The Witch Bridle

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Chapter 9

“I’m not telling you not to do this, Oona! Please! All I am saying is ‘Know what you’re doing’!”

“How dare you imply I do not know what I am doing?” With her harsh response, Oona had obviously been offended. What followed the abrupt end of the séance had been a long and comfortable walk so far, and Oona didn’t want to spoil it. So she faced her dear friend, KC, and winked to her in the dim light.

“I’m sorry Oona.” KC wasted no time to fully reply. “I really am. I didn’t mean to say it that way.” Her voice was sincere. “I just mean I’m afraid that this will somehow get out of hand and, with the children and their father and everybody else, I just don’t know. I don’t know what to expect and…I’m afraid. I just want this family to have a normal life Oona.” KC drew back tears and added, “I just wanted to say goodbye.” She gasped. “I want to reach him, Oona, and I know that you get that. You understand.”

“I do.”

“I couldn’t let you frighten Louis like that. I could see it in him.”

“In this regard, you misjudge the boy ma chère. Louis is far stronger than you imagine.”

“Maybe so but I do want a normal family Oona. I want that most. I want to have a normal family.”

“With your son Charley there is a young man who will heap all the pleasures of normalcy upon you. Charley will fill the shoes of his father more quickly than you expect, and he will always be there for his mother. I can see it in him. And what a handsome young man he is; so engaging and so intelligent, though as far as I know he has no special powers. Yes, I believe your thirteen year old son is one hundred percent ‘normal’.”

“With your seer and medium son, and your girl-witch daughter, there lie great challenges to that ‘normal life’ to which you aspire. It is your essence and your own blood that give your children their great gifts. It is drawn from the well of your many times removed first cousin named Rebecca Dalyber.

The innocent died and the guilty lived.

“KC, you will have challenges in life, some great, daunting.” Oona shimmered in the soft light of the October evening. “So will the children of whom you should be quite proud. Believe me KC when I say, ‘If I ever had children, I would want them to be as yours are’.” Oona smiled and looked tired, though she was no less beautiful. It had been one very long day for both of them, and the walk had helped put their bodies and minds somewhat at ease. “The paranormal door has opened for us, ma chère, and we shall see who we can conjure up.”

“Oona: please! All joking aside, this is very serious! I want to reach him very badly; I just don’t want my family’s lives to be thrown into chaos…and craziness. And please, please do not call my baby Thankful a ‘little witch!’”

“What would you have me call her ma chère?

“How ’bout Thankful?” KC snapped back. “And I’ll tell you something not to call me: ma chère!

Oona was silent.

“I’m sorry,” said KC. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel better. It’s just that I don’t like it. And I don’t like the jokes. I’m sorry.”

Silence reigned for a short time, and that in itself was not uncomfortable. They continued their off-and-on again walk to the house which drew inexorably nearer.

“Oona, you need, well we need, to be more delicate with Louis and the others. This is a bit weird, you have to admit that.” KC spoke pleadingly to her friend. “That’s all, okay? The kids talk among themselves and to their friends.” At this time of severe loss and extreme change KC was comforted by the company of her friend, and was cautiously pleased with Oona’s presence. But no matter how hard KC tried to accept her, there was something in the way that held her back.

“I am sorry,” Oona plainly stated. “KC, I am so happy to be here with you that I can be a bit ‘goofy’ at times and careless with my words. I am happy, and happiness sometimes makes me silly. Again, I am sorry.” They stopped, looked at one another and shared a brief hug. Then they resumed their walk. “I assure you, I shall use my powers to reach your husband, as you may or may not wish, and carry on my other duties here with as little disruption to your day to day lives as is humanly possible.”

“What are the risks, Oona? How dangerous is this, really?”

Oona paused with her reply and privately recalled brief flashes of disjointed images: bits and slices of time, the thick and choking smoke of Satan and all his diabolical disorientations; those mangled mixes of moments that bombarded her and stole her composure at times of deep meditation to the most learned. Then, as if she saw things more clearly, Oona calmly said, “There are some ghastly forces on the other side. Poltergeists, demons, and devils speak in countess expressions, demonic babble, and with whatever you want to call them, they can cause serious trouble and obstruct even the best of intentions. These things can make you physically ill; can cause tension among loved ones, and fighting among friends and family. These things can ruin your mind and send you to a mental hospital. There is horrific disorder and confusion even in the ‘good’ places, and great skill and caution is required to navigate the unknown waters of the Hereafter.”

“Let us relax now,” Oona said as the two women arrived at home. She was greatly relieved to have talked things over and thought KC felt the same way. The pair slowly walked up the driveway. “After all it is Friday night and it is still not too late. And we still have some Sonoma.”

KC nodded in apparent agreement, though so much remained on her mind. It would be quite difficult to relax. Clearly, so many things still had to be worked out. As they entered the kitchen, the children predictably corralled them. “How are things supposed to go?” KC wondered. Some things will just have to be worked out.

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