Sunday had finally come, and before the evening arrived and Jolene would be sitting down to dinner with a bunch of other privileged, she first made it out to her mother’s house on the coast. It was a promise she had made to herself, and she was finally keeping it. The small powder blue cottage sat along the cliffs of Benton, facing out to the shores and nearer to the tall red lighthouse.
It was just passed noon as Jolene arrived on foot to her childhood home. The cottage faced the water instead of the town, rather unfriendly she had always thought, and she had to walk around the old picket fence to the door. The sets of wooden wind chimes resonated across the front porch, a gentle breeze stirring them into song. Above the doorway was a small glass jar hanging from a hook nailed into a board, and inside it was a rolled up piece of paper. If Jolene had to guess, she’d say it was an incantation meant to dissuade or harm unwanted visitors. Her mother was every bit the shut-in she’d always been.
There was no doorbell or knocker, but there was a bit of string that swung freely from a delicate filigree pewter bell, and Jolene gave it a couple of fast rings before waiting. As she looked back over the side of the house, she could no longer make out the shapes of the town or any person nearby. It was only the crashing of the ocean that dominated her senses, and it caused her to feel a bit drowsy with the calm that spread through her.
A series of clicks and snaps from the unlatching of locks brought Jolene’s attention back to the door, and a moment later it opened to her mother’s rigid smile. Jo was always told she looked like the spitting image of her mom, but she presumed that was because her dad hadn’t been there as a comparison.
Doris Brock’s head of golden hair, which was twisted into a chignon at the base of her neck, had lightened to silver. It was something that caught Jolene off guard because she only ever communicated with her mother over the phone, and had not seen her face to face in years.
“I was wondering when you would pay me a visit. I had to hear it from the mailman that you were back,” said Doris, her brown eyes warm as she looked over Jolene. “Come step into the kitchen, I just finished making some soup.”
The door opened further by itself, and it wasn’t until Jolene stepped into the small hallway that she noticed the thin line of water swiveling upwards in the air. It seemed to move freely, but was actually by her mother’s accord, and Jolene watched the water splash into the wood of the door with enough force to shut it behind them. Her mother had always been remiss about using magic in their tiny cottage, and it seemed she kept up with the tradition.
“That’s a neat trick,” Jolene commented.
Doris gave a derisive laugh that made the lines around her eyes more prominent. “That’s not a simple trick, Jolene. It’s an extension of the mind of a water speaker, and it has taken me years to achieve complete control.”
‘Off to a great start already‘, Jolene thought. It wasn’t that she wasn’t close with her mother—admittedly having a long distance relationship with her helped—but sometimes the flippant comments about her lack of understanding for their privilege was frustrating.
“Sorry, my mistake.”
Doris was already walking ahead to the kitchen, her ankle length dress fluttering behind her. It was a sea-foam green, and the color reminded Jolene of the pick-up truck Maeve’s father used to drive.
“Oh, don’t apologize, no harm was done,” Her mother said. With a wave of her hand, she banished the wisp of water back into the air where it evaporated. “It’s not something I’d expect you to know anyway.”
Jolene frowned, following her inside. Not much had changed in the cottage from what Jolene could make out beyond the clutter. To the untrained eye it would appear a mess, but Jolene knew otherwise. Her mother managed to stack everything in a précised location that had a purpose, and so that she may find whatever she was searching for once more. Shoes were kept under the bench beside the stair rail, one pair for every type of weather. The tall, black rubber boots doubled as an umbrella holder in the corner. Wicker baskets of all sizes could be found everywhere in the house, some hanging from the ceiling and others lined up against the walls. What was kept inside of them was always a mystery that could be answered by lifting the tops.
The entire cottage interior was painted an oyster white, and every room had a clock on the wall. Not one of them ever kept the correct time. The hallway to the right led to the bathroom, and Jolene’s childhood bedroom. Upstairs was the master suit where her mother slept, though she often used to say to Jolene that it made her fret to be on a separate floor away from her.
“Why wouldn’t I know?” Jolene asked her mother once they settled into the kitchen. She could smell the crab bisque simmering on the stove, and she was suddenly glad she came on an empty stomach. The creamy broth was bubbling in a pot, thick and rich with flavor.
“Have you been reading up on water speaking?” Doris said suddenly, turning to her with a serious face.
“No,” said Jolene with a sigh.
“Then that is why.” Doris turned back to the stove, ladling out a bowl of soup for each of them into coastal cookware with blue illustrations of marine life etched on them. The ones with the octopus tentacles used to frighten Jolene as a child. “Crackers?”
“Yes please,” She answered her mother.
