Journal entry from Tuesday, August 9, 2011

12:00 p.m. at Peppergate Ranch

I'm jolted awake by muffled yelling. A sick feeling washes through me as I open my eyes to a darkened bedroom. The windows are covered by wood blinds. Thin sunbeams peek through the gap where the blinds reach the windowsill.

Where am I?

I grab a purple decorative pillow to cover my face. As the fabric touches my nose, I breathe the sweet smell of lilacs. My favorite scent from home. Sadness tugs at my heart as I remember I'm not in Seattle anymore.

Tossing the pillow back on the bed, I push up to sit, then swing my legs off my bed to rest my bare feet on the floor. I look down to find my shoes and my breath catches in my throat. Round boobs stick out of my chest. Warmth rushes into my cheeks and I blink hard. The boobs don't disappear, so I give them a squeeze to make sure they're real. My fingers close around soft skin. Yep, they're real.

As I raise my head toward the sounds of yelling outside my door, last night's events return in a flood of memories.

George Salvia looks at me with wide eyes as I pull him in for a kiss. Our lips touch and our tongues intertwine. Tingly warmth spreads through my pelvis as he grabs my butt with strong hands.

My head's spinning as I remember the surge of power that came with the Celtic Goddess Brigid seizing my body. With her presence came a bombardment of sounds and sensations. Normally, I'd run to escape so much stimulation. But Brigid made me brave.

George Salvia is my first kiss. I hold him close. A strange excitement takes hold and I want more. He's bewitched, and he's mine. And he will burn.

A tide of confusion washes over me as the bedroom disappears and images flicker into view. I'm in an unfamiliar land dotted with green, rolling hills. The sky is cloudy and smells of dampness. Atop the nearest knoll stands a giant straw man. At its base are a coven of nine women dressed in emerald tunics that match the landscape. They vary in age, but all are stone-faced and without emotion.

A spike of terror lances through my chest as I recognize the man bound to a crude wooden pole, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. It's George! His deep brown eyes are clouded with fear, his body secured with a thick rope that bites into his skin.

My sense of dread grows as I watch a fiery-haired woman jab him in the ribs with a wooden staff etched with strange symbols. In her other hand is a flaming torch. She turns to lock eyes with me, and her face shakes me to my core.

I'm staring at myself as a young adult.

With a choked gasp, I pinch my newly formed boobs to stop the terrible vision. The green landscape morphs into my brown bedroom and the savory scent of summer enters my nose. My heart is pounding as I collapse onto my bed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! I'm a dumbass for believing a freak like me can have a normal teenage life. George doesn't want me. He wants the Goddess Brigid.

Heaviness settles over my shoulders with the realization that loving Brigid will kill him. Tears slip from my eyes as I resolve to stay away from George. Maybe that will save him.

Screaming erupts from outside the bedroom. The windowed door leading to Peppergate Ranch's courtyard is blocked by a heavy floor-length curtain, but I recognize the voices as Mom and Aunt Rose.

Rising from the bed, I cross the bedroom and open the door to the courtyard. Beyond the breezeway, Mom and Aunt-I mean Grandma Rose are on the lawn and yelling in each other's faces. Between them is Kibbles. His tail is stiff, and his snout moves back and forth between the two.

Grandma Rose points an accusing finger at Mom. "You drugged me!"

Mom's sweating under the blistering sun, her face flushed with anger. "You would've tried to stop me from finding Conlan!"

Neither notice as I walk quietly along the brick pathway to the edge of the grass at the courtyard's center. I stay out of the sun under the shelter of the breezeway.

Grandma Rose grabs the white strand that streaks through Mom's red hair. "Look at yourself! You'll die if you go back to that portal!"

Mom swats her hand away. "Try and stop me!"

Kibbles lets out a whine, then jumps to plant his front paws on Mom's thighs. Her mouth twists in rage and she raises a clenched fist.

I leap onto the lawn. "Stop it!"

My pup's pink tongue darts out to lick Mom's fist. She blinks like she's waking up, then her eyes fill with tears. Gently, she removes his paws from her thighs and drops to a crouch to hug him. "I'm so sorry. I'd never hurt you." She buries her face in his thick yellow fur and sobs.

Grandma Rose looks tired and old under the harsh sunlight. "I'm very disappointed in you, Amber." Her eyes travel to my chest and widen at my transformation. She closes the distance between us and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Tell me what happened last night."

With a sigh, I nod. "Can we go inside where it's cooler?"

Mom rises to stand, and Grandma Rose waves her hand in a sweeping gesture around the house's horseshoe shape. Of the nine doors, she points to the fifth, which lies in the middle of the house's branching arms. "Let's go to the kitchen."

We follow her across the lawn and through the door. Mom closes the door after Kibbles enters. He sprawls on the cool black tile. The kitchen and adjoining dining room are dark. Heavy curtains cover the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Chatsworth Reservoir. Grandma Rose walks to a cupboard and removes a glass, then walks to the refrigerator and fills it with ice and water. She hands the glass to Mom. "Drink."

Her hands close around the glass and she drains it. As Grandma and I move to sit next to each other at the dining room table, Mom refills the glass. "I'll tell you everything."

I open my mouth to protest, but Mom turns from the refrigerator to give me the side-eye.

She bends to pat Kibbles on the head, then walks to sit on the opposite side of the table. For the next half-hour, Mom tells Grandma about some of what happened last night. When she reaches the bit about Lucy and Daniela, Grandma's face crumples into a frown.

The pause in the story is my opportunity to ask about something that's been bothering me ever since Lucy greeted me on the intercom on moving day with Welcome back, bitch. "How do you know Lucy Carpenter and Daniela Salvia?"

