Auntie gives me her books to borrow, says the truth spell might not be the big show of magic we need. I read up on manifestation, learn more about the way personal desire can change the outcome of spells, but it hits me while soaking in the information about elemental magic. I rush down the stairs in nothing but flip-flops and a big T-shirt to open the shed and pull out the lawn mower. Auntie keeps talking about finding roots, and I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to realize my love of magic started in this yard.
Right here with Papa.
I’m ashamed to see how neglected it is. Even though I come back here every day after school to pay respect at his pear tree, Ma and I let it get so bad. Jasmine used to offer to help me clean it up, but we’d sit on the porch and waste hours looking out into the yard instead. Sometimes, she’d walk through the high grass and try to find rocks and four-leaf clovers and twigs. Sophmore year, we’d climb trees at the way back and kiss under the leaves.
“You’re lucky,” she said once. “If I was the type to own a house, I’d want a yard like this.”
“You could own one,” I said. “Eventually.”
“No.” She laughed. “Houses are for people who like to stay in one place.”
The daylight is still with me when I put on some gloves to pull weeds. Some of them are too deep for my pulling, but at least the garden plot looks like one now. I work on cleaning stems off the overgrown grapevines, which died between the holes in the fence before we could taste grapes this year. When I’m finished, I sit against Papa’s pear tree, where he used to sit, under a low-hanging branch. Even with the yard wild, I’ve spent summers since Papa’s passing laid up under this tree, picking off bad leaves, gathering up fallen pears. I’d tell Papa stories and read to him. But sometime in the last year, I’d stopped because there was always something to do, somewhere else to be, someone to be loving.
And wouldn’t Papa want that for me?
But the sun sets, and the guilt does too. If he’s happy I’m here, he’s not letting me know it. I stand and grab construction tape from inside the toolshed and use it to wrap one of the weak branches. Winter isn’t all gone from the wood yet, but soon, this tree will be growing fruit for us. I put my hand against it, promise this summer I’ll make sure it doesn’t go to waste.
Mom comes from work and notices me fiddling with the branches. “Who cleaned up?”
“I did it myself.”
“Hmm,” she says, nodding her head. “What’s my father think?”
“He hasn’t said.” I shrug. “Think he might feel abandoned.”
Her bottom lip juts out. “Come help me start on dinner.”
The next morning, I notice a bowl with the remnants of last night’s dinner under Papa’s tree. There’s a cup of water beside it and some fresh fruit spread over the trunk. Mom’s feeding her father, and I swear his tree looks like it’s about to give way to green already.
Maybe I’m not the only one who has roots right here.
I’m excited about it at school. I stay that way even after reminding Inez we have to make her an appointment at the clinic, and she rolls her eyes and asks Nat to go with her to the bathroom before we eat. My energy is at a peak from the truth spell, from taking care of Papa’s yard, but I still don’t feel like standing in this lunch line, especially alone.
When I get to the front, Darleny cuts a lot of people to slide in back of me. She grabs regular milk, even though there’s strawberry milk for the picking, and says, “I know you took it.”
I turn enough so she can see the dismay on my face. “Excuse me?”
“My necklace. I know you stole it from me.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve never even seen you wear a necklace.”
She frowns, bottom lip drooping. I stare at it. She leans in, her mouth close to my ear now. Her voice takes on a deeper tone and reminds me of her sister’s. I shudder when she whispers, “Give it back, or I’m telling Jayson why you broke up with him.”
I’m disoriented, trying to remember what her normal voice sounds like, and by the time her ultimatum hits, she’s already out of the line and she’s left her lunch behind.
I look over at Jayson from across the lunchroom. He notices me quickly but doesn’t give me a smile right away. He makes me wait for it. I let my shoulders rest once it comes with a wink. If Darleny tells him, he might not ever look at me the same again.