Broomstick, page 15
“It’s Satan, Dr. Johansen,” the girl insists.
“Satan. The devil?” asks Alondra. Then she walks pensively with her head down. “Hmm. I posit there’s quite a lot in this world we don’t understand. And misunderstanding leads to fear. After all, it’s the Buddha that teaches that ignorance is evil. Perhaps our ignorance drives our fear. Perhaps you fear this image because of a void in your knowledge.”
I raise my hand. Maddie grabs it again and I tug it back up. I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into me, but it’s like I want to save Alondra from the negative vibe in the lecture hall. I’m gonna say that it’s just a stupid picture, that’s all.
Alondra looks up and smiles again. “Yes, Madison.”
Not her.
I watch my lovely friend turn pale. She shakes her head and mutters, “Huh?”
“What are your thoughts, Madison?”
No, me.
“Well, a lot of us are Christians, Dr. Johansen,” Maddie says. “Some are taught in Sunday school to reject evil…to reject images like this.”
Maddie is hardly defending Alondra. Alondra should have picked me.
“As schoolchildren,” Alondra says, “you should hate representations of evil. But as adults, you should face them and try to understand them. Is this evil? Is it the devil? Satan?”
“Evil is evil,” shouts another student. “The devil is the devil.”
“Good,” Alondra says with a nod. “I’ve gotten under your skin.”
“I like it!” shouts another idiot.
The hall laughs.
“You will read the historical facts that are known about the above image and write an essay on it,” says Alondra with a nod. “I want all of your honest opinions. Search within yourself. If evil is evil, as you just said, Monica, then tell me again. But read and incorporate facts into your essay. You have one week to write the essay—on Baphomet, the historical origins, and your thoughts on the subject. I want your honest opinion. Obviously, I will not judge your religious views on the matter. But I do want you to search within yourself.”
“But you can’t separate religion from it,” says Monica.
“Then don’t,” Alondra says with a shrug. Then she switches off the image above her.
“But how are we supposed to be objective?” asks another.
Alondra just smiles. She’s a master of getting our attention. That’s why she always packs the lecture hall.
“And now for the more mundane,” she says with a chuckle. The image above changes to a caricature of a man with a bird beak, goggles, and a long gown. That shocks us too, being hardly “mundane.” “Turn your book to page sixty-five, and we’ll start a discourse on the fourteenth-century Black Death. Soon you’ll have to give me historical facts and thoughts about this too.”
19
Friday Night
The coven meets at around eight o’clock at night. I prepare myself for another drug-filled hallucinogenic adventure but find instead an ordinary campfire experience, with the twelve of us sitting in a circle around the bonfire and just talking about the past week. In fact, the only thing particularly magical about the evening is a few introductory incantations spoken by Mira. And our clothes—we’re all wearing long black robes with hoods, like ancient druids.
Mira, as creepy as always, stands up in a long velvet robe and throws colored smoke before the fire, saying things that aren’t in English. I ask what she’s saying, and Maddie tells me that it’s a language Mira made up. She entered it in her Book of Spells. Then Tammy tells us about her new boyfriend. I feel Bryce’s stare as she talks about this new student, who just arrived from Maine. I meet Bryce’s eyes and he looks away, but he has a smirk on his face. And, of course, Maddie notices and nods at me with a gaping smile.
Then Alondra asks me about my Book of Spells, Broomstick, and how far along I am in writing it. I gulp nervously, hating to speak aloud, even to the small group in the coven, and tell her, feeling a little ashamed, that I haven’t written anything yet. She surprises me with a nod and smile and asks if I read what was already written. I hesitantly shake my head. She raises an eyebrow at me and then moves on to Frida. Mira looks over and is seriously pissed at me. But before she can admonish me, Frida tells us about a sweater she’s knitting. It’s such a boring topic that I’m shocked at the interest everyone seems to have. Hannah’s next, and she talks about her cat being sick.
I start looking around for a drink or something.
It’s at this exact moment that Alondra makes me nervous again. She turns to me with her penetrating green eyes and says, “Windstorm, you’re new to the coven. Tell us what you remember about your initiation.”
