Book of Shadows

CHAPTER 7 Metamorphosis

I can't stop thinking about Practical Magick and the strange mixture of fear and familiarity I felt there. Why did the names of the esbats and festivals feel like deeply buried memories? I never gave much thought to the possibility of past lives, but now, who knows?

"Morgan! Mary K.!" my mom called from downstairs. "Eileen's here!"

I rolled off my bed, marked my place in the book, and put it on my desk next to Bar journal, trying to pull myself back to the regular world. I was blown away by what I had been reading—about Wicca's roots in pre-Christian Europe thousands and thousands of years ago.

My brain still felt glazed as I padded downstairs in my socks just as my dad came in the front door with bags of food from Kabob Palace, Widow's Vale's only Middle Eastern restaurant. The smell of falafel and hummus started bringing me back to my senses.

I went into the living room, where the rest of the group was already gathered.

"Hi, Aunt Eileen," I said, and hugged her hello.

"Hi, sweetie," she said. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Paula Steen."

Paula stood up as I turned toward her, a smile already on my face. The first impression I had was of animals, as if Paula were covered with animals. I stopped dead and blinked. I mean, I saw Paula: She was a bit taller than I am, with sandy hair down to her shoulders and wide, pale green eyes. But I also saw dogs and cats and birds and rabbits all around her. It was weird and scary, and I felt an instant of panic.

"Hi, Morgan," Paula said, her voice friendly. "Urn, are you okay?"

"I'm seeing animals," I said faintly, wondering if I should sit down and put my head between my knees.

Paula laughed. "I guess I can never quite get all the fur off," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm a vet," she explained, "and I just came from a Sunday clinic." She looked down at her skirt and jacket"! thought with enough masking tape, I might be presentable."

"Oh, you are!" I said, feeling stupid. "You look fine." I shook my head and blinked a couple of times, and all the weird afterimages were gone. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Maybe you're psychic," Paula suggested easily, as if she were suggesting that maybe I was a vegetarian or a Democrat.

"Or maybe she's just a weirdo," Mary K. said brightly, and I aimed a kick at her leg.

The doorbell rang, and I ran to get it.

"What's she like?" whispered Bree, stepping into the foyer.

"She's great I'm a freak," I whispered back as Bree hung her jacket on a peg.

"You can explain later," she said and followed me into the living room to meet Paula.

"Okay!" my mom announced a few minutes later. "Why don't you all come in and sit down? Food's ready."

Once we were seated and served, I thought back to what I had said. Why had I seen those images of animals? Why did I say anything?

In spite of my weirdness, dinner was great. I liked Paula right away. She was warm and funny and obviously crazy about Aunt Eileen. I was happy to have Bree there, talking to everyone and teasing Mary K. She felt like one of us, one of our family. Once she told me that she loves coming to our house for dinner because it feels like a real family. At her house it's usually just her and her dad. Or just her, eating alone.

As I was helping myself to more tabouli, I looked up and absently said, "Oh, Mom—it's Ms. Fiorello."

"What?" my mom asked, dipping her pita bread into some hummus. Just then the phone rang. Mom got up to answer it. She talked in the kitchen for a minute, then hung up and came to sit back down. She looked at me.

"It was Betty Fiorello," she said. "Had she told you she was going to call?"

I shook my head and applied myself to my tabouli.

Bree and Mary K. started humming the theme from The X-Files.

"She is psychic!" Aunt Eileen laughed. "Quick, who's going to win the play-offs for the World Series?"

I laughed self-consciously. "Sorry. Nothing's coming to me."

Dinner went on, and Mary K. teased me about my supernatural brain powers. A couple of times I felt my mother's eyes on me.

Maybe since I had been in the circle, since I had banished limitations, something inside me was opening up. I didn't know whether to feel glad or terrified. I wanted to talk to Bree about it, but she had to get home right after dinner.

"Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Rowlands," Bree said, putting on her jacket. "Thanks for dinner—it was great. Nice meeting you, Paula."

Later, after Aunt Eileen and Paula left, I went upstairs and did my calculus homework I called Bree, but she was watching a football game with her dad and said she'd talk to me the next day.

Around eleven I got a weird urge to call Cal and tell him what was going on with me. Luckily I realized how completely insane this was and let the urge pass. I fell asleep with my face against the pages of The Seven Great Clans.

"Welcome to Rowlands Airlines," I intoned on Monday morning as Mary K. slid into the car, trying to hold her cardboard tray level so the scrambled eggs didn't slide into her lap. "Please fasten your seat belts and keep your seat in its upright and locked position."

Mary K. giggled and took a bite of her sausage patty. "Looks like rain," she said, chewing.

"I hope it does rain so Mr. Herndon won't clean his stupid gutters," I said, steering with my knees so I could open a soda.

Mary K. paused, her eyes narrowed. "Urn, okaaay," she said in an exaggerated soothing tone. "I hope so, too." She continued chewing, giving me a sidelong glance. "Are we back to The X-Files again?"

I tried to laugh, but I was puzzled by my own words. The Herndons were an old couple who lived three houses down. I hardly ever thought about them.

"Maybe you're metamorphosing into a higher being," my sister suggested, opening a small carton of orange juice. She took a deep swig, then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Her straight, shiny, russet-colored hair swung in a perfect bell to her shoulders, and she looked pretty and feminine, like my mom.

