Step on a Crack

Step on a crack, break your mama’s back.

That saying invaded my head as we walked through town. I spent nearly the whole time staring at my own feet, skipping and sidestepping to avoid any cracks in the sidewalk.

“Stop that, Ivy,” Mom hissed. “You’re a young woman for goodness’ sake, act like one.”

It took quite an effort to keep myself looking ahead as we continued down the street. It’s not that I was afraid that I’d cause irreparable bodily harm to my own mother; I hadn’t really thought that since I was a kid. But when I was small I truly had believed that I might accidentally kill her, which would have left me completely and utterly alone - and back then, that terrified me more than anything. At this point, avoiding the cracks was just an ingrained habit.

As soon as I lifted my chin, I remembered the other reason why I typically kept my eyes on the ground. The whole of Candor’s main street was washed with a sepia-toned depression, people included. We passed many storefronts with vacancy signs, and most pedestrians who noticed us hastened in the opposite direction. I went back to avoiding cracks.

For all my eighteen years, I'd been mostly sequestered away. I was home-schooled and allowed minimal contact with the wider world. The once a month trips into town were my only reprieve from domestic captivity, and Mom didn’t allow technology in our mansion, despite being able to afford the most advanced of devices. We had a land-line phone for deliveries and such, and that was about it. The only things Mom spent real money on were clothes, decor for the mansion, the occasional new model of luxury vehicle, and in-home beauty services. I suppose it wouldn't do to not look the part, even if it was mostly for ourselves.

When I was younger, our monthly trips were much nicer. The paint on the buildings wasn’t so faded, and people would even greet Mom back then. They called her Miss Ariel. Sometimes I would even receive gifts or treats from virtual strangers. But now, everyone just avoided us. The only person who spoke more than five words at a time to us was the widowed Mrs. Miller, who ran Mom’s favorite tearoom.

With the day’s shopping done, we entered Le Petit Four, ringing the little bell above the front door. Mrs. Miller’s head popped up immediately from the bakery case and she hastened over, completely disregarding the patron she had been serving.

“My dears!” she cried, leading us to our usual table. “I’d almost thought you wouldn’t come!”

I couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a secret hope of hers, but she patted my arm and gave us a radiant smile regardless.

“Miss Ariel, it’s a pleasure to see you as always. Ivy, could it be possible you’re more beautiful than last month? And that dress, it’s to die for!”

I mumbled my appreciation with burning cheeks, and Mom ordered tea and a sandwich tray which was served almost immediately.

“Now, Ivy,” Mom began after a long sip of her tea. “I know you’ve learned the incantation, and I’ve prepared you for this day for the past several weeks, but I do want to make sure you understand how important this is. I want you to take it seriously.”

“Mom, do I have to? I’m not really interested…”

Mom silenced me with a raised eyebrow, drumming her flawless French manicured nails on the tablecloth. Then she clasped her hands together and leaned in.

“There is something I haven’t told you yet, Ivy. The reason I’m teaching you my monthly ritual is because I am expecting you to take up the responsibility yourself, starting next lunar cycle.”

I lowered the small cucumber sandwich triangle I’d just been about to bite into. “Mom, what? I can’t, I mean, I don’t even know what happens! I don’t want to know. Why? Why can’t you just keep doing it?”

“Lower your voice,” she snapped, her eyes glittering dangerously. “This is not a request or a favor. This is your duty, and you will take it on with poise and dignity. You will never have to work. You will never have to dirty your fingers with grease, or paint, or,” she glanced up at Mrs. Miller, sweeping several tables over, “flour. All you must do is complete the ritual once a month, and enjoy the luxury you’ve already come to know.”

“But I don’t enjoy it, Mom,” I replied, trying to stay quiet. “I hate the mansion, I hate learning the craft, I hate being isolated from everything. I want to live in town and make friends. I want to go to school.”

“Really, Ivy, look at this place. Candor is a dying town, there’s nothing worthwhile here.”