Windstorm? I had forgotten that was my coven name.
I don’t remember much of anything. Except everyone undressing. Was I undressed? I think so. And then flying.
“I remember seeing the school from above. I was flying like a bird.”
She nods. “Do you remember what you felt in your chest? Do you recall an energy as you flew?”
“Uh…no.”
“I flew with her,” Bryce says. Then he looks at me with an encouraging smile. I suddenly remember holding his hands, soaring like a bird. But how could he possibly remember that? Was it not the drug, the mandrake root? “We flew twice over the school.”
“Yeah, but not on a broomstick,” I say.
“Do not joke about our sacred ceremony!” snaps Mira. “This isn’t a joke, Cadence.”
“I’m not trying to make fun of it. I’m just—”
“It’s all right, Cadence,” Alondra says. Then she turns to Mira. “Lighten up, Mira. You could learn from Cadence’s sense of humor.”
“Bullshit.” Mira stands up. I’m surprised how angry she is. “Cadence should never have been let in. She doesn’t believe.”
“Sit down, Mira,” Alondra says, cocking her head. “Stop it. She’s a sister now.”
“Fuck her, Alondra,” says Mira.
Alondra stands up. “No, fuck you. Sit down,” she snaps. I’m shocked by her reaction. Mira throws her hood off, shakes out her dark hair, and sits back down, folding her arms and glaring at me.
“Each of your sisters has no right to disrespect you, Windstorm,” Alondra says to me, “but over the years since I started my coven, it’s been common for it to take time for all of my sisters to get along. I trust you.” Alondra’s sharp eyes land on Mira. “And so will Mira.”
“It’s all right,” I say.
“Since we’re all pals, sister,” Mira says, “why doesn’t Dr. Reardon tell our new initiate about his views on religion? Then he can expound on his actions and how he helps the coven find true love.”
“Really, Raven,” Alondra says, shaking her head. “What are you doing?”
I learned from Maddie that Mira’s coven name is Raven. And Maddie’s name is Blackbird. The boys do not have coven names.
“I do not believe Windstorm will stay Windstorm, High Priestess,” Mira replies. “I think she will desert us when she truly understands what we do and what happens in our ceremonies.”
“What do you do?” I ask her.
Mira leans forward with a sly smile. “We sacrifice little children, drink blood, and fuck virgins.”
“Get out, Raven!” shouts Alondra. “Enough of this.”
“That’s what the bitch thinks.”
Maddie jumps up. “What is your problem, Mira?”
“I don’t want Little Bo-Peep here. She’s a Hawthorne. So what? Escoba’s blood or not, High Priestess, she’s still a goddamn Little Bo-Peep. And just because her mommy passed doesn’t give her a ticket to our sacred club. The minute she gets over her mommy’s death, she’ll—”
“You bitch!” I shout, jumping up.
Alondra stands up. As she rises, she turns to Mira and I can swear there’s a flicker of light in her eye. Maybe it’s a reflection of the flames. I’m not sure. But then, under a cloudless sky, there’s thunder. And Mira, of all people, looks at Alondra with sudden terror.
“Get out! Leave now, Raven!” cries Alondra.
Mira squints at me, but she rushes off into the house.
Alondra takes a deep breath and sits back down. Everyone else sits.
My heart is thumping hard in my chest. I want to fight Mira, I’m so mad. Maddie takes my hand and gently prompts me to sit back down.
“Raven’s been through a lot, Windstorm,” says Alondra.
“I don’t understand,” I reply. “I thought she wanted me to join?”
“That was what I asked her to say to you.”
“Raven doesn’t want anyone to join,” Bryce says, looking over at me with a wink. “She’s a witch—a real one.”
“Anyway, Cadence,” says Alondra, “you said you recall flying. Did you feel the chakra? The energy? The energy coursing through your chest and back?”
I look at her, confused.
