Indecent Desires
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When I awoke the next morning, sunlight was streaming through my bedroom window. A cool breeze blew into my room and sent a chill down my spine. That cold wind had just walked over an open grave, so that chill meant one thing: It wasn’t wintered yet. So why was it chilly? My body still felt like somebody had taken a baseball bat to it.
It took me several minutes of poking around under my bed for any signs of life from the monsters who’d invaded last night’s fun before I decided they were gone and left the bedroom. Once inside the kitchen, I looked up at my mother and asked her if she knew where Dad might be this time of day.
She didn’t have an answer for me right away, so I went ahead and made coffee myself while we waited patiently together. We were both dressed now, although neither of us seemed to care much about our appearance. The only things on each of our minds involved the events of late at night.
I couldn’t help but think how much more comfortable I would’ve been sleeping in a coffin with those ghouls than having another cup of coffee.
Mom was staring off into space when I returned to the table where we normally ate breakfast—the same as always, except now that I knew something supernatural had attacked me the other night, the thought of drinking that stuff crossed my mind again.
I’d been able to fight them off easily enough, but what if it happened to me again? I wouldn’t be ready then. Would I die again, or could I find some way to stop it from happening every year? And would I even want to do that if there was no alternative? Or did I really need to worry about it at all?
“Do you know where your father is?” Mom finally asked me after several more minutes of silence. I told her I hadn’t seen him since he’d gone out earlier yesterday to work in his workshop. “Well,” she said, “we can’t go hunting monsters until he gets back, so let’s just wait and see if he shows up.”
She was right. I knew that Dad would be back before too long, and in the meantime, I could take care of a couple of household chores. I’d already done most of my spring cleaning over the past few weeks, so today was mostly going to involve washing the dishes. But I had plenty of things that needed doing in the living room, which would keep me busy while waiting for Dad to return.
After I finished the dishes, I cleaned up the living room and put a load of laundry in the dryer. It was only nine o’clock in the morning by then, but I wanted to get started on the living room as soon as possible, knowing Dad would come home hungry and grumpy without a bite to eat and a clean place to sit once he entered the house. He hated leaving the dishes unwashed for too long.
Once I got to work in the living room, my first order of business was taking apart my grandmother’s sewing machine and cleaning out the dust and cobwebs under the couch. The sewing machine sat near a large mirror and a wooden dresser that had belonged to my great-grandmother, and every time I turned around, there were spiders trying to crawl across my face.
If it had been warmer outside, I would’ve gone into the garden and used a broom to sweep them away. I didn’t mind killing them, but I never bothered because they were only harmless bugs. As long as they stayed out of sight, I didn’t bother them either.
Now, however, with two dead people lying in my backyard, their remains being carried away as garbage trucks drove by, I felt a whole lot different about the insects crawling in and around the mirrors.
As far as I could tell, the house was relatively bug-free, though. After checking underneath my bed again, I moved on to vacuuming the rug. It was only after I pulled it out completely that I saw that it was stained with black marks and blood.
The first thing I noticed was the stain directly below the edge of the rug. When I lifted my foot up to look closer, I realized it matched up perfectly with the shape of someone’s body, and it wasn’t my imagination. The stain was definitely bigger than a single person’s body. Then when I turned to the rest of the rug, I found the rest of the mess: Blood and gore everywhere.
I’d always known my family was strange. But seeing all the blood and guts and brains oozing out onto the floor of my living room was more than disturbing; it scared me straight out of my skin. For several seconds, I stood frozen in shock, not sure what to do next. I couldn’t very well go back into the house and tell Mom.
Not without making her suspicious, at least. She didn’t need that kind of pressure weighing down on her right now. I mean, she had a job to worry about too! Besides, how could I be sure these weren’t just some weird little kids playing in my backyard and getting themselves covered in mud and leaves during their playtime?
I took a deep breath and then carefully set the rug back against the wall. I went to the hall closet, grabbed some gloves from the top shelf, and slipped into one. Once I had them on, I opened the back door and stepped out into the sunshine.
There was an old picnic table sitting just beyond the chain-link fence. My parents often used to have family dinners there and then walk the dog around the yard afterward, but now it was just a plain square of concrete surrounded by tall grass and bushes.
When I looked toward the woods, I couldn’t see much in terms of anything moving in the shadows, so I decided to use my magic to help me get rid of whatever was on my porch. With a wave of my hand, I sent a stream of fire flying out into the yard.
A moment later, flames roared upward. It was easy enough to get the blaze going with a simple flick of the wrist and even easier to douse it before it ran up the side of our garage. But once I was done, I stared down at the smoldering ruins of the wood and realized it was pretty useless.
It’d be another day or two before the fire burned itself out, and besides that, I’d probably still find bits of flesh and bone buried among the ashes. I hadn’t expected it to actually burn like that. Fire magic is powerful stuff.