“Yeah,” I replied, taking a bite of my sandwich without any pleasure, “because of you.”

I expected backlash, but Mom let it go with a sardonic smile.

“I’ve kept this town alive rather than let it burn itself to the ground. The people here are thankful for me. Just look at Mrs. Miller. She wouldn’t have any business if I didn’t keep this place above water.”

Mom sipped her tea with a self-satisfied smile, and I said nothing. She was delusional, that was clear, and no words from me or anyone else would ever cure that. I pushed my plate away and sat staring out the storefront into the gray street, wanting only to leave.

At last, Mom paid the bill, leaving an extravagant tip, and we headed to the Hotel Burgess a few blocks down the street. The hotel was old and famous, and despite the decaying town, the hotel boarded a healthy number of tourists and business people each year.

The doorman held open the tall glass door, and Mom led us into the grandiose lobby. It didn’t take her long to spot her prey. I watched her eyes lock onto a man sitting at the lobby bar. I followed her as she sidled up next to the man, who sat drinking dark liquid from a rocks glass. He was younger, maybe in his twenties, with a well-groomed beard, thick black plastic-rimmed glasses, and arms covered in tattoos. Most likely a tourist, from his casual attire.

The man did a subtle double-take towards my mom. After a couple flirtatious exchanges, he turned his attention fully to her. She laid on the charms thick and fast, trailing a finger down his arm and stealing his drink for a sip. Then she spoke the words she’d taught me. Words of great power and nuance; words that set a deadly trap.

I was a ghost in the background, watching unhappily as she bent the poor man to her will. Of course, I’d seen her work before, but this time I was to be taking notes and learning the subtle art of seduction in tandem with the spell. It made my stomach lurch uncomfortably.

Everything was over for the man as soon as the last word was spoken. His eyes went glassy, and he followed us out of the hotel without any protestation. I kept my head down, feeling the eyes of the hotel clerks watching us. They wouldn’t say anything, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

When we got to the car, I took the driver’s seat while Mom and the man got in the back. She’d taught me to drive at the age of fourteen, so this was the usual routine for us. Avoiding looking in the rear-view mirror, I drove us out of town and along the mile or so of country road to our mansion, all while trying to block out the disturbing noises coming from behind me. Mom didn’t have to keep up with the physical part of it - the words were enough - but she obviously enjoyed it.

I entered the key code for the gate to our driveway when we arrived, and parked in front of the house. Mom took the man’s hand and ran inside with him, giggling like a schoolgirl. I followed reluctantly.

“This place is amazing,” the man’s voice echoed in the foyer.

“Darling, this place is a humble shack. We have virtually nothing.” Mom slipped her arms around the man’s waist. “Don’t you feel sorry for me?”

“You’re right,” he responded in a flat tone, staring deeply into her eyes. “How could such a beautiful woman live in such a squalid place? I would do anything to help you.”

“Would you? Come to my room then, I’ll show you how you can help.” She took his hand and began to lead him upstairs. As she stepped onto the third-floor landing, she glanced back down at me. I cringed. “Come on then, Ivy. The lesson is nearly over.”

My feet were leaden as I trudged up the stairs after them. Down the long hall, past room after unnecessary room, we finally arrived at Mom’s master suite. She sat the man down on her four-poster bed, then opened her roll-top desk to retrieve an old, thick book, a pen, and something else which she stuck between her lips: a needle.

“What’s your name?” she asked the man through one side of her mouth, sitting next to him.

“Bruce. Bruce Baker.”

“Bruce,” Mom purred, running the back of her hand down his cheek. “And how much money do you have, Bruce? Do you have life insurance? Retirement?”

“Yeah,” Bruce said breathlessly. “It’s not a lot, but I started saving last year. I have life insurance through work too.”

“Will you promise it to me, Bruce? We have so little…”

“Of course! You can have it all!”