“There are chakras within your body. The mandragora sometimes causes the chakras to become more focused. Not only might you feel as if you’re flying, you can learn to control the energy along your spine, and great magic can come of it. This is why we share our experiences—so I can help you channel nature’s energy. You can take the power that is grounded below and let it rise and flow through you. This is the point of our meeting tonight. Just as I told you when you first came to my house, we study our energies. Part of our coven’s purpose, besides caring for each other, is to try to understand magic and our place on Earth. When you harness these energies, you will find great power.”
“Like you just did with the weather, High Priestess?” Tammy asks Alondra.
“I didn’t do a thing, Tammy. I was upset. Nature did what it did. Not me.”
But no one believes her. Everyone thinks the thunder is a divine example of our coven leader’s power.
“What else, Windstorm?” asks Alondra. “What else do you recall from your initiation? Or what other questions do you have for me? All is open now. You are one of us. You can ask anything you wish.”
I look over at Dr. Reardon. He’s been rubbing the whiskers on his chin in thought, even during the fight with Raven. He always seems stoic, unemotional, and pensive. He never says anything. He just watches.
“Okay,” I say. “What did Raven mean about you, Dr. Reardon?”
Dr. Reardon looks over at Alondra, and she nods as if to allow him to share his secrets. It’s the first time I’ve seen Alondra exert her leadership over him. Apparently, he defers to her just like everyone else.
“I believe in Satanism, Windstorm. I believe in the devil and worship him.”
Well, Mira was right. I develop butterflies in my stomach and feel sick. Maddie turns to me, concerned.
“Do you all believe this?” I ask, turning to Maddie. Maddie shakes her head. “Are you Satan worshippers?”
“We’ve already had this discussion when you first came to my house, Cadence,” Alondra answers. “You are an admitted atheist. Why should you fear a man who hates Jesus Christ?”
“Because he worships evil,” I say. Dr. Reardon laughs. That doesn’t make me feel any better. I turn to Alondra. “Is this why you mentioned this in class—because you worship the devil?”
“No, Cadence. I do not believe in Christianity; therefore, I hold no fear of someone who believes in an enemy of Christ.”
“But Satan is evil.”
“Not to Bill,” Alondra says. “Is that not right, Bill?”
“In the Western world, Satan is evil.” Dr. Reardon smiles at me. He’s a socially awkward man, and his grin doesn’t make me feel any better. “But I don’t believe that, Windstorm. I worship the balance of nature.”
“Dr. Reardon is the only one worshipping the devil in our coven,” Alondra says. “And I let him. It’s his right, just as any one of you has a right to worship anything you like. In fact, I believe that his left-hand energy balances mine. His dark magic and my white magic, my lux alba and his lux tenebris, create a very powerful magical combination. Just like Baphomet holds both the sun and the moon and represents a great dichotomy. As long as you follow the beliefs of the coven—that nature rules our lives—I allow our members to embrace other religious or cultist beliefs. In fact, I even allow Frida and Helen to continue their worship of the cross. But it is nature that rules the world. It is nature—the sun and the moon, the seasons, the stars—that ultimately rule us, Windstorm. We are animals, human animals, and when you accept this and discover the power that lies within, you will be a great witch. It is why we celebrate our nakedness in our rituals. It is why we do not eat meat until we sacrifice sacred lambs that we slaughter and eat together.
“We live in a world of plastic-wrapped foods and cold electronic devices. I consider it the height of hypocrisy when a Christian zealot argues with me about our beliefs when they happily live out their fake lives in a confused modern world. I will not force my beliefs or actions on anyone. I encourage you to eat vegetables and save consuming meat for the sacrifice. Just as I encourage you to remain celibate and only perform sexual acts during sacred ceremonies. If you follow this advice, your power will grow. But I do not force any of this on you. I do ask, however, that you allow for free thought and action from your sisters, our Great Wizard, and our Wizard Disciple.”
There’s a pause; everyone in the coven is silent and thoughtful. It’s like they’re all contemplating whether they’re good witches. Not good as in heavenly, but good as in doing what the High Priestess is asking of them. Like only fucking during cult witch ceremonies.
