I sighed, "You know how I feel about the rain. I'm actively against it on all levels. I don't even have a raincoat, Red." She flicked her eyes up at me and I smiled, knowing she hated the nickname.
"Well if you'd hurry up and get ready, we could walk down the street to my house and I'll give you one of mine."
I pictured myself in one of her bright ensembles and grimaced. Goldie must have noticed the look on my face because she said, "I know you prefer to look all brooding and mysterious in your little black skirts and all black shoes but it'd be good for you to spice it up. A pastel would change your life. Someday, you're going to let me dress you up and you'll feel so disappointed that you wasted so many years of your life looking like Wednesday Addams."
"Okay, okay. We'll walk, just no more talk of pastels. The word makes me sick."
"Pastel." She yelled. I clutched my chest. "Pastel." I collapsed onto the bed.
On our way out of the house, I grabbed the talisman off the mantel and clasped it around my neck. I liked the feeling of it against my skin and the idea that it had been worn on the necks of many Jones women. While Goldie struggled back into her rain boots, I stepped into the kitchen and held it in between my fingers, feeling it begin to warm. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of the rain outside, "no more," I whispered under my breath. Before I could hear the rain stop for myself, I heard Goldie cursing loudly. I hurried into the living room, "What's going on?"
"The rains stopped. You really are the luckiest bitch around, aren't you?" Goldie smirked. I slipped into my shoes and smiled as a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds.
The talisman allowed me more freedom than I had ever experienced with my magic. Though my mom had warned me against using my abilities at school, I saw no harm in making sure that the teacher forgot to assign the homework or that the Gadsby twins suddenly had sore throats that wouldn't permit them to talk. I enjoyed using magic in the public arena and used it to benefit me carefully. My mother warned against using magic to harm others or to change their feelings and I took heed of her advice in this aspect out of fear of the consequences. I also had no desire to tamper with the feelings of others as I'd take great offense in knowing someone had tampered with mine.
Goldie told me that I must be heavily favored by God in order to have such luck. I told her that getting out of tests that I didn't study for and guessing the right number the teacher had in mind for a prize, were not the kinds of luck that God bestowed upon you.
"If God really favored me," I'd say, "He'd have given me a dazzling personality and double d's. Lord knows that's what gets people far around here." And Goldie would laugh but look at me as though she could sense I was keeping a secret that she couldn't quite ask me about yet.
Even with all of its perks, magic was still something that I preferred to use in the comfort of the woods. I'd lay out on a wool blanket looking up at where the trees almost touched but didn't quite and let my fingers guide the branches back and forth, back and forth. It didn't bother me to be alone in these moments as it had bothered me to be alone before. It was not a place where you had to mold and shape yourself into someone or something you were not. The trees were just trees and demanded nothing from me. I was not the words that had long lingered in my person. Outcast was a word seared on your skin, crisp and hot. Unlike a real brand, the word never stopped burning, never became just a word. Loner was another one of those words that you didn't want on your tongue. It was foul and acrid on the mouth and yet it was the word that first came to mind when I thought of myself, thought of my mother. My mother was different than me though. The word loner was chosen by me and willingly accepted by others. Like Ellis, my mother did everything she could to rid herself of the word.
Jones women were the talk of the town no matter how much my mother tried to assimilate us. My mother participated in all of the charity bake sales at the school, donated lump sums of money to the church, and kept her house in immaculate conditions and yet, I knew they wouldn't accept her. As a child, I had watched the way the mothers of other children sneered at her and tossed the cupcakes she'd baked into the garbage bin. She might have been born there but she was no more apart of the community than those who passed through town. Sometimes the sight of her planting flowers or making another christmas basket for the neighbors brought me to tears but there was nothing I could do for her. I knew of no magic that could turn a town's opinion of someone into something positive and figured if such magic existed, my mother was already hunting it to the ends of the earth.