“Thank you, love. There’s just one thing I need you to do.”

“Anything, Ariel. Anything for you.”

She cracked open the book and handed him the pen.

“Sign here.”

Bruce did as she asked.

“Let me see your thumb.”

Bruce held out his thumb. Mom took the needle from her lips and stuck it into his flesh. Bruce didn’t react. She smeared the little bubble of blood pooling where she’d stuck him, covering the skin. Then she pressed his thumb to the page next to his name, leaving a thumbprint as neat as fresh ink. Bruce looked at my mom.

“Can I kiss you now?” he asked.

She ignored him and turned her attention to me. “Do you see, Ivy? How simple it is? Of course, enchanting the book was not an easy process, but it will last us many years to come. One day I’ll teach you how the magic works, but for now, all you need is a name and blood to seal it.”

“What happens to him?”

“He’ll go back home and make all the arrangements to have his wealth transferred to us, and then he’ll begin to fade away. By the next full moon, he will be gone.”

“It’s disgusting,” I said, eying the book. There were ten names on the page Bruce had signed, and that was many pages in. “Why can’t they just be bewitched into giving us money? Why do they have to die?”

Mom laughed and stroked Bruce’s leg. He’d begun to paw at her.

“The seduction spell only lasts a month, Ivy. That’s why the book is cursed to drain them of life in the same span of time. It wouldn’t do to have them change their mind or spill our secrets, would it? Now, the next part isn’t really part of the lesson, so you may be excused, Ivy. Why don’t you go practice the words while I finish up with Bruce.” She turned back to him and accepted his eager lips. I didn’t linger, slamming the door behind me and making my way to the farthest possible end of the house.

​

As with all the others, Bruce had already gone by the time I woke up. I guess in my heart I always knew that the men my Mom ensnared didn’t go on to lead long, fulfilling lives, but knowing it for sure now put me into a state of deep depression. Everything we had, all these empty rooms to ourselves, all the expensive clothes and vases and bullshit - it was all acquired through the gradual deaths of innocent men. Mom wasn’t even picky; she didn’t go out of her way to find exclusively rich men. Anyone was fair game to bleed dry, figuratively and literally.

That morning I made a couple of slices of toast and brought them to my room so that I could be alone. I sat on my bed and read One Thousand and One Nights, trying desperately to clear my head. It wasn’t long before Mom knocked lightly at my door, opening it without waiting for my reply. She leaned on the doorframe, wearing a silk robe.

“Ivy, you’re not studying? I thought maybe you’d want to practice the spell. I do expect you to handle your first mark next month.”

“I’m not doing it,” I said, keeping my eyes on the page I was reading. “We have enough money, and we have enough stuff. I’m not going to do it.”

I sensed the icy anger radiating from her, but I didn’t look up.

“You will, Ivy. I’ve already told you, this is not a request. You will do what I say.”

“No, I won’t.”

Mom rushed to my bed and grabbed the book from my hands. Her nostrils flared, her dark eyes intense.

“This is not up for discussion. You will practice the words for two hours today, and that’s final. After that, you may have your book back.”

I looked at the book in her hands and focused on it. I knew it wouldn’t help matters, but I was just so angry and so tired of being told what to do. I bound it to my mind and willed it to escape her hands. Suddenly, the book had torn itself from her grip, flying over her head. She looked up with annoyance and tried to reach for the book - but I moved it out of the way just in time. Mom made a strangled cry of frustration, glared at me, then stomped out of the room, ranting about how ungrateful of a daughter she had. I couldn’t help but smile. Mom was a skilled practitioner of seductive and dark magics, but telekinesis was a natural talent all my own.

​

Over the next few weeks, our home was the site of a minor warzone. I occasionally studied to cool Mom’s temper, but I told her again and again that I wouldn’t lure a man to our home to sign the book. She tried all manner of tactics to talk me into it, even going so far as to say we could find someone close to my age - they wouldn’t have any real money of course, but it would be good practice. That didn’t exactly sit well with me, and I locked myself in my room for most of a day. Mom used an unlocking spell to break in that evening and called a truce.

