Omens

Matagot

The old woman scowled up at the sky. The raven was long gone. Were there more? There’d better not be. She would tell the others, though. They should know there had been a raven in Cainsville.

She walked over to where the cat was hiding. It was still there, staring balefully.

“Leaping at ravens, matagot?” she murmured. “Trying to protect the girl? Or merely getting her attention?”

The cat only lifted a black paw and began cleaning itself.

The old woman straightened. The Larsen girl had scared the bird off nicely. The others should know about that, too. They were worried about the girl. It was difficult for some, having a Bowen in town again. It had been so many years, and things had gone so badly the last time. Yet most of the elders, like Veronica herself, were excited, too. The girl gave them another chance.

Born outside Cainsville, her mother had been lost from the start. Usually the children did not stray far enough to warrant attention. With Pamela Bowen however … They had all underestimated the danger. The chance she’d get to know Todd Larsen. That would not happen again.

Veronica went to the child and helped her mother comfort and reassure her until she stopped crying. A terrible thing for a child to see. That shouldn’t happen in Cainsville.

When mother and child left, the old woman returned to her painting. Before taking the first stroke, she glanced up at the sky. After a look around, she took a plump cloth bag from her pocket, untied it, and shook a little extra powder into the paint. Then she swirled it in and resumed her work.