Dark gloomy buildings stood like tall guards along the rainy streets, seeping from the seems and cloaked in a cover of moss and mold. One could call this the less glamorous NYC. The parts of the city you didn't see on TV. No big screens, projecting bright colorful smiling faces of Broadway shows and new toothpaste ads. No crowded streets with bright-eyed kids hoping to live in the tall beautiful city once they finish high school. Instead, there was a man, dressed in tattered clothing and shoes rotting right off his feet, messy gray hair dripping with the rain that was coming down harder now that the cab was slowing. Like a bad omen.
The scratching of the cab's tires signaled that the leaning apartment building was where we were stopping. Mother handed the driver a wad of cash, her black leather gloves blocking from their skin from connecting, in the rear-view mirror, a black Honda rolled to a stop, and familiar faces climbed out. I shoved the heavy cab door open, held on to my black bags and joined my mother where she was now standing on the wet sidewalk, her wool hat was already letting go drops of water. Thunder rumbled from somewhere far away and I shivered.
Nathan - a coven member only a year older than myself- stepped from the Honda and opened the trunk of the cab, gripping a few suitcases. I shifted my messenger bag onto my shoulder and went to Nathan's side.
"This isn't the worse we've had." He said in a low tone, weary of his father watching us grabbing luggage from behind the wheel of the Honda.
"No, it's not." That was the sad part.
The coven had moved many times, every year or so, or that's how it was before. This last move, the hunters had found us instantly. We guessed maybe a small town wasn't the option, the bigger the better. More people made it harder to zero out Wiccan. Nathan and I had been raised together, this hadn't been our first time in New York, the Coven had origins in New York, safe houses that we'd leave if necessary, but they would always be here to come back to. The door of the building groaned as we pressed it open, stepping out of the rain and into a dim room, the concrete floor littered with muddy footprints and strange stains. The front desk was tattered and the woman watching us had eyes that seemed glossed over.
Mother collected our keys, signed paperwork, handed over a check and we followed her into an elevator, the doors shook as they closed and the light above our heads flickered as we moved up. The numbers above the door went: 1...3....2....4.....5......7 and then the shrill ding caused me to wince. The doors stopped opening halfway and after a few glances to Nathan, we stepped through and found the right set of halls.
My mother cleared her throat as we passed creepy door after another. "Nathan, I think maybe, while I am with your father working onwards, you could stick around here with Rosemary for the next few weeks."
Nathan shifted the baggage in his arms and passed me a smile. "Of course. No problem at all."
I kept my silence as we stopped in front of a door at the end of a long stretch of hallway. Due to the oldness and clear vandalism, the door that was supposed to be 734 was actually 7 4
I thought about complaining, but I stayed quiet. The hallway was barely lit with yellow light bulbs above every door, the soggy green carpet was stained, torn and molding along the floor and the scent of something foul-filled my nose.
Turning the lock on the door, and shoving the door open, my mother sighed. "It's not as bad as I thought."
I smirked. We didn't have high hopes for this place, but it was hidden, and easily forgotten about. I moved passed Nathan and stepped inside, my feet causing the wooden floors to creak, and groan, the kitchen was to the left, a dusty countertop, a stove with burners missing, a rusted sink. Bar stools that had definitely been stolen from a bar. In front of us, a worn but shockingly clean couch sat in the 'living room' a TV from the 70's on a warped coffee table. Two doors sat on one side of the kitchen, and then to the right was the third door. It was a nice sized place in all honesty, with some cleaning supplies, new pipes in the sink, and blankets on the couch, I could get comfy.
A new place to call home for a few months.
"It's not as bad as the rest of this place," Nathan said, placing the baggage on the floor and shaking rain off his blonde hair.
"We need some curtains, some Clorox, and groceries and...well, we'll make it work won't we?" Mother turned away from the tetanus sink and smiled. Her hat had been taken off, dark hair fell around her worn face, eyes matching mine looked me over.
"Yes, we will."
