Witches on Parole: Unlocked

Chapter 23
It was a three-ring circus at eight o’clock in the morning. Lizard was beginning to seriously regret telling a soul what she’d planned. And apparently the two souls she’d told had assembled half of Berkeley to watch. There was an impressive and growing crowd milling around the big warehouse near the Oakland Harbor.

Some thoughtful witch had illusioned the signs on the building. She was guessing Aervyn was the culprit, given that they now said Monstr Truks. That might not make Elsie any calmer. It was, however, doing a good job of keeping the waiting audience in the dark.

If Elsie didn’t take the dare, then this was going to be the suckiest thing she’d ever done to someone else on purpose. And Elsie was her friend.

You had enough faith in her to set the dare, said a brisk voice in her head. Caro, walking up with a flock of ladies from the knitting store. Don’t go all wimpy on her now. She’ll need you to poke her a little.

That had been the idea yesterday. In the cold light of morning, it was looking insanely stupid and more than a little mean.

“There’s not a mean bone in your body,” said Caro, closer now. “A few stupid ones, but I’m not seeing any of those poking out today.”

Lizard jolted as warm arms enveloped her in a hug. They should be saving all the gooey stuff for Elsie.

Caro chuckled in her ear. “I just don’t want you to puke on me, girl. Get that backbone of yours straightened up. I sleep just the other side of the wall from Elsie’s bedroom—you’re not the only one who hears her dreams.”

Lizard breathed—and discovered that her desperate need to puke had eased off some. “Am I crazy? Maybe dreams stay inside your head for a reason.”

The look Caro leveled at her was the kind that made grown women squirm. “Sometimes it’s those things inside your head that need to come out and play the most.”

Lizard wasn’t sure they were talking about Elsie anymore.

And then the crowd noise doubled, and they weren’t talking at all. The star of the show arrives. Good luck, girl. And with that, Caro was gone, melted back into the sea of faces.

Jamie got out of the car first, turning and waving to the crowd. Holy shit, he sent to Lizard. Where’d all the people come from?

Frack. I thought you invited them.

A few. I wouldn’t have done this to her. She’s gonna freak.

She’s tougher than you think, sent Jennie calmly. And obviously more loved than any of us knew, including her, I suspect. Is she coming out?

Nat’s working on that. Jamie looked a little worried.

“That’s your cue, sweetheart,” said a rich voice in Lizard’s ear.

She turned in shock—for old people who lived far away, Vero and Melvin did a lot of traveling.

“It’s a stage you’ve created for her.” Vero swept her arm grandly, taking in the crowd, the slightly dingy warehouse, and the morning fog. “Now you need to ask her to make an entrance.” She pushed on the small of Lizard’s back. “Go. She needs you now.”

Lizard stumbled forward, legs liquid with fear that Elsie might never even make it out of the car.

The first eyes she saw when she ducked her head into the car were Nat’s. A glance full of tranquil strength, and then she slid out of the seat and motioned Lizard into the car.

Getting in was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She looked over at her roommate. “You going to puke?”

“I don’t know.” Elsie sounded like one of Scrooge’s ghosts. “I don’t even know what you want me to do yet, or why, and I’m already terrified.” She picked at the simple black pants on her legs. “They told me to wear clothing for yoga, but I don’t think all those people are here to watch me do a handstand.”

Well, that might be one of the things that happened inside the warehouse, but it probably wouldn’t be the audience favorite. And Caro was right. If Elsie was going to face this thing, she needed a little poking. “I’ve been thinking that a lot of those people out there have been going too easy on you.”

Elsie’s head flew up, eyes sparking. “Too easy?”

“Sure.” Lizard tried to put on her obnoxious delinquent persona. It was harder than it used to be. “They’re all treating you with kid gloves. ‘Let’s see if Elsie can be a little silly.’ Is that what you want at the end of this? To be silly?”

Her roommate’s face fell. “I love my Silly Jar.”

Damn. Okay, poking was officially done—she couldn’t take it anymore. Time for plan B. Lizard reached out for Elsie’s hand. “Your Silly Jar rocks, but it’s only the beginning of what you can do. You’ve got real guts in you. You didn’t start out so hot, but you’re totally amazing now.” Cripes. This was getting way too gooey, but she needed to finish. “You could stop now, and it would be cool and everything, but I just don’t think you’re done. There’s more in you.”

