Chuks is bad, and he needs to be stopped. End of story.
Grandma has come to treat Luna like an extension of our family. It warms my heart to see Luna smile when my grandma smothers her with love. Luna needs all the positive energy we can heap upon her right now. If she stops to assess her life, there are some major dark lakes swelling over.
My favorite time during this week of adjustment and planning is in the early morning when Grandma takes Luna and me under her wing and mentors us in the art of elemental connection and spell casting. Luna has exploded a few flowers and vases, but she’s starting to gain better control.
As Thursday slides toward a close, my insides begin to tighten, solidify to stone. Mrs. Flores is supposed to be released tomorrow, and I’m not ready for Luna to leave my home. Having her around on a regular basis makes the hard heavies a fair degree lighter.
Around nine o’clock, we curl up on our respective sofas and stare across the space between us.
“Looking forward to breaking your mom free tomorrow?” I ask.
“Yes,” she blurts. “And no.”
My breath catches. Is it possible she harbors the same feelings as me about our current housing situation coming to an end?
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, and I’m glad she’s getting better.” She clings to her crisscrossed legs, her fingers tightening and releasing. “But every time we’ve visited her, she’s been in some sort of coma sleep, and I don’t know what to make of that.”
My breath releases and my gut drops. Luna’s hesitancy has nothing to do with leaving me to move back home. It’s about her mom, and that makes sense. My gaze flickers toward the ceiling, as do my thoughts to my own mom.
“Goodnight, girls. I’m going to bed.” Grandma turns off the light in the adjoining room and starts climbing the stairs.
“Goodnight, Grandma,” Luna and I say in unison.
We watch and wait while she climbs the stairs. Turns off the stairwell light from above. The room, now dressed in shadows, is lit only by a small lamp at the edge of the room and the fraction of streetlight filtering in through the windows.
Luna leans forward, into her lap. “What if my mom returns home as some different kind of zombie? A result of whatever the bokor did to her? Then both my parents will be some version of the living dead.”
My mouth pops open, and I want to say something but what? What should I say? Michael told me we can help Luna’s dad by getting him away from those feeding him whatever poison it is that makes him zombie-like. But, if her mom returns home with issues, then what’s the answer for that? She’s been in the hospital, a place where she should have been cleansed of anything some bokor would have slipped her.
My mouth becomes desert dry. I swallow. Swallow again.
The headlights of a car move past the window, sending a streak of light shifting through the room. My body tenses, and I stare across the dim room at Luna. Wind howls and the house creaks. Her eyes widen and she stares back.
A shrill.
We both jolt.
The shrill becomes a ring. The ring of a phone.
My hands fly to my lips, holding back a laugh, and I rock forward. Luna breaks into giggles. A tension built over talk of zombies, dark rooms, and creepy winds is broken by a phone call.
I jump off the sofa and rush to the phone, snag the receiver from the cradle. “Hello?” My breath betrays my quick dash between rooms.
“Is Luna there?” a man asks. “This is her uncle Andy.”
Pulling the receiver from my ear, I stretch my phone-clutching hand toward Luna. “It’s for you,” I say. She crosses the room, a frown on her lips and her fingers rubbing against the base of her neck. I tell her it’s her uncle, and her eyes light with understanding. She takes the phone. Holds it so that I, too, can hear the conversation.
“Yes,” she deadpans.
“The other day, you mentioned your dad falling prey to Chuks's zombie curse,” he says.
“The bokor. Yes,” Luna says, making it clear she isn’t comfortable calling the bokor by anything other than his title.
“Well, I did a little asking around, and I know where he’s being kept.”
“My dad?” Luna’s body jerks straight. “Where is he?” The light behind her eyes brightens.
“I’ll take you there, tomorrow. It’s already too late for tonight,” he says.
“But my mom is supposed to be released from the hospital tomorrow.” She scratches the side of her head. “I don’t…”
“Do you not want to rescue your dad?” her uncle asks.
“No, no. I want to get him. I just…”
“Figure it out,” he blurts. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, around five twenty.”
“Why so late?” she quips. “Why can’t we go right now?”
“Because, such things are best done after business hours, under the cover of a darkening sky. And it’s already too late tonight,” he replies. “Now, where should I collect you?”
“Lafayette Cemetery. Number One,” I interject. “Northeast corner.” Luna pulls back and glances at me sideways. “It’s close and easy to find,” I whisper. Her lips pucker.
“Consider it done,” her uncle says. “See you then, and be sure to wear shoes with traction and dark clothing.” He ends the call.
“You, me, and my uncle, sneaking around like dejected ninjas?” She blinks twice. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
“We’re not going to die. We’re going to save your dad.” I squeeze her hand.
“But his magick…”
“Hey.” I strike my finger through the air, cutting her off. “We have magick on our side, too. Don’t ever forget that. You need to be strong and believe in yourself.”
She drops her head and nods. “I do. I believe.
A vacuum is swirling in my chest, and I need to put my emotions at ease. Stack the odds in our favor. I pick up the phone and punch in a number. Luna turns her