"I'm already a superior being," I reminded her.

"I said higher, not superior," Mary K. said.

I took another drink and sighed, feeling my brain cells waking up. Another one of these and I would feel ready to face the day. Cal would be at school. Just the idea that I would see Cal soon, be able to talk to him, made me so pleasantly nervous that my hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Um, Morgan?" Mary K.'s voice was tentative.

"Yeah?"

"Call me old-fashioned, but it's traditional to stop for red lights."

I snapped to attention, leaning forward, tensed to brake. Looking back quickly, I saw that I had just breezed through the intersection of St Mary's and Dimson, right through a red light. At this hour of the morning there was always traffic. It was amazing we hadn't gotten into an accident—no one had even honked.

"Jeez, Mare, I'm sorry," I said, clutching the steering wheel. "I was daydreaming. Sorry. I'll be more careful."

"That would be good," she said calmly. She scooped up the last of her scrambled eggs and shoved the tray into my car's trash bag.

We managed to get to school without my killing us, and I found a great parking spot practically right outside the building. Mary K. was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of friends who ran over to greet her. Mary K. had arrived: The party could begin.

I saw Bree and Robbie hanging out not by the stoners, not by the nerds, not by the cool kids, but in a completely new area around the old cement benches that face each other across the brick path by the east-side door. Raven was there, Jenna and Matt, Beth, Ethan, Alessandra,Todd, Suzanne, Sharon, and Cal. Everyone who had done the circle Saturday night. My heart started a slow, dull pound.

Before I got there, Chris walked up and spoke to Bree. Frowning, she headed off with him, talking intently as they walked away.

"Hey, Morgan," said Tamara, walking up to me. I glanced over at Cal. He was talking to Ethan.

"Hi," I said. "How was your weekend?"

"Okay. I called you on Sunday, but I guess you were at church. How was the circle? What happened after I left?"

I grinned. "It was really neat," I said. "We just made a circle and went around the fire. We talked about things we wanted to get rid of."

"Like… pollution or what?" asked Tamara.

"Pollution!" I said. "That would have been a good one. I wish I'd thought of it. No, stuff like anger and fear. Ethan tried to banish his stepmother."

Tamara laughed, and Janice walked up and joined us.

"Hi," she said, pushing her glasses up on her delicate nose. "Listen, Tam, I have to go put a proof up on Dr. Gonzalez's board. Want to come?"

"Sure," said Tamara. "Coming, Morgan?"

"No, that's okay," I said. They walked off, and I headed over to the east-side benches.

"Hey, Morgan," Jenna said, sounding friendly.

"Hi," I said.

"We're talking about our next circle," Raven said. "That is, if you've recovered." Today Raven was wearing a boned maroon corset, a black skirt, black ankle boots, and a black velvet jacket Eye-catching.

I felt my cheeks heating up. "I'm recovered," I said, playing with the zipper of my hooded sweatshirt.

"It's not unusual for a sensitive person to have some kind of reaction to circles at first," said Cal in his low voice. The timbre of it fluttered in my chest"! did myself."

"Ooh, sensitive Morgan," said Todd.

"So when's our next circle?" asked Suzanne, flicking back her surfer-blond hair.

Cal looked at her evenly. "I'm afraid you're not invited to our next circle," he said.

Suzanne looked shocked. "What?" she said, forcing a laugh.

"No," Cal continued."Not you, nor Todd. Nor Alessandra."

The three of them stared at him, and I felt fiercely glad. I remembered how snide they had been on Saturday night. They were part of Bree's clique, and it was unthinkable that someone would stand up to them, would cut them out of something. I was enjoying it.

"What are you talking about?" Todd asked. "Didn't we do it right?" He sounded belligerent as if trying to cover up embarrassment.

"No," Cal said calmly. "You didn't do it right." He offered no other explanation, and we all stood there, waiting to see what would happen next.

"I don't believe this," said Alessandra.

"I know," Cal said. He sounded almost sympathetic.

Todd, Alessandra, and Suzanne looked at each other, at Cal, and at the rest of us. No one said anything or asked them to stay. It was very odd.

"Huh," said Todd. "I guess we know when we're not wanted. Come on, ladies." He offered his arms to Alessandra and Suzanne, and they had no choice but to take them. They looked humiliated and angry, but they had brought it on themselves.

Daringly, I gave Cal a look of thanks, and he kept his eyes locked on mine for several beats. I couldn't look away.

Suddenly Cal pushed himself off the bench he'd been leaning against and came to stand in front of me. "What do I have behind my back?" he asked.

My brow creased for a second, then I said, "An apple. Green and red." It was as if I had seen it in his hand.

He smiled, and his expressive, gold-colored eyes crinkled at the edges. He brought his hand from around his back and handed me a hard, greenish red apple, with a leaf still attached to its stem.

Feeling awkward and shy, aware of everyone's eyes on me, I took the apple and bit it, hoping juice wouldn't run down my chin.

"Good guess," Raven said, sounding irritated. It occurred to me that she was probably Jones for Cal big time.

"It wasn't a guess," Cal said softly, his eyes on me.

That afternoon when Mary K. and I got home, we found out that Mr. Herndon from down the street had fallen off a ladder while cleaning his gutters. He had broken his leg. Mary K. started calling me the Amazing Kreskin. I was so freaked out, I called Bree and asked if I could come over after dinner.