Ghost of O'Leary House

Chapter Fourteen

David left the shower, dressed in his grey hoodie and baggy pajama pants with a sense of renewal, a sense you could only achieve when you cleansed yourself with a thorough scrub down with hot water. Smiling, he walked past his grandmother’s door, which was slightly ajar and peered inside. She was curled up on her bed on her side, breathing slowly, her back facing him.

Good.

Going to his room, David searched every nook and cranny for Oliver before closing the door, secure in the knowledge the pesky cat was out of his hair for the night. Padding across the throw rug, David reached under the mattress for the book and the knife, pulling both out and setting them on the bed softly. He almost jumped out of his own skin when the book flipped open, pages turning of their own accord until they landed near the front of the tome.

Are you ready? The book wrote, the letters rising from the paper in viscous red fluid.

“Almost,” David said, wanting to draw this out a little further to see if he could learn more about the book. “I wanted to ask you, who are you?”

The book remained still for a few moments, the letters fading back into the page slowly, like water sinking into the soil. Slowly, new words rose to replace the last ones.

You can call me Sam, it wrote slowly, the droplets of blood forming together to create the word Sam almost reluctantly.

“Why do you want me to do this Sam?” David asked thinking of what the book could possibly gain by helping David find out if his Grandmother was a Witch. “The way I see it, I already know the answer to my question; if she owns you, she has to be a witch.”

Not true, she hasn’t turned my pages since before you were born. The words rose to the surface in rapid succession.

“So, she found a better book and didn’t need you anymore,” David said, to which he felt a forceful shove against his shoulder as if someone tall had just pushed him.

There is no better book than I, Sam wrote, the loopy lettering growing calmer by the second.

“Okay Sam, I understand… now if you want me to do this, you’ll need to show me that list again so I can go and gather the supplies I’ll need.”

Sam didn’t reply, merely allowing the list to bubble up from the page once more. David took a page from one of his notebooks and began writing out what he’d need for the ritual, scratching down the ingredients with a stubby pencil. Slowly standing up, David moved towards the door and opened it, casting a doubtful look back at the book, who merely flipped a few pages before shutting itself.

David snuck past his Grandma’s room and into the kitchen, opening cupboards and pulling out drawers to look for where she stored her gathered herbs. Upon pulling on a heavy drawer near the bottom of the cabinets, David whistled; there were large jars, some filled with powdered granules of a peppery looking substance while others held roots and tubers, all labeled with a label maker.

“Alehoof, check… dried Caldamon seed, check…” David began lugging out the requisite materials, scooping them into a small bag he’d purloined from the pantry. After he grabbed the last of the herbs, he turned and began making his way back to his room.

Only to be stopped by his grandmother.

Standing on wobbly legs, she stared at him hard, like she had with Jesse and the others. She was silent, her hands open at her sides, her fluffy pink robe divested to reveal her own white pajamas, her feet clad in socks.

Surprised, David moved the bag of herbs behind his back. “G-Grandma, you’re awake!”

“Yes I am, David,” Grandma said, taking a step into the kitchen. “And I’ve been watching you pick out of my herb drawer some very specific supplies.”

“Really?” David asked, his voice rising in tenor.

“Really. So, what has it promised you?” She asked calmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? Nothing’s promised me anything, I was just…”

“Just gathering the necessary materials for a certain ritual that I would rather you not do, David.” Grandma finished for him, cutting him off.

She suddenly jerked back violently, as if shoved by someone large, hard. Steadying herself, she looked around, eyes wide. “David… what did you promise it?”

“Just… just that I would do the ritual,” David replied, looking at his Grandmother with terrified eyes.

She cursed under her breath. “Well, I suppose I should have expected this someday. That book has a mind of its own, and I’m only getting older.”

“Grandma?” David was worried, as he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Well, let’s make sure you have everything you need. Doing the ritual wrong can cause problems down the road.” Grandma mumbled, eyes darting back and forth before settling on David. Walking into the kitchen she grabbed the bag from David’s hand and opened it.

Taking out each collection of herbs, either in small bottles or baggies, she seemed to weigh them in her hand before putting them back in the bag. Reaching up into a cabinet above the oven, she pulled out an electric scale, maybe the size of a small book. She turned and handed it to David, along with the bag of herbs. Smiling softly, she turned to her quiet grandson before handing him the bag of herbs and the scale.

Grandma seemed hesitant for a moment, her eyes looking around the room as if she were watching an errant fly. “Be careful David. Don’t promise anything that isn’t worth it, and always make certain that you get something from the deal.”

“Deal?” David asked, looking at his Grandmother with a measure of calm.

“You heard what I said. You already started the process, and it must be finished lest the spirit gains a foothold within you. I tried my best to keep you from discovering anything about this side of me, but it took you less than twenty-four hours to find my secret.”

“Secret? That you’re a witch?” David asked, feeling emboldened by his grandmother's seemingly reluctant way of discussing the matter.

Grandma stared at David for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “I was once. But not anymore. The price was too high…”