“I’ll tell you what, Ivy. I won’t expect you to have someone seal their signature. Just get as far as bringing them home to sign the book. If all we have is their name, they aren’t in real danger. What do you say? Come have some tea and a cookie, and we’ll talk about it.”

I was starving, to be honest, and relented. Finally, mom convinced me to at least go that far. I wasn’t happy about it, but I felt that there would be little point in denying her any longer. She was stronger than I was, and I had nowhere else to go.

On the day of the next full moon, we went into town. I wore a pretty burgundy dress, and Mom had pinned a sunflower in my curled hair. For once she dressed more plainly than me, wearing jeans and a black blouse. As usual, we shopped and had tea, and finally we walked down the street to the hotel. I was beginning to get nervous, and found myself sweating despite the mild autumn day. Once inside, my heart began to beat very fast.

“Over there, checking in,” Mom pointed at the front desk. “What do you think? Too old?”

“Mom…”

“Ivy, you’re not going to back out of our deal, are you?”

“No, it’s just… maybe if you would back off I wouldn’t be so nervous.”

Mom pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Fine. I’ll go back to Le Petit for another cup of tea. Meet me there in an hour, and make sure you don’t come alone.” She turned on her heel and left. I sighed, feeling lost.

“Hey, do you need help?”

A boy my age had approached me. He was a bellboy, dressed in one of those old fashioned uniforms. The hotel tried to keep up that vintage feel by having all the staff dress the way they had when the hotel had opened a hundred years ago.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said, trying not to let my lips tremble as I smiled. “I’m just going to have a soda from the bar.” I began walking, and the boy followed.

“Oh, okay. Hey, do you go to Candor High? I just started there as a senior, I don’t think I’ve seen you there.”

“No,” I responded. “My mom teaches me at home.”

“Oh, gotcha. I’m Colby by the way. We moved here in the summer.”

I sat at the bar, and was surprised when Colby sat next to me.

“I’m Ivy. Shouldn’t you be…” I gestured at the lobby.

“We haven’t had many guests today. People don’t even usually want help with their luggage, to be honest. Even if they do, they hardly ever tip.” He grinned at me, then looked up at the bartender. “Hey Alex, can we have a couple Cokes?”

“Diet for me, please,” I said, feeling my cheeks warm. “Thank you, Colby.”

“Yeah. So what do your parents do?”

I was caught off guard by the question. “Oh, well, my mom is an heiress. I never knew my dad.”

“I’m sorry,” Colby said, clearly taken aback. He took a thoughtful sip of his soda. “I hope this isn’t too insensitive, but I’ve noticed there seems to be a lot of kids in my school without dads around. It’s kind of spooky.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “It sure is.” I knew I should start saying the words soon. I hadn’t even had to do anything to get Colby’s attention - it would be so easy… but all I wanted to do was keep talking to him. It had been so long since I’d talked to someone other than Mom.

“So why did you move to Candor?”

“Well, my parents are both teachers, and they transferred to the high school. Trust me, I’d rather be back in Portsmouth. Uh… no offense.”

“None taken. Candor isn’t very nice anymore. It used to be, once.”

“So what do you do for fun around here, Ivy?”

“Fun?” I asked, tilting my head and squinting at the boy. “What is this ‘fun’ you speak of?”

Colby laughed. “Point taken. Well maybe we could hang out sometime? You seem pretty cool.”

My heart fluttered in my chest, and my mouth went dry. I took a sip of soda, trying to think of something to say in response.

“Would you like to see my mansion?”

Colby blinked.

“Mansion?”

“Yeah. We have the biggest house in town. Well, just outside of town. You can come see it.”

“Really? Sounds kind of cool. Maybe I could come by after work?”

“Why not now,” I whispered, trying to give him a coy look. “Would they really miss you?”

