Veronika Grossman

Escort For The Witch


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angrily.

      She’s snapping back. So, everything isn’t as bad as it had seemed. We spent the rest of the class in silence, occasionally glancing at each other, not exchanging another word. After an endlessly long hour, the long-awaited bell rang, signaling the end of my mental torment. I stood up, stretched, yawned, and… Sabrina was looking at me as if she wanted to ask something.

      “What?” I couldn’t help but ask.

      “Nothing,” she hesitantly made her way to the exit. Rather hesitantly. What a day it’s been, huh? A real mess. I watched her miniature figure recede, trying to understand what was happening to her. Everything was different today. Sabrina was different. She was wearing baggy black sweatpants and a khaki hoodie. Old, worn-out sneakers adorned her feet. What’s wrong with her? She pulled the hood over her head, put on a leather jacket, and walked unsteadily down the corridor.

      Unable to think of anything smarter to do, I followed her. Then Claire dashed past me like a little tornado. Oh, this omnipresent Claire!

      “Hey, Jack!” she squealed and rushed on.

      I put on my coat, wrapped the scarf around my neck, and headed towards the exit, stopping by the girls and, pretending to be searching my pockets for a lighter.

      Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sabrina staring at me. After a moment’s thought, I concluded that if she wanted to talk to me, she’d find a way to swallow her pride and descend to the level of mere mortals. And until then, there was no need to worry. As I stepped outside, I overheard her telling Claire that she would be going home alone by tram today. “Since when does Sabrina take the tram home?” I wondered, heading towards my car. Well, it’s time to visit an old friend before he forgets my name altogether.

      I looked at the dark, overcast sky, and felt tiny drops of cold rain hitting my face.

      It’s hard to believe that just a few days ago New Orleans was a lush, sun-drenched oasis of endless celebration. Now, everything looked completely different. With the onset of fall, the city seemed deserted, turning into a gloomy and unfriendly place for the occasional curious onlooker; perfect setting for horror fans. And there was plenty of that kind of thing among the locals. For a dollar or two, everyone would tell you this or that house was haunted by previous owners who had died or vanished mysteriously. Everyone seemed to know where to find practicing Voodoo masters; everyone wanted to give you the Mardi Gras beads that were supposed to protect you from curses, hexes, and other nonsense that tourists are so eager to believe in.

      The rain picked up, and I quickly settled behind the wheel, brushing raindrops off my coat, starting the car, and once again glancing towards Sabrina. The girl

      stood aside, shifting from foot to foot, staring at me intently. Slowly, hesitantly, she approached the car and, without saying a word, got in beside me.

      Chapter 4

      Interrogation

      Through her passenger window Sabrina quietly watched the rain turn into a downpour. She sat motionless, occasionally and stealthily glancing in my direction, which was beginning to get on my nerves. I knew I was to have a conversation with Eric, and I wasn’t particularly fond of the mind games.

      “What mischief has he gotten into this time?” I asked.

      “What?” She gave me a distracted look and shivered.

      “What did he do this time – blew up a house? Forgot to turn on the lights coming back from another binge drinking session? And stop daydreaming, it annoys me.”

      Sabrina looked at me strangely but left my last remark uncommented.

      “No,” she began quietly. “You won’t believe it, but he was almost sober.”

      Was I hallucinating? Sober? Eric was almost sober?! So, that was the reason for the sudden change in the weather. It was Eric’s almost sober state, not a fiery greeting from my father.

      “Probably ran out of money,” I guessed. “Let me guess, you took advantage of the situation and decided to have a little chat?”

      “You know perfectly well I’m a lousy mentor,” Sabrina parried my question and stared out the window again.

      “Well, what’s the matter then?” I persisted. I was genuinely curious about what might have happened to bring about such colossal changes in Eric and his sister.

      “Some Mr. Murphy called him,” Sabrina said casually and glanced at me intently, apparently awaiting some extraordinary reaction.

      Paradoxically, her expectations were fully met. I gripped the steering wheel and clenched my teeth to stop a string of curses ready to come out of my mouth. Great.

      Now the picture was becoming clearer. Mr. Murphy – one of Grandpa’s old friends and, by the way, the man who had made sure that all reports about the De Manshand witches, and witches in general, ended up directly in his hands.

      “And…?” I tried to sound as casual as possible, vaguely imagining what Eric might have said, or rather, shouted at Mr. Murphy.

      “Eric looked at me in horror, and when he hung up, he grabbed his head so hard I was afraid he would pull out his hair. Then he sat down on the floor and stopped showing signs of life.”

      The girl fell silent, took a deep breath, and returned to look out the window. I rummaged in my pocket for cigarettes, lit one, and tried to steady my nerves. What if Eric had let something slip in a moment of folly? That could explain Sabrina’s change in behavior and…

      “You smoke too much, ” Sabrina said out of the blue.

      “What?” the tone of her voice made me stop mulling over Eric and look at her.

      “I said you smoke too much. It’s harmful. Not that I’m against cigarettes, it’s just that one day it might end badly.”

      “Oh, come on, Sabi! Since when do you care about my health?” I interrupted irritably.

      “I don’t wish death upon anyone, even such a sweetheart as you,” Sabrina smiled venomously and deliberately turned away from me. Judging by the tension in the air after her words, she was doing her best to hold back and refrain from saying any more venomous “compliments” to me. And to avoid saying something I myself might regret later, I tried to focus on the upcoming conversation with her wayward brother.

      Well, isn’t that something! Sabrina just said I smoke too much! Considering that truth might come out at any moment, if it hasn’t already, I should start smoking three, or even four cigarettes at once and as often as possible. And Eric…

      “So, what happened next?” I thought that our little chat about my health had distracted us from the problem at hand, and tried to steer the conversation back to find out some details.

      “Oh, there was something else,” Sabrina smirked crookedly. “He started yelling something about what an idiot he was, then he began pacing the house, walking from room to room, kicking everything in his path. And finally, he locked himself in his bedroom,” suddenly the girl fell silent and held her breath. I, on the other hand, froze in anticipation of what would come next.

      “And then he started making a racket in his room. I mean, judging by the sounds, Eric was just crashing everything he could get his hands on. Then he growled something like ‘thanks, Grandpa,’ slammed the door, and left. I peeked into his room and was horrified. I’ve never seen such a mess in my life. My little brother managed to smash and break everything in sight! He returned in the early hours, completely drunk, barely able to walk. I went out to help him get to bed, and then Eric raised his head and looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.

      And then he said a strange phrase that I can’t get out of my head,” the girl slowly turned to look at me, giving me an unpleasant feeling as if a grenade had been waved in front of me, threatening to explode at any moment.

      My heart sank, and I swear I heard it land right there. Well, that’s it! She's going to pounce on me and tear me to shreds, slowly and painfully, drenching the interior of my beloved car with blood.

      “And