Elsie stared for a long, long time. And then asked one question, her entire mind holding its breath for the answer. “What else do you see?”

Lizard breathed out. It was going to be okay—she knew the right words now. “Daring. You could be daring.” She reached for the car door and pushed it open. “And there’s a whole crapload of people out here waiting to cheer you on because they totally love you, Silly Jar and all.”

She stepped out of the car—and clutched the door to hold herself up as Elsie stepped out to thunderous applause. That had been way, way too close.

~ ~ ~

Vero had a lifetime of experience watching stage entrances. She’d seen them from stars and terrified understudies, first-timers and singers well past their prime. She knew how to read the signs and tell-tales, the tiny indicators that even seasoned professionals couldn’t hide.

She knew to watch the hands. Elsie Giannotto had Italian blood running in her veins, and Italians believed hands were the eyes to the soul.

She’d seen Elsie’s hands hanging onto her piano as music slammed into her heart. She’d seen restless fingers traveling the folds of an uptight skirt and a floaty yellow dress. She’d seen those hands at rest, and leading arms up to the sky as passion soared.

But when Elsie stepped out of the car, eyes skittering around the waiting crowd, Vero saw something she’d never seen before.

Two fists. Italians also knew how to fight.

Delight beat in her heart, and she gripped Nat and Jennie’s hands more tightly. “She’ll be just fine now—our Elsie’s found her courage.”

Jennie snorted skeptically. “Her mind’s still a scattered mess.”

Sometimes minds were the last to know. “Her soul is going to lead today, not her brain. The lovely Natalia has taught her how to do that.”

Nat’s breath came in quick gasps. “Maybe we should reserve judgment until she actually hears the dare.”

Ah, yes. The lovely Natalia knew what was coming. Vero squeezed her companions’ hands one more time and tried to impart the sense of destiny she read in her student. “Fortitude, my friends. She’s ready for this—we’ve all had a part in bringing her to this moment. Now we’re simply breath for her wings.”

Elsie’s audience sensed the beat of destiny too—Vero could feel it. After forty years on the stage, she knew these moments. They brought either standing ovations or career suicide. She wouldn’t permit thoughts of the latter.

Someone had opened the side doors, and people began filing into the building, a buzz of awe filtering back from those who had made it inside. Lizard grabbed Elsie’s hand and positioned her in front of a big loading door. “Wait here. I want everyone to get inside first.”

Now the fists were gone. Elsie and Lizard stood hand in hand in front of the enormous door and waited for it to open. It was the last thing Vero saw as she ducked inside—and the first thing she saw as the door swung up and finally revealed what lay behind.

“Welcome to Trapeze Arts, everyone.” Lizard pulled Elsie forward and projected her voice so everyone could hear. She gestured toward the back of the crowd, where three people in tights stood up on some kind of platform. “Those are the trainers who work here—Elliot, Colleen, and Abe.”

She turned to face her roommate and pointed to a bar hanging far above their heads. “This is my dare for you, Elsie Giannotto. I dare you to fly.”

Dozens of people watched Elsie’s face. Those who could also watched her mind and heart. Vero watched everyone else. There was Helga, hands pushing on air, sending strength. Marion, standing beside her warrior-firm—and clutching prayer beads in her hand. A gaggle of children who had arrived on bikes, here to cheer Gertrude Geronimo’s rider down her next hill. Thea, holding a tiny babe, with a whole neighborhood ranged behind her. And the ever-familiar faces of Witch Central, breathing hope into one of their own.

Elsie saw none of it. She stared only at a solitary trapeze hanging quietly down from the ceiling.

And then the entirely unexpected happened.

She ran. Straight for the ladder to the sky.

~ ~ ~

For a thousand nights, that trapeze had called to Elsie, swinging through her dreams in impossible temptation. And a thousand mornings she’d woken up and remembered that people didn’t fly. That skies were for birds and gravity was an immutable, unbendable rule.

Not today. At long, long last—not today.