I walked back inside through the front door and checked my watch. It was eleven o’clock in the morning by then. I should’ve already heard back from Dr. Saldana. Was I forgetting something important? Should I have made a phone call while I was out running errands yesterday?
I tried to think about what I needed to do today, but all that came to mind was the fact that I was supposed to meet up with Sam to go to school in two hours. Then I remembered that she lived close enough to walk there, and I’d offered to drive over instead since we both lived within a mile or two of each other. So I didn’t really need to be anywhere for a good hour.
“Dr. Saldana,” I said out loud, “it’s me again.”
A moment later, a chime sounded on my cell phone. It was an incoming call from a number I recognized, so I answered it immediately. I waited for a few beats until I finally heard Dr. Saldana say hello, and then spoke back into the microphone: “Yes?”
“Hi, it’s Callie,” she began, “but if you’re calling me from your cell phone at this time of night, it must mean you have another emergency situation, right?”
There was no point in lying about it, so I nodded. “Yeah, I guess so… Do you have any openings in your schedule for tonight? Or tomorrow, either way, works for me.”
I was expecting Dr. Saldana to answer yes or no, but when she paused, I figured I’d misjudged her. She didn’t usually take a second or three to process things.
“… I’m afraid not, Miss Chase,” she said slowly. “But I can give you another option. Your grandmother is an excellent healer, isn’t she?”
I hesitated. If I told her what happened, would she believe me? And if she did, would she let me go see my mom? I knew she’d never turn away from helping someone who needed medical attention. But maybe that wasn’t the case here. Would she consider this an emergency, or not?
“She is,” I admitted after a few moments of silence passed between us. “So why don’t you just make it worth her while?”
For a long time, Dr. Saldana didn’t reply. I could almost hear her chewing over the details in her head. It was obvious she didn’t want to lie to me, but if I didn’t get an appointment soon, I might lose my chance forever. Eventually, though, she spoke again and seemed to reach a decision. “Okay. But I’ll warn you—it’s not pretty.”
***
As soon as I hung up the phone, I rushed back to the living room and sat down on the couch. The fire had completely died down by now, leaving behind only a few glowing embers on the wooden floorboards. As usual, there were more than a few flies buzzing about outside the window, and they flew off into the distance once the sunlight hit them.
For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt when I’d killed those insects in my mother’s bedroom. It was an overwhelming feeling of power and destruction, which left me wondering why people always seem to hate it so much.
I mean, if they hated it enough to keep trying to destroy it with their own blood, it probably meant they wanted it destroyed in the first place. It makes sense.
“Grandmother,” I asked aloud, “do you think you could heal someone without using your hands?”
I pictured Dr. Saldana doing the same thing my mom used to do whenever she got injured and needed a stitch: She’d wrap the cloth around her fingers to form a makeshift bandage, which helped to staunch the flow of blood and prevents infection. That way, her wound wouldn’t have to be touched by a needle or blade.
The old woman looked at me over the top of her half-moon glasses and pursed her lips. “I don’t know about that one,” she finally replied. “It depends on how serious it is. You’ve seen me use my powers before, haven’t you? If you remember anything like that, it’s not going to be hard for me to tell if I can help.”
I nodded. “Okay. So I’ll need to show you exactly what happened… How does that work?”
My grandmother leaned forward in her chair, resting both her elbows on the table and interlacing her fingers together. “I’ve already heard quite a bit about all this,” she said with a sigh, “but we’re still going to go ahead and go through everything with you again anyway. Just so I know for certain what to expect. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” I agreed, “but please try to make this quick. I’m really tired…”
Her eyes softened. “You must miss your mother terribly.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Very much so.”
We stared at each other for a while. Then, abruptly, she took off her glasses and set them beside her coffee cup. Without saying a word, she reached inside the pocket of her blouse and pulled out a small leather case.
With her right index finger, she flipped open its lid and slipped it onto the table. She removed something from within, placed her left-hand flat against mine, closed her eyes, and pressed her fingertips against my wrist.
Instantly, I felt as if I were sinking into a deep pool of liquid tar. The sensation was incredibly intense, but after a moment passed, it became tolerable. I found myself wondering what else she might be able to do besides heal with a touch.
I mean, I’d seen her use her gift many times since moving here, but there hadn’t been any mention of her being able to control it, like I’d done during our fight in the alleyway. There weren’t even any books on magic or healing spells in the apartment. I had no idea what else to expect, but at least, now, I had a starting point.
After a brief pause, my grandmother slowly opened her eyes. A smile spread across her face, revealing teeth that were too sharp and yellow for anyone’s good. She lifted her hand and held it over my heart, where the scars lay hidden beneath my shirt.
“That is the last of it,” she said. “The rest should simply fade away as the days pass. Now, I’ll ask you again, are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait until the morning? It’s late, you know…”
“No. Please… I can’t afford to lose another day.”
