Be Careful What You Witch For

Mom insisted we stay for dinner. The dogs seemed to follow the conversation, sensing that they would be getting my mom’s cooking rather than dog food for dinner.

 

After agreeing to stay, we trailed into the dining room. Mom managed to produce a couple of roasted chickens, mashed potatoes, gravy, carrots, and green beans. I’d have to increase the exercise or decrease the visits to my mom’s this winter. She believed in a hearty meal once the temperature dipped below 50 degrees. I wondered what she did with all the food on the nights I didn’t show up with a famished teen.

 

We settled in to the feast with a loud clatter of scraping chairs and clanking cutlery. Dad sat next to me and seemed glum in comparison to Aunt Vi’s high color. I wondered if they’d had another disagreement over the relative usefulness of their respective careers.

 

Vi maintained that dentists were no longer needed in today’s society. She’d read somewhere that the dentists had “made up” the need for six month checkups and were all in cahoots to stir up fear of periodontal disease. Her profession, on the other hand, had always been and always would be necessary as long as people and animals coexisted. Ever since she had first broached this topic, it didn’t take more than a few words before my dad was taking deep breaths and looking longingly at the liquor cabinet.

 

My hopes that it was just another family squabble were dashed when Dad leaned toward me and whispered, “Red alert, 10-55.”

 

This was our own 10-code that meant the ladies were in full-on psychic mode and had plans to drag me into it. We’d established this protocol at the end of the summer when I realized that Dad was aware of much more than he ever let on and that he could be a useful informant in my struggle with Mom and Vi.

 

The plate of chicken and vegetables looked much less appetizing now. I focused on the food and tried to push my worries aside. How bad could it be? I’d gotten used to the addition of the pendulum to many family gatherings and Mom’s tarot cards could be entertaining if looked at in just the right light. . . .

 

Seth, as usual, had checked out completely once the food was served and I expected he would be no help to me until he’d made it through his second serving. I watched the ladies carefully, trying to sense what they were up to. I hoped it wasn’t another séance. The last time we’d done that, over the summer, Vi had either faked a manifestation, or had truly received a message from beyond. Either choice made my skin prickle.

 

We were just finishing the last round of potatoes when Vi took a deep breath and I braced myself. The doorbell rang. The cacophony of barking broke the mood and I leaped up yelling, “I’ll get it!” over the noise. I was so happy to postpone Vi’s announcement that I thought I might hug whoever was at the door.

 

It was Alex—lucky for me, less so for him. I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the dining room.

 

“Look who’s here,” I said.

 

“I drove by your house and it was dark so I thought I’d try here,” Alex said.

 

I apologized for forgetting to let him know where we were.

 

“No prob. You aren’t that hard to find,” he said.

 

“Do you want something to eat, dear?” Mom gestured at the platters of food. “We have plenty.”

 

“No thanks, Mrs. Fortune. I ate at work.”

 

“I’m glad you’re here, Alex,” Vi said, and gestured at an empty chair across from me. “Rose and I have an idea to help Diana.” Her brilliant smile should have signaled Alex to run, but he didn’t.

 

Alex pulled out the chair and sat. “Great! We have to get her out of there.”

 

Vi nodded. “We need to see how this is all going to play out.”

 

Alex hesitated. “You mean, like, ask the pendulum?” He glanced at me, looking for backup.

 

“No, we’ve tried the pendulum.” Vi crossed her arms and shook her head. “It can only answer yes or no questions and at this point we don’t know what to ask. We know Diana and Dylan didn’t do it but we don’t have any more suspects.”

 

Alex nodded warily. Seth leaned forward. Dad poured himself a whiskey that he produced from under the table. I hadn’t even seen him get up to nab it.

 

“It’s finally getting dark enough, Vi,” Mom said. “Should I go get it?”

 

Vi nodded and patted her hand. She turned to the rest of us.

 

My stomach felt like a hard ball of ice. I knew what they were up to and why Dad had called it a red alert. They were going to use the crystal ball.

 

“What?” Seth asked and bounced in his seat. “What are they going to do?” He could tell by my reaction that I wasn’t thrilled, which seemed to excite him even more.

 

“She’s going to get Grandma Agnes’s crystal ball,” I said to the table. I didn’t want to look at either one of them. Sort of like not meeting a teacher’s eyes when she’s looking for volunteers in class. I decided to go ostrich on them and hope they picked on someone else.

 

“Oh,” Alex said. He became focused on the pattern in the tablecloth as well.