The Witch Box
*****
Josh noticed that his father’s coloring did not look good; flushed in the cheeks, but pale everywhere else. “You feel worse?”
“I’ve been feeling like shit since I got up this morning.”
Josh was surprised at how easy driving came to him. He parked in the road after arriving at the church. He got out first, helping Max.
Joshua had left the door hinges loose. Joshua squeezed in first, trying to make a wider space for Max, who managed to get his aching shoulders through, the exertion making him dizzy.
Rays of morning daylight made the inside of the church less gloomy. Max followed Joshua to the turned-over pew, but Ruth was gone, only a dark brown pool remained on the old wood floor, covered in dust.
Joshua felt a painful sinking in his stomach. “What the Hell...”
“I believe you, son.”
“Anna saw her, too. The blood is here. How was she moved?”
One of the other pews was still upright. Max sat down, rubbing at the left side of his jaw. “There must be another way in and out. Probably a storm cellar.”
“We still need to call the police.”
“Josh, there were so many things I didn’t know about your mother and the others. You should talk to Alice, but I never liked her. Her husband died during the drought, his death passed off as a heart attack. Liz worked at the bank with Alice then, they were all related somehow, through the Whites and the Curtises. The witchcraft started with Rebecca and Alice. They managed to pull all of them in. With Harvester’s favor, Liz started putting together a grimoire with Alice. It burned in the fire. They used to get together in the basement, do their rites down there. Nasty stuff, with blood. They needed a boy. Disgusting. Alice was never in her right mind. Rebecca made it worse. Good thing she’s dead...”
Max put his head into his hands. Joshua bent over his father, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Dad?”
“Take my cell phone. Call an ambulance. But I want to be outside...”
“What’s wrong?”
“My chest is aching, I’m dizzy, and my left arm hurts like Hell all the way down. Did I mention my jaw hurts?”
Brenda and Colbie found Joshua sitting alone in the waiting room outside the E/R. His father was getting more tests.
“Was he conscious?” Brenda asked.
Joshua nodded. “The whole way here. He’s getting an EKG right now.”
“Maybe it’s not a heart attack,” Colbie said
.“He had been feeling tired for days,” Brenda said. “He was worried about you, Josh. He was stressed.”
“Dad was worried about a lot of things. But he tried to tell me about my mom, about Alice. Their grimoires. They needed a boy. Why?”
Brenda stepped away, heading for a vending machine. Colbie sat down in a chair. “If I go into labor, at least I’ll be at the hospital.”
Her attempt at humor fell flat. They all remained silent until the doctor appeared and explained that Max had suffered a mild heart attack and wouldn’t need surgery, but would be staying for at least a few days to be monitored. They could see him after he was settled into his room.
“I remember Max telling me that his father had a heart attack in his fifties. But Max is only forty-seven,” Brenda said.
“He’ll be all right,” Colbie said. “He doesn’t need surgery...”
Joshua rose from his seat, looking out of the window. His head and his stomach hurt. He felt as if the floor had fallen out from beneath him and all he could do was drop.
“Who is going to run the plant?” Colbie asked.
“Me,” Brenda said. “The plant manager and the new HR guy can help. Knowing Max, he won’t stay home for long.”
They were allowed to visit with Max for a little while. The sight of his dad hooked up to oxygen and in a hospital gown, exhausted and pale, made Joshua want to weep.
He would have stayed all night, but Brenda handed him the keys to her car. “Take Colbie home. You two need to rest. If there’s any change, I’ll call.” Before he could step away, she said,”Max always felt guilt about Davey. But he couldn’t save that boy after Alice and Rebecca made their plans. All they had to do was talk Liz into it, and it was easy, because she loved you so much. Be patient. Max will tell you the rest when he’s ready.”
Joshua was too tired to ask more questions. Colbie followed him out of the hospital, their drive home silent until they entered Fruit Ridge and stopped to check on Max’s SUV.
From the outside, the SUV looked fine, but Joshua had left Max’s cell phone inside while waiting for the ambulance. Joshua unlocked the driver’s side door, his gaze searching out the phone. On the seat, he found something else.
Joshua had not thought about the blue rag doll rattle in weeks. Now, it lay on the seat, the little nails in its head undisturbed. Bonnie had said that nails were used for protection. Joshua wondered if one of the circle had been trying to protect the house.
Or him.
