The Past-Life Chronicles

10

After the movie on Friday night, it's pouring rain. Neither of us brought an umbrella, so Mason and I bolt across the parking lot, drenching ourselves in the icy downpour. It seems the autumn weather has turned its back on us, no longer the Indian summer I'd grown accustomed to.

We slam the car doors against the clawing wet cold, and I lower my dripping hood.

"Just think." Mason turns the key in the ignition and jacks up the heat, even though we both know it's too soon for any warm air to blow out. "This time next week, we'll be on the road to Elms Creek."

I set my purse on the floor, realizing I haven't told anyone else about our upcoming trip. I should probably mention it to Mom. We've both been busy working and haven't had a chance to talk since Heather's visit. I wonder if I should fill her in too on the disturbing details we uncovered through Henry's regression. But it all seems so private, so personal to Henry...and to me.

Has Henry even listened to the recording of his session yet? I make a mental note to cover these topics with them when I get home.

It's too rainy to go anywhere else, and I'm definitely not comfortable with the driving conditions. When we pull up to my house, I don't want Mason to get soaked walking me to the door, so I insist he stay put.

"Thanks for the movie," he says.

"Thanks for the popcorn." I smile. I feel it soon fading, however, as he watches me, but doesn't move an inch. Doesn't tilt his head, or lean any closer...

I am not going to make the first move. I'll admit, I wouldn't even know how. If he wants to kiss me, then he should grab hold of me and do it. But I'm not going to make a fool of myself throwing my body across the center console, only to realize that was never his intention.

As I'm about to open my door, bracing myself for another torrential onslaught, he says my name.

"Will you be at circle tomorrow?"

"It's not a full moon."

Rain patters down over the windshield, and he speaks up so I can hear. "I know. It's new moon. Some of the coven is getting together to do a banishing ritual."

"Are you going?" I ask him.

"Are you?" he returns.

"I'll think about it," I hedge.

"What's there to think about? My mom's bringing pie."

I laugh. "Okay, maybe," I relent. "See you, Mason." I raise my hood, snatch up my purse and dart out through the rain. When I reach the covering of my front porch, I lift a hand. Across the threshold, I can't see Mason through his dark windshield. But his car idles for a while in the driveway, and he doesn't back out until I unlock the front door and go inside.

Sighing, I remove my coat and boots and put them away. My hair hangs wet past my shoulders, frizzing and curling in a way that tells me I won't be running a brush through it anytime soon. I'm about to head upstairs, but change my mind and go down instead.

Mom is in the den on the lower level, hanging sparkly black garland with little plastic bats from the ceiling. Hocus Pocus is playing on the downstairs TV in the background, and I stop to watch for a minute. But I can't bring myself to laugh at it like I used to. As kids, Heather and I used to love this movie. All I'm reminded of is the fact that we'll probably never watch it together again.

Henry's bedroom door is open, which I wasn't expecting. I'd been planning on knocking, having a few extra seconds behind a closed door to come up with what to say. I peek inside to see him on his laptop, doing something other than studying, for once. He's playing electronic solitaire, dragging and dropping cards to their suits, while moody guitar music hums from the speakers.