Colby glanced around, a mischievous glint appearing in his blue eyes. “Yeah, why the hell not? I’ll tell ‘em I got sick, it won’t be a big deal.”

With knowing looks and laughter, we made our escape out of the hotel and down the street. Once we’d caught our breath, I nodded my head at the tearoom.

“I have to tell my mom it’s time for us to go. She won’t bother us at the mansion though, I promise.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure, that’s fine.”

We stepped in, and Mom beamed at me when she saw us.

“Oh Ivy, good. I was just about to hunt you down myself.”

“Mom, this is Colby. He’s going to stop by and see our house.”

Colby waved awkwardly. “Hi, Mrs…”

“Call me Ariel,” Mom said, giving me a sideways glance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man.”

​

Mom drove us back, while Colby and I made quiet, awkward conversation. I caught her looks in the rear-view mirror occasionally. She could tell I hadn’t used the spell, of course.

Colby gasped when he saw the mansion appear over the next hill, and I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. I’d never brought anyone over before, so I’d never had anyone to show off to. It was kind of exhilarating.

“Do you like to read, Colby? We have an amazing library. And wait until you see the greenhouse.”

Inside, Colby’s jaw dropped as he looked all around. “This place is incredible! That staircase... wow. How many rooms are there?”

“Fifteen,” Mom butted in, “not including the garage of course. Or the indoor pool.”

Colby’s eyes lit up. “You have a pool? I’m surprised you don’t have a bunch of kids from town over, like, every weekend.”

“We never have people over,” I mumbled, giving Mom a half-apologetic, half-scornful look. “Come on Colby, let's check out some of the rooms.”

“Let’s start with the master suite,” Mom said tersely. “I think your little friend would find it quite impressive.”

“Mom, can’t we just hang out for a little while first?”

The look on her face answered my question. I swallowed, and felt a cold chill in my bones. With a nod to Colby, we all went to Mom’s room. Colby was suitably impressed.

“That’s the biggest bed I’ve ever seen,” he said in awe. “And I’ve never seen a fireplace in a bedroom before.” He looked around while Mom took me by the arm and dragged me to the desk.

“Why haven’t you cast the spell?” she hissed under her breath.

“I haven’t exactly needed to,” I replied with a hint of pride. “Let’s just call it good, Mom. We can let him go, and next time I’ll do it for real.”

“This isn’t catch and release, Ivy. We’re not playing a game.”

“You said he wouldn’t have to sign in blood anyway,” I argued, folding my arms. “What is the point of making him sign the book?”

“You have to practice. Cast the spell, make him sign, and we’ll let him go.”

“I won’t.”

Colby approached us, looking doubtful. “Uh, sorry to interrupt… is everything okay?”

Mom’s whole demeanor changed on a dime. Her posture relaxed, and her face lit up with a sultry smile.

“Colby, come sit on the bed. Ivy has something for you, wait just one second if you don’t mind.”

“You know, I might just call my parents, have them pick me up.”

“Nonsense,” Mom said, reaching out to take hold of Colby’s arm. “Go on Ivy, get the book. And why don’t you practice that poem you’ve been working on. Now.”

Her shift in tone clearly made Colby uncomfortable, but Mom wasn’t letting go. As I watched him begin to struggle, his protestations growing louder, I panicked. Closing my eyes on the tears that welled in them, I began the incantation, immediately feeling the thread of bond from Colby weave its way to my hands. It snaked securely around my fingers, like a cat’s cradle made from twine. I opened my eyes and found Colby looking at me in a way that made me deeply ashamed.

Mom released her grip. Colby lunged to me and fell on his knees. His hands rose to the hem of my dress, clutching at it like a drowning man.

“I need you, Ivy. Let me be with you, I’ll do anything. What do you want? I’ll steal if I have to, whatever you want, it’s yours.” He moaned with miserable passion, and I stepped back in horror, leaving him bent prostrate on the floor. Mom stood over him, her lips split in a grotesque smile.