He left the doll where it was, reaching for the phone. As he did, he was struck by a feeling that he had done this before. He tried to concentrate, but no picture came to his mind.
He locked up the SUV, phone in hand. They could retrieve the vehicle later.
“Thanks for coming,” Joshua said.
“I heard about Max,” Anna said. “I’m sorry.”
Anna entered the front door, Colbie at the couch. “I told Joshua what you told me. About Grandma.”
“What else?”
“Just that.”
“We all have to stop keeping secrets from each other,” Joshua said. “I don’t know if Dad’s heart attack had anything to do with it, but it has scared me enough that I’m tired of being scared.” He turned to Colbie. “I know there are things you have been hiding. Dad and Brenda, too. It’s not like I haven’t noticed that there are no photographs on the walls or anywhere else. No school pictures. I think that no one wants to talk about my school days because of another reason. I did something wrong, didn’t I?”
Anna looked over at Colbie. “You tell him. You were there.”
“I don’t want Max and Brenda pissed at me.”
Joshua walked over to her, taking her chin between his fingers. “This is not the time to start acting like a snotty girl. You will talk to Anna with respect around me. And you will tell me the truth. If not, I will make sure your next home is another trailer–by yourself with the baby.”
Colbie shook off his grip. “You little prick! If it wasn’t for Anna and me, you would have been dead that night—“
“Colbie!” Anna cried. “Don’t!”
Colbie kept her gaze on Joshua. “Josh, you have no school pictures because you didn’t go to school until you were twelve. Brenda homeschooled you. You were sent to the middle school at seventh grade. You didn’t graduate because you were pulled out of school by your parents.” She turned to Anna. “You want to tell him why?”
“You do it.”
Colbie rose from the couch, her hands on her lower back. “You made Mrs. Hollander have a stroke. In the school hallway during the Christmas assembly. Brenda was there, too. She saw it happen. Mrs. Hollander had flunked you in Calculus. She was also your teacher the year before in Algebra. You never liked her. She thought you were a punk. We were in the hallway with Brenda, getting ready to leave. You went up to Mrs. Hollander. You took her hand. I don’t know what you said to her. Maybe you said Merry Christmas. Then the blood came out of her nose and mouth. She dropped dead. Brenda begged Max to take you out of school. You weren’t going to graduate, anyway.”
“How could I make someone have a stroke?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think Max entirely believed Brenda. He bought you the Jeep.”
Anna sighed. “Damn you, Colbie.”
“Max can’t hide the Jeep forever. I’m surprised Josh hadn’t found it in the garage already.”
“I had a Jeep?” he asked. “I don’t have a license.”
“Yes, you do. Where do you want to sta
rt, Anna?”
“At the beginning.”
“Let’s show Josh Alice’s book.”
Brenda had called the house, telling Joshua she was going to spend the night at the hospital. Max was doing fine, he was sleeping.
Brenda sat in the uncomfortable chair next to Max’s bed. She didn’t think it was a good decision for Colbie and Joshua to be alone at the house, but she couldn’t leave Max.
The dim light in the room was making her drowsy. The sun had set; the winter darkness oppressive. She unfolded the blanket the nurse had given her, knowing her back would ache in the morning.
She must have dozed off for a while because she dreamed of voices, the sound of several women, the voices overlapping, joining together. Hecate. The circle. The boy. Favored.
The last word made Brenda’s eyes snap open.
A broad-shouldered man was standing at Max’s bed. Dressed in black, head covered with a ski mask. Brenda blinked, not believing what she was seeing. A long knife in the right hand, arm raised, the blade pointed at Max’s chest.
He looked up and Brenda saw the dark, dead eyes.
“I’m just here to check Max’s vitals. Hate to wake him up.”
The nurse took only a few steps into the room before being knocked over.
Brenda rose from the chair and ran after the figure, who was still gripping the knife. The smell of rotting meat was strong. Max opened his eyes, confused. “What?”
Brenda chased the stinking man down the hall. He was running, but wheezing. His legs were stiff, large feet in old boots. He pushed open the door that led to the stairs. The door slammed shut before Brenda could catch up. She opened it, but stopped.
No sound of footsteps on metal.
“Ma’am?”
She looked behind her. A security guard had arrived, the nurse following. Brenda stepped aside, letting them do their check of the building. But they would not find him. She touched the pentagram she had drawn on her chest through her sweater.