A look of surprise crossed her face. Then, without another word, she pushed back from the table and began to rise.
“Grandmother—”
She stopped and looked at me. “What did you say?”
“I mean… Are you absolutely positive you won’t mind? I mean, I understand if it’s too much trouble, but…”
My grandmother shook her head. “Oh, no,” she assured me. “Nothing like that. This will be fun, believe me… And I’ll be helping you to get well faster.”
“Thank you. Really. Thank you very much.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Well then, just hold tight.”
I waited for a few seconds as my grandmother stood up, picked up the little leather case, and walked past me toward the front door.
Then I followed her down the stairs and into the night, leaving my family and everyone else in the city far behind.
***
I couldn’t keep my eyes closed very long—not with Grandma walking alongside me on the sidewalk, talking incessantly and trying to explain things I barely understood. At some point, she must have realized she wasn’t making sense to me, because she suddenly stopped and let a short silence take hold.
“… What are you asking me?” she demanded, looking up and down at me in exasperation. “Is that what you want to know?”
“Uh… No, not really,” I admitted. “But, like, when did you decide to become an assassin? Do you have any training? Any experience? Or was this all just a whim?”
“A whim?” Her voice rose sharply. “Do you really think I could ever choose to hurt someone? That it would be anything but a terrible decision?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just that—”
“Just that?”
I sighed. “Yeah, well… Sometimes I feel like you’re more than a little weird. You always seem so calm and collected, yet you’re always so quick to anger. You’ve got this ability to heal others without even knowing how, but you aren’t even willing to tell us exactly what it means, which makes me wonder why you can do such strange and wonderful things at all.”
“You don’t trust me.”
I frowned at her. “Are you sure it isn’t jealousy? Because, personally, I think you’re awesome.”
At first, my grandmother stared at me blankly. Then she smiled. “Oh, well… As flattering as that sounds, it doesn’t change anything. I am who I am. If you don’t understand something about me, you can’t blame yourself.”
“Okay…” I said. “So… You were born into this whole life of magic and killing people?”
“As I’m sure you already know, we all come from somewhere different.”
I raised my brows. “Like what kind of place? Did you live in another country? Another world? Where did you come from originally?”
There was a moment of quiet. I watched my grandmother’s lips form words, but there was no sound coming out. Then, all at once, she reached into the pocket of her robe and produced a small box. I blinked as I took it from her and found it to be filled with silver coins.
They were old and worn, their edges slightly ragged from years of use. One coin rested upon its side, and the other three were stuck together in one thick wad.
I held the coins in my palm and wondered briefly about how they had come to be mine, though the question quickly slipped away. There was no time for thinking right now. The moon rose higher overhead; its light fell over the city, casting everything in shades of deep blue and white.
I looked up at my grandmother. “Where’d you get these?”
“They belong to you,” she said. “It was only fair.”
“Um…”
“Yes, I know.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “We’re still going to work together on getting your powers under control, but I wanted to make certain you were comfortable with our arrangement, so I figured I should give you some help. Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll need to see where we’re going.”
With that, she placed the money back into her pocket and turned around to walk away. But before she disappeared completely from sight, I asked her a few questions.
“So, is anyone else in this ‘we’ of yours?” I tried to ask calmly, although my heart was beating wildly.
She paused mid-stride and spun around to face me again. “No, I told you, you are all alone. I have a lot more freedom than I used to. But there are many places to go when you don’t belong to anybody.”
I nodded nervously. “Right,” I repeated. “Well, thanks. For the coins… And, uh…”
I hesitated before asking my next question because it felt like we might have been having a conversation, albeit a rather strange one. It was hard for me to grasp the idea that all these months—even years—of searching for answers might actually lead us right back to each other. To Grandma and me.
To the truth.
“Um… So, how long have you known about this thing inside me? About these powers of mine?”
Grandma’s head tilted to the side as if she were giving the question thought, but she didn’t stop walking. “For a while.” She shrugged her shoulders, as though nothing further needed to be discussed regarding the matter. “Now, it’s time to focus on your power.”
I bit my lip and glanced at her back over my shoulder as she started off again. We walked through the streets, the moonlight casting everything in soft blue and gray shadows. A breeze blew softly in my hair, blowing strands around my cheeks and forehead.
Then we stopped at the edge of a large park, and I watched as Grandma began to climb onto the back of a horse. He snorted loudly as he neighed at the sight of her. I gasped and jumped back, almost losing my balance and falling backward off the wagon seat. The horses whinnied angrily as they backed away from her.
“Wait!” I cried as Grandma mounted the beast. Her hair flowed down behind her, making the most beautiful contrast with the darkness around us. She pulled her hood back, revealing her long, silver locks and bright red eyes. She stared at me with a coldness in her gaze that made the hairs on my body stand up.
The End