"Of course they don't," I said, thinking of Cal, and his mother, and my friends.
"But we can't help feeling afraid," said my dad. "I saw a whole town that had been wiped out. I read about the burned barn. I talked to those men in Ireland. If that's what witchcraft entails, we don't want you to have any part of it."
We sat there in silence for a few minutes while I tried to absorb this story. I felt overwhelmed with emotion, but most of my anger toward them had melted away.
"I don't know what to say." I took a deep breath. "I'm glad you told me all this. And maybe I wouldn't have understood it when I was younger. But I still think you should have told me about the adoption part earlier. I should have known." My parents nodded, and my mom sighed heavily. "But I can't help feeling that Wicca is not connected to that—disaster in Ireland. It's just—a weird coincidence. I mean, Wicca is a part of me. And I know I'm a witch. But the kind of stuff we do couldn't cause anything like what you described."
Mom looked like she wanted to ask more but didn't want to hear the answers. She kept silent.
"How come you were able to have Mary K.?" I asked.
"I don't know," Mom said in a low voice. "It just happened. And after Mary K., I've never gotten pregnant again. God wanted me to have two daughters, and you've both brought untold joy into our lives. I care about you both so much that I can't stand to think of any danger coming to you. Which is why I want you to leave witchcraft alone. I'm begging you to leave witchcraft alone."
She started crying, so of course I did, too. It was all too much to take in.
"But I can't!" I wailed, blowing my nose. "It's a part of me. It's natural. It's like having brown hair or big feet. It's just—me."
"You don't have big feet," my dad objected.
I couldn't help laughing through my tears.
"I know you love me and want what's best for me," I said, wiping my eyes. "And I love you and don't want to hurt you or disappoint you. But it's like you're asking me not to be Morgan anymore." I looked up.
"We want you to be safe!" my mom said strongly, meeting my eyes. "We want you to be happy."
"I'm happy," I said. "And I try to be safe all the time." The music went off across the hall, and we heard Mary K. enter the bathroom that connected her room to mine. The water ran, and we heard her brushing her teeth. Then the door shut again and it was quiet.
I looked at my parents. "Thank you for telling me," I said. "I know it was hard, but I'm glad that you did. I needed to know. And I'll think about what you said, I promise."
Mom sighed, and she and my dad looked at each other. They stood, and we all hugged each other for the first time in a week.
"We love you," said Mom into my hair.
"I love you, too," I said.
CHAPTER 16
Hostile
December 15, 1982
We're getting ready to celebrate Christmas for the first time ever. We're going to the Catholic church in town. The people are very nice. It's funny, all the Christmas stuff—it's so close to Yule. The Yule log, the colors red and green, the mistletoe. Those things have always been a part of my life. It feels strange to be practicing Catholics instead of what we were.
This town is nice, much greener than New York City. I can see nature here; I can smell rain. It's not a bunch of ugly gray boxes full of unhappy people racing around.
Over and over I find myself wanting to say a little spell for this or that—to get rid of slugs in the garden, to bring more sunshine, to help bread rise. But I don't. My whole life is in black and white, and that's the way is has to be now. No spells, no magick, no rituals, no rhymes. Not here. Not ever.
Anyways, I love our wee house. It's lovely and easy for me to keep clean. We're saving up to buy our own washing machine. Imagine! Everyone in America has their own.
I can't forget the horror this year. It is seared on my soul forever. But I am glad to be in the place, safe, with Angus.
— M.R.
"Are you going to the game on Friday?" Tamara asked me.
I kicked off my clogs and stowed them in the bottom of my gym locker. As usual, the air in the girls' locker room smelted like a mixture of sweat, baby powder, and shampoo. Tamara pulled on her gym shorts and sat down to put on her socks.
"I don't know," I answered, pulling my shirt over my head. Quickly I wriggled into my gym clothes and saw Tamara's eyes glance at the small silver pentacle around my neck. She looked away, and I wasn't sure if she got the significance: that it was a symbol of my commitment to Wicca and to Cal. I bent down to tie my sneakers and didn't say anything about it
Across the room Bree stood next to her own locker, changing. Since Raven was a senior, she was in a different class. It was unusual to see Bree alone.
Bree's eyes met mine for a moment and their coldness shocked me. It was hard to believe that I hadn't been able to share my huge news with her: finding out I was adopted, the story of my birth parents. We had always promised to tell each other everything, and until this school year we had. She'd told me about when she'd lost her virginity and tried pot for the first time and how she'd found out about her mom's affair. My own confidences had been much more banal.
"Guess who asked me out," said Tamara, pulling her tight curls into a puffy ponytail.
"Who?" I asked, quickly braiding my hair in two long braids so I looked like an Irish Pocahontas.
Tamara lowered her voice. "Chris Holly."
My eyes got wide. "Get out! What did you say?" I whispered.
"I said no! Number one, I'm sure he only asked because he's flunking trig and needs help, and number two, I saw what a jerk he was with Bree." Her dark brown eyes looked at me. "Are you two talking yet?"
I shook my head.
So did Tamara. I shoved my feet into my sneakers and tied them.
"So did you go after Cal?" she asked.
"No," I said honestly. "I mean, I was crazy about him, but I knew Bree liked him. I just assumed they'd end up together. But then… he picked me." Shrugging, I stuck my braids down the back of my T-shirt so they wouldn't whip anyone in the face. Then Ms. Lew, our PE teacher, blew her whistle. Ms. Lew loved that whistle.
"It's raining out, girls!" she called in her clear voice. "So give me five laps around the gym!"
We all groaned, as expected, then started to jog out of the locker room. Tamara and I quickly passed Bree, who was going as slowly as she possibly could.
"Witch," I heard Bree mutter as I jogged past. My cheeks burned, and I pretended not to hear her.
"She called you a bitch," Tamara whispered angrily, jogging next to me. "I can't believe she's being such a bad sport about this. I mean, they didn't even go out. Besides, she can get any other guy she wants. Does she really have to have them all?"
Hooting and whistling assaulted our ears as all the junior boys ran out of their locker room and started jogging in the opposite direction. I could hear the rain as it hit the small windows set high in the gym walls.
"Hey, baby!"
"Looking good!"
I rolled my eyes as the boys jogged past. Robbie made a face at me as he passed, and I laughed.
"Bree says they did go out once," I said, starting to pant. Actually, she had said that she and Cal had sex. It wasn't exactly the same thing.
Tamara shrugged. "Maybe they did, but I never heard about it. It couldn't have meant much, anyway. Oh, guess who asked Janice out? You've been out of the whole gossip loop."
"Who?"
"Ben Reggio," announced Tamara. "They've had two study dates."