Strong arms caught her just as she reached the base of the ladder. “Hey, slow down there a minute. I’m Abe. Let’s get you clipped into a harness, okay? Then we’ll head up.” He grinned. “You must really want to get started.”

It shocked her to her toes, but yes, she did. The harness, however, had never been part of her dreams. “Will it get in the way?”

“The harness?” Abe shook his head. “Trust me, you’ll hardly feel it. There’s plenty of open sky up there.”

A few more safety instructions, to which she paid embarrassingly little attention, and then they headed up. Abe took her hand as she stepped onto a small platform. “Okay, the first thing is to get you trusting the harness and the net. I want you to do a big jump off the platform here and land right out there in the middle. You’ll feel the ropes working to stabilize you on the way down, and the net’s a soft landing. Do a nice big cannonball, just like you used to do into the pool when you were a kid.”

Elsie Giannotto had never been that kind of kid.

She looked down—and felt her head reeling. Oh, God. This was a very bad time to discover a fear of heights. Abe wrapped her hands around the ropes, and she felt the sense of disorientation receding. “In general, looking down will just make you dizzy. Keep your eyes on those two over there.” Elliot and Colleen waved from the mirroring platform on the opposite wall.

Abe tapped her shoulder. “Ready when you are. Big step out and feel the wind in your hair.”

What she felt was the beating of a thousand hearts—and not all of them were hers. And the strains of an aria, rising in the background. Vero—singing of passion.

Elsie breathed in the love. Clutched the ropes. Bent her knees. And launched herself into outer space.

It was Gertrude Geronimo on a big hill in fast-forward. Her stomach carved an arc in the sky, coming down to land somewhere in her toes. And she was pretty sure the jubilant scream ringing off the rafters was coming out of her mouth.

Then feet touched net—and back up into the air she flew, this time with eyes wide open. Abe was right. She didn’t feel the harness at all.

She had no idea how long it took before the net no longer catapulted her back up into the sky. She landed, a tangled pile of rope and legs and sweaty joy. And saw Abe, waving down from the platform, laughing. “I forgot to mention the bend-your-knees part. That way you won’t bounce off the net so many times.”

Elsie grinned back, delirious and a little dizzy. “What fun would that be?”

He chuckled and started pulling on a thin line. “Come on back up. This time, we’ll put you on the trapeze.”

Her entire world narrowed to the bar slowly swinging back to Abe’s hands. She was going to fly.

Quickly, she scaled the ladder, barely conscious of the height this time. And felt the earth shift when she grabbed on to the trapeze with both hands. It was like a living thing, shimmying under her touch. Something that had always been meant to be part of her, and had been missing until just this moment. She shook Abe off as he leaned over. No instructions necessary. Her soul had been training for this moment for thirty years.

Hands firm on the bar, she pushed her hips up into the sky—and flew into her dream.

~ ~ ~

The joy beating out of Elsie didn’t take a mind witch to see—but every mind talent in the crowd was amplifying her anyhow. She was far too contagious for them to do anything else.

Jennie watched the moment through her camera lens—and knew exactly what she would call it. Escaping Gravity. Elsie had found her next picture with a vengeance.

“There’s another picture to take,” said Melvin’s quiet voice at her shoulder. He’d always known how to make himself heard in the midst of bedlam. “Over to your left.”

Jennie turned, astonished. Not once, in twenty-five years, had he tried to point her camera in any particular direction. And then she felt it, sandwiched between Elsie’s sky-scorching joy and the communal celebration on the ground.

Lizard’s fierce, proud delight.

Jennie felt her tears come.

“They love.” Melvin’s thumb gently wiped her cheek. “This is a miracle of Elsie’s bravery and Lizard’s insight—and the woman who trusted that they could become sisters for each other.”

“Lucky guess,” said Jennie, sniffling. She looked up as another squeal signaled Elsie’s descent off the bar down into the nets.

This time she remembered to bend her knees. After coming to a much less unceremonious stop, Elsie peered down through the net and waved, blowing kisses at the upturned faces.

Melvin laughed. “She’s got a bit of the performer in her, doesn’t she?”

Jennie grinned. Aervyn must be providing eyes for Melvin again. “Vero has taught her well.”