Doris dug around in the cupboard to the right of her, pulling down a box of saltines. She carried their lunch on a tray over to the breakfast nook by the window, Jolene joining her on the opposite bench. The nook was beside the bay window, facing out over the rocky cliffs to the shoreline.
“Do you miss this view?” Doris asked, noticing Jolene’s stare out the window.
“It is wonderful,” Jolene said. Even when it rained she used to sit there on her afternoons, either with a snack or homework. It was the one thing she recalled enjoying in Benton.
“You’re not visiting for a glance at the water though,” Her mother said while crumbling crackers into her soup. “I heard you’re staying with Clare over the summer because of what happened, and I think that it’s a wonderful gesture. You’re not thinking of making the move permanent though, are you?”
Jo frowned. “No, but it’s easy to see you wouldn’t be glad if I was.”
“It’s not that, Jolene. I just remember how much you hated being here, and I’m proud that you finally got your chance to get out. I just don’t want to see that all change because you’re back with your friends.”
Her face softened, and Jolene felt a bubble of guilt at the lie she’d been keeping. “Well, I don’t know if you’d call it getting out. I only live up in North Shore.”
Doris paused with her spoon halfway to her lips before setting it back down in her bowl. She turned a displeased look on her daughter, one that had Jo squirming in place. “North Shore? I thought you’d made it up to Boston.”
“Not for lack of trying. I couldn’t find stable work, or afford a place of my own. Between bouncing around jobs and unfriendly roommates, I’d finally had enough.”
“You gave up,” Doris sniffed, appearing more distressed by Jolene’s story.
“I – well you don’t have to say it like that. I made a choice, and it worked out pretty well for me. I have a stable job, a place to live, and I’ve traveled to places I’d always dreamed of seeing. That’s not a bad compromise the way I see it,” said Jo, shrugging her way out of the conversation.
Her mother’s frown lessened to enlightenment, but Jolene could still see the undercurrent of disappointment lurking. “Traveled, huh? I’d love to hear, and even see pictures.”
It came as no surprise to Jo that her mother wasn’t an active member of the online community. Instead, she’d had all of her trip photos organized into albums according to date, just to share with her mother. But all of those boxes were back home in North Shore, along with the rest of her belongings.
“I’ll have to remember to bring them with me next time I come back to Benton for a visit.”
“You will visit sometimes, won’t you? After you go back of course,” Said Doris.
“I’ll try harder. I know I haven’t exactly kept up my part after leaving,” Jo said regretfully. “I even took this long to come by. I’m sorry, mom.”
“Oh don’t be. You had your reasons for staying away,” Doris said with a tight smile. “However, I do wonder what brought you here today finally. Why the sudden change of mind for a visit, other than my cooking?”
Well there went her excuse, out the window and over the cliffs. It looked like she’d have to get straight to the point. “You asked before, if I’d been reading up on water speaking. How would you feel if I said I wanted to start?”
Doris blinked and sat back into the bench of the nook, the wood creaking along with her bones. The frailty in her face became clearer as she studied her daughter. “Jolene, are you asking for my help in magic?”
“Not to be reliant on you,” Jolene said quickly to clarify. “But I needed to begin somewhere, and who would I know that’s better? I’m constantly amazed by the things you can do with the privilege, but I never took the steps to follow.”
“I know. You sat silently and watched,” Her mother recalled. “Observation is a talent too, not to be discredited, but magic cannot simply be mimicked. Are you certain you want to go forward with this?”
She thought of her friends, and of the strange dinner that would likely take place in Clare’s residence that she was due for later. Everyone had something to offer, even if their skills were lacking. Jo didn’t want to be the one to come up short. “Definitely yes, I want to know more.”
“Can I ask what brought on this sudden craving to study? You’d never expressed any interest to me before, when I would have gladly took you on as an apprentice.”
It was that expressed willingness that had driven Jo away from her mother’s enthusiasm to teach. She wanted to be a daughter first, not a pupil, and practicing by her mother’s side would have blurred that line. Doris Brock committed to a part with admirable tenacity, but it wasn’t something Jolene needed to see through. She had only one parent after all, and admittedly she was selfish about keeping it that way.
“It’s being back here in Benton. With Clare and Maeve, I don’t need to keep this secret about myself. I’ve been away from it so long that I almost forgot it was a part of myself. The North Shore is a barren place of magic, and I started to adapt to the same normalcy.”