“How does it feel, Ivy? How does it feel to have him wrapped around your little finger? You could make him do anything you want.”

Colby started crawling towards me. I backed up until I was trapped against the desk.

“I can’t do this!” I gasped, shaking my head.

“You must, Ivy. If you don’t, then I will.”

Mom was suddenly speaking the words of power, and I felt the threads of the bond unraveling in her direction.

“Stop! Okay… I’ll do it.”

“Good girl,” Mom said. She came to the desk and opened it to retrieve the book, which she shoved at me unceremoniously. “And while we’re at it, why don’t you go ahead and have him seal his name after all?”

“No! You promised!”

“I didn’t promise anything,” Mom snapped. “And at this point, I don’t think it’s wise to be gentle with you, Ivy, or you’re never going to toughen up enough to do what has to be done. You will seal his name in the book, or I’ll lock you in the basement for a week, do you understand?”

I wiped my running eyes and nose with the backs of my hands and glared at her. “Leave us alone then. I don’t want you here, just get out!”

Mom stood still for a moment, her eyes sweeping the room. Then she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. I wasted no time, uttering the words that severed the bond. Colby’s eyes regained their clarity, and he was suddenly scrambling back from me.

“Ivy? What the hell happened?”

“There’s no time,” I said. “I’m sorry I can’t explain, but you have to leave out the window, now.”

“Aren’t we on the third floor? I’ll break my neck!”

“No you won’t, I’ll help you.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Please, Colby, let me save you.”

A knock came at the door, followed my Mom’s muffled voice.

“Ivy, how is it going? Has he signed the book yet?”

“Just a minute,” I called, then shoved Colby to the window behind the desk. I pushed it open and climbed on top of the desk, beckoning Colby to do the same. “Please,” I begged, “please trust me.”

Colby scrambled up and looked out the window to the ground below.

“There’s no way,” he shook his head. “You really are crazy, Ivy. I’m just going to leave. Whatever you’re afraid of can’t be worse than that fall.”

“I wish that were true,” I sighed sadly. “I’m sorry, Colby. It was really nice to meet you.”

Before he could respond, I pushed him out of the window. As he fell, screaming, I pushed at him from below with my mind as hard as I possibly could, slowing his momentum to that of a feather floating down on a light wind. He tumbled gently to the ground several feet from the house, and I watched him get to his feet awkwardly. He turned his face up to the window once before he took off on foot, climbing the fence handily and disappearing down the road. I closed the window and ran to the bed to collapse in a mess of heaving shoulders and choked anguish.

Mom rushed in and screamed.

“What have you done?” She came to the bed and grabbed the hair at my scalp, forcing me to look at her. “You let him go? What were you thinking?”

“I liked him, Mom. I wasn’t going to kill him!”

“You’ve disgraced me and your witch blood,” she spat, releasing me with a shove. “I should have known this would be the outcome. If I had had more foresight, I would never, never, have carried a child.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Did you really think I was going to keep up the ritual every month until I died? No, Ivy. I had you so that one day I would be able to enjoy my spoils without having to dirty my hands any further. The blood of mortal men makes you stronger in many regards, but in other ways…” Mom turned her head in a rare display of vulnerability. She went to pick up the book and stowed it away within the desk. “You’re fortunate that the town is already firmly in our grasp, Ivy. Your slip up would have led to us being burned alive in our own home in a healthier time. I’ve worked hard to make Candor mine. They’ll know better than to let the boy talk.”

I watched as she closed the window. I’d never seen her look so sad.

“Who was my father?” I asked firmly. “I want to know. You’ve never once told me about him.”

Mom shrugged, tracing a finger absentmindedly atop the closed desk. “He was nobody. A fisherman, back when the town was prosperous. He wasn’t well to do, himself. Travis.” A hint of a smile touched her lips. “Travis Hesse. We had a natural chemistry. I didn’t need to cast the spell until the last possible minute. That was after you’d already been created.”