Occasionally I'd imagine that the people in town knew what we were, like they could sense the magic radiating off of our bodies. In my fantasy, they had formed a group unbeknownst to us where they would gather and document our witchy behavior. But my mother said that these were no more than fantasies: "Those people wouldn't know a witch, if I rode a broomstick into town square." But all the same she wanted to please them.
On one particular dimly lit evening, after having slipped into the forest like I had a thousand times, I placed my hand on the talisman around my neck and did something I had never tried before. Earlier, I had overheard two girls in my class talking about a sleepover in which they had closed their eyes and lifted a girl into the air by chanting the words, "Light as a feather, stiff as a board." I chuckled when I heard this because I knew there was no way two girls as flighty as them could have ever successfully done magic, but still, the idea permeated the back of my mind for the rest of the day. I laid out the blanket as I had before and stretched out, closing my eyes and repeating words that weren't as simple as what my classmates had chanted, but of the same essence. I chanted them until I could no longer feel the roots from the ground pressing into my spine and when I opened my eyes, I almost squealed in delight. I was floating in the air, high above my worries. There I hung, suspended in air, for an hour before running out of the woods to tell my mother.
When I got near the clearing, though, I saw Ellis waiting for me in the tree line. I came to a full stop about a foot in front of him. He looked at me the same way he had that day at the bus stop but this time, he opened his mouth to speak: "What were you doing in there, Jones?" I placed my hands on my knees and breathed heavily.
"I don't know if you recall, but we've covered this."
"Ah, yes, your infamous walks."
"Do you stalk all of our neighbors? Or is this something you reserve especially for me?"
He laughed at this and rubbed the side of his jaw with his hand, "You interest me, Jones. You're a very interesting girl."
I put a hand on my hip, "Okay, I'll bite. What's so interesting about me?"
"You don't care about what other people think." Wrong, I thought.
"So you've been following me into the woods because I'm different? Original. You've got a really keen sense of who I am." I walked past him, "Loner girl who is different than the others is literally the plot of every bad eighties rom-com." There was that word again, I closed my mouth before it could sting. He laughed a deep throaty laugh unlike the ones I had heard in the hallway at school.
I continued, "If you think I can save you from your destiny of a lifetime of conformity and faking emotions, you are sorely mistaken."
"Is that right?"
"It is. That sociopathic behavior is all you buddy."
"Good thing that is not the thing that I want from you." Ellis said closing the distance between us. He had small freckles on his nose that I hadn't noticed in all the time we'd known each other. His brown were focused on me intently.
"What is it that you want?"
"Dinner."
"Dinner?"
"Yes, dinner."
"Dinner it is."
I led him into the house through the backdoor, taking care to apologize for any messes like my mom had raised me to do. Ellis followed me through the winding doors and into my room where I kicked off my shoes and plopped down onto my bed. He entered the room slowly, looking at the walls with distinct curiosity. "Is it everything you imagined it to be?" I chuckled.
"Everything and more." He replied, still focused on taking in every aspect.
I looked it over myself. The olive colored walls, the origami swans that I'd spent a summer working on, the small stuffed chinchilla Goldie had given me as a christmas gift- all of the small parts of my world on display. Ellis ran a long finger over a painting of a sunrise I had found at a yard sale and turned to look at me, "It's really nice in here. My home is not nearly as nice as this."
I shrugged, "Well, it must be rough with just two guys. It's probably like a frat house in there."
"Not exactly." His eyes went dark for a second. I patted the bedding beside me. He sat down on the quilt that spread out like a flag on my bed. We sat in silence like we were accustomed to doing. I realized that it was my first time spending any real time with him and this made me unsure of what to say to him. After a moment he said, "I've been here before." I looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"As a child, I'd come here with my mom. I never saw your room though. It was always late nights or early mornings before you'd woke and the door was always closed. It's interesting to be in your room, it's like a piece of the puzzle is put back in place." He paused and then pointed at my tiny stuffed chinchilla, "What is that?"
"It was a gift," I laughed, "It's sentimental."