“I might have guessed it was those friends of yours. You’re not thinking of joining a coven, are you?”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Jolene said. For all her mother’s love and wonder for all things magical, the principle of the coven was the one thing viewed as unfavorable. “It’s just us wanting to dabble a bit. A pre-mid-life crisis of the privileged maybe. I’m sure Maeve’s parents would love the news of her taking up with a coven though.”
“I always liked the Donohues. It’s a shame they left,” Doris said. “So long as this bit of dabbling isn’t a gateway to a coven, then I’ll help. Do be careful of when and where you attempt any spells. You never know who may be watching.”
“Of course,” Jo agreed to placate her mother’s paranoia. Not that she was quick to shirk on responsibility either, and she was still angry at Alfie for telling Simon about her.
Doris left the table, and Jolene strained her ears, listening to her mother’s steps thumping about in the loft above. There was a brief pause of silence, and then a dull thud of something heavy landing on the floor. A muffled curse could be heard falling from her mother’s lips, and Jo smiled.
Swinging towards the window, Jolene watched the water swelling and crashing on the shore outside. She still had no clue about this half-baked idea of a dinner that Clare had decided on. Despite knowing many of the names of those posing as guests, none of them were well acquainted. Still, Jolene had the tingles of excitement in her gut that had been absent for years.
“– I have a few here that should be at your level –”
“Huh?” Jolene heard her mother’s voice just as she was coming back into the kitchen. “Those are all for me?”
Doris Brock had her arms filled with books of all sizes. Some on the top of the stack were so small, Jolene thought they could fit into one of her palms. The covers were dressed either in moleskin or vinyl, and all well preserved from years spent on the shelf. Jolene knew they were dusted frequently.
“Of course they are, dear,” Doris said kindly, setting them before Jolene on the table. “When you’re finished with these, you can return them for more advanced copies. I expect them to be in mint condition.”
“I think I can manage that,” Said Jolene. Her hands trailed over the spines of the many titles, wondering how she would be able to fill her head with all of this knowledge as soon as possible.
“Do you have a plan on where to start?”
Jolene noticed the eager look on her mother’s face, and she didn’t want to disappoint. “I think with this one,” She said, pointing to the thick, black leather-bound book at the base of the stack, titled ‘A History of Thirteen‘. It was familiar to Jolene because her mother used to read her those stories.
“Beginning with your basics, that’s my girl,” Doris said smiling broadly.
“There’s some stuff in there that I want to remember better,” said Jolene. Looking back at the pile, she suddenly remembered the title of a book that was absent. “Mom, do you own a copy of ‘The Critter Field Guide’ by Lobelia Terrazas?”
She gave Jolene a pensive look. “I do, but it’s out back. I was conducting my own bit of research.”
“Oh well, I wouldn’t want to take it from you if you need it,” Jolene said.
“No,” Her mother said with a shake of her head. “No, I’ve read it enough to have the information I need memorized by now. I would have never expected this to be an area of interest for you though, unless you’ve taken an avid interest in creature training that I’m unaware of?”
Jolene breathed a laugh. “Definitely not. I’m actually curious because Maeve had a pukwudgie in her shed a few days ago.”
“Goodness, did she?” Doris’s face lit up with excitement and hope. “Did you see it?”
“I did. He looked like a garden-gnome crossed with a porcupine. I thought he was ugly-cute to be honest, but I wouldn’t say that to Maeve after what happened to her leg. She got sprayed by its quills.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. The girl always was a bit boorish, and probably upset the creature.”
“My idea of coaxing it out with water didn’t help,” Jolene said, hanging her head.
“Oh, Jo, you really do have a lot to learn,” Her mother said, taking on a pitying look. “Come down to the shore with me, and I’ll give you that book. I want to show you something.”
“Another surprise?” Jolene said, standing to follow her out the back door.
“Just a little project I’ve been working on. You’ll see.”
Jolene felt light with intrigue as she trailed after her mother. There was a path around back from the cottage that led down to the shore. It was a steep dirt trail through the tall grass. Jolene used to blaze down it as a child, taking her plastic bucket with her to collect shells and build sandcastles. If the wind was blowing, it made it difficult to find the path because the long grass would conceal it. It was breezy today, but her mother spotted exactly where they needed to go immediately.
“Careful now,” Doris called back to her. “I doubt you’re as nimble as you used to be, living up in North Shore.”
Jolene heeded the warning. Her agility wasn’t up to par like before, for as soon as she began down the slope her whole body wanted to lurch forward. The dirt skidded under her shoes, and she nearly took to grabbing on to her mother’s shoulders to straighten herself. She flapped her arms about in the air in an attempt to keep upright.
“Such a beautiful day,” Said her mother. There was a beat of humor in her voice, probably because of Jolene’s struggle behind her.
