Page 83 of Bewicched

Gaze resting once again on the elephant, I decided to start there. Crossing to the bed, I sat and gave myself a moment to breathe. Slowly, I slipped off the gloves and placed them on the table beside me. Taking a deep breath, I blew it out and then picked up the elephant. No immediate jolt.Fuck.

Glancing over my shoulder at Declan, who stood at the door with the others, I shook my head. He strode out of view and I tried again, digging deep. Still nothing. Stomach jittering, I moved one hand to her pillowcase while the other held tight to the elephant.

Spits and sputters, flashes. A birthday cake. Presents. Crying. Crayons. A coloring book. Balloon animals. Face paint.

It was clearly a birthday party, but I couldn’t see enough of any flash to know why it was important. Suddenly something cold and wet touched me. My eyes flew open to see Declan, leaning over me, holding something to my forehead and the back of my neck.

“Wha—”

“It’s not salt water,” he said, “but it’s from the stream out back. It’s fresh water.” He nodded encouragingly. “Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes again, hands on pillow and elephant. Water trickled down the back of my sweater and the sides of my face, and I felt better, more myself. Lifting my hands to my cheeks, I touched the water and then the pillow and elephant again.

I was falling backward in slow motion, plummeting into a vast nothingness. Dim lights like lightning bugs zipped around me. I’d been falling so long, I stopped worrying about hitting bottom. I was in a bottomless freefall as pinpoints of light bobbed around me.

One in particular, a persistent little bugger, hovered at the end of my nose. When I swatted at it, it disappeared. A moment later, it was back. I tried again, intent to catch it, and I did. I held the fluttering light tight in my fist and then I was standing outside in the creek.

I was barefoot, the water to my shins. Extraordinary. I glanced around, something deep in the woods calling to me. A laugh broke the silence and then noise rushed back in, disorienting me. No longer falling in a soundless void, I was dropped into the middle of a five-year-old’s birthday party.

Music blared from a speaker. A man was barbecuing ribs, chicken, and ears of corn. A table nearby was laden with a feast: tamales, enchiladas, beans and rice, guacamole, salsa, a pot of pozole, and a pink and white birthday cake with a unicorn on top.

The adults were trying to gather the children to sit and eat. A woman in a pirate costume made balloon animals for the children while another painted faces. The birthday girl, in a dress of pink frills, came running, out of breath, having eluded the three children chasing her.

She had a face filled with flowers and vines, a balloon unicorn under one arm and a stuffed elephant under the other. Her mother picked her up and swung her around before balancing her on a hip.

Whispering in Ana’s ear, her mother asked, “Are you having fun, mija?”

“Yes!” Ana bounced, wanting down. “Can I play some more, Mama?”

Her mother tried to find a spot on her daughter’s face not covered in paint. It wasn’t easy, but she found a clean spot for a kiss. She put her daughter back on the ground and called, “Come back to eat soon!” but knew her daughter had already put food out of her head and was rushing back for another balloon animal.

The longer I watched the family and friends talking and laughing, running and shouting, I knew I was looking in the wrong direction. A chill ran down my spine, a prickling between my shoulder blades.

I turned my back on the light and love, instead staring into the gaping maw of death—the forest—or more precisely, the hunger within the forest watching the children.

Much like Hernández studying my paintings, I scrutinized the wooded area before me. Towering trees created an ever-gloom, with saplings, bushes, and vines growing thick amongst them, hiding secrets, and a killer. He was here, watching, imagining. Vile thoughts cycled through his brain. He hated them, hated them all, with their birthday song and candles, the brightly wrapped presents and hugs. Blocking out the party, he imagined each of them dead by his hand.

Studying people as one would animals in a zoo, he’d learned how to mimic, how to behave as they did. He practiced expressions in the mirror. No one ever really paid him much attention, but if they did, he knew how to look confused and innocent. He was just a kid, after all.

No, sir. I never saw a little girl. I’m in sixth grade. Why would I be playing with a kindergartener? And a girl?

Yeah, that was the right tone. Respectful but uninterested. Even when adults looked at him, they never saw him. He liked it that way.

He eyed the birthday girl greedily, watching her father spin her through the air. It wouldn’t be long until those squeals of laughter turned to screams. He couldn’t wait.

I heard his thoughts. I didn’t see him, but I also didn’t turn away. Like that brushstroke of yellow hidden in the painting, he was hidden in this forest. I was standing in this stream for a reason. There was something special about this perspective. I was sure of it.

Leaves were fluttering in the wind. My eyes, though, were drawn up, to a spot that moved out of sync with the wind. Finally, I saw it. Blue eyes peeked out from behind obscuring tree branches. So young. How did one so young become so irretrievably twisted?

And then he moved forward and I saw his face, the empty eyes and the feral grin. I had him. Opening my hand, I released the lightning bug that had found me in the void.

35

Unicorn Deception

Blinking, I looked into Declan’s eyes. He was crouched in front of me, still holding wet towels to my forehead and the back of my neck. “How messed up are your legs right now?” They were shaking, poor guy.

He fell back on the bedroom floor with a pained groan.

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