We both grew real quiet again and I thought of his mother, tried to conjure up some image of her that wasn't what her body looked like in that dark blue casket. Ellis's mother had always been very thin, her eyes bulging and cheekbones protruding out of bronzed skin. She had a long braid that went straight down her back. Ellis's hair was a mirror of his mothers, thick and dark and his voice held the same kindness.
"I remember when I was very young, your mother would bring over baskets of vegetables she'd grown in your backyard. She always managed to sneak me a few chocolates when my mother wasn't looking." The anecdotal story came from my lips before I knew what to do with it but the words were out there. Ellis took my hand and squeezed it. He looked at me with wide eyes.
"I'm sorry," I added.
"You didn't tell me we were having company." My mother appeared in the doorway, purse slung over her shoulder. She was wearing her work clothes, another long shift at the library done.
Ellis jumped up, "Ms. Jones, I'm afraid I invited myself over for dinner."
"Well, I extended the invite over a year ago but he just took me up on it." I interjected. My mother shot me a coy look.
"I'd better get started on dinner then. Are you okay with beef stew? It's been a bit chilly."
Ellis followed her out of the room, "Any homemade meal is amazing. I've actually been wanting to catch up with you. I have so many questions."
I laid back on my bed and pulled my phone from my skirt's front pocket. I had a missed call from Goldie, I pressed redial and put the phone to my ear. After three rings she picked up, "Ernessa Louise Jones!"
"That's not my middle name."
"Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you since school got out. I thought you were dead somewhere with a needle in your arm."
"I can't keep up with you. I went for a walk to clear my head and on the way back, I ran into Ellis."
"And you guys finally had the steamy scene in the woods I always dreamed of? Ernessa Louise!" She squealed.
"No, he's just over for dinner. But I have to go, I'll call you later and fill you in. I promise."
"You better."
In the dining room, Ellis sat at the chair closest to my mother and talked animatedly about subjects I'd never seen him broach in school. I tried to read his face for deception, tried to see if the chameleon was just shifting colors in order to please us but decided that for the night I would stop trying to read him as I had in school. I sat down beside him and listened to him and my mom talk as if they were old friends. When dinner was finished, she placed the large pot of stew down in front of us and remarked how great it was to have company for once.
"Well, besides Goldie." She said, "Although she's more like family now, I reckon." I thought of how happy Goldie would be to hear that and chuckled to myself.
"I've only seen her in passing." Ellis replied, gently blowing on a spoonful of soup.
"She's the only friend Ernessas ever brought over. I guess we can add you to that list now." My mother beamed.
Ellis flashed me a devious smile, "I guess we can."
"How's your father doing?" She asked suddenly. My eyes darted towards her and then to him. I took a long drink of my water and prayed that she could hide her disdain for one night.
"He's... himself. A bit stuck in his ways, I'm afraid but we try our best to get along."
"Is he still working at the bait shop?"
"Occasionally. He still has a bit of money saved from the insurance policy and I've been picking up shifts at the grocery store to supplement. Senior year is expensive."
"What a responsible young man," Her mouth curved up on one side, "Your mom would be very proud of you."
"I sure hope so. Although you'd know better than me. Friends always know more than children."
She laughed, "What do you want to know?"
"Everything. My father is stingy with details."
My mom leaned back in her seat and I could see that she her mind was racing, filling with stories to tell. "Mila, your mom, she had... a green thumb beyond what I could ever dream. All she had to do was think about vegetables and they'd sprout from the ground. She taught me everything I know about gardening and keeping a home." I glanced at Ellis who was soaking in everything she was saying with the same face I imagined I had when she told me stories as a child. It was my mother's strong suit and I didn't mind sharing her with him for a while.
She continued, "My own mother wasn't big on homemaking so I didn't grow up with the same education as some of my peers. As you may have heard, Jones women are a bit different than what you see around here but your mother didn't care. She moved into your father's house next door and when we both fell pregnant at the same time she'd bring over her pots and pans and show me different recipes."
"She was the best cook." Ellis said quietly.
