He closed his eyes, let out a long sigh, and was snoring again before his head hit the pillow.
Selena didn’t even look up, but that was par for the course. She was what people in the Bay Area called “socially awkward.” Back home we called it “touched.”
“Selena?”
After a pause, she glanced up at me. “What?”
“I said good morning. What do you say in return?”
“Buenos días,”she said in a slightly mocking tone, wagging her head.
“Y buenos días a tí,”I answered.
I was glad to see Selena still wore theGutta Cavat Lapidemtalisman I had given her months ago. The teardrop-shaped pendant helped focus her scattered adolescent energies.
“Has the bus checked in this morning?” I asked Maya, noting a new pin on the map.
“Yep,” said Maya. “They’re headed to Sacramento.”
“What’s in Sacramento?”
“State capital,” said Selena.
“Yes, thanks, Selena. I actually do know it’s the California state capital. I’m just wondering why the grandmas are headed there.”
“They mentioned something about joining a protest march,” Maya responded. “They said they’d be another day or two.”
“A protest march. Seriously?”
“That’s what the text said,” said Maya with a smile. “Can you imagine the busload of grandmas with signs in hand? Those state legislators don’t stand a chance. And they aren’t even constituents!”
I returned her smile at the image of the coven descending upon hapless lawmakers. Still... “What are they up to, do you suppose?”
Maya shrugged and handed me her phone to show me the text. “It says they’re joining the march, and afterward they plan to visit the California State Railroad Museum in Old Sacramento. That’s all.”
“Huh. Who knew they were such train enthusiasts?”
On the one hand, given what I was dealing with at the moment, it was nice not to have to worry about what would no doubt be the boisterous arrival of thirteen elderly witches. Not to mention my mother. On the other hand, the waiting and the anticipation were starting to get on my nerves. Also, I could use some advice. And I couldn’t help but wonder if they were justbeing dotty, or if there was something else behind their erratic route.
“Done,” said Selena, the now-sparkling jewelry and silverware fanned out around her. Hers was a rare metal magic. As Selena polished the metal, she imbued it with subtle whispers of energy. Customers could feel it, though they didn’t understand the source of their reactions. The items Selena polished flew off the store’s shelves—occasionally, quite literally.
I had quickly run out of silver objects for her to work on—Aunt Cora’s Closet was a clothes store primarily, not a jewelry store—so I had taken to buying old cutlery and other small silver items at garage sales, just to give her something to do.
“Isn’t that pretty? Thank you, Selena,” I said. “Now, please put the jewelry back in the display case, and the cutlery can go on the shelves with the kitchen items. If we have enough, maybe we’ll use it for the Magical Match Tea.”
Instead, Selena craned her neck to look up at the wall behind the counter. She gazed at the map.
“It’s a picture,” she said.
“A what?”
“Their path is making a picture, see?”
I stood back and looked at the map. She was right; the red thread strung around the pins was starting to look like a figure of some sort.
“What is it?” asked Maya.
The three of us stood in front of the map, tilting our heads this way, then that way, but the shape didn’t make sense. There was no obvious figure emerging.