➳
New curtains had been put up by other coven members, the fridge had been sanitized and filled with food from the grocery store down the block, the counter was cleaned and now held several boxes of flower pots filled with various herbs, flowers, and even small trees. The couch had a new cover, making it so much more welcoming than before. Although the TV had been left on the curb, no one needed that fifty-pound monster hanging around. A new bookshelf sat next to a large window by where the new dining room table sat, it was filled with all of our books. Spellbooks, history of our race, old leather-bound books that were passed down from generations far before me.
And now, in the early morning light breaking out from behind the thick layer of smog, I sat in front of the window. Although Times square was behind us, and a ways away, I still could see why people came here, even in the slumps. The city was huge, buildings tall and hopes even higher. My phone buzzed from my bag, and I slid my shoes on, slipping off my perch on the table, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. I caught sight of my reflection, stopping in my tracks I took a second. I looked like a deer in the headlights sometimes. Black hair uncontrollable barely pulled into a low pony, green eyes so bright and startling, seeming way bigger than they actually were. A black pair of high waisted jeans with a green long sleeve shirt tucked in, and my wool peacoat unbuttoned. A black scarf with little white foxes that looked like polka dots from far away, scattered on it. Black flats and socks that were different colors.
I looked like a really nice homeless person sometimes.
I headed out the door, book bag on my shoulder, and sending a reply to Nathan's text. I locked the door and made it to the stairwell with plenty of time to not have to use the elevator. By the time I hit the bottom floor, I was thrilled to be hit with a cool breeze coming in through the opened front doors, The wind whipped through my hair, and sent pieces of trash flying across the sidewalk. The black Honda was waiting for me, tinted windows rolled and engine roaring.
I slid into the back seat and clicked on my seat belt. Patricia Violet sat in the front seat, the only other child of the leaders of our coven. In each coven, three leaders are born from the past generation of leaders, unlike most we didn't have one leader. We had three, every generation. Two high priestesses, and one high priest. But unlike other beliefs, that was just their title, they weren't really priestesses, and priests. And in a few years, the three of us would become the new leaders of the coven, stepping into our parent's shoes just as they had done for their parents.
Patricia was talking about how she was excited to be in a new school, the last one we had been in had sucked. Turns out three new kids in a town with 300 people didn't bode well. At least we could go fairly unnoticed in New York.
"Maybe the hunters lost our trail," Patricia said hopefully. "I hope so, I really want to be able to explore New York at some point while we're here."
The last time we had been here we had been too little to explore, let alone ask. Now, we were stronger, smarter and had a car and didn't have to walk everywhere. "I think we'll have time for that."
She glanced back at me. "Do you think they lost our trail?"
Damn, she realized I'd avoided answering the question.
"Possibly, but they'll be on it again, we're more hidden here but there is a hunter population here. We just have to be careful."
The school was one level, the outside covered in peeling teal paint and covered in graffiti, trash cans were knocked over, the chainlink fence around the school had schools and broken spots. The doors were rusted, with cracked window panes, the linoleum floor was slick from the rain and covered in a decade of dirt. Lockers lining the walls all covered in writing and drawings, flyers for dances, therapy and parties filed the spaces of the wall between lockers and Students filed in. long fluorescent lights flickered in the main hall and as I ducked around a group of girls I found my tattered locker and tucked my unneeded books in it.
We were lucky that we were allowed to go to public school, most children in the coven were homeschooled, we had been too. It took a lot of convincing for us to be able to go to school, A long list of very strict rules were drilled into us and emergency phones were placed with us. Now they were just our phones, and we were more relaxed with school. We had been all over; enrolled in little schools, and huge schools. Really nice schools and schools more like this one. When I found my first class I smiled at the graffiti on top of the door: Geomocry 143 A name spray painted over the original so old that even it was chipping away.
I placed my bag at my feet as I settled into a seat at the back of the classroom, leaving my transfer slip on the teacher's desk. Not a person looked at me sideways, I was sure people really came and went around here. A gloomy little one-story school filled with bright graffiti, and unique faces.