"She was. I looked up to her in so many ways. Mila was a good friend, a good mom and I'm so sorry that she isn't here anymore. I really am." I looked at my mom whose eyes were glistening and wet.
"Two years feels like forever." He said and then half-heartedly added, "At least I have my father."
"Yes, and I'm glad he takes good care of you." Her eyes glanced over to his hand which was rife with old burn marks and tapped her nails against the table.
I realized then that my mom and I were chameleons as well, masquerading as unaware observers when we knew to some degree that things weren't alright. My mom and I had spent many nights crouched down in our living room, peering out of the window, listening to his father's drunken screams. She'd hold my hand when the screams got too loud or when we heard crashing against the walls and tell me that she wanted to set a good example for me.
"I know I've told you not to interfere with people's lives," She'd say, "But sometimes I wonder if it'd be for the better."
Dinner went by relatively quick after that, the conversation not straying too far into deep waters. Ellis looked at my mom with renewed appreciation and so did I. I suddenly felt very lucky to have someone like her as my sole parent. When he went to say goodbye to my mother, she hugged him very tight. "It was very nice seeing you. Please don't be a stranger."
Ellis and I went out through the back door and sat down on the edge of the porch. I was happy to have him over, despite everything and secretly chastised myself for enjoying his company the way that I did when his attendance had been so spotty in the past. Even so, I felt as though the evening was more for him. He needed our company more than I needed to feel genuine comradery.
"Thank you for dinner. It was the first home cooked meal I've had in a long while."
"Oh no, thank you. My mom lives for company. I'm sure she's planning the next dinner already."
He raised an eyebrow, "So, you want me to come over again?"
"I didn't say that, I said my mother was planning it."
He laughed and looked out into the woods. "Dinner isn't the only thing I came over here for, Jones." I turned and looked at him.
"What else?"
"First, I want to say that there isn't any obligation to say yes. I know that we barely know each other and that's largely my fault. I haven't been a good friend to you and you don't owe me anything." My eyes fell to my lap. I never considered that we were even friends but I didn't want to say that so instead, I said nothing. But he kept talking.
"I just don't know who else to come to with this. The kids at school would think it was so absurd. But, I know you're kind and as much as you and your mother pretend, I know you hear the fighting. I know you kept it to yourselves to be polite."
I played with the hole in my jeans. I guess my mother and I weren't as good of chameleons as I had initially thought. Although it was perfectly plausible that everyone in the neighborhood had heard the noise and we were the only ones who hadn't said anything about it.
"It's not really any of my business." I replied.
"You're the first person I thought to come to with this and that has to mean something."
"Ellis, what is it?"
"I think that my father murdered my mom and I need you to help me find proof."
"You're kidding." But he wasn't. He was serious. He was dead serious and I was in shock. The idea that his father was capable of murdering his mother wasn't the part that shocked me. I had seen enough bruises on Ellis to know that he was more than capable of hurting someone. What surprised me was the willingness in him to believe that I'd involve myself somehow, that I'd be capable of helping him with such a large task. "Have you thought about contacting the police?"
"I want evidence first. I want something to bring to them that they can't just toss aside."
"But didn't they do an official ruling on her death when she died?" It occured to me that I didn't know how she'd died. I'd had my assumptions but the people in town, including my mother were pretty vague.
"The official cause of death was suicide by pills but I know she wouldn't do that. I just know it."
"Ellis, that's a huge accusation. Have you thought this through?"
"I've thought about it every day for the past two years. I have to do something. I have to know for sure before I graduate and leave this place."
I nodded my head, "You know I'm not Nancy Drew, right?"
He stood up, "You're better. I trust you and I don't expect an answer right away. Just think about it."
"Okay. I will." I watched him walk through our yard and cross into his own. When he made it to his own porch, he waved at me and disappeared into his house. I took a long breath and reached for the talisman at my neck, the glow of my hand a small beacon in the night. I whispered under my breath a spell I had learned for healing old wounds, focusing on the burns that I'd seen on his hands. When I was finished, I went inside and called Goldie.