Jolene was eager to be back on flat land, and grew relieved as they made it down between the rocks and the sand of the shore. She ran down the last stretch of the hill, her feet sinking into the soft sand as she slowed to a halt.
“You made it down unscathed.”
Jolene smiled at her mother before taking a quick glance back up the cliff to the cottage. Hopefully she’d have just as easy a time getting back up there. “Alright, what did you want to show me?”
Doris pointed towards the shallow shore water. A pungent fragrance was wafting over from that direction, and as Jolene drew closer she could see a large ring of white flowers floating on the foam surface. An old foldout chair sat in the sand, and beside it was a closed book and a copper cauldron.
“My little project,” Her mother declared joyfully. “Can you guess what it is?”
‘A bad idea‘, Jolene thought to herself. “It’s a trap of some kind?”
“I’m trying to catch a Kelpie. I’ve been reading all about what lures them, but I’ve encountered a few problems. For one thing, they aren’t as likely to surface in daylight, but they detest the artificial light even more. How am I supposed to get one close, with that damned lighthouse?”
“I see your point,” said Jolene. She crouched down beside the book she’d been inquiring about while glancing inside the purple-stained cauldron. “What was in this?”
“I was trying my luck at brewing pheromones of the Kelpie. I even put a few drops of it into the water, but it was no good. I’m afraid I don’t quite have the same touch as a purifier, and my end result wasn’t up to snuff.”
“Hey,” Said Jolene brightly, coming up with an idea. “For your light problem, what about Lucerna’s tears?”
“Jolene,” Her mother started. “If I can’t make a simple pheromone to perfection, I’ll never be able to make something of that potency. And where did you hear of that brew?”
“From – Mallory, she’s apprenticing at the apothecary,” She said, quickly catching herself from saying Theresa’s name in front of her mother. “I thought it was a simple potion to make.”
“Simple for a purifier. I’m glad you’re making some friends, though, even if she works for a resurgent,” Doris replied thinly.
“A regressive resurgent,” Jolene defended. She felt some loyalty to Theresa after she had healed Maeve’s leg, and for the kindness she showed. “Theresa is a regressive resurgent. She spends her time working on her purification skills.”
“I suppose that’s better.” Jolene wasn’t so sure her mother meant that. From her stiffly crossed arms to the haughty upturn of her nose, her disdain was clear to see.
“You still haven’t warmed to the resurgents I see,” Jolene said.
“Of course,” She exclaimed back. “Don’t ask me, you know why Jolene. A slippery bunch that has proven time and again, they can’t be trusted. The Sokolskys, they’re no different. ”
Maybe if she provided a better explanation, then Jolene would stop asking. Whatever it was, her mother wasn’t going to divulge it anytime soon, so Jolene didn’t press the matter. She swallowed hard, and picked up the creature book.
“So I can borrow this then?”
“Yes, take it,” Her mother said firmly. “I think you’ll find more use for it than I have.”
Jolene stepped up to her mother and embraced her tightly. In return, she was given a quick peck on the cheek from her mom, who squeezed her back with bone-bruising strength. For such a tiny woman, she packed the ferocity of an ogre.
“I need to get going,” Jolene told her as they parted.
“Don’t let me keep you,” She said. “Thank you for stopping by. And good luck with your dabbling. Don’t forget to remind your friends about what I told you; exercise caution before using your magic. There’s eyes everywhere, and who knows who else is watching.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them,” Jolene said with a kind grin.
Her mother then reached her hand out and brushed a stray lock of Jolene’s hair behind her ear. “My darling daughter. I miss you so much now that you’re gone.”
“Oh mom,” Jolene said, her mouth suddenly going dry. “I miss you too, you know.”
“I know,” Her mother whispered. “I’m sorry … I’m old and emotional … and I need to find another way to catch a kelpie. You’d better get going before those friends of yours start to wonder.”
Doris gave a sigh, muttering to herself as she turned back to the water. Slowly the foam around the ring of flowers dissipated with a flick of her wrist. All was still, and she bent down in the sand, touching her hand to the wet surface. A white thread of magic swirled from her fingers, lowering into the water in the shape of a tuna. In the blink of an eye the conjured fish was gone, darting out into the wide open ocean, perhaps in search of a kelpie.
Jolene stared a moment longer at her mother, in awe of her confidence and prowess of their privilege. She turned away, wanting that for herself. There was a tall pile of books waiting for her back up in the cottage on the cliff, and she started back up the uneven trail. Awaiting in those pages, Jolene hoped was the knowledge to release her own greatness.
H.R.Peterson 