Author's Notes: Alrighty, here's where the plot thickens! We have action, and some Suze x Jesse-ness! : D Of course, not enough to leave you completely satisfied, but we wouldn't want that, now would we? Mwaha, I'm evil XP Oh, and also, Notleys Landing exists, but I have no idea if it's actually a nice place that you would go to on a day trip, but don't judge me because of it! O.x lol!
Disclaimer: I only own Emma Thompson and Violet Schumacher, everything (and everyone) else is owned by Jenny Carroll/Meg Cabot, although I wouldn't mind renting Jesse for a few days XD
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I was sitting at home trying to figure this whole thing out. I mean, this girl's grandmother killed her? That was just…wrong. Grandmothers give you candy, they don't kill you. Must have been one messed up lady. I felt bad for Emma's parents; they deserved to know how their daughter died. Of course, that was none of my concern, so I tried to forget about this disturbing piece of information and look up 'Baba' on a genealogy website. Of course, I didn't look up 'Baba', I looked up Emma Thompson, and, easily enough found her maternal grandmother's name. Violet Schumacher.
By this time it was pretty late though, having spent most of the afternoon at the beach with Jesse, and, since old people go to bed early and everything, I figured I wouldn't bother her, especially if it turned out she hadn't killed her granddaughter, in which case calling and asking about her had the potential to be extremely traumatic.
I settled for sitting in my room and turning my music up really loud, to make sure my mom or Andy didn't venture in, and thought about Jesse. Of course. What else would I be doing on a Friday night during summer vacation? Actually going out, you say? Why, I'm much too pathetic for that. Besides, if my recent theories held true, if I thought about him, he would show up sooner or later. So I changed into what passed for PJs and lay down on my bed.
The first Jesse-related matter at hand was figuring out what exactly he had meant by if he hadn't died he would have missed out on 'all of this'. All of what? Did he mean pizza, rock music, Tylenol, electric blankets? Or…I barely allowed myself to think it, but it slipped through…did he mean me?
I very nearly physically slapped myself for letting that happen. I mean, I reminded myself of a 12 year old with her first big crush on Justin Timberlake, who was convinced that at every concert she went to he was singing to her, when it was obviously not true. He probably just thought it was cool that he got to see 150 years worth of history play out. Because it would be, and all.
I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but I knew that for the next long while I thought of every aspect of Jesse possible, and replayed conversations over and over. I knew I fell asleep though, even though I don't remember it, because when I woke up the next morning, I had a blanket covering me and my music was off. I wondered if it had been my mom, Andy, or Jesse. I secretly hoped for Jesse, but I knew it was probably mom.
I changed and went downstairs. Andy looked up from the car magazine he was reading and went, "Hey, sleepyhead." I mildly resented that; it was summer, it was my duty as a teenager to get up no earlier than 10, but I knew he was joking.
"Hey. Do you mind if I go out again today?" I had to make sure he had nothing planned, just in case I ended up paying Violet Schumacher a surprise visit, or, hey, maybe I'd just go down to the beach again.
"Of course not. In fact, your mother and I had planned on going down to Notleys Landing for the day, you kids'll be find on your own."
"Fine by me. Have fun!" I went into the kitchen, grabbed a brown sugar Pop Tart, and went to use the phone.
I went to my room, and picked up the receiver, glancing around the room just to see if Jesse had come back from wherever he went when he wasn't here. I made a mental note to ask him where that was next time I saw him, because he wasn't there now.
I dialled the number and, sure enough, an elderly woman picked up with, "Violet Schumacher speaking." I launched into my 'sorry about your granddaughter' spiel.
"Hello, I'm just calling to say that I heard about your granddaughter and I'm so sorry about what happened. It must be awful for you."
"Yes, well…may I ask who this is?" Strange, she didn't sound overly heartbroken, just a little distracted.
"Well, you don't know me, I just read about it in the newspaper and I thought it was horrible…and they don't know how she died?"
"No. No they don't. I'm sorry dear, but there's something I must do. Thank you for calling though." And then she hung up on me. That wasn't very sweet-little-old-lady-whose-granddaughter-just-died-like. She sure as heck didn't deserve any Oscars for her acting talent. It was way obvious that something was up over at Violet Schumacher's house, and I was going to find out what. Thankfully, her house was only about a 10-minute bike ride.
I got to her door, deciding to use the same story as I had on the phone, and I'd try to get myself invited in. From the outside, it looked like your stereotypical old-person house. Stucco bungalow with flower boxes hanging off the windows, nothing special.