Mom and Grandma's features are pinched as they exchange a glance. I'm not good at reading social cues, but their silence tells me they won't tell me anything helpful.

With a deep sigh, Mom turns away from the table and toward the sleeping Kibbles in the kitchen. She rests her arms on the back of the chair to avoid looking at me. I'm confused because she's never had a problem lying to my face. My head's spinning, but I force myself to listen.

"She was Daniela Cervantes back then, and we were best friends since we were 12. We used to write to each other and talk on the phone all the time. When I was 18, I came here to L.A. to visit her. But her friend Lucy was jealous, and she ruined our friendship. After I returned home to Seattle, I never heard from her again."

Grandma exhales audibly, and I realize she's been holding her breath. Whatever Mom's hiding, she knows about it. What could be so bad that they can't tell me?

Then I remember the newspaper article about Lucy's disappearance. "What year did you come to Los Angeles?"

Mom shifts in her seat toward the dining room table and me. "What does it matter?"

Her eyes narrow to slits as I announce, "Because Lucy disappeared from a party in 1982, right here at Peppergate Ranch!"

A sharp laugh escapes from Mom's lips. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

Before I can think of a way to make her answer me straight, she dives back into retelling last night's events. As I wonder why she'd lie about Lucy, a cool breeze from an overhead vent ruffles my hair.

For another 15 minutes, Mom speaks about the burned landscape and the reappearance of the ghostly lawman, Sheriff Graves, and his partner, Cowboy Joe.

Then Mom pauses before delivering the bombshell about Seamus's reappearance. The color drains from Grandma's face and she grabs Mom's hand. "Look what you stirred up by going to that portal!"

With a snort, Mom yanks her hand away. "I didn't bring Seamus back. There was another ghost, an old white woman missing a leg. She said her 'master' conjured a powerful sorcerer."

Before I can stop myself, I whisper, "Susan Atkins."

Now it's Mom whose pale face whitens to a skeletal bleach. "How would you know?"

I bow my head so my hair falls in front of my face, and I don't have to look at them. "Because of Lucy. I went with Dr. Morton to a sacred place in the mountains where we could scry. I wanted to find out what happened to her."

A soft hand finds mine. I raise my head to find Grandma. Her eyes are soft and kind. "What did you find?"

My shoulders slump and I look at my hands. "That Betty Morton was one of Manson's girls. Nothing about Lucy."

A sharp thud on the table makes me look up. Mom's hands are balled into fists. "I knew there was something off about that Dr. Morton."

Grandma gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't be so quick to judge. Betty was orphaned, with nowhere to go. She left Manson's 'family' before they started killing people."

An idea pops into my head. "Let's go to that sacred place to scry."

Mom jumps to her feet so fast she knocks the chair over. "We can scry to find Conlan!"

After my experience at the Grotto, I'm not sure if that's how it works, but I nod in agreement.

Grandma releases my hand to rub her temples. "It's dangerous, but perhaps we'll learn something useful about what Seamus is planning. But we're not going out in this heat."

Mom claps her hands. "We'll wait until it cools down, then we'll tell Christopher we're taking Amber shopping for school clothes."

As Grandma agrees, I tug at my t-shirt and try to remember the last time Mom took me shopping. I'm still trying as I rise from the dining room table to return to my bedroom and a shower in the adjacent bathroom. When I reach the door between the kitchen and living room, I pause. Which way is my bedroom?

From the dining room table, an excited Mom calls to me. "Keep going, honey. You're going the right way. Keep walking and you'll end up in your room."

As I walk into the peach-colored living room, the grandfather clock chimes once. The high-ceilinged room is as cold as when I first met Lucy face-to-face. Outside the bay window is the Chatsworth Reservoir. The lumpy hill hosting the Gateway to the Dead looms darkly against the tan prairie grass.

I walk faster and enter the little hallway in between the living room and the den and then enter the den with its A-framed wood-beamed ceiling. Another hallway branches off the den. At the end is the door to my bedroom.

Passing a vacant blue bedroom with two built-in twin beds and the adjoining bathroom, I reach my room. As I enter, I remember Shelby's back from her vision quest today. My pulse quickens as I plop down in the chair at a built-in desk, open my laptop, and pray for working Internet.

Shelby answers the video chat on the third ring. She somehow looks older, more mature. Long dark hair falls around her shoulders and she leans close to the screen. "McBride, how's it hanging?"

A flood of warmth fills my heart. I want to blurt out everything but stop myself when I remember to ask how she's doing first. "How was your vision quest?"

The smile flees from Shelby's face and her expression gets serious. "Amazing. But I'm not allowed to talk about it with..." she pauses before concluding. "I'm sorry."

My heart sinks. Stupid to think nothing would change. The taunting voices from the portal were right. Shelby's better off without you.

As if she can read my mind, she continues, "Hey, I'm still your bestie." Her face widens into the familiar grin. "I want to hear all about L.A."

Shelby's kindness unleashes word salad from my mouth. The crazy events of the past three days tumble out in a rush. With each revelation, Shelby's smile fades until her brow is furrowed in a rare display of worry. After a half-hour, I conclude the tale with, "I have to stay away from George, or he'll end up dead."

Leaning back in my chair, I wait for her response.

"Damn, girl! I'll admit it. I thought you'd be lost without me." She shakes her head. "Maybe you're going through the Celtic equivalent of a vision quest."

I lean forward toward the laptop. "What happens at the end of a vision quest?"

Shelby's response snatches the breath from my throat. "You come through it a warrior, or you die."

AUTHOR NOTES:

Banner photo of Amber's bedroom at Peppergate Ranch (1939) courtesy of Peppergate Ranch

Playlist Wide Awake by Katy Perry

https://youtu.be/k0BWlvnBmIE