Luna startles and Michael jumps to a stand.
“Thank you, but you need to go,” she whispers to my brother. “Can you make this disappear,” she says to me, circling her hand in the air over the casting elements. “I’m going to see Michael out.”
“Got it,” I say and blow out the candle. I dip the incense and the candle in the bowl to make sure any burning flame is completely out and then set the bowl aside to be dumped in the bathroom. I bundle the salt and sand within the cloth, wrapping it tight.
Luna slips back into the room. “My mom is coming.” She kneels beside me, takes the wrapped cloth and shoves it under the bed. Grabs the candle and incense.
“What did I say about you being in your bedroom?” Mrs. Flores’ voice is closer than before. Clearly close to the room now.
Luna lifts her open palm through the air. Catching the message, I leap up from the floor and drop onto the edge of the bed. She snags the bowl of water and stashes it on the back corner of her dresser, balancing the candle and incense across the top. Flattening her hair, and pressing a calming hand to her chest, she leans into the piece of furniture. Her body, likely blocking anyone’s view from the hallway.
The bedroom door pushes open. Mrs. Flores waves her hand before her face and wrinkles her nose. “You were burning something. You know the rules. No flames. Flames lead to fires and fires lead to death and destruction.”
Luna steps away from the dresser, her shoulders dropping. “I know, Momma. But Papa just died, and I really wanted to honor all that he was, so I burned a candle and said a prayer, just for him.”
“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Flores enters the room and wraps her arms around Luna. Kisses the side of her head.
I wring my fingers and avert my eyes. My skin is starting to itch. Sitting out in the car with my brother is starting to sound more inviting.
“I’ll let it slide this one time but not again,” Mrs. Flores says, her words somewhat mumbled by the closeness of their embrace. “I won’t take any chances on something going wrong. I can’t lose you too.”
“I understand,” Luna says, pulling back from their embrace.
“Burning a candle does not explain everything I am smelling here, though.” Mrs. Flores waves a weak hand in front of her and turns in a circle.
“I added a little bit of incense to remind me of papa’s cigars,” Luna quips.
“Well. At least the incense smells better than those things. Such a nasty habit.” She spins back to face Luna. “But just like I don’t allow you to burn things in the house, neither was your father allowed to smoke those nasty cigars in the house.” She glues a stern stare on Luna. “Never again, you understand me?” She wags a finger in Luna’s face. “If you feel the urge to show the dead such respect in the future, wait until daylight and take it outside.”
“Yes, Mom.” Luna drops her gaze to the carpet.
“Now why don’t you girls return to the front of the house, watch some television or something.” Mrs. Flores pushes the door all the way open and steps out into the hallway.
“Actually.” Luna grabs my wrist and tugs me off the bed. “Belle was getting ready to leave.”
I startle. Snap my gaze to her. “I was?”
“Yes, silly. Remember?” she says. “I appreciate you coming when I called, but I now need some alone time. Plus, you have school in the morning.”
I frown. School. Who can think about going to school after the events of this night? How am I expected to sit through a day of boring classes when I know Luna is hurting? Could even be in danger?
Luna pushes me down the hallway, toward the front door. Stops.
“Oh!” She exclaims. “I almost forgot.” She runs back to her room, returns a moment later, and hands me a large wrap of fabric.
“What’s this?” I straighten the piece, holding it out between my hands. Stretched out before me is a wicked black apron adorned with pockets aplenty. “Flying broomsticks! You didn’t?” I crush the fabric in my hold and spin toward Luna.
“I did.” She smiles. It’s a touch of joy on her otherwise stricken features.
“Thank you.” I crush myself to her. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“You’ve done far more for me,” she says. “Besides, you deserve it.” She sees me to the door.
We say our goodbyes, and I dash down the steps toward the car. Michael pulls forward so that I don’t need to walk as far. He takes me home. Waits until I’m safely inside before driving away.
Pressing my back against the door, I gaze into the darkened house and recall all the events of the day, in reverse order. Luna’s protection is in place. Her father is dead, likely by the bokor, and her mother probably knows something, because she was acting overly protective, even for the circumstance. Michael, James, and Jeanna helped with the earlier casting for Mom.
Mom.
With all that took place afterwards, Michael must have temporarily forgotten. Otherwise, I would have thought he would want to check on Mom himself.
I push away from the door and wander through the house. Find Mom in bed, sound asleep. Guess we won’t know if the spell worked until later, when she’s up and mobile.
The day has been long, and the amount of energy I have utilized has left me beyond spent. I wash my face and call it a day. Come morning, I call Luna first thing.
“The timing is bad,” she says. “I’ll call you later. After you get out of school.”
I’m left with the odd sense of being incomplete. Like something important that makes me me is missing. I try checking on my mom, but she’s still asleep and won’t wake up.
My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. Should I