Elsie headed for the ladder with one last wave to the crowd. Helga, standing right at the front, called after her. “Hurry on up, sweetheart. I want a turn.”

The trainers up on the platforms thought she was kidding. Jennie wasn’t nearly so sure.

“Interesting.” Melvin reached for his pendant. “They’re not finished with her yet.”

Jennie blinked. The girl had flown on a trapeze—what more could they want? She watched as all three trainers started moving around. Elliot hopped onto some kind of modified trapeze. Colleen flew down one ladder and scaled up the other side. Then she borrowed Elsie’s trapeze and focused on Elliot, swinging from his knees on the second trapeze.

Oh, God. They couldn’t—they seriously couldn’t. Jennie felt the crowd hush as more eyes figured out what was coming. Colleen and Elliot, seasoned veterans, executed the move with easy precision. And then Abe put the bar in Elsie’s hands as Elliot wound up his swing again.

Jennie had a terrible urge to cover her eyes. And then she felt Melvin’s hand, warm and comforting, wrap around hers. “Feel her mind, Jennie mine.”

The sky-scorching joy was gone. And in its place—bold, focused daring.

Abe had his hands on Elsie’s hips, helping her time the jump. One, two, and off, flying through space on a thin metal bar. This time, she had a destination. With a grace that awed Jennie, Elsie slid her legs up through her arms and over the bar—and then let go with her hands. One long whoop of joy as she whooshed through the air hanging by her knees, and then she was looking. Reaching. Meeting her partner’s hands as if she’d done this a thousand times.

Elsie Giannotto, trapeze artist. She was utterly magnificent.

~ ~ ~

Elsie tried to roll down from the net like Abe had instructed—and landed in an ungainly heap in his lap. He laughed and stood her back on her feet. “Your legs are probably a bit tired after all that. You just blew through about three months of lessons in an hour.”

Her legs were wobbly. Her arms were pretty much non-functional. And if none of them ever worked properly again, she’d consider it a fair trade.

Abe handed her a brochure. “We have beginner classes and intermediate. You could come for either. Beginner’s more about the flying-free stuff. Fun, not very demanding. More partner work at the intermediate levels, and focusing on knowing where you’re going.” He grinned. “Seems to me you might like both.”

Elsie stared. And then started to laugh. A warehouse full of meddling witches, and the next step of her journey was coming from a guy she’d just met. Elsie Giannotto still needed some free flying. Heck, if it felt that good every time, she’d always need it. But she also needed to figure out where she was going.

Someplace to match her newly bold heart.

She took the brochure—and turned to face her audience. She had some things to say. And then it would be time to get even.

After flying on a trapeze, public speaking was a breeze. “I was going to say that I have no idea why you’re all here. Well, except for Helga.” She paused and grinned at her white-haired friend. “You can come with me next time.”

“I just might,” Helga chortled. “And we’re here because we love you.”

“I know. And I’m pretty sure you’d all still love me even if I’d never gotten out of that car.” She wondered if they had any idea how close a call that had been—and sought out the face that had chased her out into her dream. “How did you know?”

Lizard shrugged and crossed her arms. “You dream loud.”

Elsie stared, shocked to her core by the invasion of privacy. And then shock receded as Lizard’s words truly sunk in. “No.” Elsie shook her head slowly. “I didn’t dream loudly enough. My deepest hopes only got to come out and play at night when I wasn’t really listening.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the truth of what she was about to say next. “Thank you for listening when I couldn’t.”

“No big.” Lizard looked insanely uncomfortable now.

Elsie grinned. It was about to get far, far worse. She walked slowly over to her bag, keeping one eye on her roommate. And pulled out a brochure.

She turned to the waiting crowd. “You’re all invited to the Great WitchLight Dare, part two, tonight at the Starry Plough pub. 8 p.m.”

She turned back to a totally confused Lizard. “This is my dare for you, Lizard Monroe. You have an open-mike slot in the pub’s Poetry Slam at 8:15 p.m.” Which had required a minor act of God and several witches. She handed her roommate the brochure. “I dare you to speak one of your poems.”

Watching the blood drain from Lizard’s face, Elsie was suddenly very glad to be a fire witch. It might take a ring of fire to get Lizard in the pub’s door.