Well, my thoughts are that I still don’t trust them. In fact, she had my attention until she mentioned that celibacy and sex stuff. Maybe Mira’s right. Maybe I am too skeptical of magic and the coven.
“Windstorm, Mira’s doubt stems from knowing Bill’s worship would disturb you,” she continues, as if reading my mind. “She hoped it would drive you away from us. I hope, just as I said in class—as you mentioned—that being open about these fears will make you think. Make you stop fearing. That will make you stronger.”
“I believe that worshipping Satan and the devil is evil, Alondra,” I say.
I’m surprised at everyone’s response to my statement. I turn to Maddie, but she just looks down pensively (and for her to be reflective about anything freaks me out a little). Then I look at Bryce and he looks down too. The rest of them avert their eyes. Reardon is glaring at me. It’s almost as if I made a racist statement. Apparently, being a part of the coven trumps everything else. In fact, I think that if I express my distaste for Dr. Reardon’s beliefs again, I’ll be more of an outcast than Mira.
Alondra looks at me and smiles gently. “Let us hold hands,” she says. Everyone does, gathered around the fire. “We have had two disturbances trying to disrupt our love tonight”—Two? Am I one of them?—“but our love is strong. The chain cannot be broken. We shall rejoice in our time together for the rest of the evening and stop dwelling on our differences.”
And that’s it.
My friends Maddie and Bryce stop looking down and seem to glow as they grasp the hands of those beside them. My hand is placed in Maddie’s on one side and Hannah’s on the other.
Then we sit basking before the warm fire.
By ten o’clock, our meeting is done. I’m relieved that I’m not taking any more drugs, but I’m not surprised. I’m guessing that even if they’d had another mandrake-infested party, no one would have forced it on me.
The coven isn’t about drugs. It’s not about nakedness or sex. It’s not about devil worshipping. I realize now it’s about friendship and love…I think.
Speaking of love, Bryce invites me to watch a movie at his place. I feel like it’s a bit forward, but I’m still relieved over my boring coven meeting. So I accept.
But I’m underdressed. Beneath the black cloak—which I dispense with, on Alondra’s couch, on my way out the door—I’m wearing a long-sleeved red T-shirt and gray pants. Of course I’d never tell Bryce, but the gray pants are workout clothes.
He drives me, in a beat-up gray BMW, to his apartment, on the south side of Hawthorne University. It’s a small apartment in a building with only five flats. Bryce opens the door for me, foolishly chivalrous but cute, walks me up a few stone steps, and opens the door.
Bryce’s place is simple. It’s one large room, with a kitchen on one end and the bedroom on the other. In the center is a small “living room” with a large-screen TV. He points to the couch. “Have a seat.” Then he rummages through cabinets in the kitchen. His apartment smells like fish or chicken or something. I can’t quite make it out, but I’m guessing it’s yesterday’s meal.
“Want something to drink?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“What’s your taste? I’ve got beer.” He opens the refrigerator. “And…beer.”
I chuckle. “Beer’s fine.”
“Great. I got that.”
He opens two and hands me one. He sits beside me and turns on the TV. The set is already turned to his game system. I see a flash of some gun shooting game. Then he switches to a TV channel.
“What were you playing?”
“Hmm?”
“I saw a game. What do you play?”
Does it really matter? No, but I really don’t know what to talk about. I’m lacking the courage I had at Alondra’s, and I’m beginning to ask myself why I agreed to come to his house late at night.
“Nothing, Cadence.” He turns on a random movie. A bunch of guys are running out of a bank, being chased by the police. I think it’s a superhero movie I’ve seen. He just sits near me and watches.
I sip some beer.
“Feeling better?” he asks.
Huh?
“You feeling better?” he repeats. Then he sits up straighter on his very cushiony brown corduroy sofa. “I mean, you know, when Gilda lost her brother, it was like we all did. We all felt for her. Of course Gilda was already an initiate. But your mother, I mean—”
“Forget it, Bryce.” I haven’t thought of her. The coven has been a big distraction. And now I don’t want to.