I went and rang the doorbell, and an old woman with long white hair, loose down her back, answered the door. Her house may have looked stereotypical, but she didn't look like any grandma I'd ever seen. I looked around, wondering where grandpa was, but I figured he was probably napping. Old men did that a lot. Violet looked a bit confused, and asked, "What are you two doing here?"
My first reaction was, wow, this woman's crackers, she's seeing double or something. Then I felt a had on my shoulder, and I whirled around, expecting to see some psycho who'd followed me from God-knows-where, but instead, I was shocked to see Jesse. I was even more shocked that Violet could see Jesse, and whirled my head back around, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. This woman was a mediator too?
I guessed she hadn't meant to let that slip, and she definitely hadn't expected me to be able to see Jesse, because she had a look of horrified shock on her face.
To break the silence, I went, "So…uh…you're a mediator too?" Which was probably not the smartest thing to do, because, for some reason, this woman was furious now.
"How DARE you show up at my house like this? What do you want? If this is about Emma, I'll call the police and turn you in, mark my words! They'll take my word for it too, my son works there you know!"
Okay, so maybe I had been dead-on with the 'crackers' thing. She was obviously a few colors short of a rainbow. I decided I'd stand up to her.
"Actually, we are here about Emma, and I want to ask you a few questions if you don't mind." I slipped past her in the doorway, and Jesse did the same. She turned around to face us and slammed the door behind us. It was about this time that I noticed a table nearby with all sorts of herbs and candles strewn about.
"Whoa…what's with that?" Excuuuse me for not feeling threatened by an old lady mediator. I guess that was a mistake, though.
Jesse answered for her. "It looks like materials necessary for making potions or spells…" he answered slowly and trailed off, not entirely believing what he was seeing. Violet was definitely no regular senior citizen, and I doubted her hobbies included gardening, bridge, and knitting.
"Forget the police!" she fumed, "I'll kill you too!"
Jesse stepped in front of me a little, which I found really sweet of him, but then I realized he only did it because he couldn't die, and if he could, he probably wouldn't have done it. But, duh, this was obviously not the time or place to be moping, so I cut to the chase.
"Why did you kill your granddaughter?"
She laughed, and the way she did it creeped me out a little. "I didn't kill her, her mother did, silly girl."
"What
are you talking about?"
"I might as well tell you,
I'll kill you anyway. I'm a powerful
witch, more powerful than you or anyone else you know could ever be, but my
daughter, that bitch, thinks it's dangerous.
Foolish girl, of course it is, but she wants me to stop. Doesn't know when to leave well enough
alone. I had had enough with her
constant nagging, so I did what I knew would hurt her most. I took her daughter away." The way she smiled while saying that gave me
the chills. It was no wonder her
husband stayed in his room, or wherever he was.
"You…you…freak! How could you kill your own granddaughter?" I screamed at her. This lady was not the type of person I could put up with for very long.
Right then, Emma appeared, smiling gleefully up at me. "Yay, you yelled at Baba! I always wanted to yell back, but mommy wouldn't let me." Then she clapped, hugged me, hugged Jesse, and disappeared. Moved on I supposed. That had been pretty simple. But, now that that interlude was over, it was back to the matter at hand.
Violet was standing in the middle of the room, looking absolutely livid. She stretched her hand out towards me and Jesse, muttered something in a language that was definitely not English, and all of a sudden I was flung against the far wall by some unseen force. Jesse, being a ghost, was unaffected, and he immediately came to help me up. "Susannah, we aren't prepared to take this woman on, she's too powerful. Come, let us go and come back when we know exactly what we are up against," he hissed in my ear. He had a point, and we bolted for the door. I took my bike and pedaled for all I was worth, and I got home in record time. The last thing I'd heard while leaving her house was, "Don't think this is over! Ha, far from it!"
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*Later that night, at Violet's house*
She sat in a circle made of candles, with mirrors and dried leaves placed in seemingly random places on the floor. Then she closed her eyes, and started chanting. Roughly translated, this is what she said:
Powers, I, your Master, command thee,Come and unleash thy wrath.
Find the mediator, and
Use the mirror image of her thoughts.
Whatever she feels,
The opposite she shall say,
And it shall be so till her life comes to an end.
GO!
Giant pillars of black smoke exploded out of the mirrors, and raced through the door. Susannah, meanwhile, was sleeping soundly, and didn't notice at all when tendrils of black smoke wafted into her room through the open windows, and got absorbed into the back of her head.