“Did you love him?”

Mom rolled her eyes and came to sit on the bed by me. “Love isn’t like in your storybooks, Ivy. I knew him for a night, and that was all. He was kind and gentle, sure, but that meant nothing. All that mattered was that his name ended up in my book, and in that way, I provided for us. For you.”

She reached out as though to stroke my cheek, but I pulled away. Her hand stayed static for a moment, and I sensed the hurt for a second before she dropped it. Her eyes softened.

“Go to bed, Ivy. We’ll figure out how to remedy your failure tomorrow.”

​

After the incident with Colby, Mom was insistent that the next full moon would see my first name bound with blood. So I put away my storybooks and began studying from the many spellbooks Mom had, playing the part of a dutiful daughter. She was pleased with my sudden interest in learning all things craft related, and encouraged me enthusiastically. She went on about how she regretted not learning more when she was my age.

The night before the full moon, I went into Mom’s room. She was lying in bed and reading a paperback with a bare-chested man on the cover. Such a hypocrite to chide me for reading rich, meaningful stories when she herself indulged in harlequin romances.

“What is it, Ivy?” She asked, putting the book aside face down to save her place.

“I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

I braced myself, wanting to look at the desk but not daring to give anything away. “I’m not going to town tomorrow. I’ve decided I’m not going to do the ritual. Ever.”

Mom huffed. “That’s enough of your foolishness, Ivy. Go to bed and get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow. In fact,” she smiled wickedly. “I think it would be best if you try to find your little boyfriend and actually make him sign the book this time. I feel like that would make a very valuable lesson.”

“I said I won’t do it.” I lifted my chin stubbornly.

“You will,” Mom replied, climbing out of bed. “You will obey your mother, and you will contribute to this household.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh,” Mom cackled, “you think I can’t, huh? Girl, I have powers you can’t even imagine.”

“I’ve learned a trick or two myself,” I said, trying not to let my voice crack.

“Ivy, I see your hands trembling. If you’re so afraid, why do you defy me?”

“You’re evil!” I shouted. “You’re an evil witch who kills people, and you’ve imprisoned me in this place for my whole life! I hate you!”

Mom’s eyes went deadly dark. Her feet lifted from the ground, and she hovered in the air. Her long chestnut hair floated around her head as though she were submerged in water. She lifted her hands, gesturing widely.

“I’ve given you everything,” she said, her voice distorted and strange. “But I won’t hesitate to take it all away, Ivy, if you really can’t handle the simple task I require of you. I’m not beyond watching my own flesh and blood die.”

Her words were daggers, but in my heart, I think I’d already known she felt that way.

“Do whatever you want,” I said. “Just let me ask you one more question before you kill me.”

I turned my head to the desk and opened it with a flick of my mind. I drew to me two objects - one obvious, and one not. The book landed in my hands, the pages fluttering.

“I looked through the book, Mom. There is no Travis Hesse in here. My father’s name was not bound to the book. So what happened? What happened to my dad?”

“How dare you?” Mom screeched, and her hands turned black, shrouded by a dark flame. I stood my ground. “You have no right to question me, to pry into my history.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, and I levitated the other object to my eye level - the needle, from which the blood and life of untold men had been drawn. “I have enough proof to know that you’re just a twisted old bat with a broken heart. I’m going to give you the body to match.” With a yell, I sent the needle spiraling through the air, straight into my mother’s chest. I sensed it lodge in her heart, where the shocked organ struggled around it.

Mom clutched at her chest, and collapsed to the floor, gasping. When she looked up at me, she was smiling.

“A needle, Ivy?” she wheezed. “You think a needle would be enough to kill me? Have you really forgotten the lessons I’ve taught you?”

“Never,” I said, edging my way to the fireplace. “But I’m not going to use the book to make myself strong or rich from the deaths of innocent men. I told you, I won’t do it.” I reached the stone hearth and lifted my toe over the large crack that ran the width of it.

Mom was beyond words. From her crouched position she raised her hands again, and they became balls of black fire. I didn’t hesitate a second more, slamming my toe onto the fissure. There was a sharp crack as Mom’s spine snapped the wrong way. She screeched and writhed hideously on the ground, her body twisted and grotesque. The sight made my head spin.

“What did you do, Ivy?” Mom cried, her eyes spinning in her head. “Why can’t I move?”

“Step on a crack,” I said under my breath, and a bitter heaviness settled on my chest. “It’s going to be okay, Mom. I’ll make you as comfortable as possible. Just try to relax.”

I used my telekinesis to raise her mangled body into the bed. It took all of my power, and I was left collapsed on the floor, nearly as vulnerable as she was.

“I’m going to get out of this, Ivy,” Mom snarled, “and you’ll wish you’d never betrayed me!”

“The thing is, Mom,” I said between gasping breaths, “that needle has a permanent curse on it. Every time I step on a crack, your spine will break again. Besides, I know you never studied the white magics, so good luck curing yourself.” My bravado was not entirely honest. I wasn't positive my plan would keep me or the people of Candor safe. In fact, I was terrified of the repercussions if Mom were to break free.

“You’re really going to break my back, again?” Mom laughed. “Ivy, you don’t have it in you. You’re too good.”

With solemn deliberation, I stepped on the crack again. Mom screamed in agony, her body contorting violently once more. Then she went silent, and I crept to her side. She’d passed out in an ungainly heap of tangled body parts, but was still breathing. I let a teardrop from my face to her cheek as I kissed her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, then left her there. I went to my own room and cried myself to sleep.

​

The next morning I woke in a panic, sure that Mom had somehow escaped the prison of her body. I ran to her room and found her still in bed, twisted and useless. She was softly weeping.

“Mom?” I tried.

“Go away you wretch, or I’ll cast a spell on you.”

I didn’t flinch. If she’d known a spell to use, she’d already have done it.

“I’m going to town today, I’m going to do some shopping. And I’m going to find someone who can care for you. You better promise to be nice to them.”

Mom didn’t respond.

“I’ll be back. And...” I chewed my lower lip for a moment. “I’m sorry if can’t avoid all the cracks on the sidewalk. It was a lot easier when I was little. I’ll be back later.”

I left, closing the door on her furious howls.

​

I couldn’t help but smile a little on the drive into town. I was finally going to have a normal life, with access to technology, and the freedom to pursue friendships - maybe even a job. I might even have a second chance with Colby...

But that will take some time. I haven’t stepped back into the hotel yet. It’s been several weeks, and I’m loving everything about my new life - not to mention the vitality that has been injected into Candor. The town has regained a small amount of its former glory, and since I’ve gone to town so often without my mom, people have even started to warm up to my presence. No one has asked after her whereabouts - not even Mrs. Miller, the tearoom owner.

I bought my first laptop and my first cellphone with the assistance of a patient electronics shop clerk. I sit in Le Petit or the library most days, using the wifi available to learn about the world I'd missed out on. I’m planning on getting my GED soon.

Writing this is a little bit of catharsis, a little bit of apology, and... well, frankly, a little bit of a warning. If Mom somehow outwits me and regains her body, that will be my end, I’m certain. But the town should know that if that were to happen, they can fight back, and they must. My mom is strong and evil, no doubt, but not all-powerful. She is a threat that can be denied.

I love you, Candor. I’m sorry it took me so long to find that out. And if you come across me staring at my feet, hopping and skipping to avoid cracks in the pavement, please don’t think less of me. In spite of everything, I do my best not to cause my mother any more pain than she’s already in. In spite of everything, I still love her too.

Submitted November 01, 2019 at 04:39AM by KateMonet https://ift.tt/2r2Db63